#but if you can get good quality sleep without them then you should

[danielnelsen]

when given the opportunity, my sleep cycle always reverts to being completely nocturnal (around mid-morning to mid/late-afternoon) and a year or two ago i finally decided to try to follow that and it's the first time in more than a decade that i havent had severe, disabling insomnia. ive tried every suggestion to sleep 'normally' and all it's done is make me get 3-5 hours of sleep per night, no matter how tired i am (which is very).

my nocturnal schedule isnt sustainable; not because i dont like it, but because i cant do anything at those times. everyone's constantly on my case insisting that i change it back to 'normal', no matter how much i explain that years of trying that just didnt work. they'd rather i be taking all the sedatives i used to rely on than just sleep naturally. it's always seen as a temporary solution until i can 'sort it out properly'.

i recently started seeing a new psychologist and she's the first person ever in my life to ask if id rather try to change to a 'normal' schedule or if id like to try to adapt my life around being nocturnal. i was so surprised by the question that i wasnt even sure how to answer. i know what i want, but it's so at odds with what everyone else expects that i couldnt give a firm answer. and even then, despite asking the question, she still clearly has a preference and wants me to work on pushing back the time i go to bed.

the limited research ive read on dspd/dsps is that there isnt a 'cure'; sometimes people can maintain a slightly earlier rhythm, but it takes ongoing effort and most people cant sustain it. as someone who's had a terrible sleep quality for more than half my life, i can say definitively that getting a good sleep is so much better for you than sleeping at a 'normal time'. and when your best health outcomes come from not intervening and everyone else just having to deal with it, that's not a disorder, it's just a social expectation.

if only everyone else would just deal with it.

i fucking hate

this is literally just labeling someone’s natural circadian rhythms as disordered.

“may fall asleep later than intended and feel sleepy during the day”

WHAT IF

hear me out

WHAT IF

WE JUST LET PPL LIKE ME W NATURALLY “DELAYED” CIRCADIAN RHYTHMS SLEEP WHEN THEY NATURALLY WANT TO AND STOP FORCING THEM TO CONFORM TO A BULLSHIT CAPITALISM-FUELED NIGHTMARE SCHEDULE!

like!!!!!!!!! WHY is this a DISORDER!!!

i remember during lockdown when i had nothing to do and i just started naturally letting my sleep return to what felt most natural, and that happened to be around 3am-10am ish. and i felt fucking fantastic!!!! i felt the best i’d ever felt!!!!!!

and now i’m back to bullshit trying to knock myself out using nyquil or weed or benadryl so i can wake up at 8am and get to work at 9am which is apparently “late” and i feel like shit all day and can never find the motivation to work on my books!!! during the pandemic i wrote an entire fucking book!!! usually between the hours of 11pm and 3am!!!! and now when i start to feel that itch to write i have to ignore it bc i have to go to bed at a time that feels so unnatural!!!!! fuck!!!!!!!!

i hate everything!!!!!!!!

[helaintoloki]

Can I request something with Five Hargreeves where Five and Lilia gets back to their family after the 7 years (nothing romantic happened between them, just purely platonic), and when he sees the reader for the first time after almost loosing so much hope in seeing her again, he just can’t help but latch onto her and never let go, kissing her all over cause he finally gets to see the love of his life again :,D

a/n: ty for sending in this request anon i really enjoyed writing it <3 this is basically the “good ending” of the subway incident

warnings: fluff, mentions of five and lila but in a platonic way not the bad way

His lungs feel like they’re on fire as Five pushes himself to continue his sprint to your apartment. It’s been seven years without you, and after almost losing hope of ever seeing you again, all he wanted now was to have you in his arms as proof that he truly was back in his own timeline.

He never should have listened to Lila when she insisted on traveling the subway system in search of a solution to the Cleanse, but he had been desperate to find a way to keep you and his family safe no matter the cost. He didn’t mind having to eat subway rats and sleep in flimsily sleeping bags on dirty platforms for your sake, but with no end in sight the entire thing began to seem futile. What good was putting himself through torture if he could never go back home to you?

Thus, when he found the journal that detailed the way back home, Five did not hesitate to jump on the next subway car and return back to his own timeline. He didn’t feel sorry for practically shoving Lila out of the way as soon as the doors opened, and he didn’t waste a second waiting for her to follow before he was booking it out of the station and down the streets to your apartment. While it would have been faster to just jump there, he didn’t want to risk accidentally placing himself right back where he started, and he didn’t have the patience to wait for Lila to find a car and drop him off herself. Seeing you could not wait, and so he ran.

Though Five has experienced seven painful years of being stuck with Lila in the subway, only four hours have passed since you last spoke to him on the phone to discuss your evening plans. He was meant to be at your apartment thirty minutes ago so you could enjoy a lovely dinner at a nice restaurant, and yet here you were sitting painfully board at your kitchen island watching the minutes tick by. You knew he wasn’t exactly keen on eating out when he’d rather stay at home and spend quality time with you, but surely he wouldn’t stoop so low as to miss your date entirely.

“Screw this,” you huff in indigence as you snatch your keys from the counter and grab your previously discarded purse from its spot on the couch. “He’ll just have to meet me there.”

After putting on your coat, you fling the door open only to met with the sight of a breathless Five, his fist raised in the air as if he was about to knock before you beat him to it. He looks completely disheveled with his mussed up hair and wrinkled suit, his eyes blown wide as he swallows down a big gulp of air and takes in your features. You look more beautiful than he ever thought possible, and he can’t believe that he’s really here standing in front of you after being trapped in a time travel hellscape for seven years with his idiot brother’s idiot wife.

“Five?” You utter gently, brows furrowed in confusion and concern as you reach out to place a gentle hand upon his cheek. He’s warm to the touch, most likely a side effect from having sprinted for three blocks, but it worries you nonetheless. He nearly melts into your palm as his eyes flutter shut in contentment at the feel of your skin against his own. He’s missed this, and he’s missed you. “Where have you been, I was just about to leave without you. You okay?”

You jump at his sudden movement when Five practically throws himself into your arms. You lose your footing and tumble back into your apartment, and it takes you a moment to process what’s happening before you tightly return the embrace. You know Five loves you, but he’s never been so forward with affection like this, so his behavior takes you by surprise.

“Sweetheart, I’ve never been better,” he breathes out in relief as he takes in your warmth and your smell and your touch and everything good about you. He never thought he could miss anyone as much as he missed you, and Five swore in that moment he’d never take you for granted again.

“Are you sure you’re really my Five and not a total stranger?” You question teasingly, poking fun at his uncharacteristically tender behavior. While normally you would be met with a biting and sarcastic response in return, you are instead given a passionate kiss as he cups your face in his hands and desperately pulls you closer to him. Your startled gasp is swallowed by his lips as he deepens the kiss and pushes you further into the apartment before shutting the door with his foot.

“Five,” you manage to breathe out after he pulls away for air, your face hot and your mind frazzled as you struggle to comprehend the sequence of events that have just occurred. “Five, we’re going to be late.”

“I couldn’t care less,” he replies with a faint smile, reaching out to carefully tuck your hair behind your ear. “I missed you.”

“Missed me?” You repeat in confusion. “You saw me this morning. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’ll explain everything in time,” he assures you carefully, “but right now I just want to enjoy this moment with you.”

With a faint smile gracing your lips, you know you can’t argue with that. You probably will miss your dinner reservations, but none of that matters as Five pulls you in close and showers you with seven years worth of pent-up affection.

You could really get used to this side of him.

[putellas14]

A Girlfriend for Christmas (Leila Ouahabi x Reader)

"Should I wear this one or this one?" you asked, holding up two dresses for your friend, Leila. Leila was laying on your bed, her phone in her hand, probably texting last night's hookup. 

She glanced up briefly, flicking her eyes over the dresses, before refocusing on her phone. "The blue one," she said. 

"Thank you," you muttered. Dropping the dresses on the bed, you pulled your sweats and shirt off, letting them fall on the ground. You shimmied the blue dress up over your hips and put your arms through the straps. You tapped Leila's foot to get her attention again. "Okay, how does this look?"

Leila looked up again. "Uh." Clearing her throat, she looked back down at her phone. "You look nice. Where are you going?"

"I didn't tell you?" You laughed to yourself. "I'm going to meet the girl I'm hiring to be my girlfriend for Christmas. Well, this will actually be the fourth girl I'm going to meet. Haven't had much success yet." 

"I'm sorry," Leila said, throwing her phone on the bed next to her and sitting up straighter, "what are you talking about?"

"I'm hiring a girlfriend."

"Why?"

"Because I can't spend another Christmas listening to my entire family ask me endless questions about my love life." 

"Why didn't you just ask me to come with you?" she asked. 

"I couldn't do that. They all know you. They'd never believe it." 

"Why not?"

"Well," you thought for a second, "you're my friend."

"Friends date all the time. We could be friends who date,” she said, matter of factly. 

“Be real, Leila. I need this to work. You’ve always been very anti-relationship. No one is going to believe that we’re together.” 

Leila rolled off the bed and moved to stand in front of you. She was standing so close your lips were nearly touching. She lifted her hand, caressing your cheek with the back of her fingers, letting her fingers slowly, tortuously, slide down your neck. 

You felt an incredible sense of deja vu before remembering you’d been in this position before. Once. In a dream. A few months after meeting Leila. And you had berated the crush out of yourself back then. 

When you involuntarily leaned into her, she patted your cheek and stepped back. “See? We can make people believe we’re into each other.”  

“Right.” You cleared your throat and brought yourself back to reality. This reality. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Plus, this girl is already waiting for me, so it’d be rude to turn her down without at least going to meet her.” 

“Okay.” Leila settled back in your bed with her phone.

“What’re you doing? I’m leaving.” 

“And I’ll be here waiting to hear all the deets when you get back. I have to know everything. You know your brother is going to call me as soon as you walk through the door with this girl. Be weird if I don’t know anything about her.” 

“Fine. Make yourself useful and feed Dot while I’m out then,” you said, referring to your old sweet black cat who only enjoyed interacting with you or Leila. 

The bar you’d chosen to meet at was just a block away from you. But somehow you were still late getting there. She was already sitting at a table in the corner, her blonde hair flowed like a halo in the dim spotlight. She was even more beautiful than in her photographs. 

And that turned out to be her best quality. She was a complete bore. She could barely hold a conversation, stumbling her way through most sentences, and never saying anything of substance. Your family would give you a bigger headache for showing up with her than if you just went home alone. 

She wasn’t going to work. At all. 

After two drinks, you politely ended the night, thanking her for her willingness to help but gently turning her down. You paid for her drinks to make up for turning her down. 

“So?” Leila asks, as soon as you walk in. She had migrated from your bed to your couch. Dot was curled up next to her, sleeping. 

“Remind me never to have ideas again. She was so boring. My family would hate her.” 

“You know who they love?” she asked, a cheeky grin on her face. 

You nearly shut her down again. But she was right. Your family did love Leila. She was their favorite of all your friends. Maybe it would be hard to convince them you were dating but at least they wouldn’t give you a hard time about picking a person who didn’t fit. 

“On one condition,” you heard yourself say. 

“Name it.” 

“No kissing on my lips.” 

“But how will we convince them then?” she asked, raising a single perfect eyebrow.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Ouahabi.” You crossed the living room, heading for your bed. “We leave at 8am tomorrow,” you called over your shoulder. “Don’t be late.” 

You had already bought the second train ticket, and it was simple enough to get the passenger’s name changed at the train station the next morning. The three of you (you, Leila, and Dot) settled in for the long ride down to Oxford. You dozed on and off, as was typical for you. At one point you woke to find yourself leaning on Leila’s shoulder. You apologized and sat straighter. She had just smiled in response and returned to her book. Dot slept peacefully in her carrier through the entire ride.

Your dad was waiting for you at the station, and he greeted you both with a huge hug before loading your bags into the car. You’d grown up there, both your parents being local primary school teachers. Your brother, James, had followed in their footsteps but was currently working towards his PhD so he could teach at university.

On the car ride home, you listened to Leila and your dad catch up with each other. Your family truly did enjoy Leila’s presence, which always warmed your heart. Thankfully, it seemed as though he had forgotten your text message letting them know you’d be coming home with your girlfriend for Christmas. God bless your dad and his forgetful nature. You were suddenly nervous about this whole ruse. 

As if Leila could sense it, likely from how quiet you were the entire ride, as your dad turned onto their road, she reached over and squeezed your hand. 

“Breathe,” she mouthed. 

And you did. Taking a few slow, deep breaths. It would be fine, you told yourself. This would all be fine. It was just a couple days. 

You could see your mom’s eyes get misty from the front door when she recognized Leila next to you. Clearly, she had not forgotten you were bringing home your “girlfriend.” 

She came down to the car so she could hug you tight as soon as you got out. “Hi, sweetie! How was the train?” 

“Hi, mom. Can’t. Breathe,” you managed. 

“Oh whoops.” She stepped back, loosening her grip on you and moving over to Leila. “Hello, Leila dear! Welcome!” She gave Leila as tight a hug as she gave you. “I think we have some catching up to do,” she said, looking over at me. Putting her arm around Leila’s shoulders, she guided her into the home. Leila looked over her shoulder at you as she went into the house and the panic on her face immediately calmed you down and brought pure amusement to you as you unloaded the bags and brought them into the house. You set down Dot's carrier by the front door and let her out. She immediately beelined for the sofa, her favorite place in this house.

From the front door, you caught a glimpse of the huge Christmas tree in the family room. There must have been at least a hundred ornaments hanging from the branches. Your mom (it was mom who loved Christmas the most) had garlands and decorations covering every available surface. She had always made home feel like something out of a winter Christmas fever dream. You loved it. It had always made you love Christmas so much. 

You wandered over to the Christmas tree, letting your eyes roam over all the ornaments and bows and lights. You had a small Christmas tree at the apartment in Manchester, but it was nothing like this. This was at least nine feet tall, nearly hitting the ceiling. It was plump and full and not at all like your artificial pre-lit tree. And it smelled absolutely glorious, straight out of a forest. 

You kept walking through, taking in all the little details. You could hear them all talking in the kitchen and slowly made your way back there, stopping to give Dot a few scratches behind the ears.

“Y/N!” Leila said, when you walked in. She reached out towards you, her eyes wide, and grabbed your forearm to bring you closer to her. “Perfect timing. Your parents were just asking when we started dating.” And now the wide-eyed look made much more sense. 

She was scared of them. 

Maybe this idea wasn’t so bad, after all, if it meant a few days of watching Leila squirm. 

“Oh. You didn’t want to tell them?” you asked, smirking. You leaned against the counter next to her. 

“I thought you might want to do that.” 

“Er right.” She looped a finger in your belt loop and dragged you closer to her, letting her arm rest around your waist. Even though this was fake, and you were both affectionate with each other, the move caused something to stir deep in your stomach. Swallowing the lump that was growing in your throat, you said, “Leila finally got off her ass and asked me out about three months ago.” 

“Three months!” your mom exploded. “Three months, she says, like it’s nothing.” Clearly, she was going to give you a pass on swearing given her fixation on your answer.  

