#aside from the description ofc

[unhingcd]

🔪 i've had a helluva time with finding/editing docs, pages, carrds and allat since im mobile bound, but do y'all think it would work if i put their stats in the descriptions of their pinterest boards instead?? and then having their visages in one section, what they do for a living in another, quotes that describe their personality in another, etc.??? does my rambling make sense?? ahshshsksks , i would love any feedback/thoughts on this if possible, mi amors ♡♡♡

[thebearer]

follow me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: the bear needs a social media rebrand. sydney hired you, and carmen gets more than just followers after meeting you.

an: bad descript i'm sorry lol. basically you're a social media manager and carmen likes you lol or how you and carmen meet <3 also thinking this will be a part 1???? lmk if you want a part 2!!!

contains: reader is a social media manager. language. carmen denying himself happiness ofc. mentions of mikey. fluff, fluff, fluff!!!

“What the hell is this?” Sydney’s voice raised, brow raised even higher to heighten her suspicions. Maybe her disgust. 

After Carmen looked at the snarl on her face, he decided it was definitely disgust. 

“What?” Carmen shrugged, looking at the screen in front of him. “It’s the, uh, The Beef’s old Instagram.” 

“Right.” Sydney said slowly, blinking at Carmen obviously. “The Beef, and we are not that anymore. We are The Bear.” She scrolled for a moment. “They also haven’t posted since twenty-twenty, which is-” 

“-Well, Mikey ran it, alright?” Carmen huffed, glaring at Sydney with annoyance. “I just found the fuckin’ password on a fucking gum wrapper in a folder labeled ‘important shit’ so I don’t know what to tell you.” 

Sydney nodded slowly, looking back at the phone, before sighing deeply. “I know what you should do.” She said, typing on her phone. Carmen grunted, still looking at the piles of order forms for produce in front of him. “You need a social media manager, because Carm, this? It's not gonna work.” 

“Social media what?” Carmen’s brows creased, shaking his head. “I don’t- no, I don’t need to do that. I’ll just, I’ll get Gary or fuckin’ Sweeps or Fak to run-”

“No, no, Carmen, seriously? Look at this. There’s- oh my God- there’s a thing here that says bring your own plate and you’ll get a free drink, Carmen… What the fuck?” Sydney sighed, shaking her head at him. 

Carmen nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I-I’m thinking that was a, uh, a Mikey special.” He muttered, pinching his eyes shut. “I can’t afford to hire someone on the payroll for that long, ok? Not when I could hire another hostess or-or a runner.” 

“They only come in to revamp and get it started. Just a little kick start for now. To get us started.” Sydney explained, clicking on her screen. “Look, I have a mutual friend with this girl who’s really fuckin’ good, ok? She did Lobo’s that pizza place? Got them from two hundred to eighteen thousand followers in like two or three months.” 

Carmen’s eyes flashed, looking at Sydney with a raised brow. “Seriously? Fuck…” Carmen looked at the screen, the crisp photos, videos, fun and trendy- vibrant and alluring. He hated to admit it, but it was good. 

“Look, Carm, it’s free advertising, ok? You catch the influencers if it goes viral. Could really put this place out there.” Sydney countered. “It’d be a lot cheaper than paying for some shitty advertisement on the news that no one watches anyways. Could bring in a lot of business and attention.” 

Carmen’s fingers drummed against the counter, sighing sharply. “Fine, whatever, see if you can get her in and just��� Just tell me how much I need to put aside, alright? I’ll push the new glasses until then.” 

Sydney smiled triumphantly, nodding at Carmen. “Yes, Chef.” She saluted, walking out of the office. 

Three days later, you were standing outside of The Bear, newly opened, freshly renovated, and steady but not booming. “Uh, excuse me?” You waved through the window at the man in the beanie, looking at you carefully. 

“Hey, we’re closed until dinner, alright? But you can-” 

“Oh, no. I, uh, I’m not here for eating.” You cringed, shaking your head. “I’m looking for Sydney? Or Carmen? I’m the new social media person?” 

“Social media?” The man repeated, pushing the door open further. “Oh, shit! You’re the girl who does the, uh, Lobo and Avec!” 

“Yeah, I am.” You blushed, walking into the restaurant. 

“I love watching those reels of the asmr cutting the bread. Ugh, I watch it every night before going to bed.” The guy laughed, locking the door behind you. “Oh, I’m Marcus by the way.” 

You took his extended hand, introducing yourself, while you took in the fixtures on the wall, the art, the overall ambiance. “I am going to get Carmen, but you can stay right here if you want.” Marcus grinned, pushing the sliding doors open. 

You set your things down, pulling out your notebook, and looking around the restaurant. You knew that this was once The Beef, Sydney had sent you a few things about Carmen’s credentials and you looked up the rest. Impressed was an understatement, a guy your age that had ran the best restaurant in the world? Quite possibly was the best chef in the world or at least Chicago and needed your help? You were nervous, to say the least. 

Marcus called your name, making you jump slightly as you turned around. “Uh, so this is Carmen. He’s the owner, the head chef.” 

“Hi,” You were met with piercing blue eyes, hidden under a stray blonde lock of hair. Carmen’s hand reached for yours. “Nice to meet you. Sydney, uh, she couldn’t stop tellin’ me about your work. Thank you for helpin’ us out.” 

“No, no, thank you.” You reached for his hand, strong, a little rough, trying not to stare at his inked fingers. “It’s a pleasure to work with you. She told me a little about you, about the restaurant. It’s very impressive. Surprised you needed me.” You grinned. 

Carmen bit back a smile, looking down to hide his blush. Fuck, Sydney said you were good at your job, she failed to mention that you were so fuckin’ pretty too. Carmen could feel his heart fluttering in his chest, taking flight like he was a middle schooler again with a school yard crush. 

“So, if you have time, I want to go over some goals with you?” You say, gripping your notebook tightly. 

“Goals. Right, uh,” Carmen looked through the back doors. “Sydney is on her break, and-and my sister, Sugar- well, her name is Natalie, she’s like our manager. Richie too, uh, shit- I’m sorry that’s a lot of people, I know.” Carmen shook his head, an anxious laugh pealing out from his lips. “Those are the people you need to talk to, basically. I can grab them, just-” 

“-But you’re the owner, right?” You asked, lifting a brow gently. 

“No, I mean, yeah, I am.” Carmen stuttered. 

“Then I need to talk to you, too.” You gave him a small smile. “I mean, you know this place better than anyone, right? All the ins and outs? And from what Sydney told me, you redid this entire place. Right?” 

“Yeah, I did.” Carmen nodded. Fuck, he kept staring at your lips, he didn’t mean to, he was just… he was distracted. 

“So, we can all meet if you want, or I can do it one at a time.” You pulled your pen out of your notebook, looking at him with a gentle smile. It had Carmen’s heart racing. “I just have a few questions about the vision.” 

“The vision?” Carmen repeated, swallowing around the growing lump in his throat. 

“Yeah, the vision.” You smiled. “Just… tell me about this place. Tell me about you.” You slid into the chair across from him. 

Carmen wiped his hands on his pants, turning to look at the doors, hoping someone would come to his rescue. He wasn’t good at talking, especially not to pretty girls, especially about himself. Still, he couldn’t leave you sitting there. He’d hired you after all, and you were here to help him. So he sat down across from you, hoping you didn’t see the way his knee bounced under the table, hoping you couldn’t hear how his heart pounded. 

“So, Carmen Berzatto,” You grinned, every syllable of his name rolling off your tongue so sweetly, Carmen was sure he was going to faint. “Tell me about The Bear. Why did you start it?”

“Well, it was The Beef before. And-And my parents owned it, then my brother Mikey did…” Carmen started, watching the way you scribbled, eyes flickering to him with a small smile.

“Hello!” You called, pushing through the back door. They’d given you the code a week ago, so you didn’t have to wait or pound on the front door until someone took mercy and let you in. “It’s content day!” You sang, cheery and bright. 

Carmen could hear the pretty trill of your voice, trickling down the hall and into the kitchen. Tina smirked, watching the way he stopped, turning to look at you, blush rising under his white shirt. “Hey, Jeff,” Tina smirked, his head snapping to her. “Your girl’s here.” 

The staff had been teasing Carmen relentlessly about how smitten he was with you. Something he’d been so reluctant to do, he now looked forward to. Carmen swore it was because of your work. You had taken them from the measly six hundred followers they’d had since they started the account in twenty-eleven to six thousand, strategic posts and tags and tagging a few buzz accounts that were Chicago foodies. Business had gone up, reservations filling slowly. Followers poured in from TikTok, from the reels, from the posts. One tag from a micro Chicago influencer had brought in a good chunk and was still, all because of a photo with the pretty light features and the dessert. 

“Where’s the Bear?” You grinned, passing Sydney, camera in hand, bag slung over your shoulder. You pushed open Carmen’s office, dropping your bag in there. He’d told you that you could keep your things in there, since you didn’t have a locker, of course- and not at all because that meant he’d see you before you left. 

“He’s in here, baby!” Tina called, smirking at Carmen. 

“C’mon,” Carmen shook his head, a deep breath to keep him from looking so flushed. It worked for a moment, of course, until you rounded the corner. All bright smiles and fuck, you smelled so good. Camren wanted to drown himself in your perfume. “Good morning, Bear.” You beamed. 

Carmen grinned, cheeks heating with every step you took forward. “Mornin’.” He muttered, looking at the clock. 

“It’s content day.” You grinned, shaking your camera lightly. “Tell me you got something good for me, Chef. What's the special this week?” 

“A lamb tenderloin with a gorgonzola sauce served over pasta- house made, of course.” Carmen answered. 

“Of course.” You repeated with a tiny grin. You turned on your camera, taking a test shot, before you looked at Carmen carefully. “Ready whenever you are, Chef.” 

Carmen bit back his own grin, clearing his throat lightly. “How do I start it? The same as last time?” 

“Yep.” You nodded, pressing the camera to your eyes. “Tell me your name, name of the restaurant, and then just this week's special.” 

“On your mark.” Carmen nodded, picking up his clean utensil. 

“On yours.” You laughed. “I’m already recording.” 

Carmen spoke to the camera easily, trying to stay trained on the lens and not at you. How you’d grin and nod encouragingly at him, zooming in closer as he chopped, seasoned, pulled the already prepared and finished product out of the oven. 

Richie crossed his arms, leaning against the wall next to Sugar, lips pursed knowingly. “I know you’re thinkin’ the same shit as me.” 

Sugar hummed. “That Carmen’s into her?” 

“Way fuckin’ into her.” Richie grinned, watching as Carmen blushed, grinning back at you, genuine and a little shy at your compliment. 

“Fifty bucks says he doesn’t make a move.” Sugar looked at Richie. 

Richie snorted, scoffing with a shake of his head. “Alright. I’ll take your bet. I say he does.” 

“Get ready to be out of fifty dollars, Cousin.” Sugar said smugly. “This is Carmy we’re talking about. Not Mikey. Carmen’s not gonna make a move on her.” 

“Eh, not so quick, my dear, Natalie. Carmen’s changed a little since this place.” Since the horrendous freezer incident with Claire. “He really likes her too, look at ‘em.” Richie nodded, watching as Carmen held the spoon out for you, blushing when your hand touched his to take it, groaning before smothering him in compliments. Tina looked at Richie, amused and grinning from across the room. 

“Carmen will seal the deal. It’ll be last fuckin’ minute and it will be a mess, because it’s fuckin’ Carmen, but… I believe in him.” Richie nodded. 

Natalie snorted. “I genuinely hope you’re right, Cousin.” She looked at Carmen with a small smile, watching the way he looked at you, eyes cutting like he was being so cool about keeping his feelings underwraps. “I really do.” 

That night, Carmen lied in bed, scrolling through his footage from the day, seeing the video pop up from @/thebearchicago. Set to classical music, snobby and dramatic, the cuts, Carmen’s voice laid over describing the meal for the week, and a particularly good close up of his hands cutting the onions fiercely. Carmen was shocked to see the number of likes… the number of comments flooding in. 

“the cameraman knew exactly what they were doing lmao”

“New necklace available!!!” 

“I will give you my vital organs and let you chop them up like that if you let me watch chef please” 

“What the fuck?” Carmen snorted lightly, shaking his head, scrolling through the comments. He clicked to the main page of the restaurant, seeing you were just a few away from ten thousand followers. Fuck… Sydney was fucking right. You were good. 

Carmen’s face fell, mind racing and screaming with the reminder that you were only there for a few more days. He’d only hired your for two months- two glorious fucking months. You seemed… permanent now. Like he couldn’t imagine you not coming in on Tuesdays and Thursdays and after three on Fridays. You were a staple there. The staff loved you, you were good, and-

And Carmen really liked you. Liked having you around. Looked forward to talking to you. To get the chance to lean over your shoulder as an excuse to touch you when you showed him a preview of a post. Or when you’d send him cute text messages, a funny comment attached, your text reading: “you’re a hit, bear! they love you!” 

It was like you could read his mind, your contact flashing across the screen at him. 

To: Carmen 

‘told you this would be a good one! the fans love you berzatto!!!’ 

Carmen grinned, the faint twinge of a blush on his face. He could feel his heart racing, fingers dancing over the keyboard, and worst of all- he could hear Mikey’s fucking voice in the back of his head. A nagging tone repeating over and over and over, “Let it rip, Bear! Don’t be such a pussy! Ask her out!” 

Carmen looked at his screen, fingers typing out the message, a short, less than smooth invite to make you a special thank you dinner and his place- a date. He hoped you picked up on it. Heat hammering in his chest, he could feel his chest tighten, ribs knitting together uncomfortably, stomach twisting in the worst way. 

So, Carmen did what he always did. 

From: Carmen 

‘Never doubted you. Thank you. The video was great.’ 

He watched as the blue sent, the delivered turning into seen, and followed by your thumbs up over the text. Carmen put his phone on the table, lying back on his pillow, but he couldn’t sleep. His stomach still turned, unsettled with regret. 

“Oh! Marcus stop!” You gasped, Carmen’s head turning at the sound of your voice. “You didn’t need to do all of this!” 

“Yeah, I did.” Marcus beamed. Carmen turned the corner, seeing a beautifully piped cake there, candles and icing cursive that read “thank you!” in the middle of the buttercream. “You’re cool and you got us on the map, girl. Plus, we’re gonna miss you.” 

“Yeah,” Sydney nodded, holding a small balloon that said that exact phrase on it. “We will miss you.” 

“I’ll miss you guys.” You grinned, hugging them both tightly. “This has been my favorite job so far. You guys have been so nice. Way nicer than a lot of these assholes around here.” You grinned. 

Richie stood on the wall, foot tapping, eyes darting back from you to Carmen. He could see his cousin’s stuttering movements, hesitant and careful, before retreating back into himself. C’mon, Carm, fuckin’ do it, Richie thought, shaking his head. Carmen wouldn’t though, wouldn’t let himself be happy. Richie took a deep breath, head shaking with annoyance. 

“Goddammit, Berzatto,” Richie muttered, pushing off the wall. “You know, sweetheart, it’s been so great having you. Seriously, you blew us all away.” Richie said, walking towards you. 

You smiled. “Thanks, Richie. I really appreciate it.” 

“And you know what, we want to really show how much we appreciate you.” Richie’s eyes cut to Natalie, a silent plea to help him out. “I had a cancellation for this evening, and I would love for you to come instead. Let us really cook for you, give you the whole experience. No bill, of course. All on the house, for you, my dear.” 

“Oh, I-I couldn’t let you guys do that.” You shook your head politely, eyes cutting to Carmen’s. 

“No-No, please.” Carmen nodded, finally speaking. Richie sighed silently in relief. “It would be great actually. Please?” 

You felt your heart melt, nodding softly. Before you could even reply, Richie was stepping up again. “And you know what? You gotta do one last post for us, right? The big chef spotlight one. The, uh, c’mon, Sydney what am I lookin’ for here?” 

“Oh, the one about the staff spotlights?” Sydney asked. 

“That’s the one. See, that’s it. And you’ve done everyone except the big boss.” Richie pointed at Carmen, ignoring the way the younger man’s face fell. 

“I didn’t get one-” Fak started, Richie shoving him out of the way. 

“You gotta end with Carmy, and it's funny because it’s gonna be real slow tonight anyways. Wednesday, ya know? And I think what better way to experience the night, really craft that staff spotlight thing, than with Carmen. The two of you, have dinner and get to talk.” Richie knew it was rocky, not at all smooth, but it was the best he could do. 

“What? Cousin, what are you-” 

“-No, you’re right, Richie.” Sugar added, stepping towards Carmen, and cutting him off. “And Carm, you were saying you wanted to see everything in action for yourself. You do the customer experience so you make sure everything’s good, and we’ll serve you both dinner. All the stops.” 

“How’s that sound?” Richie clapped his hands together, nodding at Tina, who grinned. 

“Jeff, it would be really nice to make sure we can work without your instructions. A good night for it too.” Tina added. 

“Yeah, and Sydney’s got it.” Richie nudged the girl beside him. 

“Totally, Carm- uh, Chef. I’ve got it.” Sydney nodded, catching on to Richie’s glare at her. 

Carmen felt like he could melt into the floor, face red and palms sweaty. His ears were ringing, tongue swelled thick in his mouth. You looked over at him with a small smile. “I mean, that does sound really nice. If-If it’s ok with you guys, you don’t have to-” 

“-Oh no,” Richie shook his head, walking over to Carmen to clap him on the shoulders. “We insist, don’t we, cousin?” Richie laughed, leaning down to Carmen. “Don’t fuckin’ stand there like a jagoff, say somethin’.” He whispered. 

“Yeah.” Carmen said, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat. “It’s, uh, yeah. That-That sounds great.” 

“Wonderful.” Richie beamed. “Six o’clock sounds good for you kids? Give you enough time to get it together.” Richie looked from you to Carmen. “Maybe for some of us to take a shower.” 

Carmen could feel the heat rise from his neck to his cheeks, covering him in a furious blush. You giggled. “Definitely gives me time to get a blow out.” You laugh. “See you at six then?” 

“It’s a date.” Natalie added, practically bouncing on her toes behind Carmen. 

Carmen glared at her, before turning back to you. “Yeah, I-I’ll see you then.” 

[bamfkeeper]

Reunion.

RQ: 'I was hoping for some hurt/comfort 🙏🏽. I was never really satisfied with Kurt and Amanda's reunion after he came back to life(aside from the fact that that ship gives me a major ick for ibv reasons). It was so anticlimactic! You would think a woman who knew him all his life would she'd a few tears. I was wondering what your take on a reunion scene with Kurt would be? Like the reader was a member of the X-Men and saw Bastion kill Kurt. Because of her grief she leaves the team unable to cope from the loss. And then after years of being without him he just shows up at her apartment just like he did with Amanda.' - @gildedjerk

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x GN!reader

Warnings: Major character death | Descriptions of injuries | Mourning & grief | Happy ending ofc

A/N: Wooo I had a lot of fun with this one. Angst and comfort, yum. Anyway I did try to give a realistic response to him coming back from the dead. I was stuck between two reactions but I think this one is good. I hope you enjoy! Unedited hehe WC: 3.0k

It had only been a week. A week since your heart became slow, dull, and empty.

The mansion took a hit. The team broken into pieces.

It was unusually quiet around the manor. Normally, the sound of padding footsteps and excited laughter and voices filled the halls, but now...it was silent. You weren't' the only one that lost something, but by all hell, you deserved to grieve.

You hadn't left the bedroom you shared for days, your body curled tightly on the bed, clutching his suit against your chest as if it were a lifeline. Tears flowed endlessly, soaking the pillow beneath your head. The salty streams seemed inexhaustible, leaving your eyes red and swollen, leaving you with a constant headache you ignored. You were likely severely dehydrated from the constant outpouring of grief, but in your state of mourning, those concerns held no importance to you. All you desired was to be left alone with your sorrow, to process the loss in solitude.

His suit bore a large, jagged hole, Kurt's dried blood stained the fabric, a sight that simultaneously pained you and kept you connected to him. You couldn't bring yourself to wash it, fearing that doing so would erase the last tangible traces of his presence. The suit still carried his distinct scent, a bittersweet comfort that you clung to desperately. No amount of spraying with cologne could ever bring back his natural musk that he had, and you would rather die than get rid of it.

Embedded within the flexible fabric were tufts of his fur, some parts adhering more stubbornly than others. As you ran your fingers over these patches, you recalled with a mixture of fondness and anguish his playful complaints about how the suit would cause him to shed. Those light-hearted moments now seemed like echoes from a distant, happier time, making the overwhelming ache of his absence feel much worse.

The team struggled to regroup, attempting to rally support and formulate a plan of action in the aftermath of the blatant slaughter they endured. However, you found yourself emotionally paralyzed, unable to contribute to their efforts. The weight of loss and despair settled heavily upon your shoulders, making even the simplest tasks seem insurmountable. In a daze, you rose from your seat, your movements mechanical and detached from conscious thought. You were on autopilot, nothing else mattered, you couldn’t even think.

You began to pack your belongings, carelessly tossing clothes into a small bag without regard for order or neatness. Your fingers then ghosted over the familiar fabric of his suit, the last tangible remnant of Kurt's presence in your life. With reverence, you gently lifted the garment, cradling it against your chest as if it were a fragile, living thing. This suit, once a symbol of his strength and selfless heroism, now served as a poignant reminder of all you had lost. As you held it close, memories of Kurt flooded your mind, intensifying the ache of his absence and solidifying your decision to depart.

You had no tears left. Not right now.

You took your bag and you left.

The nightmares were relentless, haunting your sleep with disturbing frequency. Night after night, your subconscious mind replayed the horrific scene of Kurt's demise, each detail etched with painful clarity like you were reliving that exact moment over and over again. The vivid imagery of Bastion's merciless act - the brutal impalement - refused to fade. You could still see, with sickening precision, the crimson spray erupting from Kurt's azure lips, staining his chest in a macabre pattern, the life essence dripping down his skin and mocking you. The memory of his lithe form, once so full of life and grace, suddenly tensing and then crumpling lifelessly to the ground as Bastion withdrew his weapon, was seared into your mind.

The physical sensations were equally intense. You distinctly recalled the disorienting waves of heat and cold that washed over you, and the violent tremors that wracked your body as adrenaline surged through your system in rage fueled torrents. The emotional trauma was blatant, manifesting in physical symptoms that left you feeling drained and vulnerable, pathetically and frantically scrambling to get to his side in the middle of the battlefield.

The image of your final moments with Kurt were the worst of it all, your eternal Hell that never ceased. Holding his rapidly cooling body in your arms, you watched helplessly as the light in his beautiful, golden eyes gradually dimmed. Even in his last breaths, Kurt's selflessness shone through, as he valiantly attempted to offer you solace and comfort, despite his own dire circumstances.

Your grief and suffering was a wound that never healed. Each night proved that it would only reopen from the desperate scab it tried to become.

As the years passed, your close friends from the mansion persistently attempted to maintain contact with you, but you deliberately distanced yourself from them. The desire to communicate with them had completely faded, and you found yourself wanting to sever all ties with the X-Men.

Your sole focus became an attempt to carve out an existence devoid of the tumultuous chaos that had been an inherent part of life within that unconventional, misfit family. You couldn’t stand any more pain, the loss you took had been severe, thinking about any of your old friends losing their lives was too much to bear.

You retreated into a life of solitude, taking on a mundane and unremarkable job that offered little stimulation or fulfillment. It wasn't so much living as it was merely existing - a bare-bones survival that felt hollow but required.

Yet, in your current state of mind, this was all you felt capable of managing. The weight of your grief remained a constant companion, refusing to lift even as time marched relentlessly forward. The passage of years did little to alleviate the profound sense of loss that had taken root in your heart, leaving you trapped in a perpetual state of mourning that colored every aspect of your isolated existence.

You tried therapy, for a while.

It didn’t help much.

You were constantly bombarded with well-intentioned but ultimately unhelpful advice. People would tell you to move on, as if it were a simple switch you could flip.

They'd say he was in a better place now, as though that somehow lessened your pain.

They'd remind you that years had passed, implying that your grief should have an expiration date.

But none of these platitudes actually provided any comfort or solace. In fact, being told to move on was perhaps the most infuriating of all. It felt dismissive, insensitive, and completely disconnected from the depth of your loss.

The suggestion to move on ignited a spark of anger within you. How could anyone possibly understand the magnitude of what you'd been through? You couldn't even share the full story with them, the pervasive discrimination and prejudice against mutants still ran deep in society, and you weren't ready to expose that part of yourself.

