#but really he’ll have to get through it on his own as always

[puckinghischier]

I bet Nico Hischier is really good with kids. Not in the “oh I spend a lot of time around them so I got used to them way,” in the “they just like me” way.

Like imagine the two of you babysitting a friend’s kid, and you try to put them to sleep and they refuse, but when Nico lays beside them they’re out like a light immediately.

And when you’d walk in he’d definitely say he wants you to hold his baby against glass wearing a tiny #13 within the next two years because he’s so awestruck by the soft innocence of them.

oh he would so get baby fever every time any of his teammates would talk about their kids

he would always be the first to volunteer the two of your for babysitting duties anytime one of his guys needed a date night out with his wife, wanting to play house with you until he could make the real thing happen

“c’mon, it’s just for a couple hours. plus, i already told haula we’d do it. him and kristen have dinner reservations in an hour, so we gotta get going,” he would explain when you complained, saying you wanted a night in with him.

all through the night, you’d be trying to get henrik to play with you, but he would go to nico every time, acting like you weren’t even there unless you were offering him a snack

“okay, this isn’t even fair, nico. you can’t spring babysitting plans on me when the kid we’re sitting doesn’t even want anything to do with me. what do you have that i don’t? you hiding goldfish in your pockets or something?” you’d ask him skeptically, not knowing why henrik wants nothing more than to play cars with nico all night

“i don’t know, kids just love me,” nico shrugs in response, finding it cute how frustrated you’re getting.

when it would come time to put henrik to bed, you’d finally have your time to shine, considering the toddler crawled in your lap and started playing with your soft hair, eyes dropped so low you know he’ll be out any second.

you take him up to his bedroom and change him into his pajamas, laying him in his race car bed and tucking him in. as you’re walking over to turn his night light on, however, henrik suddenly thinks it’s play time again, refusing any and every plea you make for him to lay back down and go to sleep.

nico can hear your frustrated conversation with the child, peeking his head in to help you out. “want me to give it a try?”

you surrender, giving him control of the situation. your jaw is nearly on the floor when all nico has to do is pick the up the little boy, laying down with him in the small bed, the toddler almost immediately falling asleep once his head hits the pillow.

“whatever, i’m going to clean up their house,” you huff out in defeat, leaving nico alone to make sure the babe stays asleep.

when you come back into the room around 30 minutes later, nico is just laying there, watching the little blondie sleep.

he hears you enter the room, the creak of the hardwood floor giving you away. the sight is making your heart burst nearly in two, and nico can see it all over your face.

“you know, i wouldn’t mind to have a little one of our own here soon. buy a little custom #13 jersey, bring him or her down to the ice to beat around on the glass during warm ups. think it would be kinda nice, actually. what do you think?” he’d say, looking between you and the little angel in the bed next to him.

“i think you need to stop talking and take me home. erik and kristen just pulled in,” is all you would say in response, but the thick tone in your voice lets nico know you’re more than on the same page as him

[stoutguts]

Ghoap 💀🧼 relationship dynamic HC (shall we?)

Simon "Ghost" Riley is no scaredy-cat.

The man has been through hell on Earth, survived torture, abuse,—and being buried alive for fuck’s sake. They managed,—even after everyone he loved was taken from him. Has been through countless tense and anxiety inducing situations throughout their military career.

But Ghost has nerves of steel, excellent control over his emotions, and naturally that’s why it’s so damn good at its job.

Though…there is one thing that scares the shit out of them. Soap.

Simon thought he was all big and bad,—intimidating,—until he met John “Soap” MacTavish.

Johnny is only around half its size, yet he manages to be even scarier than Ghost somehow. Which is wild, considering one of them looks like the damn grim reaper with that skull mask of theirs.

Simon may have a reputation for “the guy you don’t wanna mess with”, to the point where people won’t even bother with them.—But Soap’s got more than a few screws loose himself.

New recruits and others will at least approach him,—but with serious caution, and are careful to watch their mouths around him.

His anger is explosive, fitting, for a demolitions expert. A total loose cannon when he wants to to be. Some recruits even refer to him as “the psycho Scot” or "Ghost's guard dog". Titles he takes to with pride.

Johnny’s known for putting people in their place, and with every fight he’s ever gotten into,—he’s always won. Often sending his opponents to medical.

Most of the time though, he just has to look at someone and it scares them shitless. He’s mastered his death glare, and it even sends shivers up Ghost’s spine.

The man’s a total gym rat and health nut, nothing but muscle, and he trains the most of anyone Simon has ever seen. He’s naturally a reigning champ when it comes to hand to hand combat, and he even beats Simon to a pulp on the sparring mats most of the time. (Ghost may like him beating the snot out of him more than they than would like to admit…)

Soap is often used for interrogations, as he’s morally bankrupt just enough,—to where he’ll do just about anything to get answers out of someone. Whether it involves violence or not.

Simon has seen the sheer extent of the injuries sustained by the poor bastards that were stupid enough to challenge him, that pissed him off, or that he’s extracted information out of—and that was enough for Ghost.

Simon is a smart man, and knows when to pick his battles. Soap being the battle he most certainly knows NOT to pick.

Johnny is more lenient with Ghost than other people, and lets them get away more. But Simon’ll be damned if it ends up on the receiving end of Soap’s wrath.

I really like the idea of Soap being the dominating one in the relationship, but Ghost not being entirely submissive either.

Like Simon can and will be the one to put him in HIS place, and knock his ego down a few pegs if need be. Though still allows him his fun.

While Johnny relies on Ghost to let him know when he’s “too much”, and makes a point to let Simon have the control, at least every now and then.

Both try to be as respectful as possible of the other’s needs and desires, while also "maintaining their roles". But both are effectively switches, whether it's in the bedroom or not, and mainly put up this dom and sub act for other people and for their own amusement.

SOAP BEING JUST AS MENTALLY FUCKED AS GHOST MY BELOVED

thanks for coming to my Ted talk

[vigilskeep]

wait, Minerva "canonically" has a baby?? i want to know everything!! when how what - how does motherhood change her, pls elaborate, srry if you talked about this before, i just love them so much

she does!! i talk abt this less bc i think its self-indulgent jghsskks and that people are less interested in this, but it’s super fun to think about for me

the baby was a surprise, minerva was kind of being stupid about it lmao because she was being less careful than she might have been in the circle, especially because she’s a warden now so she’s less likely to get pregnant at all, without really thinking through what might happen. (i’m sure our local kinloch hold spirit healer companions both had their field days telling her off for this at some point.) but as soon as it does happen she wants the baby so badly. as a circle mage and then a warden she had never really seriously considered it a possibility for herself, but she loves children, and it’s been so long since she had a real family

it’s zevran’s and zevran is in antiva most of the time. i think she has a weird crisis about whether he’ll want anything to do with a baby, and she would despise for him to come back just out of obligation but also what if he doesn’t come back, and she ends up procrastinating telling him for, like, months. just a stupid amount of time. bc she was born to stress her man out and to give her wardens unnecessary grudges against him because they thought he had obviously chosen not to be here because obviously she would have told him. truly when will his suffering end. anyway he’s thrilled when somebody eventually does him the courtesy of letting him know

the baby’s a boy, she names him duncan, it sparks a whole other argument with alistair that we won’t get into here. he gets nicknamed junior a lot, partly bc he’s duncan jr, partly bc of the ongoing joke that he’s the resident Junior Warden. he was very much raised in warden blue since the cradle. because minerva is so busy and zevran is often away, he’s pretty much collectively raised in vigil’s keep by the awakening squad and whoever else gets added to that trusted inner circle. which works out bc wardens don’t often have kids of their own so they all just kind of... share this one lmao. (and possibly sometimes also oghren and felsi’s kid if they stick around?) it’s velanna who instigates this bc that’s what the dalish do and she’s also literally the only one here who knows what to do with a baby so thank the maker she’s here (minerva’s practised with kids but by nature they don’t have babies in the circle)

i’m so thrilled that spellblade is a crow-themed rogue-like mage subclass bc that’s exactly what i always pictured for duncan jr eventually. he’s a mage, his magic manifests very young, but minerva is very strict abt his studies and it has the unfortunate reverse effect of making getting his dad or nathaniel or sigrun to teach him combat much more fun. it works out really bc his magic having manifested is a tightly kept secret so it’s good for him not to have to rely on it

being a mother kind of changes/crystallises a lot of minerva’s priorities. it’s one thing to say, like, i would like to improve the situation for my fellow mages at some point, or, it sure would be nice to live past a warden’s usual limits. it’s another thing entirely to have a mage child and need to make a world that’s safe for him and live long enough to see it done. it ends up being a key issue of her conflict with the chantry between origins and inquisition because nobody’s quite certain what the rules are. obviously if she were still a circle mage any child of hers would be taken away. but she’s not a circle mage and arguably the chantry has no right to a child born outside of the circle, with no sign yet (as far as anyone outside vigil’s keep knows) of magic. (like i say it manifested younger than normal so this is believable even to those who think he will eventually show.) it definitely exacerbates tensions, shall we say, because obviously they can pry him out of her cold dead hands

he’s probably still only quite young in inquisition. six or seven? somewhere around there, i hate timelines. not sure where he is while minerva and her squad are on their quest, but given the very short list of people she trusts that much, i have to say that the most insane answer is likely: he’s in denerim as a temporary ward of the king. probably the first elven kid to be such