“We didn’t want to tell you until we’d had time to give it a chance,” Leila answered, giving you a small smile.  

“Well, honey, we’re so glad you finally asked Y/n/N out. This means I win the bet,” she said in her husband’s direction. 

“What bet?” you asked. 

Before either could respond, the front door opened and you heard your brother yell out, “I’m here! Let’s get the eggnog flowing!” You move out of Leila’s grasp and run out into the front hall to give him a hug. It had been a couple months since you’d seen each other. Football season was always hard. 

“Hey kid, how you are doing?” James asked. 

No matter how old you got, James always called you kid. It had started as an insult when you were his annoying little sister and had morphed into a term of endearment as you’d gotten older. 

“I’m great. Merry Christmas.” 

“Leila? What the heck are you doing here?” he asked, spotting her over your shoulder. When he sidestepped you to give her a hug, you saw the huge grin on his face. You watched them embrace each other before he stepped back and put her in a headlock. It was like they had grown up as siblings, you thought with a shake of your head. 

"I told you I was bringing my girlfriend home for Christmas," you said, nonchalantly. Maybe too nonchalantly, by the look of shock on his face as his eyes met yours. He looked between you and Leila, still holding her in a headlock. "Can you let her go before you accidentally strangle her?" I reached out for Leila's hand as his arms slid limply from her neck. She linked her fingers with yours and allowed you to tug her over to you. "James, Leila is my girlfriend." 

"What do you mean?" he asked dumbly. 

"I know mom and dad explained how this works," you shot back. 

"But when? How? I mean, why?"

"Why? Well, I mean, look at her." You pressed a kiss to her cheek, feeling the heat flood her face under your lips. "And we were just answering those same questions for mom and dad. Three months ago. And she asked me out."

"Three months? That's like, that's so long ago!" 

"And now you're going to tell me what you know about this bet mom was just starting to say she won." 

"Uh. Nothing." He picked up his backpack again and started to walk away. "I know nothing." 

"Liar!" you yelled at his back. You looked down at your hand, fingers still tangled with Leila's. As you started to smile to yourself, you looked up at her face. She was standing still, no real expression on her face. "What?" No answer. You shook her hand, trying to get her attention. "Earth to Leila. Are you okay?" 

She shook her head and looked at you, seeming to be coming out of whatever had occupied her mind. "I'm great. Your mom said something about hot chocolate, let's go get some." She dropped your hand, walking back towards the kitchen. 

Your mom always went all out on the hot chocolate. There was whipped cream and marshmallows and little Christmas themed sprinkles and, of course, alcohol. A whole assortment of alcohol was now sitting on the counter, waiting for each person to take their pick. Per usual, you took vanilla vodka. She'd also set out some sandwiches. Once everyone was settled around the small kitchen table, you brought the conversation back to the bet.

"How much do you win in this bet, mom?"

"What bet?" dad asked, feigning innocence.

"The bet mom gleefully said she won after finding out how long I've been dating Leila."

The three of them at least had the humility to look sheepishly at each other before mom answered, "Fifty quid."

"And what did the rest of you bet?"

"That you'd eventually ask Leila out," your dad answered.

"That you'd die alone," James answered. Your dad slapped him over the back of his head. "Ouch."

"Be nice," your mom warned. He got up to top off his mug with whiskey and she reminded him that Mass was starting soon.

Shoot. You had forgotten to tell Leila that you'd be going to Christmas Eve Mass. "I have an outfit you can borrow, if you need," you whispered.

"Thanks," she whispered, covering it with her mug.

"So, girls," your dad said, "we know that Y/N's bedroom is a little small for the both of you." Oh, god, where was this going? "Mom and I talked about it, and we'd be okay if you both stayed in the guestroom, if you'd prefer."

You could tell this was as awkward for him as it was for you. Your room only had a single bed and although you had snuck girlfriends in and slept on that single bed with them, you weren't intending to share that bed tonight. You were temporarily taken aback by the offer because you assumed your parents would force you to sleep in separate rooms.

Leila reached over, squeezing your hand. "Y/N and I talked about it as well. And we're both quite comfortable being split up. Thank you very much for offering, though."

"Just so you know, there's a creaky board between the guest room and Y/N's room," James said. "I'll hear you if you sneak over."

Your dad hit him over the back of the head again. "Shut it, James." He turned back to you. "We want to make sure you're both comfortable."

"Thanks, dad," you said quietly. Leila squeezed your hand again and you looked over at her. She was giving you a soft smile. Of course, she knew how you were feeling. Overwhelmed and loved. You'd spent years in the closet, worried about upsetting everyone. It was easier to lean into the side of you that was attracted to men back then. To now have your parents be so welcoming to your "girlfriend" choked you up.

You were suddenly really glad you'd brought Leila along to play this role. It was somehow easier with someone you already knew. Having a total stranger sitting next to you right now would have made you feel really lonely.

Before you could dig too far into your feelings, your mom clapped her hands and said it was time to go get ready. Looking at the clock, you were shocked to find it was already so late. You took Leila up to your room first, so that she could see what options you had. No surprise to you, she took the only outfit with pants.

"What?" she asked when she saw you giggling in her direction. "My jacket will match it."

"I'm sure that's the reason." You picked one of the dresses up and held it up in front of you. Looking in the mirror, you checked to see if it would be long enough. Hmm, maybe not. You picked up another, checking for the same thing. Good enough. You pulled off your sweater to change and Leila stopped you.

"Whoa whoa whoa, what're you doing?" she asked, slapping her hand over her eyes.

"What? I changed in front of you last night. And I change in front of you all the time!"

"Yeah, but not in your parents' house." She turned away. Keeping her eyes closed, she reached her arm out and started feeling around, bumping into multiple items in your room.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm looking for the door."

"Then open your eyes!"

"No!"

"Ugh. Fine." You walked towards her. She was only a few inches off. Because of the way your furniture was set up, you had to angle your body sideways next to her to reach the knob. You could feel your chest pressed into her arm and held your breath, so your chest wouldn't move at all. God, you felt stupid. "The door is open," you muttered, stepping back. She fled as quickly as she could, keeping her eyes closed until she was in the hallway. Shaking your head, you closed the door again. You were half naked, after all.

You quickly got ready and went down to wait for everyone. The five of you squeezed into your dad's tiny ancient Renault for the short drive over to your local church. Your parents liked to attend Mass on important days of the year. Your brother had become more involved in the church as you'd gotten older, and he regularly attended Sunday Mass. You, on the other hand, had a more complicated relationship with religion. The church was a source of community, but it had also been a source of stress as a young queer kid. You were always still afraid walking through those doors that something negative was coming your way.

As if Leila could sense your apprehension, she closed her hand over yours as you walked in. It helped you feel more grounded. You went to Mass every year for your family but that had never made it easier. You had also never told them how you felt, only that you didn't connect with organized religion. But Leila knew. Leila knew everything about you. And she understood, without any additional words, what was going on in your mind at that moment. She kept your hand in her throughout most of the service, at some points drawing random patterns with her thumb.

The way she kept reading your mood today should have made you uncomfortable, but it just made you really glad to have her here. Although your family's consistent pestering of your love life was uncomfortable and annoying, it really wasn't anything compared to how lonely it made you feel. Their questions always reminded you that you were completely alone.

And Leila seemed to be on a mission to prove to you that you weren't alone.

The four of you had a quiet dinner in town at one of your favorite restaurants before heading home. It had been an early morning for you, and you said good night soon after you got home. Leila opted to stay up and hang out with James a while longer. And to your displeasure, Dot decided to stay curled on Leila's lap rather than coming up to bed with you. Leila and James both laughed when you pouted. Annoyed at them ganging up on you, you bent down to give Dot a kiss on the head and ignored them both.

As you walked away, you heard James say, "Ooo you're in trouble." You heard Leila respond but were too far away at that point to hear what she said. You were far more exhausted than you realized. Sleep took you as soon as your head hit the pillow, preventing you from overthinking what she could have said in response.

The next morning, you quickly showered, knowing Christmas day had a way of getting chaotic fast. You headed downstairs and found your parents cuddled on the couch, their cups of tea teetering precariously on the cushions next to them.

"Merry Christmas!" you said.

"Good morning. Merry Christmas, honey," your mom said.

"Merry Christmas!" your dad said at the same time.

"Do either of you want more tea?" you asked, pointing at their mugs. They both shook their heads, so you went to make your cup. While the water boiled, you took the moment to enjoy the quiet morning. You stared out the window, watching the birds fly from roof to roof. It was softly snowing outside, adding to the feeling of calm. The kettle started whistling, prompting you to remove it from the heat.

"Think I could get one of those too?" Leila asked from the doorway, startling you. You hadn't even heard her come in. You pulled another cup down and filled it. You put the kettle down and leaned against the counter to wait for the tea to steep. "Merry Christmas," she said quietly, remaining on the other side of the kitchen.

"Merry Christmas." You crossed your arms across your chest. "How'd you sleep?"

"Great. James and I stayed up pretty late and Dot kept me company after that."

"Not used to sleeping alone, Ouahabi?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, the amusement clear in your voice. Leila, on the other hand, scowled at you instead of laughing with you. "I meant that as a joke," you said sheepishly when she didn't respond. Feeling awkward, you checked the teas. The color looked okay, so you picked one up and handed it to Leila, leaving the other on the counter. "Milk?" Sometimes she took milk, sometimes she didn't. She shook her head. You poured a small amount into your cup and returned the carton to the fridge.

"What's the plan for the day?"

"Dad and I usually go for a walk, if you want to come. We'll leave from Gran's around 10:30 and we'll stay there until evening. We usually have like a late lunch type of deal there."

"Okay." She glanced at the clock on the wall. "How long is your walk? I'll have to shower before we go."

"Should be plenty of time. You should come. Get some fresh air before we're shut in with my relatives the rest of the day." You made a face at her, hoping to get a laugh out of her. When she at least smiled at you, you considered it a win. "Want to sit down?" you asked, gesturing towards where your parents were. She nodded and followed behind you.

"Good morning, Leila honey," your mom said. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," she said. She sat cross-legged on the floor, cradling her cup between her hands. The four of you sat quietly, listening to the crackle of the fire in the corner. Dot strolled in midway through your cup and nuzzled her face into your arm. You lifted your arm, letting her cuddle into your side. She collapsed against the side of your leg, and you let your hand gently rest on her back. "I guess she missed you after all," Leila said.

You smiled down at Dot, slowly moving your fingers against her fur. "Guess she did." You went back to silence, enjoying the addition of Dot's loud purring to the fireplace. "Oh, dad, Leila's going to come for a walk with us."

"Alright, great. Looks a little cold out there, so don't forget your coats, girls."

"Should we leave in about 10 minutes?" you asked. They both nodded in agreement. Your mom protested by snuggling further back into him.

"15 minutes," he said.

"Sure," you said with a big grin. Your parents had set too good of an example of what a relationship should be. They both genuinely enjoyed the company of the other. They worked together well as partners. They respected each other. They loved each other so fiercely. And nothing had changed after thirty years. If anything, their relationship was even better now. You let your eyes get a little misty, before turning your eyes downward to hide it from the room. If you had been looking anywhere else, you would have seen that you hadn't hidden anything from Leila.

The three of you set out twenty minutes later (your mom had protested again when dad tried to get up). It was still softly snowing, causing all of you to draw your hoods. It made it nearly impossible to hear anyone, which left the three of you walking in silence. You were glad for this walk. You knew the rest of the day would be loud and chaotic and stressful. This walk allowed you to hold onto the quiet of Christmas morning for as long as possible.

By the time you returned home, you were freezing cold, and a thin film of snow was stuck to the fur-lining of your hood. Leila laughed as some of it fell on your face. She removed her glove and lifted her hand to brush away the rest of it before it could fall on you. The heat rose to your cheeks, and you tried to tell yourself it was due to the blast of heat that had greeted you when you walked into the house.

While everyone showered and prepared last-minute gifts, you closed yourself in your room to hold onto those last few final moments alone. You had brought a red dress and tights for the day. The dress tucked in at your waist before flowing down to your mid-thigh. It was one of your favorite dresses, but you didn't often wear it because you thought the red was too bright for most occasions. Deciding to go forth with the boldness you were feeling, you painted your lips a deep red as well and carefully applied a thick layer of mascara.

"Y/N, come on!" James yelled. "It's time to go! What're you doing?"

Shocked, you looked at the clock next to your bed. You had no idea where the time had gone but you gave yourself one last look in the mirror, grabbed your coat and heels, and ran downstairs. "Sorry sorry. I wasn't watching the time." You sat down on the bottom of the steps to buckle your heels. "Okay, I'm ready."

"You look," Leila said when you stood. She let her eyes wander down you and back up to your face. "You look beautiful."

James hit her arm."Ew, dude. That's my sister."

"What?" she asked, hitting him back. "I've got eyes. Plus, she's my girlfriend. I'm allowed to, no I'm supposed to, compliment her and make her feel good!"

"She's right," your dad interrupted. "You should take notes, James, in case you ever convince anyone to date you."

"Ouch," he said, rubbing his chest.

"Alright, the lot of you," your mom said, "into the car. Let's go."

You sat quietly on the drive to Gran's while Leila and your parents talked about an upcoming trip to Morocco. You could tell Leila was in the zone. She loved talking about Morocco and giving recommendations to people who had never been there before.

There was almost no parking near her home, and you ended up having to walk quite a way in your heels, balancing the pot your mom had shoved into your hands. At one point, you had nearly slipped but Leila caught you around the waist with one hand and steadied the pot with her other hand. She kept her arm around you for the rest of the walk, making sure you stayed upright.

The rest of your family was already in the house, and they excitedly welcomed Leila in. Leila had been to family events and had met most people in the past. Your gran was probably more excited than your mom had been when you went over to say hello to her and introduce Leila as your girlfriend. She gripped both your and Leila's hand in her lap and cried, telling you both she had never seen such a beautiful couple and she was so happy to have Leila officially in the family. She was so emotional that you started getting choked up as well. When she let you both go, you leaned over and gave her an extra kiss on the cheek.

"Can I get you anything, Granny?"

"No, dear. Go have fun," she said, patting your hand.

"You want a drink?" you asked Leila. She nodded and offered her hand. You placed your hand in hers and pulled her behind you into the kitchen. Uncle Mark made the booziest egg nog every year. But there was also an assortment of other drinks your cousins had presumably brought. "Egg nog?" Leila nodded. You filled two cups and handed one to her.

"Going right in for the strong stuff?" Uncle Mark asked from the doorway.

"Always. You remember Leila, right?" He nodded. "She's my girlfriend now," you said with a smile.

"That's awesome. Well welcome. Today will be the real test of if you can put up with this family," he said with a deep belly laugh.

"Oh my god, stop," you mumbled into your cup.

"I'm just kidding. Kind of," he mumbled. "Anyways, Luke's upstairs. He's been waiting for you to get here."

Your youngest cousin, Luke, loved football almost as much as you did. It's his dream to follow in your footsteps and play professionally. He came to as many of your matches as his parents would allow him to. Leila went to mingle while you went up to find him. You found him in the spare room watching old plays on his phone.