But regardless of the details you had to keep hidden, the fact remained that you had lost the person who brought light and love into your world. It was as if the sun had been extinguished, leaving you in perpetual darkness. The audacity of someone demanding that you simply move on from such a profound loss was both hurtful and enraging. How dare they trivialize your grief and dictate the timeline of your healing? Your pain was yours to process, and no one had the right to tell you when or how to do it.

You came back from a rather dreary work day, annoyed and angry with the world. It felt so unfair. You wondered if Kurt would be disappointed in the sheer amount of hatred that you allowed to consume you. Did it matter?

As you closed your door, you trudged through your barren apartment, your footsteps echoing in the emptiness. You hadn’t bothered to decorate, it was just you, and when you were home all you did was sleep. No reason to waste money on furniture.

Suddenly, a familiar scent wafted through the air - brimstone. That sharp, smoky odor that had haunted your senses for years now made its presence known once again. The acrid smell tickled your nostrils, bringing with it a flood of memories you'd rather forget. At first, you dismissed it as another phantom smell, a lingering remnant of Kurt that your mind conjured up in moments of solitude. After all, these olfactory ghosts had been your constant companions over the years, taunting and mocking you with their ephemeral nature.

You continued your way through the apartment, your mind wrestling with the reality of the scent. The logical part of your brain insisted it was just another trick of your senses, a cruel joke played by your subconscious. Yet, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered that something was different this time. The smell seemed more tangible, more real than the fleeting wisps of memory you were accustomed to. Still, you pushed the thought aside, convincing yourself it was nothing out of the ordinary.

You were just tired. It had been a long day.

As you rounded the frame of the door, preparing to step into the next room, an inexplicable chill ran down your spine. In that instant, you felt everything around you freeze up. The air grew thick and heavy, as if time itself had come to a standstill. Your muscles tensed, your breath caught in your throat as you looked at the familiar figure laying on your couch.

Kurt smiled at you, his familiar figure rising from his seat. His arms extended in a welcoming gesture, a warmth radiating from his presence that you hadn't felt in what seemed like an eternity. "Liebling...I've missed you so much," he murmured, his voice carrying the same tender inflection you remembered.

Every detail about him was overwhelmingly authentic - from the timbre of his voice to the subtle cologne mixed with that harsh brimstone that always clung to his clothes. Your senses were inundated with evidence of his reality; he wasn't just there, he was undeniably real.

A maelstrom of emotions surged through you, leaving you utterly bewildered.

What the Hell is happening?

The thought ricocheted through your mind, unable to find purchase in the face of this impossibility.

You found yourself frozen, incapable of formulating a coherent response. The shock of the moment had completely blindsided you, leaving you reeling as if you'd been struck. It was as though you were face to face with an apparition, a specter from your past that had inexplicably materialized before your eyes.

But this was no ethereal vision - this was tangible, corporeal.

The absurdity of the situation wasn't lost on you; if this was indeed some sort of phantasm, it certainly had a sick sense of humor.

Your lips parted as you let out a soft, trembling sound, his name barely a whisper escaping through the opening. Your eyes, wide with disbelief, were glued on him, taking in every detail of his familiar yet seemingly impossible presence. His demeanor faltered slightly as he noticed your lack of enthusiasm at his sudden appearance, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features.

"Ah, liebe...I...understand this might be quite shocking to you..." He mumbled out shyly, his voice a mixture of hope and apprehension as he slowly walked towards you, each step careful and measured. "But, I am back. I am truly here, alive and breathing. Can you see that?"

You remained rooted to the spot, unable to bring yourself to move a single muscle. The overwhelming tsunami of emotions that crashed over you felt like it was too much for your body and mind to handle. A wave of nausea washed over you, making you feel as though you were teetering on the edge of consciousness, your stomach churning violently. The sheer impossibility of the situation threatened to overwhelm you completely.

You couldn't fathom how he could be here, standing in your apartment, flesh and blood, after years of believing he was dead. The grief you had painstakingly lived with, the torturous reminders that mocked you every day - it all came crashing down around you in an instant, leaving you reeling in a maelstrom.

Kurt opened his mouth to speak, sensing the overwhelming shock that had gripped you. He anticipated a joyous reaction, but instead, a heart-wrenching, soul-shattering sob escaped your lips, echoing through the air and piercing the silence between you.

Taken aback, Kurt's body tensed, his eyes widening with a mixture of concern and confusion. This unexpected outburst was far from the jubilant reunion he had envisioned in his mind. The stark contrast between his hopeful expectations and the raw, emotional reality before him left him momentarily stunned.

You had always been strong and level-headed with your emotions, but seeing you like this made him realize his absence and sudden appearance again had clearly done some psychological damage. "L-liebling," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with uncertainty and worry.

Hesitantly, Kurt extended his hands towards you, offering comfort and desperate support. However, the fear of exacerbating your distress held him back from actually making contact. His fingers hovered in the air between you, trembling slightly as he grappled with the desire to console you and the apprehension of potentially making matters worse.

Kurt bridged the gap between you with a single, desperate motion, not wanting to watch you sob any longer. His arms enveloped you, strong yet gentle, pulling you against his chest. You felt the solid warmth of his body, a sensation you had been deprived of for what felt like an eternity.

As he held you close, Kurt became your anchor to reality, proof that this wasn't just another cruel dream. His familiar scent washed over you, a mix of brimstone and something uniquely him, further cementing his presence. "I'm here, liebe... I'm here," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Es tut mir Leid... I never intended to be absent for so long, but... the circumstances of my return are a mystery even to me. Perhaps this is a divine gift, a second chance from Gott…a miracle. Ja?"

His words were soft, barely above a whisper, yet they resonated deeply within you. "I cannot imagine the anguish you've endured in my absence," he continued, his accent more pronounced in his emotional state. As he spoke, his hand moved in soothing circles on your back, a gesture so achingly familiar it threatened to unravel you completely.

In the safety of his embrace, years of bottled-up emotions finally found their release. The dam broke, and you allowed yourself to experience the full depth of your agony, your body shaking with the force of your long-suppressed grief. Kurt held you through it all, a steady presence as you wept the tumultuous sea of your emotions, whispering words of comfort and love in a mixture of English and German.

You don't know how long you cried for.

You felt your body gradually succumbing to exhaustion, your strength ebbing away with each passing moment. What seemed like mere minutes to your grief-stricken mind had, in reality, stretched into over an hour of uncontrollable sobbing. Throughout this emotional display, Kurt remained steadfast, his arms encircling you in an unwavering embrace, not daring to let you go. He bore witness to your anguish, listening intently to every heart-wrenching wail that escaped your lips, each cry a testament to the depth of your sorrow and mourning. He felt so horrible, seeing just how much you loved him and how the grief had overtaken your being.

Kurt did everything in his power to provide solace. He held you close, gently squeezing you with his arms, whispering soft reassurances, each gesture carefully crafted to soothe you.

"I'm here now," he murmured, his voice a balm to your frayed nerves. "I'm not leaving. I promise..." His indigo lips grazed your sensitive temple while he whispered gentle nothings against your skin. The contact was feather-light, yet profoundly comforting. He peppered your clammy skin with tender kisses, unable to hold back on his affections.

The sudden nature of Kurt's reappearance left you reeling. After enduring the agonizing belief that he was gone forever, his unexpected return stirred up a complex cocktail of emotions - happiness, relief, anger. A part of you yearned for the joyous reunion he seemed to expect, but another part bristled at the simplicity of such an notion.

How could he materialize out of thin air, after all the grief and pain you had endured, and anticipate an uncomplicated, happy welcome? You supposed that is his specialty…appearing suddenly in a rapid purple cloud with that happy smile exposing his fangs.

Kurt wanted that happy reunion. He wanted you jumping in his arms and that loving, passionate kiss he dreamt of and missed since his departure from this plane of existence.

But you couldn't give him that. Not now.

For now, you needed his comforting presence more than anything else. Recognizing your emotional state, he gently lowered himself onto the couch, cradling you in his arms. His embrace was firm yet tender, providing a sanctuary where you could finally release everything that had been weighing heavily on your heart. As he held you close, you continued to sob and cry into his chest, each tear carrying with it a fragment of the pain and stress you had been harboring for so long.

Time seemed to stand still as you remained in his protective embrace, your sobs gradually subsiding as exhaustion began to overtake you. He made no move to interrupt this cathartic process, understanding that sometimes silence speaks louder than words. His steady heartbeat and warm presence served as a lullaby, slowly lulling you into a state of tranquility you hadn't experienced in years.

The conversation you needed to have could wait.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you found yourself drifting into a deep, peaceful slumber - a luxury that had eluded you for far too long. His presence alone had snuffed out the vicious plague that infected your mind, the nightmares that were forced upon you over and over of his gruesome death were destroyed.

For the first time in years, you actually slept.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight & @/strangergraphics

Cover image from Nightcrawler #1 (2014)

[keigosdear]

{bad idea... right? - kuroo t.}

yes I know that he’s my ex, but can’t two people reconnect?//…I just tripped and fell into his bed.

kuroo x fem!reader smut. exes to lovers. 18+ MDNI please.

in which you and your ex "reconnect" after almost half a year apart, but with so many unresolved feelings, it'll either end up being the best or worst idea you've ever had.

warnings: fem!reader, no physical description (aside from specific genitalia ofc). university setting. smut, mentions of alcohol/getting drunk but no drunk sex, lots of feelings/kinda mutual pining. praise kink, a little bit of voice kink, very brief jealous reader, cunnilingus, body worship, teasing, lots of pet names in lieu of y/n, soft dom!kuroo and sub!reader, very. very. soft, kinda emotional sex, aftercare and fluff towards the end. porn with a bit of plot/build up. this fic is my baby.

a trope I never thought I'd write plus a genre I've never written before? apparently so. it's my first time writing smut, so constructive criticism is welcomed, being rude is not. can you believe I started this over the summer ‘23 and I'm only posting it now?

and lmk if I need to add anything else to the warnings :)

divider credit to: @/cafekitsune

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

this truly had the potential to be one of your worst ideas yet.

you weren't even going to be at this damn party to begin with, but your friend finally convinced you to go with her after a week of wearing you down.

"it'll be fun, c'mon!" she begged.

the only reason you didn't want to go was because you were finally done with your first semester of classes and wanted to wind down in peace, not at a crowded house party filled with loud music and sweaty drunk university students.

but of course you relented when she pulled out the puppy dog eyes and played the "but we haven't hung out in months, I miss you!" card.

so there you were by the snacks and refreshments table, dressed up and nursing a drink, talking and laughing with your friends. truthfully, you were having a better time than you thought you would and figured that you had almost a month before classes started back up again to relax.

"soooo? has anyone caught your eye yet?" multiple faces focused their attention on you.

you knew part of the reason your friend had insisted on you going with her was to help you meet someone. she'd never admit it, but it was pretty obvious with the way she was pointing out people left and right, making note of how attractive they were. at one point she had even "accidentally" pushed you into one of her targets, which had made for some very awkward small-talk on your end with someone you had zero interest in and some giggling from her.

it's not that you were opposed to the idea of finding someone, but in all honesty, no one had caught your eye. recently you had gotten out of a long long term relationship, and starting over after that just seemed so... unappealing to you.

it also seemed unfair to start anything new when you were very much not over him. breaking up in the middle of the semester had made it really easy for you to push down any emotions and throw yourself into your studies. but it didn't change the fact that you missed him. even now, the party acted as a good distraction for you.

or so you thought.

you were about to respond when your phone buzzed. you looked down and your heart leapt into your throat when you saw the contact name.

it felt strange seeing it as "kuroo" rather than some version of his given name or a pet name. once you hit the one minute mark of just staring at the text notification in shock, your friend peeked over your shoulder and gasped a little.

"you didn't block him?!"

you snatched your phone out of her hand after she stole it to show your group of friends.

"why would I? it's not like we hate each other."

and it was true- you both ended amicably (though very reluctantly). you only ever wanted the best for each other, and while it was sad, you realized that at this point in your lives with how busy you both were, you weren't able to offer that anymore.

you’d rather this than end things resenting each other.

still, it was a hard pill to swallow, so for now you were just holding it on your tongue, letting the bitter taste of the coating settle instead.

she frowned. "well yeah, but-"

you cut her off before she could bring up the very emotions you were ignoring in that moment and shoved your phone back in your pocket. "c'mon, let's go dance!"

later, though, when you excused yourself to the bathroom, the first thing you did was down your second drink and read the text.

hey.

do you want to come over?

you stared at the messages for another minute, reading and re-reading them over and over again before sighing. being with him for years meant you knew him like the back of your hand, and he wasn't one for casual hook ups or one night stands. you hadn't even heard from him in a few months- this was the first bit of contact you'd had with him since you cleaned out your drawer of clothes at his place.

which meant he was either drunk and missing you or someone was playing a prank and you'd just end up a fool.

seriously weighing the options in front of you, trying not to let your emotions overpower your decision making, you attempted to think about the long term consequences of going over.

no matter how you spun it, it sounded like a bad idea. even if he did send the texts, there was no guarantee he wanted anything out of it.

but you were too tipsy for logic at that point in the night, and if you were being honest with yourself, you were in need of some excitement.

yeah.

I'll send my new address.

wait, he moved?

despite being together for so long, the two of you never ended up living together, opting for dorms and student houses with friends. still, you did spend a lot of time at his old place, and before the breakup you had even talked about the possibility of moving in together after the current school year was done.

you didn't linger on the sour feelings that brought up and instead decided to let your friends know you were leaving. when they asked where you were going, you spun some lie about not feeling well and wanting to head home before you got worse. you didn't really care if they believed you or not.

checking the address he had sent you once more, you made your way out of the house and were pleasantly surprised to realize it wasn't that far of a walk, especially since you were wearing uncomfortable party shoes.

you sipped on the bottle of water you swiped form the refreshment table and tried to sober up a bit more before seeing him. you weren't a hundred percent sure what would happen once you got there, but it was a good idea to be prepared for anything.

eventually you made it up to his apartment, which was in another student housing building off campus, bigger than his old place, and took a moment to compose yourself.

there was still time to turn back and make an excuse for why you bailed.

there was still time to think it through.

there was still time to save yourself from the possibility of more pain.

you took a deep breath and knocked on the door anyway.

not even five seconds later, the door was opening and you were face to face with your ex boyfriend.

you took him in for the first time in months- really took him in. sure, you'd seen his instagram posts since breaking up, but you could only zoom in so far on those. and fine, maybe your friends had tried to set you up with people they had deemed "much hotter", but you never saw the appeal. you couldn't even remember any of their faces in that moment, because kuroo was right there.

his hair was the same as always, slightly messier than usual, exactly how it looked whenever he (or you) would run his hands through it on a particularly stressful day.

had he been stressed about the text? did he regret it?

he was dressed somewhat casually, in a dark red shirt you recognized as part of a birthday gift you gave him one year (you had always liked the colour red on him). he was wearing black sweatpants and his socks were mismatched.

everything about him was familiar, and you hated the way a feeling of ease settled over you when he finished his own analysis of you and gave a boyish, almost giddy grin. "hi."

his voice was warm and gave you butterflies. there was an undertone of excitement in his greeting and it quelled your worries about him regretting the texts.

you decided to smile back, though somewhat shyly (which you inwardly scolded yourself for), and spoke up. "hi."

he didn't let the silence that followed settle into awkwardness. he opened the door a bit wider, and welcomed you in. ever the gentleman, he took your coat and and helped you balance as you took your shoes off. you tried to ignore how warm and gentle his touch was, how it made you immediately crave more.

you made your way into the living room and took everything in. there were empty cans and shot glasses littered across the room, mostly concentrated on the coffee table. you thought you heard him swear under his breath when he looked at the mess as well.

"did you have a party?" you asked, now close enough to smell a bit of alcohol on him.

he shook his head and looked a bit embarrassed. "ah, no..." he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and sighed. "my roommates went out with some friends tonight and decided to pre-game here. I went back to my room before they left because I didn't feel like drinking too much and assumed they'd clean up a bit..."

you nodded in understanding. "wishful thinking, huh?"

he chuckled. "yeah, guess so," he said, then gestured to an empty spot on the couch. "sit, I'll just get some of this out of the way quickly."

"oh, I can help-" you tried to offer but he waved you off.

"don't worry about it. I'm the one who invited you into a sloppy apartment, you shouldn't have to clean up a mess that isn't yours."

you snorted and watched as he shoved a ton of cans into the decorative waste bin by the sofa and took some glasses to the sink in the kitchen. "says the one who's cleaning up a mess that isn't his."

you heard him laugh at your words and the butterflies erupted in your stomach again. you hadn't realized how much you missed that sound. suddenly your mind wandered back to the reason behind his invitation. you'd be alone tonight?

once he returned from the kitchen and sat down next to you, you talked for a bit. he caught you up on the moving situation (him and a few friends found an opening for the second semester, so they decided to jump on it and try to stay until grad, hopefully. he made a joke about trying to make friends with the landlord). you listened closely, trying not to make it obvious you were hanging off his every word.

when he was done, you caught him up on your life and how you were at a party when he texted. he apologized for interrupting and you told him a little too fast not to be, which he seemed pleased with.

after a while, he asked if you wanted to watch a movie. you agreed, though you were starting to get impatient. you knew he wasn't the type of guy to ever expect anything from anyone, but the curiosity was eating you alive. you couldn't help but finally ask him about it halfway through the movie.

"hey... why did you invite me tonight?"

he didn't seem surprised by your question, which told you he was probably expecting it. (it was silly of you to think he couldn't tell when something was on your mind after years together and only months apart.)

he took a deep breath in and looked down at his lap. while he didn't look outwardly nervous, you knew him well enough to know what his tells were. he picked at a thread on his pants, trying to compose himself before dropping the bomb.

"because I missed you." he looked you in the eye and then continued. "a lot. and you can take that however you'd like. I'll let you decide."

you blinked at him. he'd let you decide? the way he said it implied that he missed you, missed you. not just missed having you in his life, not just as a friend- he missed you.

you would be nothing but a liar if you said you hadn't missed him too. and you knew that the feeling of security and familiarity you experienced earlier wasn't just nostalgia or your own unresolved feelings. if that were the case, you wouldn't be feeling this comfortable on the couch with him. you wouldn't be able to pretend things were normal between you as easily as you had been all night.

kuroo still very much felt like home, and you didn't want to let him go ever again. there was only one way for you to take his declaration.

"can I..." you looked into his eyes and tried not to drown in them. "can I kiss you?"

he looked relieved at your words and eagerly nodded. "please."

you leaned forward and feverishly crashed your lips against his as soon as the word left his mouth. he raised one hand to cup your cheek and pulled you closer to him by your thigh with the other, not once breaking away from you.

soon you were straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, quiet noises releasing into the air around you both. you moved a hand up the back of his neck, into his hair, and he groaned slightly into your mouth.

you giggled into the kiss, happy to see you still knew what got him going.

as if either of you could forget- it was muscle memory at that point. just like you'd never forget how to ride a bike, you'd never forget how to make the other feel good.

eventually you both had to pull away and fill your lungs again, but you were close enough that your foreheads touched and your breaths mixed.

it was quiet aside from some light panting, so you decided to break that silence with a confession of your own. "I missed you too, tetsurou. so much."

now, you weren't sure if it was what you said or how you said it, but as soon as the words left your mouth, you felt something hard pressing against the area between your legs and gasped a little.

your eyes opened and you pulled your face away just enough to look at him properly. your eyes met his and his face was tinged pink. "I- I'm sorry... we don't... if you don't want to..." he mumbled, not sure how to gage your reaction to this sudden development.

you kissed him again, softer this time to reassure him, and smiled a bit when you pulled away. "I want to, tetsu."

he let out a relieved sigh and smiled at you in turn, then glanced over at the door. "I have no idea when they'll be back... do you want to continue this in my room?" his eyes slowly and hopefully made their way back to yours.

you nodded and squealed a bit when he suddenly scooped you up in his arms, smile growing wider as he made his way to his bedroom.

and that’s how you got here- cutting to when he gently sets you down on the bed, and you scoot back a bit to lay down comfortably. quickly following, his body covers yours and he begins kissing you again.

your arms instinctively move, one wrapping around his broad shoulders, the other cupping his cheek as you move your lips against his. his own hands, now free due to the fact that he’s propped up on one of his forearms, caress your waist and the the top of your head respectively.

after a few minutes of him focusing on your lips, he starts making his way down your neck. they’re feather light kisses at first to make you giggle, but eventually he finds the sensitive spot he always loved to mark up and the sweet sounds turn into shallow, shuddery breaths.

you whine as soon as he starts sucking on it and you bring your hand up from his cheek to his hair. "mmn... tetsu..."

he pulls away just enough so that you can still feel his lips against your flesh as he trails them up your neck to hover just over your ear. "you have no idea," he breathes out, voice low and far more erotic than you think he intended, "how much I've missed this."

you shudder and turn your face away at the tingly sensation, but the hand on your waist darts up to tilt your chin back in his direction. one thing you always appreciated about kuroo was how tenderly he handled you, no matter the tone of your late night endeavors. he was always gentle with you- not in a way that made you feel fragile, but rather in a way that told you he truly cared for you, treasured you, adored you.

the idea that this is still the case turns you on even more and makes your brain go a bit fuzzy.

when your eyes met his once more, you could see that adoration pooling in them. “look at me, sweetheart.”

you nodd slightly in his firm, yet still very soft grasp and keep your eyes trained on his. you could feel yourself getting wet as they trail over your face, and you swear your entire body feels warm as he gives you a rare type of smile only reserved for times like these.

he leans in to kiss you again and his hand moves from your face to toy with the lower hem of your dress. “you look absolutely gorgeous in this, baby, but do you think can we take it off?” he’s still speaking in the low, sultry tone that always drives you wild- you’re certain that you’d do anything he asked of you with that voice.

you sit up a little and move to unzip the dress, but he takes your hands and gives you a look. “ah ah- let me, pretty girl, you don’t have to move a muscle.”

it’s almost jarring how easily you both fall back into it. as soon as your dress is off, his shirt follows and he’s back to hovering over you. it really feels as though no time has passed since your last time with him.

just more proof that this is right.

he wastes no time in ridding you of your bra and himself of his shirt before pushing you back down onto the bed.

the room is once again filled with sounds of soft moans and gasps as he kisses your chest and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. he alternates between swirling his tongue around it and sucking. kuroo didn’t let your other breast go unattended for long, though, as he begins teasing the hardened bud with his fingers.

“aah, tetsu… please…” you gasped out.

the man on top of you chuckles, and in between switching sides he looks at you from under his eyelashes. “still so sensitive, hm? it’s cute.”

you resist the urge to hide your face and instead opt for throwing your head back when he suddenly sucks on the other nipple.

heat continues to build inside of you until he eventually he trails his kisses down the valley of your breasts, across your ribcage and down to your tummy. he spends a little extra time there, and you have to gently tug on his hair and whine about him taking too long for him to break away from your skin.

“let me worship you, angel. missed your body so much.” his voice is barely audible, the words murmured as though he was in a trance. you feel your pussy clench around nothing at his confession and bite back a whimper.

his lips curl upwards while pressed against your stomach and his eyes flicker up to meet yours. “keep your eyes on me, baby. don’t ever want to be away from you again,” he commands.

he rests his chin on your pubic bone and traces the elastic band of your panties with two familiar fingers. “you wore my favourite.”

heat rushes to your face and you do turn away this time, but he makes a disapproving noise you’re all too familiar with. “sweetheart, what did I just tell you?”

you bite your lip and force your eyes back to his.

he rewards you with a tender kiss to your belly and a “there’s a good girl, knew she was in there…” before he pulls your panties off.

you grow nervous, though you know you don’t need to be with him, and close your legs. his eyes soften significantly at the action. you're not sure why exactly the nerves get to you now of all times, especially considering how much you like his stricter side, but they do and he sees it.

he drops the strict act and rubs reassuring circles to your inner thigh. you've always preferred your softer sessions, anyway. “hey, it’s alright. I’m gonna take good care of you… missed my girl so much, just want to make you feel good, okay? we’ll save that for another time. it’s just you and me now, baby.”

you nod and a wave of calm washes over you at the reassurance. you let him pry your legs apart and gasp as he dives in.

he starts with wet kisses working their way up your thighs, to your slit and then up to your clit before he takes the bud into his mouth and sucks on it. you let out a soft moan and buck your hips into his face.

"mmn," he pulls away for a second and holds your hips down. "don't thrash, princess, just let me do all the work."

and he does. once he really gets into the groove of eating you out, you're a mess on his bed- legs shaking over his shoulders, cunt clenching around his tongue and whimpering out little thank you's when he makes you cum for the first time that night.

but he doesn't stop there. "tastes so good, baby, need more," he says in between licking your juices from your folds. "c’mon, just one more. you can do it," he picks up the pace again, and before you know it you're begging for more, too.