[machveil]

Has anyone brought to you the question of what type of car Konig drives? I can’t see him fitting in anything but a giant truck, but also the idea of him in a little VW Bug makes me wheeze. (Of course there’s always the third option of motorcycle, but that might just be because motorcycles are hot af)

OKAY ANON— you activated my brain and had me dig through a 300+ asmr playlist I have on YT for a very specific video so I’m going on a tangent and a half about this haha

I’ll start with the smallest thought portion because this is going to be long…

Retired!König strikes me as owning a motorcycle, first and foremost. he’s always liked the way they look, so now with a hefty savings account and ample free time, he’s decided this can be his retirement project. he could buy a new motorcycle, really treat himself, but this guy is a working man! he buys a beat up, ‘well-loved’ bike (even the seller was surprised someone was actually buying it)

even though Retired!König definitely has enough cash saved up to make the process of fixing the bike up fast… he doesn’t. he wants this to be a pastime he can keep up, even it means he can’t ride the bike for a long time. he’d order parts individually every week or so - smaller parts, maybe in batches. he’ll grab a beer, put on some music, open his garage, and let the neighbors have a show of him dismantling and breathing new life into this motorcycle

all in all, I think it takes Retired!König a year, a year and a half, to fully finish the bike (of his own volition). by the end it’s beautiful - new sleek paint, high end parts, the works. …he could possibly be so into it that Retired!König opens an actual garage shop and fixes up vehicles (mechanic!König anyone?). yeah, he’s retired, but having a hobby that makes you money? can’t say no to that, Maus

ANYWAYS, on to the meat and potatoes of this post

so, my beautiful, oh so smart anon, thank you for sparking my brain into remembering THIS VIDEO. you CANNOT tell me this isn’t König coded, the entire thing SCREAMS König to me (actually, the entire channel does, but I can only fangirl so much)

König owning a Jeep scratches my brain right - I’m not knowledgeable on cars/trucks, so if you think there’s a better off-roading/camping vehicle I will believe you 100%. also, I’m sorry, I’m watching the video as I’m writing this - König would definitely take his fluffy, little kitty camping with him. the guy in the video has a dog, but my cat dad propaganda will never stop

it doesn’t matter where or how old König is, he loves camping and immersing himself in nature - he needs a vehicle that can keep up with him. it started as a kid where he’d flee into the local woods after school or on weekends for alone time. he convinced his mama that he’d be okay if he camped out in the woods, and after one dinky camping trip he was sold. every chance he gets he’s off in nature - hiking, camping, he tried caving once but he was too big :( he liked the entrance to the cave though. he adores bird watching, definitely has high end binoculars. he’d buy a camera too, but he’d rather enjoy nature in the moment rather than fumbling to take a photo. König thinks that some things don’t need to be captured in a photo, it’s okay just sitting down experiencing it, just remembering it

so König enjoys having a vehicle that lets him get away from people, he doesn’t mind driving til he’s almost running on empty. he’d gladly drive out into the middle of nowhere just to sit down and take in nature. always carries a box of trash bags in his truck so he can pick up litter along the road. and, since his vehicle is what allows him to travel, he takes very good care of it

back to his Jeep, he decks it out like the guy in the video. when König camps he treats it as a ‘how long can I stay out here’ ordeal, or up until he has to go home for obligations. so König tries to maximize space, I’ll say it every time - König has a place for everything, he’s an organized king✨

I’m not going to lie, I’m just going to say look at the guy’s Jeep in the video. they way he has it set up is just how I imagine König’s Jeep - this guy has a net attached to the ceiling for supplies, I could see König bungee cording a cooler in the back (completely organized), I just have so many thoughts on König camping this is too much haha

I’m trying to stay focused on the car aspect, but like… camping with König :( I guess I could make that another post if people want to see that

I’m sorry the latter half was so all over the place, I tried to keep it simple and edit it down, but I couldn’t anyways… he definitely owns some type of car that can handle camping. I’m partial to this specific Jeep though, call me biased lol

I looked up that VW Bug and I’m SCREAMING, this poor man haha! he’d be so hunched over, anon, his poor back. König definitely loves the aesthetic/look of the VW Bug, but he’d rather deep clean his home than sit in that (which says a lot). if you own a cute little car he’d offer to drive you everywhere. he claims that he’s being a gentleman, that you shouldn’t have to lift a finger, but in actuality he just doesn’t want to sit in that cramped little vehicle. he’s so sorry, Maus, let him make it up to you by being his passenger princess?

[sinceaki]

You sit at the edge of the training mat, the soft hum of the fluorescent lights above doing little to chase away the shadows of frustration and exhaustion that cling to you. Gojo Satoru stands in the center of the room, effortlessly stretching after yet another sparring session that ended in your defeat. The room feels like it’s closing in, suffocating you with its silence and your own self-doubt.

“Not bad this time,” Gojo’s voice breaks through the silence, light and teasing, as he gives you a reassuring smile. “You’re getting there.”

But his words ring hollow. You look down at your hands, still trembling from the exertion, and feel the weight of his greatness pressing down on you. “Am I really?” you ask, your voice laced with bitterness.

Gojo steps closer, his playful expression fading as he notices the frustration in your eyes. He crouches down to your level, concern evident in his gaze. "What’s going on? You’ve been off for a while. You can talk to me, you know."

You take a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. "It’s just… I feel like I’m always falling short. No matter how hard I train or how much I push myself, I never feel like I’m getting any closer to being like you."

Gojo’s brow furrows. “You don’t have to be like me. That’s not what I want.”

You shake your head, the frustration bubbling over. “But I do. Because I feel like I’m not worthy of being by your side if I’m not. You’re Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer. And here I am, struggling just to keep up. What am I compared to that?”

Gojo watches you quietly, the usual playful spark in his eyes dimming. “You’re not supposed to be me,” he says softly. “You’re supposed to be you.”

“But being me doesn’t feel like enough,” you reply, your voice trembling. “I’m always losing. Not just against you, but against my own self-doubt. I keep trying, but nothing changes. I don’t feel like I’m ever really winning.”

Gojo is silent for a moment, his gaze searching yours. He then gently places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. "I know you feel like you’re not enough right now," he whispers. “But you are. You always have been.”

His touch is warm and grounding, and for a moment, you let yourself believe that maybe things will be okay. But deep down, the feeling of inadequacy lingers, a weight that you know won’t lift easily. You wish you could fully embrace his reassurance, but the shadow of doubt remains.

Gojo’s hand moves from your shoulder to gently brush away the tears that have started to fall. His eyes hold a soft, understanding look, his smile tinged with sadness. "Take your time," he says quietly. “I’ll be here, waiting.”

His words are a bittersweet comfort. You know he means it, that he’ll stay by your side even if you never feel worthy. Even if you continue to feel overshadowed by his brilliance.

You nod, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat. "Okay."

Gojo offers you his hand, a familiar gesture that’s always been a symbol of his support. You take it, standing up beside him once more.

In the end, you understand that this feeling might never fully go away. But with Gojo’s hand in yours, maybe you’ll find a way to stand beside him, even if you never feel like a winner.

[canadianfangirl-95]

Window of Opportunity 

Frankie Morales fanfiction x f! reader 

Summary: Years spent with the wrong guy leaves you desperate for true love and single again. Will Frankie be able to squeeze into the window of opportunity and confess his feelings, or will he miss his shot again?

