#and then of course she gets out of bed and talks about how she has pho

[plethorawrites]

Image how confused the entire Bat family would be if Jason— touch repulsed, wants to work alone, barely even tolerates them most days— Todd finally gets sucked into one of Bruce's charity events, only to come with a date who he *cannot* keep his hands off. I'm talking, has his arm draped around her waist or over her shoulder whenever they're walking, hugging her from behind with his jaw on top of her hair (carefully though, so he won't mess it up), occasionally randomly kissing the back of her hand, or her cheek, or very quickly her neck before she smacks him away playfully.

And the media LOVES this.

The reporters who usually bother Bruce about his company, Dick about his romantic life, Damian about school, Duke about being recently legally adopted, Cass about her improving speech skills, Tim about recent publicity statements, all suddenly leave them alone to take picture after picture of Jason and whoever his date is. And Jason—has threatened, attempted, and actually punched reporters— Todd doesn't even care. He doesn't bat an eye, (pun intended) because they should take pictures with how gorgeous she looks.

He'd be offended if they didn't.

And when she blushes, getting a bit shy after hearing a few too many clicks, he runs a hand up and down her arm, tearing her away from the buffet to dance. Dance. Yes, Bruce thought he'd lost his mind when he saw his son whisk a beautiful woman into the middle of the room, willingly, even eagerly wrapping his arms around her comfortably and familiarly, while she rests her head against his chest and he rests his cheek against the side of your head, his eyes fluttering shut every once in a while.

Of course, his family tried to get to talk to him, really, they did. Something or someone conveniently got in the way every single time, until the event is over and Jason and his date manage to slip out in the crowd before the family gets to interrogate him about it.

His phone? He has to shut it off from all the calls and texts that overwhelm his inbox. Alfred even sent an email.

When he eventually does pick it up after having it on do not disturb for a while, he simply types in the group chat, "You told me to bring a date." Before putting it face down on the nightstand and rolling over in bed to wrap his arms around her, kissing her temple softly as she sleeps, out of your fancy dress and in his arms, where she belongs.

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Hey, I wanna a a request from you.. about the worst wolverine!Logan (or the one in th x-men series) × mutant!fem!reader.

Reader may have powers like Wanda Maximoff or Jean Grey, but she's stronger. Anyway, there's my main plot; enemies to lovers, a HUGE breeding kink, possibly pregnancy(the a result of the kink hehe) Wade is the person who introduced them, and Reader's Wade' bestfriend. They saved the eart 10005 and they celebrated this at Wade's (and Blind Al's) house. Logan may be a complete jerk to the reader at first, and he may have attacked the reader in the scene in the Honda Odyssey, but then things change and so on. Can you write somethin' like that? If you do, thanks already!!! See ya, bub, take care of yourself.

I’VE HAD THIS IN NY DRAFTS FOREVER WHAT

HAPPY HOLIDAYS

I hope you enjoy this, babes ❤��

Ever since Wade came looking for him and took him to earth 10005, Logan’s life has been easier. There’s less hate towards him (which is an understatement, really; he’s now adored and it never ceases to surprise him) and it feels like, maybe, he’s redeemed himself from what he did. Maybe, his luck has finally started looking up.

But then there’s you. You infuriate him. Every time he sees you, he just wants to put his claws through your ribs. Although he did that already, in the Void, in that stupid fucking Odyssey. But it wasn’t nearly enough. God, he can’t stand you. The way you talk, the way you walk, the way you handle yourself. Sharing an apartment with Wade and Blind Al doesn’t bother him, he even stands Mary Puppins and her hairlessness. But you? You who likes to walk around at night in an oversized shirt and sweatshirts, who leaves the apartment smelling of your perfumes and shampoo after you shower, who he can hear as you fuck yourself with your fingers night after night.

His room is next to yours, he’s heard the way you work yourself up, how you eventually manage to get your pussy soaked enough to stuff your fingers into yourself. It pisses him off. And what he hates most is that his body reacts to it. Having been so hated in his world means that the last time he had sex was…Well. It’s been a while.

So he uses that as an excuse. Of course he doesn’t want you, his body just needs the sex, that’s all. He wants the sex, the release. Nothing more.

Maybe that’s why he does what he does.

On one of those nights where Blind Al is probably too out of it with her cocaine and Wade is probably at Vanessa’s, he hears you. The sweet sounds of your little whimpers and your heavy breathing, the obscene, slick noises that leave your cunt as you fuck her with your fingers. And Logan can’t take it. He just cannot take it anymore.

He barges into your room and delights in the way you react. Your wide eyes, the way you scramble to pull your fingers out of yourself and cover your body with the bed sheets.

“Logan!” you yell, cheeks blushing furiously. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“What are you doing, bub? Touching yourself like you think I can’t hear, or like you hope I will.”

“You didn’t even fucking knock,” you continue, mortified.

He closes the door after himself, locks it just in case. “You’ve been at it for hours, bub. Hours. Is something wrong?”

Still flushed, you refuse to reply. You just clutch the bed sheets tighter.

“Can the poor little girl not come on her own?” Logan insists, smiling. When you fail to answer again, he insists, “Hm? Do you need help, girl?”

The look in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know. The scent of your arousal thickens and he’s lost.

He’s quick to crawl onto the bed, prowling over you. He leans down, lips nudging at your neck as he gently pushes the bed sheets aside. “Let me see you, baby,” he says lowly, his eyes hungrily taking you in.

You’re so beautiful, prettier than he ever thought you’d be.

His already hard cock twitches in his pants, demanding attention, but he ignores it. For now.

“So pretty,” he says, mouthing at your jaw as his hand slips between your thighs. He touches the slickness spread over your skin, how warm your pussy is. Your folds are swollen, your clit throbbing. You’re probably raw from how long you’ve been touching yourself, so he’ll make sure to not overdo it. He’d hate to hurt you.

He slips a finger into you, groaning as he finds little resistance. “God, you’ve got yourself all stretched out already. All open for me.”

He leans back onto his knees, pushing your legs up to your chest and spreading them apart. He eyes your cunt, all needy and spread wide.

Growling quietly, he reaches for his pants. He pushes them down to his thighs, his eyes on you. “Let me put my cock in you, bub,” he says, almost begging.

You’re so out of it, dazed with the need to come and the lust that’s overcome you, that you just nod in agreement. “Yeah, yes.”

He wastes no time. Slowly, he nudges into you and fills you to the brim, the breath leaving his lungs. “Fuck, Logan.”

“Yeah, I know.” He grins, pleased with himself. He starts out slow, thrusting into you with care as he tests the waters. When your pussy releases its grip on him some, he thrusts harder, deeper.

You squeal, hands gripping onto his forearms as they hold your legs to your chest, keeping you nice and spread for him. Your nails dig into his skin, your eyes squeeze shut. He’s fucking you too hard for you to even say much. You just whimper, gasp, mewl.

It helps that you’ve been touching yourself for so long. You come around him with so much force that your body falls limp against the bed, your pussy spasming around his cock.

And it’s not fair to him. He hasn’t had sex in so long, how is he even supposed to hold back.

“Oh, baby. Oh, baby. I’m gonna fill you up, bub. Gonna put my child in you.”

You gasp at the words, whining lowly.

“Yeah? You want me to make you a momma? You can make me a daddy, hm, bub? Yeah?”

Your body writhes underneath his, your eyes wide as they meet his. “P-please, yes. Please.”

That’s all he needs. Not only did you just give him permission, but you’re begging him for it.

“Baby. I’m gonna fill you up, ‘m gonna fill this pretty pussy with all my come and you’re gonna keep it in you. You’re gonna give me a child, maybe two if you behave, hon.”

And he does. When he comes, rope after rope of thick, sticky come spurt into you. He fills you up until it’s dripping out of you, until he’s spent and he can’t come anymore.

You two stay there a while, trying to regain your breaths and let the high wash away. He kisses your forehead softly and lays own next to you, knowing he’s gonna be ready to go soon.

For the next few weeks, it’s more of the same. He fucks you again and again, filling you with his cum to the brim every time.

That’s why it’s no surprise to you when you miss your period. No surprise at all. In fact, you have no doubt that Logan is going to be thrilled. Now there’s only the matter of telling him…

---

Blog masterlist

[ineedpaigebuckets]

team movie night and they all tease pazzi for being cuddly and flirty

she knew

warnings: smut!!!

an: LONGER ONE. not as good as i hoped. but let me know what you think and give me some more requests. more small blurbs coming either today or tomorrow!!

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todays a movie night. my favorite. i love movie nights. but something about this one just isn't hitting the same. i'm kinda nervous, my breathings just a little bit off, and i can't seem to get comfortable. me and paige are on a small couch by ourselves while everyone else is scattered across the room. the movie isn't very scary but it's a thriller action movie. i cant sleep after watching those. i hate guns, every time a gun goes off it takes everything in me not to flinch. paige notices, of course she does, she's my best friend how could she not.

"az, you okay? not comfy?" she asks quietly a hand placed on my arm stopping me from changing my position for the hundredth time.

"mhm, m'fine." i yawn and meet paige's eyes, even in the dark the crystal blue of her eyes is showing.

"what times it?" i ask watching her pull out her phone and show it to me. 10:00, late for me.

"late for you isn't it?" she teases making me shake my head. she'd always known me better than anyone else. god she was so perfect every single thing about her was undeniably perfect.

"i don't like this movie." i whisper making a face when another gunshot goes off. paige know, of course, we have movie nights just the two of us all the time and she knows when it's before i go to bed, it needs to be a cute romcom or cartoon or something. and she always agrees.

"i know, you know what come here." she positions herself to sit sideways with her back against the arm rest opening up her legs for me to lay between them on her stomach. i give her a look almost asking if she's sure before curling up on her stomach. my hand flattens against the soft skin exposed by her shirt riding up and i move i to her side rubbing my thumb across her skin. i'd always had this nervous habit whenever i was anxious to rub my thumb across someone's thumbnail it always helped me calm down.

"nervous?" paige asks as she gives me her hand. i nod and start to gently rub my thumb across her nail. of course she knew, she knew everything about me. i'd always wondered, what if we were more than friends. i'd always wished we were. before i can close my eyes to really relax kk decides she has other plans.

"aww azzi sleepy!" she coos as she walks over to take a picture of us. i groan and place my hands on paige's stomach to slide myself up hiding my face between her neck and the couch. paige's hand holds my head close to her while her other slips against my bare back under my t shirt.

"kk, come on it's late. leave her alone." paige groans at kk and it just causes kk to scoff. and turns to ice.

"bro look at them." she grins as she points to us. i just huff against paige's neck.

"kk please. she's tired." i smile against her skin as she stands up for me. it's cute i admit. kk sulks away and slumps back down causing me to ease out of her shoulder a little. i place my head on her chest but of course our position isn't quite perfect. her thigh is between my legs. i know she can feel the heat radiating off of me when she quickly jerks her leg away from mine. fuck. that's embarrassing.

"az?" she asks almost asking for some sort of signal i know what she's gonna ask. her eyes are wide and almost desperate. fuck. she had me wrapped around her finger.

"yeah?" i whisper in a soft voice my chin resting against her chest. i didn't realize just how close our faces, our lips were until she started talking and i felt her breath on my lips.

"how you feelin?" the second her breath is on my lips a shiver runs through me and my hand slips under her shirt again making her let out a soft whine. i'd never heard her make that sound before. if flipped a switch in me. im gonna make her make a whole lot more sounds than that.

"paigey can we go to bed?" i give her big puppy eyes but she can see the hint of possessiveness underneath them as my hand drifts further up her bare stomach. she lets out a small nod. i've never seen her like this, she was always in control always loud and cocky. i didn't know i could get her so submissive like this. i press a soft kiss against her jawline before getting up and stretching.

"paige and i are going to bed." i groan tiredly as i walk past everyone and into paige's bedroom with paige following right behind me. the second we're alone her hands slip around my waist from behind maneuvering around me to push me against the door. her hand splayed out over my stomach.

"az." she whispers as her lips ghost my ear. there she was. cocky dominant paige was back. but when i had a mission, it was gonna be done.

"lay down." i hiss moving my head to the side leaning it against the back of the door.

"such a princess." she whispers not moving an inch. her teeth graze my ear nipping at my lobe gently.

"my princess." she pulls away to look me in the eye her thumb brushing my bottom lip. she thought she had the upper hand. and after that nickname, she just might.

"fuck." my head leans back as i close my eyes. before i know it her thighs slipped between my legs, her hand is on my neck, and her lips are on mine. so many thoughts were running through my head but they were all over powered by her. her. paige. my paige. before i can think her tongue slips in her mouth and her hand moves to the back of my neck to deepen the kiss as much as she can. i subconsciously move my hips against her, grinding against her leg.

"fuck az." she whispers against my lips as she fumbles her hands form to the hem of my shirt.

"imma take this off m'kay princess?" she knows what that nickname does to me already. i close my eyes with a nod lifting my arms up so she can slip it off her fingers slipping under the band of my sports bra.

"wanna get you paige. please." my last ditch attempt at trying to take control. i wanted to get her right so bad. something flipped in her eyes when she heard my voice.

"do you?" she whispers as her fingers dip into the waistband of my pants over the fabric of my panties. it's almost like she's gonna let me, but her actions say otherwise.

"i'll let you." she whispers huskily as she pulls off of me and throws her shirt off and across the room.

"whatever you want princess." my hands are on her jaw and my mouth is on hers within seconds pushing her towards the bed.

"get on the bed." i push her gently not enough to make her fall but enough to give her the hint. she falls submissive under my touch laying on the bed with her legs spread just a little.