"tetsu- ah~!" you moan when he exchanges licking for sucking on your still sensitive clit again. you feel like you're on fire as he draws you closer and closer to reaching your second high.

you tangle your hands in his hair and he groans, sending vibrations throughout your core. you cry out and arch off the bed, spilling into his mouth.

this time when he pulls away, he slithers back up your body and kisses you. "see how good you taste, baby? best in the world, haven't I always told you that?"

your stomach twists from the praise and you turn your head to the side bashfully, trying to stabilize your breathing. he holds himself up above you and strokes your cheek with his knuckles, watching you fondly. it does nothing but make you more dizzy with affection.

when you've calmed down enough, he whispers "do you still want to-"

"yes." you cut him off and he chuckles.

"okay baby," he crawls off of you and reaches for his nightstand. he opens the drawer and-

your stomach sinks when you see an open box of condoms. the thought of him being with other girls makes you feel green with envy which you suppose isn’t fair considering you’ve been broken up for months, but you’re still a little fuzzy and too high on your own emotions right now to care.

he looks between you and the box and immediately catches on when an unexpected tear falls from your eye.

“oh, baby no-“ he takes one from the box and quickly returns to your side. “I haven’t been using these,” he cups your face and strokes his thumb under your eye.

“you haven’t?” you sniffle and he shakes his head right away.

you pout. “but then-”

kuroo cuts you off with a roll of his eyes. “one of my roommates got them for me as a joke for my birthday. I only opened them because he kept asking to borrow them.”

you digest his words and slowly look up at him. he’s already looking at you and you can’t keep your eyes from watering some more. the thought of him being intimate with someone new when you’ve spent the past few months rejecting everyone your friends forced your way.

“I haven’t even looked at anyone else since we broke up,” he murmurs against your hairline. “missed you too much.”

you nod, finding no traces of dishonesty on his features. “I haven’t been with anyone either… I wasn’t over you. I didn’t want to be,” you admit, voice soft.

he smiles and presses kisses from your scalp down to your cheeks. “such a sweet girl I have, hm? how about you help me out here?”

he tugs off his sweats and your attention is drawn to the tent his boxers. you bite your lip and reach for the band but he takes your hand and places the condom on your palm.

you blink up at him, confused. “you don’t want me to-“

he shakes his head and tugs his boxers down. his cock springs free and you gasp a little at the sight of his tip- red and smeared with pre-cum.

“no, angel, I need to be inside of you. just help me put it on.”

you make quick work of tearing the wrapper off and rolling the condom over his length. he groans at the feeling of your knuckles grazing his skin, but as soon as you pull away he’s flipping you on your back and lining himself up against your entrance.

he knocks his forehead against yours. “ready, baby?”

you nod and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. he leans down for a kiss and slowly pushes into you as your lips connect.

you whine a little at the stretch and he pauses everything. “you’re okay,” he reassures you, giving you time to adjust.

you nod when you feel ready for him to keep going and he bottoms out with a strangled moan. “you’re unreal, you know that?”

his praise pulls a giggle from your throat but it quickly turns into a breathy sigh when he starts moving.

he starts off slow, but soon enough you’re both lost in the moment and his pace picks up. within the next few minutes, his room is filled with sounds of pleasure and sweet words exchanged between lovers.

“you’re perfect,” he says, angling his lips closer to your ear. his hips stutter when you clamp around him at his words.

his thrusts reach deep enough to get you crying out for him. “tetsu, faster! please!”

“ah- there’s a good girl, love hearing you beg for more.” he nibbles the spot just below your ear, soothing it with his tongue.

“I love you,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders.

kuroo groans at the sensation and goes a bit harder. “you needed this just as bad as I did, hm? it’s okay, I’ve got you now, pretty girl. just relax.”

you hide your face in his neck and try to stifle your moans, but he doesn’t appreciate that one bit. “stop that, let me hear you,” he commands and you immediately pull your head back.

he grins down at you and kisses your nose. “sound so pretty when you’re falling apart on my cock, you know better than to hide those noises from me.”

you nod and find yourself unable to look away from his face, as if you were in a trance. he’s absolutely gorgeous on top of you- why would you want to look away?

“you close, baby?” he asks after your walls tighten even more.

“mmhm,” you whimper and lean up for a kiss.

“me too,” he whispers and tugs one of your hands away from his shoulder. he intertwines your fingers and presses is above your head against the pillow. “needed this just as badly as I did, hm? it’s okay, I’ve got you, baby.”

doing so good for me.

you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.

you feel so fucking good, princess.

all of his praise sent shockwaves throughout your body and soon enough you’re tipping over the edge. your back is arched, head thrown back and a loud cry of his name is drawn from you as you cum for the second time.

he follows soon after and you feel his whole body shudder when he spills into his condom.

your breaths mix together as you both come down from your highs. it’s quiet for a few moments before he carefully pulls out and disposes of the soiled contraceptive in the trash next to his bed. he rolls back into bed, facing you.

he strokes your cheek with his knuckles and smiles at you when you open your eyes and turn to face him as well. “hi pretty girl, you okay?”

you take a deep breath and curl into his chest. you still feel slightly too light and any thoughts not related to him are muddled. you’re overcome with an intense wave of affection for him.

he must notice, because when you manage to peek up at him again, he snorts. “yeah, I don’t know what I was expecting.”

he knows better than to try and leave the bed right away (memories of you whining and clinging to him when he did attempt it early on in your relationship flash through his mind and he smiles), so instead he wraps his arms around you and presses kisses to your hairline.

you savour the familiar feeling of being wrapped in his arms and nuzzle into his bare chest. the most comfortable feeling in the world.

eventually he does get up to grab a damp cloth and some water, and he informs you that you can use his bathroom for whatever you need.

you’re both following the same routine you had when you were together as if you hadn’t broken up at all.

now that you’ve regained some clarity, you start to worry about what exactly that means.

you’ve both admitted to missing each other like crazy, but you assume you’ll need to have a serious conversation with kuroo about whether or not you should get back together.

you ponder over this on his bed for a bit longer before he interrupts your thoughts. “we don’t have to talk about it right now,” he starts. “we can talk about it tomorrow morning if you would prefer, but…”

he pauses like he’s not sure if he should continue. you nod encouragingly, curious as to where this is going (thought you think you know). “but I meant absolutely everything I said tonight. um, before and while we were… uh. busy.”

you giggle a little at his shy demeanour before considering the weight of his words. “we could talk about it tomorrow morning, but I think we both already know what we want from this right?”

he doesn’t need to nod, but he does anyway. “I definitely have an answer already.”

you knock your forehead against his. “so… are we officially back together then?”

he offers you the widest grin he’s thrown your way all night. “I think we are, sweetheart. We’ll make it work this time, I promise.”

“I promise,” you repeat.

the rest of the night is spent cuddling under covers, sharing kisses and secrets you’ve missed out on sharing these past few months.

“I love you,” you say, before you finally drift off for the night.

you don’t hear him, but he’s quick to return the sentiment. “I love you too.”

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BONUS:

the following morning, you wake up to your phone ringing. you groan when you see it’s your friend and realize you never texted her back last night to tell her you’re okay.

you look over at kuroo, still sound asleep beside you, and answer as quietly as possible. “hello?”

“oh thank goodness you’re alright, why weren’t you picking up? we all called you a million times!”

you check and see a ton of missed calls from more of your friends who saw you leave the party last night. “I’m sorry, I was asleep,” you say sincerely, only twisting the truth a little bit.

you feel slightly bad about it, you mentally promise her to tell her everything later.

before she can respond, your boyfriend sits up (when did he even wake up?) and says into the phone, “sorry, it’s my fault. but I promise I took good care of her,” he smirks at you.

you flinch when she shrieks into your ear. “YOU WERE WITH KUROO?!”

glaring at him, he snickers and takes the phone from you. “she’ll call you back later, we’re still catching up.”

“no, wait-“ he hangs up the phone and tosses it onto his sheets.

you pout at him. “tetsu, c’mon.”

he kisses your cheek. “I really didn’t meant for it to come off as rude, I swear. I just wanted a relaxing morning with you before you have to leave.”

you sigh and fall back into the soft comfort of his pillows. “it’s okay,” you say. “I really didn’t feel like giving her the rundown first thing in the morning, anyway. you really tired me out last night,” you peer up at him.

he laughs. “oh really? we’ve gotta build up your stamina again, pretty girl. I wasn’t lying-“ he crawls over and hovers a few inches above you. “we still have a lot of catching up to do.”

you mentally pat yourself on the back for answering his texts. definitely not your worst idea.

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I swear I’ll get better at writing smut, folks 🫡

but for my first time writing it, I don’t think it’s horrible. if the ending feels a bit rushed, it’s because I’ve literally had this sitting in my drafts since miss olivia rodrigo released the music video for this song last august and I wanted it out 🙃.

tagging @nyctophilicroses bc I remember you commented on the original post I made asking abt exes to lovers with kuroo 🥹

[hello-gloomy]

Metal Bambi

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Megatron x Gen!Reader

Description: Seeing something crash into the woods by your house you go and check it out on a whim.

Warnings: Slight OOC. Death threat, alien bleeding. Alcohol mentioned at the end. You/Your pronouns no definitive description of reader.

A/N: Bro I didn't even put his name in till the end, also I like to think this takes place during a truce ( in the TFP universe ofc). Anyway enjoy my projection of my daydreams and let me know if u want a part two.

1,300 Words

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Despite better judgment, you followed the large, silver, crashing object into the woods. Just for fun, you think to yourself for comfort. You take all your mechanic tools in the case as if it were a giant object in the sky. You were leaving your vehicle as you couldn't take it through the heavy terrain. Running across the forest floor and jumping through bushes, you follow the reoccurring crashing noises and shuffling. The nearer you were, the better you could make out a deep rumbling; it sounded like uttering. A very angry utter, rounding the final tree in your path, you found a robot as giant as the trees in the forest sitting down against one of the said trees. It looked injured, leaking a blue liquid covered in what looked like ash. Its silver plating seemed covered in scratches, and some looked dented. Glancing farther up, straining your neck, you glimpse at what you guess to be its Face. Its eyes are closed, and what you think are its arms are holding its chest. Getting closer to it, you climb over its legs and get closer to its chest. Examining the shrapnel sticking out its chest, you put on some thick gloves and position yourself to yank in harshly out. Before you make some motion, a voice stops you dead in your tracks; you quickly whip your head up to the noise.

" What do you think you're doing." It says in a low grumble. You blink at him and then remember that you need to respond lest it end your life before you can help.

"Taking this out.." You state as evenly as you can. He looks at you, processing your words while glaring at you the best he can, as he's in such a state of disarray. You wait a beat, hoping he doesn't swat you away and kill you from the sheer size of his hand. He lets out a deep hum and moves his arm to let you pull it out. Getting into position again, you steady your feet, mustering all the strength you can, and you pull with all your might. With one final tug, it flings out onto the ground with a resounding clang of metal. He lets out a deep sigh above you. Steadying yourself on one of his legs, you stand on the tips of your shoes and glance at the hole left by the metal spike. Some cords are broken and leaking that blue fluid that you saw earlier. Hopping down from his thigh, you lay your bag on the ground and take out some black electrical tape. Then climb back up his legs and reach into the hole to start patching up the loose cords the best you can, without even really knowing what he is, aside from the fact he is a giant bleeding, at least you think bleeding, robot.

" I don't think a bandaid is going to fix the giant hole in your chest, but...I uh stopped the bleeding..." Trying to lighten the mood, you trail off at the last bit awkwardly as he doesn't say anything nor laugh, so you peek up and see him staring at you, calmly breathing as he studies your Face.

"So, how'd you get beat up?" Your odds of obtaining an explanation from him appear slim.

"Predacons."

"Wow." That was a stupid response, though you didn't know how else to respond. He lets out another low hum at your reaction to his answer.

" Why are you helping me?" You don't have the answer to this intriguing question, so give him the next best thing.

"Because you're injured, " you declare with little confidence but straight-faced. He lets a huff out at your reaction. He moves his arm toward you, and his hand cups half of your body. He leans down slightly to convey his point in his following words.

" I could crush you in the palm of my servo." His eyes baring into your soul made your heart seize at his words.

" If you wanted to, you would have done it already." Spoken with Faux confidence and a slight tremble in your voice as you held his fierce gaze. You resume your work and finish patching him up the best you, as he started guiding you after his original threat.

"It'll heal on its own, " he says suddenly. You tilt your head, confused at his sudden words.

" The hole." He explains it to you in a few words, referencing your previous joke. You let out a quiet 'Oh' to him in understanding.

" If you want, you can follow me home; I can clean you up better there. And wash off most of that dirt, too." You offer to him while packing up most of the tools you had originally packed with you. He's staring at you again, and then he balances his arm against the tree he is lying on and moves to stand up. He looks down at you expectantly, and you take that as your queue to lead the way back out. The walk back is primarily quiet, aside from the crunching of leaves under your feet and the resounding thump of the robot's footsteps following you. Reaching the road again, you look at your car and then back to him. You move to say something, but he beats you by transforming into a tank.

" What the actual fuck." He scoffs and flashes his lights as a sign to start driving the way home. You get into your car, slightly exasperated at the situation that you found yourself in. Pulling up into the driveway, you park on the grass instead of in the large shed to move easier back and forth.

" Wait here real quick." You holler behind you at the mech while rushing inside for a tarp for him to sit, as your garage and shed are a bit undersized, and you'd rather not risk making him uncomfortable while injured. Running back out to him, tarp in hand, he turned back to his more humanoid form, standing with his arms crossed while looking at your home. You quickly lay it out on the ground for him with a slight 'Tah-Dah' for added effect and a wave of your hands. His Face remains the same, and he waits for a beat before shifting to sit on it.

" I would offer you some water, but I don't think you drink that, considering what was leaking out of you." You sway awkwardly, trying to converse with the giant before you.

"Energon." He states with no explanation. You give him a 'Uh-Huh' with a little nod, pretending to understand. You turn on the hose and blast him with warm water, getting all the built-up dirt and dried energon on him. Finally clean and shiny again, you notice hints of purple and red on his plating that you couldn't see before.

"You're pretty for an alien robot, you know." You say offhandedly while checking out the odd symbol on his chassis. He lets out a full laugh at your slight advance to him; it made you jump due to its unexpectedness.

"You're brave for your size."

"Thanks.." You return with a grimace.

"What's your name, organic?" He asks seriously

"Y/n. And you?"

"Megatron." He holds out a single digit to you, and you wrap your little hand around it in response, giving a little shake for good measure.

"I won't forget your bravery today." He gets up off his knee and stands at his full height. Turning his back to you, he walks a little ways away from you, giving you one final glance before turning into a ship and flying off.

"I need a drink." You kick the hose and head inside.

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙼𝙿𝙸𝙾𝙽

description: in which leah williamson’s younger sister is in a two year relationship with alessia russo and has just won two gold medals at the world gymnastic championships

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alessia russo x female reader

disclaimer: I am in no way saying alessia russo is gay or bi-sexual this is all fiction

warnings: not much, slight language and a lil bit of sexual content

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y/n just posted

liked by, alessiarusso99, leahwilliamsonn and 236, 345 others

y/n what a team, what a time - i love you all and see you soon!! ❤️

tagged teamgb and britishgymnasticsofficial

view 3487 comments

username1: CONGRATULATIONS YOUR BEAM ROUTINE WAS MINDBLOWING 😭😘😘

teamgb: 2 golds, 3 silvers not too bad xoxo 🫡

^

y/n: ❤️❤️

simonebiles: so proud! remember when you were just a little thing competing ! can hardly keep up with you now! 🩷

^

y/n: I have been so grateful for all your support and coaching - even if i am team gb all the way! 😜😘

leahwilliamsonn: so so so so so proud of you, loved watching every second, you continuously make me proud little one !! ❤️😭

^

y/n: ilysm sis ❤️

izzy.songhurst: GOWAN Y/N - SHES THE QUEEN OF THE BEAM AND THE FLOOR ROUTINE 🩷

^

y/n: I EXPECT YOU TO FOLLOW SOON BRONZE THIS YEAR GOLD THE NEXT ❤️

alessiarusso99: I am so proud my baby <3

^

y/n: You helped more than you will ever know my love xx

^

ellatoone: 🤢🤢

^

y/n: @joebunney come get your girl 🙄

^

ellatoone: all gross love aside, well done our girl!! 😗

^

y/n: 😊😗

maxwhitlock: Absolute legend, BRING ON Paris 😎😎

^

y/n: 🇫🇷🇫🇷

username2: she was so good!!!! 😩😩

username3: She is SO pretty 🥺🥺

username4: WHY DID I NOT REALISE SHE WAS WITH ALESSIA??? 🤯🤯

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username5: THEY HAVE BEEN TOGETHER FOR TWO YEARS?!!!!!

^

username6: and their instas are basically shrines to each other wtf????

katie_mccabe11: showin them all how it’s done! xx

^

y/n: took lessons from u clearly xo

^

bethmead_: nahhh got it from me 😌😊

caitlinfoord: that photo of us all in the caps tryna be inconspicuous omg 😭

^

y/n: lesbians united ig??

^

username7: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

britishgymnasticsofficial: ❤️❤️

see more comments…

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alessiarusso99 just posted

liked by, ellatoone, mbrighty04 and 128, 298 others

alessiarusso99 day in day out you have worked incredibly hard for this, never resting, never giving up. Words cannot express how proud I was seeing you receive those medals. I love you baby, well done amore mio xxx ❤️

tagged y/n

view 2398 comments

leahwilliamsonn: this is cute and also sickening …

^

y/n: OI

username1: this IS the CUTEST THING 😭😭

username2: I NEED A RELATIONSHIP LIKE THIS NOW 😡😡

y/n: I love you so much baby! Thank you for being one of my biggest strengths! <3

^

alessiarusso99: always xo

lucybronze: sickeningly cute! WELL DONE Y/N 🩷

^

y/n: THANKS BESTIE 🩷

ellatoone: ew cooties

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y/n: ew ella toone

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alessiarusso99: behave you two!!

katie_mccabe: KISSING?? BEFORE MARRIAGE?

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jbeattie91: SHAMEFUL

^

bethmead_: HOW DARE THEY!

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alessiarusso99: children… the lot of you 🙄

mbrighty04: loving this !! GO y/n!!

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y/n: 🥺😗

racheldaly3: LOVING YOU TWO!! 😩😩

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y/n: love you Rach!! 😘

viviannemiedema: WELL DONE BABY WILLIAMSON 🩷

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y/n: LOVE YOU TALL PERSON 🩷

esme.morgan: 🩷🩷🩷

username3: I feel like less is out of her league…

^

username4: Yeah i feel like She would be happier with someone else 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

^

ellatoone: We don’t.

arsenalwfc: We LOVE supportive girlfriends 😫💋

^

username5: WE LOVE THE ARSENAL ADMIN

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y/n just posted

liked by, arsenalwfc, simonebiles and 211, 528 others

y/n best thing about getting to rest?

Getting to join arsenal women training ofc 🥹 (oh and getting to yell at Katie cause J is cool like that :))

tagged arsenalwfc

view all 2133 comments

username1: hahahah she was allowed to go to training 😭😭

katie_mccabe11: I DON’T understand I was ONSIDE !

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y/n: na never

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katie_mccabe11: i hate you sm

arsenalwfc: Loved having you! content incoming gooners…

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username2: AHHHHH

alessiarusso99: cannot believe my team didn’t win honestly 🙄

^

y/n: Just because you kiss me doesn’t mean I will give the foul! 🤷‍♀️

^

leahwilliamsonn: THATS MY GIRL - don’t give into seduction 😩😘

ellatoone: real question is … Did you take a shot?

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y/n: Nahhhh didn’t wanna embarrass the girlies too much

^

bethmead_: yeah yeah, keep talking Williamson

caitlinfoord: Honestly best ref we have EVER had 🩷

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y/n: Love youuuuuu Foordy 🩷

username3: How ? Was ? She ? Allowed ? In ? Training ? 😭😭

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username4: Well, she’s Leah’s sister and Lessi’s gf so I suppose they all like her !

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username5: Suppose? The entire team LOVES her !

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Arsenalwfc just posted

The camera zooms back from the Arsenal badge to show Alessia, Katie and y/n sat at a table laughing and they all smile at the camera.

“Hi I’m Alessia Russo.” Katie begins, Alessia laughing as she shakes her head.

“I’m y/n Williamson.” Alessia adds, causing y/n to glare.

“And I’m Katie Mccabe.” y/n says, a mock Irish accent in her voice which causes Alessia to giggle.

“Oi!” Katie says, leaning over to try and smack the younger girl but Alessia’s sharp light slap to Katie’s hand stops her.

“Ha!” y/n grins as Katie hisses like an angered cat.

“That’s not fair! She’s got her guard dog with her.” Katie jokes at the camera as Alessia rolls her eyes but she smiles none the less.

“Anyway…” y/n begins dragging out the ‘y’. “Today we are doing...” y/n begins. "What are we doing?" She then asks, causing the spectators to laugh.

The spectators in question were, Leah, Beth and Vivianne, all of who were sat happily on the sofa, watching the three on camera.

"Who knows who best." Katie says, Alessia rolling her eyes playfully when she realises they have been tricked into a couple's challenge for the youtube.

It was no secret the fans loved Alessia and y/n together, consistently finding their relationship adorable and loving the small amounts of content they were sometimes given.

"So, both Less here and baby Williamson, have whiteboards and they will be asked questions by me, of course, and have to write the answer down." Katie explains.

y/n holds up her whiteboard excitedly, her eyes sparkling as she grinned at the camera, missing the way her blonde lover smiled softly at her, eyes filled with soft love.

"Then, whoever gets the most right, wins." Katie says, she then picks up a card. "Right, what are Russo's two preferred positions?" Katie asks.

"Easy!" y/n grins as she begins to scribble across the board, Alessia chuckling as she does the same.

They two turn their boards around, Alessia smiling proudly at her girlfriend when she sees they have the same initials.

"Well done baby!" Alessia grins and y/n's cheeks flush at the term of endearment even after all their time together.

"Aw look at her!" Katie teases, leaning over to pinch y/n's cheek between her fingers, however the sharp hit which stops her makes her pout. "Again?" Katie whines at her fellow teammate.

y/n however grins at her protector, leaning over to peck her cheek sweetly, before glaring at her sister who fake gagged in disgust at the show of affection.

"Okay, movin' on." Katie hums. "What is y/n's favourite apparatus?" She asks before scoffing. "Even I know that!" She adds.

y/n smiles as she quickly writes her answer, Alessia doing the same as they count down from 3 before flipping their boards 'floor' both bright against the white.

"I knew that!" Beth says excitedly and y/n grins at her.

"I've always loved it, and found it so fun." y/n explains.

"Scares me half to death." Alessia denies as she remembers all the times she had watched her girlfriend jump and flip too high for her liking.

"It's my job Less." y/n defends with a laugh.

As the game continues it is clear the two girls know each other very well, both of them getting the other's question continuously correct until it was neck and neck and the last question.

"What is y/n's favourite beam dismount?" Katie asks.

Alessia pauses, shock in her face as she realises she doesn't know. Leah's mouth drops at the fact her sister's girlfriend doesn't know this and y/n looks mildly amused as she writes down.

"I don't know." Alessia admits. "I have no clue." She adds and Katie gasps as y/n turns her board around. Showing the g-valued dismount in black ink.

"Double tuck back salto with full twist." y/n says simply.

"Because you can land it every time." Alessia realises with a groan covering her face with her hands as Katie names y/n the winner.

As filming wraps up and y/n helps the crew put their things away, two lanky arms wrap around her waist and pull her into a corridor she didn't recognise.

"Can't believe you didn't know my dismount." y/n teases. "I mean, I love you so much, and know everything about you, but you don't even know my famous dismount." y/n continues.

Alessia whines, her lanky body pressing to the front of her girlfriend's as she buries her head in her lover's neck, causing her to have to bend quite a bit.

"Stop." Alessia huffs. "Its so many words to remember." She adds as y/n shakes her head.

"Don't love me." She teases as Alessia shuts her up with a chaste yet deep kiss.

The blonde striker's hands tighten around her waist, pulling her closer as her fingertips seemingly bruise into y/n's body from the strength of her grip.

The blonde angles her head down and left, giving her a better angle to press herself against her lover, her tongue pushing against y/n's slowly opening mouth.

After a moment of tongues clashing, the kiss slows Alessia's hands sliding up to gently cup y/n's face before keeping their lips pressed softly together for a moment more.