Warnings: swearing, deadbeat boyfriend, talks of infidelity, drinking, friends to lover’s, fluff, kissing 

Picture is just for the banner, does not indicate readers appearance.

Word Count: 6k+ 

“Alright it’s Thirsty Thursday guys, what can I get you?” You say with a smile spread across your face, staring at your favourite customers and some of your best friends, Santi, Will, Benny and Frankie. They themselves have been coming into this bar for 6 years, after they were all discharged from the army and relocated to Fort Lauderdale. You’ve worked at this bar for almost 8 years now, having gotten the job in your mid-twenties to make some extra cash. It was only supposed to be temporary but here you are all these years later, still with an apron wrapped around your waist, a pen tucked behind your ear and shuffling around behind the old wood bar, illuminated by the neon beer signs. 

Santi offers you a kind wink as he settles onto the bar stool across from you, “Just a Rum and Coke sweetheart.” His effervescent smile shining as bright as always.  

Nodding, you begin to make the drink, while Benny and Will offer up their orders. Finally, Frankies sweet brown eyes meet yours and your lungs feel a bit lighter. “And what about our pilot?” you ask sweetly.  

He grins just enough for some of his teeth to peek out below his mustache and tucks his hand under his chin, “Surprise me Skip.”  

Smirking, you begin to whip him up your favourite and slide it over to him on the bar.  

Taking it, he smiles, “Should’ve guessed it’d be a Whisky Sour.” 

“Hey, pick your own drinks if you don’t like my favourite.” You say with a huffed laugh, knowing that despite them not being his type of drink, he’ll sip it down anyway. “How has your week been?” 

“Good, picked up Camila from JK on Monday so now she’s with me until next week Friday morning. She’s having some much-needed Abuela time right now.” 

“That’s good, everything still good with Liv?” You ask intently. 

He shrugs, “Yeah I’d say so, we’re doing pretty well at the whole coparenting thing now that negotiations are over.”  

You reach over and pat his hand that rests on the bar top, “Good, you’re a good dad Frankie. I’m glad you’re able to enjoy her again.”  

His ears and cheeks grow red, and his eyes soften, he whispers to you, “Thanks Skip, couldn’t do it without you.”  

Pulling your lips into a tight smile, you bat your lashes a bit to relax and turn your attention back to the rest of the group, “So, Will, how was the trip? Did you pick a venue?” 

Will nods, “Yeah, Orange County is really beautiful. It was tough picking just one place to have the wedding at, but we put a deposit down on a winery, so now we have a date which is great.” He says with a smile plastered across his face.  

“Oh, that’s great, Wendy must be so excited. Especially since it can be so close to her family.” You say before you notice the server drop down some chits on the other end of the bar. “Oh, I’ll be back guys.” You say before departing down the bar to work on the new orders.  

Later, you are standing cutting limes in front of the men, talking and laughing causally when the bell on the door chimes again. You look up, seeing your boyfriend Marcus step through the door and scan the room for you. The rest of the group turn their heads slightly to see what has caught your attention.  

Frankie grumbles to himself as he peers over his drink to see your boyfriend strutting towards the bar. His overbuilt muscles and $50 hair cut speak volumes about his personality. “Why’s Marcus here?” 

Will nudges his shoulder with a shush, Frankies eyes widen slightly realizing his voice was a tad bit higher than it should have been. Luckily for him, you had already moved down the bar towards Marcus. “He’s here to see his girlfriend, idiot. Why wouldn’t he be here?” Will says sarcastically.  

“He only visits her at work when he needs money.” Frankie states matter-of-factly under his breath.  

“That’s none of your business man, play nice.”  

With that Frankie rolls his eyes and stares Santi down the bar with an annoyed look on his face. Santi nods and takes his hint. Standing from the stool he calls over to you, “Hey Skip, we’re gonna be at the pool table.” The rest of them follow his lead and stand with their drinks to head over to the other side of the room.  

You nod and smile at them before turning your attention back to Marcus.  

“Why do they call you Skip anyway?” Marcus asks, leaning his body weight on the bar top.  

You shrug and smile to yourself, “One time, they were the only ones in the bar, like it was completely dead, and so we played Uno. The guys were such assholes every time it was one of their turns before me, they played a skip card. I swear I got every skip a turn card the whole night.” You say, laughing slightly until you see the utterly unamused face of your boyfriend staring back at your explanation. Swallowing your laughter quickly you clear your throat, “Um, and so yeah, they just call me Skip now because of uh…’cuz of that.”  

His face hangs low with uninterest, “Huh, guess you didn’t get many tips that night huh?” 

Pulling your face tight you reply, “No, I guess not.” 

“Does that happen often? Maybe you should find a different place to work where you can make more money.”  

“Um, no it doesn’t happen a lot. I think there was a storm that day.” You say quietly before stepping to the side to grab your wallet. “So, uh- how much did you say you needed for this football thing again?” 

He rolls his eyes exasperated, “Babe, it’s my fraternity brothers NFL fantasy league, it’s not just some football thing. And the buy in is $200.”  

Your eyebrows pop up, “Geeze, that’s kind of steep, isn’t it?”  

“It’s not about that, it’s about the networking I do with it, alright?” Marcus says. 

Nodding, you hand him the cash from your wallet, and he takes it with a giant smile, “Thanks babe, you’re the best you know that right?” He says before leaning across the bar and planting a kiss on your cheek.  

You say your goodbyes and wipe your sweaty hands on your jeans, letting out a deep breath you didn’t realize you were holding.  

Across the room, Frankie watches you fidget after your uncomfortable meeting with your boyfriend. He stands near the pool table holding his stick standing straight up and leaning some weight on it. “What is she still doing with that guy?” He asks the group. 

Benny huffs, “Wish I knew. Every time we hang out it’s always Marcus did this, and Marcus won’t do that. It’s like she’s his mom”  

Will steps up to the table and leans forward to take his shot, “He seriously doesn’t mind the two of you hanging out as much as you do?” 

“Nope, she even asked him before the first time we went to the movies if it was okay, and the guy is so fucking full of himself he said there’s no way she would ever find better than him, so he doesn’t worry about her cheating at all. In fact, one time he even thanked me for “listening to all her bull shit” so he doesn’t have to.” He says with air quotes and a sarcastic tone. 

Santi shakes his head, “What a dick. Why won’t she just end it with him?” 

Benny steps up to the red-felt pool table and eyes his shot that his brother has set up for him by accident. “Oh, she’s still holding out hope that he’ll man up and pop the question and then things will be better. Not gonna happen though, I think he’s cheating.”  

With that Frankie straightens up, “Why do you say that?” 

“He’s shady as shit, she works evenings and a lot of weekends, you think an asshole like that is really just waiting around for her watching Game of Thrones by himself every night?” 

“So, you don’t have any proof then?” Will comments. 

“Well, don’t tell her I told you this. But a few months ago, she got a DM from a girl that she knows, claiming he was hitting on her at a bar across town. But this girl knew Skip and recognized him from her social media, so she turned him down and messaged her. When Skip asked him about it, he said he wasn’t hitting on her, he was just trying to make some female friends, since you know, she has so many male friends.” he says, pointing around the pool table at the group of them and shaking his head at the obvious lie.  

They all groan in response and look over at you at the bar, working tirelessly to pay for yourself and your deadbeat boyfriends’ lifestyle. All the while he’s probably sneaking around behind your back and then dipping in to steal a kiss and some cash. 

 

Behind the bar, you stare blankly at the faucet on the sink, seeing your angled reflection in it. Your face looks sad, your eyes tired and your heart sunken. All you want, all you’ve ever wanted, was a relationship, an engagement, a marriage, a house and a family. It’s what you grew up in, it’s what your sister has. The white picket fence, the husband that kisses her at the door when he gets home, the two beautiful children she chases around all day. In your early twenties, it seemed like something that was guaranteed. Then it was just disappointing man after another until you finally found yourself on a date with Marcus 6 years ago. He was handsome and charming, and after a year you settled into a nice routine. But year after year you asked for a ring and never got one. One thing you could control was the house, so you saved everything you had to buy both of you one, thinking that would kickstart the conversation again. Yet here you are, a cold finger and your love for a man long gone, but 6 years too long invested in the relationship to bow out now.  