"Y/N! Hi!" He jumped off the bed to hug you, nearly knocking his head against your chin. "When'd you get here?"

"Hi, bud. We just got here a few minutes ago. What're you watching?" That question unleashed something in him, and he explained how he was watching clips from MLS in America, and he was trying to analyze whether he agreed with the calls made or not. He had read online that the refs in MLS were some of the worst in the world and he wanted to decide for himself whether he agreed with that or not. So far, he agreed. After about twenty minutes of letting him walk you through every play and the calls, you asked him if he remembered your friend, Leila Ouahabi. He nodded, his cheeks suddenly turning pink.

"She's really pretty," he whispered.

"I agree," you whispered back. "She's downstairs if you want to go say hi." His eyes got wide. "Go say hi. I'm sure she'd love to talk about football with you." He grabbed your hand and pulled you along behind him.

You caught Leila's eyes from the top of the stairs, and you pointed, trying to tell her he was coming down for her. For the next twenty minutes, Leila got a full recap of what you had just heard upstairs. She kept asking him follow-up questions and you could tell he got even more excited every time she interrupted him. At some point you wandered away to refill your egg nog and talk to some other people.

As the afternoon wore on, you made your way around the room, spending time with each of your family members. You made sure to keep an eye on Leila and to periodically relieve her from any uncomfortable conversations. It was during one of these that it happened. Your brother and Uncle Mark had their grips in her, grilling her about her intentions with me. You had caught a snippet of it as you passed and abruptly halted, slipping your hand around her waist.

"That's probably enough of that for today, don't you think?" you asked them, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I don't think so," James said. You saw his eyes flicker up briefly but didn't think anything of it.

"We need to know what's happening, kid," Uncle Mark said.

"We'll tell you when there's something to know," you assured him.

"It seems you've found yourself fallen victim to Gran's mistletoe this year," your aunt said from the couch, just loud enough for everyone to hear. "Have to give her a kiss, Leila. Granny's house, Granny's rules."

"Oh. Um, no, we're good, Aunt Lydia," you said.

"Rules are rules," Gran yelled, banging the tip of her cane against the floor.

"Rules are rules," Leila said. In a whisper, she added, "Come on, just one kiss and they'll leave us alone." She turned into you, the arm around her waist involuntarily dropping a little lower. She moved your hair behind your shoulders with the tips of her fingers. "Sorry for breaking your rule," she said. Cupping your face in her hands, she laid a small kiss on your lips.

"A real kiss for couples!" Gran yelled out. "You're young and in love. Anyone can see that. But right now, you look like cousins saying hello."

"Gran," you grumbled.

"Can't disappoint her," Leila said. 

She brought your face close to her again, stopping when you were a hair’s breadth away. “Sorry for really breaking your rule,” she said. When you sucked in a deep breath, she closed her lips over yours. Your brain short circuited and your fingers reflexively dug into her waist. You ordered yourself to kiss her back. Couldn't have your family thinking you were shocked when your girlfriend kissed you. Her lips were unimaginably soft. When she touched her tongue to your lower lip, your heart dropped into your stomach.

As your hand came up to cup her cheek and bring her closer, she stepped back. Her face was flushed, and her lips were now tinged red from your lipstick. You reached your hand towards her to wipe it off, but her hand moved faster.

"Now that was much better," Gran said. "Good job, James."

You and Leila snapped your heads towards James. "James?" you growled. Normally it was Uncle Mark who helped Gran set up the house for Christmas and hid the mistletoe.

"James?" Leila asked, echoing you. But she sounded more hurt than anything. You looked back at her. She looked to be on the verge of tears.

"Leila, it's just a tradition," he tried to explain. He reached out towards her, and she backed away.

Confused by what was happening, you kept an arm around her for support. "Let's get a drink," you whispered to her.

"Yeah, anyone would need to cool down after that," one of your cousins yelled. You flipped him off as you led her away into the kitchen.

You grabbed two glasses and indicated towards the punch. She nodded. As you filled the cups, you said, "I'm sorry about that. I should've warned you about Granny's antics."

"It's alright, Y/N, I'm not upset about it."

You handed her one of the cups. "Are you sure?"

"Yup. Everything's fine." She sipped her punch, avoiding eye contact.

You didn't believe a word. That kiss had been fire, and you didn't think you were the only one still feeling it. You didn't feel "fine" and you were certain by Leila's reaction to James that something was wrong. "Okay, well. Um." Why did you feel awkward? "We can hide out in here for a few minutes but I'm sure someone else will be coming along soon to interrupt this momentary quiet space they've given us."

The two of you stood there in silence, sipping your drinks. You had never been at a loss for words with Leila before. You spent a lot of time in silence with each other, just hanging out, but it was never because either of you didn't know what to say.

Your thought was interrupted by Luke, wanting to ask Leila a question. She gave you a little smile. Lifting your hand, she pressed a little kiss to it before leaving with him to answer his questions.

You frowned down at your hand. There was a dull ache in your chest after that momentary glimpse of what it could be. That kiss had shifted something in you. Something you had buried a long time ago. You had tried so hard to suppress your feelings towards Leila. Pretending to be her girlfriend had to be one of your stupider ideas. Well, agreeing to pretend to be her girlfriend. Pretending at all was Leila's idea. You could curse her for that. 

For the rest of the afternoon, you tried to calm yourself down and remind yourself it was only until tomorrow. A few days of pretending and then you'd go back to being friends. In a few weeks, you'd call your parents and tell them it hadn't worked out. Maybe the pressure of being on the same team would cause a falling out. It wouldn't be the first time your football career had caused a problem in your dating life. You'd probably text your brother and he'd come to Manchester to take you out for a pint. He'd threaten to hurt Leila for hurting you and you'd calm him down and reassure him that it was you who had ended it. And by the next holiday, they would barely remember that you had brought home Leila this year. Your mom would barely remember saying "aw" every time you shared something cute about your "relationship." Your dad would barely remember bonding with Leila over his new power tools. And James would barely remember joking with Leila around the dinner table. 

Who were you kidding? Your family loved Leila almost more than you. They might never forgive you for "breaking up" with her.

You tried to engage in conversations with your family members and enjoy the holiday. But your eyes kept drifting back to Leila. And every time that happened, you grew a little sadder that this fake relationship was almost over.

During dinner, Leila sat down next to you. You ordered yourself to act happy and to not be awkward. You gave her smiles and casually touched her, as any couple would do. But you barely tasted your food. It went down like cement.

After dinner, your mom shooed everyone into the living room, saying that you and her would clean up. You worked in comfortable silence emptying food into containers while she washed the dishes. When you finished your task, you set to drying dishes so she'd have space for the steady stream of dishes she was still washing. 

"How are you doing? Really?" she asked. 

"I'm doing fine." 

"You just seem a little down is all."

Maybe you weren't fooling anyone after all. "I'm okay. Just a lot on my mind." This lie felt worse than the little lies you'd told all day. In the past, you would have talked to your mom if you were crushing on someone or you were struggling with someone. But you couldn't this time. Because if you did, they would all know that you were a liar. And that Leila had helped you lie to them. 

It was all feeling like too much. 

"It's just football stuff. Nothing to worry about." At least you were setting some context for your future break up story. 

"Okay," she said, not sounding at all convinced. After a few silent moments, she said, "I know we put a lot of pressure on you, but you can always talk to us. If you want."

"I know, mom. It's just football stuff," you said again. Thankfully, she let it go and you two continued to work in silence after that.

When you finished, you went to the living room to ask if anyone wanted tea. Everyone was now sitting around the fireplace, quietly talking. A few hands shot up. You quickly counted off how many you needed and went to the kitchen to boil the water. You arranged the cup and saucers on one of Gran's Christmas-themed trays.

As you took the tray around the room, you noticed both James and Leila were missing. You asked your dad if he'd seen them. He said they had gone out for a walk after dinner and hadn't come back yet. You glanced up at the clock. You'd finished dinner almost an hour ago. Looking out the window, you could see that it was still snowing outside. Frowning, you sat down next to him to sip your tea and wait for them while Simon read A Christmas Carol aloud.

They didn't come back for another half hour. Leila's eyes looked red, from the cold or from crying you couldn't tell. You raised your eyebrow at James, and he just smiled at you. He whispered something to Leila and then disappeared into the kitchen. She looked at you for a moment before coming to sit on the floor near you. You could feel her shivering and pulled the throw off the sofa to give her.

"Thank you." She took it and wrapped it tight around her.

"Why were you gone so long?" you whispered, still leaning down towards her.

"We were just talking."

"You okay?"

"Just tired. But I'm okay," she reassured. She squeezed your calf and gave you a half smile. "Ah, my prince," she said, lifting her hands when James walked in with two teacups.

"Anything for you, sis," he said with a wink. He sat down across from her on the floor, leaning back against the opposite sofa. The remainder of the evening, you kept catching them give each other looks. It was like they were having their own conversation, all without words, and all without anyone's input. You couldn't see Leila's face, but you could see her shoulders move every so often and see her shake her head.

Simon finished reading a little after 9pm. Everyone started moving, cleaning up the living room so Gran wouldn't be left with any mess. It took only 10 minutes with everyone's help. The end of A Christmas Carol always signaled the end of the night.

"Good night," you said, leaning over to give Gran a kiss on the cheek.

"Oh, good night, sweetheart. Thank you for bringing your sweet girlfriend for Christmas."

"I know she enjoyed being here too." You gave her one more hug, but she tightened her arm around your neck before you could stand up.

"Don't let her go. She's a special girl."

You couldn't say anything, tears caught in your throat. Instead, you smiled at her and nodded as you stood up straight.

The drive home felt endless, squished between your brother and Leila. Your earlier sadness at this charade ending tomorrow had morphed into desperation for it to end. When you got to the house, you helped unload the car before quickly saying good night and escaping to your room. You scooped up Dot on your way up. You needed the comfort of your pet tonight. Hot tears burned your eyes and soaked your pillow for the guilt of having put your family through this. Why had you ever thought this was the answer? Why had you ever agreed to let Leila come here? Dot snuggled into your side, and you kissed the top of her head, glad she wasn't protesting not being allowed to sleep in another room.

You don't know what time you eventually went to bed, but you know you were still crying when sleep took you.

In the morning, you quietly packed your bags before going down. The train was not until 11am. Your mom had promised to make a nice breakfast before you left. Figuring you should help with that, you dressed quickly and went downstairs.

"Good morning," your dad greeted. He was coming in from outside, shaking snow off his boots.

"Good morning, dad." You walked through to the kitchen. "Hi, mom."

"Ah you're up. Good morning." She stood at the counter, cutting onions.

"What can I help with?"

"Actually, do you mind going out to the garden? Leila asked me to have you come out when you woke up. She's been out there a while now."

"Oh. Um, okay." You didn't think you were prepared for this just yet. But they were both looking at you, waiting for you to move. "Right. Okay, I'll just grab my coat." You took your time getting your coat and shoes on.

You found her sitting on the garden wall. She looked really cold. The tip of her nose was red. She was frantically rubbing her hands together. "Leila?" She looked up at you. "Maybe we should talk inside? It'll be warmer."

"No. No, I don’t want anyone to hear this conversation."

"Okay." You stayed where you were, not sure if she wanted you to sit down or even move closer. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I've been thinking."

"I can see that."

"Just let me finish. I won't be able to finish if you talk in the middle." She nervously rubbed her hands over her thighs. "I don't have perfect words. I'm not really like poetic or whatever."

"What-"

"No. Wait. Look, these last couple days have been great. But I didn't think they would affect me as much as they have."

"What-"

"Shut up." She looked up at you. "I need to tell you that I'm yours. Have been for a while, if I'm being completely honest. I don't know if you want me. But I belong to you. I'm yours, if you want me."

You stood there, unmoving, staring at her, your jaw slack in astonishment. Your breath was coming out in little streams of fog.

"Now you're going to stand mute? You're stolen my heart, Y/N, the least you can do is tell me what you intend to do with it."

You'd never believed that hearts actually skipped a beat in moments like these but there was no other way to describe what was happening in your chest. Taking a few large steps towards her, you grabbed her lapel to bring her face closer to yours and kissed her. Your grip on her softened as she slowly stood, never breaking contact with you. Your hands moved up her neck so you could wrap your arms around her.

"Okay I'll take that as a response," she said, her eyes still closed.

Giggling, you kissed her again.

"Hmm. Yes. I'll definitely take that." She opened her eyes to look at you, her arms staying around your waist. "Do you. Um. Wait, will you be my real girlfriend?"

"I think I could manage that." You smiled brightly, playing with the hair on the back of her neck. "What're we going to tell my parents?"

"I think they already know," she said, pointing over your shoulder at the house. You turned to see the three of them squeezed together to see out the tiny side window. Your dad awkwardly waived while your brother just grinned, and your mom wiped a tear from her eye.

"How did they?"

"James figured it out the first night."

"Of course he did." You turned back to her. "Let's go inside, you're freezing." You took her hand in yours and pulled her towards the front of the house. This time when you walked in the door, you went as real girlfriends, instead of fake girlfriends. Your heart was at the fullest it had been in years.

Your mom was still crying as she rushed towards both of you, pulling you both into a hug. "Oh, my sweet girls!" She kissed the side of both of your heads. "I'm just so so happy for both of you."

"Thanks, mom," you said, hugging her back.

"Go, get warm," she said, stepping back and wiping more tears from her eyes. "Breakfast will be ready soon."

You took her to the living room, to the couch in front of the fire. Sitting down, you pulled her down with you and covered her with a blanket. The chill hadn't yet hit your bones, like it had Leila. You wrapped your arms around her to hold her close and transfer as much of your heat to her as you could.

"What're we going to tell the girls on Monday?" she asked.

"We'll just be honest."

"That I pretended to be your fake girlfriend because I thought it'd be the closet I got to being your real girlfriend and then your idiot brother played antics to actually make it real?"

"Maybe we can leave a few things out." She shivered again and you brought the blanket up more tightly around her. "How long were you out there?"

"Like an hour."

"Leila!"

"Girls, breakfast is ready," your dad called out.

When Leila stood up, you took off your jumper and gave it to her. "Wear this. It'll help." She pulled it over her head, and you straightened it when it got caught in her long sleeve shirt.

"Thanks."

Your mom had put together a full English breakfast. It wasn't typical that she made it all at once but during the holidays, especially on travel days, she liked to make sure everyone had enough food in their bellies. As everyone ate, you looked around the table. There was laughter and talking over each other. There was love and friendship. There was everything you'd ever wanted at this table. You'd never felt incomplete but somehow in this moment, you felt whole. Nothing really made sense to you either.

"Does this mean mom still wins the bet?" your dad asked.

"You can split it," you answered. "Just as long as James loses," you added with a huge smile.

"Hey, you would've ended up alone if I hadn't meddled," he said.

"Oh great. Now he's going to have a big head about that."

"You'll be too busy in your little love bubble to even notice how big my head is about to get," he retorted.

