#anyway. chop off all your hair in the bathroom baby

[crimeronan]

“Forcefemmed by Belos” is certainly a string of words. But also like. God he really did do that huh. Every day my desire for Luz to cathartically chop off all her hair in the bathroom rises exponentially!!!!

justice read this post and said aloud, "you are So Brave to use the term 'forcefemmed' in this context" and i was like "IF PEOPLE THINK I MEAN IT IN THE KINK SENSE THAT'S ON THEM!!!" FJDJHD

[chryblossomjjk]

distractions | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader

⇢ RATING: m/18+

⇢ WC: 1.1k

⇢ WARNINGS: cute couple content, they drop the 'l' word guys, n*pple piercings n sucking bc u know... fixation lmao, v suggestive but no actual sm*t, finger sucking lol, the love is requited :')

⇢ SUMMARY: jungkook agreed to let you do his makeup, but he can't stop getting distracted.

⇢ NOTES: ugh i missed them dearly!! will be putting out more drabbles soon, but i'm currently trying to focus on my other wip!! i haven't posted anything in so long so i wanted to share this with you guys! school n work is hectic i already feel swamped pls be patient with me :') i miss having time for a hobby lmao!! anyways, i hope you enjoy and let me know ur thoughts! love u <3 also apologize if there's any typos or weirdness, this wasn't beta'd!! if you haven't read practice yet, pls read before this!!

⇢ SERIES MASTERLIST

“Kook, look up! How many times do I have to tell you?” 

Four months into the relationship and his attention span, or lack thereof, never ceased to amaze you. With a frustrated groan, you place the pointy end of your Sailor Moon brush between your teeth before gripping his chin and turning his wandering gaze back to you. 

“Bambi, I’m looking up!” He yell-laughs, doe-eyes wide and sarcastic as they bear into you, equally frustrated. You can already see the concealer you applied just a few minutes ago creasing. Dramatically, he karate chops his tattooed arm towards the ceiling, paralleling your scantily clad frame straddling him. The sudden jump has you shifting against his crotch deliciously. Now’s not the time for fooling around, though. You’re determined to put the cute brush set Jungkook randomly gifted you a few weeks back to good use, starting with giving your sweet boyfriend a full beat. “This is up! What other direction is up?”

What an asshole. 

You pop the pink plastic out of your mouth, taking an annoyed chomp out of his annoying fingers. It's playful, of course. You mean, you’ve just got done with a whitening strip, after all…

Jungkook takes the opportunity to shove his digits further past your glossy lips, reaching down just enough to feel your throat constrict, then pulling back. He stares up at you with the cheesiest fucking grin, clearly pleased with himself.

“You’re mean,” you cough, wiping the drool at the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand.

“No you,” he counters, pinching your cheek patronizingly. “I love you, though.”

One month into the lovey-dovey phase of the relationship; that one where the initial butterflies fly away and you’re left feeling like ‘wow, maybe this is a forever sort of thing,’ and you still feel lightheaded every time Jungkook murmurs those three words.

“I love you, too,” you coo, reaching down to adjust his teddy-bear headband. Jungkook’s been growing his hair out. This was his last semester and he was determined to go out with a bang. For whatever reason, he had decided that bang was a mullet. You remember how confused you were when he showed up at your dorm at 3am, drunk off Fireball and excitement, asking you to cut his hair. You thought the request was outlandish and foolish, but you did it anyway, in your bathroom with eyebrow scissors. It came out a teeny bit crooked, and a tiny bit choppy, but Jungkook loved it, staring at his reflection with a big bunny smile and starry eyes. “But baby, this-” you tap on the headboard behind him, “-is up.”

He squints his eyes in defiance before complying. Ah, you’ve trained him well. A very good boy, indeed.

You’ve spoken, or thought, too soon, because after a few swipes of the plush bristles, a high-pitched ‘Appa!’ from your phone, leaning against your Kuromi makeup bag on the nightstand beside you, draws his dark pupils back to the cartoon. 

“That’s it,” you huff like an overwhelmed mother of three, yanking the device out of his sight. “Say goodbye to Aang. You’ve lost your Avatar: The Last Airbender privileges.” 

“C’mon, seriously?” He laughs while lunging forward, attempting to wrestle the phone out of your grasp. Giggling wildly, you toss it on the pink shag rug below you, out of his reach. The movement almost sends you toppling over. Luckily, Jungkook wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady. “Bambi, you know I’m easily distracted.”

“But you said I could do your makeup,” you pout, batting your lashes at him.

“I know, I-”

“Don’t touch!” You shriek, preventing him from rubbing his eye.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes through a chuckle, holding his hands by his head in defense. “Maybe I…” You deadpan him as his eyes scan around the room before, not so subtly, landing on your chest. Cocking his head, he tuts his tongue and grips the hem of your shirt. Shamelessly, he stuffs the nearly transparent material into your mouth, exposing your bare breasts. “There, just like that,” he whispers, warm palms grazing up your torso to cup them, thumbs grazing over your little diamond heart jewelry. You gasp at the touch. “You know, I still can’t believe you actually got ‘em’.” Neither could you, honestly, but if there was one thing Jungkook has taught you, it’s that sometimes, you need to step out of your comfort zone. Take risks. Especially when it results in the cutest little nipple piercings. “So fucking sexy…”

You feel his forming bulge poking against you. God, do you want him. But even Jungkook’s dick couldn’t derail you from the mission at hand. Raising an eyebrow, you lift up the makeup brush.

The tits really seem to keep him preoccupied. With a hand on his cheek, you feel his mouth hollowing, sucking your nipple gingerly as you lean over him and fill in his thick brows. Obviously, it’s a bit hard to focus. Every now and then, you have to tug his hair to redirect his nibbles back down to soft licks. 

“Okay,” you announce, letting the shirt fall from your candy-coated lips and sitting up, “what color?”

Out of the entire thirty-pan rainbow eyeshadow palette you’re holding up for him, he lazily points to the darkest shade in the top color. His favorite color, of course; black. You should’ve known. Your lips scrunch to the side in contemplation. Jungkook would look so yummy with a smokey eye.

So you blend and blend away with blacks, whites, and grays. Shockingly, your boyfriend manages to stay still throughout the entire process. You’re proud of him, really. He’ll definitely get rewarded afterward. And you were right, the final product is absolutely delectable. 

“Baby, your eyelashes are stunning!” You swoon. “And the smokey-eye looks so so so good with your eye shape.”

Silence.

“Jungkook?” You lean forward, gripping his shoulders and shaking softly. Nothing but the sound of faint snores reaches your ears. The little fuck fell asleep. No wonder why he’s been so good. You laugh in disbelief, picking your phone off the floor and snapping a few pictures to show him in the morning. Reaching into your drawer, you take out a couple makeup wipes and start cleaning him up. You loathe makeup wipes and only keep them for emergencies, but Jungkook looks so peaceful that you can’t bring yourself to wake him.

Next, you snuggle beside him with a spare blanket, unable to yank your comforter out from under his thick, muscular thighs. He stirs when you gently pull off his headband. “I love you…” he mumbles, still half asleep. It’s as if the emotion is so ingrained in his subconscious that they bubble to the surface, even when he’s sleepy and incoherent. 

And you feel the same exact way. 

“I love you, Jungkook. Goodnight.”

© chryblossomjjk 2023 [do not copy, translate or repost]

[jj-5656]

Sneaking Suspicions With; Tangerine (Bullet Train)

A/n: Are we proud? Two uploads in two days. This is how I procrastinate doing any homework. Could not get this idea out of my head so here we are. This is my first for Tangerine, but I just recently rewatched Bullet Train and couldn’t resist. Had to add Lemon too because it’s simply not complete without him. Also, the bit about Thomas is all true, I was obsessed with that show when I was young. Enjoy!

Summary: The one where your boyfriend attempts to build a kitchen table, and nearly slaughters your neighbor...

T/W: A LOT of cursing, some suggestive humor, mentions of violence...duh

“Bloody fuckin’ hell.” You wince as tools clatter in the kitchen. Discarding your current task of rummaging through boxes with Tangerine’s scribbled writing marked ‘bathroom’.

You’ve finally moved in to the new place after months of preparation. Having been together for 8 months, it was about time you moved in together. Tan practically lived at your old place anyway, though taking this step was intimidating for both of you. His brother had egged you on for months, desperately wanting their shared apartment as his own.

Hence why Tangerine is sat on the floor, muttering curses as he attempts to assemble your dining table.

“Tan, why won’t you let me help you?”

“I told you, I’ve got it, love. Fucking bastards,” his shoulders tense with anger as he speaks. “Can’t even make a buildable fuckin’ table. I’ll show them ‘quick and easy’ right up their fuckin’-”

“Did you even look at the directions, baby?” He furrows his brows, turning to you like you’ve grown another head. 

“Directions are for morons.” 

“Or for people with zero table assembling experience.” You mutter, fighting a grin under his tense stare. He wipes a bead of sweat from his brow, only sporting a wife pleaser and trousers in the summer heat. You internally cringe at the reminder your stubborn boyfriend intends to install the air conditioner on his own as well.

“Maybe we could ask Brian across the hall, he said he does construction for his dad part time.”

“You chopping it up with that lad already? Right git, he is.”

“He’s nice, Tan.”

“He’s a flirt, and a shit one at that.” It forces a laugh from you, Tangerine frustrated that the sound still manages to ease the tension from his muscles. 

“I’ll ring Lemon, then.” 

“I swear to Christ, if you call my muppet of a brother-” 

And that’s how Lemon ends up knocking at your door, takeout in hand and a bright smile on his face at the sight of you. 

“Hello, lovely. Call for reinforcements already?” 

There’s a distant “fuck off” from the kitchen, but you nod nonetheless, thanking him for the food and much needed company. Lemon’s rooted for your relationship even before his brother. Insisting he get your number that fateful night in that shitty club all those months ago. 

***************

You’d been sharing drinks with a group of friends when a man bumped into you, nearly knocking you over with the size of him. He’d caught you by the shoulders before you could fall, sending the drunken, clumsy patron an icy glare before surveying you for any injury. He’d clasped both his hands around one of yours, profusely muttering overly-posh, accented apologies. You were ready to cuss out whoever had been so careless before you laid eyes on him, overwhelmed with the British charm and piercing eyes. 

“Can I buy you and your friends a drink? I’ll be out of your hair after, promise.” His sincerity makes you want to request he sticks around the rest of the evening, though you shake your head. Polite commonalities ingrained in your nature. 

“Not necessary, I appreciate it.” You assure with a kind smile, ignoring your friends gawking at the pin-stripe clad gentleman. He nods, not wanting to make you any more uncomfortable as he gives your elbow a gentle squeeze in one last apology. Heading back the way he came, sitting beside another well-dressed man at the bar. What looks like a round of chastising from the raven-haired man, and the handsome stranger is waving him off, glancing over at you and taking a generous sip of his drink. 

“You did not seriously just turn Poseiden-incarnate down.” Your girlfriend finally manages to close her slacked jaw, frustrated with your shyness. 

“He was just being polite, Brooke. I didn’t want to have him buy for the whole table in obliga-” A waitress approaches before you can finish, smiling brightly at the lot of you as she sets down a round of espresso martinis. 

“The gentlemen across the bar insisted. On him, of course.” The older woman shoots you a wink, a chorus of cheers from your friends in salute to the man across the way. He sends a kind smile, tilting his own glass and looking like he hates the sudden attention. He meets your eyes for only a moment, starting up conversation with the man beside him in a silent obedience to his promise of leaving you be. 

It’s hours before you see him again, headed outside for some fresh air after spending too much time on the dance floor. You’re sober enough to hold your own, comforted in the array of bouncers nearby if needed. You’re sat on a bench just in front of the club, craving some relief from your heels. There’s a flick of a lighter beside you, a curse when it doesn’t ignite any flame. You’re searching through your clutch instantly, offering up your own light without a second thought. 

“Didn’t take you for a smoker.” You perk at the accent, trailing the extended arm to meet the man’s gaze for the third time that evening. 

“Don’t. Not cigarettes, anyway.” He smiles through the now ignited stick, quirking his head in quiet contemplation. His eyes study you, and surprisingly, it’s almost endearing. There’s no suggestive indications to his observations, like most men you’d encounter. It’s contemplative, as if he’s trying to figure out. 

“You always stare at strangers?” Your wit pleasantly surprises him, and his grin grows despite himself. 

“Apologies, love. Just taking it all in. Mind if I sit?” You nod, thanking the cold for the constant flush of your cheeks that’ll hopefully conceal the blood that rushes to them at his words. “Never got your name.” 

“Y/n, nice to meet you.” You take his extended hand for a shake, wincing at the formality of your words. 

“Tangerine, pleasure’s all mine.” He awaits the usual ‘like the fruit’ with sudden irritation, but it never comes, so he relaxes.

“That a nickname?”

“Of sorts.” You don’t pry, not interested in scaring him off just yet. If he wanted to tell, you, he would. In his mind, Tangerine thanks you profusely. Pleased to have met someone uninterested in forcing information out of him. 

“Whose your friend?” You mean the other good-looking guy beside him the entire night, who must still be inside. 

“Brother,” he corrects, not unkind. “Hoping he won’t be trollied on the way home.” Your eyes narrow, unaccustomed to the slang. Tangerine exhales a stream of smoke away from you, wetting his lips with a twinge of amusement. 

“Drunk, love. Or wasted, as you’d put it.” A laugh escapes you, thoroughly entertained with his dramatic mock of an American accent. 

“That is not how we sound.” You nudge his shoulder with your own, defensive and patriotic for likely the first time in your life. “You guys are still salty we won.” He bellows a laugh this time, and the warm sound erupts butterflies in the stomach. 

“Blokes chucked boxes of tea in the ocean in retaliation. The fuck kind of war crime is that?” 

“One that proper fucked your economy.” You attempt your own dramatic accent, curious as to why he tries so hard to fight smiling. You assume he’s usually much more stoic without the aid of alcohol and new company. 

“Bloody hell, that was awful.” He teases with no real ill-will, stubbing out his cigarette when his brother stumbles out of the building. You hear him mutter something about ‘shit timing’ as the taller man approaches, kind smile adorning his handsome features. 

“You’ve found your Edwards!” He clasps his hands together, absolutely delighted before he sits himself in between the two of you. Tangerine looks absolutely pissed, astonished when you beam brightly at his intoxicated brother. 

“Edwards?” You question despite Tangerine’s shaking head of warning. 

“Edwards.” He assures, adjusting his suit jacket as he gets comfortable. “Wise, kind...We’ve only just met, I know. But, you see, I’m great at reading people.” 

“Christ, here we fucking go again.”

“Everything I learned about people, I learned from Thomas the-” 

“Tank engine!” You finish for him, the pair shocked at your enthusiasm. “That was my favorite show when I was little!”

“You don’t say?” The man beams, looking over at his brother with an undoubted stamp of approval. 

“Swear it. Had the stuffy for years, an entire train table set too.”

“The one with the wooden tracks you could build yourself?” 

“And the magnetic crane to lift up the figurines!” The two of you are absolutely enamored, enthralled in the conversation whilst Tangerine broods opposite you. Making a mental note to shoot his beloved brother in the foot the second he gets him alone. 

“Bloody hell, I loved that set. What a coincidence!” He turns to his brother, shaking with anger. 

“Fuckin’ unbelievable.” Is all he manages, messing with the rings on his fingers to calm himself from the outright cockblock. Fuckin’ muppet. 

“Names’ Lemon. Pleasure to meet you doll, truly. A real Edward, you are.” 

“You really think so?” The alcohol ends any fight to conceal your pleased expression, glancing over at Tangerine who forces a smile at your grant of attention. 

“Know so. Brother over here’s a Gordon, don’t you think?”

“I could see that.” This time you’re the one to study said man, lip quirking when he shifts under your gaze. 

“Alright, we should get you home.” Tan rises with a roll of his shoulders, ready to head back with his head hanging low in a failed feat. Lemon frowns, pushing away the strong arm that’s pulling at him so he can dig through the inner pocket of his expensive jacket. Pulling out a folded and well-worn sheet of paper. 

“Here comes the fucking sticker book. Of course.” 

“You know I bring it everywhere. Here, love.” Lemon peels the Edward sticker from the sheet. Sticking it onto your finger with a soft ‘boop’. You gasp, delighted. 

“The lady’s real chuffed, Lemon. Let her get back to her friends for Christ’s sake.” He pulls the man to a standing position, waving down an approaching taxi with an ear-piercing whistle. “You got a friend getting you home safe, sweetheart?” You nod, pressing the new sticker to the back of your phone and pressing your case back on it. Aiming to keep it safe indefinitely. Tan suppresses a smile, finding it absolutely adorable. He buttons his jacket, straightening in self-discipline to push away the love-sick thoughts. 