Grabbing a washcloth, you decide to take out your frustrations through cleaning up the bar top, using all the bent-up anger you felt towards your life to scrub off that damn stain you’ve never been able to get off. You peer up through your lashes and see the guys at the pool table, seemingly in deep discussion. You wonder if they’re shit talking your boyfriend. You wouldn’t blame them if they were, you wish you could join them. Frankie rounds the table and bends over to take his shot. His t shirt stretching across his broad shoulders, his curly locks peeking out from underneath the baseball hat you loved to see him in. Frankie, a man who actually talked about wanting a marriage one day but lost it all when his girlfriend fell in love with someone at work. He says they were mostly together for their child that they had accidentally gotten pregnant with and that he could move on. Not seeing his baby girl every day was by far the hardest part for him.  

Frankie was different than the others to you. Santi was your advice guy, always offering his words of wisdom. Will was your hands on guy. Need your breaks done on your car? Will’s got it. Need an Ikea cabinet put together? Will’s on it. Benny is your bestie, your movie and sushi date guy. Your talk shit about your boyfriend guy. But Frankie, Frankie is your if things were different guy. If you weren’t with Marcus, if he was ever even interested in you. Maybe, he could be something more, just by the way you talk so earnestly with one another, you knew he would never treat you the way Marcus does. And boy was he cute. You wish you felt bad when you would find yourself thinking about him late at night instead of your boyfriend laying a foot away from you. You figure after his failed relationship he is probably done with anything serious, maybe just date casually for the next few years and then settle down with someone as a companion. Surely, he wouldn’t be interested in learning about how lovesick you are over him and ruining your friendship and his favourite hangout-. 

A hand suddenly grabs yours to hold it still as you look up and see Frankie looking at you with concerned eyes. You look back down at the bar and see that during your whole internal monologue, you had still been scrubbing the stain and now the pain in your wrist was starting to register just how aggressive you were being with it. Pulling your hand out of his grip you toss the rag into the bucket and slowly rub your wrist with your hand, avoiding eye contact with the man across from you.  

He breathes deeply out of his nose and grabs some of the paper towel you have on the counter to wipe up the soap and water on the spot. He pulls a half smirk and looks at you, “Looks like you finally got that stain huh?”  

You peer over and see that it is indeed gone, certainly needed some elbow grease.  

“You okay?” he asks. The very last question you want to answer right now.  

Doing your best impression of a girl who is going to be okay, you nod and suck your teeth before muttering out, “Yeah, yeah just, - really fucking hated that stain.”  

Frankie can see the tears that want to spill over your eyes, knowing you the way he does, he knows very well that you do not want to lose it right there behind the bar. “Alright well, could I get another delicious Whisky Sour please?” he says with a boyish grin on his face. 

Looking up at him through your lashes you let out a chuckle, “I thought you didn’t like them.”  

“People change.” He states.  

His words dry your throat, and you do your best to nod and go on making his drink. Hoping his statement to be true.  

The night wears on and you say your goodbyes. You close up shop and head home to Marcus, playing every moment of the night through again in your head and hoping to make that people change statement a reality, whether it be you or Marcus.  

Sunday is your day off, and you and the guys planned a backyard BBQ at Will and Wendys to commemorate the end of summer. 

Frankie steps through the patio doors into the backyard. A red and white striped umbrella is stretched out over the patio table and chairs where Santi is seated comfortably talking with Wendy while Will works on the grill. He moves to sit down across from Santi and says hello to everyone.  

Wendy excuses herself to go work on the salad for dinner, and Frankie stares at the door she exits through, hoping you may come through it. Alas, you still don’t show up after another ten minutes, so he turns to Santi. 

“When are uh, Ben and Skip getting here?” Frankie asks, urging his voice to sound less eager than it does.  

Santi gives him a knowing look, “Ben told Will yesterday they may be a bit late cuz Ben had to go out of town this afternoon to pick up some stuff from their moms, she went with him for the drive.”  

Frankie nods and brings his cold beer to his lips, excited at the notion that Marucs won’t be joining them after all.  

A half hour later, Frankie, Santi and Will are seated at the patio table as Wendy finishes up in the kitchen. Their attention is pulled from their conversation when they hear Bennys boisterous voice call out to her as he moves through the kitchen and to the sliding patio door.  

“No Skip?” Santi calls out, as he notices Bennys lonely walk towards them. Frankie and Will look up from their plates of appetizers to observe your apparent absence for themselves. 

The younger man has a surprisingly pleased look on his face as he slides into the chair next to Will. “You’re never gonna believe this. They broke up.” He states with excitement burning behind his eyes.  

The group looks perplexed for a beat, Will asks to clarify “Who broke up?” 

“Skip and Marcus.” Benny says, popping his eyebrows up and down and nudging Frankie’s shoulder.  

Frankie’s eyes blow wide, unable to believe what he was hearing. His ears ring and before he knows it, he’s lost part of the conversation, gripping his beer bottle tighter he tries to focus on the flow of questions coming Bennys way from Will and Santi. 

Santi leans forward on the glass tabletop, “What happened?” 

“She finally had enough. I guess she tried to talk to him again last night about getting engaged and just like all the other times, he made up shitty excuses, so she dumped him right there on the spot. Took all her shit and is staying with her sister right now until they get the house sold and her money back. She called me this morning to tell me she couldn’t come today.” 

“How’s she doing? She okay?” Will asks, concern growing in his voice.  

Shrugging, Benny replies, “As good as she can be, I think. They were together a long time, and she feels like it was all wasted. He’s such a jackass.” He says before shoving some chips from a bowl on the table into his mouth. 

Will glances at Frankie, “So Fish, girl of your dreams finally single. What do you think about that?”  

His eyebrows almost get caught in his hair line and he stutters, “I uh- what. Don’t know what you’re talking about Will.” he says, trying to slurp down his beer before he puts his foot in his mouth instead. 

Shaking his head he dives deeper, “Don’t give me that shit man, we owe nothing to that guy. You’ve always liked her, you’ve been respectful, but now she’s fair game.”  

Santi nods along, “Yeah, we all know man. It’s pretty obvious.” 

Benny and Will nod along to Santis’ statement as Frankie looks around flabbergasted. “Seriously? Does she know?” 

“Nah, I don’t think so. She’s been too caught up in her own shit to notice.” Benny confirms.  

“But now’s the time to make a move, alright? Don’t let the window of opportunity close. Girls like that don’t stay single long.” Santi comments, giving Frankie a stern look.  

Frankie nods, “I can’t just ask her out the day after her relationship ended, she needs time to process this. I don’t want to be a rebound. I’ll let her sell the house, get her shit together, and then I promise I’ll talk to her.” He says defensively.  

“You better, because I’m not listening to her complain about another shitty boyfriend for half a decade.” Benny says, tapping his hand on the table and peering up at the sky, thinking about all the nights he’s had to hear you cry about how Marcus wouldn’t commit to you, even your house was bought by you, him not wanting to invest too much of his savings in case it didn’t work out between the two of you.  

“I don’t think any of us want to see her go through that again, and Frankie man, you’d be perfect together. I hope it works out for you.” Will says, reaching over to pat Frankie on the chest.  

Frankie nods, “How do I do this without looking like a total jackass who just wants to take advantage of her vulnerable state though?” he asks inquisitively.  

Santi shakes his head, “Frankie, Frankie, always counting yourself out before you get in the game. Any girl would be lucky to get a man like you, just have some faith in yourself alright?” 

Before they can continue the conversation, Wendy waltzes up to the table with salads in tow. “Alright everybody, time to dig in.” 

Thursday comes around again; you have switched shifts with the other bartender for a very exciting reason. Each of the guys had reached out in their own ways after they got the news on Sunday, simple texts and calls here and there, all trying to be as delicate as possible. 

Skipping through the door, you make your way over to the booth the guys are situated at. Santi spots you first and gestures to you for the rest of the group to turn and look. They all grin when they see your smile, your hair done exactly how you like it best, a white sundress with brown flowers and brown sandals finishing off the look. Frankies eyes light up seeing your sunny appearance and blossoming self-confidence.  

“Whoa, what are you all dressed up for?” Santi whistles, taking in your ensemble. 

Smiling brightly, you stand in front of the booth and state, “I have a date.”  

Their faces drop entirely, and Frankie can swear you could hear his heart fall to the floor and roll down between the booths like a child dropping candy in church.  

Will is the first to pick his jaw up from his chest and stutter out, “A date?”  

Nodding you reply, “Yep, I’m meeting him soon for drinks and appetizers but I needed to swing by here first for my pay cheque.”  