"Are they fighting or saying nice things?" Leila asked your mom.

"A little of both."

James ended up paying both your parents ��50, although mom insisted she had won because Leila had asked to be your fake girlfriend and had been the first to say how she felt. But dad wasn't having it.

They dropped you at the train station, promising to come watch a match and visit soon. The train ride to Manchester was similar to the ride home for Christmas. Leila read while you and Dot slept. Except this time, she lifted the arm rest between you and opened her arm to let you more comfortably sleep on her shoulder. You slept peacefully all the way home to Manchester, cuddled into her side.

[rose-maidenn]

🌬PAC : Your most appealing sensual qualities :-

Pile 1 :

Hii loves how are you doing?

For you I get that you know exactly how to make a person wait for something be it , your attention, your favours or your time , I get the word void for you , staying with you puts people in a state or rest or in a new world it's like you surround them with maya , it's so beautiful, be it is case of friendships or relationships you show people how worthy you are , ik nowadays how people admire nonchalance but most have got it all wrong , your way is beautiful you know how to read the room and gives them the exact amount of attention .

The way you brush your hairs in the middle of the conversation from your face is very attractive , people see your hair for hair inspo btw it's very voluminous and shiny , you remind me of the old celtic women with wavy hair, such beauty .

Moreover people really like when you wear clothes showing your waist and the way you move is very attractive it's hypnotic even , I won't be shocked if you said you learn dance because girl you're attracting the attention damn .

You're one of those people who attract attention without saying much and that is so so rare and you embody rare how stunning are youuu!!!!!!

Pile 2 :

Heyyy ,how's everything going ?

Your eyes damn those eyes , you know that they kill and you use them well angel . Your hands are very observed by other people the movement of your hands , your nails , I will not be shocked if you said you learnt mudras or reiki . I think you can easily read people's energy just by touching them. Wanna know something honey you need to be really careful about the things you say because you easily manifest . I wish all the good comes to you.

Your diction and hold on various languages and accent is very admired , the way you pronounce and the certain raspy tone to your voice is very sensual to most people it's like you're luring them in . Your anger Is so admired by many people because there's a way you fight for the causes the passion is seen in your actions and that is so attractive .

People are in awe of your thinghs I'm not even kidding , they imagine sleeping on them , they would like to see you in a sexy garter belt like damn , your skin is super shiny as well , random but I remembered coco oil by victoria's secret , maybe you should try that , your soft skin is adored by many people .

You have a luminous glow to yourself like the moon , I can't describe well but it's beautiful you're like a old Hollywood glamour queen , damn your auraaaaaa!!!!!!

Thank you so much for reading🫶✨️ , dm me if you wanna book with me 🎀 kiss kiss ♥️

[innerfare]

Smutty Captain Kid Headcanons - Part 1 

Summary: A collection of NSFW headcanons for Eustass Kid

Genre: Smut

CW: oral sex, threesomes, cuckolding, exhibitionism, dirty talk, mean dom Kid, toys, piercings, spanking

———

Man is a f-r-e-a-k. 

Seriously high libido. He’s hard more often than he’s not. If you’re going to be fucking him, you’re going to be logging some real overtime. And he’s serious about getting off, too. Turns into an absolute fiend if he has blue balls, takes it out on the entire crew. Everyone knows when the captain didn’t get off the night before. Basically can’t function without a blowjob.  

Loves a good challenge. All about the chase.

Went through a phase where he wasn’t interested in sleeping with women unless he could get two at a time. His face and cock buried in pussy is his perfect night. Would happily drown in the pussy if he could. 

Definitely enjoys cuckolding other men. Is the definition of a bull. But while he likes bedding a woman behind her boyfriend or husband’s back, he prefers to make them watch. If the boyfriend/husband is a marine or government bureaucrat, it’s even better.

Has definitely had his dick sucked by marines before, both male and female. Has joked about his wanted poster being a nude.

Never shuts up in bed. It’s a running commentary, him goading, teasing, and bullying you. Tells you to stop being such a crybaby when he’s fucking you. “You told me you could take it, so you’re gonna fucking take it.” “What’s wrong? Embarrassed by how wet you are? Because you should be.” “Of course it’s too big, but you’ll cum on it anyway.” Definitely calls you his dumb little fuck bunny. Can be really mean when he makes you cum. And just when it’s about too much, he says something nice. “You have the cutest pussy.” “You taste so sweet.” “You’re such a good girl.” When he’s saying mean things, he’ll sometimes stroke your cheek with his thumb or place sweet kisses on your body. 

If you do end up in a relationship with this man, you might just live to regret it because all of his attention is going to be on you. And that’s a lot. 

Gives you a pair of metal bracelets. Dumbly, you think they’re just a sweet gift (Kid? Giving a sweet gift?) so you put them on without a second thought. Next thing you know, the bracelets are stuck to a wall, you can’t get them off, and Kid is ripping your clothes off like a little kid opening a birthday present. Is so proud of himself for this one, too. As much as you complain, you never take the bracelets off after that. Killer figures out pretty quickly why you now wear a metal band on each wrist, and sometimes an extra set around your ankles; gets drunk one night and confides in you that he’s a little jealous; when you ask him if he’s jealous of you or Kid in this scenario, he says, “both.”  

Has had so many threesomes with Killer he's lost count. The two have an agreement to always share when asked (one veto per year). Dating Kid basically means being in a throuple with Killer, and fucking Kid definitely means getting fucked by Killer. Killer is even allowed to fuck you without Kid present (but you have to tell Kid about it or else he gets jealous).

Has definitely written his name in lipstick on your tits before.

Really into toys. Has tied you up and left you with a vibrator between your legs several times. 

Used his devil fruit power to shoot needles through your nipples, piercing them the way he’d always wanted. Has bought you a variety of pretty nipple rings since then- a pair with several opals dangling from each end, a pair of black shields, cute butterfly barbells with amethyst wings, a pair with onyx coffins on the ends. His favorite pair are the ones with little ruby cherries; he pretended they were cheap but he actually spent a fortune on them (the rubies are pigeon blood, very high quality) because he just couldn’t pass them up. Actually came in his pants the first time he saw them poking through your thin shirt, forbade you from going braless after that. One of his favorite things in the world is putting new rings in, to the point he forbids you from switching them on your own. Loves to use his devil fruit power to tug on them when he’s fucking you.  

Speaking of rules, he has quite a few, mostly because he gets very jealous. In addition to no going braless, you can’t wear your hair off the ship in pigtails (every time you do, a man in town hits on you and Kid just has to fight him), you can’t eat ice cream in public, and if you want to wear that one top- the skintight plaid one with cutouts- you have to pay the blowjob tax (Kid really enjoys cumming in the boob cutout). If you break the rules, you won’t be able to sit for a week. You often break the rules. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[earthtooz]

x : MORE :*+ﾟ

in which: rin's not happy with your decision to sleep on the couch.

warnings: cliché lol, 1.1k, hurt/comfort, gn!reader, unedited + ooc!rin towards the end, a lot of metaphors but hey one cliché leads to another.

a/n: this is practice for me to a) get back into writing and b) remind u guys that i am still writing luls, enjoy!! reblogs r vv appreciated, but this quality is actually so ass.

“are you sure you want to sleep out here tonight?” rin’s voice asks from the hallway entrance, slight concern laced in his tone as he watches your backside set up on the couch, fidgeting with the pillows and blankets.

“yeah, i’m positive,” you answer, not turning around to look at him; something rin frowns at. 

“oh…” he mutters, leaning awkwardly on the wall as he scours his brain to try and find something to say. “really?”

“yes, really.”

“won’t you be uncomfortable?”

“i’ll be fine. it’s not that bad here.”

“if you’re sure.”

silence cuts the conversation with a cold knife, leaving the two of you in the suffocating quiet, one that stops rin from instigating further conversation despite how badly he wanted to continue. because if he shuts up then that means he has to leave, but he doesn’t want to leave you alone. he wants you to come to bed so the two of you can sleep peacefully together and not (what feels like) eons apart where he can’t hold you.

“are you going to go to bed? it’s getting late,” you ask, no hint of hostility at all in your tone as you shuffle under the covers, disappearing from rin’s view completely. 

he bites the inside of his cheek, disheartened at your eagerness to see him go. “oh, right. goodnight.”

he lingers for a second longer, waiting for a ‘goodnight’ back, or even better, an ‘i love you’, but neither comes and rin feels his chest contract. 

rin didn’t mean for the argument to escalate, he didn’t mean to sharpen his words and pierce you with them, he didn’t mean to hurt you to the point that you didn’t want to sleep beside him.

as he slowly makes his way to your shared bedroom, your absence on your side of the bed hits him even harder. it’s cold. it’s empty. it’s void. rin loathes it.

you’re not faring much better, replaying the argument in your head over and over again as the small, coffee table lamp illuminates the room with a warm yellow. each replay of the memory just twists the knife further and causes a new batch of tears to wet your eyes. 

you hate this. you hate feeling weary around rin, you hate feeling like you need to walk on egg shells around him from now on, you hate feeling like he doesn’t value you the same way you do with him, you hate these new revelations coming to your brain as you reflect on your relationship-

“you’re still awake?” a voice comes from the hallway.

leaning up onto your elbows, you blink in shock at the new figure making itself known. thanks to the lamp, you can see rin from where he stands, and you can see the confusion in his eyes.

“uh… yeah,” you say.

“why are you still up?”

“i was thinking. why are you still up?”

“i…” rin hesitates for a second, “i wanted to check up on you.”

your heart flutters at his shy confession. “i’m fine, thank you.”

“you sure?”

“yeah.”

“why, are you not fine?”

no, he’s not. he wants you to come back to bed, he wants you to reassure him that the two of you will still be okay, he wants you.

“no,” lies rin. “i’m okay.”

the soccer player regrets his words instantly. 

“that’s good. i’m gonna sleep now and you should too, you have a big day tomorrow.”

but rin can’t sleep. not without you beside him because otherwise, the bed is too vacant and too chilly and reminds him of the life he used to live too much.

and he’s scared that he’ll have to go back to living like that if you’re not there beside him, petrified that you’ll leave in the middle of the night because you’ve realised that he doesn’t deserve someone as good as you. 

instead of confessing that, the dark-haired merely sighs, the words lodging themselves in his throat. “okay. i’m off.”

you reach over to turn off the lamp, engulfing the room in darkness with a single click. “goodnight, rin.”

“i love you,” rin confesses, but it’s too quiet and too breathy for you to hear, so there’s no response. he hopes you know.

so, he retreats back into the barren wasteland that is your shared bedroom. he misses you. he reaches over to your side in hopes of being to feel some remnants of comfort.

30 minutes later, rin wakes again after weaving in and out of consciousness and he’s sick of it. it’s 1:10am and he only has five hours until he needs to get up. decisively, he throws the cover off of him and makes his way to the living room, intent on this trip being his last one. 

it’s dark in the living room and rin can’t find it in him to turn on a light and disturb your slumber, so after adjusting to the dark and mindlessly patting around, he eventually threads his arms underneath you. he lifts you up so effortlessly, driven by determination and love as he walks to familiar path back to your shared bedroom.

he settles you down gently and the last thing rin remembers before drifting off is the warming feeling of content as he pulls you into his arms. 

the following morning, you rouse to the sound of a blaring alarm; the one rin always uses because otherwise gentle alarms won’t coax him successfully. your lover shuffles beside you, shutting the clock off with a groan before wrapping an arm around you again, pulling you into his warmth.

wait.

you raise yourself up onto your elbows, dazed and confused. weren’t you meant to be on the couch?

“don’t go,” rin murmurs, snaking his arm up to wrap your shoulders instead, gently guiding you down to the mattress, “sleep.”

“how did i get here?” you ask and rin stiffens before pulling you in to his chest. “rin, i’m being serious.”

“you were always here.”

“don’t lie to me.”

“i’m not lying, so let’s sleep.”

you’re sick of his shit. “itoshi rin, i swear to-”

“i carried you back here, now shut up. i only have 10 minutes before i have to get up and get ready.” 

“i think i’ll go back to the couch, actually,” you say jokingly.

“not funny.”

“i think it’s plenty funny.”

he frowns, wrapping himself around you even tighter. you don’t hug him back, but you’re here and that’s all that matters to rin. you didn’t leave like he thought you would. 

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, “for last night. i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“it’s okay, rin, we can talk about it later.” 

“we’re okay right?” 

“of course.”

“you… you won’t leave. right?”

“i would never. why would you think i would?” 

“just being stupid, i guess.”

“better you than me.”

he huffs, letting the conversation die to silence.

you speak up again, “i love you.” 

rin feels a weight lift off his shoulders. he can breathe again.

“i love you more.” 

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[lunaviee]

ushijima headcanons bc bro needs more appreciation 🤗🤗💗💗💗💗 (and bc im rewatching haikyuu and im actually going INSANE.)

i feel like he kinda gained a habit of reaching for your hand a lot. idk why but he’ll stare at it for a minute and then just grab it wordlessly

1000% the kind of guy to get you “just because” flowers. i think he’ll see them at a local market and then make it his life’s mission to make you a pretty bouquet

he’s actually really good at cooking. he enjoys it, especially when he sees the glow in your eyes when you try his food

enjoys taking the scenic route when you guys take a drive somewhere. not only does he find the landscape beautiful, but it gives him more time to talk or even just be in your presence

speaking of driving, he definitely does that move where he puts his hand on your headrest when he’s backing out🤗🙏

i feel like he can read you really well. like if you’re uncomfortable somewhere or maybe just not feeling well, he tries to get you out of that situation

actually kinda going back to the hand thing, he rlly likes your touch. it’s so warm against his skin and he feels so at ease with you around

i feel like he’s very academically smart, his grades are impeccable and he’s always helping you in your classes. but social/street smarts? yeah umm not so much. it takes a little while to adjust at the beginning of your relationship but you soon find how well of a match you are for each other

back to the “reads you well” part, he also remembers everything about you. your order at your local coffee shop, why you don’t like certain foods, and will never forget a special date

he also likes spending money on you, insisting you buy that new shade of lip tint even if it looks just like the one at home, because with him around, you shouldn’t have to worry about a single penny

this one’s kinda silly but i just KNOW he’s the type of mf to bring in all the groceries in one trip

always sends you “good morning” and “goodnight” texts. but since it’s ushijima, it’s kinda like “goodnight, sleep well❤️” a little basic but trust me, he’s much better at showing his love in person

speaking of, his love language is definitely acts of service and probably quality time. whatever he can do to make your day a little better, he’ll do it

he takes such good candid pictures of you it’s actually insane. you genuinely don’t know how he even takes these without you noticing but somehow they’re always amazing

also, he doesn’t like deleting pictures of you. something about it doesn’t feel right to him so he’ll have a handful of pics that have your face all blurry or cropped out, but it’s still you so why should he delete it??

pls i just know his embrace is so secure and warm….. like you’ll ask for a hug and even if he doesn’t always understand how of why his physical touch makes you feel so special but he never declines

i know this is cliche, but he’s obviously strong af so picking you up is no problem and he’ll often do it if you get tired of walking. he also insists you sit on his back while he does pushups. his words not mine🤞🤞

cat lover. like one day you two went to a pet store to buy some treats for moms dog and he makes eye contact with a gray cat.

you guys forgot about the treats and ended up buying a bunch of cat stuff

✮ — haikyuu might bring back my motivation to write….