“Have a good night, you two. It was nice meeting you.” There’s a hint of sadness in your tone, the farewell and the unlikeliness of running into them again tugging at your heart strings. Weird, considering you just met the two men and you already want to get to know them more. Especially the handsome fuck with the unrelenting charm. 

“Like-wise, love.” Tangerine ushers his brother into the backseat of the car, muttering something to the driver before turning on his heel to face you again. Brows taught in consideration. He battles with himself, weighing if he’s selfish enough to try and get to know someone as seemingly kind-hearted as you. You’d deserve better. He surveys you a final time, every nerve-ending in his body begging for more. You’re about to head back inside when he clears his throat, grabbing your attention.

“Any chance you’d be willing to give me your number, sweetheart? Just to make sure you get home safe?” He prays it doesn’t sound too hopeful, as desperate as he is for you to comply. You cock your head incredulously, and he swears his heart skips a beat. 

“Just to make sure I get home?”  

“And maybe to ask you to dinner. Or, you say no and I fuck off.” You chew on the inside of your cheek to suppress the excited grin. Hoping you appear nonchalant despite yourself. Taking a few steps forward, you extend your hand. Brows raising in expectation as he stares at you. He snaps out of it, digging into his pocket with a muttered ‘oh, right.’ 

“All right mate! Thought you’d never get the balls to ask her. Been going on and on about her since you nearly tackled ‘er”

“Fuck off, Lemon.” Tan seethes, eyes averting to you when you giggle through your rushed typing into his phone. “He’s drunk, pay no mind.” 

“Trollied, right?” There’s teasing heavy on your tongue, and it takes everything in him not to pull you in for a kiss right there. On the curb of some mangy club whilst the impatient driver honks in warning. 

“Right. Goodnight, love. Careful getting home, yeah?” You nod, mindlessly standing up on your tip-toes to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Night.” 

And with that, you’re headed back inside. Feeling his eyes on you the entire time. Only looking back when the door closes behind you. Ensuring he can’t see you spying. He has his head down, biting a smirk from his lips before gaining composure, tossing himself into the cab beside his brother. 

***********

“You’re not needed, I have this handled.” 

“You don’t actually. I’ve seen corpses more capable of brain activity than this, mate.” 

“Piss off.” 

“I would, but I like your girlfriend more than you, and therefore don’t want to leave her with this,” he motions to the mess of tools and table parts, “all alone.” 

The two of you sit opposite him, Lemon unfolds the discarded instruction sheet with a deep sigh. 

“You’ve got the wrong bolt on that one.”

“No I don’t.” 

“You do, mate. Considering I’m the one with the fucking instructions.” 

“See, if I was a fuckin’ mug like you, I’d need the directions. But I’m not, so I don’t.” 

“Well, you must be. Considering that’s the wrong fucking bolt.” 

You rub your temples, fighting an oncoming migraine. Taking the drill from the floor and setting it counter-clockwise to remove the damned bolt. Tan takes it from you, setting his hand on your stomach to push your criss-crossed form backward. 

“Hey!”

“What did I say? I didn’t want you doing this, Dove. You’ve just gotten those nails done. I-” He stops himself, taking a breath. “We got this covered.” 

“This seems patronizing and sexist.” 

“Quite the opposite. I respect you so much I’d rather not have you sit on the floor and do this.” 

You huff, arms crossed as you glare at him. Too worn out to argue, and figuring there’s an array of boxes to be unpacked, you scramble to your feet. 

“Fuck you.” 

“Maybe later, love. I’m quite busy at the moment.” The cheeky response gets a laugh out of even Lemon, who straightens as soon as your heated gaze snaps to him. You flip them both off, no real anger to it as you head back toward the bathroom. 

**********

Another couple hours pass and you’ve finished both bathrooms and are working on the master bedroom. Airpods in to block out the onslaught of arguments. You hum to your music, unaware of the eyes on you.

Tangerine leans against the doorway, finding comfort in watching you in your shared home. It’s weird, new, to share just about everything now. Scary, no doubt. Tan had walls around him so high it took months for you to even shake them. But you’ve done it, somehow. A little minx, he regards you, because you’ve managed to get through to him sometimes without him even realizing. He’s eternally grateful whatever scraps of good karma he had left accumulated to bring you into his life. Terrified it might one day be ripped away. Every time the thought passes his mind, his throat tightens, and he gets the overwhelming urge to hold you and never let go. 

Your startled gasp snaps him out of it, a hand clasping over your heart in shock. “Christ, Tan. Give a girl a warning.” 

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He swallows, a beat before continuing. “I love you.” Your eyes narrow at his sweet tone, trying to uncover the mischief in his sultry voice. 

“What’d you do?”

“Nothing, honest. I can’t say I love you?” 

“You can.” You turn your head from him, suppressing a smirk as you busy yourself with folding clothes. “Just...Not in the hall, okay?” 

“What? Why?”

“It’s just,” you’re holding in a laugh now, a death wish for sure. “I don’t want Brian to hear, that’s all.” He crosses his arms, hiding his clenching fists at your teasing. 

“You think that’s funny? Taking the piss like that?”  You muffle a laugh with your sleeve, morphing it into a cough. “Tread lightly, my love.” 

“You know, I bet Brian builds loads of tables. Must be real fast at it, considering he works in construction and all. Lot’s of strong men in that field of work.”

“Y/n.” Your name is rare on his lips, singed with irritation. You’re clearly well-past having him worked up, You press on, keen on getting him back for his suggestive comment from before. 

“I always wanted to get to know a blue-collar type. So hardworking, great with their hands-” You’re in the air and flopped onto the mattress yet to have a bed frame before you can even process it. He cages you in, an arm on either side of your head to support himself as his eyes bore daggers into yours. Curls unruly and dampened with sweat. 

“Stop it. Or beloved Brian’s in a body bag by tomorrow morning, yeah?” You know he’s not entirely serious, but also entirely capable, so you nod. You press your lips together, thoroughly amused. He takes your jaw in his hand and uses his thumb to pull your lips free. Tugging you into a kiss, he’s only satisfied when you gasp after your bottom lip is bit. Not too hard, he’d never hurt you, but it’s enough warning to shut you up. He gets up, hands on his hips and breathing heavy as he watches you get to your feet. Wordlessly, he sweeps a leg under yours, chuckling when you’re collapsing back into the mattress with an umph. 

“You really are a fucking Gordon, you know that?” There’s no time to scramble away from his lunging form as he tugs you by the ankle toward him. One hand grabbing your arm and the other on your leg as he hoists you over his shoulder, cheekily reminding you of the power imbalance as he carries your squirming form down the corridor and into the kitchen. Where Lemon lays sprawled out on the now standing table. The air conditioner hums across the room, and the faux argument is ripped from your mind as you survey the accomplished tasks. 

“Nothing a little teamwork and drive can’t do,” Lemon boasts. “You know where I learned that, Tangerine?”

“If you mention the fucking trains, It’ll be the last thing you fuckin’ do.”

*************

“Tan, could you pass the lo mein?” Your boyfriend chews thoughtfully, considering it for a moment before extending it to you. Your eyes narrow when he pulls away as soon as you reach. 

“Maybe you should ask Brian.” 

“My god, we’re still on this?” 

“Should have known better than to tease him with another man, love. Gordons are prone to jealousy.”

“Fuckin’ pipe it, Lems.”

“It was a joke, baby. Are you gonna hold this over my head forever?” You find it endearing, hard to believe Tangerine could think there’s even a hint of honesty to your teasing. 

“Until I’m sure you’re proper guilty, yeah.” There’s a hint of play in his tone, and you know he only wants to hear you repeat your devotion. 

“Tan, love, baby, sweetheart, love of my life, will you please pass the lo mein to your dutifully devoted girlfriend?”

“Sure thing, love. Could have just said so.” The playful banter is stuttered to a halt when Tan sets the box beside you, the legs of the newly built table creaking as they give out. With their instinctive reflexes, Lemon and Tangerine keep the entire thing from collapsing. You’re slack-jawed, in utter shock at the absurdity and slight victory of being right, as god damn usual. 

“Dove,” your boyfriend’s voice strains under the exertion, meeting your eyes “be a doll and take everything off here?” You’re up in an instant, quickly snatching the array of food and plates off the surface. Lemon begins to laugh despite himself, and Tangerine seethes with frustration. 

“Maybe we should-”

“Don’t. Don’t even think about saying that fuckin’ muppets name.” Tan stares daggers into his brothers eyes, paying no mind to your stifled giggles. When they finally set the table on the ground, you approach him. Tugging at his arms so you can wrap yours around his waist. You press your chin into his chest, running a hand through his unruly curls. 

“Baby.” You’re soft, tone so sweet and eyes big and pleading. 

“Lose the puppy eyes, doll. It’s a no.” 

“I personally would like to finish dinner not on the floor. But that’s just me.” Lemon purses his lips, brows raised expectantly at his brother.

Tan releases a deep, shaky sigh, dark gaze softening when he meets yours. He tries to tug his head away when your hands hold it, but you’re insistent, making him face you again. 

“I’m all yours, alright? I promise.” You kiss both his cheeks and then his neck, some tension leaving him. He tilts his head in faux irritation when you stick out your pinky to him, grinning when he finally gives in and wraps his much bigger one around yours. 

**********

“It’s already so nicely decorated in here.” Brian surveys the room with a polite smile, turning to you. “All this is your eye, y/n?” You straighten, hoping the man won’t notice your boyfriend’s homicidal stare. 

“Tan has more taste, admittedly.” You’re not just trying to take the attention off you, it’s the truth. 

���Well that should be obvious, he got you.” Lemon coughs, setting a hand on his brother’s shoulder with tight, grounding grip. The slightly shorter man boils beside him, eyes boring into yours in an enraged ‘I told you so’. 

Your neighbor places his work bag on the floor, cringing at the sight of the flattened table. He approaches the brothers, clueless, patting their arms with sympathy. 

“Should have gotten me earlier, guys. You know you can call me over any time for some help. Handiwork isn’t for everyone, some things are just left for the professionals. 

“No kidding.” Tan mutters, letting Lemon pry his fingers from the biggest kitchen knife you own when the man’s back is turned to them. 

“We’ll have to grab brunch sometime, y/n.” He’s blissfully unaware as he talks between rounds of the drill. Unscrewing mistakes and penciling out where they should actually go. “I’ll fill you in on the rest of the neighbors. Some of the ones to avoid and all.” Lemon’s practically wrapped around his brother, praying to a god he doesn’t believe that the clueless fuck will shut up. You cross the room while he drills away, placing your hands on Tan’s chest and pressing into him. He can’t even see you, can’t even feel you as his blood burns his own skin. Considering the fasted method of kill and cleanup over and over again in a final stitch to calm himself. 

“You’ll have meet Cody first, of course. I’ve already told him there’s finally another young couple in the building. Thank god.” 

“S-Sorry, mate?” Lemon loosens his grip in realization, fighting a bellowing laugh. 

“My bad, I tend to drill when I’m talking. Cody gets on me for that, too, This is what I mean, sweetheart. We need to escape the doting boyfriends for a little. Enough to drive anyone nuts.” He shoots you another smile, pleased to see you nodding profusely. 

“Absolutely.” You turn to Tan, whose brows are taught in utter confusion. “They can be a real pain sometimes.”

“But, alas.” The drill whirs, he stops talking for a beat and then releases the trigger to finish. “We love them.”

“To bits and pieces.” 

Tan collapses against the counter, right exhausted from the strain of keeping his composure. Pure relief washes over him, and you let him pull you into an embrace.

“Boys, would you mind helping me turn this right side up? i think I’m all finished here.” They comply, Tan reluctantly pulling away and kissing your temple in silent apology. Together, they set it upright and each give it a good shake to ensure it’s stability. 

“Thanks, mate. I owe you.” Your boyfriend gives the now beloved neighbor a firm shake, a hint of guilt in his eyes. 

“British and handsome, you two are truly a killer pair.” Brian gathers his things and checks a notification ding on his phone. Sighing fondly. “Speak of the devil.” He waves his phone to you with a lighthearted roll of his eyes. “See you all soon.” Giving you a quick hug, he exits as soon as he came.

“Most definitely not a diesel, that bloke.” 

[belugamenace]

One Piece - Excerpt from Fic in Progress - Zoro/Sanji

Where Sanji was once a promising figure skater, and Zoro is the guy who moves next door.

rating - explicit

tags - angst, hurt/comfort, modern au, ableist language from character, internalized ableism, injury, chronic pain, violence, miscommunication, pining, from something awkward to lovers, past child abuse, happy ending, slow burn, tags to be added

—

Sanji tried to act like his back didn’t bother him- that it was just an inconvenient injury now passed, long gone- like his ice skates and the bitter bite of winter. But sometimes his lower back ached after sitting or standing for too long, or his spine felt like it was on fire and woke him up in the middle of the night, or his muscles would tense or spasm at any time without reason, and he had to convince himself it was nothing. “I just slept wrong.” He would tell himself. “I just pulled a muscle.”

Almost a year ago, Sanji had an accident on the ice. Sanji, pro figure skater, silver medalist for his country in last year’s World Figure Skating Championship, the man projected to be a top contender for gold next year, if he really tried.

Now, he wasn’t even an option. Too much had happened. It was too chaotic, too difficult to process. He couldn’t even go on the ice anymore, not professionally, not physically, and especially not emotionally. He could never go back out there, and it broke him. It wasn’t even his fault.

He caught a glimpse of the scar in the mirror. The long scar that tore down his back in a jagged line, from the nape of his neck to his pelvis like a bolt of ugly lightning to a tree.

He could act like he didn’t see it, but then he would get in the shower. He would lather soap on his back, and the tips of his fingers would brush over the rough tissue, so different from the rest of him, and he couldn’t forget, not then. Sometimes, when his mind wandered, he would push on the scar wherever he could. His nerves would spark with pain, but he gritted his teeth and bore it- it was nothing like the pain he experienced that day. And because the pain then was so much worse, he could at least take this much now.

Eventually he would relent, giving up against the pressure of his own hand. The way the pain fizzled up and fired through all of the nerves in his back made his whole body jerk forward, made him sick. And once again, for another day, he would be weak. A coward. A baby. A fool for thinking he could ignore his life changing injury. An idiot for thinking he would ever go back to how he used to be.

He did it again. The mind wandering. He gripped the bathroom countertop, waiting for the sharp bursts of pain to subside. Eventually, the stabbing, prickling sensations dampened into a dull ache, not as intense but not quite gone.

He stood straight (or as straight as his spine would allow), threaded his fingers through his blonde hair, hopped in the shower, and didn’t so much as get clean as he used the shower in the morning to wake up. He sighed into the cold water that hit his face and then frowned as it made his bones ache. He felt like an old man, and he was only 22. He spun the shower nozzle until the water began letting off steam.

When he got out, he simply put back on the pajamas he was wearing. He hardly moved around anywhere anyways. Not like he was sweating. He paused and looked at himself in the mirror.

Dark circles enveloped his under eyes. He didn’t think his eyes looked blue anymore- or maybe they were, just darker, like a shadowy gray storm-cloud before the sun truly sets. Could eye color change in your early twenties? Or did he just hold himself different, the light no longer catching on his irises like they used to? He thought his cheeks looked hollow, and he brought a hand up to inspect his face. His fingers touched a scruffy beard and mustache. When was the last time he shaved? He shrugged.

Everything was fine.

Zeff was in the kitchen, chopping onions unfazed. Sanji thought he didn’t have tear ducts. He’d never seen the man cry- not for sadness and definitely not for onions. Not even when he almost died. He had just been really angry then- not at him, but at the situation. Zeff didn’t like things he couldn’t control.

Sanji slid past the older man and reached for the cupboard.

“Breakfast soon.” Zeff grunted, not looking up from his knife. He was mincing garlic now.

“Okay.” Sanji nodded, grabbing a mug from the cabinet and placing it under their coffee machine. He popped a pod into the top, pushed the lever down and pressed the drip button. The machine whirred to life and a glorious stream of liquid goodness descended into the mug. It stopped the whirring and the dripping and shut off automatically, signaling for Sanji to pick up his reward. Zeff scoffed.

“What?” Sanji sipped at his coffee, choosing to bite. Zeff was annoyed at something. It was probably stupid- like how he would get mad over how Sanji chose to cut potatoes. He walked past Zeff and to the kitchen table. He leaned slightly to put the mug down.

“You used to be proud to grind your own coffee grounds. Now you’re just lazy and okay with drinking that crap in a pod.”

Sanji felt indignant, a heat rumbling in his chest. He felt… frantic… defensive, like he should retort back to protect his dignity.

He used to grind his own coffee, physically, with a stupid little hand-wound coffee grinder that his hands could no longer grasp onto.

“Grinding my own coffee is a little harder now, considering,” He gestured to his own body. “I’m a fucking cripple.”

Zeff stopped his knife and looked at Sanji, eyes squinting. He stood there, just standing and staring for a little bit. “You need to go out more. You look like shit.”