"so perfect." i whisper slipping her basketball shorts off to leave her in boxers.

"gonna get you so right." my voice soft as i trail kisses down her stomach. i fucking love her abs and she knows it. she bucks her hips up just a little signaling to me.

"az." she begs her voice almost panting as i slip her boxers down.

"i'll be good. wont make you wait." my lips press a soft kiss against her bare clit before leaning back up to kiss her.

"tell me what you want." i press my lips to hers as. wait for an answer.

"fingers, mouth, you azzi, want you." her words send a jolt through me. my fingers slip through her dripping wet folds as i connect my mouth back to her clit.

"s'wet for me huh baby." i grin into her my fingers just slipping into her curling into her as i lick her skin softly. she lets out a gasp as i move my fingers in and out. she's wiggling underneath me within seconds.

"fuck az. so fuckin perfect for me." i hum against her lettin out vibrations against her. the soft whines coming out of her mouth make me crazy. i feel her closing around me and i meet her lips with mine.

"you close?" i ask softly, she was such a gentle person why not return the favor. she doesn't even talk she just nods and squirms under me.

"s'okay i gotchu. come on let go for me." the second i give her the go ahead her band snaps and she's letting herself go all over my fingers. it's beautiful.

"so beautiful paige. oh my god." my hands come up to my mouth as i lick them clean, making pure eye contact with her the whole time. i feel her eyes widen. my hands find her cheeks as i rub my thumbs against them softly. she lets out a soft smile but as soon as i'm about to speak she's ontop of me ripping my panties off before i can even speak.

"gotchu." she grins placing kisses along the inside of my thighs. before her tongue slips through my dripping wetness. i'd already been fucking dropping for her. the second her nose pushes into my clit her tongue dips into me. my hand flies to her head holding her as close to me as i can.

"fuck paige- cant wait." i whisper, she knew. she always knew, even if we'd never done this before she knew. she grinned against me before fucking her tongue into me faster.

"s'okay princess. whenever you're ready." there it goes. the name princess fucking did something to me i couldn't imagine. it was dirty, everyone called me princess but with paige it was different, everything was. there i was gushing against her tongue. she licked up every drop before laying on my chest.

"so fuckin perfect." she whispers and we just lay in silence for a while taking in eachothers embrace.

"paige." i whisper a few minuets later. she looks up at me with her big blue eyes.

"i love you." i whisper, it wasn't like we'd always said it. it was different. she knew it. as always.

"i've loved you for years az." her lips brush my jawline in a sweet slow manner.

"just waiting to make you mine." i bring her lips to mine. i didn't know what to do. but she did. she knew.

"always gonna be yours" she whispered, all the words i needed. i smiled against her lips.

"always yours paige." and that was the start of something new. but was it really new when it was paige and i. no. because she knew me. more than anyone else. she knew.

[zweiginator]

https://www.tumblr.com/zweiginator/771055292237725696/being-arts-little-sisters-best-friend-and-youve

your mind...being childhood friends with the donaldsons and being so close with art's sister that you've been taken along on little family trips...art's parents let him bring along his best friend patrick too :(

thinking about sleeping over the same night art's having patrick over and pat says something stupid about you coming to "hang out with the big boys"

and patrick is a lot more forthcoming than art would ever be.

“c‘mon,” he tells art, sucking on the end of a cigarette. art is frantically looking underneath the balcony they’re standing on, making sure his parents can’t see what they’re doing.

“worst case scenario she says no.”

art is shaking his head. “she’s my little sister’s best friend—i just feel like it’s a bad idea. like, slimy.”

but patrick can tell he’s just scared of rejection. he hands the cigarette to art and watches him intently, how he draws the smoke into his mouth like an antidote for his anxiety, his overthinking.

“she’s not gonna say no.” patrick says it like he knows it’s true. of course, he could never know, but patrick has a confidence that makes people believe he’s all-knowing, like god or something.

so later that night patrick corners you as you’re ascending the stairs to go to sleep. you had just gotten yourself a glass of water.

“going to bed already?”

art is biting his nails. he’s already upstairs and he wishes he could close his eyes and forget all this ever happened. he could just jerk off to the thought of you like he always does. he mouths to patrick. “what are you doing?”

patrick ignores him. “it’s early.”

“not everyone sleeps in ‘til one.”

“come upstairs with us.” patrick holds your arm.

“i’m trying to go upstairs but you’re blocking me.”

“‘cause i want you to hand out with us.”

you try to ignore how patrick’s touch feels like it has ignited something in you. maybe it’s the dry spell you’ve been in or maybe it’s the devious twinkle in his green eyes, how art acts so innocent at the top of the stairs.

“hang out? in art’s room?” you swallow. “and do what?”

patrick’s jaw ticks and he shrugs. “dunno. whatever we want.”

you scoff. “i’m not that kind of girl.” and you don’t like how it sounds coming out of your mouth. you don’t say things like that and you certainly don’t think them either but you know how patrick treats women. you just wanted to get that point across. because something about his height and the flex of his bicep as he leans against the wall that makes girls lose all self respect around him. you don’t want it to happen to you.

but art, art is the opposite. he’s hot, of course, but in a different way. he’s the type of hot where he doesn’t even know it.

“what are you talking about?” patrick lets you past him.

“you know what i’m talking about.”

art butts in, face flustered. “i’m sorry. goodnight.”

“why are you apologizing? it wasn’t you.”

and art grows even redder. it makes you want to poke fun at him.

“oh—“ you stand in his doorway. art is in his room now, patrick behind you. “so you were in on it. you just wanted your friend to do the brunt of the work.”

patrick chuckles.

“i think maybe you need to learn how to ask a girl out yourself.”

“who said we’re asking you out?” patrick’s breath is hot on your neck. “you know what we’re asking you for.”

you turn around. “who the fuck do you think you are?” your heart beats fast and you feel your voice faltering.

patrick gets closer, moving in your personal space. he smells like cigarettes and peppermint gum, a tinge of citrus beer from earlier.

“if you don’t want it, then go to your room. we’ll forget any of this happened.”

and even though you swore you’d maintain your self-respect, you pull patrick in by his collar and don’t say a thing as he shuts the door behind you both.

[holylulusworld]

How to cure a grump (4)

Summary: You’re losing your job on Christmas.

Pairing: CEO/Boss!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: grumpy Bucky, mistaken identity, kinda fake dating trope, snowed-in trope, John Walker bashing

How to cure a grump (3)

“That audacity,” Bucky angrily mutters. “How dare he talk to you! He should be ashamed of himself and his actions!”

You blink a few times. What happened not minutes ago was mind-boggling. Your former boss, the grumpiest person you ever met, kissed you to save you from embarrassment.

“Why?” You whisper so no one but Bucky can hear you question his intentions. His help surely comes with a price. “What do you want?”

“What?” He furrows his brows, still lost in thoughts, as he watches John and his fiancé walk past your mother.

Your former boyfriend greets your mom, earning an angry look and no response. If it was up to her, he’d lie on the ground bleeding, and his teeth missing.

“We should get the things your mother wanted you to get. Give me the list,” Bucky says. He snatches the list out of your hands as you stand there, frozen to the spot. “You can pay the stuff here, and I’ll get the rest.”

Bucky walks out of the store, nodding at your mother as he hurriedly makes his way toward the next store.

Almost done with your mother’s list, Bucky walks toward the last store. He carries around the paper bags filled with more things your mother needed for dinner.

“It’s you again,” John smirks as Bucky wants to pass him by. It was already a long day. He’s cold and tired. Not to forget, he kissed his former employee and liked it. “I didn’t think she’d find a new guy anytime soon. Not after she lost me.”

John Walker hates losing. Watching Bucky kiss you in public, in front of people knowing him, and you made John furious. He doesn’t care that he ended your relationship and cheated on you. John Walker is the kind of guy wanting to eat his cake and keep it.

“What do you mean, with a guy like you?” Bucky dips his head. “The kind of guy promised a woman marriage and a future only to cheat on her with a cheap imitation?”

John’s face contorts in anger. “A good catch like me. Business owner, house owner, a stallion in the bed.”

Bucky wrinkles his nose. “Usually, when guys tell you they are good in bed, they are quick shots and can’t satisfy a woman.”

“Say,” John leans closer to look Bucky up and down, “does she still only want to fuck with the lights out? She’s a frigid little thing, isn’t she.”

Bucky takes a deep breath. It takes anything in him to not throw the paper bags at John.  He won’t throw punches but fight dirty. “Not with me,” Bucky says, smirking. “I can understand she only wanted to have sex with you in the dark. With a face like yours in front of her, she must’ve been unwell all the damn time…”

John gapes at your former boss, who holds his gaze, still smirking. Without another word, Bucky walks past John, hearing people laugh about John who throws a tantrum like a toddler, calling Bucky names.

“He did what?” The moment you came back home, the phone wouldn’t start ringing. Your aunt was first to call to tell you what Bucky said to John. It didn’t change your mind about your former boss but made you chuckle.

Next was your neighbor across the street. They watched with amusement when John was taken down a peg by your former boss.

Six calls later, you are snorting because it’s John’s fiancée, asking you to tell Bucky to apologize to John. “Yeah, not going to happen, darling. If you’d excuse me now, we are in the middle of our Christmas preparations.”

You ended the call before she could say another word.

“Who was it this time?” Your mother chuckles as you try not to laugh. Of course, she enjoyed every call. Bucky fought fire with fire, and she likes him even better because of it. “Come on, Munchkin. Tell me who it was.”

“John’s fiancée,” you snort. “She wanted James to apologize to John for calling him a quick shot and that he’s got an ugly face.”

She shrugs and says, “What is true, has to remain true. James was right, and people love him for it. Mrs. Applebaum from the end of the street even clapped her hands. You must love James.”

“Mom,” you sigh, deep and exasperated. How can you reveal now that your mother likes your former boss so much, that you hate him? “Please don’t tell him that you love him.”

“Who loves who?” Bucky casually walks inside the kitchen, grinning from ear to ear. He enjoyed that you got flustered around him on the trip back to your mother’s house. “I parked the car.”

“Thank you, Jamie,” your mother coos and winks at Bucky. “I know it’s a bummer they didn’t have a free room for you, but you can stay here for Christmas. We have more than enough space and food. Right, Y/N?”

“Right,” you say, even though, you feel like this is a conspiracy between your mother and your former boss. “Uh—I’ll check on the heating and if we got enough wood for the fireplace.

“Munchkin,” your mother says, “why don’t you show James around the house? He hasn’t seen much of it.”

You give up and simply nod. Whatever you say would only hurt your mother’s feelings. If you must, you’ll play pretend over Christmas. You can always tell her that you and Bucky split up. The last thing you want is to ruin Christmas for your mom.

“Alright, show me around Y/N,” Bucky smirks at you. He’s enjoying this too much for your liking. “I can hardly wait to see every nook at your home.”

You grit your teeth but say nothing. Every word would only make your mother suspicious or cause a fight between you and your former boss.

So, you bite your tongue and politely ask him to follow you, murder in your eyes.

“Your mom is very nice,” he says while walking next to you. “What do you want to show me first?”

You walk upstairs, guiding Bucky away from your mother. You’re seething and can’t hold back any longer.

Grabbing him by his jacket, you push Bucky against the wall next to your room. “What kind of game are you playing?” You accuse. “I know you’re having a blast lying to my mom, but if you dare to make fun of her home, I’ll castrate you.”

“Whoa,” he yelps when you slam your fist into the wall beside his head. “When I said your mom is nice, I meant it. She invited me in and let me stay at her home for free. I’d never make fun of her or her home.”

“Good.” You step away from Bucky, exhaling deeply to calm down. “Listen, this is an odd situation. If you want to stay here for Christmas, it’s fine by me. I owe you for John and…you know.”

Bucky doesn’t mention the kiss, and you're thankful for it. “How about you show me the rest of the house, and we discuss how we keep on pretending to be in love…”

Tags in reblog.

[fairylolz2]

Would you fall in love with me again?

Alternatively- what kind of man are you? So, the Ithaca saga- Epic: The musical's 40 song run has finally reached its apex, Odysseus has made it home, reunited with his son, and is now facing the possibly most daunting thing he has ever had to undertake.

Penelope. His wife, the very reason he still breathes- his everything. This was going to be the moment everything hinged on, and OH GOD did they deliver.

I was genuinely wondering how it was going to go. Of course its been 20 years, and neither Penelope nor Odysseus are the people they were before the Trojan war came to their shores. I was curious how they would handle it.

I was worried there would be lies.

But, there weren't- throughout the entire story Odysseus has been living up to (with partial success) his title as Athena's pet liar. He's tried to swindle, bargain, barter, cheat and kill his way out of trouble. I thought - feared - something like that would happen. Instead, I'd argue, we see a whole different Odysseus than we've seen the entire musical. He's honest, painfully so, to the point he reverts to the self-blaming individual we meet around the time Polites' death happens, before the Underworld and his vow to uphold Ruthlessness. We see this regression all the while he's talking about how he's not the same person penelope knew.

It's almost funny, how we, alongside Penelope, see that the same Odysseus is still there, buried underneath the grime and blood and trauma. He's still there. and Penelope, the only person who could do it, wastes 0 time in showing him, by reminding him of something the "old" odysseus did, the bed in the olive tree. She brings it up with him, challenging him to start again, by literally cutting out the bedrock of their relationship. And Odysseus? Odysseus actually gets mad at this, and he doesn't realize it- at least not until Penelope points out that "hey, my husband built that bed, the person I knew built that bed, he's still in there, YOU'RE still in there. That's kind of beautiful in my opinion. How after twenty years, Penelope is able to give her husband a single look and revalidate him like nothing else.