"Still think I don't love you?" Alessia asks, pulling away slowly, her teeth pulling y/n's bottom lip with her slightly.

y/n cannot function for a moment, the deep kiss sucking all the oxygen from her head and ability to breath from her body, the only thing in her mind being the smell of her girlfriend's perfume.

"I think you should do that once more, just so I'm sure you do." y/n smiles after regaining her ability to speak.

"Gladly, amore mio." Alessia murmurs, before moving her head back down to kiss her lover once more. After what felt like seconds, the two still pressed deeply together a shout ran out.

"MY EYES!"

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alessiarusso99 just posted

liked by leahwilliamsonn, katie_mccabe11 and 239, 322 others

alessiarusso99 she’s my favourite person idk <3

tagged y/n

view all 3298 comments

username1: AWWWWWWWWW

y/n: i love you baby <3

^

ellatoone: ‘i love you baby’ 🤢

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mbrighty04: hahahahahahahahahahahhahaha

leahwilliamsonn: my eyes will never recover 😩

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y/n: #sorrynotsorry

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alessiarusso99: #imaccsorry

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y/n: she’s not …

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katie_mccabe11: leah’s shout of horror will never leave me 😭

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username2: what happened ?!?! I NEED TO KNOW 😂

username3: CUTEEEEEEEEEE

izzy.songhurst: 😍😍😍

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y/n: 🩵🩵

username4: OI OI OI

caitlinfoord: KISSING? LIKE THIS? AT YOUR AGE ??

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bethmead_: HOW AWFUL 😩

keirawalsh: you two are so cute !! xx 🥺

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y/n: love youuuuu xx

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lucybronze: you two are so gross !! xx 🥺

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y/n: count your days Bronzey

maxwhitlock: 🫶🫶

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y/n just posted

liked by leahwilliamsonn, simonebiles and 498, 398 others

y/n alexa play baby by Justin Bieber

tagged alessiarusso99

view all 5987 comments

alessiarusso99: my love

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katie_mccabe11: so gross 🙄

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y/n: i’ll fight you mccabe i swear 🤛

ellatoone: banger of a tune

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alessiarusso99: hundred percent 🫶

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y/n: AND I WAS LIKE BABY BABY BABY

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ellatoone: OOOH LIKE BABY BABY BABY OOH

username1: 🥺🥺🥺

username2: 🔥🔥

izzy.songhurst: cuties

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y/n: love ya xx

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alessiarusso99: thanks Iz ! x

arsenalwfc: ❤️🥺

leahwilliamsonn: 🙄😍

^

y/n: 🖕❤️

simonebiles: my babies are so cute !!!!

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y/n: 💙💙

username3: 😫😫😫😫😫

kyracooneyx: i was so in love with him 🥲

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y/n: it’s okay we all have a phase 😔

bethmead_: viv why can’t we be cute like this ?!!

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viviannemeidema: because we are not as cute as this 🤷‍♀️

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y/n: 😶😶

username4: I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

stanwaygeorgia: GROSS

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keirawalsh: georgia behave

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leahwilliamsonn: no no let’s hear her out

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y/n: 🖕🖕

see more comments...

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END

we love baby Less 🥺🥺

[s-i-ll-y-w-i-ll-y]

Murder Dads

Hannigram x Child!reader

(Platonic Ofc)

Summary: Y/n had a good home life, that was until they found out it was all a lie. Fortunately, they had two people who treated them well and gave them the life they wanted.

(Nah bc I acc love the idea of this sm and I am PRAYING you all love it too-)

TW! Implied/Mention of kidnapping, mention of drugging, death, description of death/dead bodies, passing out, mention of/implied murder-suicide and mention of infertility.

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A loud crash from down the hall caused you to jolt upright in your bed. The cool air seeped through the thin cloth of your shirt as you stepped out from under the covers and locked the door across from your bed.

You jumped out your skin as footsteps raced up and down the hall, the slim line of light under your door slipped into your room, the faint shadow of two sets of shoes lingered outside. Heart racing quickly, you rushed to your wardrobe and hid between the tops and trousers piled in each corner.

A loud crash echoed throughout the room, the yellow candle light from the hallway chandelier leaked into the room, letting the dressers and cast aside shoes and toys bask in the beautiful glow.

“Search the room.” A tall man in a black jacket barked at a group of soldiers, giving them orders as they raced to check every spot in the room. Under the bed, behind the curtains, beneath dressers. Anywhere and everywhere.

But fear jolted through your body as one walked over and reached for the handle on the wardrobe. The bright white light of their torch as it flashed in your eyes made you flinch.

“Found the kid.” The soldier yelled over to the man, making the man in charge race over as they pulled you out.

You kicked and squirmed to get out of the soldiers grasp but couldn’t. The man in charge looked down at you, urging you to be calm.

“My name is Agent Crawford of the FBI. You have nothing to worry about, you’re safe now.” He smiled softly, not expecting the harsh kick to the stomach you gave him.

A single gunshot echoed down the hall as well as two thuds.

“Mama?” You called out.

Enough squirming finally became useful as the soldier loosened his grip to much and you ran off. Panting like a dog, you rushed down the hall until you got to the master bedroom. You came to a halt, seeing blood cover the hard wood floor and the body of your Mama and Papa sprawled out. A knife lay in your Papa’s hand, his grip slowly loosening and his eyes briefly glancing at you before softly gazing off into the distance.

The colour drained from your face as realisation set in.

As you tried to run over, a hand caught the back of your shirt. Tears spilled out your eyes and rolled down your cheeks as you fought against whoever was holding you back. You yelped quickly as they pulled you into their embrace holding you tightly against their chest. The slow rise and fall of their breathing calmed you slightly as they held you in place, not letting go no matter how hard you struggled.

Pain stung your soul as you were dragged away from the scene, watching everyone else allowed in. Everyone was able to see them except you. Their child.

“I’m going to set you down now, can you promise to not run?” The voice hummed through your body as they kept their hold on you. Their voice was soft but rough, round yet pointy, like the sharp end of a dull pencil. An accent as well. Not one you had heard before- or ever. It was pretty though.

A small nod was all they needed to trust you.

They gently set you down with a grunt and watched as you turned to face them. He was a well-dressed man, in his mid 50’s with greying hair and nice brown eyes. You gazed up at him and saw him reach for your face. Worry set in and you reacted the only way you knew how.

Fear and acceptance.

You clamped your eyes shut and braced for him to strike you. Instead he tussled your hair, his touched moving down to hold your shoulder.

“Theres no need to worry.” He started, bending slightly to be at your level. “You’re safe with me.”

You felt tears run down your face as you opened your eyes. Staring at him, a look of happiness settled as well as a soft smile as you hugged him. You clung to his midsection, feeling his arms embrace you, one hand tangling in your hair and the other rubbing your shoulder.

Someone gently cleared their throat from behind you, causing you to begrudgingly let go and turn. Another tall man, thinner framed than the one behind you, with casual clothes on, messy brown hair and thin rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“Dr. Lecter, can I speak to you over here?” He asked.

A soft hum left Dr Lecter’s lips as he stepped around you and walked away with the other man.

Curiosity got the better of you as you spotted most police and FBI agents trying to get press away from the windows, giving you the opportunity to see your mama and papa.

Quickly and quietly, you waltzed into their bedroom, under the crime scene tape. You saw the blood that rolled from your mama’s lifeless body. Gallons seemed to have drained from the wound in her chest. Her eyes were cold, desolat of any feeling or emotion. She was half covered in a black bag, yellow pieces of paper with numbers in bold surrounded the cornered off area.

The floorboards screeched under your weight as you knelt next to her, brushed the bloodied hair off of her face. A sob left your lips as you looked at her. She always said she’d never leave you, not after the deal of issues she and papa had went through to get you. She made sure you knew she wouldn’t leave your side.

She hadn’t lied fully. You were beside her. She just didn’t know.

You hadn’t realised the river of tears sinking into your shirt and the amount of sobs that echoed in the room.

Heavy boots raced to your spot, grabbing you under your shoulders and dragging you out of the taped off area. Your body began trembling. The adults surrounding you watched and began trying to help you as you shook like a leaf in the wind. All their words blurred as you fell into someone’s arms.

~~~~~~~~

Your eyes opened slowly, analysing your surroundings. The soft beeping of a heart monitor, machines huddled around the twin bed, dull walls empty of anything other than scattered motivational posters.

A hospital room.

“Good. You’re awake.”

A gasp left your jaw agape as your gaze shot over to the speaker.

“My Name is Will Graham, this is Dr. Hannibal Lecter. We both work with the FBI and wanted to speak with you about your abductors.”

“Abductors.?”

Dr. Lecter folded his jacket and placed it on a chair beside him. He stepped forward and placed a hand on the guard on the edge of the bed. “The people in this drawing.”

He placed a sheet of brightly coloured paper on your lap. A crudely scribbled sketch of a family of three stretched across a plain sheet of paper with your name on the bottom left corner. The family was your mama, your papa and you.

“The perfect, happy family.” Your papa always said.

You listened closely as they began to explain who your ‘parents’ were.

Drug smugglers. Human traffickers.

Mafia boss father and mother who dabbled in modelling. They had wanted kids with each other since they met, but found out your mama was infertile.

That’s where you came into the equation. They saw you at the park with your family and just knew the three of you would be perfect together.

So, of course, they stalked you and your family. They found out your school, when your parents went to work, when you’d be alone with a nanny. Apparently, one day your old nanny went ‘missing’ so your parents hired a new one.

Dr. Lecter suspected that you were either unconscious when your parents were killed or suppressed the memory. You couldn’t remember it if you tried your hardest.

Your face contorted as you heard your mama and papa had drugged you with each meal to keep your their little angel.

Oblivious and innocent was what they wanted.

It was what they needed.

Your heart sunk as Mr Graham spoke about how your father had lost all their money in casinos and splurging on stuff he wouldn’t need.

To save himself and his wife from their investors hunting them down and spending hours torturing them before killing them, he decided to commit to a murder-suicide plan.

Turns out that Mr Graham had been the one to shoot your papa right as he had plunged the knife deep into your mama’s chest.

Your breath hitched as you thought about how horrible that must have been. Life of both yourself and your wife’s fading in front of you as an agent drags your child away. No chance to say goodbye. No nothing.

You sobbed into your palms as you held yourself still, threatening to tremble once again.

Dr Lecter placed a palm on your back, rubbing gentle circles into your skin and assuring you that ‘Everything would be okay in the end.’

For weeks you waited for that good end.

You were cooped up in that small hospital room for what felt like years until you were finally permitted to leave under supervision.

That supervision was, of course, Dr Lecter and Mr Graham.

When you were out they would take you to cafes and restaurants you liked, as well as clothes shopping and toy shops. They gave you everything you wanted.

Dr Lecter brought you to his house at some point too. He cooked for you and let you hang around his kitchen and watch. After some time Mr Graham came to the door, surprised to see you answer.

Will threw you over his shoulder, delivering you to Dr Lecter. He gently placed you down next to him before closing the oven door.

“Could you two set up the dining table for me? I forgot to do it earlier.” He said softly, going back to chopping up vegetables.

You and Will grabbed some cutlery and began placing things down where you were kinda sure they went. Needless to say, Dr Lecter had to rearrange them all.

After a lesson on how to set a table properly, you were allowed to start eating.

Hannibal smiled as he saw you happily chewing away. He hadn’t seen you smile properly before and he thought it was adorable, especially due to the fact that it was at his cooking. Such a small creature that had been through so much yet still had a smile on its face.

Will had taken notice as he watched you guzzle down your food. His gaze focussed on you before glancing at Hannibal, as if communicating with him. Hannibal looked back and smirked softly.

You looked at them as you finished your food, seeing that had been done for a while. A gentle apology left your mouth before Hannibal swiped yours and Will’s plates away.

Will walked towards you and took your hand in his, saying he had an amazing surprise for you. He guided you upstairs and to a door with a white sign on the handle,

‘Y/n’s Room’

You looked up at him, eyes shining with wonder and he opened the door.

The door rolled open with a loud creak and stopped just before hitting the wall. Will flicked on the light and presented a room- your new room. You quickly stepped inside and began to explore but stopped at a burgundy desk pressed up against the wall below a window.

On the desk was a paper with lots and lots of writing you would never read. You heard Hannibal’s footsteps come upstairs and stop at the doorway, watching with Will as you read the title of the sheet.

‘Adoption Papers for Y/N L/N’

~~~~~~~~

Finished Sunday 14th of January 2024 3:01 AM.

[pinkypromisepascal]

Handiwork - Jim Hopper x fem!reader

summary: Hopper shows up with a nasty cut so you lend a helping a hand and patch him up.

content: MDNI ofc, friends to lovers, subby!Hop, Hop has a hand kink, just minor descriptions of the cut, handjob, cum eating (oops), no physical description of reader except for pretty hands and jewelry

author's note: I had so many people look at this, thank you so much @strang3lov3 @umnitsa @endlessthxxghts @ievutebebe for looking at this and helping me work this out! Also I know the moodboard and title say fem!reader but technically this can be seen as gn!reader too, fem!reader's just my default mode.

word count: 2.6k

You got home from work four hours ago, ready to bask in the comfort of your small home in Hawkins. Despite the beautiful sunny weather outside, you find yourself more comfortable on your couch with a big cup of your favorite tea and a new book you've been dying to read. 

You haven't moved an inch in the last hour, too engrossed in the book's plot. A sharp knock at your door pulls you out of your thoughts. You have no clue who it is, but you don't wanna be rude and ignore the person, so you get up with a tired sigh and open the door, only to find Jim Hopper looking down at you, pressing a bloodied tissue to his head. 

"Hop, hi, I-... wow, what happened?"

Jim looks at you, his blue eyes kind and warm as always when he's with you. "Might have gotten into a little brawl at the bar," he admits sheepishly with a little eye roll.

You step aside and let him in. "For good reason at least?"

He shrugs, "Just had to handle a drunk guy and you know... some glass broke." You take a look at him, peeling the tissue away just enough to look at the cut going diagonally from his left eyebrow. "Thought you might come in handy, I'm out of gauze," he says dryly, "And I really don't need a hospital bill right now."

Fair enough, you think.

He wordlessly follows you to the bathroom and just lets his eyes follow you as you gather the supplies you'll need. He notices the ring on your index finger, the one he got you for your birthday a few months back. He'd never admit to it, but he's always been a little fascinated by your hands. And that fascination has gotten stronger over the last few months. He never really thought about hands that much, what they might say about people, but he's watched yours take care of El's scraped knee, watched them pet stray cats, seen those fingers wrap around a bottle of beer at his place. When he looks at his own hands, he just thinks of them as burly, callused.

But yours? They’re soft, gentle, even in the most mundane of tasks.

He snaps out of his thoughts when you clear your throat and turn around again, putting stuff on the vanity behind him. You cock your head and chuckle, "Need you to get a little more on my level, big guy." It takes a second for him to get the hint, but then he puts the bloodied tissue aside and sits down on the toilet lid, legs spread so you can step between them. You nod approvingly and can't hide a little smirk at the height difference between you two. Neither can he.

You grab a small towel and hold it under running water for a second before gently dabbing at the cut, cleaning the dried blood. He hums and closes his eyes. "Sorry," you mumble, your other hand tilting his head a little to get a better look at the cut. He feels the rings on his skin and suppresses a noise in his throat. The corner of his mouth twitches, "No, 's the cold that feels nice." "Enjoy the cold, only gets worse from here," you quip and snort when his eyes snap open. "Just some antiseptic and a few stitches, you can handle it. You're in good hands with me." "Hm, never doubted that," he retorts and closes his eyes again. 

You pat the wound dry with another and then reach for the antiseptic, putting some of it onto a sterile gauze compress and then gently holding and dabbing it against the wound. He hums again and clears his throat in discomfort. "Ah come on, you've had worse," you tease softly. He smirks again and nudges your leg with his, "Shut up."  "You shut up."

He feels a shiver down his spine when you carefully touch the area around the cut, checking for swelling or signs of infection. He slowly takes a deep breath, careful so you don't notice his tension. He feels the blood rushing through his body, his thoughts running a mile a minute. “You’re always so gentle with your hands,” he mutters softly, and you thank him bashfully. You mumble something, asking if he’s still good. When he opens his eyes, he catches your gaze, your eyes still warm despite the cold white light of your bathroom. 

"Hope I'm not ruining your evening plans with this," he suddenly says. You put the compress aside and scoff, "Please, we both know I don't have plans. You're basically my highlight of the day." He cocks his eyebrow, immediately squinting as he feels the pain from the currently bad side of his face, "Oh really?" You smile proudly at him, "Mhm."

His heart skips a beat. If only you knew the effect you're having on him right now. He hasn't always felt for you like this, recently things have just been feeling different. He feels more at ease with himself. He's trying to allow himself a little more fun again, a little more peace. And in all the years he's known you, he can't remember when your presence hasn't brightened his day. You've always been the highlight of his day. 

He smiles at you, and you realize your hand is still on his cheek like before. You pull away and take a deep breath, "Okay, so... stitching's gonna be a bitch." Hop just shrugs, "Someone told me I've had worse, so I think I can handle it." You laugh and nudge his belly with the back of your hand, "Can't be in too much pain if y'keep making bad jokes." The shiver runs from his spine between his legs. Jesus Christ.

He's drifting off again, gone in his thoughts about you, about your hands, your hands on him while you're so close to him, so focused on your task. He's sure you can hear how wild his heart is thumping in his chest, or feel the fluttering of his pulse in his neck where your hand is resting again, keeping his head in place and occasionally tilting it towards the light. And he hopes you don't look down. Anything but that. He's dying to move, to let his hands feel yours, feel them on his body, eagerly exploring him. 

You say something, but he doesn't hear what, he's too far gone, imagining what it would be like to feel those heavenly hands wrapped around his co— A snap in front of his face brings him back yet again.

"Sorry, what?" You tut, "What's got you so distracted today? Did you hit your head during that fight? I was asking if you feel any pain." He suppresses a groan, then swallows and only replies with "No." Somehow the pain only makes him crazier for you. "Good, then you're all done," you say with a smile and start putting the supplies back. 

Jim tries to shake off his thoughts without making his head throb too much and gets up, now leaning with his lower back against the vanity, right next to you. "How many times can I come here 'fore you start charging me?" You chuckle to yourself at first, and his heart skips a beat again. As you look at him, you only now notice his busted lip and grab the still damp towel to wipe the dried blood off, standing between his legs, then wipe your thumb along the spot. "You're free to show up here anytime, big guy," you smile, and he's sure you don't mean to sound so sultry. Maybe it's his mind playing tricks on him. Still, there's no more denying the near painful strain in his jeans now. He's hoping you don't feel it, almost embarrassed about it. Any move to adjust himself will just draw your attention to it. 

"Much appreciated," he replies smugly as you look at him. Everything about you is just—

"You seem awfully tense, you okay? Feeling dizzy or something?" He cocks his head slightly and bites the inside of his cheek, crossing his arms in front of his big chest. "Little headache," he lies.

You smirk at him, "Hm, little headache or maybe something else bothering you?" 

Before he can ask what you mean, he feels your hand press against the outline of his cock, making him draw in a breath.

Jackpot.

You can almost see his thoughts racing behind his gorgeous eyes. You close your hand around him, just a bit, and the corner of his mouth twitches. He's uncrossed his arms, his hands gripping the vanity's edge as he stares you down. Your eyebrow cocks up, challenging, daring him. 

Your heart's beating in your throat, and you can feel his body heat. Part of you doesn't know if what you're doing is wrong, if you should talk about what's happening or just stop right here and never speak of it again. This is definitely crossing a line and you don't know how things will be after. Yet another part is screaming at you to keep going, and you think he feels the same. 

"You need me to take a look at this, too?" You ask, your voice suddenly quiet, a new undertone to it that Hop hasn't heard from you yet. You're getting cocky. He risks a quick look down to where your hand, smooth against the raging boner that's been straining his pants for at least fifteen minutes now, the ring he gifted you staring back at him. Oh, fuck. He clasps his big hand over yours and looks into your eyes again. God, yes. There's a glimmer in your eyes that almost undoes him then and there. "Don't look at me like that," he mutters. 

His mind is racing, blood rushing through his body. He bites back a groan when you move your hand beneath his, your fingertips reaching his belt buckle. "What's wrong with how I look at you?"

He ignores your question, you're just teasing him right now, enjoying how he's losing himself. "You're what's distracting me. You and your damn hands." "My hands?"

He nods slowly and swallows. His body is screaming for some friction, some relief to the craziness that is this situation. You move your hand again and he lets it go, never breaking eye contact. You unbuckle his belt, popping the button of his jeans open. “You don’t have to–,” he starts, but you tut him.  "What is it about my hands?" You ask innocently as you shove your fingertips behind the waistband of his boxers, slowly dragging them and his pants down just enough to wrap your hand around him. He breathes out with a hum as you oh so slowly drag your hand along his length, eyes fluttering close.

"This okay?"

He huffs out a laugh, not daring to look at you right now, his grip on the vanity tightening, "Yeah. More'n okay."  "Now tell me what's so interesting about my hands that it's got you rock hard like this, Hopper," you say, and he can hear the damn smile in your voice. Your thumb wipes over the tip before you drag your hand down again, picking up the pace just a bit. He shakes his head and opens his eyes again to look at you. Oh, you're enjoying this a lot. His jaw tightens as he tries to find the right words. "Shut up," he grunts. "Aw, come on," you insist with a cheeky smile, "Just wanna know what goes on in that dirty Chief of Police mind of yours. What more is there when just my hands got you like this, hm?" You tighten your grip for a moment, and his belly tightens, keeping him from making a sound. 

You murmur sweet nothings, encouraging him to indulge in his thoughts. His gaze drops down to your hand stroking him. “Your rings, fuck–” He loses his words as you twist your wrist just the right way, his knuckles turning white as he’s gripping the edge with all his power.  “Oh, do you want me to take them off? Are they uncomfor–?”  “No,” he replies, hips slightly moving towards your touch, a low groan rumbling in his chest, “Keep’em on.” “You like how they feel?” You ask. He takes another deep breath, focusing on just letting your hand work him. “Like how they look on you. ‘Specially that one,” he rumbles and you know which one he’s talking about. You bite the inside of your lip, but the smile still spreads as you look at him.  “Hm, wonder why,” you muse, picking up your speed, urging him closer to the edge. He clears his throat hastily, “Don’t play stupid, you fucking know why.”

You stroke him faster, noticing his breath faltering a bit. One of his arms slings around your waist, pulling you closer to him to lean his forehead against yours, cussing under his breath. His hooded gaze bores into yours with such a carnal need and longing, almost making you lose momentum. Your free hand drifts up his torso, toying with the top button of his shirt and slowly popping it open, letting your fingertips lightly dance over his warm skin. Jim’s hips buck into your hand again and his eyes flutter close, he’s drawing in a sharp breath.  “Tease,” he growls, followed by a short, breathless laugh. You chuckle softly, “What’s the matter, big guy?” He looks at you again, a light sparkle in his eyes, “Matter’s that I– hm, won’t be able t’stop myself ‘f you keep this up.”

“Then don’t.”

He scans your face for any signs of hesitation and just finds that maddening smile of yours again. His legs and belly tighten. His other hand cups your face and smashes your lips together for a heated, bruising kiss. His mustache scratches against your skin and you whimper at feeling him nip your bottom lip. Your body freezes momentarily, and you’re only brought back to reality by Jim’s hand wrapping around yours, tightening your grip around him even more, and moving your hand with his.  “Just like that,” he hushes into your mouth and with a few more quick strokes the tension in his body finally snaps.  He’s kissing you again, muffling his broken moan, tongue swiping over your lip.

You keep your fingers wrapped just below his tip, changing the grip in small pulses. Your thumb swipes over the sensitive head, making him shudder through his release, his warmth coating your hand and shirt. Your other hand is resting above his racing heart, beating so fast you’re worried he’s gonna be dizzy. He slowly tears his lips from yours, his thumb wiping softly over your cheek.

His eyes flick down for a second and his face flushes. “Sorry ‘bout the mess. Usually have better manners than that.” You look down and snort, tugging at your shirt, “Ah, this old thing’s seen worse.“ You smile as you bring your glistening fingers up, “As for these…” 

Jim watches breathlessly as your tongue darts out to lick over each digit, releasing each with a wet pop. “You‘re enjoying yourself a lot right now,“ he notes with a smirk, smoothly tucking himself away. An innocent shrug is the only answer he gets. He rolls his eyes in feigned annoyance and clicks his tongue.