Sanji rolled his eyes and turned back to his coffee. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” He didn’t want to go out. He didn’t want to go out and be pitied or fawned over. His hands got clammy at the thought of someone recognizing him. He didn’t think he could stand it if someone talked to him about figure skating, or worse, that day.

It happened once, when he went to a park 8 weeks after his surgery, and was sitting at a park bench while Zeff walked to get him a warm cup of tea. A woman walked up and stood over him, asking him if he was the Sanji Vinsmoke. He could barely lift his head to look at her. Shame washed over his skin. “Y-yes.” He had stuttered out. Instantly, her eyes got darker, not with malice or anger but with pity. Sanji hated it. “I’m so sorry about what happened to you.” She had said. “It’s such a shame they let that man get so close to you.”

He lowered his gaze, looking at the woman’s shoes, shiny little kitten heels which sunk in the dead winter grass. He looked at his shoes, which were stupid and ugly but Zeff said that they were good for his back. Something about extra support in the soles or some shit. He missed his dress shoes.

Sanji got lost in the ground, his ugly shoes and the dirt, until he noticed the woman was no longer there. Her shoes were replaced with a grumbling Zeff. “Some people have no manners.” He grunted as he sat down. He handed Sanji his tea. Sanji looked up and around. The woman was gone. He looked to Zeff, who got himself a coffee and was sipping at it with a look of disdain dripping from his face.

Sanji took his coffee and walked to the living room and sat down, uninterested in the conversation. He didn’t want to go out.

“I’m serious!” Zeff called from around the corner. “You need sun and exercise. Just sitting all day isn’t good for you, even if you think you’re healed as much as can be.”

“Zeff, I’m really not in the mood to have this conversation.” Sanji closed his eyes and held his coffee close.

“How about this,” Zeff said. Sanji heard the click of the stove being turned off and Zeff’s footsteps from around the corner. “Come with me later to the new neighbor’s house.”

Sanji opened his eyes and looked at the old man, confused. “Why?”

“Because you’re sad and lonely and need to meet people. I think he’s a firefighter or some shit.”

Sanji leaned back and closed his eyes again. No way was he going out today.

—

well, here’s an excerpt from a fic i’m working on for zoro and sanji! it’s not up on ao3 yet, but it will be soon :) i hope people like it

[strawbearisamu]

dialogues: cutting his hair

timeskip! husband! miya atsumu, kuroo tetsurō & sakusa kiyoomi x gn! reader

summary: you may be criminally a little incompetent at cutting your husband’s hair

note: this is mostly dialogue! also slight mentions of the office characters in atsumu's

miya atsumu

"are you sure you know what you're doin'?" he pursed his lips .

"tsumu, honey, i'm basically a professional." you peered down at him, patting his head.

"well at least i’ll be able to try out some of the new hats i bought," he mumbled.

“hey! you would think my husband would have a little faith in his life partner?" you playfully nudged his arm.

"ouch, fine. but if this doesn't go well we're not doing night smooches anymore."

"and we're gonna pretend those smooches aren't for you now?" you scoffed and atsumu huffed in indignation.

the mirror conveniently placed directly across the two of you, you tried a few ways of styling his hair.

"it's my usual undercut sweetie, it doesn't need much thought" he said desperately hoping his words would cut through any "ideas" you might've been having.

"maybe we can try a mullet." you said to yourself completely ignoring him.

"BABE NEVER, you won't do that to me, right?" you felt a death grip on your forearm, atsumu pouting up at you like a little puppy.

"i would never tsumu, your hair's not long enough for that anyway," you tugged his cheek as he sighed in relief.

"hmm...i'll tell you what, how about the jim?" you stand back, trying to envision it.

"oo that sounds fancy, what's that?" he cocks his head at your reflection.

"you know, from the office."

"BABE WHY DO YOU HATE ME. i'm gonna be all ugly then, and you're gonna leave me!"

"you're ugly now and i'm still with you." you joked cheekily, atsumu missing the humour completely as his face contorts into one of pure horror. "calm down tsumu, i was only joking, you're terrifyingly handsome okay?"

he gave you a pouty nod.

"okay but i have to say it...the dwight?"

"BABE, just a simple undercut," he pleaded.

"but it could be hot though," atsumu sighed, it was gonna be a long night.

kuroo tetsurō

"tsurō," you whined, eyeing his hair and whatever shape it was supposed to be, "i have no idea how to even begin."

"babe you'll do fine just make it shorter."

"the brilliant tetsurō strikes again,” you rolled your eyes, “your hair is honestly rocking but i cannot even fathom how your usual guy approaches this...this bird's nest."

"excuse me? honey did you just call my hair a bird's nest?"

"in the best, most loving way possible tsurō." you gave him a little kiss on his temple.

"this is my everest, i was born for the sole purpose of taking this on,” 20 minutes later you’re still trying to decipher the puzzle that was kuroo’s hair.

"babe you're being dramatic... NO oh my god y/n, that's not how you do it," kuroo frantically stopping you as you tried to chop a good 3/4 of his bangs off.

a wave of relief washing over him as he strokes his bangs, "almost lost you buddy, don't worry. i got you."

"who's being dramatic now tsurō," you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you begin searching your little bag. "aha!" an unsettlingly wide grin gracing your face as you pull out the special tool you got just for this occasion. excitedly, you turn on the electric razor right next to his ear, the roaring sound of the razor echoing the bathroom.

"OH MY GOD," he frantically leaned backward, raising his hands in submission, "babe you are a literal hazard."

"c'mon tsurō don't be such a baby, you love me don't you?" you pout turning off the razor.

"of course babe." his expression softens, thumbs brushing small circles on your cheek.

"you trust me don't you?"

"intrinsically." he smiles, putting a hand on his heart.

"alright then," with a flip of the switch the razor came roaring back to life. kuroo gulped, closing his eyes before uttering, "do you worst," if he’s going to go down, he was going down a dauntless soldier.

---

"BABE WHY IS THERE A BALD SPOT

sakusa kiyoomi

all 6'4 of sakusa was squeezed into your little bathtub, squirming a little under your gaze, hands resting on his knees, eyebrows furrowed, a slight pout gracing his features.

you couldn't help but giggle at the sight of your adorable husband, smushing his cheeks between your palms as he glared at you. "you're so cute omi."

"i'm not." he mutters, the flush in his cheeks giving him away too easily.

"mhmm, so how do i start..." you fingered his curls, getting a little lost in the task as you fluffed and ruffled them, flipping them from side to side, switching up the angles, buying yourself time to play with his hair.

"are you just playing with my hair now," kiyoomi said a little amused as he watched you pace around him.

"no way," you chuckled as he rolled his eyes, smiling at you nevertheless.

"now don't move," you said, snipping the air twice with your trusty craft scissors. "lets get to work."

"WHY ARE YOU USING CRAFT SCISSORS."

---

"there! all done and it’s not half bad."

"it could be...good?” kiyoomi eyed himself, “thanks babe,” he kissed you on the nose before trying to get up.

"WAIT,” you push his shoulders back down, “don't move, it’s time to wash the hair kiyoomi. hey! don't snarl at me now...you’re not a cat!"

sol's comments: ngl i cut my bangs w craft scissors too

click me for the masterlist :)

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

Sugar daddy Jeonghan railing you in the bathrooms of an event just because he’s jealous of how others are looking at you 😵‍💫🥴

I'm not even a jjongjjongir, but getting railed by this Jeonghan?? sign me tf up👉😩👈

Jeonghan was the one who suggested that you should accompany him to tonight's business event. To be honest, you were very reluctant at first, because you would feel so out of place among all these rich ass people with their expensive looking partners. The thought alone made your gut churn in an unpleasant way.

"You don't have to worry about anything, sweetheart, I'll take care of everything. Besides, you're smarter than half of these trust-fund assholes anyways", he reassures you, "And you'll get an extra reward if you behave like a good girl", he smirks and you bite your lip, thinking about the choices presented to you.

"Okay, do you promise you won't leave me alone? I really don't want people coming to me out of nowhere and expose you by mistake", you ask him hesitantly and he chuckles, pressing a kiss on your cheek.

"I promise, sweetheart. Now this won't go to waste", he hands you over a hefty box, neatly tied with a champagne satin bow. You look at him once and untie the bow slowly, you open the box and a surprised gasp escapes your lips, as your eyes fall on a stunning off-shoulder royal blue velvet dress, with a thigh-high slit on its left side.

"Jeonghan, this is...", "This is the dress you're wearing tonight, and you better hurry up, because we have to be there in approximately...one hour. Chop chop, sweetheart", he ushers you and you scramble to get dressed, put makeup and style your hair in a formal way.

One hour later, you're already seated in your table right next to Jeonghan, who's trying to keep himself entertained with his fellow businessmen, talking about economics and all that stuff that bring you a headache - it was enough to make you realise how much you hated economics, hence why you chose to major in science instead. One of your best life decisions, that and becoming Jeonghan's sugar baby.

You were mindlessly looking around you, when your gaze fell on one of the businessmen sitting right across you, who hadn't taken off his eyes from you for the past ten minutes. You turn your eyes away and spot another table full of people looking at you, nonstop chattering.

"It seems you've caught their attention, sweetheart", Jeonghan leans in your ear. "Yeah, and I have no idea why", you reply nonchalantly. "I think I have an idea", you feel him smirk in your ear and pats your thigh to follow him.

He guides you by your wrist into the restrooms and almost kicks the door shut, before bending you over the pristine marble counter. He rips your flimsy panties off, the mesh fabric snapping against your skin, as he flips your dress aside, revealing your ass. He haphazardly unbuttons his suit pants, just enough to take out his cock.

"All these people looking at you, thinking they could have you", he grits his teeth as he slams his cock in your pussy, a wanton moan escaping your lips. "Too bad you're mine. Mine to touch, to fuck, to have fun with", he groans as he pounds you to oblivion, his shaft pumping in and out of your already wet hole. You try to cover your mouth with your hand, not wanting to draw unwanted attention, but Jeonghan is fast enough to pull your arm back. He snakes his free arm around your neck, pulling you flush to his chest, the slight pressure he puts on your throat making you lightheaded, your lips now parted wide enough for your lewd sounds to bounce off the walls of the restrooms.

"Don't silence your pretty mouth, sweetheart. Let everyone know who's the one fucking you this good, let them hear your pretty moans".

[reusedtrashcan]

Jschlatt x reader: Love Game

ALRIGHTY!!! Finally, i have moved my smut from Wattpad to here. if you still use wattpad (i dont cause im an adult now,) you can follow me @reusedtrashcan!

I'm a trans boy, so the reader in this is trans but hasn't transitioned yet. I really want to, but I'm terrified to get it. Anyways, have a boy with titties and a VV.

  !SMUT!

"Y/N, ITS 9AM, CALM DOWN!" my lover, Johnathan Schlatt, shouts from the other room. I giggle quietly as I whisper to my twitch chat.

"I think I woke the bear up... I'll be riight back!" I stand up from my black and white gaming chair, making my way to mine and Schlatt's room, our orange tabby named Jambo following close behind me. I slowly open our door and peak in, seeing my king facing away from the door. I hold back a giggle as I see his medium length brown hair sticking up in tufts. Jambo wanders in, jumping on the bed and laying by his fathers feet.I walk over to the bed, climbing next to him, my 5'6" body body tiny compared to his 6'3" figure. I wrap my arm around his waist and set my head on his arm. "Johnny, I'm lonely... Come stream with me..." I whisper in his ear as I rub his chest and stomach. He groans, rolling over and throwing one arm over my waist, the other traveling up to play with my short blue hair. "Why not cuddle with me instead?" he mumbles tiredly, his morning voice deep and gravely. I giggle. "Because, I'm busy doing my job and streaming for 16k people who are waiting for me to return right now." I whisper sweetly, cupping his face, my hand resting on his 'mutton chop'. I lean forward and kiss him on the nose before standing up and straightening my 'Unus Annus' hoodie. He flips on his back and stretches before placing his hands behind his head, watching me as I fix myself in our full body mirror. "Whatcha' looking at, Punk?" I ask, faking an attitude. He laughs, standing up and walking over to me. He places his large hands on my hips, leaning close to my ear." I was admiring what's ~mine~." he whispers as one of his hands slides to my ass, squeezing it, making me gasp. He turns around and walks to our closet."I'll be out in a minute. Don't miss me too much..." he hums as I turn around, heading out of our room, a blushing mess. I walk back into the streaming room, looking directly at the camera before checking the chat. They are all asking where Johnathan is. "Schlatt will be here soon, he's getting ready so he looks like a pretty princess.'' I say laughing as I stand up straight. "What?" I hear him ask from behind me before I feel him wrap his arms around me, leaning down to bury his face in my neck. "Nothing Love..." I say as I smile, placing my hand on his head. He stands up, looking at my chat, who is spamming my 'AW POG' emote. He laughs before leaving the room again, probably to grab food or something.

~TIME SKIP~ Sighing as I end my stream, I sit back, feeling a presence behind me. I look up to see Johnathan looking down at me, smirking. He pokes my forehead, looking further down me before I realize why. I quickly pull my hoodie up a bit before giggling. He sighs and moves his attention to my computer screen, watching as I put my favorite playlist on. "How to Save a Life" by The Fray starts playing as Schlatt walks around the chair, picking up my small body and sitting down, setting me on his lap. I lean my head into his chest, enjoying the moment. After about 20 minutes of just sitting there listening to music and cuddling, he finally speaks as I wiggle down further into his crotch, trying to get comfortable. "Y/N..." he says, I shift again, which made him groan. "Y/N, stop moving." I gasp a bit as I realize what I did. I quickly try to hop up, but he wraps his arms around my waist, keeping me in place as he rubs against me, putting his head in the crook of my neck. (authors note, I'm writing this in Science class) Feeling his shallow breaths against my neck as he tries to keep in groans, our roommate Connor asleep in the next room. He continues to grind against me as he gets rougher, making me moan. He places his hand against my mouth as he gives one more hard grind before bending me forward and pushing me against my desk. He leans over me, grinding again, and whispering to me. "Next time Y/N, watch how you move, alright? Now, Prince, be a good slut for daddy."I nod my head and he chuckles, leaning back up, running his hands over my ass. He suddenly smacks it, making me gasp. He runs his hands up my hips, flipping me around and lifting me to sit on the desk and spreading my legs apart a little, stepping in between them as he takes my hoodie off. He immediately starts sucking, leaving hickeys on my neck. I moan as he gropes my boob with one hand, his other traveling into my pants. (I'm now in ELA class... hah) He sets me on my feet, looking at me impatiently. I quickly pull my pants down, leaving me only in my underwear and him fully dressed. He only looks at me with dominance. "Everything off Y/N." I look at him, rocking on my heels, feeling a bit bratty. Mistake. He wraps his hand around my neck and I hear a very familiar click. My eyes widen as I rush to take my panties off. "Good boy~" he hums, picking me up as I wrap my legs around him. He presses me against a wall to hold me up with one hand, using the other to take his throbbing member out of his pants. I whine as I feel it brush against me. He chuckles, brushing it against my opening, teasing me. I moan and he covers my mouth with his large hand as he pushes into me, letting out a soft groan. He slowly pumps, knowing he's driving me crazy. I whine and he lifts his hand from my mouth, wrapping it around my throat. "What do you want, baby?" he asks, smirking. I choke back moans. "Please..." I say, out of breath as he continues his teasing pace. "Please what baby boy? Use your words~" he purrs. "Please.... please... f-faster... h-harder..." I quietly say as he smiles crazily. Suddenly he slams into me, making me scream as he places his hand back on my throat. "Happily!" he laughs as he continues slamming into me. You can clearly hear my moans through his hand as I feel the burning knot start to build in my stomach. His pace stays just as ravaging as he groans. At the sound of his groan the knot in my stomach snaps as I cum on him. He continues pounding at the same pace. He looks down and his lip curls up. "Did I say you could cum, slut?" he spits, picking up his pace and throwing his head back. I begin to cry as the overstimulation overcomes my body. He keeps his pace as my tears roll down his hands, my screams sounding as though they aren't even muffled.

As I begin to come down from my high, I feel my second orgasm start to build up. I start whining to tell Schlatt so I don't get in trouble. He laughs.

"Do you really think i should let you cum?" he questions, removing his hand from my mouth again and grabbing a fist full of my hair, his thrusts getting sloppier. I nod rapidly. At that, he grins. "Beg"

"P-please... please Daddy, please let me cum, Ill be good! Please" I plead in-between moans. He chuckles, letting go of my hair and stroaking my cheek softly. "Good boy~ Cum with me~"

As his thrusts become harder and sloppier, I cum again. Seconds after I feel him release ropes of his seed inside of me. He pulls out, shifting me into bridal position as I feel his cum dripping out of me. He quickly throws a blanket over me as I lay my head on his chest. He carries me out the office and into the bathroom, setting me in the tub and starting the warm water. He momentarily leaves the room to grab me new clothes, and I hear Connor outside the door., making me giggle.

