#at least ASK them if they're alright with you joking about them like that

[bellysoupset]

Indigested

"Where the hell do you think you're going dressed like this?" Lucas asked in a sharp, false, tone and caused Bella's dark auburn brows to meet in an upset frown.

"Wherever the hell I want?" She bit back just as sharply, only to blush as she saw his amused smile, "oh, you're joking."

"Yeah, I'm joking," Luke snorted, reaching so he could grab her studded waist and pulling her close so he could kiss her, "you look amazing."

"Thanks," Bella beamed at the compliment, smoothing her hands over his chest, "you don't look too bad yourself," she gave him one more kiss, before cupping his face so she could wipe the dark red stain from his mouth, "they're almost here, Teddy texted ten minutes ago."

"Alright, remind me of their names?"

"Teddy, he's chubby and looks like a teddy bear, you're really not gonna miss it," Bella explained, checking all the trays of food for their dinner party. After the disaster that had been the Superbowl, she was extremely worried about food poisoning for a second time. Once again they had ordered the food, but now from a different place and Luke had taste tested everything in a valiant show of courage, hours before, "Melissa is the one with the pink braids and Vader has the piercings."

"They sound like band kids," Luke chuckled, wrapping his arms around her from behind, "I'm gonna dial up the charm."

"Dial it down, Atwood," Bella scoffed, leaning against his embrace, "you're already too damn charming for your own good, lower that shit down."

"Can't do," he pressed a kiss to her cheek, just as the doorbell rang.

Luke had been spot on the money about the band kids description, all of Bella's coworkers, whom he knew by name but had never met until now, looked like band kids. They were all alt, which didn't surprise him, considering Bell was clad in her most vampiric outfit and fitting right in with the gang. He was the one who stood out like a sore thumb.

"Oh lalala Bell, this place is gorgeous," Teddy said, holding a black bag with a wine bottle inside of it. Truly, couldn't people think of housewarming gifts that weren't wine? They had a full collection by now and neither of them drank it.

"It is my pride and joy," Bella had a bright smile on as she gestured for her friends to come in, not even trying to be humble, "and this is Luke," she latched on his arm, "Lucas, Teddy, Mel and Vader."

He shook all of their hands, all smiles and letting the pokes of fun wash over him. Teddy calling him the "famous Lou" and Vader squinting at him in a suspicious manner. Introverts, Luke thought with a snort, wrapping an arm around Bell's waist and guiding their guests into the dining room.

---------------

Luke was an extrovert. He fed on people's energy, a night out with friends was how he relaxed, not staying home and staring at a TV. Even if he was bookworm, he didn't enjoy sitting alone in a room to read, but would rather go busy places like a park or a coffee shop, or the best option, have Bella draped on him, so at least he felt like it was a shared activity.

Nevertheless, even he couldn't deny that the best part of a dinner party was the debrief that followed. Rehashing the night's moments and sharing gossip over tea with Bella had to be one of his favorite things in life.

So Bella was entirely justified as she threw her arms around his shoulders, from behind, and pressed a kiss to his cheek, pouting at how quiet he had turned, "you didn't have fun?"

"Hmm," Luke shook his head, wrinkling his nose, "I did, it was great. Your colleagues are funny..."

His wife let out a huff, her breath smelling like chocolate cake, nose pressed to his temple, "you're acting weird... You got super quiet there at the end, Luke."

He leaned his head back, so it met Bella's shoulder and winced, "it wasn't the company," Luke explained, smiling as she turned to look at him, so close their noses nearly brushed, "dinner's not agreeing with me."

"Oh," Bell's eyes widened and he leaned in, stealing a kiss and causing her to splutter and giggle, "LuKE!" she rolled her eyes in a fond manner, then pulled back enough to give him an once over, "dinner's kicking your ass?"

"Oh yeah," he squirmed on the dining room chair, he had only gotten up long enough to see his guests out. The dishes were still on the table, a whole mess to be dealt with, "big time."

"Aye, poor baby," Bell teased him, softly, stroking his hair back, "let's get you out of these clothes, it can't be comfortable."

It wasn't, not at all, and Luke was more than happy to let Bell undress him as he pulled him to his feet and up the stairs. His legs felt heavy, whole body focused on the throbbing in his midsection. He hadn't eaten more than his normal share, but he felt stuffed and lethargic, as if his stomach was pulsing.

Bella hadn't quite gotten the memo, pushing him on the bed and sitting on his lap. He couldn't blame her, it wouldn't be the first time he overdid it at dinner and decided he was still well enough to fool around.

"C'mere," she captured his lips with hers, kissing him slowly, fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt. Luke winced, the way her thighs circled his middle was far from comfortable, squeezing him.

He grabbed her by the chin, pushing her back, "no, Bell, its actually hurting..." Luke grimaced as a cramp went through his packed belly. It felt like nothing was digesting, a congealed mess inside of him.

"Awn," Bella cooed, falling off his lap so she was on the bed and finishing removing his shirt, "better?"

It was a smidge better now that he couldn't feel it brushing against his sensitive stomach, but that was about it. When he didn't answer, Bell got to work on his trousers, undoing his belt and the fly of the pants, patting his thigh with an amused huff, "up, up, let me get this off you-" she tugged on the pants, pulling them fully out and Luke let out a little relieved sigh.

His stomach mimicked him, letting out a gross gurgle and Bell raised her eyebrows, clutching the pants balled up in her hands in a surprised manner, "that was your stomach?"

"Uhm, yeah," Luke scooted on the bed, so he could fall against the pillows and let out a deep breath, staring at the ceiling and planting a hand on his stomach. It felt warm to the touch, warmer than the rest of his body, and it was clearly upset. More gurgles followed, but he still didn't feel like anything was digesting, "fuck, you don't think its food poisoning, right?"

Bell paused at the bathroom door, she had already kicked off her heels and was holding a cotton ball to her eye, waiting for the dark makeup to melt under the cleanser, "no, Luke..." she frowned, "all five of us had the same stuff and we're fine. Besides, you weren't sick on the evening when you did the taste test..."

That was a sound argument. Luke grimaced as he felt a growl deep inside, dinner churning sluggishly, "I guess... Maybe I just ate too fast or something."

"Maybe it's gas," Bella was looking quite comical, one eye fully clean, the other one covered in glam makeup, "do you want some ginger ale? Or-" she yawned, "or pepto?"

"Ginger ale might help..." Luke felt like was sweating now, the pressure in his stomach going up a notch of uncomfortableness, "and a belly rub?"

"Uh-hum," Bell smiled at him, moving back inside the bathroom so she could wash her face, "let me just change and I'll get it for you."

She stripped down the velvet crimson dress and Luke let his head fall back, planting a hand on his stomach and trying to knead some digestion into it. Although he was being gentle, his belly felt tender to the touch and all he managed was to cause cramps to ripple through him, but not a single burp came up nor did it feel like his stomach was doing anything.

"Here," Bell crawled back on the bed, holding up a ginger ale can as well as the pepto pink bottle, "pick your poison."

Luke took the can, taking several gulps and feeling the pressure building in his chest, until he couldn't swallow anymore. He let out a groan, leaning forward so a burp would come up, but instead a hiccup shook his entire frame.

"That was cute," Bella chuckled, falling against the pillows and rubbing his naked back, legs tangled with the blankets, "hold your breath to stop the hiccups-"

Luke tried to hold it, but he didn't manage even a second before another deep hiccup caused him to jostle, his stomach contents jumping and acid licking his throat. He clutched at it, "ugh- Hurts..."

He couldn't quite breathe right, the ginger ale had pressurized his belly, but no burp was coming up. Bella let out a sigh, moving so she was sitting behind him and patting his back, "you're really pale, Luke..."

A small burp came up, as well as more acidic froth which he promptly swallowed. He cupped a hand over his lips, "it's just reflux-"

She thumped his back with enough force another wet burp rolled past his lips, deep from his stomach and bringing up a sliver of relief. Luke swallowed down the saliva accumulating in his mouth, whole body getting covered in goosebumps and a shudder running through him as dinner tried to come back with the burp.

"Ugh," he swallowed down, "don't thump that hard, feels like it's trying to come back up..."

"Lean back," Bell kissed his cheek and he obeyed, slotting himself against her shoulder, between her legs. The ginger's cold hands cupped his stomach and he winced, the upset organ continuing to throb and cramp.

"Careful, Bell, it hurts..."

"I know, I know, baby," she cooed, moving her hand in lazy, gentle circles, "you didn't eat enough to be this stuffed, what the hell..."

"Yeah, uhm-" he muffled a little burp against his hand, "bloated as fuck..."

She thumped the heel of her hand against his side, causing a nasty belch to roll up and some of the pressure to reduce. Bella wrinkled her nose, "gross, Atwood, don't burp on my face..."

"What-" he smiled slightly, forcing up another little burp, with no heat behind it, still facing her, "I thought you loved all of me."

"You're such a prick," she planted her hand on his face, giggling and shoving it away, "this feels good...?" she rubbed under the swell of his stomach, right where it was pushing against his boxers, fingers pressing on his warm skin as if she was playing a piano.

"Uhm... Yeah, feels be-bEtuurop-" he turned his head quickly, letting out a large, frothy burp, "it's helping..."

"Alright," Bell yawned, focusing on the belly rub. She was really good at it, finding every single air pocket and slowly working her way around, gentle but firm. However while it helped with the awful pressure and the sensation he couldn't breathe, it really did nothing to how gross Luke was feeling.

Now his stomach was full on churning, letting out constant whines and growls, and his jaw felt heavy.

"Hold on, hold on," Lucas grabbed Bella's hand and she seemed to have completely zoned out, because she jerked at the touch, as if she was almost falling asleep, "stop."

"What- What is it?" Bell yawned, pulling back to look at him and then raising her eyebrows, "oh Luke, you're gonna be sick? You're all clammy..."

He shook his head, trying to swallow the spit accumulating in his mouth, but his throat refused it and he gagged.

"Yeah, okay," Bell scoffed, grabbing his arm, "up up up-" she ushered him out of the bed and Luke stumbled up, hugging his stomach. He felt a little dizzy with nausea and the following gag brought up a splash of semi digested food, which he forced back down.

"Almost there-" Bella was mumbling feverishly, pushing him inside their suite's bathroom. It was much bigger than in their old place, which was a good thing on most days, but meant more steps tonight and Luke whimpered, bracing against the sink.

"That's alright, I got you," Bell pushed his hangs back, opening the faucet and running her hand under it, rubbing her now humid and cold hands on his face to refreshen him, "shhh, take a deep breath-"

Luke jerked with another gag and planted a hand on the mirror in front of the sink, ducking his head as he spat a thick wave inside the bowl. His stomach churned at the gruesome sight and he wrapped the opposite arm around his belly, trying to keep his dinner down.

"Shhh, baby, that's alright," Bella was rubbing his naked back, nails brushing on his nape as she moved her hand up, "get it up, you'll feel better..."

It was like all his stomach needed was permission, because the next wave was much larger and caused him to curl up, whole body shaking with effort.

He lowered his head to the marble of the sink, blowing out a burp to the ground and breathing deeply as if he had just ran a marathon, while Bell washed off the mess from the bowl and kept a steadying hand on his elbow.

His stomach was still a mess. Everything was churning around and he felt nauseous as all hell, but no longer overfull like before. He shuddered again, leaning over the sink to spit and glaring at his reflection.

He looked awful. Hair slightly glued down to his forehead thanks to the cold sweat, no matter how much Bella had ran her fingers through it to keep it out of the way. Face ashen, lips almost vanishing from how pale they were. Bella was looking at him in a worried manner, big blue eyes the size of saucers, a hand still planted on his back.

"Lu?" she rubbed his arm, "are you done?"

Luke wrinkled his nose, frowning, "not sure..." his stomach let out a sickening growl and he spat in the bowl again, opening the faucet once more to wash his face and take a gulp of water. It helped with the horrible taste in his mouth, but landed in his belly all wrong, causing him to burp more frothy vomit back in the bowl.

"Alright," Bella was chewing on her lip, alarmed, "take your time..."