You grab his face to pull him in for another kiss. He can taste himself on your lips, feeling the blood rush through his body again, his fingertips tingling with eagerness to touch you. His hands drop to the hem of your shirt, fingers slipping beneath, shoving the fabric up your torso. You raise your arms, letting him go all the way till he tosses your shirt aside, lips immediately locking together again. You chuckle. 

“Not done with you yet,” he hums with a content sigh, “Time for payback.” “Careful with that, big guy, you’re still hurt.” He pecks your lips and smirks, “Thought we’d agreed I’ve had worse?”

I'm a slut for feedback so don't hold back and tell me how you liked this! Like, comment, reblog, slide in my asks, whatever you prefer! Thank you for reading, I hope you're eager for more.

[anystalker707]

"Show me how to kiss?"

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x [gender neutral] Reader Summary: Two imagines one in which you ask Sanji to show you what it is like to kiss and another one in which he's the one to ask. Tags: Gentleman Sanji !! / Also babygirl Sanji, ofc / Very sweet, y'kno / Sanji can't help himself / You can't either, but it's nice seeing him caving in / Very romantic Check out (Roronoa Zoro's version)

MASTERLIST

If you’re the one to ask him...

          All of that kind of got you frustrated. Robin had recommended you a book, a book that was too immersive for its own good. Since living as a pirate took most of your time, you’d never really thought about it until you started reading that; the book stuck in your mind a little too long, hence it wasn’t difficult hearing the others once in a while telling you to come back to earth.

It was difficult not thinking about the book the entire time. The way the couple kissed... What did it feel like? Having the lips of someone you like pressed against yours, their tongue running against your lip...

“I told you to pull the halyard, (y/n)! Are you listening?” Nami’s voice cut through your thoughts. Fuck, you spaced out again.

“Sorry, Nami-san!” You shout in return, finally doing as said. Damn it. That book really caught you, leaving you wondering whether you liked the story itself or if all those descriptions just caught your attention. A sigh escaped your lips as you finished pulling the sail and, along with Nami and Zoro, you finished preparing the ship for the night.

With dinner already being served, it didn’t take long until everyone was going back to their quarters—or just falling asleep wherever, in Luffy’s case. All the lights were off, only with a dim beam coming from the window on the door of the galley. Today’s night watch was Sanji’s. You sort of had been waiting for that.

Sanji had always been there for you, really—aside from all the flirting, he did take his time to check up on you and hang out, sometimes inviting you to help him finish decorating whatever dessert he was preparing for the crew just so you two could talk. It was something else, so you couldn’t really help looking at Sanji with a different tone after you started reading that damn book Robin recommended to you. His lips seemed extra attractive as he talked to you yesterday when you made him company while he prepared lunch, shaping nicely around every word he spoke. Sometimes you asked him to repeat himself; he probably thought you were dumb, damn.

Only the soft sound of the waves filled the ambient aside from the occasional creaking of wood under your feet as you started heading upstairs to reach the galley. You stood there for a long moment before you finally knocked on the door, sighing, and walked in.

“Sanji?” You closed the door behind yourself; Sanji was by the sink and looked back at you over his shoulder with a smile.

“(Y/n)-chan! What brings you here?” He grinned. “It’s already late, y’know? Why haven’t you gone to sleep already? Such a pretty warrior like you needs a good night of sleep, my dear.” And even if he just had his back to you at the moment, you could still picture how he would’ve winked otherwise. Why did Sanji have to be so charming? He kinda reminded you of the guy in the book you were reading, all romantic, with those kisses... But better, of course.

Okay, whatever, that’s not the point.

You clear your throat, shaking your head as you lean forward with your forearms on the cold surface of the counter. “Right. I want a favor.”

“A favor?” Sanji turned off the sink and turned to you, wiping his hands dry on his apron. He had no blazer or tie this time, with the top buttons of his shirt unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Your eyes quickly met his again and you nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah. Something simple, but... Like, you can refuse it.”

Sanji furrowed his eyebrows. “Right, but what’s it?”

Fuck. That was going to be harder than you thought. Your eyes averted away. “Yeah. You’re, like, the only person I trust and also the one who’s probably the best for this,” you mumbled, but immediately paused again—rambling wasn’t a good idea—, “like... Could you show me how to kiss? As I said, it’s fine if you don’t accept it, but it would be really nice if you—”

“...You’ve never kissed anyone before?” Sanji blinked a couple of times.

“Don’t tease me, Sanji,” you sighed, standing up properly and scratching the back of your neck. “I never really had the time, never really thought about it, y’know, but...”

“No, no,” Sanji sighed as he stepped closer. “That’s not what I mean, darling. The thing is, are you sure you’re going to give your first kiss to me? It’s something special, after all. You must think really well about it.”

Why did Sanji have to complicate things? It felt like you’d just explode at some point because of the whole tension, even more with how he acted. You just wanted to vanish or something, pretend that never happened.

“Sanji... You’re, like, special enough.” You shrugged, but then the way he started to blush made you rethink your words. Could that just get worse? “Ah, c’mon, I just...”

“Right, right.” Sanji quickly nodded—maybe he knew what you thought, since he was good at reading you and catching onto clues in general. “I’m honestly honored. You’re very sweet, my dear. I’m going to make it simple, okay?” He grinned wide as he usually did and walked around the counter to come closer, standing right in front of you after you turned around, leaning back against the counter and holding onto the edges.

You nodded, your eyes catching onto every little movement, from the way he adjusted his clothes out of instinct to the way there was a nervous trembling tugging onto the corner of his lips.

Sanji’s tongue poked out, running between his lips as he leaned in, a hand gripping onto the edge counter by each of your sides. His breath fanned over your face, and the smell of his cologne with a hint of tobacco filled your lungs. “Just try to go along with what I do, okay?” He whispered, waiting for you to nod before he finally closed the distance between you two.

Sanji’s lips pressed to yours softly, warm and gentle, as if he was afraid to do something wrong. His mouth broke the contact only for a second as, instead of having your bottom lip between his, he had your upper lip now; you tried to follow his gentle motions, your lips clumsily moving against his. Sanji still remained calm, keeping the same slow pace of the kiss until you could finally kiss back properly.

It was a hard task, actually. How could you keep yourself calm while you finally kissed someone? And, hold on, it wasn’t anyone. It was Sanji.

“Good?” Sanji whispered, his eyes looking into yours so intently you could feel your heart beating more while your face felt so hot; still, you nodded. He smiled in response. “Can I do it again, my dear?”

How were you even supposed to handle that? “Yes, yes,” you whispered, maybe a little more excited than you intended, but it didn’t matter.

Sanji soon pressed his lips against yours again, and things were smoother this time. The kiss felt different, even if it all was essentially the same thing as before. Your heart fluttered in your chest, your fingers tightening a little around the marble as you tried to focus more on how his lips felt against yours; from the way your lips slid together to how his breath fanned against the space between your upper lip and your nose— And oh, also how his mustache would tickle whenever it grazed your skin, the same way it would tickle when his goatee brushed your chin. It was fucking better than anything you could ever have imagined. Better than what the books could have described.

You sighed softly, about to move your hand to his shoulder when Sanji pulled away a little, but he quickly kissed you again, making you gasp when his tongue ran against your bottom lip. It made a shiver run down your spine, having something stirring in your chest as your lips parted slightly.

The kiss finally broke, and your lips still felt tingly even so. You caught your breath, blinking before you finally looked at Sanji, your heart still beating fast and face still warm.

“Sanji—”

“Was that good, my dear?” There was something different in his voice.

“Of course.” Admitting it out loud made you want to disappear again.

Sanji smiled, exhaling in relief. “That’s great.”

“What’s wrong?” You furrowed your eyebrows; your hand met Sanji’s so easily, just with a light shift as you just wanted to adjust your hand against the counter. You keep it there, though, on top of his.

Sanji’s eyes averted away, a sigh escaping his lips. “It was wrong of me.”

“...Hm?”

“Wrong to enjoy it while I was just doing you a favor. I’m so sorry, my dear,” he whispered.

“What do you mean?” You glanced away. “I... Sanji, that was so... Like, you made my heart skip beats, that...”

A red tone took over Sanji’s cheeks and his eyes widened before he looked at you. “Really?”

You nodded, chuckling. “Really.”

“Would you mind if I did it again?” He grinned again, wagging his eyebrows a little.

Your eyes averted away and you tried to bite back a smile. “...Of course not.”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

If he asks you...

          Sanji didn’t fucking know what he was going to do. The crew had been staying on an island for a while, partying away and relaxing after they saved yet other people from someone who threatened their peace. Unexpectedly, it earned him a date with one of the girls in the city that he met in a local bar through his characteristic flirting. So far so good, right? Actually, no. That was the first person who actually got that far with him, so he didn’t even know how to kiss—the only experience he had was pecking lips with whoever he got closer with, never actually kissing.

Maybe someone would help him with it? Because Sanji sure as hell didn’t want to lose that opportunity. It really was the first time he had gotten that far. He could ask Nami, right? Only if he was ready to hear her teasing at him the whole time and still dare ask him an immeasurable amount of berries for the ‘favor’. Robin would be nice, but it still wasn’t a great choice—she would be a tease in her own, harsh way, and Sanji didn’t want to lose the bit of respect he had with her. The men—out of question. No.

Then... There was you.

It didn’t seem like you would refuse his request, and Sanji was—almost—sure you knew how to kiss. Not to mention that you had such pretty lips that he couldn’t help imagining how they would feel against his and— Okay, that’s not the focus. He just had to get ready for a date, that, shamefully, wasn’t with you.

Sanji stood there in the kitchen, polishing glasses as he observed you finish eating breakfast while the rest of the crew already started to leave the galley; Zoro had chased Usopp and Luffy out of the kitchen most of the others was already off to their duties, only leaving you talking with Robin about a book she had in hand. Robin would lift her book or open at specific pages to show you something while you sipped on your juice until she eventually stood up with a sigh and left, waving at you.

Now was his chance.

“(Y/n)-swan...” Sanji’s voice cut through the galley in its mellow tone, almost as if it were a plea already, making you raise an eyebrow at him from your place at the table. “I may need your help with something, my dear.” He was thankful he was behind the counter so you wouldn’t have a full look on how weak you made you.

“What’s it?” You sipped on your juice as you looked at him. It was normal seeing Sanji blushing and fawning over people, but it wasn’t exactly your case; he used to be shy around you, though not really as squirmy as he was at the moment.

Sanji took a deep breath in a fruitless attempt of easing the fluster. “You know how to kiss, right?” He remembered you would talk with some people whenever the crew would party on islands, which was enough to make him jealous and worsen his nervousness in a way his flirting just stopped working with everyone else. Until now, it seemed.

You furrowed your eyebrows. Why was that even important? “...Yeah, I do.” The way Sanji looked at you made you rethink the events of the last week to check if you’d done anything wrong. Had you? Maybe last night when you—

“I...” Sanji sighed. “Can you come here?”

With a quick look around—was it a prank?—, you downed your juice before standing up. “What’s it?” You stood across from him, on the other side of the counter, resting your forearms over the cold marble.

Sanji took a deep breath. “I would like you to show me how to kiss.”

You blinked. Show him how to kiss. Him being Sanji. Sanji and you with your lips pressed to each other. Kissing. “What?”

“I got a date, but I... I don’t know how to kiss. I would only trust such a sweet person like you with teaching me how to do such an important thing, you know? I really hope you can help me....” His rant faded away into the back of your mind as you could feel your cheeks start to heat up while you digested everything that he said.

A string of curses escaped your lips as you let your head hang, staring at the marble in an attempt to ground yourself to reality. Like, Sanji was cute, of course, with that characteristic grace that laced his movements whenever he cooked and the cute way he smiled at you while saying something reassuring. Still, he never really paid attention to you like he did to the others, but he was there asking you such a favor. It was just a simple favor. Nothing more. Nothing deeper. Nonetheless, the fact he had a date still made your heart sink a little.

You exhaled slowly, nodding as you brought your head up again. Sanji was still speaking. That stupid fuck.

“Sanji,” you cut him off, watching him gulp, his cheeks red. “I can help you. Chill. I’ll help you.” You cleaned your throat because. After all, it was just a little favor, right? Right?

Sanji looked at you with wide eyes, incredulous that you’d actually accepted. He was very convinced that you’d accept it, of course, but not really. Like, maybe you would, but also— Okay, okay, focus. Sanji took a deep breath again and nodded, pressing his lips together. He quickly put the glass and the cloth away. What if he took too long and you changed your mind? He couldn’t risk that.

With quick steps, Sanji walked around the counter and stood in front of you. “Right... What do I need to...?” Despite how serious he tried to seem, he still held onto his apron tightly and his cheeks had that red tone while he looked at you.

It made your heart flutter a little, even if that wouldn’t matter a lot to him. Breathe deeply, (y/n), don’t make it a big deal.

“Relax, okay?” You cut off your own thoughts, cupping Sanji’s face gently. He bit on his lip, and the general way he acted almost made your heart ache. “No, don’t bite your lip.” You chuckled, running your thumb across his cheek in an attempt to help him calm down, but the way he reacted, damn... “Okay, better. Can I?”

Sanji blinked and quickly nodded. “Yes.”

Spending a little while longer looking at Sanji was a strong temptation, but it wasn’t like you were kissing a partner or something like that; there was no need to admire him and take in each detail of how pretty he was before you kissed him. You swallowed dryly and nodded, closing the distance between the two of you. Sanji gasped once your lips met, but you still held the kiss for a little before pulling away, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Is there something wrong?”

Sanji blinked a couple of times. “I—I was a little out of it. Can you do it again?”

Out of it? Or maybe he disliked it? You slowly nodded and kissed Sanji again and, this time, he tried to kiss back, though it was a little messy since he tried to rush things—you pulled away with a chuckle.

“Easy! You need to follow the pace or at least slowly establish one. Also, don’t try to use tongue out of sudden— No, you didn’t do that, but that’s just a tip.” You explained, furrowing your eyebrows a little at how his face fell a little. “Just simple kisses, okay? I kiss your upper lip while you kiss my bottom one and vice versa. No rushing.”

Sanji’s gaze averted away and he sighed, pressing his lips together, but he still nodded. This time, there was no warning before you pressed your lips to his, and he seemed to hold onto what you said, moving his lips—or at least trying to—in the same rhythm as yours, which was quite slow. His lips were warm and smooth against yours, and there was the sweet taste of whatever fruit he had eaten for breakfast earlier along with tobacco, of course. It wasn’t the best mix ever, but there was something about it that had you needing more.

You pulled away, your breath picking up a little; Sanji’s breath fanned over your face, also somewhat uneven. “Was that okay?”

“...Yeah,” he whispered.

“I will try something else,” you added. Why were you still so close while talking like that? Why were you still cupping his face? “Try to copy.”

All Sanji did was to nod this time, already closing his eyes.

It was a little better this time, smoother, since Sanji already started to get used to it, but he still faltered when your tongue slid against his bottom lip. Sanji gasped softly but accepted it, letting you trace his lip with your tongue until you went back to kissing him like before. His hands suddenly wrapped around your shoulders, squeezing them a little with the firm grip he used while trying to run his tongue against your lip as naturally as you had done to him.

If you had opened your eyes, you would see Sanji furrowing his eyebrows gently, focused as he tried his best. He wondered if you could hear how loud his heart was beating because, fuck, that was finally happening. He was finally kissing you.

Sanji’s breath was shaky when the kiss ended again and he could feel his heart fluttering with how your thumb ran across his cheek gently before your hand dropped to cup the side of his neck. His eyes met yours and he gulped.

“Ag—”

“Want one more thing?” You suggested and he couldn’t help but nod, biting his lip, and he was the one to lean in this time.

Something was different about this one kiss, and Sanji couldn’t really find out what it was—he just hummed softly, trying to follow your pace and letting your tongue run against your lip until you managed to slip your tongue into his mouth. Fuck, his brain just went blank when your tongue pressed against his, gliding against it and deepening the kiss. He was still trying to process it when you pulled away, hence he couldn’t even take in whatever you said, just able to mumble “again.”

Who were you to deny the request? Your free hand rested on Sanji’s waist and his hands adjusted their grip around your shoulders as your lips met once more. More confidence laced Sanji’s actions this moment, his tongue running against your lip as he kissed you, but you couldn’t help yourself, just pulling him a little closer and nibbling gently on his bottom lip, enough to snatch a quiet sound from him.

Both of you breathed a little heavier, holding onto each other even after the kiss was over.

“Y’know?” Sanji said, making you hum in response. “I don’t think I want to go out with that girl anymore...”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[oxymorayuri]

HI YURII, i absolutely adore the way you write and i wanted to request some hc’s or a small fic abt law reaction to reader’s pregnancy, likeee how’d he react after telling him and how those 9 months would affect law’s personality and relationship w reader

but only if u want too ofc! thx and have a wonderful dayy <3

A/N: Hi there, my darling ♡

How can I refuse such a lovely request? I feel very honored every time you guys tell me that you enjoy my stories. My heart fills with pride when I read your kind comments.

OneShot or HC? Why not both? Two are better than one!

Here are the headcanons [Law|Ace|Kid|Doffy]

Okay, let's go! Have fun with the OneShot!

✦ Pairing: Trafalgar D. Water Law x Reader ✦ Content: idk, not much, i guess? I'm pretty bad at this lol. bit angst, a little jealousy and endless fluff ✦ Spoiler: none ✦ Description: You're pregnant and Law's reaction is everything you could wish for *-* This OneShot doesn't completely fit the request, hence the HC, hope that's okay :3

Wordcount: 6383

❝𝑌𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠!❞

It's quite unusual for you to wake up in the middle of the night, but you woke up with an overwhelming craving for something sweet. Falling straight back to sleep is hopeless, so you're forced to stare around the room until perhaps drowsiness sets in.

Aside from the ticking of the clock, it's absolutely silent but you feel as if the ticking is becoming progressively louder 'til you have satisfied your ravenous appetite.

You picture it, the mousse that Ikkaku made… You have no clue how she makes it. You've tried to make it yourself, even following her recipe, but it's just not the same. However, when Ikkaku makes it, it tastes heavenly.

You can feel the foamy dessert melting on your tongue and the subtle hint of dark chocolate spreads through your mouth. Your saliva starts to gather in your mouth... That's enough! You need to eat dessert. Immediately!

The chance of waking Law is high, yet you would kill for a little midnight snack! The only thing is; you have to get out of Law's arms first...

You look at the dark haired man as he sleeps with a peaceful face. One arm around your waist, face to face.

On days like this, when you two haven't had much of each other, you'll at least have your little moments in your shared bed. With your faces turned towards each other, you talk about your busy day… Until one of you falls asleep and that one is usually you.

It's mostly you who talks about your day and Law hangs on your every word while you talk enthusiastically about all sorts of things.

Law is usually a bit reserved, because in his opinion he always does the same thing anyway and you must be getting bored of that. But that's not the case. You love the sparkle in his eyes when he talks about the things he has learned from his book, or when he has got hold of a rare coin.. He always lights up like a little boy who's been at school for the first day.

[throwback]

“…And did you know that an adult's entire intestine is 5 to 7 meters long? Imagine that.” You raise your eyebrow in disbelief.

“Five to seven meters?! No way, how is that supposed to fit?” You stroke your stomach while Law laughs at your bewilderment. Of course you believe him, you believe anything he says. He could tell you every lie and you would believe it immediately, but luckily Law doesn't lie to you. He is sometimes very secretive towards you and keeps a lot to himself like a loner, but he is by no means a liar.

“No joke, you can believe me… I could show you if you like.” Law speaks with a confident self assurance that makes you snort.

His confused eyes look at you insistently and he repeats that he could show you while raising his hand.

“Room!” You immediately realize what he's up to and you reach out with both hands to stop him. He really is planning to show you his intestines. Ah, no thanks.

You shake your head, still chuckling.

“I always believe you, my love… It's just kind of hard to imagine…” - “Yes, I know... I could hardly believe it either. That's why I took my intestine out straight away and measured it.”

You can't take any more. Law speaks with a nonchalance that brings tears to your eyes. You love him for his strangeness, that's what makes him so human.

“Anything for science.” you whisper quietly to him.

No longer interested in how long the human intestine is, you lean over and give him a little kiss. Being with Law is always a learning experience, the special thing is what you learn about Law along the way. About his heart and mind, while he talks about all the things that fascinate him.

Gosh, you adore him so much.

[throwback end]

Law's slight movement snaps you out of your reverie and for a moment you have the chance to slip out of his arms.

Silent as a ninja, you sneak out of your room and scurry into the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, you can't wait another second and spoon up the dessert right in front of the fridge.

Whilst you let each scoop melt in your mouth, you hear footsteps coming closer to the kitchen. You try to hide, but it's too late because Bepo, who also wanted to sneak into the kitchen, enters.

You look at him like a frozen deer and he gives you a similar look. With your eyes still staring at the polar bear, you slowly bring the spoon to your mouth and devour the chocolate mousse. Without your eyes parting for even a second.

“What are you doing?” You leave the spoon in your mouth and look at him with a tilted head.

“Err, what does it look like…?” Your voice a little muffled, as if you were brushing your teeth. It's obvious what you're doing? With the bowl in your hand, you sit down at the table and wave the Mink over to you.

“Come on, get over here before the mousse is gone.” A little taken aback, he blinks a few times and joins you at the table.

Of course he wants some of the chocolate wonder, so he hurries to you.

You take turns spooning from your bowl and after each bite you hold your hand to your flushed cheek. It tastes simply divine.

However, you barely exchange a word, because it goes without saying that this meeting will remain a secret. You only hear a pleasurable moan and a soft mumble in between.

A few days have passed since then and a few other unusual things have happened. Your cravings have become a little weirder, your sense of smell has increased and fish suddenly no longer tastes good to you! As soon as you smelled sushi, you felt sick to your stomach. Unusual, you thought, but it could have been something else. You didn't think anything else of it and went about your everyday duties, quickly forgetting about the oddities anyway.

Until you got up one morning and ran straight to the toilet. You felt nauseous and it came out faster than you would have liked, so you left the door open and it gushed out of you straight into the toilet.

Your dinosaur like noises woke up the grouchy Law who rubbed his eyes in a drowsy state.

Who or what is that? And why is it so loud?

Law is definitely not a morning person. Talk to him before his coffee and you will see… Well, nothing will happen except that he ignores you and turns around. He won't even talk to you before he takes a sip, but no problem. Isn't it always like this; that a bright person is together with a grumpy one?

Tired, the black haired man sits up and runs his fingers through his tangled hair while still sitting on the edge of the bed with his eyes closed.

The noise is unusually loud and seems as if it is directly in the next room… In the next room… And finally it clicks in his head. You are making that noise.

Law snaps his eyes open, being fully awake now, and hurried to the open bathroom. There he looked down at you with your head almost IN the bowl, unable to stop vomiting.

At first he stood in the doorway, looking somewhat at a loss, until he finally remembered that he was a doctor.

You weren't responsive right now anyway… So Law prepared a few things for you when you finally finished throwing up…

Concerned, he stands behind you with a glass of water in his hand. It seems to be reaaally bad. He doesn't like seeing you like this, your health is important to him, probably more important than his own.

You've noticed for a while that Law is standing behind you and you appreciate him not saying anything. You're not embarrassed, not in front of Law, he's taken care of you before when you've drunk yourself into a coma so the sight shouldn't be that strange. You had to smile a little when you noticed how he tied your hair in a ponytail, so it wouldn't fall in front of your face, while you emptied out your stomach.

“Oh god. There shouldn't be *bleurggh* anything left in my *bleurggh* stomach…” A little out of breath, you lean against the wall next to the toilet.

You're not quite sure if it's the end, but it feels all right.

“I assume it's a little better now?” Tired from throwing up, you look up at him while he hands you the glass of water with a scrutinizing look.

You can't do more than nod half heartedly.

Law walked over to the toilet and flushed the contents, which looked like two days' worth of stomach contents.

He squatted down to you and began to clean your face with a lukewarm cloth. You don't look sick. Your eyelids don't droop and your skin doesn't look too pale. You just look a little worn out, which is no wonder. After all, you've given the toilet the biggest serenade of your life.

“I should take you to the infirmary and run some tests.” His hands reach for yours. With his thumb, he gently strokes the back of your hand and pulls lightly to help you to your feet. A little wobbly on your feet, you hold on to him and smile weakly at him.

“…I'm fine, thank you my love.” A little cold water on your face should be enough, so you go over to the sink to freshen up.

“Don't argue y/n, as your captain and doctor, I'm telling you that I'll give you a check up.” You look at him through the mirror as you run your wet hands through your face and roll your eyes.