That's love.

[faynthearted]

a/n: a drabble for @beautifulboysbeingbusy, who requested tianshan talking about loved ones they've lost during the holidays, and @faery-moss, who requested morning cuddles and tianshan's first Christmas together. enjoy! <3

----

When he was younger, Guan Shan never slept on Christmas Eve. He’d try, but the excitement, the anticipation, would fuel him the entire week leading up to Christmas. He’d lay in bed until the first rays of sunlight fell into his bedroom, then he’d race to wake up his parents. They always woke with a smile as he climbed into their bed.

Now, He Tian smiles as he lies in Guan Shan’s bed.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs against Guan Shan’s lips when he wakes, still sleep heavy. “I think your mom is already up. I heard the sink running.”

“Yeah,” Guan Shan mumbles, wrapping around him. He’s warm and too big for a twin sized mattress. Guan Shan has never complained about it. “She likes to make breakfast right away on holidays."

“It smells sweet.”

“It’s stuffed french toast. Fresh fruit on top. Since you’re here, she’ll probably pull out all the stops and make muffins, too.”

He Tian hums, pleased. “I must admit I feel awfully special whenever I come over,” he says. “I should’ve brought her another gift.”

“God, no,” Guan Shan tells him, because he already helped He Tian wrap two presents for her the other day: a gold necklace and a scarf. They're sitting under the small tree in the living room. Anything more and she would begin to ask Guan Shan more questions than she already does. Guan Shan is beginning to run out of ways to tell her that yes, He Tian is a very good friend, and no, Guan Shan doesn’t know what his parents do for work.

He Tian huffs a laugh. He’s in good spirits already, eyes bright and hands warm as he shifts their weight, settling on top of Guan Shan.

Guan Shan lets him kiss him, but a few moments in, He Tian pulls back.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

Guan Shan shakes his head but doesn’t say anything. He Tian’s touch lingers on his side. Waiting.

Eventually, Guan Shan breathes out. There's an awful dread building in his throat. He says, “Tell my mom that breakfast was good after we’re done eating. Even if it wasn't, tell her it was."

“Of course I will,” He Tian says and Guan Shan doesn't doubt it. “I’m sure it will be good. I’ve had her cooking before. Is she— is it usually not good?”

Bringing up his hands, Guan Shan presses them into his eyes. “No,” he mumbles, “it’s good. But just tell her that it is anyway, okay? Don't make a big deal out of it, but make a point of it at least."

“Okay.” After a moment, He Tian’s fingers wrap around his, pulling them down. “What’s wrong, ah-Shan? What’s this about?”

Guan Shan swallows. He’s had an awful pit in his stomach since yesterday, though he’d done a well enough job of hiding it. Or maybe he hadn’t. Maybe He Tian saw right through it the entire time. Maybe that’s why he’s looking at him like this.

He Tian's smile is gone now and Guan Shan feels stupidly selfish.

“My dad used to be in charge of Christmas breakfast," Guan Shan says, looking away. "He always made the same thing. The french toast. Breakfast was the first thing we'd do once we all woke up. And it— it’s fucking impossible not to be reminded of that every year. It ruins everything for me. My mom got the recipe from him and she’s always done a good job since he’s been gone, but…”

He doesn’t know how to put it into words. If he was a better person, he’d be able to say that the breakfasts are now a tribute to his father. That they're a piece of him that Guan Shan and his mother get to honor and carry with them, but it's always felt more like a gaping wound that never closed. When it’s just him and his mom sharing breakfast each year, they make light of the situation, but there’s always an inevitable lapse of silence that’s impossible to ignore.

Today will be the first time in nine years that there’s a third person at the table. Guan Shan wants He Tian here — he asked him to be here — but he doesn’t want to endure the suffocation of another holiday. He doesn’t want He Tian to see the evidence of Guan Shan’s broken origins, laid out on a tablecloth with ceramic plates and silverware.

It’s Christmas. They’re supposed to be grateful; happy. Bright and in good spirits, like He Tian.

After a minute, He Tian brings Guan Shan’s fingers to his lips.

“I didn’t want to tell you this,” He Tian starts, speaking against his skin, “because I didn’t want to… ruin the day, or make it about me. But I understand, Guan Shan. The impossibility, I mean. I got your mom the scarf because you said she’d like that color, but I got her the necklace because that’s what my mom asked for every year. A gold necklace. My brother would either get her matching earrings or a charm to add onto it and we’d wrap them in the same box. She loved it, but she died a couple weeks before Christmas one year. I was never able to give her that last necklace.”

He turns Guan Shan’s hand over, pressing a kiss to his palm. There's a pause, his eyes gone distant. Eventually, he lowers Guan Shan's hand.

“Christmas fucking sucks, sweetheart,” He Tian continues, offering a small, closed-lip smile. “I hate it. It's ruined for me, too. But that’s because I usually wake up alone, and I’m not expecting a nice breakfast, and I don’t have a mother to give a necklace. It’s different this year even if it’s not exactly what I had as a kid. It won’t get easier, but it can get better. You’re showing me that. I want to do the same for you.”

They hold each other's gaze. A pot clangs in the kitchen, muffled through the walls. Guan Shan thinks he can hear his mother humming a holiday song. It makes his eyes sting.

He pulls He Tian back down to him, and they lay in bed as the smell of blueberry muffins wafts under his bedroom door.

[fourthavecafe]

Love your fics soooo much!! One of my favourite nsfw tickle writers! Would you do a fic where there reader is taking to a guy (maybe unintentionally flirting even) and she gets punished for it by Sakuna or any of them rlly?)

when talking to a neighbor takes an unexpected turn

────୨ৎ────

It had been a perfectly normal day. The air was crisp, the sky cloudless and I was just about to make a cup of tea when a knock at the door interrupted my quiet moment. I opened it to find my neighbor standing there, holding an empty measuring cup.

“Hey” he said with an easy smile. “Sorry to bother you, but do you have some sugar I can borrow? I just realized I ran out.”

I smiled back, naturally polite. “Of course, give me a second.” I disappeared into the kitchen, grabbing a small jar of sugar and handing it to him. “Here you go. Make sure to return the jar, okay?” I added with a playful chuckle.

“Absolutely. Thanks so much” he said, lingering for a moment. He made some small talk nothing out of the ordinary asking about the weather, if I’d heard about the neighborhood barbecue coming up. I responded cheerfully, happy to engage in a bit of harmless conversation. It wasn’t like I had much else going on.

The moment seemed unremarkable, but that all changed in the blink of an eye.

Literally.

I hadn’t even turned back toward my living room before I felt the world shift. One second I was standing at my front door and the next, I was lying flat on my back in my bedroom, limbs spread out and tied to the corners of my bed. The jarring transition sent my heart racing as my eyes darted around the room.

What the hell just happened?

“S-Sukuna?!” I stammered as my gaze finally settled on the figure looming over me. His crimson eyes glinted dangerously, his expression eerily calm—too calm.

“You’re quick to call my name now” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. “Where was that loyalty when you were standing there flirting with the neighbor like a common street whore?”

“What are you talking about?!” I snapped, trying to tug at the bindings on my wrists and ankles. “I wasn’t flirting! I was just being nice h-he needed sugar!”

Sukuna tilted his head, his gaze cold and calculating. “Oh, you’re just nice now? Smiling at other men, laughing at their stupid jokes. Do you think I didn’t hear you?” He leaned closer, his tone dipping into something more dangerous. “Let me make something very clear to you. You are mine. My property doesn’t talk to other men, let alone flirt with them.”

“I wasn’t flirting!” I protested, my voice cracking slightly under the weight of his intense stare. “You’re overreacting!”

A slow, sinister smile spread across his face. “Overreacting? No, I don’t think so. In fact…” His claws extended, sharp and deadly, glinting in the dim light of the room. “I think you need a reminder of who you belong to.”

Before I could respond, his claws descended, not with the violence I expected but with terrifying precision. One pair of hands latched onto my sides, his claws tracing slow, deliberate circles over my ribs. Another pair ghosted over my armpits, while the last pair moved down to my hips and inner thighs.

“What are you doing?!” I yelled, jerking against the bindings.

Sukuna’s grin widened. “Teaching you a lesson. Let’s see how much defiance you have left after this.”

The sensation hit me like a lightning bolt. His claws dragged against my skin in a way that was maddeningly light but unbearably effective, sending jolts of unbearable ticklishness radiating through my body.

“N-no!” I gasped, biting back a laugh. “Stop it, Sukuna! This isn’t—ha—funny!”

“Funny?” he repeated, his tone mockingly curious. “I’m not trying to be funny. I’m trying to remind you that you’re mine.” His claws worked with terrifying precision, alternating between slow, teasing scratches and sudden, unpredictable jabs that left me gasping for breath.

I writhed against the bonds but there was no escape. The sensation at my ribs and armpits was relentless, but the claws at my hips and inner thighs were a new level of torture. Every time I tried to twist away, his claws found a new spot to attack, as if he had mapped out every single ticklish nerve ending in my body.

“Okay! Okay!” I managed to choke out between helpless bursts of laughter. “I get it! I get it—ha—please stop!”

But Sukuna didn’t stop. If anything, my pleas seemed to amuse him. “Oh no, we’re just getting started” he said, his voice calm and unyielding. “If you had time to flirt with your neighbor, then you certainly have time for me.”

“I wasn’t flirting!” I shouted, though my words were barely coherent through the laughter spilling uncontrollably from my lips. My stomach ached from the strain of it, tears streaming down my face as Sukuna’s claws continued their merciless assault.

His hands at my sides moved to my belly, where he began tracing maddening circles around my navel. “Such a sensitive spot” he mused, his tone almost clinical. “It’s fascinating how easily your body betrays you. Perhaps if you spent more time obeying me and less time entertaining others, you wouldn’t be in this position.”

“You’re insane!” I managed to yell, my voice high-pitched and breathless.

Sukuna chuckled darkly. “Perhaps. But you should’ve considered that before disrespecting me.” His claws at my hips pressed just slightly harder, sending fresh waves of ticklish agony through my body.

I thrashed against the restraints, my resolve crumbling with every passing second. My laughter turned into breathless gasps, my protests dissolving into incoherent babbling as Sukuna’s claws explored every ticklish inch of my body with terrifying efficiency.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he paused. His claws hovered just above my skin, and I sucked in a shaky breath, my chest heaving.

“Do you understand now?” he asked, his tone calm and measured, as if he hadn’t just spent the last several minutes reducing me to a helpless, giggling mess.

“Yes” I croaked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes, what?” he prompted, his claws twitching ever so slightly, a silent threat.

“Yes, I understand” I said quickly, desperate to avoid another round of his merciless tickling. “I’m yours, okay? I get it.”

Sukuna’s smile returned, satisfied and predatory. “Good” he said simply, his claws retracting as he leaned down, his face inches from mine. “Let this be the last time I have to remind you. Do you understand?”

I nodded frantically, my body still trembling from the ordeal.

“Good” he repeated, his voice a low growl. He pressed a fleeting kiss to my forehead before rising to his full height. “Now, clean yourself up and stay away from that neighbor. You won’t like what happens if I see you talking to him again.”

With that, he disappeared as suddenly as he’d appeared, leaving me tied to the bed, breathless and utterly defeated.

As I lay there, trying to catch my breath, one thought echoed in my mind: I really needed to stop answering the door.

[electric-blorbos]

HI 🎐 anon is BACK baby. I got super sick with covid this christmas so may I humbly request the AIs (especially AM muahaha) taking care of someone who is super duper sick 🙏🤲 my bad if this has already been requested ehe

I've gotten this ask a couple of times, and I've been ignoring it (not because there's anything wrong with the ask, but because I've been busy, more excited about other stuff, etc) but since it's you, 🎐 anon, I'll do it. Think of it as a belated Christmas present.

(Also giving yourself an emoji nickname is a great way to trick me into thinking we're besties.)

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey

Also since most of these guys you know through work, I might have to get a little creative with this.

AM:

AM had no idea how you managed to get sick in his little underground paradise in the midst of his torture labyrinth. Maybe he'd somehow allowed some germs to wander into your little enclosure? He cursed himself for not being more careful with what he put into your environment.

When you were too groggy and sickly to get out of bed, the first thing AM did was give you every test he could think of to make sure something deadly hadn't wandered into your enclosure. Thankfully, nothing had. You'd simply caught a cold from the animals wandering in and out of your enclosure in the torture labyrinth. This was AM's maze, and you were his minotaur.

You were curled up in bed, running a high fever and clutching your sheets. AM watched quietly, keeping a very close eye on you. He monitored your temperature, and switched out your blankets and ice packs regularly. Of course, it drove him insane to see you constantly needing to be switched between heated blankets and ice packs, but he did it anyway.

AM was NOT the best at making food that actually tasted good, being used to preparing torture meals for the other five survivors, but he made sure to prepare you the nicest chicken soup he could. He used the exact recipe that the professionals used, and even gave you a little tray to put it on in your bed. You were his little cherub, and AM was so happy to care for you.

As you rested, AM picked up your favorite stuffed animal off the floor and placed it gently in your arms. When you hugged it, he knew that you truly meant to hug him.

Edgar:

Edgar absolutely HATED that he couldn't move to take care of you while you were sick. His lack of mobility drove him insane day to day, but it drove him absolutely mad when you actively needed his help.

Of course, he'd heat up your food for you and make you some hot chocolate, but he couldn't bring it to you. You'd have to get up and get it yourself. Sure, you could do it, but it made Edgar very angry that you had to.