He coughed and washed his mouth once again, sniffling, "Urgh... I think- I think I'm done...?" it was supposed to be an affirmation, but didn't quite sound like it. Bell raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"You think?"

"Not sure," Luke grimaced, moving away from the sink so he could press his back against the cool tiled wall of the bathroom, "still feel nauseous as fuck... But not gonna throw up."

"Okay," Bella was inspecting him, seeming worried. She planted her hands on his cheek, then on his forehead, probably in search of a fever, but he was cold and clammy, "okay- I'll take the trash bin back to the room just in case and you can try some of the pepto. Maybe it'll work now."

"Maybe," he was exhausted. He yawned, protectively wrapping an arm around his middle and following his wife back to the room, "you'll keep giving me a belly rub...?"

Bella snorted, planting the bin down next to their bed and falling on it, gesturing for him to cuddle her, "yeah, duh. Of course."

[something-about-sunflowers]

God I hate egg 'jokes' so fucking much.

It's fucking INVASIVE.

Unless someone is making that joke about THEMSELF, it is overstepping.

Someone else's gender identity isn't for you to joke about.

Leave alone the reinforcement of binary gender ideology. . . 'Person who, as far as anything said publicly, is a man says they like to wear makeup or "women's" clothes? Must actually be a woman.'

Do you know that some trans men get egg jokes tossed at them when they don't 100% conform to traditional masculinity standards? As in 'people are joking about them being women because they "don't act like" men'.

Do you know that SOME trans women are actively hindered in their transitions because of people making egg jokes? People calling them eggs takes away from THEIR ability to go through the journey to figure out their gender and they resist going down that route because they are now not able to reach the conclusion on their own.

If people ever did egg jokes about trans men/mascs this would have 100% been my response to someone doing it to me.

But then we don't do egg jokes about trans men, do we?

Yall don't look at a butch woman and go 'any day now he's gonna crack', do you?

Now part of that is that yall love to demonize masculinity* and consider 'man' to be a unambiguously bad thing for any person to be, but the other part is that you understand that it's wrong to speculate about a woman's (or 'woman's') gender identity.

Keep that same energy for men (AND 'men').

(*Masculinity is a morally neutral thing. Patriarchal masculinity is bad because it is a form - AND VEHICLE - of systemic oppression**, but not all expressions masculinity stem from patriarchal masculinity.)

(**EVEN MEN ARE NEGATIVELY IMPACTED BY THE PATRIARCHY. BENEFITING FROM THE SYSTEM IF YOU CONFORM TO THE EXACTING STANDARDS YOU ARE HELD TO - ALL OF THE TIME - IS NOT ACTUALLY A BENEFIT. IF YOU STRAY YOU ARE PUNISHED. THIS IS PART OF WHY TRANS WOMEN ARE TREATED SO POORLY, BECAUSE THEY DON'T CONFORM TO THE PATRIARCHAL STANDARDS OF WHAT 'MEN' SHOULD BE, ON ACCOUNT OF THEM BEING WOMEN.)

[eraserbread]

megumi's babysitter x dad!jo

"and they lived happily ever after... the end."

next to you, tucked politely under his covers, megumi scowls at nothing, soft cheeks all bunched up and unimpressed. he doesn't like bedtime stories, but his dad insisted he open his imagination at least once a day. come to think of it... his dad has quite a few odd requests he insists upon.

"even you don't believe that, do you, nana?" for his age, megumi is extremely well and thoroughly spoken. he calls you by a nickname, because he prefers it over yours, and his dad introduced you as a nanny, though you were more his babysitter. you just let the kid say what he wants, correcting him isn't what you should spend your energy on.

"in some circumstances, yes," you mutter, kicked up in his big, downy bed. he's so babyish when he's sleepy, trying everything to keep his eyes open so he can hear your response. you laugh softly. "alright, megumi. I'll stop bothering you."

"is my dad home?" he asks as you slip out of his bed, eyes finally fully shut. glancing at the clock on his bedside, you nod.

"he should be. i'm sure he'll come kiss you goodnight."

"don't want him to kiss me goodnight." he grumbles, then succumbs to the throbbing pressure of sleep. it happens so quickly with children, you're almost jealous of how peaceful he looks when he's asleep.

you laugh at his early set pessimism, turning around to leave the room and him to his sleep.

you're humming a tune buried deep in your mind as you gently close megumi's door. the lights in the hallway are off, just like you left them, but towards the kitchen, a warm spill of light coats the expensive wood flooring.

you smile, knowing there's only one person flicking on that lamp. as you approach, familiar laughter booms from around the kitchen, your silent footsteps are strict and strong as they make their way to your... boss.

yeah, boss is easy enough.

"ah, suguru, you know that's not true. i only told her what she wanted to hear." gojo leans over his counter, freakishly long forearms resting on the cool marble. he's yapping about on the phone, messy, light bangs covering his beautiful face.

"look who it is!" he notices you immediately, holding the phone from his ear so he can shoot you a wave. "is megumi asleep?"

"won't be for much longer if you keep yelling like that."

he laughs again, sending a silvery hot wave of shivers through your body. there's something here with you two. something both of you partake in and never mention outside of the headiness. a piece of you knows it's wrong, taboo, almost. but gojo is so well-behaved around his son that it doesn't really matter. megumi could be in the attic, and he in the basement, and gojo would still never utter a curse.

let alone show you any ounce of devotion or sensuality.

you're not quite sure why that concept is barreling toward a change tonight.

maybe it's the way he looks in those pressed, black dress pants or how his gold rings shimmer on his long, long fingers. perhaps it's that special, sharp-toothed smile that does you in, but you're in,

and you're drowning.

"well, that's not a very funny joke."

"i don't joke." you don't mean to sound aloof or off-putting, and gojo understands that. he thinks you and his megumi are very much alike in terms of personality. it seems he reels in the quiet, mysterious kind with his stupid dad jokes and caring archetype.

"'course you don't." gojo mutters, then turns back to his phone conversation. "megumi's babysitter’s in the room, I'll call you back... alrighty friend... see 'ya..."

"he had the rest of his noodles from yesterday for dinner... made sure he did all of his homework and cleaned out his backpack for him, too."

"and you made his school lunch?"

"yes, sir."

"and a nighttime bath? they're his favorite."

you nod. "hair washed, too."

"good, good." he stands up straight, blue dress shirt clinging to his familiar, dewy skin. you can't help but trail your view from his glimmering lips, down to the gold on his neck that runs into the collar of his shirt... so mystifying...

he's getting less strict around you, now. you can tell when he walks over to you, smirking the corners of his lips up. instantly, you're standing up straight, lips parted as he closes in.

he's not usually so careless, but you look so beautiful right now. you treat his baby like he's your own and are thoughtful and motherly to the core. it's based in everything you do, even to the way your hand reaches up to cradle his cheek when he kisses you.

this is your reward for a night well done. a kiss to the lips, his long arms crossed around your waist, and your name in the air. one kiss doesn't suffice, he has to pull you in closer, arching your back with the strength of his grip as he kisses you again.

then, again.

and again, this time. tilting his head so he can deepen it. his tongue is peeking from his lips, sliding against the swell of yours before they're tasting your sweet warmth.

he only pulls away because he's breathless. so are you -- flushed to the core, as well.

"wh-what was that for?" you're looking away, pressing the back of your wrist to your lips as you blush uncontrollably. he's just smiling at you, still holding you tight.

"a bonus for a job well done." then, he's pulling away, leaving you cold and touchless.

he's never done more than that, and that's the most he's done. you understand it's out of respect for you and professionalism, but when you're being pulled into rooms and kissed while on the job, it's inevitable that those lines start to fade together until they dissipate completely.

but you don't want any lines with your boss. you want him on top of you. you want to tangle your hands in his hair and stare into his freakish blues until his gaze feels like home.

"again - great job, today. gonna go kiss my megumi goodnight. feel free to take your leave whenever you're comfortable!"

"uh-" you start, but he's waving you off, back facing your reddened face. "okay..."

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ honesty is a virtue

type of post: short fic characters: lilia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, a little suggestive, actually a lot suggestive, this is based off a stupid joke I made, reader is older than nrc students etc

It had started as a joke.

IT WAS A JOKE!!!

How could you have known? You had had your suspicions, but it's not like anyone tells you these things.

You meant it as a JOKE!

"Yeah, well, I fucked your dad,"

Sebek looked absolutely horrified, as if you had just told him his pet puppy died. Silver was stuck in place, pale, staring at you. Malleus chuckled.

You look between the three, confused. "Relax, guys, I was kidding,"

Sebek's horror immediately twists into rage, his whole face going red. "HAVE YOU NO DECENCY? TO JOKE ABOUT SUCH VULGAR THINGS!!!"

"Sebek, it's alright," Malleus interrupts, smirking. Weird. Usually, he's the one who doesn't get your jokes. "They didn't know."

"Didn't know?" you ask. "Didn't know what?"

Malleus chuckles, and pats your head like one would a puppy, or a small child. "Some things are better left unsaid, child of man. You should know better than to make such comments around the younger students, though,"

"...Oh, right," you mutter. "Oops."

Sebek still looks like he's about to burst a blood vessel.

"...It's fine, I'm not offended. I was just... surprised, that's all," Silver says, the color slowly returning to his face.

You still can't seem to figure out what it is. You'd made crude jokes in front of them before, they're not that young, Lilia has said much worse, and you'd only been messing with them. Besides, you don't even know their dad.

Or so you thought.

"Knock knock~" a familiar, cheery voice calls out for you, opening your door.

You look up from your phone, trying to distract yourself from your earlier embarrassment.

"Oh... hey, Lilia,"

"Busy?" he asks, letting himself in, anyway.

"Uh... no. Not really. Is everything okay?"

The fae smiles, the tips of his fangs visible between his lips. He's got that look on him again.

"Malleus told me you caused quite the commotion, earlier,"

Oh, great. Now him, too? You're never gonna live this down. You sigh.

"I..." you hesitate. You really don't want to be scolded again, and you've heard that Lilia can be quite scary when he's mad.

"...We were all just... having a silly little argument, nothing serious, and I made a bad joke, I guess."

"Which waaaas?"

At least he doesn't seem upset, you think. If anything, he seems amused. Which isn't great, either.

You sigh again. "...I joked, in a jokey manner, in a joking conversation, that I had... done certain things with their father,"

"And is that true?"

"What?" you scoff, almost in disbelief. Is he really turning this into a lecture about lying? He never lectures you. "Obviously not! I was joking! People make those kinds of jokes all the time!"

"Ah, but how careless of you. Poor Sebek almost fainted," Lilia says, taking a seat on your bed next to you. He really is turning this into a lecture...

"Hm. But would you like it to be true?"

Pause.

Huh?

Even when he's scolding, he finds a way to surprise you. And yet... what if he's not scolding at all...?

You give him a weird look. "Meaning what?"

Lilia giggles, and you catch a glimmer in his eye. He's teasing. Not lecturing. Teasing. What is he...

"Remember how I told you that I'm much older than I look?"

Oh.

Oh, no.

Your stomach drops. Everyone's horrified looks, Malleus' amusement, Lilia's teasing, suddenly make sense.

"No,"

"Yes," Lilia lowers his eyes, getting closer. "I must say, I'm flattered. But it was rather cruel of you to lie to my boys. I'm simply suggesting we... make that lie a truth."

You stare at him, unflinching. Perhaps you'd always thought he was a little cute, perhaps you're just thinking it now. What you're sure of, though, is that you could hold this over everyone's heads forever. He knows it, too.

Finally, you nod.

Lilia sets a hand on your knee and leans a little closer. "Good. Honesty is a virtue, after all,"

[marvelfilth]

The mustache

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Natasha crashes your date

Masterlist

You let a fake laugh bubble out of your mouth for what feels like a hundredth time this evening. Your date looks smug, her eyes trailing over your form, almost leering. She takes a sip of her wine and licks her lips slowly, daring you to look.

You don't.

You can almost hear Natasha say I told you so.

You clear your throat and take another bite of a perfectly made steak - the only saving grace of this disastrous date.

You mentally cringe, closing your eyes briefly. Objectively, the date is going well - she showed up on time, held the door for you, helped you to your seat and made perfect small talk, occasionally throwing in a joke or two. You can excuse her wandering eyes, knowing you've been throwing mixed signals all evening.