[obitos-whore]

Naruto men taking care of their s/o when they're sick

I'm currently dealing with a cold and really shitty stomach problems, probably due to food poisoning. So, I present you this. Apologies if it's not good or your faves aren't in it. Also, shout-out to everyone who's currently sick. We're in this together and we'll get through it.

(Includes: Obito, Gaara, Shisui, Itachi and Kakashi)

Tw: Mention of sickness, throwing up and medicine

────────────────────────────────────

Obito

He was woken up by the sound retching coming from the bathroom

After noticing that you weren't in bed, he immediately went to check on you in the bathroom, calling out your name softly to make his presence known and to not startle you

When another wave of nausea washes over you, he kneels down beside you and gently rubs your back in circular motions

"It's okay, love. It's okay. Let it out, I'm here for you."

Once you're done regurgitating your dinner, he hands you some water to rinse your mouth with

And in case you accidentally made a mess, don't worry, Obito will reassure you with a kiss on the top of your head and a soft "Don't worry, honey, I got this" and clean it up while you brush your teeth

When everything is nice and clean again, he will help you back to your shared bedroom and offer to make you some tea and prepare a hot water bottle for your upset tummy

Since he knows how draining and strenuous throwing up can be, Obito makes sure you're nice and comfy, with a bucket in reach and a box of tissues to wipe your mouth and tears with, before heading to the kitchen to prepare that tea and hot water bottle

Back in bed, he will hold you tight and cuddle you, peppering your head with affectionate kisses and whispering words of encouragement

Gaara

He noticed something was up when he came back home and you weren't there to greet him like you always do

After a quick search, he found you laying in bed, wrapped in two blankets and shivering, teeth practically clattering

His protective instincts kicked in immediately at the sight of you and without wasting any time, Gaara began to tend to you, pushing aside his own fatigue

He checked your temperature, fluffed up your pillows, turned up the heat in the room and brought you an extra blanket. He even gave you one of his sweaters for extra warmth and comfort

"Don't worry my little desert flower, I'm going to take care of you."

Gaara practically raids the medicine cabinet and insists that you take some of everything

Despite his usually stoic and calm demeanor, Gaara tends to turn into a bit of a helicopter parent partner when it comes to you. (And he's not ashamed of it)

He also doesn't care that he might get sick as well by being so close to you. He just wants to be there for you and nurse you back to health like a good spouse should. Plus, he can handle a bit of a runny nose and some coughing

Shisui

It was actually him who got you sick in the first place

He insisted that he could take care of himself and that you should stay away until he was no longer infectious. But you didn't listen and that's how you two ended up being sick together

Feeling guilty, Shisui tries to make it up by tending to you to his best of ability. Which sounds as strenuous and tedious as it actually is, with each of you insisting that the other should rest and let them do all the work

To no one's surprise, neither of you actually gets much done and instead spends the majority of the day sleeping

Your diet for that time consists of mostly medicine and teas and some instant ramen. Maybe some fruits or home cooked meals if someone was so kind to bring you some

Despite both of you feeling like absolute ass, you do appreciate the chance to spend some 'quality' time together. Even if that mostly consists of coughing up a lung and trumpeting like a herd of elephants while blowing your noses

Regardless of which of you is the worst off, Shisui will be the one to go to the pharmacy and the grocery store to get medicine, food and a few other things, such as flowers, a "Get well soon" card, a cute little plushie and your favourite snacks

The poor guy is being eaten alive by guilt and his unwavering love for you is what gives him the strength to actually leave the bed and function somehow. Even if it's for your sake only. So you better appreciate his efforts

Itachi

Itachi had come over to your place, to spend the few days he had off with you

Wanting to surprise you, he used the spare key you gave him to access the apartment and prepare a cute little dinner date a la stay at home. That was, until he heard noises coming from the bathroom

He decided to investigate and that's when he found you, hung over the toilet, hair and clothes a total mess and face almost as white as the toilet you were hugging

His previous plans now forgotten, he dutifully takes it upon himself to care for you, starting with comforting you and carefully getting you back to bed once your stomach has been emptied

Knowing that tea, warmth and bed rest are the best way to soothe an upset stomach, Itachi doesn't shy away from becoming your personal nurse/butler during that time

He will make you homemade ginger tea, cook easily digestible meals for you, prepare as many hot water bottles as you need and want and even take care of the chores around the apartment without you even having to ask him to

And on top of that, he still takes the time to cuddle with you and rub your stomach to alleviate the pain and discomfort you're in

He'd even request to have a few more days off, in case you're not feeling better by the time he has to be back on duty

Kakashi

When you and Kakashi met up for one of your rare dates, the silver haired Jonin immediately noticed your ailing state and advised you to take it easy

He even offered to reschedule your date so that you could take the time to rest. But after you stubbornly insisted that you were fine, he eventually gave in, albeit reluctantly

The next day, he decided to pay you a brief visit and check on you

Of course, he wasn't surprised when he saw your pale face sheepishly peeking out from behind the blanket as you tried to stifle a cough

"So much for "I'm fine", huh?"

Pretends to be smug and smart-assy about being right and takes the opportunity to gently scold you for being stubborn and reckless with your health. Look, he cares a lot about you but doesn't know how to say or show it properly, so he acts like an all-knowing, wannabe doctor to get the message across

Signs himself up for the role of your caretaker, because obviously you suck at doing it yourself and he is the only responsible adult here. Basically the pinnacle of self-care. Lol

Expect to be served healthy, home cooked meals and lots of fresh vegetables and fruits to help boost that immune system of yours and get you back to health

May or may not coax you to take your medication by promising you extra cuddles and affection

[h0neylevi]

c/w: sort of hurt/comfort i guess??, modern au, fluff

If there is one thing Levi doesn’t do, it’s hover.

People like Hange had always been better at comforting others. Or Erwin, with his knack for always saying the right thing. They were always the first to come to someone’s side as a shoulder to cry on or a willing ear. Interfering with that system seemed like a bad idea, particularly since Levi was neither good at comforting people or always saying the right thing.

So he feels completely out of his element when you walk through the front door and make a beeline for the bedroom without so much as a hello.

At first, he thinks that maybe he’s just missed your greeting over the sound of washing dishes. That maybe you are eager to get changed into something comfortable after a long day of work and would join him in the kitchen.

But when a few minutes turns into fifteen and you haven’t shown up, he starts to wonder where you’ve gone. The shower isn’t running–that much he can tell when he shuts off the faucet–and there’s a distinct lack of movement that he’s come to recognize as the sound of your footsteps.

The entire apartment is so quiet that even the shuffle of his feet on the way to the bedroom feels too loud. 

When he finds you, you’re curled onto your side in the dark, facing away from the door. If he didn’t know you so well, he’d assume you were asleep. But your shoulders are tense, and a small, almost imperceptible twitch in them tells him that you’ve heard his approach.

But he doesn’t cross the threshold, torn between concern and the realization that you likely would have called for him if you wanted his company. He thinks of what Hange might do (barge in and fawn at your side) and immediately dismisses it. He’ll have to think of something else.

So he waits in the open doorway, staring at the back of your head like it might give him the answer to his problem. Would you want him to sit at your side? Pull you close? Should he ask what’s bothering you or distract you? 

Okay, so maybe he hovers a little.

Failing to come up with a solution, he finally asks, “Everything okay?”

You roll over slowly to face him like your limbs are made of lead.

“Yeah.” Your voice is thin and lifeless. Strike two. “M’just tired.”

In the dim light from the hall, he can see that you’re still in your day clothes, but at least you’ve had the decency to remove your shoes before climbing into bed.

Still, something about it irks him. You don’t ever lie around in regular clothes.

“Do you want me to get you something to sleep in?”

For a moment, he’s graced with a small upward curve of your mouth but it isn’t mirrored in your eyes. “No, it’s okay.”

You don’t ask him to stay or go, so he struggles with which to do. If it were anyone else, it wouldn’t be such an issue, but the absence of your usual bright and bubbly self is concerning.

Maybe you want him to make the decision.

He pushes off of the door frame. “I’ll be right back.”

He returns to the kitchen with an idea.

When he was a kid and he wasn’t feeling well, his mom would always make a casserole. It was cheap and quick—not necessarily the highest quality meal—but he’s come to associate the dish with comfort. So he does what he can in lieu of words and gets to work. Knowing your eating habits, you’re likely starving and either too worried about inconveniencing him to admit it or haven’t realized yet just how long it's been since your last meal.

It doesn’t take long before he’s returning to the bedroom carrying two hot mugs of tea.

You haven’t moved from your spot on the bed, but your clothes have been discarded in favor of a hoodie he wore earlier. He can see the pile of your things on the floor, and while he feels the urge to huff at the mess, he keeps the comment to himself just this once. You can (and likely will) get it in the morning.

“Are we stealing clothes now?” he asks, walking over to place one of the mugs on your bedside table.

Another barely-there grin curls over the corners of your mouth. “What’s yours is mine.”

“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes,” he replies, “It’s ‘what’s mine is yours’.”

“That’s what I just said.”

You don’t shift or say anything else as he returns to his side. At least not until he’s sat his own mug down and climbed into bed.

You watch him as if surprised. “What are you doing?”

He turns toward you. “Laying with you.” There’s a beat before he asks, “Is that okay?”

Instead of saying anything, you nod and he settles in, close but not quite touching you. Giving you space if you need it, but an opportunity to get closer if you want it.

Eventually, the desire to be close to him seems to override everything else.

Levi waits as you get closer, allowing you to get comfortable against his side before closing an arm around your back. You form together like two snug puzzle pieces. 

Once you’re settled, you sigh like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders, and Levi smiles to himself.

It’s nice. Levi allows the silence to continue, busying himself with a gentle massage to your scalp with his fingertips, and the only noise in the room is the slow sound of your breathing.

But eventually, he has to speak.

“Are you hungry?”

You think about it for a moment before replying, “I think?”

Levi stretches as far as your position will allow to glance at the clock. “Well, dinner is in the oven. It’ll be done in about twenty minutes.”

That gives you some time to decide at least.

You squeeze his torso slightly, a silent thank you he thinks, and he responds with a squeeze of his own around your shoulders.

You laugh lightly and burrow your face into his chest. Already he can feel your limbs beginning to relax a bit more. There’s more energy to your tone when you insist, “Just a few more minutes. I don’t want to move.”

His fingers return to the slow massaging motion to your scalp. Maybe he’ll ask you about it over dinner, but for now he’s content to wait however long you need.

“Take your time.”

[localboobsenjoyer]

You were finally on vacation with your new fiance, Denise. You were resting at the poolside when she reached you, topless. "No top today?" You asked, ogling her perfect massive breasts. "All my bras were already pretty tight when we left, and since we are here, I grew a full size, so none of them fit anymore." "That's unfortunate," you said sarcastically. "I know that it must be super fucking hard for you to marry the girl with the best boobs on the planet. You will be happy to know that I'm already bigger than my grandma and just one size smaller than my mother while being far younger, so I should overtake her soon." Having said that, she lied down next to you, and, after giving her new and improved boobs a nice squeeze, you went back to sleep. After some time, you were awakened by another resident of the hotel. It was an extremely beautiful lady, extremely tall, and with a perfect face and full lips. The only problem was her complete and absolute lack of boobs, a dealbreaker for you.

Before you could ask her anything, she brazingly states, "Hello, sir, I'm here to steal you from your girlfriend. I believe to have all the necessary qualities to take the life of pleasure that you can offer for me." You and Denise almost burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, lady, you are definitely an attractive woman, but as you can see, I like my girls with some heavy, fat tits," you said, playing with Denise's ample bosom. "That won't be a problem." Said the girl with an evil twinkle in her eyes.

As soon as she finished saying those words, you could feel Denise's breast shrinking, dissolving into your hands. At the same time, the misterous girl's breasts exploded in size, obliterating the tiny, useless bikini that she was wearing. "What about now?" "Fine by me," you replied. "Sorry, honey, you remember the premarital agreement: if I find boobs bigger than yours, it can leave you without legal consequences."

Denise was desperate. Her whole world had been destroyed. Despite that crying, she tried to respond. "I still have my great genetics, and I'm still growing. I can get back to where I was in no time and surpass this bitch." "Unfortunatly, no sweaty. Your family genes are too valuable to be wasted on you, so I stole those too." "I think this settles it. Sorry, Denise, you had a good run but you lost. Nothing personal. What did you say your name was?" you asked your new girlfriend. "Does it matter?" she responded flirtatiously. "You're right, let's go try your new boobs."

[one-piece-aus]

What would marriage life would be like with the seven warlords?

This is an old anon request, I do apologize for not getting to it sooner but here we go

What Marriage Life Would Be Like With the Seven Warlords (Headcanons)

It's pretty chill being married to Mihawk

Y'all just vibe in a mansion on an isolated island

I imagine Mihawk is a person of quality time and acts of service so the two of you would often spend time together

Whether it's reading in your library or cooking dinner for each other, every moment you do together and action you do for him is cherished in Mihawk's heart, even if he doesn't mention it

He makes sure you're healthy and well (eating properly, making sure you get your sleep)

This man will be able to instantly tell if your state is the slightest bit off and will not hesitate to voice his concern

He is not opposed to having children, the idea might amuse him

In fact, after Zoro and Perona had made their appearance, Mihawk grew fond of the idea taking care of his own child, even if they would be irritating at times

Btw, Zoro and Perona think you two act like an old married couple ❤

Only way this would be possible is if you are someone like Luffy

She might not understand exactly what marriage life means but she will do her best to make you happy

She is going to cook for you and feed you

She will bathe you and make sure you have the best clothes to wear

And she will order the best doctors to bring you back to your best health if you get sick

She is taking ✨amazing✨ care of you

The two of you are just living the life of luxury regardless of where you choose to live because you two are together and happy

You will not have kids (for a number of reasons that I will not get into because this is supposed to be a fun post)

Alright, I had no idea what to do for Moria so I asked @ask-the-night-crowl for these headcanons, thank you again Snugs

In a marriage, Moria would totally rely on his partner to fulfill all the duties he has/ should be responsible for. Granted, the other mysterious four already take over most of those, but someone has to keep them all in check.

His spouse better not be aversed by his crew, because for as much as he says he doesn't care about these idiots, he would also face death to protect them.

Unless him and his s/o have known eachother for a pretty long time, he'll try to keep them at an arm's length. Not necessarily because they don't have good enough of a connection, but the idea of loss is always on his mind.

He doesn't mind affection. In fact, he'll back-handedly seek it out by annoying his s/o until they give him attention if he so desires. He's pretty much like an oversized cat.

On the other hand, you'll also have to be prepared not to see him for days on end, because of his sleeping habits (Again, like a cat).

But in that time, cuddling with him is totally fine, because once that man is out, he sleeps like a rock.