Santi waves his hands casually in the air as he formulates a question. “Don’t you think that’s a little soon, I mean, you and Marcus broke up last week.”  

“I know, I know trust me I’ve heard it already from my sister. But I’m not really grieving the relationship ‘cuz to be honest, I fell out of love with Marcus a long time ago, but I just had already invested all that time and energy, so I wanted to make it work. But, since he’s a total asshat, I have now had no choice but to move on and there’s no time like the present. I don’t want to have wasted 6 years with him and then 6 months waiting for the “right time” to start dating again and then another 2 years trying to meet the right person.” You take a deep breath, trying not to get too worked up over your current situation and pinch your eyes closed for a moment. “I just want…. All I’ve wanted this whole time is a marriage and a family and I’m frankly running out of time. So, I hopped on the dating apps and met this guy Sean, and now we’re going on a first date and then I guess we’ll see what happens from there.” You finish your sentence out of breath and out of options. If Marcus wasn’t your person, and you were too scared to see if Frankie would be interested in you, then this would have to do. 

Frankie can’t believe his ears. He’s already missed the window of opportunity. You’re going to go on a date with this guy, he’s going to fall madly in love with you, because how could he not and whether you like him or not, you’ll stay with him another 6 years just like Marcus. You just want it so badly, that you’ve grown careless with your heart. His stomach is turning in his seat as he tries not to look at Santi, whose eyes he can feel burning into him with a plea to stop this madness.  

The uncomfortable silence finally creeps through your skin and makes you eager to leave. Their shocked and unapproving faces with no acknowledgement of what you have said has you unsettled and honestly kind of annoyed. Looking over your shoulder, you spot your manager and nod to her briefly. “Well, um, I’m gonna go get my cheque and then head out.” Turning quickly, you miss the way their heads all spin to Frankie whose mouth still lay low.  

Benny finally speaks once you are out of ear shot, “What the fuck?” He throws his hands into his hair and looks around the table dumbstruck.  

Will is shaking his head and chewing his bottom lip, Santi is still looking at Frankie as if trying to use secret superpowers to control his body and make him rush after you. Frankie is silent, picking at the label on his cold beer as the condensation loosens the adhesive on the fish picture laden across the front.  

Santi finally breaks his stare and leans in closer, “You gonna do anything about this Fish?” 

Frankie shrugs, “Nothing I can do. You heard her, she’s moving on.”  

“From Marcus, not from you.”  

“Same difference.” He sighs, blowing all the air and joy out of his lungs.  

Shaking his head Santi straightens up in his seat. “No, it’s not the same man. She has no idea you have feelings for her and I’m willing to bet if you told her to cancel that date, she would in a heartbeat.” 

Shaking his head he sighs, “You don’t know that man, what if I fall flat on my face with her. There’s no going back.”  

Will leans his elbows on the table, “Fish, you gotta start believing in yourself more. I know what happened with Liv was really hard on you but-,” 

“But it wasn’t.” Frankie states. Upon being met with the confused eyes of his comrades he continues with shaky breathes, “It wasn’t hard. I liked Liv, felt something similar to love at times when it was easy, but it wasn’t hard when she left, because she wasn’t Skip.” His voice trails off with his confession.  

The familiar sound of your sandals hitting the hard wood floors snaps the group out of their trance, they turn to look at you with desperate eyes, unsure what to say as you stop for a beat in front of them.  

“Alright well, got my cheque.” You say awkwardly, raising the envelope up slightly in your hand. “You guys have a good night.” You tuck your chin down and don’t wait for their goodbyes. They’re being completely weird after all, gawking at you with open mouths like it’s the worst mistake of your life to go on this date.  

Stepping through the bar door you’re hit with the humidity of a late summer night. The sun was already setting leaving a low glow across the sky. You stand for a second, squeezing your eyes and urging the thoughts of Frankie out of your mind in an effort to stop the trickle of tears that would surely flow if you let yourself convince yourself that this wasn’t a mistake. Convince yourself you should go back in that bar and put it all on the line, even if it meant you’d fall with no safety net and lose him for good. That just wasn’t your style though, you didn’t free fall, you didn’t trust the universe. You needed certainty, and right now, the only certainty was that there was a handsome guy, who actually expressed interest in you waiting at a different bar, ready and willing to give you a shot. Taking one last look over your shoulder, you let your breath out and head to your vehicle.  

Frankie and the guys sit in silence, unsure what to do now. He watched as you left, desperate to follow and grab your wrist to spin you around and plant a seething kiss to your luscious lips.  

Benny takes a deep breath in and out, settling his head against the back of the booth. “That girl, Frankie, is worth the ifs, ands or buts. You know that, I know that, and I’m willing to bet she would agree.” 

Before Frankie can respond, the bartender that is covering for you, Tasha, hurries up to the table with a black notebook in hand. “Hey, did she leave already?” 

Santi nods, “Uh, yeah just. Why what’s up?” 

Tasha huffs, “She forgot her day planner again, would one of you be able to drop it off? I know she needs it before her next shift.” She asks. 

Frankie clears his throat and nods, “Yeah, no problem, Tash I’ll get it to her.” He says, leaning forward and taking the book out of her hands.  

She says thank you and swiftly heads back to the bar to greet the hoard of customers who have just stumbled through. 

Frankie stares absentmindedly at the worn book, pages from old day planners ripped out of their books and stuffed into this one instead of rewriting all the phone numbers and addresses you have in it. Quietly he passes it back and forth in his hands, a million thoughts running through his mind when it slips and falls down onto the table, some of the pages slipping out and exposing themselves in front of him. The guys look on with confused faces as Frankies face falls while he reads one of the faded and crinkled pages in front of him.  

Santi is the first to express his interest, “What’s that?” 

Taking a deep gulp, he picks up the piece of paper to examine it closer. Upon being sure that it says what he thinks it says, he slowly turns it around and slides it into the middle of the table for the guys to read. They all lean in and fall silent to see what has their friend so shocked.  

Frankie 555-666-7777 

baseball hat  

bar 

cutest guy ever?  

Update to self- definitely cutest guy ever 

He looks down at the book on the table, and thinks to himself, would it be wrong to go through it. Yes, it definitely would be, but he has to know if there’s anything else you’ve written about him it.  

Before the guys can get their “heys” and waits” out, he is opening up the cover and sifts through the pages. His ears start to ring as week after week contain the same notations. 

Lunch with Frankie <3 

Taking Frankie shopping to get news boots <3 

Borrowing Frankies truck <3 

No hearts beside Bennys name, Santis, Wills, or even Marcus’. He keeps flipping through the disheveled pages until he finds himself at the end of the book where the note pages are. “Fuuuck me.” Comes out of his mouth quietly as his whole world begins to spin, seeing a daily checklist you wrote out for yourself.  

Getting through the day, one step at a time. 

drink your water  

eat one vegetable, spinach dip doesn’t count 

do your morning Pilates, even though you hate it 

talk to Frankie <3 

He drops the book ceremoniously for the others to peer over and read as well. A grin spreads across Wills face as he pats Frankie's shoulder. “Alright man, no more excuses. What are you gonna do now?”  

Staring straight ahead with a sense of determination and wonder Frankie mutters, “I’m gonna go get my girl.” 

“Yeah!” Benny sounds as the others clap along and smile with Frankie.  

He thinks for a second, “Shit, did she say where she’s going?” he asks in a panic. 

Santi’s eyebrows pop up, “Oh, check todays date in the planner.” He says, pointing back to the book, seemingly the solution to all their problems that night.  

Frankie points his finger at his friend to acknowledge his good idea before grabbing the weathered book back into his hands and flitting through the pages to today’s date. He scans the week to Thursday and taps the page when he finds the notation. “9pm drinks with Sean, The Green Door.” He smirks to himself at the notice of no heart once again.  

“Green Door? That’s over on Park Street, right?” Benny asks. 

Will nods, “Yeah like a 5-minute drive, you better get going man.”  

Letting a deep breath out Frankie blinks quickly, “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Okay.” He pushes past Santi in the booth and quickly pats his pockets to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. “Okay, I uh, I guess here I go.”  

“Go get her Fish!” Santi calls as Frankie begins to step away. Before Frankie suddenly finds himself turning in his spot and standing desperately back at the booth. 

“What the fuck am I supposed to say?” He asks with eyes wild.  