“Uh huh, as captain and doctor…”

he groans a little and takes you in his arms from behind

“And as your partner too, of course.”

He kisses you on the cheek and you lean into his embrace with a little chuckle. For just a moment, you can savor your embrace, but the very next second, you find yourself in the same position with him in the infirmary.

That whole shambling around doesn't do you any good at all, you were already feeling sick anyway and you always feel a bit dizzy when he teleports with you. You put your hand over your mouth but it's too late. You quickly rush to a garbage can and fill it with your vomit.

“Hah… Law, that wasn't so clever…” You lean on the bin with both hands as you kneel in front of it.

“Ah…uh…sorry, force of habit…” His words seem a little flustered and as you look over your shoulder you see him sheepishly stroke his beard.

Yep, force of habit… It's definitely not the first time he's teleported you somewhere. Whether he wanted to kidnap you in your busy routine or wanted to steal you away from annoying guys.

He can be a bit jealous sometimes, even if he doesn't say anything, you can see right through him. Honestly, you have to admit to yourself that you enjoy it perhaps a little too much. Law usually reacts rather passively, but at some point things start to get over his limit and he reacts, somewhat flashily…

[throwback]

It's a lovely afternoon on the Sunny, and before you went your separate ways, the Heart Pirates and the Straw Hats wanted to throw a nice party to celebrate your victory.

You had a good time together and formed strong friendships, it makes you a little sad that you won't see each other for a while… but you are sure that your paths will cross again soon.

You keep glancing back to where Law is drinking some sake with Zoro, while Usopp and Luffy were doing all sorts of silly things. You can't help giggling at the sight. Their conversations are also rather short, but somehow they both seem quite relaxed and enjoy the silence between them. Your sweet introvert…

You turn back to the ladies at the table and get into a conversation full of girl stuff and laughter. Right by your side, there's Bepo napping on the floor and while your chin rests in one hand, listening to Nami, you pat Bepo's head with the other.

At your service is none other than Sanji and he serves you with the most distinguished manners. You like Sanji, he is charming and knows how to talk to women and sometimes you allow yourself to have fun and go for it… You don't flirt back, no way! You're crazy about Law and everyone knows it, but you like to have a bit of fun.

“Here my beautiful ladies, I've allowed myself to prepare your favorite drinks.” With grace and style, he holds the tray in his hand and serves you some fresh drinks. He pushes a beautifully decorated cocktail glass in front of you, one with a light blue liquid, topped with whipped cream and blue glitter sprinkles.

You know exactly what kind of drink is in front of you and happily thank the Blondie. How thoughtful he is… he's made you your favorite drink; swimming pool!

You gleefully nip at the straw and let the refreshing drink run down your tongue. As you spoon down some of the cream, you notice that Sanji has used coconut milk ice cubes instead of water ice cubes. How creative! This way the drink doesn't get watered down and only gets creamier and that's exactly how you love your swimming pool - creamy!

“Aww Sanji, you're always so thoughtful and good to us!” With your eyes closed, you enjoy your drink. It's so well prepared that you can barely taste the alcohol; how dangerous.

With your hand on your cheek, you praise the cocktail. Nami gushes with you and sighs contentedly that this is her everyday life... and Sanji loves doing it! That's the best part.

“We're really lucky to have Sanji, aren't we?” Robin giggles, as Sanji loses his temper in a dramatic way. It's as if all the attention is making his heart leap through his chest, and on one knee he babbles something about how it's not just an honor to serve you, but his greatest joy.

He may be a little pushy but isn't he also a little funny? Your girl gang bursts out into laughter, oh dear, if you only knew how Law watches the spectacle from behind with an annoyed expression…

With his chin in his hand, Law taps his cheek a little impatiently with one finger. He can hit on whoever he wants, but does he always have to get so close to you? He's got Nami and Robin to ogle, but you're his!

He knows he doesn't have to be jealous. You're only being friendly to him, as you are to everyone, but the reaction of others is what annoys him. The fact that some people think you're flirting with them, when you're just very kind and approachable (yea guess who's not.) literally pisses Law off.

He is quite sure that no one but himself has a chance with you, in fact he knows that you can become quite different if someone crosses your line… If Law's line hasn't been crossed before… It's pretty different sometimes…

Like today for example, today Law doesn't have that much patience and since Sanji moves in your inner circle, his limits are crossed quite quickly. And maybe all that sake is also to blame.

Because of your lively conversation, you realize far too late, how Law has formed his blue dome over you and just as Nami remarks it, you find yourself already on Law's lap.

Bewildered, you look up at him while his gaze is somewhat serious on Sanji. When he felt your gaze on him, he looked you in the eye with his typical grin and spoke with an absolute calmness that made your heart flutter.

“You all right?” You widen your eyes a little and raise both eyebrows. Is he serious? As if it's such a normal thing to just teleport me onto his lap out of nowhere, like it's the most normal thing in the world.

You know exactly why he did it. You saw the look he gave Sanji, but okay, you just play along. Let's see what happens.

“Yes, of course. Do you need something, love?”

He comes a little closer to you, his gaze melts the ice in your drink because you're getting so hot, but you try not to show it and smile at him innocently.

Before he reaches for the straw, he looks provocatively over to Sanji and drinks from your cocktail.

“You talked so highly of it, I really wanted to try it too, you know?” - “Sure…” like hypnotized you watch him sip from your drink while his eyes rest on your lips.

“You've got some whipped cream on your lip…” you want to quickly wipe the cream away with your hand but Law holds it tight and speaks in a low mellow voice "no, let me..."

Barely a second later, his lips are already on yours and he licks the cream off your lips in a luscious kiss.

You didn't even realize what was happening to you as you sat frozen on his lap. You can only vaguely make out the annoyed murmur of Zoro telling you to get a room or Nami cheering joyfully. You slowly come back to your senses and lean close to his ear, to whisper a few sweet words…

“I love sweet kisses… how 'bout we continue on the Polar Tang?”

Honestly, you love the way Law steals you away. He doesn't do it in an aggressive way, but in a way that makes it clear who you belong to. He never confronts the others, he just shows how in love you are with each other.

If that's not territory marking then you don't know BUT you love it.

His reaction is as expected. You know that look all too well. There's something overwhelming about the way Law's beautiful eyes run over your face as you innocently bite your lip. You could swear his eyes darken and he runs his tongue over his lower lip with a grin.

His grip tightens and his laugh deepens so that you can feel the vibration of his voice.

“Good idea.” He places a small kiss on your cheek before saying goodbye to the others. The question marks are written all over your face. You really just wanted to tease him, but you could have guessed what is about to happen.

You barely managed to wave goodbye before you found yourself back in your room on the Polar Tang. And well, you know it's obvious what will happens next… ;)

[throwback end]

“All right, so far so good. Now just a small blood check and then we'll be on the safe side.” His words bring you out of your memory and you look at his back. At a small table, he prepares a syringe to take some of your blood.

With concentration, he turns around and traces along your arm to locate a suitable vein.

“Could you make a fist?” You do as he says and he nods in response. When he had found a suitable spot, you were allowed to relax your hand and he smoothly drew the blood into the tube.

You watch him in complete devotion as he looks attentively at the syringe. Your eyes meet for a moment before he quickly returns to his task and presses a band aid onto the needle mark.

“That's it.” Again, he turns away from you to dispose the materials properly. A little disappointed, you slide down with your butt from the stretcher. You wish you could have watched him a little longer. He always looks so handsome when he's fully concentrated on his work.

“When will the results be ready?” you ask curiously as you look over his shoulder. By now you're feeling much better, you're sure it's nothing serious.

“Give me a few hours and I should have something out.” - “Hardworking as ever.” You gently stroke his shoulder as you went to turn around and Law quickly reached for your hand.

He gently pulls you close to give you a kiss on the back of your hand, his eyes always have a powerful effect on you and your cheeks turn a soft pink.

“We should go for breakfast, you should regain your energy. Go ahead, I'll clean up and come straight away.” Your heart softens at his care.

“I'll make us some coffee then.” Satisfied, he nods at you and lets go. In a good mood, you walk along the corridors of the cold Polar Tang, humming a bright melody.

The day went on as usual, the work on the Polar Tang was pure routine. A few small repairs here and inspections there. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just as you were about to leave the engine room to write your report, you bump into your friend.

“Heyyy y/n, already done with work?” You look up from your notes and have a chat with Ikkaku. After an waaay too short talk, you part ways as her beeper has gone off and she quickly went back to work. Apparently she has a lot to do... Your eyes go back to your list. You need to talk to Law, because you're slowly running out of materials for the maintenance of your submarine.

You've been underwater for quite a while now and you should be ascending soon. Ikkaku could probably use some materials too, maybe you should do a general inventory and make a supply list with Law. Just as you were about to turn around to go to Ikkaku to start with her, your beeper sounds.

A quick glance at your black device tells you that Law wants to talk to you, so you turn around again.

So, then you'll start the list tomorrow. After all, you'll be traveling for a few more days before you reach the next island...

You can't quite believe your ears and you stand in front of Law with your mouth open, completely frozen. Your pretty brain has to process this information first. You actually want to say something but don't quite know how to start the sentence.

“Y-you say I'm pregnant?!!!” You automatically reach for your belly.

“How could this happen?!” you look up at Law, unsure of how you should feel. To be honest, you're a little overwhelmed, but it's not actually a bad thing. You're actually at the age where it's appropriate, aren't you?

Law, who is leaning against his table in front of you, takes a breath to explain to you HOW this could have happened, in a physical and medical sense.

With knitted eyebrows, you shake your hand in front of Law in order to stop him. You know how, but somehow you're surprised. You often hear that the birth control failed here and there and the woman got pregnant, but somehow you think it would never happen to you and now it's happened to you.

Surprise, surprise.

You drop into a chair and look a little defeated.

“Shit…” you mutter. Law takes the results of your blood report and tries to change the subject.

“But hey, judging by your results, you're perfectly healthy and have the best possible condition for the baby." He turns the page to check a few more things.

“We should probably just get some more sun and fresh air for your wellbeing. Your vitamin D levels are a little low… No wonder down here…” In his head, he makes a mental note to talk to Bepo and Hakugan about surfacing today.

That sounds as if…

“Do you want me to keep the child?” You look up at him, a little surprised. A pleasant excitement spreads through your chest at the thought that Law will be the father of your child.

His eyes peek over the edge of the paper, looking down at you. He examines your glazed eyes, places the papers on the table and crouches down in front of you to be closer to you.

“Do you want to keep the child, y/n?” he notices that you're a little unsure, but that's okay. That's normal... but he will follow your final decision. No matter what you decide, he will stand by you and make sure you are both safe and happy.

Somehow it all feels surreal. You and Law are having a baby. That will change everything now, but you're longing to find out what it's like. You shrug your shoulders a little sheepishly.

“Uh-huh… kind of, yea.” Somewhat embarrassed, you smile at him. For you, getting together with Law has always been like hitting the jackpot, but you'd never thought about you two becoming parents.

But dear, if you only knew how Law sees you… He'd be lying if he said he wasn't happy about becoming a dad, but right now you're coming first, since you're feeling 'a little under the water'. [sorry but I couldn't help myself, lol]

“Well, I guess we have something to celebrate, don't we?“

Law's grin makes you smile. Somehow he always pushes the right buttons with you. With his charming looks, his cunning manner and clever little head, he always manages to mess with your feelings. You've never felt this way about anyone before and you weren't exactly a virgin before… Now that you're becoming parents, you feel like you're starting to really mature with Law.

“How are we going to tell them?” Parties are not his thing, you know that, but as soon as the others find out, they want to throw a party anyway.

He seems to be thinking deeply as he plays with your fingers.

“Maybe we'll just throw a party…” you look down at him in surprise, but he explains why.

“I know for a fact that we won't be able to avoid it…” a small giggle slips out of your mouth and you gently squeeze his hand, but Law breaks your eye contact.

“Well, I won't be able to get around it…” You're never against a fun party, but after an hour Law's social battery is usually drained and he disappears into his study.

“Not a bad idea, actually. If we plan the party, we can be sure that it won't be too chaotic. Let's keep it simple.” Law is pleased that you share the same thought. Well, it's probably because you can't party as hard as usual, but it doesn't make you sad. Somehow the joy slowly sets in.

Law gets up and pulls you up with him while you both hold hands. Without saying a word, he takes you in his arms and you breathe in his calming scent. At this very moment you just feel so good, even though you were so scattered until a few moments ago, you are sure that everything will work out with Law by your side.

You're kind of excited. The crew thinks you're throwing a party because you're resurfacing today and they believe that cheap lie, but what pirate crew needs a reason to throw a party? They probably don't give it a second thought and are happy to have food and booze under the sun.

In a good mood, you hum a little tune in the kitchen while you prepare a few treats in the kitchen. At some point, Shachi comes by and you tell him that he shouldn't be snacking, but he just laughs cheekily at you and stuffs a filled onigiri into your mouth. You hum contentedly as you taste the tuna cream.

“You're getting better and better y/n, the shape is a real triangle this time too!” you smack him on the back of the head and huff in offense.

He's used to it and your blows don't even really hurt so he just laughs as he rubs his head.

“I'm sure Law will be more than pleased.” Without a care in the world, he picks another treat from the little buffet you've set up and disappears into the corridor.

Your gaze rests on your bitten onigiri. You are secretly thrilled that he thinks Law will be happy. You wonder if he is looking forward to your current situation in general.

After you surfaced with the Polar Tang, Law and a few others set up the deck. Tables and benches were set up and you and Ikkaku hung up some hanging garlands to make it look more festive. After putting the finishing details on the final appearance, you put your hands on your hips in satisfaction while Law stepped to your side.

“They really don't suspect anything…” he whispers in your ear.

You just smile to yourself. After all, it just seems like you're having a party as usual. The buffet, the decorations, the festive lights and a small bar on the deck are just the same as usual.

Law doesn't know it, but you couldn't help yourself and had to tell Ikkaku about it immediately. After all, she's your best friend. You can definitely trust her not to spill the beans and it shouldn't be too difficult because you're throwing the party today anyway. She even offered to prepare a few desserts. With hearts in your eyes, you accepted her offer, of course.

All in all, it was an evening like any other with your crew. There was laughter, some dancing, a lot of goofing around and singing. Avoiding the alcohol was quite difficult, but luckily Ikkaku was your knight in shining armor. She always swapped your cup with hers, with only water inside, in an discreet fashion.

As the sunset glowed over your submarine and the atmosphere on deck calmed down allowing everyone to enjoy the last rays of sunshine, Law decided that now was the perfect time to spread the news.

He raised his glass and tapped it lightly with his fork so that everyone's attention was drawn to him by the clinking sound.

A few of the pirates look up at him in surprise. It's not that unusual for Law to make a speech from time to time, but there shouldn't be any special reason for him to make one today. Or maybe there is?

Glances go round among themselves. You smile knowingly to yourself as you watch the confusion on their faces.

“Sometimes there are unexpected twists and turns on our travels and sometimes it's the best thing that could have happened to us. In the end, everything always turned out well and that's only because we trusted and helped each other. We may be pirates, but we are also…” - “A FAMILY” Penguin and Sachi cry and shout in unison.

Law's words are unexpectedly touching. His words are always wise and uplifting… but this time he not only speaks from the heart, but with it and everyone is moved to the core.

You could cry because you know why he uses such beautiful words. With a satisfied grin, he agrees with the men.

“Exactly. We are a family and today y/n and I want to announce something to you.” Little by little, questioning glances wander to you and Law nods to you with an encouraging expression on his face. He now leaves you the honor of continuing.

“I'm pregnant!” you blurt out in a squeaky voice.

The looks go back and forth between you two in a rather funny way while the surprise is written all over everyone's face.

All of a sudden, the group erupts into a joyful roar and congratulations are given to you. Ikkaku can finally take you in her arms, her eyes overflowing with tears. A few of the men are shaking hands with Law while Bepo rushes up to Law and almost crushes him in a hug.

Your heart bursts as you watch the cheering crowd and stroke Ikkaku's back in a soothing manner as she utters some incomprehensible words of joy…

In the chaotic happiness, your and Law's eyes met. He seems as happy as you feel.

The atmosphere were already great before, but now it's just amazing.

They raise a toast to both of you and your little one, while Penguin and Shachi fight over which of them gets to listen and feel your belly first. You have to laugh at their goofiness, because there's not much of the typical pregnancy belly to be seen yet.

Bepo comes running towards you with cute beady eyes and gives you a warm embrace. He snuggles up to your head and you brush against his soft fur…

You hear his soft sniffle and in a low voice he whispers to you how happy he is for you guys.

“You're going to be great parents!” You wipe a small tear of joy from his face and pull yourself together so that you don't burst into tears yourself, but you're just too emotional. Your walls collapse and the tears roll down your cheeks.

The rest of the gang decides to come up to you and engages even Law in a huge group hug. It touches you more than anything how happy your friends are for you.

You can hardly wait to tell your friends the Straw Hats. You wonder how they will react. You secretly hope that it will be the reason you'll see each other sooner than you thought.

You really want to go shopping with Ikkaku, Robin and Nami for the baby!

You let the evening fade away together until at some point it was just you and Law.

The evening got a bit chilly and before you could even get cold, Law put his coat around you. Thanking him with a quiet smile, you can still see the joy on his face… And you? You can still hardly believe it. You're going to be parents… but you're still thinking about how Law really feels. He's obviously happy but you wish you could hear what he's thinking.

“Law, tell me, how do you feel?” Your eyes are fixed on the sea. You watch the glittering reflection of the moon in the water, while his gaze rests on you.

“I don't know. I kind of feel everything. Excitement, joy but also some fear.” Your gaze quickly goes up to him, but his eyes are now on the open sea.

The fact that he feels the same as you is somehow reassuring. You're a bit jealous of him for always keeping such a cool head, because unlike you, he seemed so calm and confident the whole time.

“You know y/n, when I went through the results today I could hardly believe my eyes when I realized why you were feeling bad.” With his arms leaning against the railing, he smiled down at you.

“I thought my heart stopped working and when it started beating again, a new feeling was born...” The glimmer in his eyes is as calming as a fire, that is about to fade out.

You are not used to so many touching words and your heart starts beating quicker with each word. The way he says everything is saved in your brain like a video and you dare not to speak a word.

He turns his upper body towards you and moves a little closer to gently brush a strand of hair out of your face. A little hesitantly, he begins to speak again, as if searching for the right words in your eyes.

“A feeling... that I thought I had long lost… The feeling of having a family.”

Okay y/n don't cry. Don't cry!

Law kisses your forehead as he wipes a tear from your face. The feeling of his warm lips disappears faster than you'd like, though, and Law takes a step back to get down on one knee.

With his gaze fixed on your eyes, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box. You know what this means but you fail to move or say anything. Wide eyed, you follow Law's movements.

“I wanted to do this much earlier… but somehow I didn't find the right time… or maybe I was just waiting for this very moment?” Law isn't quite sure himself where he gets these words from, but so much has changed after today. He opens the box and your gaze falls on the sparkling ring.

“Y/n will you marry me?”

With quivering lips, you nod at him while tears flow like a waterfall and you throw yourself onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You usually have a lot to say, but this time Law has left you completely speechless.

You could have said yes a thousand times but it would never be enough to make it clear how much you want to be his wife.

Masterlist

A/N: Oh well… Law. I bet you'd be great as a dad.

I hope you enjoyed it ♡

[chevroletdean]

spanking [sam winchester] ── ✮⋆˙

kinktober 2024 ship: sam x afab!fem!reader genre: smut to note/warnings: explicit – minors dni, vague descriptions of the reader, established relationship, fingering, dirty talk, orgasm denial, spanking as the title suggests ofc word count: 2.4k a/n: happy belated october, i guess. it was a busy month for me, but i wanted to at least finish the prompts i've put up on the list, even if it takes me into november!

You’re not even entirely sure how you ended up in this position.

Sam’s been awfully quiet, all day. If you didn’t know it any better, you’d say your boyfriend is in a bad mood. But his demeanor today is not so much glooming as it is brooding. He’s pensive, if anything. Focused.

The lead you two have been following is a complicated one. You’ve spent a good week on this case already and with each dead end, the frustration level increased. Sam and you are a good team, smart thinking and hard working.

But this is where you come to a parting of ways regarding hunting styles.

You know you’ll go crazy if you have to read one more word. You need a break, if only for a thirty minute nap. Or, judging by the soft growl of your stomach, maybe some food. Anything but more of this digging into a nothing-burger, pun intended. Sam on the other hand is too stubborn when it comes to this part of hunting; he’s not satisfied until he finds a clue.

You’d jokingly call him a nerd, were it not for the fact that you cherish this hard-working attitude of his. Good for him, but as for yourself, you’re definitely done for today.

“I’m beat, Sammy,” you groan and toss your laptop aside. “I can’t even look at another article anymore. The words are literally blurring before my eyes and you wanna know what they’re starting to spell out for me?”

French fries, burgers and chicken nuggets are the words floating around before your inner eye. If you mentally squint, you might see a chocolate milkshake thrown in there.

You wait for Sam to make a guess.

No response.

When you look over to your boyfriend, he’s right next to you – although you half expected to see an empty spot with how silent the room has been for the last couple of hours. He’s seated on his side of the bed still, back straight against the headboard, a heavy book in his lap. His eyes are glued to the pages and his brows are knitted tightly together in deep concentration.

He had a habit of using bookmarks, but keeping it lodged in the last spot until he’d put the book away again. You see it peeking out from somewhere in the middle and estimate that he’s flipped about fifty pages ahead already. He’s only started reading this book this morning. 

You pout and nudge Sam’s side in a desperate attempt for some of his attention.

The only response you get then is an unenthusiastic: “Hm?” Even then he doesn’t bother peeling his eyes off the book.

You know you have to test him.

“They’re spelling: Aw, shucks, I forgot to put on a pair of panties tonight and all I can think about is Sam’s hands between my thighs, making me cum on his fingers,” you ramble dryly, carefully gouging out his reaction. Which is non-existent basically, disappointingly but unsurprisingly.

He doesn’t even stir at your lewd words. Then again, you know how difficult it is to distract him when he’s locked down into research-mode; from experience. He’s clearly not listening and considering the nature of your teasing words (and your own cranky state), you take offense to the fact that he’s prioritizing the stupid lore over his girlfriend right now.

You nudge him again, harder this time and he finally protests quietly as you smack his shoulder.

“What was that for?,” Sam huffs and at last he meets your gaze.

“Were you even listening?”

With another sigh, Sam closes the book in his lap at last, after sliding the bookmark between the pages. “Sorry, what was that?”

Your pout turns into a frown and you roll your eyes as if to silently say ‘Nope, it’s too late now.’ Instead, you cross your arms in front of your chest. “I need a break,” you summarize within an exasperated sigh. “Let’s grab something to eat, c’mon.”

“Actually,” Sam starts and you already know you don’t like where this is going. “I think I’m onto something here, but there’s some more of that salad bowl in the fridge, if you wanna take that.”

Scoffing, you climb out of bed and head out of the room. Your steps are bordering on stomping and it is only in the last second that you decide slamming the door behind you would be a tad too much. Part of you admires Sam for his diligence, but you’re also absolutely baffled that he can’t take a hint.

A break wouldn’t hurt him either and you honestly crave some quality time with your boyfriend instead of being stuck doing research with just a hunting buddy. Lately, it all feels way too distant, thanks to this stupid case.

Besides, a salad? You secretly hope there‘s something with a little more cholesterol in the kitchen, but as you open the fridge it’s practically empty. Sam and you have prepared a giant salad bowl for lunch earlier today, the leftovers of which don‘t exactly suit your current cravings, but they will have to suffice for now.

You know it would taste a whole lot better if Sam would be having dinner with you, but alas, you are eating by yourself. Once you’re finished, you don’t even bother to properly clean up. Although no longer starving, you’re still grumpy. Rightfully so, you decide when you enter your shared room again to find Sam in the exact same spot you left him. Seriously, he hasn’t even budged a little.

Another sigh leaves your lungs, “You’re still reading? Find anything yet?”

“Nothing.”

Another ten pages or so, you guess from the space between the bookmark and his thumb. He’s read another ten pages in the time you’ve somewhat filled your belly with vegetables – and he’s still not done.

Rolling your eyes, you allow yourself to fall back into bed, shoving your laptop aside purposefully. You might not be hangry anymore, but you’re still cranky and frankly, touch-starved. Some attention from your boyfriend really shouldn’t be too much to ask for, after all.

However, your decision to scoot closer to Sam isn’t exactly rewarded with any enthusiasm. Even as you wrap your arm around his middle and mumble something about an after-dinner nap, Sam’s persistent on ignoring you. Even if it’s not on purpose, the rejection makes you feel rather neglected.