His frequent nightmares might lead to the conclusion that comforting him would be the answer. But he hates the idea of being treated as weak as that and would much rather appreaciate the mere presence of his s/o when he wakes up next to them.

In contrast, he'll offer the same to his s/o when they feel down and would have an immediate (even petty) grudge against anyone harming them.

Staying in with him at a fireplace, drinking fancy wines and making fun of the other warlords would be his favorite way to spend time when he's awake for once.

If the spouse is good at cooking, you can bet they'll become his personal chef - after all, love goes through the stomach amirite.

If you're marrying Doffy, his family comes as a package deal, you can't have him without it, that being said, he expects you to get along with them (you can tolerate them instead but just don't let him notice)

Of course, he will expect you to take care of Baby 5, Buffalo, and Dellinger as if they were your children, he is open to making blood offsprings, but never put them before him

Doffy is your number 1 priority, whatever he says goes

But just because he's demanding doesn't mean he won't show you affection, in fact, most of his demands is just him wanting to give or receive affection

You are showed in gifts and luxury, he is the king of Dressrosa afterall, your word has every weight as his own since your are his queen

He is proud to show off his spouse, you are his most prized possession after all

However, you are more than just a trophy, after the loss of his dear mother and brother, he holds you close and tells you how dear you are to him every night

You are often woken up in the middle of the night due to his rustling from nightmares, just hold him to calm him down

Crocodile keeps you in the dark about his work, for all you know, he is a casino owner in Alabasta that keeps the people safe from pirates since he's a warlord

He takes you out for a stroll around in the evening, outside to admire the stars, or in the casino where your every need is met

He doesn't show affection in public but his gestures do show you belong to him and no one else

He keeps you company in bed at night until you fall asleep but when you wake up, he is not there, he's working as always

When see him next, he'll have a gift for you, an apology for not being able to always be around as he is a very busy man, but he'll make it up to you

I imagine it would be comfortable, like little cottage in nature kind of comfy

You both would wake up in the morning with a nice cup of tea

Your place would be clean and organized

You'd receive lots of comforting hugs and cuddles

Life would be peaceful

Until strawhat crew comes knocking on your door

Don't quite have any ideas for Kuma so... This is end, I hope you enjoy anon, and thank you for requesting

[mountsmase]

a/n: hi 🫶🏻 this fic was inspired by this concept which was sent in by an anon a couple of weeks ago, for some reason this fic ended up being quite challenging for me to write and I ended up scraping one draft and starting again completely, but I’m so happy with how it’s turned out and it’s definitely a fic that I’m now proud of 🥺 I really hope you enjoy and feedback as always is appreciated 🩷

word count: 5k

genre: smut

———————

A Helping Hand - MM7

It’s the scratch of Masons beard against your skin that wakes you. His breath tickling over your skin as he scatters kisses along the expanse of your shoulder.

“Morning” he speaks once he notices you stirring, his gruff morning voice causing your skin to erupt in goosebumps.

Your eyes flutter open, taking a few moments to adjust to the morning light and when they do, you find his already focussed on you.

There’s a lazy smile on his lips, his hair a little messy and you can’t help but reach up, brushing your fingers through the soft strands to push it back from where they’ve fallen onto his forehead.

“Good morning” your voice is sleepy as hold your arms open for him, seeking his warmth under the duvet and he doesn’t hesitate to snuggle up to you, his head finding it’s home in the crook of your neck whilst your arms wrap around his shoulders.

“Sleep well?” He murmurs, voice slightly muffled by your skin.

“Yeah, did you?”

He doesn’t respond but you can feel him nodding into your neck, a sigh slipping past his lips when your hand finds the back of his head, fingers scratching over his scalp the way he loves.

You know that you should get up and start your day, the sunlight that’s streaming through the gaps in the curtains an indicator that you’ve probably slept in a little longer than you wanted, but leaving the warmth of the bed is the last thing you want to be doing.

Plus, a little bit of alone time with Mason is exactly what you want right now.

His family are currently visiting from Portsmouth, and as much as you love hosting them, having so many people in the house can definitely get a little bit crazy. Since you moved up to Manchester, their visits have become less frequent, but longer, and they’ve already been staying with you for a couple of days now, planning to stay a few more nights before heading back home.

Family time is so important to you, and you know it is for Mason as well, but quality time is a huge love language of yours, and even though it’s only been a few days, you’ve missed these little moments where it’s just the two of you.

You let out a content sigh, relaxing under him when his hand finds its way under your PJ top, and he doesn’t miss the way you shiver when he presses his lips to your neck.

His fingertips dance over your waist whilst his lips pepper kisses to your skin and you tilt your head back to allow him better access.

The kisses start off as innocent, just presses of his lips to your skin whilst his fingertips trace random patterns over your hip. But they soon turn to more, his lips lingering longer and you hold back a moan when he suctions them over your most sensitive spot, his teeth grazing your skin before soothing the slight sting with his tongue.

Your hands tug on his hair, pulling his head out of your neck and guiding his lips to yours instead. He kisses you back instantly, keeping it soft to start as his lips work over yours, hand moving from your hip to cradle your jaw.

He coaxes your lips open, slipping his tongue inside and you moan into his mouth when it glides against your own, the kiss gradually becoming more heated as he moves further on top of you.

He presses one of his knees between your legs, and you slip them open for him without hesitation, bucking your hips when the new position has his thigh pressing against your clothed centre.

“Mase, we can’t” you whisper, unable to stop your hips from rolling into his and when you feel his hard length pressing into your thigh through his boxers, you want to forget you ever said anything and carry on.

You nearly give into him, sinking into the mattress when he brushes his fingertips along the waist band of your shorts, but the sound of little footsteps running past your bedroom door has you snapping back to reality.

Under other circumstances, you would jump at the opportunity to spend the morning in bed with him, but it’s the thought of getting caught that has you reluctantly rolling away.

You hear a muffled groan behind you when you move away from him and climb out of bed, slipping one of his hoodies on before turning to find him with his face buried in his pillow. You regret leaving him immediately, wanting nothing more than to climb back under those covers, but the rational part of your brain stops you.

“You know we can’t Mase” you huff, walking around to his side of the bed and sitting next to him on the edge of the mattress.

You trail your fingers over his bare shoulders, lightly scratching over his skin in an attempt to get him to look at you.

When he lifts his head from the pillow and gazes up at you with wide eyes and pouted lips, you can’t help but lean down and give him a brief kiss, your lips barely brushing over his before you’re pulling back, way too quick for his liking.

“Do you want any breakfast?” You ask him before standing back up, and he has to stop him self from making a comment about wanting you.

He lets you know that he’ll get something a bit later on, sitting himself up in bed to give you one last kiss before you leave the room. He watches as the door clicks closed behind you, tipping his head back in frustration now that he’s been left alone.

He understands why you don’t want to risk doing anything with other people in the house, because honestly, the thought of getting caught scares the shit out of him too. But, after almost a week of not being able to touch you or love on you how he pleases, he wants nothing more than to go after you and pull you back to bed with him.

His mind is flooded with thoughts as he lays in bed for a while longer, unable to get you out of his head when he climbs out from under the covers and disappears into the en-suite bathroom.

You’re welcomed by a series of ‘good morning’s as you enter the combined living/kitchen space, finding everyone already awake and ready for the day when you walk in wearing one of Mason’s hoodies and a pair of PJ bottoms.

“Morning” you greet them all with a smile, heading into the kitchen to make yourself a drink, and you’re just switching the kettle on when Lewis comes up beside you.

“We were thinking of heading out for a walk in a little bit, you and Mase are obviously welcome to join us if you want to” he tells you, and you lean back against the counter beside him to get a better look out of the window.

You ponder over his question for a moment, noticing that it’s an abnormally sunny day for the middle of winter, and as much as a walk would be nice, some alone time with Mason sounds way more appealing.

You politely decline his offer, letting him know that you’ll stay home before asking if anyone else wants a drink and busying yourself with making them.

Your mind begins swirling with thoughts of what you and Mason could get up to if they’re out for even just an hour, and you scold yourself for thinking those things in front of his family, but you can’t help growing impatient as you wait for them to leave.

You follow them to the door when they’re ready, waving them off before closing it and watching from the window, you make sure they’re past the end of the driveway before you’re heading back upstairs.

You enter your bedroom, expecting to find Mason still in bed where you left him not even ten minuets ago, but you soon notice the sound of running water coming from the en-suite.

Assuming he’s just having a quick shower, you make your way to the bed, quite happy just waiting for him to be finished, but a noise that sounds strangely like a moan catches your attention. You stop in your tracks, waiting for a moment to see if it’s followed by another.

There’s silence for a few seconds, and you’re convinced that you’re just hearing things until another, louder and more clear moan comes from the bathroom.

Its still muffled, barely audible over the sound of the water, but it has heat rushing straight towards your core, mind swirling with thoughts about what exactly he’s doing behind that door.

Your curiosity carries you across the room, hand reaching to push the en-suite door open slightly and you peak your head around the side to find him stood with his back to you in the shower.

Your view is a little obstructed with all of the steam covering the glass, but you can just make out that he has one hand steadying himself against the wall, the other in front of him with the stream of water hitting his chest.

It doesn’t take you long to figure out what he’s doing, his posture tense and the muscles in his arm flexing with every movement of his hand as he pleasures himself, completely unaware of your presence.

You feel yourself flush from head to toe, cheeks blazing as you move yourself further into the steamy bathroom, careful not to catch his attention as you click the door closed behind you.

You’re debating what to do, not knowing whether to leave him be or join him, but your mind is made up when he lets out a groan, followed by a moan of your name which has your tummy doing somersaults.

You rid yourself of your PJs, throwing them in the rough direction of the laundry basket before sliding the shower door open and stepping inside, Mason still unaware of your presence.

Now that you’re in the shower with him, his moans and little whimpers seem louder, clearer and echoing off the tiled walls and they have your legs feeling like jelly as you move towards him.

You approach him slowly, trying your best not to startle him but he still jumps at your touch, halting his movements when he realises he’s be caught.

He slowly starts to relax again when you step closer to him. You run your hands over his back and shoulders, lips following them and drawing a path between his freckles and moles, before landing on the tattoo that sits at the base of his neck.

“You okay?” You finally speak, voice muffled by his skin.

“I, yeah, fuck- I” He stumbles over his words and you watch as he drops his head forward, just about catching his flaming cheeks before he turns his face to hide them from you.

“I’ve got you” you murmur, sliding one of your hands down from his shoulder.

Your fingers brush over his skin, tracing the lines of his Champions League tattoo on their way to his front. You tease your touch over his tummy, smiling to your self when the muscles of his abs flutter under your fingers, before moving to where he needs you most.

His hand is still wrapped around the base of his cock, unmoving since you joined him in the shower a few moments ago, and you gently pull at his wrist, moving his hand away and replacing it with your own.

He feels thick and heavy in your palm when you wrap your fingers around his base, the softest yet most sinful whimper slipping past his lips when you twist your hand over his length.

“Fuck,” he curses when you brush your thumb over his tip, spreading the pre cum that’s collected there.

“Feel good, bubba?” You hum against his skin, lips continuing to scatter kisses over the expanse of his back.

“So good, Angel, fuck”

You bring your free hand around to his front, a whimper leaving his lips when you lightly scratch your nails over his tummy.

Needing to hold onto you in some way, he brings his own hand up, lacing his fingers through yours and he squeezes gently.

You continue to work him with your hand, tightening your grip slightly whenever you get closer to his tip, and the whine he lets out when you tease your thumb over his slit has your knees turning weak.

“Please, baby” He whimpers, head tilting to try and catch a glimpse of you over his shoulder.

You nuzzle your nose into his back, hand continuing to torture him with slow strokes.

“What do you need, Mase?” You whisper against his skin, thumb brushing another teasing stroke over his tip and he can only groan in response, “Need you to tell me what you want or I can’t help you, bubs”

You halt your movements when he still doesn’t respond, his hips hips jerking forward in an attempt to get you to move your fist again, but a frustrated sigh slips past his lips when you make no effort to continue.

“You know what I want” His words come out as more of a mumble, but you could hear the attitude laced in them from a mile away and he whines when you squeeze your fist a little tighter around him.

“I need to hear you say it, Mase” you pry,

“Need you, your mouth - fuck - anything, please” He finally manages to get out, hips bucking into your hand when you give one last stroke over his length.

“Not in here”

You lean up, pressing a barely there kiss to his cheek and he whimpers when your touch leaves him, watching in confusion as you reach around his body to turn the shower off before stepping away from him and out of it completely.

Your words take a few moments to sink in, but he quickly follows when he sees you grabbing two towels from the rail, holding one out for him as you rush to dry yourself off.

“W-wait, what about -“

“They’ve gone out” you tell him briefly, cutting him off mid sentence.

There’s still a few droplets of water cascading down his chest when you grow impatient and take the towel from him, discarding it, along with yours, to the side before pulling him through to the bedroom.

“Sit,” you say, gently pushing on his shoulders and he falls onto edge of the mattress, legs spreading apart when you move to settle on the floor between them.

He sighs contentedly, eyes fluttering closed as you run your hands up the insides of his thighs, his muscles jumping under your touch.

“Nuh-uh, eyes on me” you tut, and he sighs, eyes popping opening and locking onto yours.

“Good boy” you mumble, and the praise goes straight to his cock, length twitching when the words leave your lips.

Sliding your hands higher up his thighs, you shuffle forward a little, getting more comfortable between his them and he hisses when your hand wraps around the base of his cock.

“Ready?” You ask him, gazing up at him through your lashes and when he nods, you give him one last stroke before leaning towards him.

You run your tongue along the underside of his length before wrapping your lips around the head, and his deep brown eyes become fixated on yours, his lips parting when you flick your tongue over his tip. The taste of his pre cum coats your tastebuds and you hum around him, watching as he fights to keep his gaze on you.

You continue to tease him, revelling in the whimpers that pour from his lips every time you swipe your tongue over his slit before giving him what he wants.

Relaxing your jaw, you move your mouth further down his length, taking as much of him as you possibly can and he hisses at the sensation of his tip hitting the back if your throat.

“Oh my- fuck, Y/N” the moan of your name has butterflies erupting in your tummy, only spurring you on when you begin to bob your head, hand continuing to work what you can’t fit in your mouth.

“Feel good, Masey?” You coo, and he can only nod his head in response, unable to form a coherent sentence when you swirl your tongue around his tip.

The sinful sounds that leave his lips have you rubbing your thighs together, desperate for some sort of friction when his hand finds the back of your head. His fingers tangle into your hair, massaging over your scalp and you let him guide you, hollowing your cheeks around him when he lowers your mouth down his length.

You let it slide when his head drops back, his eyes squeezing closed when you take him all the way again. The sight of you on your knees and the feeling of your warm mouth around his cock becoming too much for him as he quickly heads towards his release.

“Gonna make me come already, Angel, oh my god” he pants, and he knows he’s done for when your other hand slides up the inside of his thigh, finding his balls.