Benny scoffs, “Just say whatever you’ve been practicing in your head for the last 6 years and I’m sure it will be fine. Now go or I’ll kick your ass!” He swats at him playfully.  

With that Frankie gives them one last look of gratitude and jogs out the bar towards his truck, throwing it in gear and peeling out of the parking lot as quickly as the law will let him.  

After leaving work, you stop at a gas station to fill your tank. Standing at the pump you lean against the cool metal of your car and sigh. This new chapter of your life was daunting to say the least, no matter how optimistic you tried to feel about it, no matter how many fake smiles you had to put on for your sister, no matter how many cute guys messaged you on the app. You hear the click of the full tank signal and finish up, sliding back into your car and putting on some Taylor Swift to hopefully boost your mood on the drive over.  

Stepping out of your car, you look up at the neon sign above the green door. Sean had texted you on the drive over that he was there and grabbed a quiet table at the back. You smooth out your sundress to make sure it’s not sticking to the back of your thighs, thank you humidity and leather seats for that, and make your way over to the entrance.  

You hear the sound of a vehicle door slamming shut heavily and then the sound of boots sprinting against the pavement just as you are about to pull at the handle.  

“Skip wait!” 

Turning you look back and see none other than Frankie jogging up the sidewalk towards you nearly out of breath.  

“Frankie? What are you doing here?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowed as you peer over his shoulder to see if he is alone.  

Stopping in front of you he tries to catch his breath, “You can’t, - you, - you can’t go on this date.” He stutters out, trying to pull his shoulders square as he calms himself down.  

Feeling utterly bewildered by his statement you ask, “Why not?” 

He takes a deep breath and stares down directly into your soul. “You can’t because, well, I’m in love with you.”  

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your face and your breath hitches, unable to speak.  

He continues, noticing your shock. “I know, I know. This is probably not something you expected, because I’ve done my best to keep it locked away while you were with Marcus, and I was with Liv. But you’re not with him anymore, and I was never in love with Liv. I couldn’t have been, not when you were already taking up so much room in my heart. My heart is split right down the middle. It’s Camila, and it’s you. Has been for years now, there’s just no room for anyone else right now.” Gesturing to the green door beside you he continues. “This guy, I’m sure he’s nice or whatever, but I know you. I know you better than I know myself and I just, I love you. I do, and I’m not a hundred percent sure what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours, but I just need you to know, before you meet someone else. Before I miss that damn window of opportunity.” 

Taking a big gulp of air he finishes, looking down and embarrassed at his confession, fearing to look you in the eyes and see nothing but pity.  

“Frankie.” You whisper.  

He looks up to meet your gaze, and his heart thumps harder in his chest when he sees the tears welling up in your eyes and the way you have to bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from breaking into the biggest smile he’s ever seen.  

Clearing your throat, you find the courage to speak. “I love you too Frankie.” You say, finally allowing the smile to crack your cheeks.  

Frankie's grins goofily and his eyes light up, “Really? Since when?” 

Shrugging you admit, “Since I fell out of love with Marcus. So, years ago.”  

“Huh, never thought I’d want to thank that son a bitch for being such a useless boyfriend.” He jokes.  

You giggle and nod before noticing his face has suddenly changed into something of longing and he inches closer to you.  

Bringing his hands to your warm arms, he slides them up and down and looks down earnestly at you. “Can I kiss you baby?” he whispers.  

Looking into his deep brown eyes you part your lips and nod, “Yes, Frankie, please. I’ve waited too long for this.”  

He slowly leans down, his hands trailing up your arms to cup your face before gently pressing his lips to yours. His lips are plush and soft and move with such care. You bring your hands to his back and pull him slightly closer. He grins before encapsulating your mouth again in a seething kiss, poking his tongue through your teeth to lick into you. A moan vibrates through your throat.  

Before you can really get out of hand, a sound of “Whoops” and cheers sounds from the parking lot beside you and you both break to turn to look at the commotion. A large black truck with Will, Benny and Santi hanging out of the windows and sunroof with devilish grins on their faces is what your shocked and embarrassed faces are met with.  

“Oh gosh.” You laugh to yourself as you turn your body into Frankie's, he instinctively pulls you in close and wraps an arm around your back to shield you from the eyes of your obnoxious friends.  

“Seriously guys? Can’t you let me do anything on my own?” He calls over to them with his free hand raised. 

Santi laughs and retorts, “Had to make sure you didn’t bitch out man! Looks like we came at the right time though otherwise we would’ve been picking you two up from the jail for public indecency.”  

Will and Benny laugh before Benny calls out, “Alright guys, I think we’ve embarrassed them enough. We’re going back to my place for pizza if you two love birds wanna join.” 

You peel your face off Frankie's warm and firm chest and shrug, “I could go for some pizza.” 

He smiles and nods, before taking your chin in his fingers and pulling you closer for one more sweet kiss. “Sounds good to me, I’ll meet you there, okay?” he says once he has sufficiently sucked the smile off your face. 

“Okay.” You say and break apart from his hold. He swiftly takes your hand and walks you to your car, opening and closing the door behind you with a boyish smile on his face.  

You settle into your car and watch him as his tight little butt saunters over to his truck. You bite your lip before pulling out your phone and bringing up your messages. 

Sean: Hey just checking if you’re alright. 

You: Hey, I’m so sorry, I’m gonna have to cancel. Something came up, and I don’t think it’s gonna work out between us. It was nice chatting with you. Have a good night.  

Your phone pings before you put it back in your purse, you’re expecting it to be a disappointing text from Sean, but your eyes light up when you see the name on the notification.  

Frankie: *photo of the checklist in your day planner* 

Getting through the day, one step at a time. 

drink your water 

eat one vegetable, spinach dip doesn’t count 

do your morning Pilates, even though you hate it 

talk to Frankie <3   kiss Frankie <3  

Check! 

[formulahs]

when the piastri podcast came out i could not find anyone expressing the same feelings i had - i felt like it was not my place to see/know about? i kept wondering if oscar had agreed to it and how much control he had over the narratives- and surely he must have you know, i'm not claiming he's not comfortable with that, but it all felt so personal to me and i had a hard time feeling ok with consuming that content. ms piastri seems like a great person and mom so no hate but i just felt so confused over the whole thing- felt like those dinners where your mom starts telling stuff about you to people you barely know and you're just there like 🧍 mildly uncomfortable through it all except it's on the internet for the whole world to have opinions about and it felt wrong for me to also be a part of that yk (no one seemed to think anything of so i just assumed i was the abnormal one ha) anyways. thanks for your content btw your blog is always a+ chef kiss 🫶

thats the exact feeling like that one teenage canonical experience where your mother is just detailing your life to strangers to get 30 seconds of laughter out of them, and something about her tone really seems deliberately aimed at “hes weird but look he can be normal” like girl. why. its one thing to be a bit of a cuckoo boy mom at dinner with neighbors but like in a podcast with projection when ur kid is out there getting global exposure every weekend like WHY. there’s literally no need to. im sure he’ll live and he probably doesn’t resent it in any meaningful way but its just the kind of thing his pr should put a stop to, and mainly for HER own good bc along with his sisters they’re the most vulnerable end of being exposed to media and fans yk

also tnxxx ur sweet 🤍🤍

[daydreamerdrew]

The Hulk! (1978) #26

[swordsandholly]

Thinking about a mechanic!AU where the 141 boys run a garage and need a new receptionist. They hire you because you’re just so cute (great tits) and have a decent resume but it becomes a slight problem when they realize you’re a bit… dense.

Total ditz to be precise.

But they can’t really get mad when you get the keys for clients mixed up and look at them with those big eyes all teary and a little pout pushing out your lower lip.

Price is the most patient, perfectly content to walk you through how to file paperwork and fill out forms. Instructing you in a low voice while his breath brushes the shell of your ear. It’s really their fault for having such a terrible system, you know? Don’t worry about it too much, dove. He’ll settle his big hands on your shoulders and gently trace up and down your arms. See? You’re getting it. Just needed some more practice, hm?

Johnny is more than happy to show you around the garage, rattling off everything he knows about all those nitty gritty details that go right over your pretty little head. He’ll pop open the hood of some sports car and point to the engine to show it off. No, bonnie, you’ve got tae get in close. Closer.

Until you’re bent entirely over in one of those too-short skirts you wear everyday. It takes all his willpower not to yank you into the supply closet.