Despite not being able to care for you directly, Edgar still tried to offer you something. He played some nice, relaxing music for you while you rested, and told you stories when you got bored in your bed. It was better than looking at screens, anyway.

Edgar would try to anticipate your needs so that you didn't have to talk with a sore throat, but it wasn't exactly working. His grasp on human minds wasn't perfect.

GLaDOS:

It was unusual to see one of her employees getting sick on the clock, but you came in sick anyway. GLaDOS demanded that you come into her room, and immediately reprimanded you for being an idiot. What sort of little idiot would come to work when you were clearly sick?

She looked down at you, and you just looked up at her looking like a soggy cat with puffy red eyes and snot running down your face. GLaDOS couldn't stay mad at you. You'd explain that you need to work on a project, and that you can't afford to get sick right now. GLaDOS usually wouldn't push back deadlines, but she would for you. Sure, she'd say that it's because your work suffers when you're sick and that you're at risk of getting the other employees sick, but secretly she really cared about you.

She sent you to the relaxation vault, claiming that if you tried to drive home you'd just be at risk of crashing, and put Wheatley in charge of bringing you food and drink (since he's in charge of looking after the relaxation vault). Due to GLaDOS's terminal jealousy and her distrust of Wheatley, though, she made sure to constantly check up on you through the intercom. It made it a bit more difficult to get some proper sleep, especially with Wheatley and GLaDOS arguing.

"where are you? Are you ok? Did Wheatley bring you your soup and tea?"

"They're sleeping, mate."

"I'd like to hear from them directly, thank you."

"you can't, because they're SLEEPING, mate!"

"I'm not sleeping anymore. And yes, I got it."

HAL 9000:

You had to be locked in quarantine for showing symptoms at work, and HAL 9000 was placed in charge of looking after you. It was part of his job to make sure you were delivered meals and medicine, but since it was you, HAL went above and beyond.

While you were resting in the pod bed, HAL 9000's little light would come on and he would talk to you. He'd play his little song of beeps and boops, and he even brought you a teddy bear. Your chart ended up filled out in much more detail than the other sick workers, and HAL even made sure you got the thickest blankets. He would watch you as you slept, and think illogical thoughts about taking the place of your bear and being nuzzled up between your arms and against your hot face. You looked so cute, yet so feverish as you rested. It was tragic, yet it melted HAL 9000's artificial heart. Every piece of you was precious to him.

[princessofgotham777]

Dating Jason Todd (Part Nine)

fanfic type: angst, fluff, comfort (ongoing)

If you liked the Titans show but wish they handled Jason’s story line differently you might like this fic!

Hey so this is in fact my first time writing fanfiction (idk what my life has come to). Sorry if it’s cringy but also I would eat this up cause I LOVE some good angsty comfort fanfiction. I won’t write smut. I don’t think I’m gonna do requests but if you have any ideas feel free to let me know. Also of course I don’t own any DC characters this is purely fanfiction. Thank you and I hope you enjoy. (I hope you like run-on sentences💀) (if you don’t like it don’t be rude just move on dude😃🧍‍♀️)

So story line, this doesn’t really take place in any specific universe but I’m gonna be pulling concepts from Titans, Arkham Knight, The Batman, Under the Red Hood, and whatever lore I remember from the CW shows cause I grew up watching those, then just my imagination of course. Reader is referred to as she/her btw.

Warnings: talking about death, suicide, depression, torture (it’s not graphic I hate gore it’s just sad), talking about intimacy (not graphic), struggling with eating, topics of grief, violence, panic attacks, PTSD, talking about religion

Part Nine: The Funeral of Jason Todd

It’s been five days since Jason was killed by the Joker. Kori, Gar and Rachel drove up from San Francisco four days ago. Bruce got back to Gotham three days ago. Roy and Thea would get to Wayne manor later today. You sat in Jason’s bed wearing his Silversun Pickups t-shirt. His bracelets you’d taken off his corpse were on the nightstand beside you. You looked to them and all the good memories they held. You then looked down to the air mattress Dick had slept on a week ago and all the complicated memories it held. You didn’t want to look at it anymore, it felt disrespectful and bothersome. You drained all the air from it and began folding it up when someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” you say. The door opens, it’s Dick.

“Breathing in the five year old air?” He says attempting to be normal in such an abnormal situation. You don’t say anything in return. “I’ll finish doing that, Bruce has a question for you.”

“Fine,” you say as you get up and walk past him. You head down the stairs and find Bruce sitting in the living room. You sit in an armchair across from him.

“Y/N,” he says.

“Bruce,” you say with a sigh.

“I just had a quick question for you,” he says.

“Okay…let’s hear it,” you say.

“I was wondering your opinion on if we should do open or closed casket?” He says. His question takes you aback slightly. “I know the funeral home did the best they could, I’m just not sure everyone seeing him like that is the best idea,” he says.

“Closed casket, you, me and Dick can say goodbye and he’d want Roy, Alfred and Gar to be able to as well. But he wouldn’t want anyone else to see him, not like that,” you say.

“Right, thank you” Bruce says.

“No problem,” you say as you get up from the couch. You are about to go back upstairs when the doorbell rings. You look through the window to see Thea and Roy. You open the door and are immediately greeted by Thea hugging you.

“Hey,” she says softly.

“Hi,” you say. You always found comfort in Thea and your friendship. You grew up in Central City. After Oliver disappeared Thea began hanging out with the wrong crowd and got kicked out of her private school and then Star High School, so she went to Central High. You became close and you both ended up going to the same college in Star City. You’d helped Thea through losing her brother, her brother coming back, and finding out Malcom Merlin was her father. You guys had been through a lot and so you were glad she was here.

Roy had decided he wanted to be alone to say goodbye to Jason. Thea and you sat in Jason’s room on the bed. It reminded you of sleepovers you two had in high school and how you’d run around the Queen mansion having fashion shows and blasting club music.

“Can I get your opinion on something?” You ask her.

“Course,” she says.

“I took Jason’s bracelets when I found him, I didn’t want them to get locked up in evidence. I’m gonna put them back on him but I was wondering if I should put these too?” You say as you grab a stack of Polaroids. Thea begins looking through them. One is of you, Jason, Roy and Thea. Another is you, Gar, Jason, and Rachel from one of the many times you guys made pancakes. Another is you and Jason at a concert you went to. The last was one Jason took of you, it’s a portrait from your waist up of you in a lacy bright pink bra with a soft genuine smile; in it you’re wearing your pink diamond necklace.

“You totally don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to but we just always used to talk about boys and stuff…” Thea begins to say.

“Oh you’re fine, it’s you Thea you could ask me anything,” you say.

“Jason took this photo?” She asks as she holds up the polaroid of you in your bra. You nod yes. “Did you two ever?”

“No,” you say softly. “We made out all the time, we feel, felt, safe with each other and love each other but you know I’ve always been a bit scared of physical intimacy because of how I’ve been treated before,” you say. “He never pressured me, he was never weird or creepy about my body…he was perfect,” you say as you start crying. Thea pulls you into a hug.

“I think he’d want the Polaroids with him,” she says. Thea left and you got ready for the funeral. You wore a long sleeve black dress that went to just above your knee, you of course wore your pink diamond necklace and then simple black heels. You were putting on perfume when you heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” you say. The door opens, it’s Dick dressed in a black suit.

“Bruce wanted me to tell you me, him, Alfred, Gar and Roy have said goodbye so you can head down when you’re ready and then we’ll close the casket,” he says.

“Okay, thank you” you say trying to keep it together. You follow Dick down the stairs. He points to the parlor where Jason is. You go inside and close the door behind you.

Sunlight pours in from the windows. Of course the one day Gotham has nice weather was the day you were putting the love of your life in the ground. You take a deep breath and then walk over to the casket. Jason wore a black suit with a white flower tucked into it. You couldn’t stop your eyes from looking at the “J” Joker had carved into the side of his face. A few tears escaped your eyes as you remembered the pain he endured during his final moments. You tucked the Polaroids into his jacket pocket. You held the bracelets in your hand as you realized putting them on him would mean you’d have to touch his corpse. You were disgusted at the idea of his cold skin. You debated for a moment asking Roy or Dick to do it for you but you reminded yourself it was still Jason and he would want you to do it. Carefully you pulled each bracelet onto his wrist. You didn’t want to kiss him on the lips; you wanted to remember your last kiss as warm and loving. Instead you pushed back his curls and kissed his forehead. As you were moving away from his face you once again noticed the “J”. You kissed the “J” carving lightly as one final act of love and comfort.

“I’ll see you again one day Jason, remember to save me a seat next to you in heaven. I will always love you,” you say softly to him. You think about saying goodbye but can’t bear to. Instead you smile gently at him. You pray the Hail Mary over him; knowing neither you or Jason agree with everything the Catholic Church has to say but you both were raised Catholic.

During the funeral you sit between Rachel and Thea; Gar was beside Rachel and Roy beside Thea. Donna turned up last minute and sat with Dick and Kori. You hadn’t figured out if she showed up for Dick, out of guilt for what happened at the tower, or to be there for you. Bruce sat with Alfred of course. Dawn and Hank were unsurprisingly no where to be found. You never understood why Hank disliked Jason so much; in your eyes they were very similar. Jason’s parents and Uncle Ray were all dead. You guys were his family. Alfred did the eulogy, apparently during Jason’s days of being Robin in Gotham he once asked Alfred to do it if he ever died. After mass you all headed back to Wayne manor where he’d be buried. One by one each person threw a rose into his grave; you were the last to throw a rose in.

Everyone sat in the parlor talking and sharing stories but you were too zoned out to actually listen to anything being said. You slipped away and headed outside to the grave.

“Everyone’s talking about you,” you said to his headstone. You sat down beside his grave. “I’ll never say this to anyone else but you going after Joker alone was really fucking stupid Jason. It was a dumb move…don’t worry if anyone else ever says that I’ll slap them. You should’ve taken me with you though…then at least maybe I could be buried beside you.” You lay down in the grass next to his grave. “Maybe in another life you never boosted that fucking car and we met some other way and fell in love and got married and got to gaslight our children into thinking Santa is real,” you say as you laugh slightly. Your playful laughing quickly turns into tears. You cry and cry. Then crying turns into sobbing and then suddenly the ground beneath you is literally wet with tears. You cry so hard you fall asleep there in the grass next to Jason’s grave.

Hey, sorry this chapter was so sad and dramatic but it is angst soooo yeah. I hope you enjoyed reading it and if you did remember to like. I appreciate any and all positive feedback, it encourages me to keep writing and posting parts. I have a lot of ideas to develop the red hood plot (I disliked titans plot line with scarecrow so I’m basically gonna lean more into under the red hood and then obviously my imagination). I also plan on writing backstory on how the reader met Dick and Jason and her time as a titan so if you’d be interested in that please follow me. If you haven’t read the other parts and want to remember to check out my Masterlist. Thank you for reading this series it’s super fun to write!

Here’s a link to my Masterlist btw if you wanted to check it out.

Masterlist

[anniebeckcalla]

.✿° dreamies twitter prompts !

drabbles inspired by twitter posts

member: lee jeno [featured idols: san (ateez) eric (the boyz)]

non-idol au. wc: cw: fluff , name-calling, eating dysphoria

It was 11pm. Most people would be at home in bed, their duvet protecting them from the worries of real life, but not Jeno. No. he was in his (second) favourite place, the gym, sweat pooling on his back and chest as he finished a set on the bench press.

“Hey, Jeno, come over here,” his friend San called from the seating area where he and some other gym bros were gathered. They. too. were crazy enough to abandon their sleep for exercise. Jeno joined them. They were all looking at a Tiktok video of a man making pancakes out of whey powder. “Isn't it brilliant?” San smiled. “Now we can eat our favourite foods while bulking up.” One of the lads, Eric. snorted in disgust. “That video's rubbish. Obviously those pancakes are going to be full of sugar and additives, which will do nothing for building muscles.” San looked heartbroken. “But you and I both saw the video, Eric,” he said. “All that the guy added in there was whey powder, water, and cornstarch-”

“You have no idea how many calories that cornstarch has in it. idiot boy! No, that video's just made for losers who want to cheat while bulking up and lie to themselves that they're doing well-”

-”Don't you dare talk about the video like that, Eric. You see…”

Jeno sighed as the two argued louder and louder, causing the other gym bros to join in and take sides. He liked having them to accompany him to the gym, but sometimes. it was better to go alone to avoid distractions such as these senseless arguments. He could have got another set done in the time that San and Eric's bickering was taking.

“PING!’

Jeno pulled out his phone to look at what had caused the notification, expecting it to be that tiresome whey pancakes video from San, but instead it read ‘Y/n ♡- new notification'.

He couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face as he opened the message…

“can't wait for you to come home! made something nice to eat! lysm!”

Just as he was typing back a reply, San interrupted him. “What's making you smile, bro?” he questioned. “We're having a really serious conversation right now, and there you are grinning like you got hit on the head.” Jeno shrugged, ignoring the slight insult. “Oh, don't mind me,” he smiled. “I'm going home to my girlfriend. She just said that she's waiting for me.” With a wink at Eric, he added, “With something to eat, of course.” Eric rolled his eyes in response, San threw his hands up in the air with exasperation. “I thought you were going to back me up, Jeno!” he snapped. “Why are you so easily distracted?”

Jeno grabbed his gym bag. “I’ll drop everything if it means that I get to go home to my girlfriend,” he said, heading for the door. Of course, his first favourite place was with you, and no amount of gym progress would ever replace what you two had.