"Next time Schlatt, keep it down."

(If you want, dm some story ideas. ill take some.)

[plainbrunettelbl]

ABO (A) Aizawa Shota x (O) Reader Chicken Noodle Soup

Word count: 1475

Warning: Sweet fluff that will send you into cardiac arrest. 

Title: ABO (A) Aizawa Shota x (O) Reader Chicken Noodle Soup

Summary: You don’t show up to work because you are sick so your tired eyed Alpha visits your apartment to take care of you. 

(Gif is not mine credit to owner)

💤-You felt like you were run over by a truck. Your nose was stuffed and your head felt like an ice pick was going through it. You constantly felt hot and cold. You had to keep rearranging your nest to fit your body’s needs.

💤-One second a light sheet felt like heaven against your skin and the next you felt like if you didn’t pile blankets on you, you would freeze to death. The only thing that was a constant in your nest was a plush black cat you clutched against your chest.

💤-The smell of your Alphas firewood and rain scent calmed your aching body just a little.

💤-You had called into work and said you would be out for the next couple of days. You knew your absence wouldn’t go unnoticed. As soon as your tired eyed mate found out you weren’t in today he would come straight to you.

💤-You knew the moment he realized you weren’t at work. Your phone was going off on the nightstand. No doubt the concerned Alpha was pacing in the office worrying about you. You wanted to ease his worry but the thought of getting out of your nest and crawling to your phone was too much.

💤-Your body was drained and you weren’t moving anytime soon.

💤-Thirty minutes later a knock was heard on your apartment door. You just snuggled further into your nest. The loud thuds sent pulses of pain through your head. Your Alpha had a key so you knew he would just let himself in anyways.

💤-“Y/N? Omega?” He quietly called throughout the apartment.

💤-You heard plastic bags rustling from the kitchen before you head his footsteps padding to your bedroom

💤-The sound of you coughing alerted him to where you were. He opened the door and peeked in. The bed was empty but he spotted your nest in the corner of the bedroom. He saw the pile of blankets shudder as you coughed again.

💤-“Oh, Kitten.” He cooed, at the doorway.

💤-He knew some Omegas felt weak and vulnerable when sick. Your relationship was still a little new so he didn’t know how to proceed. What if you didn’t want him near you and your nest?

💤-“Can I come in, baby? I won’t go near your nest.” He assured, keeping his voice low.

💤-“Yeah. You can come close to my nest. Just not in.” You rasped wiggling in your nest to pop your head out.

💤-The sight of your flushed cheek and tangled hair made his Alpha purr. His Omega was so adorable. Your blurry eyes peered up at him. The smell of him so close made your Omega whimper sadly.

💤-Your omega wanted to be close to him but she also didn’t feel safe enough to finally invite him into her nest. If you were healthy you felt like you wouldn’t have a problem but with the state you were in now, you were just feeling a little too vulnerable.

💤-You dazedly watched as your inky-haired Alpha came closer.

💤-He held one of his hands close to your face, cautiously waiting to see if his touch would be accepted or not. You wasted no time nuzzling your heated cheek into his calloused hand. You let out a soft sigh at the contact.

💤-“You are burning up babe. I’ll go get you a wet cloth.” He said, slowly putting his hand away.

💤-You whined at the loss of his hand. You blinked your eyes open, having closed that as soon as his hand made contact with you, and gave him a pout.

💤-“Can you scent this first?” You whined, lifting up the plush black cat.

💤-“Of course, Omega.” He said, reaching down and plucking it from your weak grasp. He brought it up to his neck and vigorously scented the soft animal. Once done he handed it back to you before dropping a quick kiss on your warm forehead and walking into your bathroom to wet a washcloth.

💤-Before he soaked it, he made sure to scent it as well.

💤-By the time he came back, you were already half asleep. He gently put it on your forehead. You startled a little at the cold contact but settled when you heard his gentle purr to soothe you.

💤-He knew rest was important for recovery but he also was worried when he didn’t see a glass of water in your room. He went to the kitchen and filled up a glass of cold water. He eyed the groceries he brought.

💤-He had gotten you your favorite flavor of Gatorade but he didn’t think you would be able to keep it down right now.

💤-He softly padded back to your room. He was careful not to disturb your nest. His big hand cupped your face again. You purred into his touch, still asleep.

💤-“Omega.” He softly called, rubbing his thumb up and down your soft cheek.

💤-You were clearly out of it. Your eyes didn’t so much as flutter. He didn’t want to wake you but he knew it was best if you had some water in you.

💤-“Omega.” His Alpha called, his voice taking on a deeper tone.

💤-You opened your eyes in a daze.

💤-“Alpha?” You whispered, your Omega having woken you up.  

💤-“Drink this Omega. Small sips.” He hushed, brushing your hair out of your face.

💤-“Yes, Alpha.” You mumbled, slowly drinking from the cup he held up to your mouth.

💤-Once he thought you had drunk enough he pulled the glass away.

💤-“Go back to sleep, Omega. I’ll be here when you wake up. I’m gonna make you some chicken noodle soup.” He cooed, pecking your forehead once more.

💤-You hummed before slipping away again.

💤-He walked to the kitchen with a determined look on his face. He was gonna make his Omega some soup! He quickly tied up his long black hair and got to chopping.

***

💤-With the soup finally done, he poured you a bowl. He made sure it was a decent amount but not enough to upset your stomach. He went to the living room and set it on the coffee table before going to wake you up.

💤-He knew you wanted to rest in your nest until you were feeling better but he also knew you would be upset if some of the soup spilled on any of your blankets. Omegas hated food in their nests.

💤-Any drink that could sticky your soft blankets or chips that would leave behind itchy crumbs was forbidden. He didn’t want you stressing over your nest when you needed as much rest as you can get.

💤-He used his Alphas voice once again.

💤-“Omega.” He called, softly rubbing your scalp. You felt a little cooler. His Alpha was pleased with the change in your temperature.  

💤-“Alpha?” You hummed, not opening your eyes but responding to him nonetheless.

💤-“It’s time to eat, Omega.”

💤-You just whined and snuggled back into your nest. You didn’t want to get up. The soft blankets surrounding you were just right and you were having the best dream about Shota and you enjoying a day at the beach.

💤-His Alpha let out a warning growl. He wanted you to get better. In order for you to get better, you had to eat. You barely had time to snap your eyes open in alarm at his growl before he plucked you from your nest.

💤-He carried you, bride style, out of your bedroom.

💤-“Alpha!” You squealed, look up at him in surprise.

💤-“You have to eat, Omega.” He reprimanded, carrying you out of the living room.

💤-He sat down on the couch with you in his lap. He made sure to throw a blanket over you before leaning forward and grabbing the steaming bowl of soup on the coffee table.

💤-You were grumpy at being taken from your nest but as soon as you set sight on the bowl your stomach growled. All grumpy thoughts faded away. You gratefully took the bowl from him and ate a spoonful.

💤-“Mmm. Thank you, Alpha.” You chirped, going straight for another taste.

💤-“No problem, Omega. Make sure to eat slow. I don’t want you getting an upset stomach.” He warned, wrapping his arms around your waist.

💤-“Yes, Alpha.” You purred, snuggling into his chest.

💤-You obediently ate the whole bowl while watching a cat documentary Shota put on. Soft purrs left your chest as your body slowly got heavier and eyes blinked closed. 

💤-Shota made sure the blanket was covering you well. He leaned down and kissed your head, making sure to keep it tucked into his chest. He let out his own rumbled purr to help lull you to sleep even more.

💤-“Rest well, Kitten.”  

I hope you like this small fluff fic! 

This was a custom one I did for a friend so if you find any physical traits that don’t belong let me know! I wanted to post as soon as I could since I know y'all have been waiting a while for me to upload! 

Please make sure to leave a note or comment! Love y'all! 🖤🖤

[gffa]

I swore for about ten entire minutes that I wasn’t going to do a set of recs for THE OLD GUARD, I was just going to watch the movie, indulge in a bit of fanart, and then I would be done. But then I was like HOW ABOUT I HAVE SOME FEELINGS INSTEAD? and here we are. So HAVE SOME FEELINGS ABOUT ANCIENT IMMORTALS AND REASONABLY ANCIENT IMMORTALS AND BABY IMMORTALS.  COME YELL ABOUT FEELINGS WITH ME, FANDOM. THE OLD GUARD RECS: ✦ An Unrecorded History by xpityx, joe/nicky, 1.1k    Joe closed the book and dropped it none too carefully on the table. He would have liked to have thrown it away—to prevent anyone else from reading it—but it was far too easy to make copies of books in these times, so he knew it would be no use. He also could not quite bring himself to discard something as precious as a book, no matter how poorly written it was. ✦ keep yourself alive for me by retts, joe/nicky, NSFW, 1.7k    Nicky grabbed Joe’s hand and pulled him towards the stairs, not that there was any resistance from Joe. ‘If I remember correctly, this one has two bathrooms, doesn’t it?’ ✦ let’s give them something to talk about by lacecat, joe/nicky & andy/nile, nsfw, 4.8k    In which Nicky and Joe take liberties with recounting history, because it’s fun. ✦ Family Dinner by dadvans, joe/nicky & nile, 2.4k    The only time Nile ever sleeps a full night and feels remotely part of herself is when she stays with Nicky and Joe, who shampoo brains out of each other’s hair in the shower and clean their guns on the couch watching Chopped reruns. ✦ one burning candle, one wind-whipped flame by Dialux, joe/nicky & andy, 5.1k    Yusuf dies, and dies, and dies, and lives, as well, for a thousand years. Nicolo’s by his side for all of them, and it’s not quite the love story of eternity, but it’s theirs: and that’s enough for them both ✦ Future Days by maroon, joe/nicky & andy/noriko, 2.1k    “Then why untie me?” The man grins, terribly amused, and awfully affectionate. Andromache wants to look away, but for some reason, can’t. Maybe because the look in his eye reminds her of herself, a lifetime ago. “Because my beloved is soft, and kind, and will flay me alive if he’d known I tied up a woman.” ✦ Islands of Hours by RC_McLachlan, joe/nicky, 1.5k    There eventually comes a lull, and so they go to Malta. ✦ take out by j_gabrielle, joe/nicky & nile, ~1k    It probably should bother her when Joe kicks the door to the flat open and promptly marches in to deposit their takeout on the living room table. All while he is tracking half-dried blood and mud on the shiny tile floors. “You, ah,” Nile says even as she hurries to pick through the night’s offerings. “They let you on the subway like that?” ✦ all a smooth plain, and the soil deep by inlovewithnight, andy & nile & joe & nicky, 2.1k    After London, they all need to rest. ✦ we are golden by retts, joe/nicky, ~1k    Joe lowers his gaze to the open page on his lap. The sketch is of a man on a charging horse, hair and beard whipping in the wind, sword in one hand and a shield in the other. The eyes in the drawing are the same eyes watching him now. His Nicolo. 'You were a hard fucker to kill back then, Nicky.’ ✦ An eagle’s old age, a sparrow’s youth by BakedAppleSauce, joe/nicky, 2.2k    Joe comes shuffling back into the room, heavy footsteps that mean he’s either tired, or not really trying, or both. Familiar as breathing. Nicky’d recognize him anywhere, walking among a million of strangers. In which some people are laying low for a while, in more ways than one. ✦ A Most Forgetful Death by RC_McLachlan, joe/nicky, 1.2k    “You’re an incurable romantic,” Nicky says, and though his expression doesn’t so much as twitch, Joe can hear the laughter languishing between the words, can feel it on his tongue and rubbing up against his teeth when Nicky meets him halfway to smear a kiss against his mouth. ✦ Luce e ombre by sheafrotherdon, andy & nile, 1.2k    The discomfort is so new that it startles her, and she searches her memory to remember a time before she was immortal: a time when a cut, a scrape, a bruise hurt for longer than a moment, long enough to interrupt sleep. The memories don’t come ✦ When I Am with You by takethisnight_wrapitaroundme, joe/nicky, NSFW, 5.4k    “You… would like to waste a thousand euros’ worth of champagne by pouring it all over me?” Nicky has to repeat it aloud to make sure he’s heard right. While spending some quality time together on vacation in France, Nicky has a surprise for Joe. And Joe, as it turns out, has a surprise for Nicky. ✦ the common tongue of your loving me by spokenitalics, joe/nicky, NSFW, 1.4k    “It’s just— Do you ever wonder how much we’ve forgotten?” Nicky asks, eventually. “How many names and faces and places have just… faded away from our memory?” ✦ i have loved you for a thousand years by owilde, ~1k    It’s him. Again. Yusuf shields his eyes from the blinding desert sunlight, staring into the near distance where a man is stood, alone, a harsh silhouette cut against the bright blue sky and peach-coloured sand. ✦ this is why by retts, joe/nicky, 1.2k    Small as it was, they had their own room in the London safe house, which was a good thing because Joe was prying open Nicky’s mouth with his fingers. Not with his tongue, much as Nicky would prefer it, but with three calloused fingers sneaking inside his lips as if Nicky wouldn’t wake up from the intrusion. He was on his back, Joe pressed closer to him than his own shadow. The slant of moonlight from the window illuminated Joe’s dark eyes as he bent over Nicky. Joe sucked in the corner of his mouth, a tell that he’d never shaken off all these long centuries. ✦ I Found Peace in Your Violence by j_gabrielle, joe/nicky, 1.5k    5 Times Joe and Nicky kill each other + 1 (of many) times they killed someone together ✦ life is very long by kaydeefalls, joe/nicky & andy & nile & booker & quynh & copley, 7.1k    Andromache tells him: “The Greeks used to have seven different words for love. Well. More, probably. But I remember seven.” She shrugs. “There are many ways to love one another, and life is long. We’ve time enough for them all. It’s the only thing that makes it worthwhile.” Nicky and his immortal family, over the centuries. ✦ take a breath by BeStillMySlashyHeart, joe/nicky & andy & nile & booker, 1k    Once they are safe, Nicky and Joe take a moment together. ✦ Between the Hour and the Age by hauntedjaeger (saellys), andy & nile & joe & nicky, 2.5k    “To the Art Institute of Chicago,” Andy echoes, “so that my breasts may be culturally appreciated in perpetuity.” She tips the bottle and lets out three drops. As they fall to the stone floor, Joe and Nicky rap their knuckles on the nearest pieces of metal: the other lantern for Nicky, the oxidized helmet for Joe. One rap for each drop. In another time, they might have struck their swords on shields. ✦ how we live by retts, joe/nicky, ~1k    Life, though, brings pain. Goddamn pain. Bullets that struck his cranium and pelvis – the big bones in the body – are forced out. The rest went through him, carrying organ tissue and muscle with them. Those lost bits have to be regrown. Bones realign and the ribs in his lungs retract so they can breathe again. So Nicky can breathe again. And when he breathes, he thinks, Yusuf. ✦ Paradeisos by Enneara, joe/nicky, 2.9k    Traveling through Greece with Yusuf after fleeing the Holy Land, Nicolò suffers a crisis of faith. ✦ The Language of Love by 1derspark, joe/nicky & andy/quynh & booker & nile, 4.5k    Or five times Nicky hears Joe speak his language and one time Nicky returns the favor. ✦ Le Vite by ScribeofArda, joe/nicky & andy & nile & booker, 8k    Nicky breathes out. “What did I miss?” he asks, staring out at the hills. “Why didn’t I see this coming?” After everything, after finding Nile and losing Booker and Andy’s new mortality, Joe is pissed off. Nicky is just tired. ✦ The god of my idolatry by Petra, andy/nile, NSFW, 3.4k    “You said you were worshipped as a god.” “I was.” Nile steels herself and asks, “Would you like to do it again?” Andy laughs and throws back the contents of her glass. “They don’t teach you pick-up lines in the Marines, do they.” ✦ love is not over by retts, joe/nicky & andy & nile, 1.3k    'Babe, do you know what this reminds me of?’ asked Nicky. Joe licked his lips and tilted his head to the side, gaze intent on the mole on Nicky’s cheek. 'What?’ 'The first time you drew me.’ ✦ Case Analysis by skeeno, joe/nicky & andy & booker & copley, 3.4k    It’s not totally out of the ordinary for the people Copley meets in his line of work to be extraordinary. But he’s intrigued by these four. ✦ compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience by Jack_R, joe/nicky & andy & quynh, 11.9k    ‘You are a shame to your countrymen and the lowest of the low,’ Yusuf said, ‘and your mother copulated with a dog.’ ✦ Everything in moderation (even moderation) by BakedAppleSauce, joe/nicky, NSFW, 6.1k    The novelty has worn off, of course, but it’s not the novelty that keeps anybody coming back, anyway. Novelty never sustains anything. ✦ What the Water Takes by xpityx, andy & nile & quynh, 1k    Here is a secret she will never write down. ✦ Stracciatella by ScribeofArda, joe/nicky & andy & nile, 4.8k    “None of us have any evidence of the ways we have died,” Nicky continues. “But you remember the fall, don’t you? You remember the first time you died, the way your blood spilled out as your throat was slashed. I remember the first time I died, when the love of my life drew his sword across my neck as I drove mine into his chest and we both fell to the sand.”