Beyond annoyed by his dismissal, you firmly nudge Sam’s arm up and drape yourself over his lap, replacing the book on his thighs with your head.

“Sweetheart-,” Sam groans, but thanks to your actions, the book slips out of his hands. “Do you mind?”

You muster a pout in his direction and watch as he flips through the book, trying to find the last page he was on. “Sorry,” you mumble, “for wanting to cuddle a little with my boyfriend.”

Sam’s counter-argument, whatever it was, dies on his tongue as he sees your frustrated scowl. “Fine, okay,” he mutters and shifts a little, adjusting your position so you’re comfortably lying across his lap. “Just this chapter, alright?”

Your counter-argument, whatever it was, is forgotten the second he combs his long fingers through your hair. You relax, laid down on your stomach across his lap and he places the book on your back, as if to hold you in place there. It’s better than nothing and you’re somewhat happy that he at least remembered his ability to multitask.

Needless to say, though, it’s far from enough – so can he really blame you when you squirm around restlessly?

After a couple of minutes, his free hand switches from patting your head to settling on your lower back. He traces the dip of it, running his palm across the curve of your ass before letting it rest on the back of your thighs. His thumb mindlessly strokes your inner thigh, making you arch into the touch.

“Sammy–,” you whine.

He gives your leg a warning squeeze and your breath hitches. The message is clear: He doesn’t want you to move a muscle, not even your tongue.

“This would be going way faster if a certain someone didn’t make me drop the book earlier,” he scolds, albeit his tone doesn’t hold much of an edge to it. It’s taunting enough for you to understand he’s playfully punishing you without holding any real resentment.

“But I–”

Smack.

You gasp as his palm lands on your rear in a quick motion. The sound echoes off the walls. The sting isn’t as painful as it is surprising. Instinctively, your back arches.

Sam’s voice is lowered, husky and stern, “You know how many pages you’ve made me reread?”

Before you can reply, he slaps your ass for the second time and instead of a coherent response, another yelp falls from your lips.

“Twelve,” Sam continues and gently but firmly presses the spine of his book onto the spine of your back, applying just enough pressure to keep you in place.

Against your better judgment you call him out on his bluff with a gruff, “If you know where you left off, then why are you rereading the–?”

Another slap interrupts your words, this one harder than the previous two. You whimper softly and feel heat creeping up your neck and down your core. Clearly Sam doesn’t appreciate you talking back, although his large hand smoothes over the fabric of your jeans in an almost apologetic manner.

“Don’t get smart with me, baby,” he scolds, flips to the next page, and pats your ass again, lighter this time. “Eight more to go, think you can keep count?”

You blush and nod, coyly, which only earns you yet another smack down your ass.

“Words, princess,” Sam reminds you.

“Yes,” you sob softly. “S-seven more to go.”

Seemingly satisfied, Sam’s fingers dance down to the apex of your thighs, soothingly massaging your tender flesh through the thick denim. “Good girl,” he hums.

Your fingers curl into fists around the bed sheets as you feel Sam’s hand wander around your hip and towards the front of your pants. With practiced ease he unbuttons them, before tugging the fabric down. Your breath hitches in your throat as he yanks the waistband over your butt, down to your mid-thighs.

As the chill air hits your bare skin, a shudder runs down your spine.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Sam rasps. “You weren’t lying about not wearing any panties, huh?”

Squeezing your thighs together, you flush in embarrassment. So he was listening to you after all? Bastard was just waiting to use it against you at the perfect time!

Sam’s hand travels between your legs and you stiffen as you feel his fingertips ghost across your folds, as if he intends to flip them like the pages. The soft rustling of paper above you confirms your suspicions that he’s still occupied with the book, speaking of. As he flips the page again, his palm connects to your bare skin once more.

You cry out softly and shakily, your head dropping low as you struggle to stay still.

A deep chuckle reverberates above you, “What’s wrong, forgot your numbers?”

Flip.

Smack!

“Six, five!,” you whimper, continuing to count down.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?,” Sam placates, letting his fingers slip between your thighs again. “This is what you wanted, no? My hands all over you? How’d you phrase it again?”

His fingers glide through your soft heat, which is already slick with arousal. You moan when his index and middle finger reach your clit to circle it slowly. Another whimper is all you can manage as you buck your hips, desperate for more friction.

“Making you cum all over my fingers, was it?” Sam whispers.

His digits tease your hole, only to withdraw a second later.

“I asked you a question,” he sighs, feigning a thinning patience. “Can’t even remember her own words, but is desperate enough to try and distract and tease me, so naughty.”

“Y-yes,” you answer. “Was talking ‘bout how I want you t’make me cum on your fingers.”

Flip. Smack!

You fail to stifle your sobbing. Your skin feels raw and you can only guess how reddened it is in color by the ache his touch causes afterwards. He always runs a soothing hand across the spot he just hit, but all it does is solidify the tingling sensation.

“Let’s see if I can help you with that,” Sam muses, pretending to be only half-interested. “After… how many pages again?”

“Four,” you say through gritted teeth, fully aware of his little game here.

“Right, four more pages,” Sam echoes and rewardingly squeezes your thigh again. The burn on your ass remains untouched for now, as does the ache of your soaking pussy. “Be a good girl and let me finish them, hm?”

He takes his time as he does and you’re left to wait in his lap, unable to move much. The only indication of what’s coming is the familiar sound of paper rustling, followed by him spanking you again. Four turns into three, into a two, and the agonizing one.

By the time he’s reached the last page, your head feels light and heavy all at once. You’re dizzy and sore, an uncomfortable numbness spreading down your bottom.

“Sammy,” you whine impatiently.

“Shh,” he shushes and briefly kneads your tender flesh. “Don’t make me start over.”

That’s enough to shut you up, but you’re still panting breathlessly in his lap, silently waiting for him to put the book aside.

Finally, he flips to the last page. You bite your tongue, that pretty round ass of yours arching up as if you were trying to get his hands on you more than he was. Fully prepared to feel his palm again, the word ‘Zero’ lingers on the tip of your tongue.

The impact never comes.

Instead, Sam places the bookmark between the pages, closes it and places it aside. Confused, you try to sit up, but he nudges you back down by the hips, pinning you to his lap. He shoves his other hand down your legs, thrusting a finger right into your soppy cunt.

“Time to reward my girl for being so patient,” Sam purrs. He adds another finger, pumping both in and out of you while his thumb finds your sensitive clit. “No cumming before I say zero, got it?”

The sound that escapes your lungs is half moan half protesting sob and fully incohesive response, “Please.”

“So clingy and needy for me,” Sam teases, curling his fingers inside you to hit the spongy spot within you. “You’ve held on ‘till now, what’s another countdown from twelve?”

credit & links: ao3 ──〃★ dividers ──〃★ request here taglist: comment a book emoji 📚 to be added to the sam x reader taglist (please note: ageless blogs will only be tagged in fluff and angst posts)

@s7nburn @figurantedefilme

[iatnen]

Thank you for replying to me! 🙈

Do you have character sheets for Daniel? I’d love to see how you characterise him and what kind of personality he has. I have no artistic talent AT ALL so I live vicariously through different artists on tumblr who draw their MC, so thank you for entertaining me ❤️

HI AGAIN ANON

I actually did not have a character sheet ready when you sent this so I had to scramble to make one for you LMAO I sorta based it on @choccy-milky’s char sheet since I had no idea how to make one…… Also kinda crazy how he looks so different than when I first drew him just a week ago…

But erm yeah I guess I can try to tell a little bit about Daniel’s character even though I still haven’t thought too deeply about it. I’ll try to keep it brief 😰

Basic description of Daniel’s personality:

Competitive: likes to win/be the best, loves sports (Quidditch ofc 😼 !!!), a bit of a perfectionist, gets frustrated with little mistakes

Stubborn: doesn’t know how to quit, the type of guy to go to Quidditch practice even when he’s sick, needs a lot of convincing to get him to listen 😅, when he’s locked in he’s LOCKED IN

Independent: prefers to handle things on his own, doesn’t like receiving help from others, can work in a team but would just be off doing his own thing

Emotionally reserved: isn’t great with emotions especially his own, bottles up feelings/ignores them, often leans more towards being logical in decision-making situations rather than emotional

Awkward: ………yeah 👍

Lowkey just a chill guy who doesn’t gaf (but actually does secretly gaf)

As for his relationship with Sebastian aside from the canon game events, they both love quidditch so that bonded them even closer together as teammates. I think that slowly they both begin to mutually notice each other but don't want to speak up in fear of ruining their friendship and also they’re just in denial…. So they resort to just teasing each other and being like “let’s kiss each other to see what kissing a girl feels like” 😅

I’m so sorry it’s not really detailed…. Like I said I haven’t thought much about it/still in progress of building him and also cuz I didn’t want to make this post too long cuz who wants to read all that yap. BUUUUT I am drafting up a fanfic about them, not sure how long I want it to be tho 😰 Hopefully that will give you guys more info of his character and see their dynamic in action. WRITING IS SO HARD kudos to all you writers !!! If only I can write as good as I can draw 😿 Don’t expect it to be up anytime soon tho IT MIGHT NEVER EVEN BE POSTED WHO KNOWS !!!! DON’T EXPECT ANYTHING !!!! I PROBABLY SHOULDN’T TELL YOU THAT IF I CANT PROMISE IT BUT WHATEVS !!!! 😰😰😰

[th3-steambird]

Hiiii:) could I please request some Scaramouche/Wanderer fluff?🩷

OFC 💙💙💙✨✨✨✨

~Without your hat, my dearest hat guy.~

Warnings: none

Genre: fluff, Gn!reader x Wanderer (No pronouns and bodily descriptions but written with Fem!reader in mind 😅), 

An: Ofc I can 💙 I hope your not disappointed 😭😭 Ily your works and I hope you like this one 🫣 If its bad you can tell me 💙

Summary: Your boyfriend always has a (annoyingly big) hat which serves him no purpose aside from aesthetic and to hide his cute blushing face! So when you see a group of birds, a mother protecting her eggs from a ruined nest, you finally get an idea on how to use his hat 😏

“Without your hat, my dearest hat guy”

“You’re just, my dearest guy right? Isn’t that nice?” You insist, your pouting face already starting to quell your boyfriend’s annoyance. “Tsk. First, I should be your only ‘guy’. Second, that does not excuse you taking my hat while I was asleep. Can I not have a night when you don’t try something?” He scoffed, huffing in already waning irritation. His sharp gaze met your huffy one as you continued to stare at him with a look akin to a puppy. Thats hardly fair, in all honesty, who allowed such a cute human to exist? He thought as his expression softened. “Argh, argh fine, how long do you think those birds are going to use my hat as a nest?” He demanded sharply, yet with no bite. The wanderer  decided also to deny the way his chest seemed to leap when your expression brightened into a smile.

“…Hmm…maybbbee a month or two?-”

“You’re explaining to Nahida, not me.” He shot back, rubbing his forehead while sighing, his mind already on the many questions he will receive both from The Dendro archon and his peers in the Akademiya. How troublesome. As if that torture method in the name of homework wasn’t enough. “You owe me  days of kisses and a month of cuddles for this.” He huffed, turning to meet your eyes again, trying to keep his usual stern demeanor that always seemed to disappear with you. Damn you and your pretty face.  

His words, though, brought out a cheeky smile from you as you spread your arms cheerily, “Oh, I’m rich in those. I think I’m paying extra.” You declared as he sighed, pulling him into a hug and kissing his forehead gently, making his whole body feel weird and warm. He gently nuzzled your chest with his head affectionately, reminding you of a cat. Fiercely affectionate but in denial of so. ‘Scarameow…’ you thought to yourself, causing you to giggle lightly. The wanderer bumped your chest, already knowing you well enough to think you were making fun of him for the nth time.

“…What?” Nahida gave you two a confused smile, seemingly still trying to absorb the situation. How ironic, the goddess of knowledge herself struggling to comprehend the wanderer let someone (who survived) take his hat and use it for a bird nest of all things! Wow…was he…growing? Perhaps she was tearing up like a proud mother, so happy the wanderer seemed to have finally let someone close to his heart again. “Sooo…Yesss…would you mind explaining to all our dear guy’s classmates, oh greatest dendro archon?” You asked weakly, quite embarrassed. You could also immediately tell that the ‘guy’ in question was holding back a laugh and probably a couple of teasing words that might get him in trouble with Nahida.  “I…see. Well, birds usually will live in a nest for maybe a month or two? So hat guy…sure…I can explain to your classmates in the meantime.” Nahida offered, outstretching her hand with a pleasant smile. Wanderer seemed to relax at that, his shoulders slightly less tense- as tense it could get, anyway. “…Alright-“ You nudged him on the shoulder, giving him a sharp glance, “I mean, -Thank-you“ he managed, the words obviously not often leaving his lips. 

“Awww…they hatched!!!” You gushed, gasping excitedly, tugging his arm as if he didn’t have eyes too. He sighed, turning to look at the nest of birds, a mother and her newly hatched chicks, with a appalling gaze. This nest, by the way, was still inside his hat. How irritating it was. To be fired by questions every day about where his hat went, and how someone actually convinced him to lend it. Usually he didn’t even allow anyone to touch his hat, much less borrow it for a good time. 

“Yay. Do you think I’m getting that back any time soon?” He sighed in an exasperated tone, glancing at the birds nested in his property. They looked very comfortable. Maybe he wouldn’t mind them staying there a few more months.

“Nope. Sooo…I guess I still owe you more cuddles and kisses?” You giggled, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Of course you do. And there is interest.”

“I’d be happy to pay~”

THANK YOU SM FOR FIRST REQUEST 💙💙💙💙💙 

[loving-n0t-heyting]

Finished the megan phelps roper autobio a few days ago. Left me with some thoughts.

The first thing to say is that it was very well written and interesting, especially earlier on pre-exodus, in its portrayal of the wbc. There was smth especially captivating about how she described what was essentially a soft coup within the church transforming it from a consensus-run collective to a formalised patriarchal gerontocracy—its worth reading if for no other reason than to get an insiders visceral feeling of what its like to live in that kind of an activist/religious community from birth

There is this tone the book adopts, tho, especially towards the end, which is obviously absolutely integral to its appeal but nevertheless offputting to me. Its a sort of contrite attitude, portraying her decision to leave and denounce the church as an act of penance for the vile crime against humanity of living a life of Hate. Again, clearly the book wouldnt sell without that line, its the essence of her entire personal brand as an author and speaker (the high market value of which—tho she ofc does not say this in print—must have featured at least somewhat in her decision to leave, if by no other means than relieving certain anxieties about her ability to sustain herself afterward). So its not surprising she would put it so front and centre.

But approaching this penitence objectively it just seems... kind of misplaced? Not that i have anything against public acts of apology and grovelling! But, frankly, its hard to read the account and not conclude she is much more of a victim than anyone she protested or besmirched into hurt feelings. Partly by her family in the form of the inevitable abuse attendant upon being raised in that kind of insular fortress community—tho she does a good job not lazily smearing them as some kind of sadistic cult, part of why i thought her description was so interesting and insightful. But also by counterprotesters and others riled up by her churchs activism: she describes their having faced sexual harassment, physical intimidation and violence, even arson in the face of what were clearly and pointedly constitutionally protected exercises of free speech. All of the former manifestly worse than the latter. Often with cops looking the other way! In a just world these targets of her "hate" would have a lot more apologising to do to her than the other way around

The book even caused me to reconsider the degree of my disgust with their most notorious practice: funeral picketing. Not having followed the pickets at the time super closely, i had interpreted them reflexively as incursions (perhaps constitutionally protected, but still unwarranted) on private family grief, turning what would be a personal act of mourning into a spectacle of vitriol and political grandstanding both ways. So i was surprised to hear the familys official statement on the matter:

So long as the families, military, media, veterans groups, and community-at-large, use funerals or memorial services of dead soldiers as platforms for political patriotic pep rallies, we will continue to picket those pep rallies. If they put the flags down and go home, we’ll go home. Not before then.

This seems basically entirely levelheaded, aside from my disagreement with the object level views they were voicing at these events. Privacy is a two-way street: if you are going to turn yr sons funeral into a patriotic circus, you cant fairly complain about ppl returning fire with a concurrent anti-patriotic circus. No heat, no kitchen. I suspect the actual operative principle in many ppls minds is that it doesnt alter the sacrosanct private character of the funeral to engage in socially normative politicising, but socially abnormal politicising crosses the line. Which is just clearly a grotesque and inherently conservative (derogatory) unprincipled distinction to draw

Speaking of which: its sort of tricky to place the church as conservative/rightwing or liberal/leftwing at all. Even setting aside fred phelps earlier and very laudable struggle against institutional racism. In some sense they were part of the rightwing backlash to gains in gay rights, but not in a way that dovetailed with any serious rightwing political projects on that front. They were the paradigmatic doomers: there was no point engaging in legal efforts to stem the marriage tide, say, bc the american experiment as a whole had incurred gods wrath and was living on borrowed time. To the extent they did have any significant legal impact, it was overwhelmingly positive: they were the ones that brought us snyder v phelps, a heroic win for freedom of speech. They remind me as much as anything of a certain kind of maoist sect, like revcom, not just in style but in content (fervent anti-americanism, racial equality, confidence that The End Is Nigh and the only serious question is how to respond to this imminent demise of the existing order, free speech fundsmentalism clearly for instrumental reasons joined with strict internal censorship, even a version of "no investigation, no right to speak!" inculcated from early childhood)

I think one of my first ever posts on my old blog was on this topic with a nascent, less informed version of the views im expressing here. Some forms of freezepeach contrarianism are just part of my unchanging core ig

[nicksbestie]

hi as of like yesterday yr requests are still open so i hope this isn’t a bother ! but anyway i was hoping to see some caregiver!reader + agere!johnnie ? preferably gnc reader but fem would also be okay ( whatever prior relationship you want :] ) don’t have many ideas for plot aside from maybe johnnie has had a bad day/is really stressed out so he kinda starts isolating himself, which reader respects but is also really worried about him :( so after a while reader uses maybe like a spare key to go into johnnie’s room and at first it just seems like he’s just upset but as reader starts trying to get johnnie to open up and trying to comfort him, he regresses which makes him more upset/panicky. whether reader has prior knowledge of regression is up to you but in general they’re just really sweet and supportive trying to calm johnnie down <3 maybe they eat dinner/reader feeds johnnie, and watch a movie/cartoon while cuddling ? ( little spoon johnnie ofc ) anyways feel free to add or take away anything i just want johnnie to be taken care of and as an agere i am totally projecting lol

Secrets - Johnnie Guilbert

Summary : Johnnie's biggest secret is exposed without him being ready, but it goes better than he thinks it will.

Pairing : Johnnie Guilbert/Reader (romantic)

Warnings : descriptions of mental health issues, depression, and isolation

Word Count : 1541

A/N : This is an age regression fic, which is purely safe for work and innocent. Any hate/disrespect towards me, my work, or readers, will not be tolerated.

Everyone has secrets. Some of them are terrible ones, skeletons in your closet, ones that would ruin many people’s lives should they escape out into the public. Others are small and simple, things they just like to keep to themselves, and wouldn’t hurt anyone if other people knew, they just don’t want them to be everyone’s business. Some people keep secrets to protect themselves because they would be embarrassed about it if anyone found out. Everyone keeps secrets, and sometimes they’re revealed at the wrong time. Johnnie had secrets, and he was in no way prepared for his biggest one to be exposed to anyone, especially not you, but sometimes life goes in ways that we just can’t predict. 

Johnnie had been struggling a lot lately. That wasn’t a secret, and although you knew about it, you didn’t pressure him very much. He wasn’t the type to open up when he was overly pushed about whatever was wrong, and you wanted him to feel safe and comfortable coming to you when he was ready, and not before that. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t concerned, because you most definitely were. This bad spell for him was bordering on being one of his worst ones ever, and you were about to step in, because you couldn’t stand to see him hurting on his own any longer, even if that was what he told you he wanted. 

Johnnie had begun to isolate himself for almost every hour of the day, only exiting his room to eat and use the bathroom. He didn’t talk much to you out loud, texting instead, as it took much less energy out of him to take that route. He didn’t like to talk about it, despite knowing that he most definitely needed to. You hated how he could be so self destructive, but you knew that you did the exact same thing when you felt the way that he did. So, you respected his space and always let him have it when he asked for it. However, it normally didn’t last this long, thus feeling the massive worry that encased your mind. 

After a couple more hours, you continued to let your worry grow, but you decided to do something about it. You hated the fact that you were about to ignore the boundaries that Johnnie had put into place, but you were seriously concerned, and you hoped that he would be able to understand and forgive you should he be upset with your decision. You grabbed the spare key that unlocked all the doors in the house, kept in the kitchen just in case of emergencies, and gently knocked on his bedroom door. You weren’t going to just barge in, you wanted to give him the chance to open it himself. When he didn’t reply, you softly called out to him, telling him that you were going to open the door. He didn’t argue, so you did just that. 

Walking into his room, you noticed that the blinds were closed, the lights were off, and he was quietly laying in his bed, staring at the wall. You immediately laid down next to him, letting him curl up next to you. You noticed the stained tear tracks on his cheeks, your heart breaking for him as he simply laid there. You let the both of you cuddle in silence, not wanting this to be a heartbreaking moment for the both of you, so you didn’t break the silence for a while. You knew that you should probably talk about what was going on, but the moment was so peaceful that you didn’t want to say anything. You both laid there quietly for about half an hour, taking in the comfort of the other’s presence, before you said anything. 

“We should talk about this, baby. It’s getting worse this time.” 

You could feel him shake his head against your chest. 

“No. I don’t want to talk.” 

“Honey, it’s important-” 

“No!”

Woah. He very rarely snapped at you. He had almost never snapped at you, especially not when he was feeling like this. But, in all fairness, you had pushed him a little bit. You could feel the tears from his eyes soaking your shirt, and you decided to not speak any more for a little bit. You gently pulled his face up, wiping his tears away with the soft pads of your thumbs, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, brushing his hair out a bit with your fingers. You noticed that his eyes were widened more, much more glassy, and you definitely were concerned about it, but you brushed it off to the tears causing it. 

You were more surprised when he pulled away from you, as he had never done that. You gently reached out to try and cuddle him again, but you noticed that he wouldn’t even look at you. He seemed to be panicking about something, and you couldn’t figure out what it was. You weren’t upset with him, but from the anxiety radiating off of his body, you could tell that he probably felt like you were. So, you immediately spoke up to try and help him recognize the fact that he was always safe and loved with you. 

“Love, what’s wrong? It’s all going to be okay.” 

You were now completely confused, as the second that you spoke, your boyfriend burst into tears. He seemed to be absolutely inconsolable, crying nearly at the top of his lungs and clutching the squishmallow on his bed tightly between his arms. You didn’t know what else to do besides just hug him, whispering comforting words as you told him that everything was going to work out, and that you were here for him. It wasn’t until he looked up at you with the same glassy-eyed look as earlier and spoke a few words when you realized what was going on. 

When a choked out “I sorry” left his lips, you put together the look in his eyes, and unexpected crying, and the clutched stuffie, and immediately realized what was happening. Your boyfriend had slipped right into his littlespace, a littlespace that you were completely unaware of, and was absolutely distraught. You had been a caregiver in a previous relationship, and you quickly controlled your shocked face, bringing him as close to you as possible and gently stroking through his hair. 

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. You’re safe, angel, nothing to be sorry for. I’ve got you, you’re going to be alright.” 

It took a lot of repetitive words and soft praises for Johnnie to relax, his crying eventually slowing when he realized that you weren’t upset with him, and that you were still there and still loving him despite his newfound headspace. He wrapped himself back around you, seeming to become a very quiet little. You were more than excited to get to know him in his headspace, so excited to get to love and spoil a little one, as it had been a long time. Less than an hour later, the two of you were still curled up next to each other, you simply hugging your little boy and whispering sweet nothings to him as he relaxed. You both enjoyed the quality time, and as it turns out, Johnnie is a very silent little, despite when he’s not upset. It wasn’t for another half an hour or so that you moved, and you probably wouldn’t have moved at all had it not been for Johnnie’s stomach growling. 

You held his hand as you walked to the kitchen, calling him the most adorable as he rubbed his eyes with a fist. You put some chicken nuggets in the oven for him, before you went to the bathroom and you helped him remove the makeup that he’d put on that morning. He hadn’t gone anywhere, but he put it on to cover the dark circles under his eyes. You were gentle but bubbly, and you noticed that your little loved to laugh, and giggled at every funny face you made at him. Dinner went quite smoothly, him eating all of it, which absolutely warmed your heart, as he hadn’t been eating much lately due to his depressive slump. 