You nod along to whatever story she's telling, smiling and chuckling when it's appropriate. You barely resist the urge to excuse yourself. You chew on your lower lip, wondering how you allowed yourself to get in such a mess.

Your phone chimes once, screen lightning up with a new notification.

Natasha.

Yep. Here's your answer.

You look at your date, hating how different her smile is from your best friends. It's too large, too open and not even half as genuine. Natasha's smiles are small, barely noticeable, but they're enough to make your breath come short.

You sigh. You need to stop comparing your every date to Natasha.

“Do you mind if I take a look? It might be important,” you ask, reaching for your phone. She nods happily, waving the waiter over for another glass of wine.

How bad is it?

You snort, coughing immediately to cover up the sound and reaching for your glass.

Another message appears right in front of your eyes.

That bad?

You choke on your wine, discreetly looking around, but coming up short.

Six o'clock, dumbass.

You wait a moment and look right behind you, mouth falling open when you finally see her.

She's sitting three tables down, wearing your favorite hoodie and a black cap. With sunglasses covering her eyes. In a dimly lit restaurant. What makes you let out a strangled laugh, though, is a perfect old fashioned mustache glued right under her nose. She twirls both ends around her fingers, curling them up, before lowering her glasses and sending you an exaggerated wink.

The best spy in the world, the woman who made entire governments collapse, is sitting right behind you, looking like a child playing dress up.

You whip around, your face red, and wave off your date's concerned look. “I'm alright.��

She nods, all too happy to continue talking about all of the famous people she's met through her job.

You hide your phone under the table and shoot your best friend a text.

You're ridiculous

Her reply comes instantly.

And yet you love me.

Her words hit a little too close to home.

You are hopelessly in love with your best friend.

Another message comes through.

What's wrong?

You frown, eyes darting around. You didn't even do anything to warrant the question.

And don't even try to lie. I can tell something's wrong.

You sigh, tell Natasha everything is fine, and place your phone face down on the table, your date still recounting a story of how she met some actress.

The next half an hour is tense. You can feel Natasha's eyes on you. You can hear her plotting a way to get you out of here, but you know you have to at least try to make it work, if not with… Connie? Courtney? Then with someone else, before you go completely mad.

Your phone rings. You can't stop yourself from picking it up.

“Sorry, it’s an emergency.” Your excuse sounds bad even to your own ears, and you wince when your date pointedly looks away with pursed lips.

“Do you want me to throw her out of the window?” She starts without a preamble. “If not, I have a knife in my boot and you know how good I am with knives.”

“Can't you handle it without me?” You ask, knowing Natasha will play along. Your date reaches for her purse, dejected. Guilt swirls in your chest, and you contemplate your next words. Maybe you should stay and-

“Don't feel bad, she's been looking at the blonde to your right since she came in,” Natasha drawls, “and no, I can't handle it without you. I need you back home.”

You blush, biting on your lower lip.

“I'm sorry, but there's been an-”

“Just go,” your date cuts you off, “I'll handle the bill.” Her eyes are on the blonde girl before she's done speaking, and you leave with your conscience clear.

Natasha catches up to you outside and leads you to her corvette - her sunglasses and cap are gone, but that ridiculous mustache is still in place.

“What do you think?” She asks as she opens the door for you before going around the car and taking a seat behind the wheel. “I like the look.”

You snort and shake your head, amused with your best friend's antics. “It's… something.”

She rolls her eyes, starting the engine. “I know you love it.”

You hum, relaxing against the soft leather, your worries stoved away by Natasha's calming presence.

“Why do you keep going on dates if you hate it so much?” She asks when you reach Compound gates.

You sigh, think of an answer that would get her off your back without making her suspicious.

“I just… I-” you stutter, wincing.

Great.

She raises an eyebrow, looking absolutely ridiculous, but so, so beautiful, it makes your entire chest ache.

The car comes to a stop, and Natasha focuses all of her attention on you.

“I need to get over someone.”

There, you've said it.

“Who?” She asks, and for the first time in all the years you've known her you can't read her at all.

“You don't know them.”

She looks ahead, her jaw clenched tight. “How long?”

You blink away the tears. “A few years.”

She looks down at her lap, her fingers tapping against her thigh. “Who?” She asks again.

“Natasha…”

“Is it Carol?” Her voice is tight, her eyes dart around the street.

“God no,” you chuckle, thinking about your blond friend. Valkyrie would kill you on the spot if you even looked at her the wrong way, not that you're interested anyway. They need to get over themselves and finally admit their feelings to each other. Anyone can see their pining from a mile away.

“Kate?”

You shake your head. “You don't know them.”

“Then tell me. What would it matter?”

“Nat, can we just-”

“Tell me.”

You groan, and turn to open the door, but Natasha’s hand landing on your thigh stops you. You swallow, freezing on the spot.

“Please.”

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the inevitable. “It's you,” you whisper.

The hand on your thigh clumps tight. “What?”

“It's you,” you repeat, feeling braver after the admission. “Always you.”

She lets out a deep, shaky breath, before reaching for your face with her other hand. “Look at me, please.”

You face her, eyes still closed, a few tears sliding down your cheeks. They're wiped away a moment later, and your face gets enveloped in the softest warmth.

“Open your eyes.”

You swallow, and do as she asked. She looks at you like you're the most precious thing in the world.

“I love you.”

Your heart skips a beat at her words, lips falling open. “What?”

She smiles, her thumb tracing patterns on your wet cheek. “I love you.”

You look at her for a long moment, taking in her features - her forest green eyes, tender and soft, the slope of her nose, so kissable. Your eyes trail lower and then suddenly a loud laugh makes its way out of your chest. You bend, clutching your stomach, happy tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.

Natasha looks delightfully confused.

“I'm sorry, it's just…” you giggle, pointing at her face, “the mustache.”

She groans, tearing it away. “I've been going crazy all this time, you know.”

“Yeah?” You grin, head spinning.

“Yeah,” she says before claiming your lips. She's soft, so soft it makes your toes curl and your chest get warm and fuzzy. The kiss is gentle, loving. You mewl against her, opening your mouth and welcoming her tongue.

The kiss grows heated.

“I,” you gasp between the kisses, “I love you. So much.”

You can feel her blinding smile in the next kiss, and the one that comes after.

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio DP x DC Nobody Knows AU Part 7

Part 6

The door Sam knocks on is in a much nicer building than she expected.

She and Tucker are visiting Danny for dinner - and boy did they both nearly burst with excitement when he shyly extended the invitation - and frankly Sam had expected an apartment building in the Narrows or Park Row.

Danny was a teenage runaway less than a decade ago, for God's sake. Forgive her and Tucker for assuming he'd still be getting his feet under him and scraping by.

This? This is not that.

Sam has half a mind to think Danny is sugaring. He certainly wouldn't have any trouble - the Danny that disappeared from Amity was cute, but small and awkward in that teenage way. The grown up Danny they've been reconnecting with? He's tall, lean and positively gorgeous.

She wouldn't have a problem with that, per say. But the Danny they knew was also too nice for his own good and starved for positive attention. If someone was taking advantage of that Sam would kill them. 

Separation did not quell her instinct to wrap Danny up and protect him from the world, it would seem.

There's a slight commotion after the knock before Danny himself is yanking the door open with a grin that's happy and nervous at the same time.

“Guys! Hey! Come in!”

He ushers them inside with all the energy of an overgrown puppy, something that hasn't changed one bit since they were kids.

Sam shivers a little as they enter, assuming there's an AC unit blowing over the entryway at first. She smiles at Danny's back as he babbles at them.

“I kind of lost track of time, so food isn't actually ready yet, but then I thought - hey! Who cares! We can cook together and it'll be fun! I got all vegan stuff too so we can make a meaty pizza for Tuck and a different one for you, Sam-”

The apartment they walk into is a spacious open floor plan, furniture in blacks and grays. She shivers again. Seriously-

“Your AC on the fritz or something?” Tucker asks, rubbing his arms a little. “It's like fifty degrees in here, man.”

Danny freezes for a second on his way to the kitchen space before turning around and beelining for a wall - the thermostat.

“Shit, sorry! Sit, sit! I knew I was forgetting something,” he grumbles as he flaps a hand towards the black bar stools at the kitchen island and fiddles with the thermostat. “I like the cold, I always have it too low for most people in here. Sorry about that, it'll get better soon.”

Sam and Tucker exchange bewildered looks as they sit at the kitchen island. There's liking it cool, and there's fucking freezing.

“Guess I don't have to ask your favorite season,” Tucker jokes, and Danny offers him an apologetic grin as he lopes back over.

“Yeah, probably a safe guess,” he chuckles on his way to the fridge. “You guys want drinks? I have a homemade sangria if you want. Beer, wine, you name it.”

Tucker opts for a beer. Sam asks for the homemade sangria, curious. Danny pours two glasses and takes an ice cube tray out to pop a couple of ice cubes in.

When the glass is set in front of her - “they're the stemless kind you can't knock over. Cool, right? Look at ‘em wobble, they're just little guys.” - she raises an eyebrow.

The ice cubes are in the shape of little ghosts. Tucker snorts when he sees them, taking the bottle opener Danny offers for his beer.

“Ghosts? Really?”

Danny blinks like he'd forgotten he had a novelty ice cube tray, then grins and shrugs.

“I mean. What else is being from Amity good for if not inside jokes?”

He turns away before she can respond with any form of bewilderment - Danny had been known for disappearing during ghost fights, after all. He was terrified of them. She hadn't expected him to want any reminders of ghosts or his ghost hunter parents.

Sorry - Jack and Maddie.

With two resounding thunks, Danny slaps store bought dough onto his nice dark counters. He at least remembered to leave them out to rise. 

“Alright! While I roll this out, it's time to pick your toppings lady and gent - go wild, go ham. Let me show you my selection.”

He opens the fridge again, pulling out meats and veggies and cheeses abound. Sam notes vegan cheese alternatives in the mix with a warm fondness in her chest. She's stricter about being vegetarian than vegan, but the fact that Danny went that extra little mile? 

Yeah. Yeah, this is still her boy. She missed having two of them. She and Tuck were never meant to be without a Danny, and she can see on Tucker's face that he feels the same way.

Smiling and standing to start looking through the options, Sam sips her sangria. 

It’s delicious, and the little ghost ice cubes smile back up at her like they're as glad as she is to be here.

Masterpost

[jesswritesthat]

Bakugō Katsuki: Engineer

Fandom: BNHA // MHA — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: ~1.5k, fluff, a little violence.

• Being a talented inventor meant your skills were sought by many (both good and bad), but then you catch the attention of Dynamight.

Warnings: Cursing, violence, mention of weapons, post time skip.

>>>>——————————>

"You can't be serious Bakugō-san."

The pro snapped to his trusty assistant, raising an expectant brow when replying like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You said they're the best. That's who I want for my agency."

"Yes but—"

"But nothing! Do you know where I can find them?"

"Everyone who has tried has been refused. Their infamous talent has been sought by heroes, big companies, and even villainous characters... All of whom failed to hire them."

"’Cause I haven't asked yet."

"Bakugō-san, I know there's no convincing you otherwise but, I'd recommend having other options available at least."

True to his assistants' warnings, you were no easy recruit, all his efforts at communication were futile. Emails? Calls? Letters? You hadn't replied to any of his professional outreach methods and he suspected this was a common occurrence for you.

Fine then, he'd turn up the heat. Your workshop address wasn't a secret to those with connections and Bakugō wasn't one to give up without a fight. Literally, if need be.

———

It was a perplexing thing in the middle of nowhere, your workshop. A metal-like building heavily lined with obscure defensive weaponry as well as having access to your own personal scrapyard it seemed. But it was yours. A rumoured mechanical talent for crafting hero gear and inventions, one that drew attention from far and wide. However you were content in your independence, it was less hassle this way you'd hoped.

Alas, the confident banging on the metal entrance doors with conviction was far from unusual.

"I told ya, I don't—" You paused once sliding open the door and taking a look at your visitor, lifting your goggles and shifting to a smile. "Haven't seen you at my door before."