[baka-monarch]

Little Bitch Gremlin

Wilbur sighed as he cut off the last block of a tree. He had about a stack of wood now after hours of chopping, and was ready to start collecting what the leaves drop. He raised his axe when he was interrupted by a ping on his communicator.

Technoblade: Where are you

Technoblade: Phil's been trying to message you about dinner

Wilbur chuckled at the message from the man he considered a brother. He knew Techno felt the same familial bond with all of them even if he'd never call Phil Dad or Wil his twin, Wilbur knew the piglin felt the same.

WilburSoot: I have him muted

Technoblade: Why

WilburSoot: It gets annoying to get worried messages every second

Technoblade: Well you better hurry back because I think he's preparing to kill you

The human smiled at the messages before pocketing his communicator. He put his axe away in his inventory and let out a little stretch, laughing to himself at the face his Dad must've had when they saw his messages on Techno's communicator. Oh he was definitely dead when he got home, that was for sure.

With one final look around the forest, Wilbur was off on the short journey home. As he walked he took his time, deciding on a leisurely stroll back so he could enjoy the scenery, see the sunset, look at some animals- and most importantly, be as slow as possible to annoy his dad even more. Most would say that it was a fool's folly to purposely anger The Angle of Death, but this was Wilbur Fish Fucking Soot, he chose making the gods angry as a past time like how one would purposely push over a game of jenga- he did not fear the consiquinses of being annoying…. Plus Phil was his dad anyways, so he probably still wouldn't be killed…

Probably.

Wilbur was about halfway home when he heard a weird noise. It was like some kind of garbling- like if a person tried to giggle and talk nonsense at the same time? Okay, he didn't know how to describe it. Either way, the human walked over to where the noise was coming from, curious as to what in the world could make such a sound. As he got closer to a rather large puddle of mud, he could hear his father's voice in his mind scolding him for following strange noises when they could be a mob, or worse, a person wanting to kill him for items. He ignored this voice however as his eyes lit up at the sight of what was in the mud.

Wilbur gasped and awed as he saw a little puppy splashing around and making those little adorable garbled noises. It was completely covered in mud so he could only really see it's bright blue eyes that were the cutest things he'd ever seen in his life.

"Aw, aren't you just the cutest thing" Wilbur scooped the puppy up out of the mud as he cooed at it.

"Aba?" The puppy made the little noise as it tilted it's head, confused as to what was happening, but the action only made Wilbur awe more.

"I'm taking you home, I'm sure the others would love you-" Wil cut himself off as he hesitated to hug the dog close to his chest. The human cringed as he remembered that the puppy was completely covered in mud. "And to give you a bath, blegh, fucking gross…" he mumbled as he hesitantly hugged the dog to his chest, he obviously wanted to have a good hold on the dog so he wouldn't drop it, but it was at the cost of his favorite yellow sweater.

"Buba" Was the dog's only response to what Wilbur was doing as it wiggled in the human's grip. Wilbur cringed more as the dog's movements got more mud on him.

"No- shit- FUCK!" Wilbur changed his grip to be hugging the dog tightly against his chest, which stopped the wiggling, but now his arms had mud on them… "you're a fucking bitch, y'know that?" The puppy only giggled making Wilbur sigh.

With one last shift of his grip to make sure his puppy was secure, Wilbur was begrudgingly off again on his walk home- but much faster this time, wanting to get there before the mud could stain his sweater.

•••

"Dad!! I'm home!!" Wilbur yelled as he pushed through the door using his hip, as his hands were still occupied keeping this chaotic bumbling puppy from jumping away.

"It's about time-" Philza walked out from a side room with a stern look on his face "what took you so long, Wilbur I swear…." The dad trailed off as his eyes landed on the squirming thing in his son's arms.

"I found a puppy!!" The boy exclaimed happily while trying to stop the dog from putting a mud covered paw in it's mouth to eat the goop.

"Well, uhm-" Phil was at a loss for words at first. Of all the things for Wil to bring home he hadn't expected a mud covered puppy. Maybe Techno, but he never thought Wilbur would want a dog. "We'll go clean it up and give me your sweater before it gets stained…" The son was quick to nod happily before rushing off in the direction of the bathroom, leaving his dad standing there completely dumbfounded.

Wilbur was glad that the bathroom door was already open so he could run straight in. He set down his puppy in the bath tub before throwing off his sweater and setting it down outside the restroom where he knew his dad would take it to wash. The human turned to the puppy who was currently rolling around in the tub and getting mud everywhere.

"Hold on hold on-" He sat down and picked the puppy back up and sat it in the middle of the tub. "Stay." He commanded before finally turning on the water.

"Eep!" The puppy squeaked as it flinched back from the cold water.

"Just give it a second to warm up…" Wilbur put the stopper in and watched as the puppy squirmed and tried to climb over the side. "Nope." Wil grabbed the puppy and pushed them back into the water where it whined, but the sound didn't last long as the water was finally beginning to get warm making the puppy visibly relax. Wilbur chuckled, "ya like that?" Obviously the puppy didn't respond, but the way their eyes began to droop and the way it began to relax in the warm water was answer enough. Wilbur chuckled, "There we go, now you're a calm little gremlin" he made his hand wet before petting the puppy's hair and smiled at the way they leaned into the touch.

Wilbur grabbed a cup and while the puppy was distracted, he filled it with water before pooring it right onto their head. He laughed as they sputtered and squirmed, trying to escape the water only for Wilbur to poor another cupfull onto them. The puppy made threatened noises as it tried to escape but Wilbur was just too fast as he poofed more and more water onto them before grabbing a sponge. "Now sit still little pup"

"BA!!" The pup made a noise before trying to climb out of the tub in retaliation, but Wilbur was quick to grab them and force them back into the water where he began to scrub their wiggling form. "Mmmmmmmm" The pup whined as they kept their mouth closed and Wilbur took the opertunity to scrub their face, laughing as he saw it's features scrunch up in discomfort.

"Just a bit more…." Wilbur hummed as he wiped the mud off to finally be able to see his puppy's pale face. "There we go!" He said happily and finally pulled the sponge away. The puppy blew a raspberry at Wilbur in annoyance as soon as their face was free. "Oh yeah? Fuck you two bitch" he poored another another cup of water onto them and smiled in victory as they yelped in surprise and fear. That victory soon left Wil as the puppy shook their head and got him completely wet. "FUCK!!" The puppy laughed at Wilbur causing the older to glare.

"Baba!" The pup said in victory.

"So you wanna be like that eh?" Wilbur smiled and grabbed the soap. He was supposed to be cleaning it after all. "Well how about I do…. This!!" He held the down and got into the tub with it and began to vigorously scrub at them with the soap, laughing at their noises of protest as they fruitlessly tried to squirm away. "You gotta get clean gremlin!!!" He yelled before scrubbing the puppy's face, and once done he looked into their eyes with a smile. "Like that" in response all the puppy did was sneeze in Wilbur's face. "Ah fuck!!" The human scrambled back and fell out of the tub, groaning as he heard the puppy's victorious giggles. "You little bitch gremlin…"

"You doing okay?" Wilbur looked up to see Techno peeking into the bathroom and staring at him laying on the floor.

"Yeah, great, fantastic-" Wilbur sat up and looked at Techno. "I didn't know cleaning a dog would be this hard…" he mumbled.

"Uuuhhh…" Techno looked into the tub and very clearly saw a naked human baby and not a dog. "I don't think that's a dog"

"What do you mean?" Wilbur looked at his brother confused.

"Well firstly- don't let them eat soap"

"Huh?"

Sure enough as Wilbur turned around the puppy had the bar of soap held in their hands and was slowly bringing it to their open mouth while making a small "aaaaahhhh" noise.

"Give me that!" Wilbur snatched the soap away from the pup and didn't miss the sad look they gained from it being taken.

Tecno huffed. "And secondly, they look nothing like a dog. Wilbur, you brought home a baby human." At Techno's words Wilbur looked at the child in the tub and finally noticed that yes, they didn't have fur, yes they only had hair on their head, that yes they had hands, and most importantly, yes they were naked and that was baby junk-

"Oh fuck!!" Wilbur scooted back, making the baby laugh. "You tricked me you little gremlin" he glared, and once again only got a laugh in return.

"Baba!" Was all the baby said.

"I'll go get Philza-" Techno turned and started walking away, not wanting to deal with this.

"Wait you can't leave me alone with it!!" Wilbur begged after his brother.

"He!! Not it!!" Was all Techno called back.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 06 part two

(Masterpost)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Bathing Boy Beauties

So, now we and Wei Wuxian get to see Lan Wangji with his shirt off. Eventually Lan Wangji will realize that his brother set this up, and will think of some way to get back at him, possibly by spending three years being stubborn in a cave or maybe by chopping an arm off of someone his brother cares about. 

This is A+ Yibo fanservice but it's also a male-male version of a trope that's ubiquitous in c-drama, in which the male lead takes a bath and the female lead sees him. The purpose of the scene is almost always so a woman can look a man’s body over and decide, not to put too fine a point on it, whether she wants to fuck him. 

Examples:

The Pillow Book - “Which part of Shen Ye is better than me?”

Women’s sexual agency is not often at the forefront in c-dramas, but the bathtub scenes are an acknowledgement of the female gaze, and of male objects of desire being subject to evaluation & approval.

Tientsin Mystic is a show with a lot of muscley swimming in it, In case you’re looking for your next Netflix show. 

As a CGI artist I have to mention that water does not reflect or refract 100% of light. If you look at a naked dingle-having person in a bathtub full of clear water you will definitely be able to see their dingle. But C-drama water is magic and nothing is visible below the waterline, to the point that Bai Yu is modestly covering his thoracic surgery scar chest in Detective L while leaving his lower half uncovered.

Note: that caption isn’t fake; she is really saying this on her way out the door, after having a long chat with him in the bathroom. You can find the whole series on YouTube.

Seen in this context, The Untamed’s two bathing scenes are saying quite a lot. Wei Wuxian, being a boy, doesn’t display any female-encoded shyness or modesty, but he and his sword pause for a moment of admiration.

(more after the cut!)

16 years later, Lan Wangji will sit quietly in this pool and let Wei Wuxian examine his wet body thoroughly from multiple angles, in a more prolonged invocation of this C-drama mating ritual.

Carrying on - was Xiao Zhan supposed to kick his boot in the water like that? Because if not, he rolls with it like a champ.

Wei Wuxian starts trying to be direct with Lan Wangji, giving him the worst, most neg-filled compliment ever, bless his heart.  

Then he says that there are benefits to being his friend, and starts taking off his clothes.

Wei Wuxian here takes his first step into the bold new world of respecting Lan Wangji’s boundaries, asking Lan Wangji to stay and saying he will keep his clothes on. 

Lan Wangji actually does stay, so he's apparently not too angry with Wei Wuxian about the drinking. Wei Wuxian invites him to visit Lotus Pier sometime (see my gifset here), but the promise of lotus pods doesn’t impress him. Then Wei Wuxian tries to tell him that the Yunmeng chicks really knock me out, they leave the rest behind. This also doesn’t impress him. 

You could read this macking-on-ladies talk as a sign that Wei Wuxian is oblivious to LWJ's feelings for him. But I read it as a bisexual boy being horny on main with a boy he likes, not  understanding yet that some boys don’t share all of his turn-ons.

Lan Wangji is sort of mildly startled when Wei Wuxian disappears under the water. His eye makeup is good here, isn’t it?.

Ice Cave

They end up in an ice cave and both spend the rest of the episode showing how good they look with wet hair. 

When the guqin starts attacking, Lan Wangji is only mildly perturbed about Wei Wuxian getting his shit rocked over and over.

Eventually he sends Bichen to protect his very bedraggled date. Lan Wangji’s sword is faster than the speed of a very slow sound wave.

Beauty's where you find it not just where you bump and grind it 

Gusuship Down

I feel like there are a couple of things in this show that are so problematic the fandom has silently agreed to never discuss them. Well, I’m here to talk about this one:

There are rabbits in this ice cave and they are wearing headbands. HEADbands. On RABBits.  

EXCELLENT FUCKING QUESTION, LAN WANGJI

*deep breath*

Are these rabbits lineal Lan descendants? Who makes the headbands? How do they stay on because “headband” here means “glowing cloud on forehead” without any actual band.  When rabbit babies are born, how do they stay safe while they’re waiting for someone to make them baby-sized headbands? Do these rabbits adhere to the other 3499 Lan Clan principles or just the headband one? Is any ol' rabbit allowed to touch a rabbit’s headband or is it limited to parents and significant others and is that even relevant when presumably these bunnies are all fucking each other like...bunnies?

The characters are like “oh, the rabbits are wearing headbands; killer guqin problem solved.” And then they move right the fuck along with their lives and the rabbit headbands are never seen or discussed again and I just want a hit of whatever the author or creative team was smoking when they came up with this whole idea.

Headband Sharing

When Wei Wuxian tells Lan Wangji to hand over his headband, Lan Wangji understands his entire rabbit-based thought process without asking

Gen-X Joke Alert

Wei Wuxian is awfully impressed by this sword-recall trick, considering that he did it himself when they went to the lake.

I see you know your way around a sheath

Killer Guqin

When they approach the guqin I hope that the subtitles are mistranslated, because Wei Wuxian keeps promising not to touch it and then says he can't look at it without touching it. I'm not going to touch it, I just need to touch it. 

Lan Wangji is going to teach Wei Wuxian some goddamn boundaries no matter how many times he has to make him fondle his sword.

Nothing suggestive here

Lan Wangji sits down to play the guqin and immediately goes off into the ether where there are seagull noises and plenty of fans. This is either a state of pure bliss, or he just really likes seagulls.

Did Lan Wangji just have a stealth orgasm?

Speaking of getting off, get your ass off of my desk

The Yin Iron

Lan Wangji does some spirit whispering, and suddenly the cave starts yelling at them. A bunch of clans are chanting in unison about a plan, which is the cultivator version of a battle cry.

Lancestor Lan Yi shows up. She is elegant and has a combination of sweetness and gravity that is similar to Lan Xichen’s. And none of Lan Qiren’s douchiness.

Search Party

Lan Qiren is worried and Lan Xichen is worried and they have sent people to look for the boys. It's really too bad nobody around here knows magic.

All these powerful cultivators search for missing people by running around outdoors yelling for them. 

Yanli is excused from PE class because she’s not feeling well, so she sits on a rock in the woods instead of, you know, staying home in the first place. She gets bored sitting down and unwisely decides to walk two or three steps. Xuan Lu, seen here competing in a gymnastics event, gamely pretends she can’t climb a small rock. 

Yanli falls into Jin Zixuan's arms and they gaze at each other for a long heterosexual moment. 

No homosexual explanation possible

This means two things: 1. he isn't looking very hard for her brother if he's hanging out here catching wobbly girls 2. soulful longing looks from him ain't shit, because he's going to dump her in the next episode.

Lanny Granny

Lan Wangji intros himself to Lan Yi and does a full prostrate bow. Wei Wuxian does a standing bow since he's not a descendant, just a future in-law.

No I mean come on, HEADBANDS

Lan Gran explains the entire history of the yin iron. It's bad, it's full of resentful energy, no-one should use it. She’s going to dump it on a couple of 16 year old boys, one of whom has a woody for using resentful energy, because it’s destiny and her battery is about to run out. 

Props to the Prop Department; this thing does look pretty cool

Xue Chonghai was the most problematic cultivator back in the old days. He killed a lot of dudes and fed their resentment to...a turtle? To the disk? I don’t know; I literally am unable to pay attention when anyone is explaining the intricacies of the unobtanium Yin Iron. 

Anyway there’s a disk and it’s soaked up a lot of resentment.  

Using it makes people evil. Well except..clearly this dude started off evil, yeah? If he was feeding people to his turtle.

Side effects may include: being fucking crazy

Here Wei Wuxian brings out his "resentful energy is awesome" theory and has an experienced grown-up grand master tell him that she also thought this, and has spent 100 years locked in a cave with headband-wearing rabbits because she was super fucking wrong. Does this deter him? ...nope

Baoshan Sanren

Now she name checks Baoshan Sanren, and Wei Wuxian has a big reaction and Lan Wangji has a big noticing of Wei Wuxian’s reaction. He’s very attuned to Wei Wuxian’s emotional state, in the moments where WWX lets his actual feelings show through the sass and swagger.  

Lan Gran talks about her search for the Yin iron, and Lan Wangji wisely says, if you can't neutralize it, why look for it? And she says, I was filled with hubris just like ya boi Wei Wuxian.  Lan Wangji points out the exact same shit he will later point out to Wei Wuxian.