“Come for me, Mase. I’ve got you” you coo, and with one final flick of your tongue over his tip, he’s cuming into your mouth.

You swallow every last drop, working him through his high until his hips start bucking out of sensitivity. Leaving one last kiss to his tip, you pull away from him, sitting back on your feet and resting your head against his thigh, eyes fluttering closed as you both take a moment to catch your breaths.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, the hand that’s still in your hair gently massages over your scalp and you flutter your eyes open, finding him looking down at you with a soft smile.

His hand moves to cup your jaw, thumb swiping at an escaped drop of his cum before pressing it to your lips and you part them for him, cleaning the drop off his finger when he pushes it into your mouth.

“Come here” he whispers, motioning to his lap.

His hands finds your waist when you stand on wobbly legs, your knees aching from being knelt down for too long, but you can’t bring yourself to care as he helps you lower into his lap, knees either side of him as you straddle his thighs.

“You okay?” He asks, tucking some loose strands of hair behind your ear and your heart flutters at the simple question.

You nod, leaning into his touch when he cups his hand over your jaw, thumb brushing across the apple of your cheek.

“I’ve missed you” His words are soft, eyes locked on yours.

“I’ve been here the whole time” you whisper, nuzzling further into his touch.

“I know, but I’ve still missed you.” He leans closer towards you as he speaks, “Missed getting to spend time alone with you, missed having you like this” He tells you, close enough now that you can feel his breath fanning over your cheek, his lips brushing yours with every word.

“I’ve missed you too” You rest your forehead against his, hands coming up to hold the back of his neck.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah”

The word is barely past your lips when he presses his mouth to yours in a bruising kiss, taking you by surprise for a moment before you regain your composure, melting against him and kissing him back with just as much vigour.

His lips work in perfect sync against yours, his arms wrapping securely around your waist to pull you further into his lap and he hums into the kiss when you roll your hips over his.

Your hands find his shoulders, holding hard enough that you’re sure you’ll find little crescent shaped marks there later, but that’s the least of your concerns when his hand gravitates up your front. His warm palm cups over your boob, thumb stroking over your nipple and the feel of him toying with the hardened nub has you gasping into his mouth.

He takes the opportunity to coax his tongue between your lips, slipping it into your mouth and brushing it against yours in slow, unhurried strokes. One of your hands moves to the back of his head, tangling your fingers into his hair and scratching your nails over his scalp and the way he groans into your mouth has heat heading south to your already dripping core.

You reluctantly pull away to catch your breath, whimpering when his teeth tug on your bottom lip.

“Fuck, Mase, I need you”

“You’ve got me, Angel” he mutters, drawing kisses over your jaw before dropping his head into your neck.

You sigh on top of him when he trails kisses from your shoulder to below your ear, grazing his teeth over your delicate skin and the scratch of his beard has your back arching, grip tightening in his hair when he pays attention to your most sensitive spot. He nips at the skin, lips suctioning over it and you have to remind yourself to stop him, tugging on his hair and moving his lips away to prevent a bruise forming there later.

Your lips find his again, this time a lot softer as he slides his hand down between your bodies. His warm palm cups over your centre, a faint moan leaving your lips and a groan rumbles in his throat when he feels your wetness coating his fingers.

“Fuck, angel, you’re dripping for me” he speaks against your lips and you buck into his hand, whimpering when he nudges a single finger between your folds.

“Need to feel you, Mase”

“Yeah?” He coos, and you hum in confirmation, growing more impatient by the second.

His lips come back to your neck and you take the brief moment where he’s distracted to reach down, taking his length in your hand to find him hard again as you give him a single pump. You wiggle around a little, rising on your knees to try and find a comfortable position.

It takes him a second to process what you’re doing, but he stops you with a hand on your hip before you get a chance to line him up with your entrance.

“What about y-“ he speaks, but you cut him off with another peck to his lips, shuffling in his lap and he whimpers when his length brushes against the inside of your thigh.

“Later” you reassure him, and you smile softly at the pout that forms on his lips.

You know that he probably wants nothing more than to have his head buried between your thighs right now, always so eager to make you feel good, and you’d no doubt love that too, but you know that you’re working with limited time and you’re aching to feel him inside of you.

“Promise?” He holds his hand up between your bodies, pinky sticking out towards you.

You stifle a giggle, shaking your head at him in disbelief, but you quickly link your pinky with his none the less and he leans forward to peck your lips once more.

“Are you ready?” He asks you, lips trailing over your cheek.

“Yeah”

You line him up with your entrance, bracing your hands on his shoulders and you both moan in unison when you lower yourself onto him, his tip nudging past your folds.

His hand finds your hip, thumb rubbing over your skin in soothing circles as you sink down on him, head falling into his neck and eyes fluttering closed when you take him all the way.

“Take your time, love” he hums and you give yourself a moment to adjust to him, brushing your lips over his skin until he’s cupping your cheek and pulling your head back from his neck.

You meet his eyes, the dark brown orbs staring right back at you and you swear you can see his pupils dilate, with your flushed cheeks and messy hair, lips parted and swollen, the sight of you on top of him is one he wants to remember forever.

“You okay?” He asks, thumb brushing over your lips and you nod, sending him a warm smile before slowly lifting yourself until only his tip is left inside of you.

You sink back down, moaning at the feeling of him nestled inside of you, able to feel every inch of him as you repeat the action.

“Fuck, taking me so well Angel” he drawls, and your whole body lights up at the praise.

You pick up your pace slightly, bouncing on top of him and his hands never leave your hips as he helps guide you, letting you take it at your own pace until you’re reluctantly slowing down, legs starting to feel tired.

“M-Mase” you whimper into his neck, falling limp on top of him and opting to roll your hips over his.

“I’ve got you, Angel” he whispers, lips finding your temple before he’s pulling you off of him slowly.

He takes a hold of your hips gently, lowering you to the mattress and he watches as you relax back into the sheets, head falling to the pillows as your hair spreads around you like a halo.

He parts your thighs before crawling in between them and settling his body on top of yours.

Resting his body weight on one arm, he reaches down with the other and you feel his warm palm slide up the back if your thigh, giving your bum a playful slap before hooking your leg over his waist.

“Sorry” you speak, voice quiet and small and he hates the pout that forms on your lips.

“Don’t be silly bubba, it’s okay” he whispers, lips brushing over yours.

You send him a soft smile, eyes locking onto his when he lines himself back up with your entrance. The new angle has him hitting deeper, your back arching off the mattress when he buries himself to the hilt inside of you and your moans mingle between you when he pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back in.

He keeps his pace slow, resting his forehead against yours as he thrusts inside of you and his tip brushes that spot that has you seeing stars.

“Fuck, Mase. Feels so good” you breath, one hand finding the back of his neck and when he notices the other clutching at the sheets, he takes it in his own, lacing his fingers with yours and holding them up beside your head.

He hooks his other arm around your waist, holding you closer to him and he hits that special spot inside of you with every thrust of his hips.

“I love you so fucking much” he growls against your lips, punctuating each word with a kiss and when you meet his eyes, they’re already gazing back at you, shining with adoration and a range of similar emotions.

“I love you too, holy shit” your voice is breathless and you send him a soft smile, sliding your hand up from his neck to the back of his head, pulling him down to place a series of pecks to his lips.

Your heart thuds at the way his eyes lock on yours. The chocolatey orbs shining with so much love as he pounds into you, able to feel every inch of him as he rolls his hips.

“Are you close?” He looks down to where your bodies meet, the way you’re clenching around him a tell tale sign that your orgasm is nearing, “Taking me so well, baby”

“Y-yes! Mase, fuck, gonna cum” you sob, eyes fluttering closed when he buries himself to the hilt inside of you.

“F-fuck” he stutters, thrusts faltering when your walls flutter around him, his own orgasm fast approaching.

“I’m there with you, angel. Let go for me” he rasps, and it only has one last push of his hips to have you toppling over the edge with a cry of his name.

Your high is overwhelming, pleasure overcoming your senses as your back arches off the mattress, pressing impossibly closer to him.

He isn’t far behind you, a moan of your name muffled into your neck when his own orgasm hits him, the feeling of your walls fluttering around him sending him toppling over the edge and he slumps on top of you, thrusts becoming sloppy as he works you both through your highs. His fingers still brushing over your clit until your bucking your hips from the sensitivity.

Your hand finds the back of his head when his thrusts slow, scratching your nails over his scalp when his body goes limp on top of yours, well and truly spent from his orgasm.

He keeps himself buried inside of you, laying in a comfortable silence with his head pressed into your neck whilst you catch your breaths and steady your heartbeats.

After a while, he moves to pull out of you slowly, littering kisses over your forehead when he notices you wincing from the sensitivity, before flopping down on to the bed beside you.

Getting himself comfy on his back, he opens his arms for you, letting you crawl into them and settle against his chest and his arms wrap around you securely, caging you to his body.

You stay laying like that for a while, enjoying the comfort and warmth of his body wrapped around yours. He has one hand on your thigh, massaging the sore muscles and the other tracing patterns over your shoulder until he’s shuffling around slightly to look down at you.

“How about another shower?” There’s a cheeky smile on his lips when you tilt your head to look up at him, “I still owe you an orgasm”

———————

I hope you enjoyed 🤭

[haikyu-mp4]

Hiya! Can i pls request Right Now with Ushijima? Thank you ❤❤

Now playing... Right Now

word count; 866 – gn!reader, for my 1D x Haikyu event

Ushijima wasn’t sure what made him so restless. Maybe it was because every task he did after coming back from work was halved. He made dinner for one, evening tea for one, and watched whatever he wanted on TV without any input from you. Everything he should be doing with you, he did by himself.

Playing in the Polish league was amazing volleyball-wise. The players were good and generally taller, presenting him and his team with new challenges and advantages. Training and playing was fun. He was also able to catch a few trips to visit Tendo, which he hadn’t been able to do as often before. Now he wasn’t that far away! But nothing could make up for the fact that you were now as far away from him as Tendo used to be. Unfortunately, your job requires you to stay in Japan.

Every night he felt it. Longed for the light snore he had come to associate with home. He felt it every time he was at his new apartment, and even more whenever something particularly new happened, something he would have to get used to or figure out. That’s when he needed his other half.

And right now, as he lay in bed after a long day of struggling with the language barrier and trying a new dish that didn’t quite work out, he wished you were there with him.

Rolling over and accepting that sleep wouldn’t greet him yet, he picked up his phone. He blinked a couple of times to get used to the brightness from the screen, switching the setting so it was more bearable before finally looking at the latest message notification. If he felt any drowsiness before, it was whisked away when he saw it was a message from you.

Call me when you wake up, my love. I have exciting news!

Wakatoshi checked the time back home in Japan before calling you immediately. It rang four times before he finally heard your voice. “Toshi! I didn’t think you’d be awake.”

“I couldn’t sleep. What is the exciting news, dearest?”

You giggled on the other end of the line, and the sound quality switched, so he assumed you had put him on speaker while multitasking. He smiled at the ceiling as he listened, closing his eyes and imagining himself there with you. “You know that company I sent you an article about? The one that’s completely home-office based,” you asked him, and he could sense an impatient excitement in your voice.

He hummed in confirmation. “I do. They seem to manage it very well so far, from what I read. It’s interesting, but I’m wondering how much they save on an office if they’re paying for part of the home-office expenses like they said they do.”

“I agree, but that does mean they get to pick and choose the best workers from all over the world!” you said, wiggling your eyebrows as if hinting at something, only to realise he couldn’t even see you.

“There must be a very large number of applications, I’m sure. I can not understand how they have the capacity to go through all of them,” he answered, seeming to get engaged in the topic, which was one of the traits you loved most about Wakatoshi. He always paid attention to the things you brought up.

“I suppose, but there might not be that many if you consider that people are not sure if it’s a reliable workplace yet,” you suggested. The discussion almost made you forget what you needed to tell him, but luckily he was there to get you back on track.

“You are very right. But are the exciting news related to this company? I did not know you were so invested in their growth.”

“Well, I certainly am now. They want me to work for them!” you squealed, and he could just imagine how you would dance around the kitchen.

His lips parted, and he stared into the nothingness of the dark roof as he registered what you said, and then slowly also realised what it might mean. “Congratulations. I did not know you applied.”

“I know, it felt like such a hopeless attempt that I didn’t want to talk about it. But I got through to the last interview and they really liked me,” you told him. Your happiness practically radiated through the phone.

“Of course they did, and they’re lucky to have you,” he said, and you were thrilled on the other end of the line when you heard his soft chuckle, undeniable proof of his joy. “Does this mean…” He dipped his tongue between his lips to wet them as a smile stretched out. “You could move here with me?”

Your steps echoed in the kitchen as you stomped your feet in excitement. “Yes! We can look at that tomorrow if you’d like. I miss you so much, Toshi.”

And Ushijima squeezed the duvet in the hand that wasn’t holding his phone as this immense relief overtook him.

Right now, he wishes you were there with him.

And soon, you will be.

“I miss you too, so much. I can’t wait to have you with me again.”

masterlist

[msmk11]

Are They Gone?

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

WC: 593

CW: none

Summary: You and Wanda, your longtime crush, are sent on a mission together.

Day 27 of mk’s mad dash

The mission, in theory, is simple. Get in, steal the data, get out. No one needs to get hurt. But for you, the mission is very very complicated. Why? Because you’re partnered with your crush of over a year- AKA the Scarlet Witch, AKA Wanda Maximoff. In group settings, you’re fine around Wanda. But as soon as you’re left alone, you forget to act like a regular, normal human being. You think Steve’s done this as payback for eating his last cookie the other day.

Natasha says you should be thrilled to have some quality one-on-one time with your crush. She seems to forget you’re not a natural flirt like her.

The first of half the mission goes well, though you suppose it’d be hard for it to go wrong- traveling on a private jet doesn’t typically have many difficulties. And the ones you did face- being in close proximity to Wanda- were handled with the disguise of sleep.

When you land, you and Wanda instantly set off to the office you’re supposed to infiltrate, both dressed in janitor’s clothing. The brunette’s magic gets you in the back door without detection easily enough, and the map you previously memorized plays out in your head as you guide the two of you to the enemy’s data storage units.

It seems that things are going perfectly, and so in your gut you know that something must go wrong. Something always goes wrong.

You’re right, but not in the way you think.

As you and Wanda round the corner on the sixteenth floor, the distinct voice of the enemy organization’s leader echoes through the tiled hall. You both know you’ll be recognized immediately, and panic settles into your chest. It’s quickly replaced with confusion, however, when Wanda grabs you by the wrist and yanks you into a cramped, dark place.

The janitor’s closet.

“Pretty good hiding spot,” the witch mumbles softly.

She’s so close to you that you can feel her breath fan across your face, and you shiver.

“I suppose we fit right in with the mop,” you agree.

A chuckle escapes Wanda’s lips and you can easily imagine the sparkle you’re sure is twinkling in her eye.

Just the thought of her pretty smile makes you nervous, and you instinctively step back. This, it seems, is a poor choice, given the close quarters you’re in. You stumble right into a shelf, and with enough force that a few cleaning supplies come tumbling towards the ground.