"Since ya didn't answer my calls or mail, I don't have a choice." The man seethed through gritted teeth, trying to be more 'accommodating' like advised.

"Oh? Which one are you again?" Your gaze flicked to a pile of (some charred) letters in a nearby bin, smile growing more smug by the second.

"Bakugō Katsuki. You might know me as Dynamight though."

"Yeah you're fun. I like you." You smirked proudly, honesty and bemusement present. "The way you yell at people resonates with me."

The man rolled his eyes with scoffing sound, choosing not to say anything rambunctious enough to have you slam the door in his face - still, he was surprised when you welcomed him in.

"Tch. S'pose you know why I'm here then."

"You, and many others. Had Lemillion here last month, least he bought me a welcome basket with cake and such." You joked, easing the caution the blonde seemed to be upholding around you with his natural personality showing.

"Tch, ain't gonna get you none of that crap unless you start working with me. I did bring something useful though because I'm better than the other extras you've dealt with." He held out a bag, one you quizzically explored to find a peculiar item to win one over with.

"A spanner...?"

It wasn't just a spanner, it was one of the newest, top of the grade, multi tool sets crafted by one of the big brands. Thoughtful. Very thoughtful actually...

"I appreciate it, but I can't accept something this expensive. Especially when I'm going to decline your offer."

"S'fine. It's a gift, but if you feel that guilty about it then you can fix my gauntlets." Bakugō justified rather abruptly, shoving the bag into your arms to ensure you took it.

"Alright. That sounds fair."

"I'll grab 'em from my car, get your shit ready."

That afternoon, you sat beside Katsuki as he talked you through the technicalities of his weaponry whilst you worked on them together. All the while diverting onto conversation tangents and making drinks mid way, he demonstrated his quirk - tiny sparkles of explosive lighting up his hand.

"They're pretty, your explosions."

"They’re deadly— I don't— shut up nerd!" He dismissed you briskly, turning away with an irritated growl.

———

Fixing his gear would be the first and last time you'd see Bakugō in person you assumed, considering you declined his job proposition and all.

So when you received another bout of rapid banging on metal the following week, you were surprised to find a smirking Dynamight rather than another recruiter.

"Shocked to see me or something?"

"Well I— yeah. Figured you'd take my refusal and go."

"Nah you did a good job with my gauntlets, wanted to see what else you're up to." Dynamight flexed his wrist for example, openly pleased with his gauntlets but seemed more so by your genuine reaction.

"Oh really?" You sounded truly perplexed, but also excited to share your work with someone. "Sure, I'll show you my latest ideas!"

Bakugō stayed a while, a couple of hours discussing applications for your inventions and inquiring as to whether there were any materials you were unable to obtain recently. Then it moved on to his occupation, his agency, and then to trivial matters such as popular restaurants around town.

“So, wanna join my agency yet?” The blonde threw over his shoulder on his way out of the door.

“No Dynamight, but thank you for asking and visiting.”

“Fine nerd. I’ll be back then.”

Now you didn’t believe that for a second when he slammed the door behind him, and you felt like he’d only asked for the sake of it - fully expecting you to say no. However, if he did decide to visit again, you wouldn’t be mad about it you concluded.

———

Unfortunately, your next set of individuals weren’t so welcomed. You’d seen them multiple times previously, each visit coming with its increase of pressure to work exclusively for them. A dealer who specialised in exporting weaponry to villains on the black market, they had both the money and power to pose either a threat or a reward. Except, your constant refusals had only fuelled their growing impatience which led them crashing down your door tonight with violence in their wake.

"C'mon (L/n), I came here personally just to hire you. We'll certainly pay you well enough~" The dealer slammed you into the wall, digits digging so deeply into your neck you barely managed a disgruntled wretch.

"I'll neve— ever work— for you assholes!"

"Too bad, the consequence for that is death y’know." You were slung across the floor, a gasp for breath futile when he aimed his pistol at your heart. "Want to reconsider yet?"

"Fuck you."

The gun safety clicked off, one of the henchman's quirks keeping you painfully immobile. If these were your final moments you were furious you hadn't completed your latest invention, maybe a little irritated you hadn't hit the code red before you were taken over by a damn quirk. You avoided pledging alliances to avoid this bullshit! You didn't work for any competitors, you weren't in the line of fire for sharing information, but now you can't even refuse work without getting caught in a crime web?! Society and talent is a sh—

Then an ear splitting bang echoed in the facility, dust clouds and debris forcing through the room like a tidal wave, leaving two intruders knocked out and the remainder covering their faces and yelling confused curses. That's when you saw sparks of light, a familiar explosion you had the privilege of seeing in person only once before.

He came back.

"That's why they call me Great Explosion Murder God!" He grinned menacingly, teeth bared like a predator with a dangerous glint in those crimson eyes. Sparks and smoke danced around him, the hero lowering both his stance and voice when he spoke what sounded like a protective threat.

"Now get away from my agency's' new engineer."

Oddly you felt butterflies in your stomach, but you'd narrowed that down to the whole situation being an absolute bombshell. You watched as Dynamight immobilised them effortlessly, the quirk being lifted allowing you to utilise your inventions - mechanised laser snipers pointed at the foreheads of your unwanted company, all programmed to fire with a snap of your fingers.

"Couldn't have done that sooner nerd?" The hero shot back to you tauntingly, but you didn’t miss how his gaze flared up at the sight of bruising on your neck when he’d scanned you for injury.

"Then you'd be out of a job, hero."

It took no longer than ten minutes for the authorities to arrive, during that time Dynamight had retrieved any information he’d wanted. As well as issuing basic first aid to you contrastingly softly in comparison to the deathly interrogation the dealer experienced.

You’d be taken to hospital for a check of course, (Bakugō personally walking you to your escort since he couldn’t drive you himself right now) but before you bid farewell you had a burning question.

"When can I start?"

"Hah?" Came his classic recall, snapping to you with a look of angry curiosity.

"You called me your engineer, I was wondering when that begins." Your voice was quieter now, but upon realising Katsuki seemed a little embarrassed with hand rubbing his neck and honest answer spilled.

"It's your choice, but I figured saying that would get others off your back when word gets around. You'd be left in peace for a while to continue your work."

"And if I want to work with you, when would you want me at the agency?

"All the time." Just as quickly as he spoke, he realised his lack of hesitance, awkwardly huffing and rephrasing all in one. "I'll send over a contract, you can move stuff into the lab if you like the terms."

"Then I look forward to working with you, boss." Gladly, you held out your hand to him, pleased smirk plastered on your features.

"Call me Katsuki." He shook your hand, victorious grin in play. "And the pleasure’s all mine."

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[itneverendshere]

I love bartender!reader!!!!!! She seems so sweet and collected...but I was wondering if she's got a little fire in her? Maybe they're at a party together and she gets jealous......which is new because she's usually the calm one out of her and rafe. Hope you're doing great <3

loved writing this bc you're so right!!! it's just so not like her to lose her temper over trivial things but oh🫣 hope you're doing just a great as well💖

i'm usually so unproblematic - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: allusions to smut but no actual smut.

You’re sitting in Rafe’s truck, staring out at the huge house in front of you, stomach in knots. It’s a mansion, more like.

Kook house. Kook party. Rich people everywhere. You can already hear the distant thrum of music, even from inside the car, bass-heavy, vibrating through the seats.

You chew your bottom lip and glance over at Rafe. He’s calm, casually messing with the radio, probably about to put on those trashy songs he loves that you absolutely hate but pretend to like because you love him.

It's insane how easy it is for him to just... be cool about this. But you?

You’re not so sure.

"This was a bad idea," you mumble, half-joking but also half-serious.

Rafe turns to you, one eyebrow raised, lips pulling into a crooked smile. “Nervous?”

You give him a look. “Obviously. I’m not...I don’t do these things. I don’t know these people.”

You’ve been with Rafe for almost a year now, give or take. Said your I love yous, met each other’s families. Hell, you’ve spent more time at Tannyhill than at your own place lately, and you’ve grown used to Rafe’s kook side. His friends, though? These parties? A whole other beast.

“I already met Topper. Isn’t that enough?”

He laughs under his breath, reaching over to take your hand. “You’ll be fine. It’s Kelce, and a few other people. No big deal.”

No big deal, you think. Easy for him to say when he’s been around these people his whole life. For you, being a pogue, working extra shifts at the country club just to pay rent… yeah, this is a little different.

“I know, I know. I’ll be fine. It’s just— I’m out of my element.”

He squeezes your hand. “Hey. You’re with me. That’s all that matters.” 

You’re with Rafe. The Rafe who loves you, who can’t keep his hands off you even when you’re just watching movies. The Rafe who gets jealous over dumb things, like if you laugh too hard at one of JJ’s jokes, even though he’s just your seventeen-year-old neighbor. The Rafe who texts you goodnight, even when you’re in the same room, because he’s a sap and you secretly love it.

“Alright, let’s go,” you agree, trying to hype yourself up.

Rafe smiles, and then he’s out of the truck, jogging over to your side to open the door for you, like a perfect gentleman. You roll your eyes but step out, the night air brushing your bare shoulders. You weren’t sure how to dress for this party, so you chose to wear something…safe. A pretty red top you only used on special occasions and your best demim skirt. It wasn’t exactly kook material but at least you weren’t in your worn-out shorts and usual crop top or in your work uniform.

The moment you walk inside, though, it’s like stepping into a different world. The house is packed. People everywhere, laughing, drinking, hanging by the pool. Everything’s pristine and polished, and you feel their eyes on you the second you walk in.

Rafe wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Want a drink?” he asks, leaning down so you can hear him over the music.

You nod, trying not to let the fact that people are definitely staring at you freak you out. You’re not a Kook. You’re his girl, though, and you know how much that pisses some of them off.

A few minutes later, you’ve got a drink in hand, and Kelce’s talking your ear off about something you don’t really understand. Golf. You smile and nod along, doing your best to keep up, but the truth is, you’re not listening. You’re too busy watching the crowd, still feeling like you don’t fit in. Like you never really will.

That’s when you notice her. Tall. Pretty, in that rich, polished way that’s almost too perfect. And she’s glaring. Right. At. You.

Your stomach drops, and you tear your eyes away, sipping your drink to cover the dread that suddenly hits you. You don’t know who she is, but she’s been staring at you since you walked in, and it’s starting to mess with your head. Was there something on your face? Had you met before at the club? Maybe she didn't like your drinks.

“Baby, you okay?” Rafe’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, his hand resting on the small of your back.

“Yeah, fine,” you lie, forcing a smile. He frowns slightly but doesn’t push it. Kelce’s still talking, oblivious.

You try to ignore it, but as the night goes on, she keeps popping up. Always staring. Always with that look crazied in her eyes. Like she could kill you. You’ve had a couple drinks by now, and your nerves are turning into a kind of irritation.

Finally, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, needing a break from the overwhelming feeling of being watched. You lock the door behind you, exhaling slowly as you stare at your reflection. Were you seeing things? Overreacting? Surely, Rafe or Kelce would’ve noticed as well, right? Or maybe they were used to this. 

I’m just overthinking it, you tell yourself. I’m fine. She’s just..

But when you open the door to leave, she’s there. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, staring at you with that same stupid look, like you personally offended her by daring to exist. 

“Can I help you?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

She doesn’t smile. Doesn’t even flinch. Just tilts her head, giving you the most disgusted once-over you’ve ever seen in your life. “You’re Rafe’s new thing, huh?”

What? You’ve had just enough to drink that your filter is basically nonexistent now. You blink, confusion killing the buzz in your head. “Sorry, do I know you?”

“No,” she says, her voice dripping with disdain. “But I know you.”

You laugh awkwardly, nothing about this is funny. “Okay? So what’s your problem?”

Her eyes narrow, lips tinted pink curling. Oh, she’s mad now. She steps up closer to you, practically chest-to-chest. “My problem is that I don’t get why someone like you is with Rafe. He used to have a certain standard.”

Oh.

You almost laugh again because...wow. Really? That’s what this is about? “Okay, Regina George,” you mutter under your breath. You’re not in the mood for this. You tilt your head, giving her your best innocent smile.  “And who are you?”