So now we have a parallel in which Lan Yi is just like Wei Wuxian and Baoshan Sanren is just like Lan Wangji, yeah? Which is kind of sweet; it shows how these types are drawn together and how your clan doesn't determine your personality. Also it shows how the Lan clan has room for an unorthodox clan leader. Also it shows how the Yin Iron causes some really bad breakups. 

These boys are standing on snow barefoot which has got to take a pretty high cultivation level. Look how short Lan Wangji is without his stilettos, aww.

Flashback to Baoshan Sanren, just long enough to appreciate how beautiful she is.

Did OP give up on recoloring that flashback-blue-hazed image and just start fucking around with random filters? Yes she did. 

We also get to see that Lan Yi and Lan Wangji have more common than just guqin, because they both like to solve problems by kicking them.  

So after breaking up with her girlfriend, Lan Gran became invisible in this cave for 100 years while trying to contain the Yin iron and put headbands on rabbits. 

Soundtrack: Vogue by Madonna Writing prompt: Watership Down rabbits meet Lan rabbits

Bonus extended bath clip:

Bai Yu, Detective L

[ubemango]

delicacies of the season (m)

part 3: days apart

note: hey!! What’s up!! first, I officially have named this series!! it’s right up there for ur viewing glory! ok anyway here’s something before I disappear for the next four weeks because I am drowning in school!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also just a side thingie for this story: I’ve already established that oc isn’t on birth control but here I’m implying that they’re doing natural planning (i.e. fertility awareness where the person who menstruates keeps up with their cycle and thus only has sex when their cycles allows for it). PLEASE DO NOT DO THIS UNLESS YOU KNOW THE RISKS!!!!!!!! Oh Lord putting your impregnation chances up to God?! I couldn’t do it. But also this is fanfiction and nothing bad will happen to this couple so let’s all just... suspend disbelief for a second ok

PAIRING. taehyung/reader GENRE. romance, farmer au RATED. M WORD COUNT. 2.5k WARNINGS. kitchen sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, a good ol’ creampie bc wot is the ubemango experience without one :/ SUMMARY. Taehyung missed you.

Auntie Gaeul comes over when the rooster crows to tell you to check out the passion fruits today. They’re ripe not because she’s seen them but because she just knows. Call it the Elder Instinct for Ripened Foods. You tell her you’ll give her half the harvest, and she swats at you before she leaves.

“Stop being so polite, I’m not that old,” she spits in jest. “And make some of that honey iced tea your grandma makes. If there’s extra, then I’ll have some.”

Taehyung would probably like some, too; he chugs down anything with passion fruit like he’s about to go into hibernation. And when you come back home from the fields with a basket-full perched heavy on your back, you resolve to make some tea right away to bring over to his house to see if he’s there. You haven’t seen him in five days—his cousin had the stomach flu, and his aunt needed the extra help with tending to the livestock. Being the eldest nephew (and the only one who can drive a motorcycle) had him obligated right from the get-go.

“Grandma! Can you show me where you put the honey jars, I can’t remember where they are. And can you help me peel these—um. You’re not Grandma,” you stop.

Taehyung looks up from where he’s perched on the stairs of your awning, flicking bits of strawberries to the ground for Danbi to eat. Your little puppy scrounges it up so fast she nearly falls over on her fluffy bum.

“I told her to go play bingo with the rest of the granny crew, someone’s betting chicken feet,” he says. You smile wide when he trods over to you for a short kiss, slipping the strap of the basket off your shoulder to put on his. The hand he keeps low on your back is as warm as the ten AM sun. “Hi. I missed you.”

“I was just gonna go see if you were home,” you say. He smells like the wind. Something you’d scrunch your nose at but he makes it work. “When d’you come back? How’s Daeshim now?”

“An hour ago. And he’s better. He ate up all your ice cream, only thing he could keep down.”

You frown. “Poor baby.”

“I know. You gonna clean these now?” He nods his head toward the water basin, carved rock he’d installed for you on your third anniversary.

“Yeah. Can you start? I’ll just wash up quick,” you offer. Suddenly you’re aware you’ve got an ugly shirt with oil stains and holes in random places—nothing Taehyung minds, but the occasion probably deserves better.

“Got it, boss,” Taehyung says. He slaps your ass before you run to the bathroom. A familiar signal of his intentions but he’s too polite to bring it up so quickly.

“Hey!”

“Hurry up,” he calls. As if you’re going to take another five days to get back to him but you get it. You missed him, too; a little more than you’d like to let on. Your grandma is great company but she watches her TV too loud and she hates when you’re not there to sit with her because she might need your help switching channels. It’s a miracle you didn’t jump Taehyung the second your eyes landed on him.

You change into whatever shirt you’ve tossed on the floor that looks semi-presentable. It’s too early for your sweat to reek like it does under the afternoon heat, but you spritz some perfume on your neck anyway. Just for upkeep, because you’d be lying if you said you weren’t anticipating sex, a sloppy makeout session at the least. Danbi’s too hyper to be left alone, plus your grandma likes making surprise visits at your house because she’s a forgetful woman.

By the time you’ve come back from scrubbing the dirt and dead ant bits caked under your nails, Taehyung’s a third of the way through the basket, tossing the clean passion fruit into a bucket Danbi is trying so hard to climb into. She yelps when her fat paws slip at the edges.

“Danbi! Mama’s gonna be mad if you get hurt. I’ll give you some later.”

“Go play with your toy,” you call out to her. “Danbi! Go!”

Her ears perk up at your command, and she pants and pants till she decides to go in the complete opposite direction of the ball and into the patch where all the potatoes are. She hasn’t hit her teething phase so you’re safe from her snuffing anything out with her mouth. It’s her fur you worry about. She’s such a nice shade of white amongst the semi-wet dirt, it almost hurts seeing her get soiled.

“Like a little cotton ball,” Taehyung says. He points to the bucket. “This good?”

You nod—it’s enough to have extra for Auntie Gaeul. “Yeah. Wanna carry it to the kitchen like a good man?”

“As if I’m not one already,” he snorts, grabbing the handle. “Danbi, come!”

This is how it always goes. Taehyung ogles from over your shoulder (usually he’s off to the side but he’s a lot clingier, not that you mind) while you do your business because you don’t trust him with a knife. Not since the time you’d tasked him with chopping garlic and he’d nearly sliced his palm open when he tried crushing them first.

And now you’ve got a new addition to the routine: Danbi sniffs around the dried leaves for the fire, sneezing when she breathes the ash in too hard. You hear her collar jiggle as she explores the earthenware stacked on the side. You made sure Taehyung left the door open because she gets antsy fast.

“Can I just say that I have a thing for seeing you use a knife,” Taehyung says, hands stroking your tummy because he’s got nothing better to do.

“You’re really bad at hiding how turned on you are.”

“Who said I was trying to hide?”

You laugh. “What are you trying to get at, mister?”

“I’m saying I missed you,” he says simply.

“So that’s why you kicked Grandma out the house,” you tease. Taehyung splutters in your ear.

“No! They really are betting chicken feet. What do you think I am?”

“Horny.”

“Ugh.”

You turn your focus back to the chopping board. Taehyung lets the sound of the knife smooth down the goop of the insides fill the space.

“...Are you mad if I am?” He whispers tentatively.

“Oh my god. It’s ten in the morning.”

“You think my dick cares?”

“You think I care?” you joke.

Taehyung gasps. Like his heart just shattered from your vitriol, but all you want is to finish cutting up these damn fruits before you’ll allow his hands to touch you. “Wow. You—? Okay, fine.”

“Wha—”

“I appreciate your hard work,” he coos. He wraps himself around you even tighter, traces a slow kiss on your neck. “Really. But don’t pretend you didn’t miss me too.”

“I never said I didn’t.”

“You’ve got a fucking mouth on you.”

And that gets you to shut up. Taehyung only swears when he wants you to stop talking. Not for the sake of real anger but to show you he’s got something brewing, and you’re here to take whatever it is he’s about to give you.

“I just wanted to be a good fiance and visit the one I love the most after five days because I missed them so much.”

His teeth catch the lobe of your ear. Biting down softly because he’s still aware you’ve got the knife in your hand, but you’ve lost all motor skills the second he started his little bit. You drop the handle slowly. At the last second you push all the shit you’ve laid out on the counter to the farthest corner. Something tells you this space is being defiled this morning.

“Good. Are you wet?”

“N-No.”

“Then we’ll have to do something about that, huh.”

You watch his hands glide up, and you’re half-expecting him to fondle you gently, the way he teases you when you think he’s taking it slow. But instead he goes right for the kill: using those long fingers to pinch right at your tits just to get you to gasp into the feeling. You roll your eyes shut, let your head fall back on his shoulder.

“You like that?”

“Mhm,” you whine.

“Take your shirt off for me.”

You’ve never exposed yourself to kitchen utensils and rice wine on the pantry shelves before but Taehyung makes you want it. He shows his appreciation for your compliance with another hard grope of his hands, this time with his mouth sucking on your neck too. Craving your skin like he’s been absolutely deprived. The calluses on his fingertips rub your nipples raw.

“You smell good,” he croons. “Come here.”

You nearly tip over from how fast he spins you around, but he catches you easy, tongue on yours in the next second. The desperate tug of his lips on yours, the smack of your spit when he pulls you in deeper, all the intricacies of needing someone else to save your own sanity—it culminates here, and now your ass is up on the cold of the counter, Taehyung pulling back from one last kiss to drag that same heat down your body.

“Please let me eat you out here, holy shit.” He tugs at your pants, slides your underwear down with it. Mouthing hungry at your mound because you haven’t answered him yet, so you just groan a quick please, yes and he doesn’t even look at you before he presses his tongue inside you.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, the guilt of ruining this space with your (embarrassingly) uncontrolled libido is raging. But you could care less with the way Taehyung swipes his tongue around your clit, gets you clawing at his hair for brief respite. You’ve most definitely exceeded wet boundaries. His chin practically shines.

And he knows it’s because of him. Not just from his mouth but the knowledge that he wants you trembling towards a heady orgasm, the kind that consumes you whole. His laving gets bolder with every stroke, every moan you try to keep stifled but it’s useless. “Taehyung. Oh my g-od, fuck—no d-don’t use your fingers, I’ll come.”

He laughs, adjusts your thighs so you’re not cramping. “Think you’ll tap out?”

“I wanna come on your dick,” you pants.

“Oh my god,” he groans. “You’re perfect. Oh my god. I’m so fucking hard. Can I come inside you?”

“Yes yes yes yes, just get inside me already.”

Taehyung’s foot gets caught on his pants when he shoves them off, nearly crashing face first into your pussy again. And he laughs and you snort and when he’s naked waist-down he kisses you again, a little slower this time, a breather for just a moment.

“I know it’s only been five days but I missed you. A lot.”

You trap his hips with locked ankles on his back. “I know.”

“It’s just—I had to shovel so much horse shit—”

“Oh don’t say that!” You bat at his chest.

Taehyung snickers. “Sorry. Ahh, I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“You can stick your dick inside me and we can go from there,” you suggest.

“I like the way you think, missus.”

It’s almost laughable when he sinks right in. No resistance, just the slick of your arousal and his spit, an unholy mixture for this thick sacrilege. Taehyung’s eyes stay locked on the sight.

“Fuck yeah. Oh baby…”

If it’s got him uttering curses this early in the round then you’re definitely worse off. You’ve got one profanity for every inch he’s claimed inside you, all lined up behind your teeth but you don’t have the brain capacity to get them out. He fucks you straight to incoherence.

Your delirium keeps you mum. Taehyung will make up for it. He slots his hand up the back of your thighs, hits deeper when you arch through the pleasure. “Holy fuck that’s so good,” you whine. “Taehyung—oh god.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just pants hard with every moan you’ll give him, and you watch the sweat glow on his collarbone, the thick of his neck. Places you claim with your mouth when you lean forward because it’s too hard to keep balance without his gravity.

Taehyung breaks when you bite. “Sh-it. Oh fuck you’re so hot. ‘M not gonna last, shit.”

“You’ll fuck me when you come?” you plead, hold his gaze. He’s just as gone as you are. “You’ll fuck your cum inside me?”

“Yeah baby. I’ll give it to you. So fuckin’ good.”

He never lets up. Just keeps that steady fucking, stiff with every drive into your slick till he adjusts your knees with one push. Pussy open to the angle that gets you begging for his thumb on your clit because it’s right there. You fall back on your hands, no steady grip because Taehyung’s faltering too.

“Oh—!” You flutter your eyes shut to pending ecstasy. “Tae—please—harder—right there right there don’t stop!”

“You gonna come for me?”

It’s a rhetorical question. You know he sees the way your chest collapses, the rub of your clit in quick gestures for your high. He’s got you right in his hand.

“Fuck—ohhh yes!”

“Ugh,” he whines. It’s nearly lost to the ringing in your ears, the clench of your pussy from his pounding. You cream him so good when the orgasm’s strong enough, pulsing hot, the rough intensity. And that’s not lost on him when he cries: “God your pussy’s so wet. Holy shit.”

Usually you’re spent by the time your vision’s cleared to the sight of Taehyung fucking you through it. But he’s promised you something, and you’re greedy for it.

“Come inside me,” you urge, guiding a hand through his hair, pulling hard at his nape. He keeps his eyes on his dick priming you for those final strokes.

“I’ll fucking come,” he snaps. “You ready? I’ll come so good for you baby. Come so fucking—good—!”

He stiffens with a shout, grinds his teeth, lets his orgasm splash inside with so much heat you mewl. And he keeps minimal movement, thrust for soft thrust because it’s too much with the squeezing you tease him with.

“I.” Taehyung clears his throat, panting to a stop. “I… wow.”

Your ass is rubbed raw against the counter. But you’ll risk it again to see the glint in his eye when he pulls out and watches his cum drip down your hole, onto the floor for you to clean when your legs aren’t jelly.

“Wow,” you repeat.

“Do… Am I… Am I ovulating?” He looks genuinely confused. “I don’t… I’ve never been that horny before.”

You snort. “Five days felt like forever, huh.”

Taehyung kisses you slow. “If it means we get to fuck like that again then I’m going to the city for a month.”

“Hey!” You pinch his arm, using his bicep to stand up, tiptoeing around the mess on the floor. “God. Help me clean up here, please. And where’s the dog?”

(Danbi sleeps peacefully in the wicker basket, head lolled on one of the passion fruits. You make sure to bring her over to Auntie Gaeul’s for extra snacks.)

[loudsuitlover]

Bad mom

A/N: Doctor Harry’s Blurb again. I’m doing different things here and now the narrative is going to change. I feel like writing like this now. Hope you feel like reading like this too! 

He still holds her close in bed even after eight years of marriage. Who would have thought that he’d be such a cuddler? But then again he couldn’t possibly know for before he wouldn’t want to sleep with anybody else but now, fourteen years later, he gets a shiver if he thinks of not having the shape of her body marked on their mattress. 

She was already asleep when he got home and he would chop his own finger off before he woke her up these days so he checked on the kids, silently, just because he missed their chubby hands and the way they would stink his white shirts every time and how Hughie would say daddy and Dylan would always prefer his mum. They were both fast asleep on their matching beds, one on each far wall of the room and their room was a little messy so a small smile crept onto his lips for he reminds Blue telling him kids are just kids, babe, and they are messy and so is your wife, so you gotta get used to it. 

Baby Ana’s deep breaths soothe his heart as he watches his youngest baby’s cherry mouth opened buried under thick, pink lips just like her mum’s. Harry thinks she looks so much like Blue when she’s asleep but then she’d open her eyes and they would be a light green, just like his, and he never even dreamt about making someone so gorgeous. 

It might look weird from the outside, a man getting home after 16 hours of duty and watching his family sleep one by one but he’s so used to it he doesn’t question it anymore. If he gets home at night, he’d check on his sleeping babies and then he’d undress and get to bed next to his calm. 

She’s wearing one of his t-shirts and has her hands under her chin and looks like a little spoon even if the space behind her as remained unoccupied when she fell asleep. He smiles because that’s his spot and he feels his heart fluttering before he finally feels the soft mattress under his heavy lengs and he rests his head on the pillow, inhaling her scent through her soft natural hair and he gently places a hand on her waist, not wanting to disturb her, but in a second her hand find his and she takes them to her chest so he’s fully holding her. He smiles behind her, he’s not sure whether she’s awake or not, so he just presses a kiss against her cotton covered shoulder and let sleep take over him. 

He doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep for when he hears his youngest whimpering from her nursery but Blue’s already not in bed. Her spot is still warm though. He sinks his head on the pillow and stares at the ceiling only illuminated by the white moonlight coming in through the window and he waits for some minutes but when she doesn’t settle, he gets up and makes his way down the hall and towards his daughter’s nursery. 

His wife is holding her and she’s rocking her and whispering sweet nothings but the little one doesn’t stop crying so he notices, his wife is crying too. 