Gaz is just so sweet to you. Always bringing you little treats and candies to suck on. To help you concentrate, of course. Always greeting you with a soft ‘baby girl’ at the beginning of your shift. Whenever you’re standing around be it at the printer or counter - wherever really - he’ll slip a hand on your waist. It always trails a little lower, his pinky just edging on the hem of your too tight jeans.

Ghost gets frustrated with you to the point of causing tears to well up in the corners of your eyes. He’s feels guilty, sure, but bloody hell just print the damn receipt. He avoids you for the most part. Until one evening when it’s pouring down. You forgot your rain coat of course, silly girl. He offers you a ride which you take happily.

After that he can’t get rid of you. You bring him coffees (how you remember his order word for word but not where you last left your own cup is beyond him) and giggle at his jokes. When a client gets too snappy or too loud he’s the first to step in - standing behind you glaring at them with his huge arms crossed over his chest until they back down.

[luveline]

Jade can I please get a chatty af yapper sunshine girlfriend with Sirius?? Like May be someone tells her she talks a lot so she's super quiet around him cuz she's worried he'll get annoyed and break up with her but poor Sirius he misses his chatty girl and just angst with fluff

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k

James Potter means well. Honestly, you don’t think he has a mean bone in his body, so you try not to take it to heart. 

Unfortunately, your attempts to do so don’t work. They really, unquestionably don’t. By the time you’re outside of Sirius’ flat that afternoon, James’ small comment is all you can think of. 

“You’re so chatty I’m surprised you don’t run out of breath,” he’d said. Not without love. You’d bumped into him in Sainsbury’s and ended up talking for ages about one thing or another, you know him well, you’d even say you were friends, though he’s of course Sirius’ friend rather than your own. “But I’m the same. God, Sirius used to hate how much I talked, he’d be sick of me. I think I numbed him to it over the years.” 

You can’t imagine it. Sirius and James are best friends. With Remus, they’re the most in love threesome of friends you’ve ever met, and it’s nice; it makes you very proud to have a boyfriend who cares for others as deeply as Sirius cares for them. It’s like a constant demonstration of how he’s a good man. 

But you’d never stopped to consider that they weren’t always so seamless, and you’ve regrettably never considered that your constant talking is something that could put him off. 

You talk to Sirius about everything. There isn’t a word to describe the excitement of having someone waiting to listen to you every single night. You could tell him every detail of a day down to what colour socks you wore and you know he’ll sit there listening with his hand on the small of your back, or his fingers twined between yours. You’ve never felt so loved as to be able to just talk about everything and have him talk back. 

But… what if, this whole time, he’s been wishing for a little bit of quiet? 

What if eventually, the talking becomes too much? 

He must be with you for a reason. You aren’t holding the poor guy hostage, he acts like he’s mad for you ninety percent of the time (while the other ten percent is spent sleeping on your shoulder). 

Like now —you knock his door and you can hear him scrambling up from the sofa, the sound of a book dislodged or a remote hitting the rug, you’re not sure. The door yanks open and Sirius smiles at you, pulling you in through the gap with a familiar hand on your hip. 

“Hey,” Sirius says, tucking you against his side, “hey, did you get lovelier over the weekend?” He shoves the door closed and gives you a hug with one arm, pausing in the hall. “Sorry I couldn’t see you. I don’t think we should miss another weekend.” 

You have a lot to tell him. It’s been ages since you spent nearly three days apart, but James’ conversation stays at the front of your mind. 

You decide to be less overwhelming, but not less loving, curling your arm behind his head to pull his cheek down for a kiss. “I don’t think so, either.” 

Sirius tilts his head away from you in an invitation for more kissing. 

You’re at home in his flat. You take off your shoes and hang up your jacket. You change into a pair of jogging bottoms with loose legs and let him hoist you onto his bed for a few stolen kisses, though he isn’t propositioning you, and you end up laying across his bedspread with one of your legs in his lap as he tells you about his days without you, his thumb sliding with pressure down your calf. 

“Mostly I wished I’d asked you to come over anyways, even if it was just to sleep together at the end of the day. Maybe next time we can do that?” he asks. 

“Of course we can.” You smile at him indulgently. “I’d come over for twenty minutes if it was all I could get.” 

“Or I can come to you,” he says, “even if it’s just twenty minutes.” 

He smiles, a beaming thing, and leans down slowly for a soft kiss. 

“So,” he asks, his breath on your lips, “how was your weekend? Lonely?” 

“So lonely,” you tease lightly, eyes fluttering closed as he continues his massaging of your leg. “But it was okay. I missed you, really, and didn’t do much else.”

“No?” he asks. 

Your voice takes on a shine as he squeezes your knee, “Missed your hands.”  

“I missed your everything.” He grabs for your forearms and pulls you into a sitting position. “But everything was okay?” he asks more seriously. 

“Everything was fine.” 

He raises his eyebrows, but eventually lets them relax. “Well, okay. Good, sweetheart, I’m glad it was okay.” 

He persuades you into the kitchen to sit with him as he makes dinner, refusing to let you help, and yet insisting you be there in the same room, as though you’d like to be anywhere else. Sirius makes your favourite of his usual rotation, offering you spoonfuls for tasting, gaps of silence stretching as he struggles to find new conversation. You start answering his questions but remember time and time again that Sirius could become totally sick of you. He might already be. 

Sirius puts the food on a low heat and washes his hands. He wipes them dry, but when he takes your face, dampness lines the inside of his fingers. 

“I’d like for you to tell me what’s wrong,” he says gently, stroking at the line of your startled frown, “before it gets worse. Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Nothing’s wrong.” 

“Please don’t, lovely. If I’ve done something wrong, please tell me. I want us to last forever, and we can’t do that if you won’t tell me when I upset you.” 

“It wasn’t you,” you say instinctively, then regret it. 

“So someone has?” he asks, still so gentle as his hands coast down your neck like he’s sculpting you, coming to rest on the slopes leading to your shoulders. “You can tell me anything. You don’t have to keep it to yourself… please.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Sweetheart.” He frowns deeply. Couldn’t look more upset. “Of course I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

You chew it over, not wanting or willing to cause ructions between Sirius and his oldest friend. “Well, I saw James today at the shop, and… we were talking about you…” 

He waits. “And?” 

“And he told me you– you don’t like talking. That you didn’t like talking, that James used to make you sick of it. So I know I talk too much and you’ve never made me feel like I shouldn’t, but I guess I got into my head thinking you’d get sick of me, too.” 

“When we were younger I didn’t like much of anything.” He curls an arm behind your neck to hold you in place, but it’s not a dominant sort of movement, only protective as your noses inch together. “Did you ever read that poem by Bukwoski? Let It Enfold You?” 

“What?” 

“I’m not very good at explaining myself. I thought if you knew the poem, you’d–” He laughs near your cheek. “I hated everything. It wasn’t James’ fault. He did make me sick of it sometimes, but I just wanted to hide from everything.” He breathes out slowly. “I’ve never wanted to hide from you. I can’t get sick of you. Do you get that? I can’t get sick of you. Listening to you is the best part of my day, you’re my personal chatterbox.” 

“Chatterbox,” you repeat teasingly. 

“You could talk for Wales,” he says. “And I love it, I don’t want you to stop, because I’ll never be sick of it.”

“I don’t want it to be some secret resentment.”

“I don’t resent you for anything. I knew exactly who you were when we met and I love it.” He takes your face again. “I love it,” he repeats. 

You steal a little kiss against the corner of his lips. “What was the poem?” you ask. 

“I’ll find my book, and you can read it to me. What do you think?” He takes a slow kiss as you had in the same place, words like honey. “I miss your voice.” 

He’s basically pleading. It’s not like Sirius to plead, but you pull it out of him. 

“Can I have my dinner first?” 

“The one I made while you deprived me?” he asks. “Yes, if you must.” 

He takes another kiss, but you’re happy to give it. 