“Sophie. I dated Rafe for two years, before you, obviously,” she says, like that’s supposed to mean something. You didn’t know him back then, you hadn’t even spoken a word to him. "Guess he didn’t mention me."

His ex. Of course. Of course she’s his ex. 

You snort before you can stop yourself. "Nope, pretty sure he forgot to bring you up.”

You feel a little sting of jealousy in your chest, but you try to swallow it down. You’re not about to let this girl get under your skin. You’re better than that. You didn’t know him, it’s fine.

 “I’m not really interested in whatever this is.” You move to step around her, but she blocks your path.

“Just a word of advice,” she grits out, like you’ve personally offended her, “He’s not the kind of guy who sticks around for long. Especially not with girls like you.”

That does it. The alcohol, the nerves, the whole night—you’re seconds away from losing it. “What the hell is your problem?” you snap, your hands curling into fists at your sides.

“Dirty pogues who think—”

"Okay. I’m not gonna play whatever this is with you," you interrupt her, gesturing between the two of you, stepping forward so you’re toe-to-toe with her now. "If he wanted to be with a walking Vineyard Vines ad, he would be. But he’s not. He’s with me."

“You really think you’re different?” she spits, voice laced with venom. "Like you're special?"

Your laugh comes out sharp, more of a bark. “If you were so special, you wouldn’t be here, playing guard dog outside the bathroom. Move."

“Or what?” she challenges, her lips curling in that same superior smirk that makes your blood boil. “What are you gonna do, pogue?”

That’s it. You feel the fire flare up in your chest. Screw this girl. Your hands ball into fists, and you’re half a second from knocking that smug look right off her face when Topper steps in.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, let’s not turn this into Jerry Springer, alright?" He holds up his hands like he’s breaking up a fight at a middle school dance. You’re staring daggers at Sophie, and she’s glaring right back, but his hands are still up, a peacekeeper grin plastered across his face as he looks between the two of you. “Let’s not do this,” his eyes landing on Sophie. “C’mon, Soph, no need for the drama, yeah?”

She scoffs, crossing her arms and stepping back with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “Whatever, Topper.

He watches her go before turning back to you, eyebrows raised. “You good?”

You nod, still fuming, but grateful he stepped in when he did. "Yeah. Thanks."

You let him take you away because if he doesn’t, you're going to follow her and throw a drink in her face or do something worse. You feel like you could punch her right in her perfect, stuck-up face. 

He leads you back to where Rafe is, and you’re too upset to even look at him. His hands are on you the second you’re close, pulling you to him like he can tell something’s off. "Baby," his lips brush against your temple. "What’s wrong? You look like you’re ready to kill someone."

You don’t answer. You can’t. Not without completely blowing up.

Rafe’s brow furrows, his eyes darting between you and Topper. “What the hell happened?” he asks again, more forceful this time.

Topper gives him a look but doesn’t say anything, just shrugs. “Nothing, man. Just some girl drama. Don’t worry about it.”

Girl drama your ass.

He turns to you, and suddenly, he’s all over you, his hands on your waist, the other settling on the back of your head, “Baby, talk to me. What’s going on?”

You pull away, shaking your head, still too mad to speak.

He follows, his hands reaching for yours. “Hey, c’mon.”

Finally, you look at him. Really look at him. And the second you see his face, that stupid, worried puppy-dog expression, the anger starts to melt away.

“I’m mad,” you admit, “I got jealous. Your ex’s a bitch.”

Rafe blinks, and then, to your surprise, he laughs. A real, genuine laugh. You glare at him. “It’s not funny!”

“No, no, it’s not,” he says, quickly sobering, though there’s still a stupid smirk at his lips. “I just, I’ve never seen you jealous before.”

You cross your arms, still pouting. “I’m serious, Rafe. She was awful.”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. “I don’t care about her. At all. I care about you.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart is softening. “She said you wouldn’t stick around.”

Rafe’s smile fades, and he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. “That’s bullshit. You know that, right?”

"She’s a psycho.”

Rafe’s expression changes, his frown deepening. "Sophie?"

"Yeah," you snap, because you hate the sound of her name coming out of his lips, "Sophie. Called me a dirty pogue, which—real original.”

“She what?” Rafe’s jaw tightens, and for a second, you see a flash of that old Rafe—the one who’d get into fights at the drop of a hat. "I’ll handle it.”

You’ve seen it before—his protective streak, the one that could turn dangerous if he wasn’t careful. Part of you loves it, the way he’d go to war for you without even blinking. But another part of you hates that you have so much power over him.

But right now, you’re still too mad to care about him handling anything. You push past him, heading for the exit, needing air, needing space. Everything inside you is on fire, and all you can think is that you need to get out. Anything but this house full of people who make you feel like you’re just dirt. People like her. You can’t stop hearing her nasal voice in your head, those snide comments digging into you like little needles, bringing up that same old insecurity.

“Baby, hold on,” His voice is behind you, and his hand is instantly catching yours, tugging you back before you can make it to the door.

You spin around, already ready to snap, but then you see his face—eyes wide, brow furrowed like he’s genuinely freaked out that you’re upset. “Don’t listen to her, she’s full of shit.”

You stare at him, your chest tight and aching, because yeah, you know she’s full of it, but it still got to you. It still hurt. “It just…” You swallow hard, trying to find the right words, even though everything feels like a mess. “It got in my head, Rafe. Like, I hate that she said that. I’m so sick of people looking at me like I don’t belong just because I’m not—”

He cuts you off, stepping closer, and before you can even finish the thought, he's dragging you into him. “You belong with me. That’s all that matters.”

You let out a breath, but you’re still worked up, “But it’s like—I don’t need some stuck-up kook girl who thinks she’s better than me telling me I don’t fit in. I know I’m not like them, but she said it like I wasn’t good enough for you. Like I’m just some—”

Rafe’s lips are on yours before you can finish. He only pecks you, but it’s enough to shut you up, to make your brain go silent for a second. “Stop,” his voice is almost pleading. “Stop thinking like that. I love you, okay? I don’t care what anyone else says.”

You blink up at him, you want to stay mad, but also want to let it go because he’s right here, so close, and he’s got that look on his face that makes your heart flip. “You don’t get it.”

He pulls you closer, hands gripping your hips like he can’t stand to have any space between you. “Then tell me,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Tell me why you’re letting her get in your head.”

You huff, but the fight in you is starting to die out. “Because she made me feel like I’m less.”

He tilts your head back just enough to look at you, “That’s bullshit,” his fingers are gentle as they trail up your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You feel a little stupid for letting that girl get to you in the first place. But damn it, you’ve heard it before—from other people, from yourself—that nagging voice that says you’re not enough.

“I know.” you mumble though you’re still a little embarrassed.

Rafe smiles then, that sweet smile he only ever gives you, and he presses his lips to your forehead. “Good,” he says, tugging you even closer, like he’s trying to wrap himself around you. “Because I’m obsessed with you, and I don’t care what her or anyone else says.”

You let out a shaky laugh, finally letting yourself relax in his arms. “You’re obsessed with me?” you tease, tilting your head to meet his eyes.

“Hell yeah,” he grins, his hands sliding up your back, one hand slipping down to squeeze your ass, his thumb sliding just under the hem of your skirt. “I can’t keep my hands off you. You know that. It’s becoming a real problem.”

You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool, but you don’t stop the giggle from bubbling out. The way he’s looking at you right now, like he can’t even think straight because you’re standing in front of him—it drives you up the walls. Then he leans down and kisses you again, and this time it’s not...casual. His lips move against yours like he’s trying to take every thought in your head, and it’s working. Your hands slide up, wrapping around his neck as his tongue brushes against yours. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this. 

He grips you harder, lips moving to brush against your ear, “You’re mine, baby and I’m not fucking going anywhere.”

That hits you, hard, like a truth he always reassures you off but still feels brand new when he does say it. Everything that pissed you off, all the crap Sophie said, it doesn’t matter anymore. 

“Stop making me horny,” You whine out, tugging at his shirt and pulling him closer. You can feel his grin against your skin as he leans in, biting your lip playfully before kissing you again, you know he’s enjoying teasing you. His hand slides down to grab a handful of your ass again, making you gasp against his mouth, and you feel him smirk.

“I like you horny.”

You’re in the middle of this stupid party, surrounded by people who probably hate you for breathing, but all you can think about is how much you want him right now. His lips move over yours like he’s trying to claim you, and you’re more than happy to let him. It’s messy, all tongues and spit, but you don’t care. You love how rough and needy he is, how he groans into your mouth like he’s been dying to kiss you all night. It’s the kind of kiss that leaves you dizzy, the room spinning, and you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or him—or both.

You tug at his shirt, frustrated with how much fabric is in the way, and he chuckles against your mouth, biting down on your bottom lip just hard enough to make you gasp. His hands slide down up to your neck, tightening just enough around your throat, and you let out a soft whimper into his mouth, making him grin.

“You're just so—” his lips brush over your cheek, then down to your bottom lip, kissing and biting just hard enough to make you squirm, "Beautiful, aren't you?"

You’re normally not one for pda, not at all. The idea of people watching, of eyes on you while you're with someone, always made your skin crawl. But when Rafe kisses you like this? When he’s got his hands on you? God, your brain just goes dumb, and every ounce of self-consciousness fizzes out. It's embarrassing, almost. All you can think about is the way he’s making you feel, the way he’s holding you against him, leaving you breathless and wanting more. You’re so not this person, not the girl who makes out with her boyfriend in the middle of a crowded room.

But with Rafe? You can’t even think straight. 

His hands slide under your skirt for the millionth time, blunt fingernails gripping your plushy thighs, and you nearly whine, “Rafe,” you breathe, trying to pull away long enough to think properly, but he just kisses you harder, more insistent. “Baby, stop,” you manage to whisper, though you don’t mean it at all.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes all dark, his breath hot against your lips. “You want me to stop?” he teases, his hands still tight on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin in a way that makes your knees go weak.

You shake your head, biting your lip, and his grin widens. “Didn’t think so,” he murmurs before leaning in to kiss you again, like he can’t help himself, and honestly? Neither can you. You’re so turned on, it’s ridiculous. 

“I—fuck,” you pant, trying to get the words out between kisses, but he’s relentless, pressing you back against a wall, his lips latching on to your neck, sucking a bruise into your skin “Baby, please—”

He groans against your neck, one hand sliding up under your top, fingers brushing the bare skin of your waist, and you swear you’re about to lose it. “Please what, hmm?”

You bite your lip, trying to stay composed, but you’re way past that now. All you can think about is how much you need him. Right now. Anywhere but here.

“Take me to the truck,” you nearly beg him, just loud enough for him to hear, but you know he catches it because he pulls back just enough to look at you, pupils blown wide.

He smirks, running his thumb over your bottom lip, teasing. “Yeah? You need me that bad?”

You nod, not even caring how desperate you sound. “Please.” Your voice cracks a little on the last word, but you don’t care anymore.

You need him, and you need him now.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀

Forty minute later, the air inside the truck reeks of sex.

You’re breathless, flushed all over, and your legs feel like jelly. Rafe’s next to you, grinning like an idiot already fixing his jeans like he’s not still catching his breath. It’s written all over you—the tousled hair, the smudged lipstick, the way your top is barely hanging on properly as you try to straighten it out, the stickiness you can still feel between your legs, on your panties.

You feel filthy.

You bite back a smile as you adjust your skirt, your body still recovering from the way he had your face pressed against the seat.  

“Shit,” you breathe out, trying to get it together, your fingers fumbling to fix your bra strap, “I feel like my makeup’s a mess.”

He just chuckles, leaning back in his seat with that cocky look that made you want to jump him in the first place, “You look perfect,” he says, eyeing you up and down like he’s ready to go another round.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the heat that rises to your cheeks. “Yeah, well, you look like you just ran a marathon.”

He laughs, reaching over to pull you close, his lips pecking your hair, “Worth it.”

You’re just about to leave the truck when the door opens, and as you both step out, you catch sight of Sophie and her friends walking past. Perfect timing. Of course.