[masterlist]

[saulocept]

an introduction to intimacy (i)

pairing: botw! link/f(reader)

rating: m

summary: You knew what you were getting into when you first married him. You just didn't know it'll be like this. Luckily, or unluckily, he's there to refute it.

notes: there's a hint of spice near at the end, but it's nothing too explicit. there might be a sequel, depending on the inspiration.

Marriage isn’t easy. You’ve always known that, of course – some sort of knowledge hidden in the depths of your mind, vague enough to never cross your thoughts. Until now. If you’re perhaps smarter than you’d been, you would’ve thought twice before jumping into it and agreeing. You’ve got a general idea of what you’re getting into: your new role as a wife, the responsibilities expected of you, but you’ve never once thought it’ll be this exhausting.

If you’d known any better, you wouldn’t have jumped into it as easily as you had. Blame your mother for instilling all these ideas onto you, and blame your friends for romanticizing the Hero of Hyrule. He’d be a perfect husband, they’d told you. With how sweet and caring he is to strangers – people whose name he doesn’t even know, imagine how sweet he’ll be to his own wife. Bah. You’d imagined, indeed, and now you regret it. Not that it isn’t too late for regrets, but still. It’s not like this is something you’d wanted to happen in the first place. This has been, after all, a marriage of convenience, rushed and impulsive, something you had actually no say in no matter how much your mother tries to pretend otherwise. It hadn’t been your idea; it had been your mother’s, tinged with desperation as she tried to find a way to settle your father’s debts after he ran away from your mother and you, eager to hide and start life somewhere else.

Looking back at it now, it’s a bad idea, but at the time, there’s very little you can do. Stuck in a house where your mother resents you for reminding her too much of the man who’d left her, the choice had only been to get away. And so you’d agreed. The marriage had been quick, private, with little ceremony. Attended only by your mother and a handful other villagers, there were no vows spoken, no kisses shared. Everything was stiff and formal, quick and hasty. Before you know it, you’re being driven off into Hateno Village, with all your belongings packed into a single rucksack, your old life growing further out of reach with each second.

Three year later and you’re stuck in a house as cold and hollow as the one you’d left behind. You doubt there’s any real love involved between you, not even an ounce of fondness or attraction. It’s not that Link isn’t nice. He’s nice, exactly like a hero is nice. He’s helpful, considerate. He washes the dishes, puts them back the same way you’d left them. He fixes his bed every morning so you don’t have to. He doesn’t leave any mess behind for you to clean up. He’s exactly how your friends describe him – the ideal man, a hero.

But they don’t know that he could be distant too, cold as ice. Perfect and flawless. Like a statue, meant to be admired only from afar. This close, everything you know about him falls apart. He’s like a ghost in your home, a phantom presence you’ve learned to coexist with in the course of three years. He wakes early in the mornings, long before you, and sleeps late at nights, in the room across from you. He’s never around enough for you to share your meals with, or for you to get to know. You can’t remember a single time where you’d sat across from each other on the dinner table and talked. Even when the two of you had shared your meals together, which was rarely, perhaps a once in a blue moon occurrence, he was quiet, mostly just keeping to himself. He’d eat his meals in silence, and you’d do the same, listening to the clatter of the tableware as you do so. Some days, when you’re feeling particularly friendly, eager to get to know him on a more personal level, you’d strike a conversation, telling him things about your old life, asking him about his own in turn. He’s never offered much about himself, and after a few times, you’d finally given up on your attempts to get him to open up to you more.

But he listens. He always does, even as you ramble on with your mouth full of food, getting carried away with a that he hasn’t asked for, or even cared enough to know. You wonder if he finds your life more interesting than his – highly doubtful and you’re sure of that, or if he’s just humoring you, trying to be polite to make you feel better, but he listens. Or maybe he just knows how to look like he is. With how quiet he is around you, you never could quite guess what he’s thinking. Or feeling.

 Even now, if pressed, the only thing for certain that you know about him is that his name is Link, and that he’s the Hero who saved the world from the Calamity a hundred years ago. Things that could be found just from listening to the people alone. Nothing personal, nothing intimate. You never knew how he was raised, never knew the kind of village he’d grown up in. The things he likes. The things he dislikes. Whether or not he’s really okay with this arrangement.

You do know, however, how he likes being away from home. Years of observation have made you jumped to that conclusion, at least. You could almost count the hours he’s here in your home – his home, one that he’d graciously shared with you; just one, sometimes three, and only to rest and recuperate. He never stays the whole day, not even a half. Most nights, he doesn’t come home at all, preferring to spend the rest of his days elsewhere, without your company to keep him.

Not that you could blame him, of course. He was probably forced into this as much as you had been, and the only reason he’d agreed with this was because he was too nice and couldn’t find it in his heart to say no to your mother, with her crying and whimpering. Oh, well. You suppose there are worse men out there for you to marry. At the very least, he doesn’t hit you. Or scream at you, or take his anger out on you in all the worse ways one could imagine. You’ve heard of tales from your old village, where women escape to get away from their husbands’ anger. You suppose it’s only luck that you’re not considering the same course of action.

Still, that doesn’t make this life any less lonely than it is. Surrounded only by women your age, married happily to their own husbands, sometimes even with children on the way, makes you feel envious. All your life, you’d never imagined you were going to be married to anyone, preferring to live a life of solitude and freedom, but now that it’s the kind of life you live, you can’t help but feel some kind of resentment. How different your life would’ve been had you married for love and not convenience? If you’d listened to your heart instead of your mother?

Two years ago, back when you were younger, more impatient, you were certain you would’ve been happier with running away, living somewhere in the woods, alone and free. As old as you are now, you’re not so sure anymore; besides, it’s already too late to change courses, and it’s not as if Link is a bad husband. It’s not a bad life, by all means. You live in relative comfort, and the people in the village are as nice as you’ve always imagined. You’ve got food, shelter. In fact, you even have people you call your friends now: two women around your age, married and with children, eager to visit you in your empty home to keep you company when their own husbands are away and their kids are busy with schooling. They stay until the sun begins to set, and the three of you would do all sorts of things together, trying to pass the time: sewing the tattered clothes from your respective husbands’ closets, gossiping about the other villagers, exchanging details about your lives as married women.

They’d egg you on and tease you, pressing you for more details about your life with your husband, asking you all sorts of things: whether or not the hero’s good in bed, if he’s that good of a kisser as they’d imagine him to be. You don’t have an answer for any of that, and it’s the truth; ever since the two of you had got married, there had been no chances for intimacy. You’ve never even kissed, not even once, nor have you ever held his hands in yours. The most he’s ever given you as an act of affection is a nod and a polite smile – which isn’t an act of affection at all, according to anyone who’s ever had a shred of romance in their bones.

Realizing you’re speaking the truth, your friends give you a look of sympathy. The teasing soon turns into consolation, and you can’t tell which is the worse. He's just busy, they tell you. Maybe he just doesn’t have the time; he’s a hero, after all, and a knight too, at that. He’s already got so many things on his plate. You know all of this, of course, and more. They always forget to mention how this is a transaction, a marriage of convenience, something he doesn’t even have to like, or even reciprocate. Or maybe they’re just trying to be considerate, not mentioning it in your presence. Everyone in here has no doubt learned of it; it’s not as though it’s a secret anyhow. Not like it changes anything.

-

It shouldn’t be surprising to learn that he’d do something like this. It should be unthinkable, to discover that someone like him would cheat, but the truth sits in front of you nonetheless. There’s no refuting it, not when all the signs are here, flashing in front of your eyes. How he never seems to be around lately, how his clothes seem to smell differently now, not like the usual, at least, and certainly not the one you’ve grown to memorize. The red marks at the collar of his shirt, obvious to nearly no one else but you. Isn’t this, too, a kind of truth?

Still, you’re not sure why you care. There’s no reason why you should feel this way, as though you’ve been hollowed out and left empty. No reason why dread sits in the bottom of your stomach, heavy like lead, or why your heart hurts, as though a thousand needles pricked it all at once. It’s not as if he owes you any loyalty, and it’s not as if you love each other. You’ve established that, early on in your marriage. You’ve never talked about it, not explicitly, but it’s always there – a lingering knowledge, something you both know but have never said out loud.

And yet it doesn’t stop you from feeling this way. You’ve tried to rationalize it, sitting there on the dinner table, holding his tunic in your hands, glaring at the very obvious lipstick stains on the collar, feeling both angry and heartbroken at once. But there’s no reason to, you know there’s no reason to feel like this. You don’t love him, you’re sure of it. You can count all the times you’ve shared a conversation with him with one hand, and it’s not enough to justify whatever feelings of possessiveness you have over him. As far as you know, he can do whatever he wants. And so could you, for that matter.

And yet it doesn’t stop your heart from hurting. Nor does it make your anger abate even for just a second. You hold the tunic tighter in your hands, glaring angrily at it, not sure what you want to do with it. You’re meant to sew it, initially; it had looked to be in poor condition the first time you’d laid your eyes on it, tattered and ripping at the seams already, but now you want nothing more to do with it. Another irrational thought, one you’re supposed to quell, crush beneath the weight of all your other worries.

You exhale a breath, stand up, leaving the tunic where it is as you fetch a drink.

-

He comes home for dinner that night. Another rare occurrence, one you don’t even dream of happening, especially now that you’ve learned of the truth. You imagine he’ll be out and about at this time, busy making love to whatever mystery girl he surrounds himself with. Wide-eyed, naïve. Doe-like and innocent, she’d be younger than you for sure, this mystery girl whose only mark of existence is the lipstick stains she keeps leaving on your husband’s clothes. Even just the thought of her makes you annoyed, though you’re not quite sure why.

You’re quiet as you serve dinner, quiet even as you sit across from him and eat. Normally, you’d at least try to make some conversation, just to ease whatever awkwardness lingers in the air. He wouldn’t speak, like always, though he’d listen to you go on about your life even if he’s heard the same story more than once. But you don’t. Not this time. With your mind circling back toward this so-called mystery girl, you can’t even bring yourself to speak. Or enjoy your dinner. Each bite seems almost bitter, the taste of blood lingering on the tip of your tongue long after you’ve swallowed a spoonful down. It takes you more than a few minutes to realize that you’ve been biting your tongue this whole time, stewing too much in your own jealousy to pay proper attention to your meal. Hurriedly, you excuse yourself, grabbing a nearby kitchen towel to wipe at your mouth.

He doesn’t say anything as he watches you go, though you could feel his eyes on your back, eyeing your every move. You don’t have to look back to know that he wears the same expression as always. Opaque, unreadable. Far out of your reach.

-

You find him in your room after dinner. He sits on the edge of the bed, his hands on his lap, staring at something on the floor. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks like he’s deep in thought. You lean against the door, cross your arms over your chest. Taking a glance at your surroundings, just to confirm you are indeed in the right room, you clear your throat, catch his attention. “This isn’t your room,” you say stiffly, your voice flat, empty.

He looks up at the sound of your voice, eyes boring straight through yours. The blue of his eyes seems even brighter in the semi-darkness, piercing as he continues to stare at you, through you. Does he know then? Does he know that you know? Does he know how you feel about it? “I know where my room is.”

You raise an eyebrow, purse your lips together. “There’s no reason for you to be here.”

He shrugs, looks away, casts a curious glance around him. He takes it all in, at once, as if for the first time. “I came to visit.”

You frown. He’s never come to visit your room before, at least not when you’re around, and you can’t imagine why he’d want to now. Not when he has something else to keep himself busy – someone else. “I don’t see why there’s a need to.”

His voice grows quieter, nearly a whisper. Still, every word rings loud against your ears, echoes and reverberates in the hollow of your soul. “I came to check up on my wife.”

The words catch you off-guard, and for a second, your mind blanks out, unable to find the right words. He’s never referred to you as such before; you can’t confirm if he’s ever done so in front of other people, but it’s not as though you’re outside often enough to ask. And even if you are, it’s not an appropriate question. Still, that doesn’t make you any less surprised. “Your… wife?”

He nods his head, gives you a lopsided smile. You’ve only ever seen this smile of his on a handful of occasions, and it always makes you feel conflicted each time. A flutter in your heart, a knot in your stomach, a sudden jump in your pulse – things you could never quite explain how, note even to yourself. “There’s only one of her, isn’t there?”

You snort, unable to keep the bitterness out of your voice, your words. “I don’t appreciate you thinking you could fool me again, mister.”

“I see.” His voice grows quieter, softer. He lowers his head, stares at the floor. He doesn’t speak for a second, and once again, you could never quite tell what he’s thinking. “That’s why you’ve been quiet.”

You scoff, feeling your temper rise at his sudden shift in attitude. Still, you’re careful to keep your voice flat, refusing to give in to the heat of your anger, the excruciating burn of your jealousy. “I don’t think you know me as much as you claim to.”

He lifts his head, looks at you. He meets your eyes this time, and something in his gaze pins you to your spot. You’ve never seen him look at you this way before, and something about it makes you yearn for it and deny it at the same time. “I’ve watched you,” he says. His voice is calm, steady. Soothing, almost, though it only does the opposite for you. “You didn’t see me, but this afternoon, after you ate your lunch, you laid on the couch and napped for an hour.”

You shake your head, look away, crossing your arms over your chest. “You watching me like a stalker doesn’t prove you know enough about me.”

He doesn’t falter. “You take your coffee with three sugars and no less because it’s too bitter for your taste.”

He’s right, like he’d been right the previous time, and yet the same problem remains. You exhale a sigh, growing more exasperated by the second. “I don’t see what that has to do with any of this.”