Little Johnnie seemed to love food, and you were grateful for that, because you didn’t want dinner time to cause him to be upset again. After he had finished eating, you got him a popsicle from the freezer, wrapped it in a paper towel so his hands didn’t get cold, and tucked him in on the couch while you cleaned up the plate and put it into the dishwasher. He was wrapped up in a blanket, cuddled with his stuffie, and you sat down next to him as soon as you were done. You gently tapped through channels and shows as you waited for your little one to pick a cartoon he’d like to watch, finally settling on “Spongebob”, and he immediately wrapped himself back up in your arms. 

He’d been in a dark episode for a while, but now, it seemed like he was able to see the light at the end of it, and you couldn’t wait to be here to help him through it all.

~ taglist : @jake-and-johnnies-slut @elliem505 @gvf23 @ilydeaky @maryx2xx @oobleoob @aemrsy @jasperthefriendlyghostt @707xn

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[oogaboogasphincter]

a bowlful of joel-y

summary: he was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot / and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; / a bundle of toys he had flung on his back, / and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack / his eyes — how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry! / his cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! / he had a broad face and a little round belly / that shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly || you never would have guessed who you find stumbling around jackson dressed up as santa claus on christmas eve night, leaving presents for all the kids in town. you take on the role of santa's elf and help him deliver his toys - and land yourself on his nice list just in time for christmas morning.

word count/warnings: 4.8k+ words EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY) MDNI! // reader has insomnia, a pinch of grumpy joel but he’s mostly jolly (at least by his standards), one mention of alcohol/drunkenness, christmas/holiday fluff, a conversation about loss and grief around the holidays (joel talks about sarah), description of panic attacks + healing❤️‍🩹, food and eating (milk+cookies ofc), unprotected piv sex (do as i say not as i write), jackson era!joel, friends to lovers teehee

a/n: merry christmas @lisadean! i'm so so sorry this is three days late, i got a head cold just as i was putting my finishing touches on this and i didn't want to post it without a final read-through :( i hope you enjoy your secret santa gift as much as i did writing it! 🤭🎁 i want to thank all my besties at @pedrostories for organizing this event, it's what introduced me to the blog and i'm so excited and honored to be participating in it both as a writer and moderator this year 💗 i wish all my readers a very happy holidays!! (pls let me know who made the beautiful gif above, i found it on pinterest w no credit ☹️)

It’s Christmas Eve and you can’t sleep.

No matter how hard you try, your shuttered eyes can’t keep.

You toss and turn with increasing agitation,

Thoughts of going downstairs gnawing with temptation.

It’d just be a little peek, you reason,

Of the freshly fallen snow of the season. 

With a huff of exertion and a swaddle of flannel,

You get up and trot down the stairs, passing the candles burning on the mantle.

The decorated tree twinkles with light to emit holiday cheer all through the night.

You push aside the heavy drapes of your window and you see red;

Specifically, a fur-trimmed three piece set.

Astonished by what to your wandering eyes did appear, you lean in and begin to peer. 

You must be being deceived by your eyes, you think to yourself. The apocalypse has brought to life many horrific figments that you wished were bound by imagination, but the magic of Christmas is something that seems too good to be true after such atrocity has ravaged the Earth. Maybe your vision is bleary from your biting insomnia caused by the latter, or you’ve endured enough that your mind is gifting you a glimpse back into some innocent happiness that you feared you lost long ago. To your surprise, the broad man outside doesn’t vanish with the blink of your eye; instead he trudges along in the snow with a harsh sense of reality, his back bent at a painful angle and his feet falling heavily with every step, bearing the brunt of his costumed weight plus the filled sack that is slung over his shoulder. 

Whoever this is - whether it’s a do-gooder or some bloke that had a few too many spiked eggnogs at the Tipsy Bison - it looks like they would appreciate some help. You slip your boots on and head out, wrapping your arms around yourself to cinch your flannel pajamas closer to your frame to shield yourself from the icy midnight flurries. Santa’s back is to you and he doesn’t seem to acknowledge your approaching footsteps. His grunts of exertion are carried on the wind that swirls around you in ribbons: his pack looks even heavier up close than it did from your living room window. You make an effort to announce yourself by grinding your heels into the snow, making each step crunchier than the last. 

For a fleeting moment, you relish the childlike wonder that overtakes you, that this could be the real Santa. His heart must be pounding in his ears because when you tap his velveteen shoulder softly, he jumps in shock. It’s immediately apparent that the erratic movement hurt his back further, as a large hand comes to support the small of his spine and he groans when he straightens his neck. The sack drops from his grasp into the snow below. You’re already apologizing as he turns haggardly on his heel, towards you, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Do you-”

Santa finally rounds on you and your breath catches in your throat. Framed by a faux white beard and the furry trim of his hat are big, gorgeous brown eyes that throw icicles at you with an annoyed stare. His thorough costume fails to work on you - you could recognize those beautiful, baby cow-esque eyes in an instant. A joyous cloud of condensation wafts into Santa’s face as you burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, doubling over with tears in your eyes. 

He steps forward and covers your mouth with a black leather gloved hand, “Don’t you know anythin’ about stealth?” 

The saturation of Joel’s Texan accent increases whenever he’s irritated, tired or relaxed, you’ve noticed, or whenever his controlling grip on stoicism slips just slightly and he’s allowed to return to a more organic version of himself. To his grumbling annoyance, you’ve told him how cute you find it - especially when it’s followed by a blush of tamped-down flattery that crumbles his carefully constructed grimace. 

He lets go of you when you’re able to stifle your giggles to a soft chuckling. You eye his outfit up and down, raising your eyebrow in approval. He tries his best not to mirror your bemused smirk. “ What are you doing, Joel Miller?” you ask incredulously. 

“What’s it look like I’m doin’?” he grouches rhetorically. You patiently await his answer anyway with a grin that spreads to your eyes with every second that ticks by. He eventually secedes with a sigh, his broad shoulders deflating with exhaustion from more than just your affectionate pestering, “‘M… deliverin’ toys to the kids. Getting a present from Santa is a formative experience. No kid should have their magic robbed of ‘em.” 

“Isn’t Santa just one big lie though?” you ask, genuinely. You remember the truth that your friends tried to peddle you while you were still a believer, asking you all kinds of questions as a test to your logic. How is he able to get all across the world in one night? If he’s so big, how is he able to fit down the chimney? Does Santa have to take bathroom breaks, and where?! Most of all, you remember the horror that washed over you when you confronted your parents with your newly-acquired facts, and to your fear, they confirmed the lie. It took you a while to have faith in anything they said after, to the point of absurdity - it took months for you to believe that taking medicine will actually make you feel better when you’re sick. 

Joel stiffens. Some inexplicable reason makes you think that it’s not just because of his aching back and tired knees. His voice is tight, uncomfortable, “Yeah, I guess…” 

He gradually warms back up, his words spliced with tired breaths, by explaining to you that, “Tommy told me that in years past, the adults would leave presents on Christmas morning, under that big tree they decorate in the town square,” he points behind him to the afar twinkling lights with his thumb, “just before the kids woke up. But since we found that fir tree lot about twenty miles out, everybody was able to get their own tree this year. I asked around if they think it’d be a good idea for someone… f’ me… to be Santa. So that all the kids could have the experience we had. Y’know… leave cookies out an’ all that.” He waves his hand noncommittally and looks off to the side like he thinks the whole idea is ludicrous, as if he doesn’t care. As if he isn’t the sweet, kindhearted man who introduced the very idea. 

You fight hard to disguise the enamor that strikes your heart and threatens to leak into your gaze. So you turn to a reliable defense mechanism: teasing. “So… the costume is purely for your own enjoyment then?” 

That pulls a breathy chuckle out of Joel’s chest. “I can’t have the kiddos wake up and see some old man in their house. You gotta keep up the illusion, girl.” He nudges you on the shoulder with his knuckles. When he leans in you can smell his breath, warm and sweet with faint notes of spice and cinnamon. His unprecedented playfulness always throws you for a loop and makes you squirm on your feet, a flustered smile warbling on your lips. 

It strikes you in inappropriate moments like these that you have the privilege of being chummy with one of the most sought after men in Jackson. A man whose charms you’re not immune to, but you guess you’re better at hiding their effect than others are, as Joel tended to avoid those who openly expressed intimate interest. A man who you so desperately desire, but force yourself to hide your attraction for. 

Joel sighs, bending to pick the sack handle up from the ground, “I’m bound to wake them up if I keep fuckin’ lumberin’ around like I am.” You can see how the heavy bag of toys weighs on his back and worsens his heavy-footedness. You can practically hear the alerting scuff of his boots against creaky floorboards, rousing sleeping kids and luring them to spoil their own surprise. “I damn near woke the first one up, ‘cause this fuckin’ sack got stuck between me and the door, an’-” 

He cuts himself off, gaping with offended bewilderment watching you try to smother your laughter. The image of him wrestling with the bag, let alone in a full Santa costume, is simply hilarious. A deviousness glints the smile that tugs on half of his face, “Oh, so you think my struggling is funny?”

“No, it’s just…” you search for a more suitable word but guilt shines through your twisted smile and speaks for itself. He lets the silence fill the space between you two for an uncomfortable stretch, running out your fuse until you can’t hold back your giggling. 

He puts his hand on his hip, fixing his gaze on you with lighthearted scorn, “You gon’ stand there and laugh at Santa ,” he jeers, scolding you for making fun of an innocent, jolly old man, “or are you gonna make yourself useful?” 

For a moment you completely forget why you had come out here in the first place. Joel was legitimately having a difficult time and you had wanted to aid him in any way you could. However, his badgering demeanor has put an equally brattish spin on your helping hand from its chivalrous beginning. You defiantly square your shoulders.

“Actually, I will. I can be like an elf to your Santa. The elves do all of the hard work, anyways. Making the toys, wrapping them, packing the sleigh and caring for the reindeer. And Santa… eats cookies?” 

Joel scoffs, pretending to not like the idea of some help, “Oh, yeah? You and what costume?” He jerks his chin at you, looks you up and down for your lack of costume. It’s hard not to pay any attention to the heat that rushes your cheeks thinking about him looking at you like that under different circumstances. He’s right though: you’ll need a costume to maintain the magical facade. 

A Christmas miracle bestows itself to you in the front yard you’re standing next to: a snowman outfitted as an elf. 

You go over and delicately pluck the pointed hat off of the top snowball so as not to disturb the icy artistry. You pull it down on your head, wiggle, and the movement gives the bell at the end of the point a jingle. “Ready when you are, Mr. Claus.” 

Like on patrols and other tasks you’ve been paired with him on before, you and Joel make a fantastic team delivering holiday cheer in the night. 

You’ll come to a house, quietly padding up the snowy front steps; Joel will sift through his bag for the correct present for the specific child; and hand it off to you to put under the tree inside. The parents in on the trick have left their doors unlocked and their kids have assembled platters of cookies, varying flavors from house to house, with a note of gratitude for their beloved Santa tucked underneath. You can only hope that the kids’ excited jitters for the following morning have worn their energy levels down enough that they’re soundly slumbering so you can pass through undetected. The bell on your hat is a hazardous giveaway to your presence, so you opt to leave it outside with Joel to ensure your drop-off is silent. There’s no chance any wandering eyes will catch you out of disguise, though, because, as quiet and quick as a mouse, you’re in with a gift and out with empty hands in a flash, ready for the next one. 

A couple hours in and you’ve deposited gifts to three quarters of the kids in town. You’ll definitely finish before the Christmas morning sun even thinks about peering over the horizon. Despite the share of labor you’ve accounted for, Joel continues to have a difficult time trudging through the snow, so you both slow down to a pleasant, unhurried stroll to fulfill the remainder of your recipients. 

“You okay?” you ask tenderly, smiling softly at him when he cranes his neck to meet your eyes. He nods, his voice tired and breathy, “Yeah, just… old .” He spits that last word out, with bitterness coating his tongue. The imperceptible shake of his head is impatient, agitated, that his body isn’t up to par with what it used to be capable of. 

Jackson has softened him, there’s no denying that, but you don’t think it’s such a bad thing. You only arrived at the settlement a year ago, a year into Joel’s stay. He had immediately shown you friendliness, a desire to help you settle in, to care for you. It struck you as odd when you heard the stories from other townspeople of what he was like when he was first welcomed in; that he was the cold, standoffish brother of their warm leader, Tommy, that his permanent scowl radiated a sourness, bordering on ungrateful. The par-baked sociability that you were introduced to was apparently underdone; his face flickered with uncomfortability when any affection was pushed on him, whether it was a simple compliment or a brotherly nudge to his shoulder. Joel couldn’t hide himself from you, though. His desire to surrender was so strong, so yearnful, but he constantly restrained himself from the comfort, the love, with an understandable fear that it could all be taken away. 

Accidentally, you forced him to face his fears. He enjoyed your company and soon sought out more and more opportunities to spend time with you until you were inseparable. You began to frighten him when he realized what you were to him, a friend , but it was too late; he couldn’t stay away from you, no matter how loud the loathsome voice in his head screamed for the safety that isolation guaranteed. His biggest source of anxiety now isn’t something reasonable, like clickers: it’s how far into the future he wants to go with you. 

Back in the present moment, you shrug, “Well, I think you’re doing a good thing, Joel. Old or not.” The tip of his nose and cheeks are beet red from the frosty air and itchy costume, but his blush deepens to a magenta upon hearing your words. He diverts his eyes. It’s sweet, in a way, how he has trouble accepting praise even from one of his best friends. You dump more validation onto him, because he deserves it, “The community will really love you for this, you know. I know how much you like your solitude, but it’s nice to see you involved. It suits you.” 

“I guess literally,” he gestures to his suit of red and white and you laugh together. Despite the tarnishes of age and stains of neglectful wear, the costume does fit him nicely. Just like the infamous poem, it complements his eyes that twinkle under the starlight and his merry dimple that deepens when he laughs. He even has the little round belly to complete the look, though you’re sure he has as much disdain for his softened shape as you have love for it. 

The night hours wane in proportion with the fun you’re having. Joel’s silent for a while, and though quietness is never awkward between you two, you can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking about. 

You only have a few presents left to deliver when Joel says, “Sarah loved Christmas.” 

You slow down next to him to direct your undivided attention on him in this tender moment, but he waves his hand at you to keep moving along. Always some degree of averse to comfort, you work with him however he’ll let you. He faces ahead into the snow coming down, but that’s not what he’s looking at; his gaze is slightly unfocused, like he goes into a dimension that only he can see. You’ve seen that expression on him before and know that snapshots of memories are drifting by in his mind. 

His voice is happy to match his smile, only wavering with emotion slightly as he shares with you, “She’d always be eager to start putting the decorations up right after Thanksgiving, always so giddy to go to school and do all the festive little projects they had ‘em doin’. She’d get so into it, she’d come home with glitter all in her hair,” he laughs softly and so do you. “The fridge would be completely covered with her paintings and crafts by the time Christmas came around…” 

He stops in his tracks to take a sharp breath in, looking up to the stars with damp eyes. A touch to the permanent fixture on his wrist - his watch - grounds him and restores his smile, despite the painful tinge it now has. You simply observe him for a moment, give him the patience he needs. Then he continues a bit somberly, “I always got a real tree, I didn’t like none of that fake stuff. I would’ve gone and cut one down myself if they grew better than they did in Texas.” 

A detachedness casts over his eyes. He breathes hauntedly, “Maybe a lot of things would be different if I hadn’t lived there.” 

He sniffles and shakes his head to try and dispel his thoughts, getting irritated that they infiltrated him in the first place. You take a gingerly step forward and lay your fingers over his with impossible tenderness, stroking his quivering knuckles. 

“Sounds like she would’ve loved being your little helper tonight.” A stroke of happiness glimmers across his face, colors him back from his ghostly hue. 

“Yep, she would’ve been all over that.” 

With all of the delicacy you can muster to cushion your shameless, vital honesty, “I bet she would be proud of what you’re doing… of you .” 

You reach into his bag and take out the last remaining present, placing it into his hands so he can be the one to close out the magical evening and deliver the final gift. Joel nods with residual tears in his eyes, “I can only hope.”

“I know,” you reassure him. 

The corners of his mouth, downturned in shame and grief, begin to perk up ever so slightly. It sends you over the moon. A staggering leap of growth for Joel are imperceptible steps to others, but you’re always by his side to assure him that there’s nothing wrong with his pace. 

You’re the one to wait outside this time while he sneaks in. While he’s disappeared for a few moments, you think about how he used to react when Sarah was brought up - or more likely, when his thoughts brought her to him unprovoked. He’d have brutal panic attacks, where his heart would pound violently in between seizures of oxygen, courtesy of his crippling lungs. He’d be rendered debilitated for days afterward, trying to collect his shattered remains and haphazardly piece himself back together. 

But now, as he slowly closes the door behind him and turns to join you, his commendable progress frays your heartstrings. Though his eyes are still hurt and his heart still gives him problems, he’s able to talk about his daughter with unbridled joy . Her memory is no longer an abyss of torturous guilt; it has blossomed to remind him of all the happy days she did have, of what a beautiful soul she was and can continue to be in his heart. He’s realizing that instead of solely mourning her wrongful death, he can carry on her life by spreading the joy she instilled in him all those years ago. You view it as one of the highest honors to hear about her and to be friends with the wonderful man who raised her to be the kind girl she was. Seeing Joel’s misery lessened by any number makes you so happy you could cry. 

Joel comes up to you and concern crosses his face, “What’s wrong?”, upon seeing the gleam to your eyes, putting a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“Nothin’,” you say with a shrug and a proud smile, subconsciously parroting his accent.

“Congratulations on another successful year, Santa,” you hold up your hand for a silly high five. Joel obliges with a resounding chuckle. He intertwines his fingers with yours, holding your hand long after the celebration. “Couldn’t have done it without your help,” he mumbles sheepishly, “Thank you.”

Since you were the one picking up Santa’s slack for the most part tonight, you were also the one to take bites of cookies and sips of milk to leave as evidence of your visit. It only dawns on you now that Joel hasn’t had any treats the whole night. What a holiday abomination! 

“I think Santa is entitled to his fair share of payment,” you playfully nudge at Joel’s belly and he swats your hand away with a grunt. “I made some cookies of my own, and I have some milk to pair if I’m remembering your tastes correctly.” He shakes his head, rolls his eyes. “Wanna come back to mine for some?” 

Joel squeezes your hand in his, “Sure.” 

The morning sun still has a few hours left to sleep by the time you and Joel cross your threshold. The house you were gifted in the center of town is small, but it’s a haven nonetheless. When you first moved in, Joel was assigned to check all the inner workings and help furnish, but most importantly he helped you return to yourself: what colors you liked and didn’t like, which way you preferred your living room to be arranged, where you wanted your mugs stored. It was incidental, trivial things, but their impact was seriously underestimated. He helped make the little blank-slate house yours. 

He enjoys being in it as much as you do because he’s constantly surrounded by you and the evidence of your habits and patterns. The rings of coffee staining your side table, next to the bookmarked novel on the arm of your couch. The shoes dropped unceremoniously by your front door. The dish towel powdered with the flour of cookies you made earlier, their mouthwatering scent lingering in the air with the dry, residual warmth from your oven. He doesn’t know if he wants to consume you or be consumed by you, but either way he knows one thing: he’s bewitched.

In the kitchen, he leans against the counter as you pour him a glass of milk and plate some cookies. The long night’s energy expenditure has worked up quite an appetite in him, so he doesn’t waste any more time and takes a bite. 

“You have to dip it in the milk and let it get soft! They’re best that way,” you offer, but he just waves you off with affectionate annoyance. 

From his sloppy eating, a piece of chocolate has smeared itself on his upper lip and into the hairs of his mustache. It makes you smile. Without thinking, you lick the pad of your thumb and bring it to his face to clean it off. 

Joel’s lips part, as if with practiced ease, so you can really get in there. It’s so��natural , so domestic between the two of you; it’s startling. His eyes are on you and you can feel them, watching you with brazen intensity as you prod the plushness of his lip, but you keep your own gaze focused on your work. 

You flicker a fatal glance into his. Joel wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a kiss that’s a strange mix of gentle and intoxicating. Just as it registers in your brain what is happening, he’s breaking away and it makes you want to cry.  

“I’m sorry, I should’ve asked first, goddamn fool …” he grumbles to himself. He goes to remove himself from you further, but you pull him right back by the chest of his t-shirt that’s damp with sweat. 

“You should’ve.” You press your lips to his with ravenous fervor. 

You pull him to the living room, to the chair that he picked out for the space when you first moved in. The soft suede reminded him of you, he had said, and you didn’t realize what his true meaning was until now. His fingertips skim over your exposed skin, addicted, yet tentative in their touch of such preciousness. 

You swiftly rid him of the rest of his costume down to his underclothes and he soon follows to undress you until you’re left in your base layers. You’re practically shaking with need, wishing you could take your time with him but you’ve been pining after him all night (really, ever since the moment you laid eyes on him over a year ago.) That goofy costume couldn’t hide his delicious figure and he makes you delirious now that he’s exposed; his broad, inviting chest; his sexy, burly arms; his cute little ass. 

He shares your desire’s impatience. He falls onto the chair, pressing against the back. You climb into his lap, straddling his thighs, and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him into you for another desperate kiss.

One of his hands balances you on your hip and the other fumbles with his belt buckle frustratingly. He groans impatiently into your mouth, but your aid is being dispersed elsewhere; your fingers are tethered to his hair, brushing it and grabbing it and pulling it. 

Finally he solves the metallic riddle and you both sigh in relief when his stiff length is released, slapping against your thigh. You reach down and stroke him from base to tip a couple times, making his eyebrows scrunch in pleasure. This is going to be quick, you both know it, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be enjoyable. 

You’re just as near to bursting as Joel when you sink down onto him, inch by glorious inch. He digs his heels into the floor in preparation to fuck up into you, but you beat him to it and begin to ride. He groans loudly, his arms constricting around your waist and burying his face into your neck. He’s holding you so tight that you can barely move; it makes your thighs burn deliciously with the amount of effort you have to put in to keep up your pace. You work up a sweat to rival his as a fresh sheen breaks out on his brow. 

Combined with the heated passion, there’s an enamored twinkle in his eyes, an adoration. One that screams that four-letter L word, the one that his brain wants to profess to you from rooftops but that his heart can’t work up the strength to say it and make it real. 

The holidays are run on magic, anyways - you’re content to give him all the time he needs. 

“Please, Joel,” you whisper breathlessly into his ear, wanting his body if you can’t have his heart just yet. That does him in; his hips stutter beneath you and his warmth fills you up, radiating up from your core until it tickles the underside of your pounding heart. Your own release is brought on by his sly fingers against your clit and it seizes your movements, rippling in tantalizing waves from head to toe, until you’re reduced to a puddle in his arms and slump against his chest. 

Hazy with exhaustion and a potent shot of dopamine, you barely register him tucking a blanket around you before you succumb to some much-needed sleep. 

The Christmas morning sun breaks over the horizon a few hours later. Amidst your throes of passion in the darkness of night, you hadn’t realized your front window’s curtains were strewn wide open. You and Joel both startle awake when a particularly harsh sunbeam glints off of a frosty white snow bank, shooting directly into your unprepared pupils. 

You bury your face into his chest, groaning with embarrassment, “I really hope nobody starts singing that they saw an elf kissing Santa Claus.”

Your newly minted lover chuckles, wrapping his arms around you and holding you ever closer, “Eh, all the kids were asleep. And if any adults saw…,” he shrugs, “Fuck ‘em.”

Now, your blanketed bodies remain safely hidden from the happy kids running about and cheering in the streets with their new toys. Joel watches on with you, smiling despite the sleep deprivation that prohibits you from even thinking about moving an inch. And with Joel beneath you, surrounding you, why would you? 

“You know, I’ve been thinking for a while now…” he continues, running a finger delicately down your cheek, “I’ve been wanting to promote my head elf, but she’s already at the top of my list.”

You poke him in the chest playfully, “Hey, I’m a seasonal worker. Last night was a one-time deal. Well, what happened before we got home was a one-time deal,” you specify. 

Your clarification brightens his smile. “How d’ya think… Mrs. Claus sounds?”

Your heart leaps. “Sounds like just what I’ve been wishing for.”

You settle in to watch the rest of the morning unfold, with the joyous kids playing, their contented parents observing, and the snow swirling in the air in dreamy trails.

“Merry Christmas, Joel.”

He presses a tender kiss to your forehead. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

summary excerpt from “‘a visit from st. nicholas” by clement clarke moore

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