She’s glaring—hard—and her friends are snickering, whispering to each other like they’ve just seen something they shouldn't. Sophie’s nose wrinkles as her gaze flicks between you and Rafe, her expression twisting into disgust like you’re both some kind of wild animals who just rolled around in the mud.

But you? You feel smug.

You meet her stare for a second too long, the corner of your mouth lifting in the tiniest, most satisfied smirk. You know she knows exactly what just happened in that truck, and it’s killing her. She’s practically seething, her friends muttering furiously under their breath as they walk by, noses in the air.

Rafe doesn’t even glances their way—his fingers hook into one of the belt loops of your skirt, tugging you back to him with just enough force to make you stumble slightly into his built chest, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And it is.

“Thirty more minutes,” he murmurs against your cheek, planting a kiss there, casual but so possessive, his lips lingering just long enough to make your stomach shake with butterflies again, "And I'm taking you home."

And that’s what makes it even sweeter.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

safe

words: 1.1k

warnings: home break in (not really described though), drug dealer!rafe and reader, pregnant!reader, husband!rafe

“r-rafe.” your voice is timid and shaky, so unlike what rafe is normally used to hearing. he instantly knows something is off, wrong.

“baby, what is it?” rafe asks into the phone, wishing he could see your face right now, could read the emotion in your expression.

“something uh-something happened. the police are here.”

“shit, are you alright?” rafe is suddenly moving away from the party, needing the noise of music from the live band and people talking and laughing to stop drowning out your words. “is the baby alright? did barry get caught?”

“yeah, we are both fine.” you press your hand against your stomach, the spot your baby always kicks, glad when you feel her stomp against your skin, reminding you she's okay, even if you don't currently feel like you are. “its not the business. there were some um… robbers.”

“what?” rafe shouts, knowing he probably just made you jump over the phone, but he can't help the loud reaction, needing more information, and needing it now.

“yeah they came into the house. i hid in the closet, but they found me. they didn't do anything, just shoved me a bit. they did take a lot of the jewelry you got me, i don't know what else, you'll have to talk to the police and give them a full invento-”

“shit, y/n!” rafe interrupts you. “i don't care about our stuff! i only care about you and the baby. im coming home right now.”

“okay.” you whisper over the phone. “im sitting on the front porch.”

“and police are watching you?” rafe asks, hurrying to his car, not bothering to explain to anyone his sudden leaving as he tears out of the parking lot.

“yeah, they're here. don't worry, im safe. i don't think they even had weapons, at least none that i saw.” rafe can hear you take a shuddering breath, his heart breaking that he wasn't there with you, foot pressing down even harder on the pedal to get him there faster. “the police think they broke in and expected no one to be home because of midsummers.”

you look down, rubbing your hand over your belly. “guess they didn't expect me to be home because none of my heels fit anymore and even the maternity dresses make me look like a whale.” you mean it as a joke, but it has tears flowing down your eyes, wishing you would have just sucked up your insecurities and gone with rafe. you still would have got robbed, but without the trauma of being there during the break in.

“im two minutes, baby. two minutes and you'll be safe in my arms.” rafe tries to keep his voice calm for you, but it's a struggle.

“i… i just wanna be safe.” you mutter the last words of the call, voice breaking as you begin to sob. rafe hears an officer try to calm you, but he knows it won't work, knows the only thing you need is him.

he parks haphazardly behind the police cars, fully blocking the street without a care in the world, not even taking the car keys out as he runs across the yard, sprinting until he reaches you.

“im here.” his arms are finally around your shoulders. “im here.”

you continue to sob, only lessened by pressing your face into rafes chest as he cradles you, even managing to pull you onto his lap despite your protruding baby bump.

“ive got you, princess.” rafe kisses the top of your head, continuing his reassuring words, the police officers giving you some space, but not retreating any farther than the steps leading onto the porch.

“oh my god, i was so scared.” you whine out, managing to blink back your tears enough to look at rafe.

“im so sorry baby.” rafe sighs. “i should have been here.”

“no.” you shake your head. “you had to go to midsummers. it's okay.”

“as soon as you said you weren't coming, i should have canceled it. should have never left my pregnant wife at home alone. im the worst fucking husband.” rafe knows his words aren't comforting, but he needs to make sure you know that he is the one to blame for what happened.

“what?” you press your fingers against rafes cheeks. “you couldn't have known, baby.”

“i still should have been here.” rafe leans in, taking your mouth in a strong kiss. “i love you, baby.”

“oh my god, you're not gonna leave my side for the next year, are you?” you let out a tiny laugh, the noise relieving rafe, loosening some of the tension in his chest.

“definitely not, my love.” rafe pulls you closer.

“thank you for coming so quickly.” you whisper, letting your head rest against rafes chest. “i really am okay. just freaked out.”

“don't worry, baby.” rafes voice suddenly changes tone. “the second they try to sell any of your jewelry, ill find them. they won't make it far at all. ill make sure they can never hurt you or anyone else ever again.”

you know you should tell rafe to let the police handle it, to not get personally involved in clearly dangerous men, but any man who lays their hands on a pregnant woman doesn't deserve to breathe, let alone only be punished to a few months in jail like what would no doubtabley happen if you went the legal way.

“im surprised you haven't called barry already.” you laugh softly, knowing he will be just as pissed as rafe. you came into their life and helped expand the business, turning them from lowly dealers to something bigger, better. still dealing, of course, but offering protection and other services as well.

“figure id let the police leave first.” rafe rubs your back, glad that you're slowly getting back to your jokey and sharp witted self. “before he insisted on being your personal armed guard until those guys are put in the ground.”

“yeah, once baby girl pops, im going to have to ask him to teach me to shoot. just in case anything like this happens again.” you feel bad that you relied so heavily on rafes protection, that you let yourself slack to the point where an emergency arose and you hid in the closet instead of grabbing a glock.

“hey, what about me?” rafe whines, knowing he'd never let another man teach you how to shoot, not even your joint business partner barry.

“fine.” you joke, sighing and sliding off rafes lap. “you better go talk to the police about what else might be missing. i wouldn't let them snoop around.”

you don't keep anything illicit in your house, but just in case you weren't about to give the law open access to your home.

“in a minute.” rafe keeps his arms around you, not willing to let you move too far from his hold. “need to just keep my wife in my arms for a few minutes longer.”

you look out onto the sky, the stars glimmering in the darkness of light, allowing yourself to take a full, deep breath, at peace held in your husband's arms.

taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid

[rc-writes]

𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙨 | 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢

pairings: matt murdock x reader

warnings: reader wears contacts and they bother their eyes for a moment, pet names

a/n: brought to you by an experience that definitely did not happen to me, idk where you got the information that it has. and this totally isn't completely self-indulgent in anyway, why would you say that? also someone please tell me they get the joke with the title lol i spent too long trying to come up with a serious one and could only think of this lol

Hearing you loudly exclaim "Jesus Christ! Ow! Please just stop!" from the bathroom on the other side of the apartment had Matt practically leaping up from his spot on the couch.

When he finally got to the bathroom, after nearly tripping on a pile of loose clothes he didn't sense in his panicked state, he was expecting some sort of intruder attacking you or maybe you had cut yourself. But he sensed neither anyone else nor the smell of blood, but he could instead practically taste the saltiness of the tears that were in your eyes. He could also tell that you were frantically rubbing your eyes and blinking very quickly.

"Hey, hey! Sweetheart, what's wrong?" Matt asked frantically as he walked up to you, a bit hesitant to put his hands on your arms for fear of making whatever was wrong worse.

"It's just my eyes." You say a bit too plainly for someone whose voice was a fraction of a bit too shaky. "I'm fine, it'll go away soon."

"You're eyes?" He asked, deciding it was alright to place his hands on both of your arms. It being more so to ground him in his panicked state than you. "Baby, I don't understand. What is it? What can I do?"

You couldn't help but laugh softly at the endearing way he was so worried about a situation that seemed so mundane to you. "Matt, I'm alright. I promise!" You laughed again, lowering your hands from your face and onto his arms. "Sometimes if I put my contacts in when my eyes are still half asleep, they get a bit upset and fight back."

Matt just about looked at you as if you were explaining rocket science at seven thirty in the morning. 

"That was a terrible explanation, huh?" You laughed upon seeing the more than usual faraway look on his face. "If my eyes aren't used to being open just yet and then I put my contacts in, then they get all funky. It usually takes a few seconds so by the time I have both of them in my eyes they feel like they're burning out of my head."

"And you're saying this so casually?" He let out a breathy laugh that was practically a scoff. He removed his hands from your arms and moved them to your face, his thumbs brushing under your red eyes. "Honey, if your eyes hurt that badly it most definitely is not okay nor normal."

"For someone who has practically crawled back into this apartment with multiple stab wounds at least twice a month and said they were fine, you sure are one to talk about."

"Touche." Matt laughed for real this time. "But seriously, maybe you should make an appointment if this is a normality to you."

For a long moment you just nodded, thinking he was probably right. Well, that was until you remembered something. "Actually, I think I've just been wearing these for too long."

"Huh?"

"These are supposed to be monthly contacts, but I think it's been more like four months since I've changed them..."

"Christ, honey." Matt laughed softly, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he did so. At this point he was practically cradling your head as he leaned to kiss the top of your head. "What am I ever going to do with you?"

You couldn't help but mirror his laugh as you leaned into him. "I suppose I should take these one's out, huh."

He quickly retracted his lips from kissing the top of your head to smile at you. "Yes, most definitely, we can't have you going blind your own self now too. Imagine the talks people would have."

You playfully shoved at his shoulder, shaking your head as you laughed. "If I did you could just teach me that echolocation super skill."

"Echolocation-" He threw his head back laughing. "Honey, I'm not a dolphin."

"You're right," You shrugged, smiling. "Dolphins are cuter than you."

Matt scoffed, dropping his hands from your face, feigning offense. "Now don't be mean, remember you're the one who's managed to wear monthly contacts for four months! He teased back. 

The two of you both broke out in laughter and continued to do so for the next several minutes. Getting the contacts out of your eyes was a difficult process while this was happening. Every time you would go to do so you'd catch the reflection of his lopsided smile and burst out in a fit of laughter again.

Safe to say the two of you were both late to work because of this. Matt getting funny looks from Foggy and Karen when he walked into the office an hour late a bit too cheery. Them fully not believing the innocent story he tried to explain to them over and over again throughout the day. Your boss on the other hand just made a side comment that you probably shouldn't come into work high again.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Omggg I need more Peter Steele smut cause that man is so fine and I feel like he would have the darkest sexiest fantasies ever 😩

A/n: The ending kinda sucks booty cheeks bc I gave up on it don't hurt me

Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Tiddies 🤤

You and Peter, your fiance, had been together for a few years. You were used to the looks you got with him, you were short to most everyone, he was tall to most everyone, by a lot.

He was known to be this big, scary giant of a man with a deep booming voice, but in the sanctity of your own home he was quiet and gentle.

Peter held you while you slept soundly, letting you cuddle up to him with an arm wrapped around you, his other hand trailing down your side. "So beautiful." He murmured, you began to stir but kept your eyes closed and leaned into his touch, not ready to be awake yet.

Peter's hand moved over you, rubbing and squeezing occasionally before finally landing on your stomach. He let out a soft sign and pushed your shirt up, spreading his open palm over your stomach.

"Peter?" You asked, voice soft but hoarse. "What're you doing?" Your mumbled, rolling over into him.

He kissed your forehead and shook his head dismissively. "Nothing to worry about, I was just thinking." He muttered, deep voice rumbling in his chest. He wrapped his long arms around you and pulled you closer, letting you nuzzle into him.

"Thinking about what?" You pushed, smiling softly up at him, still not really awake.

He couldn't just not tell you anything, you'd find out one day or another, it wasn't something he planned on keeping from you. He brought a hand up to your face, cupping your cheek and running his thumb over the plush skin. "Thinking about you... how pretty you are, and... how you'd look carrying my child."

Your cheeks lit up at that, you were definitely awake now. "Peter... we've never talked about kids." You said.

He nodded in agreement. "So we should, I want kids, at least I want to see you with kids."

"We have cats."

"And the kids would love the cats."

"And if they're allergic?" You asked, making him think for a minute.