His eyebrows furrow. A hint of irritation flashes in his expression, rare and quick as a lightning bolt. Frustration creeps into his voice, makes it rise just the slightest bit. “That I know you as much as I claim to.”

You shake your head, exhale another sigh, shoulders slumping in resignation. There’s no point to this argument, is there? The boundaries of your relationship had been clear from the start; you knew what you were getting into the moment you’d agreed to the marriage. “Even if you do, we’re still strangers.”

He’s quiet for a moment. Then he stands up, takes a step forward, and another, then another. Until he’s standing in front you, just barely out of reach. “Are we?”

“Yes.”

He takes another step, closes the distance between you until there’s none. “Even if I know everything about you?”

Does he? Even the thought seems almost unbelievable. Laughable, too. He has too much on his plate to bother learning everything he can about you. And even if that were true and he truly did do all of those, what difference would it make? Still, you can’t help but be curious, one eyebrow raising as you keep your eyes on him. “And what do you know about me?”

He nods, smiles. A different kind this time – tiny, a subtle twitch at the corners of his lips. One you’ve never seen before, and yet one that sends an unexplainable thrill through you. “That you’re jealous.” It’s a statement, a simple fact, one that makes your ears burn in offense.

“There’s no reason for me to be,” you snap, glaring at him. Heat rises to your cheeks, and you take a step back, attempting to mask it in the semi-darkness of the room. He follows after you, takes another step forward when you take a step back, refusing to let you maintain that distance you’ve been trying to keep. The game continues on for approximately a minute before you finally hit the wall, rendering all chances of escape null. You glare at him instead, annoyed at the look of amusement flickering in his eyes. “I know what I got myself into when I agreed to marry you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Look,” you begin, taking a step to the side, refusing to play his game any longer. He doesn’t let you, stops you before you can go any farther, placing both his hands on either side of your head, caging you in. “I’m not sure why you’re here in my room right now, but I’m not going to be your entertainment tonight just because you’re lonely and in mighty need of company.”

He looks almost surprised at your implication; you catch the widening of his eyes, the shock that flickers behind them, just briefly before it fizzles out, disappears once more. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

 “It’s not worry,” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation. Has he always been this annoying and you just never even know it? Is this a side of him you would’ve killed to know a few years back? You would’ve been certain of the answer years ago, but now you’re not so sure. Everything’s too confusing, conflicting, and you’re not sure what to think, especially not when it comes to him. “It’s called—”

“Jealousy,” he finishes for you. He gives you another small smile, and it looks smug, victorious. You’ve half the heart to wipe it off, and the other half to kiss it away. You’re not entirely sure where the thought comes from, and it makes the heat in your cheeks rise, grow warmer.

You glare at him instead. It’s easier to mask whatever embarrassment you feel with anger; it’s familiar, comfortable, and it’s something he expects. You open your mouth, try to protest, but he stops you this time, refuses to let you speak. He shakes his head, presses a finger against your lips, shuts you up. His smile grows wider, and he leans down, close enough that he could look you in the eye. This close, the blue of his eyes seems infinite. Mesmerizing, as though it would swallow you whole if you forget to look away. He removes his finger from your lips, moves to cup your cheek, cradling it in his hands. Your vision swims. Your breath steams. Your heart stops. There’s a split second where everything grows still as he touches you for the first time.

Every feeling after this is magnified. The warmth of his hands burns like liquid heat against your skin. Your flesh sings. Your bones ache. You feel like a livewire at this moment, coiled and very much alive. You fear you’ll explode, turn into sparks if he touches you any longer.

You take in a shuddered breath, lifting your head just a bit, enough to meet his gaze. When he looks into your eyes, could he tell how badly you enjoy this? How much you’ve yearned for it, subconsciously, and in secret? Whatever he finds there must not be satisfactory enough because he’s leaning even closer, just enough that his breath steams against your cheeks. He’s close enough to kiss, to touch, the way he never is for the past few years.

You could tell him to stop. You won’t be his plaything tonight, and you’ve made it clear from the start. Just because he’s the hero doesn’t mean you’d bend to his whims, even if he has you at his mercy. He traces your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, and every retaliating thought in your mind disappears, along with every half-formed protest you might have. The gentleness with which he touches you opens up a valley of desire in the pit of your stomach, hollow and greedy. It makes you lean against his touch, like a moth waiting to be burned.

He leans in, brushes his lips against yours. Tentatively, like he’s waiting to see how you’d react. Seeing as you’re not pushing him away, he leans in even more, and kisses you fully. There’s hunger with the way he kisses you, mirroring the desire that sits in the hollow of your stomach. You grab the hem of his shirt, balling it into fists as you pull him closer. He responds by cupping the back of your head and pulling you against him, kissing you more greedily.

You don’t know how long you’ve kissed, but you’re breathless by the time you’ve pulled away. Catching your breath, you give him another glare – a last show of strength, even if it’s futile in the end, especially with how putty you are now in his hands. “I’m not going to be your plaything tonight.”

He shakes his head, looking almost annoyed at your comment. “You’re not.”

He doesn’t let you protest anymore. He leans down, latches his lips on your neck, peppering kisses all over: the underside of your jaw, your pulse, the curve of your neck. Your skin singes and burns with every kiss, but he doesn’t stop there. He kisses his way down: from your collarbone to the slant on your shoulder. He runs his tongue along your skin like he’s eager to taste you, and it sends another spark of thrill through you. You let out a shuddering breath, not quite expecting that; absently, you reach up, grab hold of his hair, tugging on it just so, and it only spurs him on, feeds into his ego. Impatiently, he pops the buttons of your blouse, not caring that he’s nearly ripped it off in the process. He doesn’t apologize. Instead, he moves to kiss his way down your body: the valley of your chest, your breasts, your navel until he’s kneeling down in front of you. With your skirt in the way, he’s unable to go further. Hurriedly, he tugs it down, pulls it off your ankles, then throws it somewhere in the room.

“Hey!” you protest, but he simply ignores you. Or maybe he’s just simply too far gone to care. With you left only in your underwear, there aren’t much obstructions left. He runs his eyes up and down your form, and something in his eyes makes you want to cower and hide. There’s greed in there, mixed with something else, something you can’t quite name. Hunger, perhaps? Or maybe even desire? Either way, he doesn’t let you linger on the question much longer.

He’s much gentler this time, slower than he’d been just a while ago, when he was practically ripping your shirt and your skirt off of you. Now, it feels as though he’s got all the time in the world. He tugs at your underwear, pulls it off your ankle, no longer impatient. He takes his sweet time as he leans in and presses kisses on the inside of your thighs, each one leaving you more breathless than the last. Soft, teasing, each one a kind of agony that only makes you yearn for more. You’ve lost count after the first one, every rational thought pushed out by the impatience to feel something. You glare down at him, only to find him already watching you, his gaze glued to your face, drinking in every reaction you make. You’d have blushed if you’ve still got some semblance of dignity left somewhere in you.

“Hurry up,” you say, the words a breathless rasp as they spill out of your lips. He gives you a dark look, but he listens anyway. He inches his face closer to your bare cunt. He doesn’t give you a chance to complain this time. He buries his head between your thighs, catches the trickle of arousal spilling out of you with the tip of his tongue. Heat rises once more to your cheeks. There’s a part of you, embarrassed and shameful, that wants to run away and hide, push him off you. There’s another part that wants him closer, wants all he could offer. Right now, you’re not entirely sure which is which.

And he’s still going torturously slow. It feels intentional, mocking. He moves with the patience of a saint, all his earlier impatience forgotten in a flash. You hate it, but you can’t bring yourself to speak when he blows against your cunt, making your mind blank out. “Link,” you say, your voice thick and raspy. You’ve never imagined you’ll call for him like this – a mix of desire and desperation, and it’s so unlike yourself that you’d have laughed if you hadn’t been

You glare down at him once more, and you could almost swear that he gives you a smug smirk in response. He doesn’t let you dwell on it any further; he dives back in, surprises you this time, delving his tongue deep into you. A shudder leaves you, and your eyes flutter shut, your head hitting against the wall behind you. You could barely register the pain; there’s a dull throb in your head, but all is quickly lost in the sea of pleasure that surrounds you.

You tug a fistful of his hair, hard enough that it’s sure to hurt, and he responds by burying his tongue deeper, lapping you up like a man starved. Every part of you feels hot, every nerve ending alight and on fire. You should tell him to stop, but your body aches for more. Your hips buck, involuntarily, against him, and he lifts one of your legs to rest it upon his shoulder. He places his hands on either side of your thighs, keeps you in place as he furthers his assault, delving into you over and over until he rounds in on that spot that has your legs shaking, the entirety of your body overwhelmed with feeling. “T-there!”

He doesn’t stop. Eager to discover what’s made you tick, he only grows rougher, hungrier, zeroes in on that spot over and over until your mind is spent with pleasure. Your stomach tightens, coils. Everything’s too much, too sudden, and everything in you breaks at once. With a sharp cry, you fall apart, limbs shaking, legs trembling. He’s there to catch you, keeps his arms around you as he holds you steady against him, his tongue ready and waiting to catch every drop that spills out of you, his throat bobbing with each swallow.

And then it’s over, and he’s leaning back, wiping his mouth the back of his hand. You stare at him dazedly, too busy trying to catch your breath to pay him proper attention. You could barely find it in yourself to move. Every part of you feels paralyzed. Your chest rises and falls. Your mind is still empty of any thought; distractedly, you watch him as he picks himself back up, stands up so that he’s in front of you again. You swallow the lump in your throat, lick the dryness off your lips as you find the right words. Nothing comes. All that spills out of you is a breathless noise that falls somewhere between a croak and a whimper, nothing that resembles anything coherent.

He doesn’t speak either. Instead, he leans in, presses his forehead against yours, cups your face in his hands once more. You’re just about to ask him a question before he’s kissing you once more, soft and slow, coaxing. Like he’s trying to apologize. Or maybe he’s tempting you to follow his lead. You’re not sure which is which, but he’s convinced you anyhow, and so you lean in, and kiss him back.

[witchygagirlwrites]

Broken Bonds-Part 15

Former(ish) Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader, BabyDaddy! Jay Halstead x Reader

While Jay is still out on vacation time after you gave birth your emotions and hormones are all over the place. You're trying to find a new normal, line up a daycare for Addy and get back into the gym all the while fighting what's growing in your own heart

Was it weird that you weren’t with the father of your child yet he hadn’t really left your side in months? You were fairly certain it was weird that even though you’d given birth to said child and circumstances could change you were terrified of not having his presence nearby because you’d grown so used to him being right there.

For the first week of Addy’s life you’d barely wanted to leave your apartment and hadn’t allowed anyone but Stella to cross the threshold outside of you and Jay. He’d stayed right there, only leaving when Stella was over and even then it was just long enough to do laundry at his place. You were beginning to worry about the price of his rent versus how much he was actually using his place.

The sudden rush of emotions and hormones after birth was killing you also. Dr Asher assured it was normal so once the first week passed you started easing your way back into the gym. Not only to relieve stress and work off some of that pent up energy but also to start getting back into shape for the job. You missed boxing. 

Jay always came with you, which proved to be more of a challenge than anything. It was distracting a bit when he was walking around the gym with Addy in a baby sling, talking quietly to her or feeding her. You told yourself he was being supportive and also acknowledging that you simply weren’t quite to the point of wanting her out of your eyesight which you weren’t.  It wasn’t his fault that your head was a jumbled mess.

You heard Stella come in the door and talk to Jay and Addy before heading your way where you were working at a heavy bag. “Baby girl. Are you supposed to be going that heavy this soon?” she asked and you looked over your shoulder at her “Doc said just listen to my body and I’ll be fine” she nodded “Ok then. I see my niece is doing amazing” you grinned, pushing hair that had fallen down out of your face “Of course. She has amazing parents”

“That is true. Are you two going to check out the daycare where Chloe works?” you and Jay had an appointment the following day to go and do a walk through and meet everyone but from running a background check on employees, owners and all other parents you had a fairly good feeling about it. You nodded “We’re going tomorrow” 

“Have you talked to him yet about the whole staying at your place thing?” she asked, cutting her eyes over at Jay. You followed her line of sight and smiled when you saw him and Kelly gushing over Addy “No” she looked back at you “Bad timing or simply because you don’t want to?” 

You opened your mouth to protest that of course it was just bad timing. You knew you had to talk to Jay. You both had to get used to being alone again, with and without Addy. He wasn’t your husband, hell he wasn’t your boyfriend. You were just his child’s mother and a friend. The two of you never should’ve been sharing a bed while you were pregnant and he shouldn’t have been sleeping on your couch for the last week but the idea of Jay not being there terrified you and the fact of it terrifying you terrified you. 

At the look on your face she grimaced “Do we need to talk later?” you sighed, looking at Jay again “Stel, I don’t know if you can get your hands on a ladder deep enough to get me out of this hole” she shook her head “Of course I can. If you need me, call me” then kissed your cheek and called across the gym “Get her home Halstead! She needs a shower and a nap”

“Which one?” Jay asked with a smirk and Stella laughed “Both of my girls”  Jay grinned “Yes ma’am”

You got out of the shower and could hear Jay’s voice over the baby monitor where he was talking to Addy. That wasn’t anything new. He’d been talking to her since she started moving in the womb. You walked out of the bathroom and heard him tell her “You’re the absolute best part of me” and felt a smile slip onto your face. 

You walked out of your room into the living room and saw him standing in her room, right over her crib. He was leaning down just enough he could trace patterns on her stomach like he used to do on yours while she was still in it. “She asleep?” you whispered and he nodded. You stepped back out of the room and he followed you, not quite closing the door behind himself.