“Come on, lovie.” Her voice croaks. “I don’t know what you want...” 

Her hand cups her daughter’s cheek as she rocks and shushes her but she wonders why does it seem so hard for them to get along. She’s raised two boys already and even though they were indeed allergic to sleep at some points, she always calmed them down... With Ana though, she doesn’t seem to get it. 

“I don’t know what you want...” She repeats. “You’re not sick.” She whispers. 

Harry places a hand on her shoulder and she flinches scared. 

“Sorry” He whispers. 

She gives him a small smile and shakes her head. He won’t say he likes seeing her crying because he doesn’t, he hates it, but he likes that she’s not afraid to do that in front of him. His hand caress her shoulder warmly and she rests her head on his chest as she keeps rocking the fussy little one. 

“I’m sorry we woke you.” She whispers. “I just... I can’t settle her, Harry.” She cries too. “I don’t know what she needs, I... It took me forever to put her down last night and now...”

Her husband shushes her. He presses a kiss on her forehead and takes the baby from her and her cries become louder so he tells his wife to go back to bed. She needs to get out of there, she needs to stop watching her baby cry like that because it breaks her heart; it breaks her heart to think she might be in pain or hungry or scared and she can’t help her. Her baby girl doesn’t seem to find calmness on the arms of her own mother so she can’t help but feel like a failure. 

She makes her way inside the bathroom and she washes her desperate tears off with warm water before she has a look at herself in the mirror. She looks exhausted and she hasn’t played as much as she’d like with her boys today. She sent Hughie into the playroom earlier, right after dinner, because she just wanted to have a second of quiet and she feels terrible for that. She didn’t really listened to Dylan talking about that book he’s reading either, she pretended she did, but really she was thinking about the groceries she needed to get the following day; and God, she wished she would have listened to him. 

She wishes she was better. She knows they deserver better. All of them. The boys, the baby and her husband. She turns to the side so she can have a look at herself in the mirror. She hasn’t worked out in months and her belly hasn’t looked flat in more than a year and her hair is frizzy and her skin is dry and she has the darkest dark eyes she has ever even seen; and she’s a doctor, so that’s saying a lot. 

Tomorrow will be another day and she can plan everything again and she can have a schedule. She thinks Harry’s day off is tomorrow too so maybe he can take the children to Gemma’s and she can sign up at the gym or she can wake up at five, yeah, and have a run before the day starts. She doesn’t need time to read either, she probably spends too much time reading anyway, and instead she can actually play with her kids. She feels like she never really plays with them. 

She’s tiptoing along the thin line between sleep and reality when the door of their room half-shuts and her husband silently walks in. She doesn’t remember exactly when baby Ana had settled, but she knows it was him who calmed her down. She’s embarrassed but her hazel eyes meet his green ones and he’s giving her a warm smile despite the evident tiresome on his eyes. He’s been at the hospital working for more than 12 hours and she gets home to this... 

He leans closer to her and she wonders how he even has the will to do such a thing when she’s disguting and probably smells of milk, for her breasts still leak sometimes, and is the farthest thing from appealing she can think of. But he stills leans in and captures her dry lips with his on an innocent peck. He looks so good, he’s always had, and that two-days stubble look so good and she wants to cry again. 

“Go back to sleep, m’love.” He whispers. “Baby’s asleep too.” 

Her heart draws in. He put her down, she can’t even manage to calm her down. 

“Do you think I’m a bad mum?” 

Her hazel eyes bore into his and his heart breaks when he realizes she’s seriously waiting for an answer. So she really doesn’t know? She really thinks he might think that? 

“What are you talking about?” He frowns. “Where’s this coming from?” 

She turns her body so she’s facing the ceiling instead and her back is resting against the mattress. 

“Hughie said he liked daddy’s porridge better this morning” she starts “and I didn’t even know what he meant. I thought we did it the exact same way... And then Dylan was so excited telling me about his book and I didn’t pay attention to him” she sobs “and baby Ana, I think she just doesn’t like me.” She shrugs. 

“You’re her Mum.” Harry whispers. “Of course she likes you. She shushes faster with me because she can’t smell the milk but she wouldn’t go a day without you, I know that.” His fingers gather his wife’s tears as he keeps talking. “And Hughie just meant cinnamon because the other day we ran out of honey so I added cinnamon instead and he loved it. I must have forgotten to mentioned it to you. And about Dylan... Dylan tells you every little thing that comes to his mind, it’s normal that sometimes you disconnect, baby.” He chuckles and despite her tears she chuckles along. 

“He’s a very smart boy.” She says. “He thinks a lot and he’s pretty imaginative.” 

“I wonder who he got that from...” He jokes and she smiles at him. 

“I’m sorry.” She confesses. “I’m sorry that you get home to a wife who looks like she doesn’t know where the mirror is and who can’t manage to calm her own freaking baby and who... doesn’t even let you sleep at night with her senseless drama.” She rolls her eyes. 

“Hey” his fingers gently grip her chin and he makes her look into his eyes “I love you” he reassures her “like crazy and every hour I’m just counting how much longer until I get to be with you, okay? So don’t think that. Please. I love you, Blue and I’m so fucking glad and lucky for having you and the family we’ve made together. I wouldn’t change a thing.” 

“Not even my muffin top?” She pinches her belly and he chuckles. 

“Not even. I think your body is perfect.”

“No, you don’t.” She laughs. “I’m chubby.”

He rolls his eyes before he hovers her and pins her against the mattress. His lips smash against hers in an almost teenage way and she feels that same fire on the pit of her stomach, much like she did fourteen years ago and he feels like a hormoned boy, despite his forty-one years of life and he thinks he’ll always feel vulnerable and desperate for her. 

“I thought we were past this, love.” He whispers against her lips. “You’re the sexiest woman on Earth.” 

His hand moves down to her ass and he squeezes her flesh making her smile. 

“And you say you never lie.” 

“That’s right.” He kisses her again. “I don’t.” 

“I love you.” She says against her lips. 

“I love you too.” 

He aligns his hips with hers. His right hand supports his weight on the mattress next to her head while the other squeezes her flesh on her ass and hips. He’s never been able to understand why or how she could ever get insecure and during their time together, it’s true she’s gotten a lot better, but she has still sometimes been insecure about her body and he’s hated every time. 

But they understand each other; they’ve had for years and he’s never stopped wanting to be close to her. Ever. His hand moves down to her belly and he slips his fingers under the hem of her sweatpants and her knickers, feeling how wet she is on his fingertips. 

“Mhm, baby” He hums against her lips. 

“Yeah, embarrasingly wet, I know” she giggles “you’re so hot, H, there’s nothing I can do.” 

He laughs against her mouth. Is that what she really thinks? Well, he attracts female’s attention, he’s not an idiot, he notices that; but he’s getting some grey hairs now too and she’s still six years younger, like she’s always been, and she really is the most beautiful woman he knows. He’s seen his coworkers staring at her and her own students whispering about it when she gets a male one in practice. But somehow, she sleeps in his bed every night and she could leave but she doesn’t so she must feel the same way. 

His fingers thrust inside her and she arches her back and moans. He keeps kissing her and is amazed at how in these moments, it feels like time haven’t passed. She’s the same Blue and he’s the same Harry but they’ve moved in together, they’ve gotten married, they’ve done surgeries together, they’ve had three kids, they’ve bought a house, he’s been sick and she’s taken care of him; she’s been sick and he’s taken care of her; and he wouldn’t change her or anything they have together for anything in the world. 

It’s in these moments too, when Blue doesn’t feel like she has to be better or like she’s not doing enough; she is enough. She’s more than that. She’s what he wants and she’s what she wants too and everything is fine. She’s lucky, she’s so damn lucky for the family she has and for the husband she married and for everything else. 

His fingers speed up and she sinks her head on the pillow so his mouth attacks her neck and she moans louder. 

“Baby, we’re gonna wake Anie up.” 

“Then be quiet.” He whispers on her ear. 

She giggles at that and his teeth skim her skin as he grins but his fingers keep moving in and out of her and he’s touching just that place she loves and she needs him so bad. She loves him and she wants him and she so desperately wants to feel him stretching her like every other time he’s had her before. 

“Baby” she moans “if we wake her up...”

“We won’t.” He whispers. 

“It’s so hard to put her down...”

“Yeah, I know, it really is hard to put this down.” 

She giggles again and he chuckles at his own joke but his fingers keep bringing her to the edge and her nipples are getting harder as she bites her bottom lip. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He smirks, already knowing the answer. 

“No” She gasps “but you should.” 

“There’s something down here that doesn’t agree.”

He chuckles as her walls start throbbing around his fingers and her back arches as she feels her mind leaving her body and strong waves pushing all her stress out of her too. 

Harry smiles and rests his forehead against hers. 

“Better?” 

She nods. 

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” 

She nods again and her hands cup his jaw as she kisses him deeply. He’s a sucker for these kisses, when her tongue pushes inside his mouth and she lets him know how much he means to her. 

“But we might wake Anie up...” He grins. 

“Oh, shut up and fuck me.” 

He laughs. 

He takes her sweatpants and knickers off and she does the same with his white boxers. His hard lenght springs free and hits her wetness and he circles his hips so she can feel him adding pressure on her. His hands grip her waist and she knows he’s seconds away from thrusting inside her so she takes a deep breath and gets ready to take him and like that his manhood slips inside her inch by inch and she throws her head back and sighs.

He pushes in and out of her slowly and her hands stick to his shoulders and his biceps as she pulls him closer. Her soft fingers tangle on his hair and she pulls from it so his mouth covers hers and he bites on her full bottom lip. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He whispers and despite the years, he sounds so sexy to her, he always does when he wants to. 

“Yes.” She gasps. “But I want more.” 

She feels him smiling against her mouth and supporting his weight on her waist, he threads her onto him again harder and faster and her head spins until she’s afraid it might turn molten. She feels her own bowels bouncing inside her and the screams get stuck on her throat as he keeps pushing in and pulling out of her. 

“Don’t stop, Harry, don’t stop.” 

“Fuck.” 

Her low moans mix with his grunts and her hands travel across his skin, almost marking him when he hits the right spot and his hands hold her waist as he pushes inside her. He only feels like this when he’s fucking her and that’s why he’s addicted to her because this is the best feeling in the world, when his heart flutters and he can feel his pulse on his temples and his skin is covered in sweat and goosebumps and he can feel the urge to cum on his spine. He loves her. He loves this woman with everything he has and everything he doesn’t. 

“That’s it, love.” She whispers on his earshell. “Fuck me, I needed this so bad. I fucking love you, H.” 

“Fuck” he grunts “I love you.” 

She holds his shoulders close to her chest and they gasp into each other’s mouths as he keeps pounding inside her. She can feel the weight of overwhelming pleasure falling over her and she can think of nothing other than him and the way he sounds and the way he smells and how he’s touching her inside. Her legs tremble around his hips. 

“Come on, baby” He whispers “Cum for me.” 

He’s close. He’s so fucking close, he’s not sure he can hold it in anymore. Yet he wants to feel her. He knows she needs this but he needs her just as much. 

“Cum with me, baby.” 

She does and she feels his hot, sticky cum filling her and a wide smile draws on her face and she sinks her head on the pillow but he pulls from her chin so he can kiss her and he does it deeply and slowly and she can feel it, how much he loves her, and she just loves him back. 

They don’t say anything else until they fall asleep tangled up on one another. 

The four of them are awake when she wakes up and as she makes her way to the kitchen, she can’t help the little smirk on her face. Harry made sure she could sleep in and that alone warms her heart so walking inside the kitchen and finding her little smurfs sitting on the table helping their daddy make breakfast drives her crazy from love. 

Baby Anie jumps on Harry’s hip and stretches her arms out for her and she feels her heart about to explode with love for the little angel. It seems like they’re back to being friends. Harry gives the baby a look before his eyes meet with hers. They smile, sharing the secret of what happened hours ago in their bed, and she mouths a silent thank you and he mouths back love you. 

She takes the baby from his hip and pecks his lips swiftly and her boys look up from the pancakes and smile at her. 

“Morning, mummy!” Dylan hugs her waist and her fingers caress his dark straight hair as she hugs him close. 

“Morning, dear. Morning, Hughie.” 

“Morning, mummy!” Hughie grins. “We made pancakes!”

“Yeah, they smell awesome! Thank you, boys!”

“And read, read what we wrote on them!” Dylan cheers. 

“Dy wrote it!” Hughie explains with evident proud on his voice and she smiles down at him. 

On the pancakes, on wobbly Nutella 5-years-old boy’s handwriting, can be read “Best mummy ever” and a heart and her eyes get teary because she hasn’t been feeling that lately. She gives Harry a look as if saying don’t do this to me in front of the kids but he just grins and shrugs as if he hadn’t orchestrate the whole thing. 

“I drawed the heart!” Hughie catches her attention and she smiles at him. 

“It’s drew, Hugh” Dylan corrects him “you drew the heart.” 

“Yes, I did.” He smiles. “Chopsy mixed the flour.” 

He had come up with that nickname for his baby sister on his own and his mum had grown to love it, sometimes calling her Chopsy herself. 

“You did such a great job, my lovely.” Her voice almost croaks. 

And Dylan, being the oldest of them three, even if he was just five years old, tilted his neck up so he can look into his mum’s eyes. She gives him a smile but he can somehow see it, even if he doesn’t fully understands, he kind of knows so his small hand rests on top of hers.

“You really are.” He whispers. “The best mummy ever.” 

Her lip trembles and she has to chuckle so she doesn’t freak the little boy out when she wipes her tears away. 

“Thank you, baby.” She kisses his cheeks and his little arm wraps around her shoulder. 

Baby Anie’s hand gently slaps her brother and he shuts his eyes when their mum starts laughing. 

“I love you.”

Blue kisses her boys’ foreheads and they both start eating while she sets Anie on her high chair. Her husband is moving around the kitchen, setting his and his wife’s forks and their cups of coffee, when she presses her hands on his chest and stops him. 

“And you too.” She smiles. “I love you so much.” 

[lareinenoir]

The Knots (Chris Evans Fanfic)

Warning: swearing

Summary: You receive an email from your boss that says your hairstyle is not professional to be on TV. When Chris finds out, he isn’t to happy.

_________

“Hey baby.” Said Chris walking into the house, hugging you from behind as you stood over the stove, continuing to make stir fry. “How was your day?” He asks, leaning on your shoulder and laying a small kiss on your neck. 

“Fine.” You sighed and you toss some of the pork to Dodger who was laying on the ground right next to you. 

“Fine?” He questions with a head tilt and a small frown. “What happened?” He asks as you move the pan and walk over to the rice cooker to the other side of the island to the rice cooker. 

“Nothing, it was just a long day.” You smiled giving him a tiny spoonful of rice to try. “Good?” You asked quickly changing the subject and smiling at him as he nodded. “How was the shoot?” 

“It went really well” He chews, stealing another bite and nods up at the towel on your head. “ I didn’t see you on the news today? That was today, right?” He asks remembering your shared calendar and the fact that you had circled it in a red marker, A red PERMANENT marker. 

“No, I read the date wrong.” You said as he looked up

“What happened? Didn’t you do your hair last night?” he asks recalling the long night you had with wash day being yesterday and the style you decided to put your hair in. “Why’d you take it out, I liked it.” 

“I found a different style. You ready to eat?” You asked grabbing some plates and started plating the rice and and the pork veggie stir fry on top. “You want some plantains?” You ask him as you continue to dodge his question of, ‘whats wrong.’ “We can eat outside or at the table?” 

“Baby, whats wrong?” He asks once again as you stuff your mouth with rice. “Come on, you hardly said anything to me about your day.” 

“Chris, I really just don’t wanna talk about it.” You say with a mouthful, accidentally on purpose slamming your fork down and walk away from the island. “Honestly!” You shout going into your shared room and slamming the bathroom door shut. 

Ever since your big chop two years ago, you had always just left it out in it’s natural fro and put some products in it and if you were feeling fancy a few decorative hair pins and in the past year now more than ever. Chris loved your new found love for hair pins and little hair jewelry and bought you some. You always wanted to try Bantu knots and trying them out was a big step. Your husband was super excited and helped you out yesterday when it came to the washing, condition and moisturizing. You both were off that day and took advantage of it. You and Chris watched movies and ate some food with Dodger of course, laying at your feet as you sat on the bed and he helped you section the back of your hair.

“You wanna unlock the door?” He asks in a low voice, you could tell he had his lips to the doorknob and you sighed. “Did I say something wrong?” 

“No, you didn’t say anything” rolling your eyes and you open the door after hearing how concerned he sounded. “I’m not mad at you, OK. I just really had a shitty day and I really liked my hair and I have to redo it and find a different style-” you wiped the little tear that escaped from your eyelid. 

“Wait, why?” he asks as you stand in the door frame and he stood in front of you with his hands on your arms, rubbing them up and down trying to comfort you. “Why are you changing your hair?” 