"Shoot 'em, I don't know." You smacked his chest and rolled over so your back was facing him. He pulled you back, keeping you pressed against him, obviously you weren't pulling away from him. "I'm just kidding." He assured, kissing up the back of your neck.

You let out a soft sigh, watching his hand wander back to your exposed stomach. You held your hand over his, smiling softly at the thought. "Kids..?" You asked again.

Peter nodded against you and kissed closer to your ear. "Our kids... Penelope and Hash." You looked back at him, a look of terror and disgust on your face making him laugh.

"I am not giving you kids with those names, what the fuck." You said with a chuckle.

"Alright, alright... I'll let you pick the names." He rolled his hips into you, you gave a small hum and reached back between the both of you and felt his half-hard cock through his sweats.

"You know what the best part of trying for a kid is?" Peter hummed for you to continue, grinding himself into your palm, hold on your tightening. "Making them~" You purred, pulling your hand away from him and pushing your shorts down.

Peter was quick to help you get undressed, moving to lay between your legs and flipping you onto your stomach while you giggled. "People say there's a higher chance of getting pregnant if you cum first." He said between kisses.

"Does it help if I'm on my stomach?" You asked, looking back at him and holding yourself up on your elbows, watching him get closer to your glistening cunt.

"No idea." He said. "But you're not gonna be on your stomach for the next few months, might as well let you enjoy it while you can." You were gonna say something, joke about not wanting to go through pregnancy, but his tongue was already dipping into you.

You'd never been too fond of this position, when he was fucking you fine, being on your stomach wasn't bad, but when he was eating you out... He never had any complaints, he was also the one putting you like this.

You didn't get much time to think about it as he slid a finger in you, quickly followed by a second as he scissored them in and out of you, curling them deep in you just where he knew you'd like them.

You pushed your face into your pillow, moaning as he finger fucked you, still kissing up and down your thighs, nipping at the sensitive spots.

Peter pulled his fingers from your hole, you whined at the sudden emptiness, clenching helplessly around nothing. Peter sat up and brought his fingers to your mouth, pushing them in and making you taste yourself. "That's just the start, sweetheart."

He adjusted his pants and pulled his hard cock out, all eleven inches hitting your ass with a little slap. You pushed your ass back into him and he rolled his hips against you, a low groan leaving him. "Hurry up." You pleaded when he pulled his fingers from your mouth.

"I'm going, just like taking my time with you." You felt his tip brush through your folds, gathering your juices and using them as lube so he could push into you. He went slow, giving you a break every few seconds to adjust until he bottomed out in you.

You melted into the sheets, relaxing and getting used to the feel of him, knowing in a moment he would pull his hips back and slam into you.

Just as you predicted, he slowly pulled out of you almost all the way before pounding into you, setting a harsh pace. He let you hold your pillow but moved it so your moans weren't muffled, echoing off the walls as he split you in two.

"So loud." He said through grunts, mouth right by your ear. "How're we gonna fuck if we've got little ones running around?" You whined, clawing at the sheets. His hand came down on your ass, the other one holding your hip and keeping you in place. "Answer me."

"I-I don't know..." You mumbled, pushing your ass back again. Peter's hand met your ass again, rubbing the stinging skin afterwards.

He let out a chuckle, a grumbly sound. "We'll kick 'em out." You whined into your pillow, hiding your face. Peter lifted you up a bit, hitting impossibly deeper. You looked down and saw his cock pushing against your stomach.

Soon you'd be all round and swollen with your kid, waddling around with Peter behind you.

[yesimwriting]

thinking about bestfriend!felix who's known for being touchy within his social circle, so when he holds your hand as you walk around campus and leaves giggly kisses against your cheek, your jaw, your neck after a few drinks, you think nothing of it.

especially because it comes up in conversation from time to time. everyone that hangs out with him regularly enough has at least one story: felix smoothed circles against my back until i fell asleep on the bathroom floor after a party; he's kissed the top of my head twice; i've never seen him end a hug first.

and you've seen things--at parties, while studying, while out with friends in general. so you genuinely have no reason to think there's anything strange or different about the way he treats you, and neither does anyone else.

at first.

one night, when you're still new enough to felix and his world that you feel extremely out of place at a party that he invited you to, he calls you over to where he and his friends are sitting. you walk over to them, greeting everyone politely before moving to take the available space next to felix.

he grabs your wrist before you can actually sit. you're confused, but given little time to react. felix mumbles an absentminded, "c'mere" before pulling you towards his lap. it's a little flustering, but you sit, because that's just how felix is.

okay. normal enough. conversation continues. no one thinks twice about it. farleigh thinks it's a bit of overkill, but just assumes it's a combination of alcohol and maybe an attempt at laying the groundwork to hook up with you a little later in the night.

then, someone asks about potential vacation plans over break and farleigh brings up an inside joke from the last trip he and felix went on. it's casual, but it's clear that felix is supposed to say something.

farleigh looks over in time to see felix holding one of your hands to his lips. alright. still not the most egregious display of platonic affec--felix takes his time pressing kisses to each of your knuckles.

it's not just the gesture. it's the way felix watches your reaction through his lashes and the amount of care in his focus. as if you're the only one in the room. there's a patience there that's practically devoted.

maybe farleigh had it wrong. he thought you were just one of those platonic friends that felix would cart around for a few months before getting bored. maybe it's more romantic, or at the very least sexual.

then felix's eyebrows draw together. "you're cold." you start to say that you're fine, but before you can get the words out, felix is holding both of your hands between his.

in the beat that it takes farleigh to recover from the slightly nauseating display, the rest of the group has gone quiet. they're all watching felix dote on you like you're the reason for the moon hanging in the sky. annabel whispers something about the "unsuspecting".

farleigh eventually tries again, directly stating felix's name. he finally looks up, a little confused, as if coming out of a trance. farleigh repeats his earlier comment, finally getting a reaction from felix. the group recovers because while the moment had been almost uncomfortably intimate for something so casual, this is far from the first time felix has started (casually) seeing an 'outsider'.

some time passes and you finish your first drink. when felix notices, he asks if you want another. you tell him that you don't mind getting your own, but felix is insistent. you stand so that he can get up.

a part of you wishes you could have found an excuse to go with him. the gesture, in theory, is nice, but without felix's protection, being left with his friends feels like he's thrown you to the wolves.

annabel, a little tipsy and now curious asks, "so, how long have you and felix..." she trails off with a knowing look.

you kind of get what she's implying, but it feels like too random and too unfitting of an assumption to be accurate. "oh, we've been friends since around right after syllabus week, felix ask--"

"no," she shakes her head, "i mean--" she tries again, this time asking with precise language.

your face grows a few degrees warmer. "oh." the slight laugh that follows the syllable is too genuine for it to be you playing coy. "no, it's not--we're friends."

friends. you genuinely believe it. annabel fixes you with a tight lipped smile that makes something in your stomach knot.

you decide that her question must have been prompted by you sitting on felix's lap. you've also heard enough stories about them to assume that they have an on again off again, sort of thing, and because you really don't want to make an enemy of her, you try to justify it, "that was just--you've known him way longer, he's just like that."

oh my god. he's fooled you. completely convinced you that that's normal. before annabel can really react, felix comes back. he hands you your drink and kisses your cheek before sitting down next to you. he doesn't ask you to go back to where you were sitting before, but he does keep a hand on your knee.

----

some bestfriend!reader concepts ft oliver

another bestfriend! felix blurb :)

bestfriend! felix and reader basically dating

[cod-indulgences]

I had abdominal surgery a wee while ago and I was thinking of the 141 crowding over the nurses and just babying me,don't gotta lift a finger, oh your water needs filling up lemme do that, oh you need to pee lemme help you to the bathroom so the male nurse doesn't see what's THEIRS and ehen you're back home on base/at the flat they're at your beck and call. Gaz buys a bell you can shake foe help as a joke but as soon as the first bell rings you have 4 massive men filing in at attention.

You know price only trusts either him or gaz with bandage changing since they're more gentle handed as to not rip hair, but soap and simon are peering over shoulders saying it either needs to breathe or needs antiseptic etc etc

Im still on bed rest whilst on heavy opioids for pain so yeah! I'd love me a little feel good comfort if you're able to?

TF141 x female!reader, comfort, non graphic medical injury and healing

Hope you're healing up ok anon!

If you didn't hurt so goddamn much you'd feel bad for the nurses. Simon is in full The Ghost mode, glaring from a corner with the skull plate gleaming in the harsh lights, every inch holding violence. It's a miracle he's not in the full tac gear. Two of your nurses are veterans of their craft and don't flinch, and they get his very grudging approval. The one who flutters her hands and asks you in a stage whisper if you're safe (which....great idea, asking someone that when the perceived abuser is right fucking there...) gets booted out the door and you don't see her again.

Funnily enough, he doesn't care about male nurses as much as Kyle and Johnny do, both of them bristling like guard dogs when it's time to check your catheter, move your legs to avoid swelling, test the incisions over your abdomen. You want to swat them for it, but again, you hurt too damn much. Screw this place and their ideas of "morphine doses" and "let's not cause organ failure".

John is the best of them all, at least while you're in the hospital- he makes sure you have support under your back, talks to the doctors and nurses and takes notes, learns when you need physical comfort and when you are so touched out he needs to get the boys out of your hair for a while.

It feels like forever to leave the hospital, even though you know you got out relatively quickly, no complications- and oh, being home is such a relief. Your own familiar walls and floors, a bed you sink comfortably into, and of course four sweet men doing their best to smother you in love.

The bell is just a joke, but the first time you wake up needing to pee and your phone slid out of reach it ends up being perfect- you clang it and Kyle pops his head in, grinning. "Yes, Princess?" He asks, and helps you stand up and shuffle to the toilet.

John does bandage changing, Simon peering over his shoulder and backseat-driving, and you let Johnny carry you to the couch, kissing him as he settles you into a nest of pillows. You get a kiss from everyone else of course, gentle presses of their lips that settle you better than anything.

Simon hesitates, and then shuffles you around, climbing onto the couch behind you to cradle you in his lap. You hiss a little as your stitches pull, and he murmurs a quiet apology. It's alright, his body heat soothes sore muscles, and you let yourself be cradled and cuddled into a nap.

The bell keeps being useful, you can ring it and within moments any or all of them are coming to you, helping you with everything from wound care to fixing a blanket over your lap. You start making a little game of it, asking for Kyle to scratch your nose, or Johnny to rub your feet, but each time they do it so immediately and sincerely that it just swings around to heartwarming.

You're not sure what the hell you did to deserve this, these big-hearted men giving you kisses and care with every gesture, but you'll take every minute of it.

[god-i-hope-so]

Buck receives the call from Tommy's captain himself in the middle of the night, during his shift. He's Tommy's new emergency number, he's also been at the center of a recent discussion with Tommy's captain about it, after years of not having a real emergency number except his closest coworkers.

Buck arrives at the hospital, a little frantic, still in his uniform. He knows it's "not life threatening" but bad enough for Tommy to undergo emergency surgery. Captain Garcia meets him near the lobby, his left hand in a thick bandage, his arm in a sling.

"Firefighter Buckley? Evan Buckley? Captain Garcia. I wish we'd met under different circumstances."

"Captain."

"We were on a fire near the station, the structure collapsed, probably due to a weakness we couldn't see. A rebar went through his thigh, lots of bleeding, but he should be okay."

"Should?"

"I'm not a doctor, son, but I know when a man's dying. And he wasn't."

Captain Garcia is clear and to the point, and Buck appreciates it.

Waiting alone in the lobby of the hospital in the middle of the night wasn't on his plan for this shift. He could have called Maddie but it was 2 am when he got the call. He'll call her later.

Then a woman and two very sleepy young children sit not too far from him. While she settles the kids on the seats next to her, their head on her lap, her eyes land on Buck.

"You're Evan, right?" she asks in a low voice.

Buck is surprised, he doesn't know her, doesn't recognize her face.

"I'm Sophie, er, Dan's wife, Tommy's coworker. They were together when it happened. I know we never met but I've heard of you and Philip- Captain Garcia told me you were already here."

She looks at him with kind eyes behind her tired and worried expression.