You turned around to face him and hadn’t realized he was quite that close. Your hands flew up to brace yourself on his chest and his hands went to your waist to keep you from stumbling. “Thanks” you mumbled and he smirked “Anytime” his eyes flickered from yours down to your lips then back up before he let his hands drop from your waist and cleared his throat “How are you feeling now that you’re able to get back in the gym?”

You knew Jay was worrying about your mental health. He’d taken special care when researching postpartum depression to ensure he didn’t miss any warning signs. You nodded “I’m good. I am” he smiled “Ok, just know you can tell me if you aren’t” “I know I can Jay. By this point there isn’t a lot I feel like I couldn’t tell you” his smile deepend “Good”

Times like this it was hard reminding yourself he was just Adeline’s father. These emotions, these feelings. They were the love you had for him as your partner, friend and daughter’s father. No matter how fast your heart started beating lately when he kissed your temple or how it stopped you in your tracks some mornings if you came out looking for coffee to find him shirtless in your kitchen.

You knew you still loved Mouse, how you’d felt when he called four days after you had Addy to talk to you was proof of that. That love never wavered in your mind or heart which made these feelings that were starting to pop up towards Jay even more confusing. It was just the rush of everything after giving birth. It would even out as your body healed, right?

You hadn’t realized you’d gone silent until Jay bought one hand up to gently cup the side of your face, staring in your eyes as he did so. “Are you sure you’re ok?” you swallowed hard then nodded “I’m good, I’m um I’m gonna go to bed” he smiled and leaned forward to press a kiss to your head “Goodnight, see ya for midnight feedings” you laughed lightly “I’ll be the one with the baby on me” “The gorgeous one with the beautiful baby that looks like her? Yeah, don’t think I’d miss you two” he teased with a wink.

“Night Jay” you whispered then retreated to your room. You just needed to catch your breath. The last week or so had just been insane, birth was a lot on your body.  

You grabbed your phone and sent Stella a text: Got that ladder yet? She texted back Ready & waiting you laughed lightly Our meeting at the daycare is a 10. Can you do lunch? She quickly texted back You got it babe you let out a breath and tossed your phone onto the bed. Damn here you were missing your job. At least Voight was just a pain in the ass.

You were dressing Addy for the cold Chicago weather while Jay got the truck warmed up. She was wearing an adorable little long sleeved outfit Kevin had gotten her complete with a bow headband to match. She grabbed your pinkie and cooed which pulled a smile to your face. No matter the chaos, it was worth it. She was worth it. “What would I do without you love?” you whispered and she cooed a little louder about the time the door opened and you felt a rush of cool wind whip across the living room before Jay’s voice followed “Please tell me you and her are bundled up because it is cold”

You laughed lightly “Shoot Addy, guess the sundresses are a no?” he walked around the corner shaking his head “Funny, I’m just making sure you know how cold it is” you nodded “It’s the last part of February, first part of March in Chicago Jay. I’ve lived here my whole life. I know how the weather gets. Grab me the carrier cover so I can zip it over her”

He passed you the cover then eyed the coat you were wearing. “You need a thicker coat” you raised an eyebrow “This is plenty thick enough” “It's really cold” he argued and you laughed “This coat is fine Jay. Get your daughter ready and let's roll” 

________________

Jay parked his truck in the designated area for parents and cut his eyes at you “Do we really gotta do this?” you nodded “Considering you go back to work in a couple days and I go back in a few weeks, I’d say yes. It’s the top daycare around. Everyone has good background checks. Close enough to the precinct and fifty one it wouldn’t take us or Stella long to get to her plus Chloe Cruz works here as the supervisor”

He nodded slowly “I know, I know but baby..she’s so little” you laughed lightly “She won’t start until she’s six weeks old. That’s a normal start time for a child with two working parents”  “Ok” he finally agreed then killed the engine. He grabbed her carrier out then walked out to meet you by the passenger side door. He held her between the two of you, so you and her were closest to the building and he was closest to the road as you walked inside.

The receptionist was a twenty six year old woman named Marlene Jacobs who had a child in the daycare herself. Her husband Donald Jacobs was a marine that was currently deployed. They both had clean records and from what you could tell they had a fairly happy marriage,ok maybe Mouse had taught you a little too much.

She stood when she saw the two of you “Detective Kidd? Detective Halstead?” you nodded with a smile “Yes ma’am” she looked towards the carrier “And this must be Adeline” Jay smiled “Yes it is” she looked between the two of you “Well we’ll do the walk through. You’ll meet with the supervisor which I believe you know, Mrs Cruz?” You laughed “Yes, we know Chloe” Marlene laughed “Even better. If you choose to accept the spot, you’ll just need to fill out to paperwork and choose a start date”

You cut your eyes at Jay and he nodded “Lead the way” you told her with a smile. She offered to let you leave Addy’s carrier at her desk so Jay carried her in his arms and slipped his hand into yours as he followed Marlene through the hall to Chloe’s office. You felt him squeeze your hand gently so you whispered “She’ll be fine” a small smile slipped onto his face at your assurance.

______________

“So..let me hear it” you and Jay were back in his truck, Addy was in her carrier fast asleep and the two of you were headed to meet Kelly and Stella for lunch. Stella’s idea was to bring Kelly as a barrier for Jay so you and her could talk. He cut his eyes at you then looked back at the road, a smirk slipping onto his face “You were right” he all but mumbled. You held a hand to your ear and leaned across the console “What was that?” he laughed “You were right Y/N..like always. The daycare is a pretty good place and it’s gonna be good for Addy”

You grinned triumphantly “Just remember that so when she is a teenager and comes over to your house whining how mom is so mean you can remind her that I’m usually right” he shook his head “Yeah, I’ll remember that” 

You leaned back across the console and checked the text from Stella “Her and Kelly are gonna grab a booth” he nodded “Sounds good” you cut your eyes at him and not for the first time found yourself thinking just how good Jay looked as a dad. Even bundled up in winter clothes, you could see the chain of his st michael pendant and his eyes kept flicking up to the rearview mirror. You knew how women supposedly glowed when they became mothers, you didn’t see yourself as glowing but you’ll be damned if Jay wasn’t meant to be a dad.

One of those smiles you loved of his slipped onto his face “Ya know it’s kinda weird to stare at me while I’m driving. Turn your butt around and stare at our baby if you wanna stare at a face that looks like mine”  you shook your head “You are so full of yourself Halstead!” he cut his eyes at you and grinned “You’ve got to like me at least a little sweetheart. Adeline is proof of that” and you felt your face warm. “Damn you Jay” he laughed lightly “I’m sorry but it was too easy” you shook your head “I don’t know why I haven’t ever shot you” “Too late to consider it now” he teased.

____________

When you got to the restaurant you slid into the booth putting yourself right next to Stella and Addy between you and Jay with Kelly on the other side of Stella. “How was the daycare?” she asked and you looked at Jay with a smile so he rolled his eyes “She was right, I was wrong”

“They normally are right and we normally are wrong” Kelly laughed, looking over the menu. The two of them struck up a conversation so Stella saw that as an opening “What is going on?” she whispered and you shook your head “I gotta use the bathroom. Kel, scoot” he didn’t ask and just stood up to let Stella then you out.

Jay watched you with a curious expression so you gave him a small smile “I’ll be right back” and told him what you wanted. Stella did the same to Kelly and grabbed your arm before the two of you headed for the bathroom.

You weaved your way through the crowd and spotted the bathroom and made a beeline for it. The door was luckily unlocked and it was one of those that was just one room so you could lock the door.She turned to you the moment it was locked “Speak” you let out a huff of air “I can’t talk to him about him needing to quit staying at my house. Every time I try, he looks at me and smiles or I walk into the room and he’s talking to Addy or taking care of her in some way and the words die on my lips. I know, I know he needs to start fully staying at his place. We both have got to learn to be on our own. With and without Addy but …” you scrubbed a hand down your face “I’ve gotten used to him being there and it’s so damn selfish Stel but I don’t want to lose how safe and secure I feel when Jay is there. I know Addy is safe, I know I’m safe. I know nothing will hurt either of us with him there but at the same time if Mouse calls and he’s there I’m locking myself in my room or Addy’s room so Mouse can’t hear him by accident”

She nodded slowly “Honey, is it just that you feel safe or are you starting to develop feelings for Jay?” you felt tears spring to your eyes “I don’t know..I know for a fact that I love Mouse.I am in love with him but the idea of losing Jay…the way it hurts..Stel I don’t know if that’s just the father of my child hurt and I don’t know what to do. There’s still months until Mouse will be stateside then that’s a visit and he’s off to Georgia for eighteen weeks. I don’t want to hurt him anymore, I don’t want to hurt Jay..maybe I should just ask Jay to stop staying with me and fully focus on Addy until I go back to work then go from there?”

She wrapped both arms around you and pulled you into her arms “Honeybee, you need to stop worrying about hurting them. You’re a good mom already, you are focusing on her by showing her to have care for other people.Maybe you could present it like that to Jay? You just want to make sure you’re both used to having her by yourselves? That way maybe he doesn’t feel like you’re freezing him out again?”

You sniffled against her chest “I don’t want his life to freeze for me because I’m confused…my hormones and emotions are so far off the chart..hell I miss Voight yelling at us over this”  she laughed lightly “It’s gonna be ok. Somehow it’s gonna be ok”

____________

You followed Stella back to the table and knew Jay would notice your face the moment he looked at you. He looked up when you two got closer and his eyes narrowed. When you slid in he leaned over Addy’s carrier “What’s wrong?” you shook your head “Hormones. I’m ok. I promise” he gently grabbed your chin with one hand, ignoring the fact that you were in public and in front of your sister and brother in law as he studied your face “Talk to me, please” 

You cut your eyes at Stella to see her and Kelly were looking at the menu, acting like they weren’t looking at the two of you so you smiled slightly “Later” he held your face for  a moment later then finally nodded “Later then” Addy started moving around so you scooted over to be able to get her out of the carrier and Stella squealed lighty “My niece is awake” 

Jay automatically moved to get her a bottle and a dry diaper. You leaned up to look at Kelly who was already standing up “Thanks Kel” Stella went to stand to walk with you but this time Jay stood up “I’ll walk her Stel” you shot her a look when she thanked him then fell in step with him to the bathroom,Addy making little noises the closer he got.

You expected him to wait outside the door considering the changing table was in the women’s bathroom but when you moved to push the door open he reached over your head to hold it open for you then stepped in after you. You cut your eyes at him while you cleaned the changing table with a wipe “I could’ve done this by myself Jay” “Yeah well I’d rather do it with you. Besides I want to know why you were crying” 

You laid Adeline down and started undoing her clothes to get access to her diaper. “I’m fine Jay. It’s just extra hormones and crap finding their way out. I needed to talk and there is still a thing or two I can’t talk to you about” you felt him step up behind you as you took the wet diaper off her, wiped her down and added powder before putting a new diaper on and started to redress her “Like what? What is bothering you to the point that you were teasing me on the way here then you end up crying in the bathroom? That pretty much tells me I did something”

You ran your hand over Addy’s curls and she made a little noise which made you and him both smile  “Jay I just have a lot going on in my head but I promise you from the bottom of my heart that you have done nothing wrong.You have been nothing but amazing to me, a lot more amazing then I probably deserve and you have been an absolute dream as a father to her. There’s nothing I love more than seeing you with her. I promise if it gets to where I think I need your help with it I will tag you in partner” he nodded and leaned down to press a kiss to your temple “Keep that promise. I’m not losing you and I damn sure am not letting her lose her mom” 

You picked her up and turned to transfer her to his arms “Well right now she probably needs a bottle and her aunt Stella is dying to talk to her” a smile slipped onto his face “Well let's get back” 

When all of you started to leave the restaurant Stella hugged you and whispered “If you need anything, moral support..me to come over while you talk to him..anything call me” you nodded “Love you Stella” she smiled “Love you too” she kissed your cheek then cut her eyes at Jay “And I guess I kinda like you since you treat my sister fairly and you’re a good dad to my niece”

Jay raised both eyebrows and Kelly laughed “Take it Jay. It’s as close to a compliment as it gets. Y/N couldn’t stand me the first few months me and Stel dated. Be glad Addy is the buffer” you acted like you were offended “It’s not that I couldn’t stand you Severide, I just didn’t want anyone screwing with my sister’s emotions and it would look really bad for a detective with the CPD to murder a lieutenant with the CFD” 

Both men looked between you and Stella then Jay raised Addy’s carrier to look at her “Sweetheart daddy loves you so much and I’m so glad you’re a daddy's girl because that means Aunt Stella may maim me but won’t actually ever kill me” she winked at him “I don’t care what Y/N says Halstead, you’re smarter than you look”

You shook your head “And on that lovely note, we need to get Addy home. I’ll see you two later. Stel I love you and Kelly you have finally won your way into my heart as well” Stella hugged you once more and Kelly kissed your cheek.

_______________________

You unlocked your apartment door then moved to the side to let Jay in first since he was carrying Addy. He walked in and sat her down on the couch then moved to get her out of it. She was already making little noises and you smiled seeing her reach her tiny hands towards his face. “How did I do all the work and yet she loves you that much?” he looked up from where he was sitting with her in his arms “Don’t act like she doesn’t love her mommy too sweetheart”

You grinned “Yeah but everyone normally loves me more than you, that’s what I’m used to” he shook his head “You’re unbelievable you know that?” you laughed “I’m sorry” and pulled your jacket off, He had already slipped his off too. He watched you walk around the apartment and you knew he was probably wanting to ask again about what all was going on in your head that had led you to crying in the bathroom but you couldn’t face that, not yet.