“I have to.” You sort of explain taking the towel off your head and grabbing the Shea moisture that stood on the end of the sink. “Go eat, never mind. Forget I said anything.” 

Chris shook his head at you as you began to part little sections adding some moisturizer. He narrowed his brow and let out a little laugh. “No, stop. Tell me what happened.” You knew how much your husband hated when you beated around the bush. Personally you just didn’t want to bother him with it, but you knew how caring he was and how would jump to help at every opportunity.

Good afternoon, 

Ms, Evans, you have been a  proud and responsible worker here on on Channel12. Your years of dedication and hard work have showed us nothing that we don’t know. As you may know when you started working for the Channel, you signed a contract that explained the dress code, which included the following, Males must wear a tie and a collared shirt with dress pants. Females must wear a skirt that goes no higher that the knee and a shirt that shows no cleavage. Pantsuits and suits for men and woman are permitted. No untamed hair is allowed while on the air. a warming will be permitted the first offence, the second is a write up, the third is suspension. Any other offences against the dress-code is automatic termination. With that being said, you will receive a write up for the untamed hairstyle that was chosen. Effective immediately it will need to be changed by tomorrow, noon, in order to be on the air. If the hairstyle is failed to be corrected, we will proceed with termination

please enjoy your day, 

Carter Rockman

“Chris, stop.” You said reaching for your phone. You saw the look in his eyes and he was livid. “Give it back, before you do something stupid.” You tell him as he holds your phone behind his back. His lips were tucked in as he stared at the ground. “Chris-” 

“What the hell is this?” he asks, finally looking up at you. Letting out a sigh, you shake your head. “I’m calling him, matter fact, I’m going up there right now. Grab your purse, we’re going right now-” 

“Chris stop.” You shake your head grabbing onto his arm as he went to grab the car keys from the counter. “This is exactly why I didn’t wanna tell you.” You said getting a bit frustrated and then laughing it off. “Don’t go up there-” 

“why not!” he said with a frown. “This is unacceptable.” He holds up your phone for emphasis. “You’ve been there for years. They can’t do this! On your ass because of your hair?” He scoffed.

“That’s just the way things are, babe.” You say, holding his face in your hands. The little beard he had going, made you smile down at his lips as you gave them a quick kiss. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll change my hair and get on with it. It’s not that big of a deal.” You said trying to reassure him. 

“Absolutely not! I come home to my wife who is upset and crying.” He retorts back shaking his head with a scoff. “You think I’m about to let this fly? Who is this man to tell MY wife that her hair is unprofessional and threatened termination because of it. Fuck that! They wouldn’t tell Viola Davis or Beyoncé or Tyra Banks or-“

“You don’t think I’m pissed too! I am beyond pissed, hell I’m more upset that I allowed it to happen anyway! People who look like me are judged all the time, especially with hair in the work industry. You of all people should know. There is nothing I can do about that. They aren’t going to change their minds because my husband says so. And even if they do, I don’t want them thinking just because my husband is Chris Evans-“

“I wouldn’t hold that against you and they sure as hell- they better not hold that against you.” He says still going off. “Why don’t you wanna fight this? It isn’t fair,babe...” he shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“ This isn’t Americas next top model. I’m not a model or an actresses or singer.” You shook your head. “I have to abide by the rules of my industry. If I act out or say ‘No’ or try and go against that, then I becomes the stereotype ‘Angry Black woman’.”

“Be angry! Baby, I don’t care.” Said Chris. “I’ll be there. We’ll be angry together-“

“That’s not the way it works.” You admitted holding onto his hands, giving him a pouty look. “I know theres a way to handle this, but I can’t risk my job.”

“Then quit.” He replied. “I provide way more than enough for us and Dodger.”He nodded over at the dog and you both laugh a little. Then he looks back at you and caresses your face. “You don’t need a job. I want you to be happy. That’s all.”

You brought him for a tight embrace as his arms wrapped around you tightly. You squeezed him and kissed his chest. “I love you.” You whisper as you both rocked back and forth. Pulling away you grin at him. “So, it’s five o’clock. I say we can finish some poetic justice braids in three hours if we start now.” 

“I’ll get the comb.” He replied as you head for your room. “And one more thing,” He tells you as you and your turn to look at him. “Your hair is beautiful. No matter what style it’s in.” He grinned

......

The End!

Hope you all enjoyed. Let me know if I should do a part II. Anyway, stay safe and healthy.

Xo- Fridai @allthingzhiddleston

@queenshikongo3 @thatoneperson5000 

@iam-laiya @victoriastefanie04 @arabescapr @pm-my-hubbies @honeymarvel @yanniebunny5151

@hookedinto-fictionalworlds @heartislubbingdubbing @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @nayr9e @kybaeza @multifacetedscorpio @naega-ooooooolf @schizonephilim @thatweirdwalangpake @grahoundart@kybaeza @nayrael @multifacetedscorpio@naega-ooooooolf @nirvanaslovechild @hisparadox @naughtybaroness30 @deansblackbeauty-deactivated202 @empressoftheundergroundsun @inlovewith3 @smartiedork @gerli49 @spookytyphoonbouquetsblog @angelicvixenn @wtfcantfindus @megapeacelovemusic-blog

[jaketism]

talk to me about transhet sam pleas

AHHHH YES OF COURSE OF COURSE ok so like. as a kid i think he was sort of. asocial and weird, he had long hair he didn't brush well and wore ratty zip up hoodies and t shirts and jeans, and he sort of. longed to be more tomboyish than he was but john had expectations for what his daughter would be like. i don't think he expected a girly girl or anything but shit like cutting his hair shorter than shoulder length and wearing cargo shorts was off the table. around middle school he started like. figuring out who to talk to at new schools, generally quiet boys who got picked on because girls were often mean or had already figured out where they fit into the social order. he played dnd sometimes, shit like that. i think he had a lesbian teacher at some point that encouraged him to come out of his shell a bit more and i think thats around when he chopped off all his hair in a motel bathroom by himself. in late high school he thought he was a lesbian, and he started dating girls, hooking up, shit like that. he wore 2 sports bras most days and lots of layers, hiding his chest and he was really abnormally tall and for a while it suited him. he was mostly happy as a baby butch, and the high of passing every once in a while was weird but far from unpleasant... but there was an underlying. tug towards not just masculinity but manhood that he couldn't articulate or figure out what to do with. he and john fought a lot, john sometimes used his masculinity or sexuality as an insult, shit like that. i think when he got to stanford he had the like. space to breathe and read gender theory and join a gsa or some shit and like. i think thats around when he first heard about being trans masc. i think it took like. 6 months between finding out about trans men's existence and realizing he was one, and he started t quickly after. and top surgery about a year after that. i think for a while he like. stopped dating anf eventually stopped like. even hooking up w ppl, because when yr pre t its rlly hard to feel like anyone takes your gender seriously, ESPECIALLY in fuckin! 2001-2005! and that shit sucks so bad. anyways after starting t and especially after top surgery he felt Way more at home in his body but also way more. free to interact with people. you dont realize how long youve been holding your breath til you start to let it go. he and dean had some weird weeks after dean came to get him. its weird to say goodbye to your weird little sister and then come to get her 4 years later and meet a man taller than you thats still definitely the kid you grew up with. dean doesn't like. get it exactly, but he's not a dick. he loves sam no matter what. he says the wrong thing sometimes, but he gets used to thinking of sam as a man quickly and after sam calls him on his fuckin. shitty jokes he drops them all together. one of these days i will make actual progress on my transhet sam fic. one day. also i think jess is bi and that makes him feel more comfortable than like. if she was a lesbian (obviously) or a straight woman (scary) and she was the first person he dated after he started dating again and even tho that like. could spell disaster it was a good relationship that they both found fulfilling <3

[paperbodiesamongthestars]

Day 30: Lily-of-the-valley

Hey! We made it to the end of the Harringrove April Challenge! Read this one on AO3, or read all of my entries for the challenge!

The sunny April day when Neil seized up and starting clutching at his chest at the breakfast table wasn’t the best day of Billy’s life—that had come two months earlier, in Steve Harrington’s stupid plaid bedroom—but it was definitely in the top three. Well, top five, anyway—he’d had a run of good days in the last couple of months. 

Susan, as expected, fluttered around uselessly while Neil toppled from his chair and Max, also as expected, calmly continued eating her breakfast. It took a lot to faze her, these days, and Neil had started grabbing her arm, hard, when she did something he didn’t like. Which, Max being who she was, was often. For his part, Billy stared at his father thrashing around on the floor and tried to look like he was frozen in shock, but no one was paying attention to him anyway. Susan was focused on Neil, and Max glanced over at them only once before she went back to eating her cereal. By the time anyone got around to calling 911, it was mostly a moot point. Neil died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital of an acute cardiac arrhythmia.

The months after Neil’s death were strange ones in the Mayfield-Hargrove household. It turned out that Neil had quite a sizable insurance policy, so his death hadn’t put Susan in a difficult position the way Billy had been worried it would. Outwardly, life carried on much the same as before—Billy drove Max to and from school, and both of them were expected to be home for dinner nearly every night. In many other ways, however, the difference was profound. Susan cooked whatever she wanted, for one thing, and it turned out she was a decent cook when she wasn’t trying to make Neil happy. She hummed to herself as she moved around the house, and redecorated the living room, and joined a book club.

Billy’s shoulders gradually came down from around his ears when Susan didn’t immediately kick him out, and when he broke a glass in the kitchen two months after Neil’s death, he only panicked for a moment. Susan came out at the sound of shattering glass, and once she had established that Billy was okay, she got down on the kitchen floor with him and helped him clean it up. 

Max gradually lost the brittle edge she had started to pick up after she had walked in on Neil shoving Billy into a wall in December, and she smiled and laughed more freely than she had in months. Part of that was probably because Lucas was welcome at their house anytime, but the other part of it was because there wasn’t anyone around to get mad when she wanted to cut her hair shorter, or leave her door open while she listened to music, or tease her dumb step-brother.   

It wasn’t always easy, but it gradually got easier. The first time Susan tried to tell Billy he couldn’t go somewhere, he screamed that she wasn’t his real mom, and then stormed out and drove to Steve’s house, where he sat outside for so long that Steve came out and climbed into the passenger seat to hold his hand until he stopped shaking. When he finally got up the courage to go back to the house, the door was unlocked and the porch light was on, and the lock was gone from the outside of his bedroom door. Susan was sitting in the kitchen, waiting up for him, and the look on her face when he came in the door wasn’t anger—it was relief. 

“I may not be your real mom,” she said firmly, “but I am going to parent you, so you’d better get used to it.” Billy had always assumed that Max had gotten her fire from her dad, but it turned out that maybe she had gotten a little bit of it from her mom. Susan made him cook dinner for a full month after that, but she didn’t take his keys, or kick him out, or tell him he was a worthless piece of shit who didn’t deserve any of the nice things he had.  

The next time she told him he couldn’t go somewhere, he snapped at her instead of yelling, and then he stormed into his room and slammed the door shut as hard as he could, but he didn’t leave. He got dinner duty again and he had to clean the bathroom for a full month, but he found that he wasn’t even really that mad about it. 

By the end of the summer he hardly even bothered to tell Susan that she wasn’t his real mom anymore, and he hadn’t slammed his door in ages. He just rolled his eyes and did what she told him to do because she continued to demonstrate that she gave a shit about him, for some reason, and Billy didn’t hate that nearly as much as he thought he would. 

Partway through September, Billy was reluctantly dragging himself out of Steve’s bed, and Steve was, as usual, not helping. 

“I have to go home, baby,” Billy said, leaning back in for yet another kiss. Steve pulled back and smiled at him, bright and happy. 

“You’ve never called it that before,” he said, and Billy frowned at him. 

“What?” he asked, confused.  

“You always say that you have to go back to the house,” Steve said. “You’ve never called it home before.” 

“Oh,” was all Billy could manage to say. He flushed and looked away. Steve sat up and pulled him close, pressing a kiss to his temple. 

“I think it’s really nice,” he said. “It makes me happy that it feels like a home to you now.” Billy didn’t say it out loud, but it made him happy too. 

Steve was in the kitchen at Billy’s house on a cool October Saturday, using a serrated knife to slice around the top of a pumpkin. He was telling Dustin and Will a story, as animatedly as ever, and it took a moment for Billy, absorbed in scooping the seeds out of his own pumpkin, to register Steve muttering a quiet “Shit.” By the time Billy looked up, hands covered in pumpkin guts, Steve’s wrist and forearm were covered in blood. Billy scrambled to his feet, but before he could do anything Susan was there, wrapping Steve’s hand in a clean dishtowel. She had him raise the arm above his head to slow the bleeding, and held the towel firmly to the deepest part of the cut. 

Once the bleeding had slowed, she had the cut cleaned, disinfected, and bandaged in no time. She caught Billy watching her as she walked Steve efficiently through the process, and she flushed a little when she met his gaze. 

They didn’t talk about it until later that night, when the jack-o-lanterns were set up on the front porch and Max was off at a sleepover. Steve was asleep on the couch, bandaged hand tucked carefully above his head. He still looked pale, and Billy gently smoothed the hair back from his forehead. He didn’t realize Susan was there until she cleared her throat behind him. Billy stopped himself from snatching his hand back, and reached out to gently run his thumb over Steve’s cheekbone before he turned to her. She gestured toward the kitchen with her head, and he followed her. 

Billy sat quietly at the kitchen table while Susan made two mugs of tea. She slid one across to him and then sat down, eyes on her mug. There was a long silence. 

“You reacted quickly today,” Billy said quietly, and then he cleared his throat. “Thank you.” He hoped it conveyed what he wanted it to. She glanced up, her gaze drifting to where the top of Steve’s head was just visible over the arm of the couch, and she smiled a little. Then she looked back down. 

“I used to volunteer with kids a lot when Max was little. I guess the first-aid training never really leaves you,” she said. 

“So…” Billy said, and then trailed off. He wasn’t sure he could say it out loud. She saved him from having to. 

“So yes, I have always known that time is of the essence when dealing with a potential heart problem,” Susan said with a sigh. “I have also always been pretty decent in a crisis.” Billy just stared at her, remembering her wringing her hands while she stood over a twitching Neil, making no move toward the phone. 

“But…” Billy said helplessly. She shrugged. 

“Neil never did think I was particularly capable. It’s possible that seeing any competence at all on my part would have killed him right then and there,” she said drily, with a twist of her mouth that might have been a smile, and Billy almost choked on his tea. She looked up and calmly met his gaze. “I guess we’ll never know,” she said slowly. “Just like we’ll never know why Neil’s salad that night contained some finely chopped greens that no one else’s salad had.” Billy paled, but Susan reached across the table and placed a hand over his. “Things have been good, these past several months,” she said firmly. There was a very long silence. 

“Steve’s mom has a really beautiful garden,” Billy said, in what must have seemed like a complete non sequitur. Susan looked at him, a question in her eyes. “She grows all kinds of flowers,” Billy said, “including a large patch of lily-of-the-valley. She’s been warning Steve to stay away from it since he was just a kid.” He watched understanding dawn in her eyes. 

“I wondered why the dishwasher was running when I got back from the hospital,” she murmured. 

“I didn’t let Max touch anything,” Billy said. It was important to him that she know that. Susan nodded. 

“Well,” Susan said, finishing the last sip of her tea and standing up, “if you think it would be alright with Steve’s mom, maybe you could cut some from her garden sometime. They’re lovely flowers, and it might be nice to display them in the house.” Billy caught the little gleam in her eye and wondered, not for the first time, what it must have been like, being married to his dad. “Oh, and Billy?” she said as he carried his mug to the sink to wash it. He turned to look at her. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m going to bed. If you don’t want to wake Steve up to move him to your room after you think I’m asleep, you’re welcome to just sleep out here with him. It certainly doesn’t bother me.” Billy just stared at her. He could feel the blush spreading over his face and down his neck. The smile she shot him was almost, but not quite, a smirk. “Good night,” she said. 

“Good night,” he replied faintly as she turned and walked down the hall. He shook his head as he returned to the living room and his sleeping boyfriend. Who could have guessed that Susan was so full of surprises? Billy stretched out on the couch, and Steve snuggled closer to him with a soft, contented little sound, burying his face in Billy’s neck. Billy smiled to himself. The sunny April day when Neil died had been a good day, but it wasn’t in the top five anymore. It wasn’t even going to stay in the top ten for long, and not just because he had a perfect boyfriend. He also had a family, and a place that felt like a home. 

He’d bring Susan all the lily-of-the-valley she wanted. It didn’t bloom year round, but maybe she’d like a nice perfume. Or a throw pillow with the pattern on it. Steve would have some good ideas; Billy could ask him tomorrow, when they woke up together on the couch in Billy’s home. Maybe he and Steve could even get matching tattoos. After all, Steve and his patch of lily-of-the-valley had brought a lot of good into Billy’s life, by taking just one bad thing out of it.