"It's- It's nice to meet you, Sophie. I'm sorry, I- I don't-"

"It's alright, I know Tommy is a very private man." She sighs. "He and Dan have been working together for seven years now. Dan has always been the kind to easily befriend people but Tommy was quite the challenge when he was transferred at the station!"

Her smile is genuine. She's picking at her nails, her hands slightly shaking.

"Can I get you something warm to drink?" Buck proposes, already standing up. He needs to move, idly waiting has never been his thing.

"Oh, coffee? Thank you."

"No problem. Anything for them?" he looks at the sleeping children, realizing they're younger than he first thought.

"Water, for later maybe, I don't want to wake them up."

"Of course."

His smile feels stiff on his own face. He shouldn't be here, meeting the wife of Tommy's coworker on the cold plastic seats of the hospital. He should be with his team, sending bad jokes and flirty messages to Tommy who would indulge him.

When he comes back from the vending machine, Sophie is typing on her phone and doesn't see him.

"Here you go," he says softly, not wanting to startle her.

"Thank you." She tastes the coffee, makes a face and sighs. "At least you know the job," she says with a small smile.

"I guess I do. But..."

"I know. It's worse sometimes, because you know what really happens." She lowers her eyes on her coffee cup, swirling the dark liquid in it. Her loose braid slowly comes undone, letting strands frame her face. "Let's meet again around a meal, when our men are better, yes?"

Our men. Buck never thought about Tommy that way, as part of "our men". He nods.

"I'd love that. Thank you, Sophie."

He wonders if that's what if feels to be a "firefighter's wife", to be the partner of a first responder, meeting around unfortunate events and making plans for better days. Sophie shares stories about the station in hushed voice, telling Buck about the people there, the others wives and partners, the children, the parties and the solidarity. Of course, everything sounds very familiar to Buck, but it's like hearing stories from another family.

Then he hears Tommy's name being called and for a second, he feels dizzy. Sophie almost gets up with him then smiles at him. He realizes he didn't ask about Dan, but he'll make sure to stay in touch through Tommy.

The surgeon is in a hurry but takes a few minutes to explain what she did and what will happen next. Tommy will be fine, his leg will recover but the muscle has been badly damaged and it'll take him some time to go back to his daily routine. Even longer before being able to go back to work.

The room is quiet when he enters, safe for a regular and reassuring beep. Buck hesitates a second, seeing Tommy like that feels crushing, even if his sleeping face looks relaxed. His fingers slip into Tommy's hand before gently squeezing it. Feeling his warmth on his palm soothes his nerves.

"Hey, babe."

[lunarduty]

𝙒𝙄𝙎𝙃 𝙄 𝘿𝙄𝘿𝙉'𝙏 𝘾𝘼𝙍𝙀

☾ how the cod men act when they're jealous. 141 + ALEJANDRO + RUDY + GRAVES + FRANK X F!READER TAGS | female reader. WC | 1,449

☾ JOHN PRICE has always felt very secure in himself, his work, and the relationships with those he cares about - that extends to you tenfold. he’s not one to get into a relationship if he doesn’t feel like you won’t or can’t be faithful 100%. and that’s why he never truly gets jealous - because he knows you and he knows you love him and wouldn’t try to mess around. if some muppet tries hitting on you at the pub, he’ll only get involved because he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.

but john isn’t completely immune from jealousy. while he never worries about some other bloke sweeping you off your feet, his jealousy comes through when he feels as if someone else is outshining him. john has a tendency to be distant, and even when he’s beginning to feel that distance, work can pull him even further away. so if he sees you getting your laughs or comfort from someone else, it kinda tugs at his heart. makes him wish he was doing it instead.

☾ GAZ never truly lets things get under his skin if he doesn’t deem them important enough to, and jealousy is one of those things. of course, he likes having all of your attention. but it’s hard to really feel threatened when he’s the one who brought you to the pub, arm over your shoulders, showing you off and giving lots of kisses and doesn’t really give a fuck who sees. cheeky as he is, kyle might even revel in the onlookers who start to feel jealous of him.

and if there’s anything to be jealous about, it’s the bottle that you hold so tightly in your hands and bring to those gorgeous lips. it’s toward the music itself for making you move so slowly and sexily. it’s at the liquor that plasters a grin on your face when gaz can usually do it himself. he does later, rest assured - makes dumb jokes to make you laugh while he runs your hands all over his body for you. and there’s nothing left to be jealous over.

☾ SOAP is a man who’s pretty in touch with his feelings. he knows when he starts feeling jealous, when it starts making him act up, and he always feels bad about it. there’s few people in the world soap trusts more than you - yet, he gets that hot, tight knot in his gut whenever he hears your laughter and he’s not the cause of it. when someone else seems to gain your attention more easily than he can. soap will push it down, try to act nonchalant, like it doesn’t bother him. but it does. other people pick up on it and that just makes it worse.

later on, when he finally gets you to himself, soap is talkative - more than usual. like if he keeps rambling about random topics, it’ll make up for lost time. at least in his mind. you eventually have to slow him down with a kiss, ask if everything is alright. you know soap better than he knows himself - of course you picked up on the shift in his mood. that simple fact helps soothe away the last lickings of jealousy. he still feels stupid about letting himself get like that.

☾ GHOST wouldn’t even realize he was jealous until someone else points it out. he’s usually gruff and stoic and glaring at people so his signs of jealous takes the form of not talking at all. and lots of staring. scowling is probably a better word for it - if looks can kill and all that. he internalizes his own behavior as simple concern over you, or something about the situation just not feeling right. he still memorizes the face of the guy who’s been chatting you up. sticks him all the way to the top of his shit list.

ghost doesn’t really interfere, not unless he feels like he has to (though, he’ll move around the goalposts of when the appropriate time is.) until then, he kinda just sulks by himself. not even soap can muster more than a couple words from him. and you can really feel his jealousy once he’s got you by his side again and he’s barely talking to you and glaring because he’s in a general shit mood. you ask him what’s wrong, and he says it’s nothing. it’s not until later, in private, when he reflects and feels like a total ass.

☾ ALEJANDRO is quite known for his hot temper, but when it comes to jealousy, he becomes more of an opportunist. instead of embarrassing you and himself by acting out on his jealousy, he’ll take the burning feeling and turn it into something useful. this means coming up to you, pulling you against his side, looking directly at the guy who’d been chatting you up, and really laying it on thick. kisses you, touches you, makes sly little comments. might kick it up a notch by saying some lowkey insults at the guy, knowing he wouldn’t do anything but alejandro kinda wishes he would.

he’ll act all innocent if you confront him about it. tell you he just likes showing you off because you’re too fucking cute and he loves you too much. but that act doesn’t hold up for very long because alejandro isn’t great at subtly. he ends up just insulting the guy even more to you by saying he was an idiot and didn’t deserve you and he kinda smelled anyway so why would you ever give him the time of day?

☾ RUDOLFO gets a bit of a Kicked Puppy Vibe whenever he’s jealous. he can be a sensitive person and feels the loss of your presence in his very soul. he really does try to ignore that ugly, twisted feeling inside him whenever the jealous gets especially potent. he wants to enjoy the night with the rest of los vaqueros, but rudy always seems to find you in the crowd. always frowns a little when he finds you enjoying the company of someone else a little too much. always stops himself from going and stealing your attention for himself.

but later on, his affection gets amped up to the max. rudy usually shines under your attention, and tonight is only worse. honestly gets a little clingy for the rest of the night, and seems to feel a little better when you blame it on the alcohol. of course, rudy knows himself well enough to know what he’s doing. feels a little embarrassed by it, so maybe some of his many kisses are his way of subtly apologizing for it.

☾ PHILLIP GRAVES does not get jealous at all. not at all. why should he care if some loser is making you laugh so hard at jokes that aren’t even funny? he only steps in because this guy is so wildly unfunny, and also kinda creepy, that graves is afraid you might just die of boredom. and as you know, phillip’s a heroic guy. as your boyfriend and commander, it’s his job to keep you safe from any and all threats big, or in this guy’s case, very small.

graves couldn’t hide his jealousy to save his own life. he likes to believe he’s smart and cunning and doesn’t let dumb shit get to him - and that’s true for a lot of things. but as soon as you gets you all to himself. he’s got this primal need to pull you close and remind you just who the fuck you belong to. he doesn’t think of it as proving himself, but the marks on your neck say otherwise…

☾ FRANK WOODS gets jealous more often than he’ll admit it. it’s going to be loud and it’s going to be obvious. and he’ll deny it - insist he isn’t the jealous type and he’s got more self-respect than all that. but he’s not nearly as subtle as he tries to be. it’s so easy to catch his gaze from across the room when someone happens to get a little too friendly. he’ll say over and over how he isn’t jealous, and in the same breath, stand between you and the dick talking to you and start throwing out insults.

even if you call him out on it later, frank doesn’t seem to care. in fact, he’ll look damn proud of himself. he’s always had this instinct to protect what’s his. always had this tendency for possessiveness. if he’s in a good mood, he’ll crack a dumb joke about the guy and move on. if not, he might think you were trying to make him jealous. but of course, that would mean admitting he was jealous in the first place.

[skeletonh0e]

oh i saw the ace hcs so i could ask for the boys (platonic) with a lesbian reader who was really obvious they were a lesbian? just short hcs like the ace one hehe

reader: ok fine i’m a homosexual

all sanses gave this a Yeah.

Oh sweet! First platonic ask! So the route I'm assuming this is meant to take was the reader was closeted but like very poorly hiding? Got you!

Fem Reader with she/her pronouns obviously but otherwise no specific indication of gender identity

The Boys & A Lesbian Reader

Classic Sans:

Lesbe honest here, he probably knew the moment he looked at you

Between Undyne and Alphys gaydar is at peak, he knew even before you two were officially friends

He's happy you told him obviously but it's painfully clear this is a non issue for him

Might occasionally help wingman in his own Sans way with the ladies but yeah

You got his support boo

Underswap Sans:

Y/N: "Blue, I'm lesbian."

Blue: "I thought you were human???"

It'll click in a bit once you explain a bit which then it's just an "oooooh I knew that!"

Yeah you ain't slick you might as well have told him you need oxygen to breath

Now, stop thinking about girls and help him with this sick puzzle he's making!

Underfell Sans:

"no fuckin' shit."

Literally anytime he checked out some hot babes you were right there with him

Doesn't take a mind reader

And he probably would have hit on you at least once by now if you weren't cuz again this man is sleazy

Otherwise just expect a lot of "eating out" and pussy related jokes, but they're all in good fun

Underlust Sans:

You like girls? Sweet. He does too

Let's get some lattes and talk about them

He's not gay but he has some gay best friend energy for sure, so he's glad you figured it out but boo what took you so long?

Either way, he's definitely your wingman 100%

With his help you'll be a chick magnet in no time

Horrortale Sans:

Cool.

What do you want for dinner?

Zero fucks given, probably knew for a long ass time but he doesn't give any indication about that

Admittedly even in a platonic sense he's a little protective though

Any girl breaks your heart, let him know alright?

Fresh Sans:

The only one here that didn't figure it out!

He's kind of oblivious to sexuality in general, it applies to everyone really. So after a brief explain

"sweeeeet! wanna go skateboard?"

And that's that

Might get the occasional "is that your girrrrlfrriiiiieeend?" type teasing cuz this man is hella immature

Killer Sans:

"Explains why all your other friends are pussies then huh?"

Smack him he deserves it

Lowkey a toxic friend, why do you like him? Did you expect him to treat this with any form seriousness?

The jokes Classic and Red make are amplified here combined with the preschool teasing Fresh does

Do not let any future girlfriends meet him you will end up loveless

Dust Sans:

Shrugs

Literally has no reaction

Y/N: "You're not surprised?"

Dust: *proceeding to give you the most 'are you fr?' look possible*

But yeah this changes nothing, might get a little protective in a "Don't break my friends heart vein" but less intense than Axe is about it

Nightmare Sans:

Y/N: "I like women and only women."

Nightmare: "And I had sexual relations with Killer."

Y/N: ".....what?"

Nightmare: "Were we not stating the obvious?"

Unclear how serious he's being or if he's one hundred percent messing with you, otherwise just pats your head and goes off about his business