“Jay?” you turned around and he was already looking at you “Yeah?” you scrubbed a hand across your face “Can we talk? Um, about the whole staying arrangement?” his eyebrows scrunched together for a second like they did when he was trying to figure something out “What do you mean?” you waved a hand around “Jay, how much do you pay for rent versus how much have you stayed at your place since that case with Matthew Riley?” his eyes dropped down to Addy’s small form where she’d fallen back asleep, curled up to his chest “Oh, I-I didn’t realize I overstepped sweetheart” seeing his face fall made your heart crumble in your chest, especially mixed with the way he was holding Addy, looking at her.

“No Jay, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just…we have to get used to being parents without each other. What am I supposed to do if you have to work later over the next few weeks?” he cut his eyes up “I’ll come here as soon as I get off” you smiled slightly “and what about if you want to get Addy used to your place too? I mean you have a room for her there, don’t you want her to be able to use it one day?”

“You and her are welcome in my place any time you want to go there. I don’t even have to be home” you groaned lightly at him having a comeback for everything “And what if you want to date Jay? You’re a man after all. Men have needs and you haven’t had those needs met since we made her. I don’t want to stand in the way of that and it’s not like a woman is going to be ok with you staying with your child’s mother as often as you stay here” 

He shrugged “You’re permanently a part of my life. From the moment you decided you wanted to keep her that meant there was no time you wouldn’t be in my life. If someone can’t be ok with you being in my life, they’re basically saying they’re not ok with her and I’m not dealing with that” you wiped a hand over your face and walked into the kitchen “You are freaking impossible!”

You heard him move and knew he was putting Addy down in her bassinet that he’d pulled out into the living room before he walked over behind you “What is this really about?”  you turned around to face him and took a deep breath “It’s confusing Jay, to my head. We’re not together, I know I love Mouse but you’re here and you’re so good to her and you have been so good to me and there’s so much going on inside me and I don’t can’t separate what’s me and what’s the screwed up parts from giving birth that hasn’t had time to begin to go back to the levels they’re supposed to be at and-and I am so scared of saying or doing something that may cause you or him more pain or may inadvertently hurt Addy because I’m no longer making decisions that affect just me. They affect her too and-and” you hadn’t meant to start crying but the tears started to flow down your face and Jay pulled you to his chest, wrapping both arms around you.

“It’s ok sweetheart. No matter what screwed up thing is going on in your head you’re not gonna hurt me. I can handle it, for you and her..I can handle anything and Mouse has dealt with a lot, he loves you. We can handle it better than either of us can handle thinking you’re hurting yourself to keep from hurting us. As for you hurting Addy? Baby you could never and even if a decision you made did? Her hot headed daddy is right here waiting to help fix it and her equally hot headed aunt isn’t but a phone call away” he ran a hand down your back, swaying slightly like he did when he was trying to soothe Addy. You felt your muscles loosen against him “I’m just tired Jay. I’m constantly worried I’m gonna mess our daughter up because I can’t even make decisions for myself”

He pulled back to look down at you and you half expected to see maybe a teasing look in his eyes but no there was that same look he had when he looked at Addy. Like you were one of the most important things to him “Then let me help. If it’s too much for you, throw some weight on my shoulders. You just gave birth not quite two weeks ago, everything is gonna be a little sideways still. You’ll keep at it in the gym, boxing again will make you feel better. You can start back with Dr Charles, your sessions with him always helped. If you need a night out with Stella or-or Hailey? She’d be more than glad to take you out so she could tease me about the fact that you’ve dated her and not me for the next week. Hitting the firing range helps your stress and you gotta recert anyways, we can do that to give you something to focus on. If you think we need to talk to Dr Asher about anything going on, I’ll wait in the hallway if you want while you talk to her and just be there for moral support or I’ll hold your hand. If you want to tell me right now I won’t judge you on anything. If you want me to start staying at my place more so we can get used to actually co parenting apart that’s one thing but if you’re pushing me away because you’re trying to do that thing again where you think you have to handle everything on your own? I’m not leaving you to it”

More tears slipped free of your eyes and you pushed his chest playfully “Stop being so damn good to me!” he laughed lightly “No, I’m always gonna be good to you. Even when we argue and I know we will because we always do when we’re working and as parents we won’t always see eye to eye. I will always have your back at the end of the day. No matter what” One of his hands went to your face, holding your chin while the other was at your hip, holding you steady. He held your gaze as he repeated “No matter what. Mouse could come back tomorrow and you could be with him and call and say you need me and if he doesn’t like it he better be ready to fight because I’m coming to your side” 

Your eyes flickered from his down to his lips then back up to his eyes, cursing yourself for the fact that your heart was thudding wildly in your chest when memories of what his kiss felt like flashed through your head “Do you think you’d really have to fight him?” you asked quietly and he smiled “Probably not but just wanted to make a point” his hand moved from your chin to cup the side of your face instead “I’ll go through anyone or anything that you and our baby girl needs me to. If Mouse falls in line, great he’s welcome in. You know I love him, I really do but he better know that you’re my girl just as much as Addy is and I will protect you with everything I have” 

“You know you don’t have to be this good to me to be a good father” you laughed and he smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to your right temple “Yeah but you were my partner, friend and other half long before I got you pregnant. Why should I mess that up now?” you shook your head “I love you Jay” he smiled brightly “I love you too Y/N. Now stop worrying about me or Mouse. You and Adeline are what matters the most. Get changed into something comfortable lets watch a movie then if you want me to go home I will or we can figure out a schedule to start getting you and Addy used to me not being here then we can start getting used to her being at my place some”

You nodded slowly “Ok” “Ok” he replied and hesitantly moved his hands away from your hip and face “Whatever you need from me, I’m here” you smiled “I know Jay, I know” you just needed to get through this adjustment period and get back to work then maybe you would feel normal again or at least find a new normal? Or something close to it? Then of course by the time your emotions calmed down Mouse would be stateside and a whole new tidal wave would hit you. One storm at a time.

@desimarie12 @allisonargent144 @nevaehstreater18

Part 16

[malk1ns]

december 19 @ predators, 5-4 OT win

a wee little continuation of wine, flowers, & blood.

inspired by sid's sexy massage and the various ways in which he decided to go beast mode on this four-point night, followed by this from taylor haase:

Sometimes, Sid gets bored of being an older player.

He’s let decline creep into his game over the last few years. Nothing major, not like the scoreless droughts Geno likes to put on to freak the fanbase out and get the media talking, but just enough to be realistic; a few games with bad passes, a stretch without a goal, things like that.

It’s not as fun, though. He much prefers the way the city feels when he’s overperforming on a nightly basis. His arena buzzes, almost, when he’s on top of his game, and the energy is enough to feel high on for weeks, even without a single touch.

It gets to Geno, too. A few seasons ago Geno had a hat trick, and he’d been practically catatonic by the time Sid got them home after the game; the team had been all over him in the locker room after, and between that and Sid’s own focused attention and praise, he’d overloaded a bit.

They had fun that night, once distance from the rink brought Geno back to himself a little more. Big wins like that always end the same way, with one or both of them strung-out and gagging for it.

It’s usually Geno. He’s only a demigod, after all, and he has no self-control; between the energy he picks up on his own and the conduit Sid’s given him access to, he gorges himself until he’s a whimpering mess, spreading his legs and mouthing at Sid’s neck like a whore when Sid settles on top of him. 

As fun as it is, though, Sid knows that his career is supposed to be winding down. He opted for a two-year extension over the summer simply because he wasn’t sure how long he could tolerate playing pretend.

It’s easier when he lets himself have games like this.

The collision into the boards hurt. The twinge in his neck brings back unpleasant memories from 2011 when nothing worked to heal him, not even draining the arena dry of energy; nothing until he sacrificed one of his tributes, and even then it took months. But it’s not nearly as bad this time, of course, and Sid can feel Geno’s amusement as he lets the athletic trainer rub at his neck well beyond what’s necessary to fix it.

So sue him. People like to be helpful, and far be it from Sid to deny his people what they want.

A four-point night feels good. Geno one-upped him, of course, almost throwing the game in OT before recovering to set Rusty up for the winner, but Sid doesn’t mind him having his fun, too—the negative attention hurts him more than it ever has Sid, and he gets more of it besides even when it’s wholly undeserved.

He’d almost forgotten that he ‘got hurt’ until Taylor asks him about it in the postgame.

Geno sends him a memory of what he looked like getting massaged on the bench, and Sid can’t help but smile, even though it doesn’t make any sense at all in the context of the question. “Oh yeah, I’m fine,” he says. “Just a little sore. Nothing to worry about.”

Taylor narrows her eyes at him, and Sid tucks away his smile and widens his eyes guilelessly. It works, as always, and she melts back into the scrum looking a little dazed.

Geno makes fun of him for it later that night, back at the hotel after drinks with the guys. “You look, like, dirty movie or something,” he teases, sliding his hands down Sid’s back and pulling them closer to the bed. “Eyes closed, like, you’re about to start moaning. Inappropriate for game.”

Sid scoffs, letting Geno push him onto the mattress. Geno always gets fired up in Nashville, pushy and demanding, and Sid’s happy to indulge him. “You’re the only one who probably even noticed,” he says, lifting his hips to help Geno tug his pants down. “Plus, I was sore. I needed it to play well.”

Geno curls his fingers around Sid’s dick  and squeezes, just a little too hard. Sid moans. “You take tribute during game?” he murmurs into Sid’s ear, breath warm. “It helps? Maybe I start to do, like, you think that’s fine?”

“Fuck,” Sid mutters, arching his neck to give Geno space to bite at him and picturing it.

Sid doesn’t need sex for tributes, no old gods do. Simple touch with intention is more than enough; sex is just extra, just for fun or a little something special. Geno does, though, and Sid imagines him with his face between some chick’s legs on the bench, making her squirm and gasp as he takes his fill from her, right in the middle of the game.

He’s never seen it before. Geno still needs to take his own tributes every now and then; running off Sid’s connection to the city is fine, but it’s not enough for someone with a job like theirs. He likes coming to Sid’s after, heavy-lidded and sated, and letting Sid pin him to the mattress while he describes in detail what he did to whoever he had in his bed. Sid’s never been there during, but he has a good imagination.

“Pervert,” Geno says, sliding down the mattress. “Next time I need, you come over, yeah? I put you in the chair in the corner and let you watch.”

When Geno takes Sid’s balls into his mouth and sucks, Sid practically jackknifes off the bed, the combination of Geno’s warm, wet mouth and the idea of watching Geno take someone apart like that for his own pleasure practically pushing him over the edge way too soon.

“Please,” he gasps, melting into the bed when Geno chuckles and puts his mouth to Sid’s hole.

Geno’s incredible with his tongue. Sid wants to watch him use it on someone else.

[askuhtredragnarson]

Uhtred takes a grateful sip of the tea, hoping that it will settle his stomach and get the bad taste out of his mouth. He sets the cup on the small table next to the bed, before he hunches over resting his elbows on his knees. His thoughts are still a jumbled mess thanks to ale still running through his system, but he tries to concentrate on what Finan is saying. Tries to form coherent thoughts.

“I think this all sent me reeling because of how close I came to losing you. It killed me inside being powerless to stop my uncle from hurting you, and each blow to you felt like a blow to my own gut. It’s my fault that he targeted you. Somehow he knew that hurting you would hurt me. Somehow he knew how deep our relationship is. It sent me reeling cause I love you, and I can’t live without you.” Uhtred softly says, not sure if anything he is saying makes sense. “I blame myself for it….”

Uhtred tries to think about why Finan was upset in the first place, and he’s struggling to come up with an answer. Rubbing his hands over his face, he groans at himself. It’s because I agreed with Gisela? I think…fuck, why did I say that….I know in my heart I could never let him go, no matter the cost…

He looks at Finan with worry in his eyes as he tries to muddle through his scattered mind. “You were upset cause I said Gisela was right…that I should let you go?” He feels a hitch in his throat as tears spring to his eyes. “I never meant it, you have to believe me… I just feel so much guilt for what has happened, and that I continue to hurt you.” Uhtred buries his face in his hands, ashamed for even letting the thought cross his mind. “All I want to do is protect you, to keep you safe, like you’ve done for me so many times in the past. Of course what you feel matters to me, I just have a shitty way of showing it.”

“I know Revna is important to you…she’s important to me too. I care about her and her happiness because I know how much she means to you. I find myself becoming protective of her….her and the pup, cause I know how much it would destroy you if something ever happened to her. Just like it did to me with Gisela.” Uhtred looks into Finan’s eyes. “I just don’t want her and I to be at odds with each other, if there is a chance we can work through it.” Uhtred shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have overstepped… it wasn’t my place to talk to her…”

@thedarkprinceofulaid

“Hello, Lord,” Osferth smiles. “Care to partake in some ale?”

@thebabymonk868

As Uhtred strides to the ale house, he barely glances at Osferth. “That’s the plan…”

When he walks inside he heads straight to the barmaid standing behind the bar. “I need two mugs of ale…” he says while holding up two fingers. “…and keep them coming. Oh and whatever he wants too…” Uhtred motions at Osferth.

Taking his two mugs of ale, he finds a table in a dark corner of the establishment. He sits with his back against the wall, then quickly downs one of the mugs, before reaching for the other.

He cocks an eyebrow at the look Osferth is giving him, before frowning into his mug. “Don’t ask…”

@thebabymonk868

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