Yet again, the brunette in front of you saves your ass, her red magic suspending the fallen objects in place and one of her hands wrapping around your waist to steady you.

Though you’re always mesmerized by Wanda’s magic, as she puts the supplies back, all you can focus on is her burning touch.

“Gotta be careful, sweetheart,” she chastises gently, “could get caught, and I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Your heart stills in your chest. It almost seems like she cares for you.

You clear your throat awkwardly and shake away the silly notion, “are they gone?”

You expect Wanda’s eyes to glow red while she surveys the hall with her mind, but nothing happens. Instead, she squeezes your waist more tightly and murmurs, “I don’t care about them right now. Only care about you.”

The brunette leans closer to you and you inhale sharply.

“Can’t give up the moment to have a pretty girl in my arms.”

As usual, Wanda leaves you totally speechless. But hey, it’s not like you could argue with that.

[blue-slxt]

New Kink

*Request: this might be a miss ngl...but neteyam and lactating reader. that's all I'm gonna say. I just know that man has a breeding kink so why not this as well*

Okay, so this request really struck a chord with me because I used to have a boyfriend that had a lactation kink. I’ve never lactated before so that never went anywhere between us, but this was such a fun idea for me. I hope you like how it turned out!🤗 All characters are aged up.

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

Smut under the cut.

You carefully hand your sleeping baby over to Kiri. She had offered to watch her for the day so that you could finally get a break. Jake and Neytiri were more than happy to spend some quality time with their first grandchild. You were more than grateful for all their support.

“I just fed her so she should sleep for the first little while”, you tell her while you caress your baby’s precious sleeping face.

“Alright. You try to get some food and rest too.” Kiri says to you with a smile.

“Thank you. We’ll be by later to pick her up.” “No rush” she turns and walks back home with your baby.

You breathe a big sigh of relief when you plop yourself back on your sleeping mat. Even though your baby was still only 8 weeks old, your home felt so empty without her small coos and laughter. As grateful as you were for the break, you couldn’t help but miss her already.

You rest your head back against the wall and let your body relax.

Footsteps approach your home and you look to see Neteyam entering your home. “Welcome home. You just missed Kiri.” “I see. How are you feeling, tíyawn?” he says joining you on your mat and holding your face. You lean your cheek into his hand and smile softly.

“I am fine. I have missed you Ma’Teyam.”

“I have missed you too” he wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your chest. You stroke the top of his head gently enjoying these small moments of easy silence that the two of you rarely got to share any more.

Neteyam lets his eyes flutter shut while he breathes in your scent. He always loved the way you smelled and it had only intensified since having your baby. Suddenly, he felt a drip on his forearm. He opens his eyes to look and sees a single milky white droplet on his arm. And then another joins it. His eyes travel up the way it came and his eyes focus in on your breasts. They had become more full and your nipples dripped with milk.

The smell of your hormones was so strong here. He felt drunk as he stared at you. One of his hands trails up your body to cup your breast and grope it gently. You let out a deep sigh feeling his touch. The pressure he applies makes more of your milk spill over and run down his hand. “Shit…” he says lowly feeling his eyelids grow heavy and his loincloth feels tighter.

You finally look down at his hand and see the mess he’s making with your body. “Ah, ‘Teyam wait. I need to clean—” but he doesn’t let you finish your thought before he lets his impulse drive him to latch his mouth onto your nipple.

You jump at the contact with your sensitive bud. Neteyam groans against your skin tasting your sweet milk free flowing into his mouth. Every drop on his tongue pushes him more out of his mind. His hands roam about your body until one finally finds refuge between your legs.

“Neteyam, you s-shouldn’t…” you try to protest, but you can’t help how your body still submits to his touch and your back bows to press your chest more towards him.

He temporarily detaches from your nipple, “But why not?” Another suck. “You taste so good.” Another one. “So sweet all over for me.” His kisses trail down your body until his head is resting between your thighs. You open them just a little wider for him and he slides your loincloth to the side so he can bury his face in your wet cunt. A low moan escapes your lips feeling his tongue swipe back and forth across your clit. You make quick work of untying your top and letting it fall off. Neteyam busies his hands with feeling and squeezing your breasts loving how full they feel in his hands. He watches as more white dribbles out of your mounds and trail down your body. It triggers this deep-rooted need inside of him. He pulls off of you and pushes you down on the mat while he hovers over you. He attacks your neck and chest with kisses and licks and nips. “Yawne, let’s have another one.”

Your eyes go wide hearing his words. “’Teyam, we just had one” you remind him.

“I know, but I want to give you another. I want to see you carry more of my babies” he pauses to lap at your nipple again.

His tip is already prodding at your entrance. You didn’t even notice when he pulled it out. Your back arches when he finally slides in. There was the slightest twinge of pain feeling him stretch you out like this, but pleasure quickly overtakes you when he starts thrusting into you. “Oh ‘Teyam!” you call out while your fingers tangle in his braids.

His strokes are deep, but gentle. He doesn’t want to hurt you since you just had your baby even though every fiber of his being is screaming at him to mercilessly take you right now.

Low moans and groans leave his mouth feeling how wet you are around him. His mind races with flashes of your swollen belly and the fullness of your hips, thighs, and breasts. It drives his primal urge to breed you more.

He speeds up his pace and your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders. “Fuck, I wanna get you pregnant again.” Your mind is too far gone to even argue with him anymore.

“Do it Ma’Teyam. I want it.”

Your words push Neteyam’s mind over the edge. All the restraint he was holding on to goes straight out the window and he starts to rut wildly into your core. Wet squelching and moans mix in the air of your home.

The knot in your core starts to tighten when he starts slamming into your cervix. “Ah! Ah…Haah…’Teyam…Ah! Neteyam!” He’s all your mind can think of in this moment. Nothing else exists in this moment, but Neteyam and the feeling of your inevitable unraveling.

Hearing his name on your lips pushes Neteyam over the edge. “Oh, fuck I’m gonna cum. Gonna make sure you have more of my babies. Shit!” His lips latch onto your chest sucking down as much of your milk as he can while his hips stutter as he pumps you full of his thick, burning hot seed.  The heat and full feeling throws you into your own orgasm. Your body stiffens before your legs start to tremble around his waist. Your nails drag down his back and you’re both almost positive that it was deep enough to draw blood.

Neteyam holds himself inside of you for a minute trying to keep as much of his cum inside of you as he can. His body falls limp on top of you and you hold his head against your still heaving chest.

“You realize that our little one has only just been born and now we may have another one joining her soon?” you laugh a little rubbing his head.

“That is fine. You make such a pretty mama. I could do this forever.” He says blissfully nuzzling his face into your skin.

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves. You are not the one that has to birth them.”

[some-stars]

@yellowwwcrayon asked for things to be sent to them to cheer them up. so i wrote logan getting jealous over someone flirting with wade, as requested. hope it helps <3

They stop by the diner on the next block the morning after their first night in the new place, a narrow two-bedroom about twenty percent bigger and six blocks further from the subway. By the time the waitress gets them to their table, Wade already has her laughing, surprised and genuine, and the way she locks eyes with him when she pours his coffee is--it's nothing that Logan should feel any way about, but after a thoroughly sleepless night in his own bedroom, alone in bed for the first time in three months, he's given up pretending. It makes him feel a way.

She walks off and Wade doesn't watch her go. "So how'd you sleep last night? Is the luxury of a double bed all to yourself everything you were promised it would be?"

"It was fine," Logan says. The mattress had been an improvement over the pullout couch, at least.

"I starfished so hard," Wade says. "I went full snow angel. It was incredible." He sighs, smiling blissfully. Which is fine. Of course he prefers having his own space.

Wade lists the thrift stores he wants to check for dishes and furniture. Logan nods along and scans the menu for what to suggest to Wade when he inevitably forgets to look at it and the waitress asks what he wants.

She comes back after a couple minutes. "What can I get you guys?"

"Eggs over easy with bacon and home fries," Logan says, handing over his menu.

Wade looks his own up and down, fast enough that he's definitely not actually reading it. "I want. Uh. Logan, what do I want?"

"Waffles," Logan tells him.

"Fantastic choice." Wade gives him a thumbs up. "Waffles please, Emily. Can they come with strawberries and whipped cream?"

"Well..." She smiles at him. "I mean, they don't, but we have strawberries for the fruit salad and whipped cream for sundaes, so I'm sure we can make that happen."

Wade smiles back, bright and genuine. They're both being completely genuine. She's not pretending to be charmed for a bigger tip; she just likes Wade. Logan can't exactly blame her for that. And Wade likes her. It's hard to tell exactly how much, though. He's been in a good mood since Logan woke up.

"Emily," Wade says, "you're an angel. The biblically accurate kind, which is way cooler than a dude in a robe."

Emily giggles like she's recognizing a reference to something. She's good-looking, late twenties, maybe. Black hair in a ponytail and tortoiseshell glasses and fucking besotted with Wade, who may or may not realize he's flirting with her. There's no reason for him not to flirt with her.

Logan doesn't realize he's scowling until she leaves and Wade leans across the table. "What's got your fur all puffed out, kittycat?" he says. "I haven't seen that level of bitch face from you in weeks."

He makes his face go neutral, probably. "Nothing. What were you saying about IKEA?"

"Ridiculously overpriced for the quality, ever since they became a cultural icon. You're literally just paying for the brand at this point."

The food can't take more than ten minutes to arrive, but Emily manages to stop by to refill their coffee twice. By the time she sets Logan's eggs in front of him, she's calling Wade by his name and making some kind of reference to a TV show that apparently went off the air over twenty years ago, which of course Wade understands.

The idea of Wade hitting it off with someone, dating them, finding someone to be serious about again, should make Logan glad for him. God knows the guy deserves it. And the worst part is Logan is glad, it genuinely feels good to see Wade happy and looking comfortable to be out in public without the mask, with someone who clearly really likes him.

It just also feels fucking terrible, for reasons Logan hasn't even had a full day yet to consciously process.

Emily sets Wade's plate down, revealing that the strawberry slices on the waffle have been arranged into a smiley face. Wade claps his hands in delight. Logan's spoon bends in his fist. He puts some food in his mouth without tasting it, because he's genuinely worried he might say something. 

Wade blows a kiss at Emily as she walks backwards away from the table, and Logan makes a noise around his eggs. Wade looks back at him, eyebrows raised.

"Did something go down the wrong pipe, peanut?"

"A little young for you, isn't she?" It sounds stupid coming out of his mouth. He doesn't know why he's saying anything at all. 

Wade doesn't lower his eyebrows. "Thirty-two is pretty solidly in my half-your-age-plus-seven range. Not that you have a leg to stand on. Blind Al isn't even in your range. You can pretty much only date vampires."

"Thirty-two?" Logan says, skeptical. "How do you know?"

"She told me," Wade says. "You were there, looking like she just took a dump in your pina colada. For no apparent reason, since she definitely didn't do that."

Logan's so fucking stupid. "Forget it."

Wade shakes his head. "No, sorry, I'm interested now. It was a joke before, but literally if you had cat ears they'd be flat as hell right now. Tail swishing ominously, puffed up, the whole nine yards. Why are you so pissed someone's being nice to me?"

"I'm not--" 

Wade reaches over and pulls the bent spoon out of Logan's hand. "Sure. Cool as a cucumber, that's you. Seriously, did she do something bad?"

He's frowning, a little, like he's genuinely open to the possibility of the woman he's into having some secret evil tell that only Logan noticed. He always takes Logan so fucking seriously. Nobody's done that since--he can't remember. Since before everything went wrong. 

"She's fine," Logan says. He thinks he sounds mostly normal. "It's fine. Fuck off."

Wade's eyes go cartoonishly wide, and Logan's stomach turns over. "Holy fucking shit are you jealous?"

"Shut the fuck up," Logan says, low and dangerous. Wade's grin practically splits his face in half.

"You're jealous, oh my god. You like me. You have a crush on me, oh my god, this is so fucking cool."

He can't do this. "Go fuck yourself," he snarls, and slides out of the booth and stands up. His face feels hot. He wants to punch Wade, but he wants to get out of here more; he's three long steps away when Wade calls after him.

"Logan, wait!" He sounds urgent. Almost scared, which doesn't make any sense. "It's okay, I'm not--I'm sorry, I'm being a huge asshole. Please don't storm out of our first brunch in the new neighborhood, I'll be too sad to put the receipt in my scrapbook. There'll just be a blank space. It'll be heartbreaking."

Logan's so fucking tired. From not sleeping, but even more from Wade sounding genuinely apologetic, like he thinks he's done something wrong. Logan sighs and turns around. The spoon is spinning back and forth in Wade's fingers. He probably doesn't even know he's fidgeting with it.

"Can you just not fucking joke about it?" he mutters, and sits heavily back down.

"No, I'm not--I mean, it's not--" Wade frowns, pressing his lips together like he wants to say something. 

Logan waits, for lack of any better option.

"I like you too," Wade says. It comes out in a rush, quiet and earnest. "I like you a lot. More than Emily. Was she really flirting with me? I don't think she was flirting with me. Can I come sit on your side, or is that too forward?" His brow furrows, and he leans back, away from Logan. "Not that you're like, required to date me now, just because you have--wow, I am making a lot of assumptions, sorry, it's just kind of nerve-wracking because you haven't said anything or even moved a single muscle in your face and I'm starting to feel like I've drastically misjudged the situation but I can't figure out how and it's making me a little manic."

"Wade," Logan says. Wade's mouth shuts. Something in Logan's chest clenches tight for a second, then flutters open.

He slides over to the inside of the booth, making room.

When Emily comes back with yet more coffee, Logan watches her face fall. She takes a breath and rolls her shoulders back. "How's everything tasting?" she says, with a smile only a little less bright. 

"Fantastic," Wade says. "Are these local strawberries?"

"It's November," she says, "so no."

"Then I must just be tasting the love you put into them," Wade says, squeezing Logan's hand. Logan nudges Wade's foot with his own and smiles down at his plate as Emily laughs. 

"Oh shit, she was flirting with me," Wade hisses once she's gone again. "What the fuck, that never fucking happens! I mean it used to happen constantly but then, you know, Extreme Makeover: Face Edition. Which makes your sudden affection all the more inexplicable, but--gift horse, mouth, et cetera. We should tip her a lot, I think."

"Yeah," Logan agrees. "She's got good taste. Ought to be rewarded."

"Now you're flirting with me?" Wade's voice comes out higher than normal. He coughs. "Tell me your feelings on PDA, I need to know right now immediately."

Wade is staring at his mouth, swaying even further into his space. Logan tries to remember how he felt five hours ago in the pre-dawn dark, alone in his cold too-wide bed, but it's already fuzzed over and distant.

"Go for it," he says, and then he's being kissed. Wade's mouth is sweet with syrup, and pleasantly bitter beneath that. Logan kisses him back, loses track of time for a minute.

When they leave, Wade puts enough cash on the table to cover their bill twice over. Logan adds another ten dollars and his silent, fervent thanks.

--

(okay i did put it on ao3 and it's very slightly tweaked over there)