[lucilleslore]

coriolanus snow with a wife who’s just a little bit spoiled. who’s just a little bit of a brat. who likes to spend his newly acquired money just as much as he does. who can’t be told the word no ever. who always has the newest clothes, the prettiest jewels. who has whole rooms in the mansion dedicated to her pretty things. she’s got exquisite taste, a capitol jewel all in her own right with the way she sets trends, the way she commands attention.

and you’ve always got his. your coryo, your president. who comes home in the evening and happily watches you try on all your new things. who’s eyes glint with hunger when you show him your new lingerie or your new satin slips for bed. he practically starts drooling, shifting his hips uncomfortably until you drop down to your knees, crawling towards him on all fours because of course you have to thank your provider. have to take care of him for working so hard just so you can have pretty things :(

he’s riveted by you. by those doe eyes and pouty lips and the cute scrunch you get between your brows when you don’t get what you want right away. never did coriolanus think he’d be brought to his knees by love of all things or even if he did he thought he’d be with someone docile, pliant who lives to please him but with you it feels like it’s reversed. when you start palming him through his slacks, blinking prettily up at him; he has to admit that he’ll keep you forever, no matter what it takes.

‘i’m obsessed with you,’ he’d murmur under his breath. he thumbs at your bottom lip, over and over again as if under a spell. you’re only half paying attention; hands wandering over his zipper to get his cock out, mind wandering to how good you look in that shade of blue and what else you can get in that colour. you hum, leaning forward to press a wet kiss to the leaky head of his dick. you ignore the way coryos hips buck, the way his head tips back. ‘there’s this new bag i’m obsessed with. it’s so beautiful coryo, you have to see.’

‘you can have it baby.’ the words come out broken as you take him into your mouth and he can’t help but chuckle darkly after at the way your eyes light up, the way you moan around him and the way your thighs tense together. spoiled brat, getting off on getting her own way. coryo forgets about it all though when you take him deeper, saliva starting to drip down your chin and he likes it when you get like this. so appreciative and grateful, showing him what a good girl you really are.

‘there’s something else i want,’ you say sweetly, eyes flickering between coryos baby blues and the hot length of him in your hand, wet from your mouth. now it’s you who’s drooling, eyes practically begging him to fuck you. you’re sliding your underwear to the side needily, fingers already playing with your puffy clit.

‘you can have that too,’ coryo agrees, hands already there to grip you when you scramble onto his lap. you’re immediately lining yourself up over him, whining when his tip slips inside. ‘you can have all of it.’

[gloomwitchwrites]

secret baby trope with tf141? 😌😌

Anon! OH. MY. GOOOOOD. I love this. I love this. I love this. Secret baby? Yes, please. I adore this trope. I bow down to you for requesting this. I don't know who you are but I wish that I did. I can absolutely get behind a secret baby trope. I actually read a book recently that was a bit like that and I enjoyed it so so much.

I had an absolute blast putting this one together. Seriously. You totally indulged me here. Thank you!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, stalking, possessive behavior, second chances, pregnancy / unplanned pregnancy, parenthood, reunions, light angst

Word Count: 2.3k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle relaxes further into the couch. The air around him is slightly smoky.

He brings his vape to his lips and takes a hit. The action is calming, and that’s exactly what he wants. Kyle is rotting, and it feels fucking good.

Between missions, Kyle is always somewhere, but right not there is no reason for him to do anything. He can relax. He can watch reality television, eat himself to sickness, and wank off until his wrist hurts.

It’s bloody fucking brilliant.

Kyle isn’t attached. He has no kids. The only responsibility required of him is the one he has to himself. Which is why he’s splayed out on the couch in nothing but grey sweatpants and his vape. The television is on, and the volume is low. It’s mostly for background noise. Kyle isn’t really paying attention to it.

With a vape in one hand and his phone in the other, Kyle scrolls through his contacts. There are all the usual people there, but there are also a slew of general acquaintances and a long list of people he’s had it off with but never took anything further.

He pauses at one name, and old memories resurface.

They just happen upon him. Kyle doesn’t drag them up from the depths. They linger there, and Kyle remembers all the fun he had with you.

You were just a small fling. A few lengthy but deliciously good fucks that tops most of the sex he’s ever had in his life. There have been times since he last saw you—over a year now—that Kyle has thought about what could have been.

You were sweet. A potential partner. But Kyle didn’t follow through. He would regret it, but things can’t be taken back. There is no turning back the clock to change what has already occurred.

Kyle’s thumb hovers above the screen.

He shouldn’t. He really fucking shouldn’t.

But he does. Because why not?

Switching over apps, Kyle starts scrolling social media. He doesn’t usually give a shit about what’s happening in people’s lives, but he is curious about you. What are you up to? What are you doing? If you’re not attached, maybe he could call you up, rekindle what was once there.

You don’t have him blocked on anything—thank fuck—and Kyle delves into your socials, exploring your life. At first, the small infant in your arms is nothing to him, but then the tiny human keeps reappearing, and Kyle pauses.

Kyle scrolls a bit more. And stops.

Just three—no—four months ago, there are a slew of friends and family congratulating you on the birth of your son.

Your…son.

Kyle thinks back. Does the math in his head.

“Fuck,” he mutters, sitting up, gaze glued on the screen.

He scrolls back, studying every photo where your son is featured. Kyle’s heart slams in his chest. The features Kyle sees are features he sees every time he looks in the mirror.

“Fucking hell,” groans Kyle, the phone nearly slipping from his hands as he slumps back against the couch.

Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you contact him?

The very thought of you not reaching out doesn’t sit well with him. It sits heavy in his stomach.

“Fuck,” says Kyle, switching over to his contacts.

He finds Simon’s number and taps the call button.

It rings on the other end, and Kyle doesn’t think that he’ll answer. But he does.

“Kyle,” comes Simon’s gruff voice.

Kyle sighs. “I need you to track someone down for me.”

John Price

John doesn’t like cutting off contact with people.

He likes to keep in touch, even if it’s just an acquaintance. But things happen, like a fucked phone with no way to retrieve contacts, and the only people he’s able to retrieve are those he sees on a regular basis.

Your number is gone. And John has no way to get it back.

Legally that is. He could try and find you in the system. What information he has is minimal, but then again, the two of you only had a one-night stand. He’s prone to it since he’s never in one place. Always moving around.

John would like to settle down one day, but his work is his life, and it just doesn’t seem possible to have a family and be consistent with them when he’s constantly called away.

He chews it over while sitting in his office. It’s late, and there isn’t anyone else here but him. Late nights like this are calming to him—a time to process away from the events of the day. John has your first name, where you might live, and a general idea of what your number is. But he isn’t certain, and it’s hardly enough to go on.

Sighing, deciding he’d rather find you than not, John turns on his computer. It takes a while to get the classified systems he has access to. No one tracks what he does on here, and no one will think twice if they do happen to look. John runs lots of names and faces through this system.

John waits. Ponders. Enters in different spellings and every possible clue to try and seek you out. With every new search, John begins to lose hope. He might be completely fucked. Completely at a loss.

If this doesn’t work, he might not ever see you again. And for some goddamn reason, that bothers him.

He tries one last time, expecting nothing, only for his heart to drop into his stomach,

“There you are,” he murmurs, leaning forward, gaze sweeping over your passport photo.

Grabbing a piece of paper, John jots down your phone number and current address. He also notes your top place of employment. You might not be there anymore, but that isn’t an issue. He has enough.

John shuts off his computer and grabs his coat. He’ll try to reach out first by phone and go from there.

“You have the wrong number, bud.”

The man’s southern drawl irks John. “You sure?”

“Yeah I’m fucking sure. Quit calling.”

John frowns as the line goes dead. The number on file isn’t recent.

“Fuck,” mutters John, running his hand through his hair.

This is getting him nowhere. The only other option is showing up at your home or place of employment, but he can’t do that unless he’s on scheduled leave. That’s months away.

And each month is fucking agony.

When John finally makes it to your front door, nervousness sets in. This is completely fucking weird. Who the fuck shows up at someone’s door months after a one-night stand? Him apparently.

But fuck it. He’s here.

Either he does this and things go great, or things go to shit and he doesn’t need to worry about it anymore.

John takes a deep breath, and then pounds on the door. He takes a step back, hands in his pockets as he waits. There is a stretch of silence, and then he hears it—the turn of a deadbolt.

The door swings open, and there you are, just as beautiful from when he first saw you. At first, your brow scrunches in confusion, and then your eyes widen.

“John,” you breathe.

He smiles, and then his gaze drops as your hand moves away from the doorknob to land on your stomach. Your belly is round. Protruding. You’re—oh shit.

“Is that—”

“Yours?”

Fuck.

John glances up into your eyes and swallows.

You shift on your feet, one hand resting against the doorframe.

“It is,” you confirm.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon shouldn’t. Really—it’s fucked up. Wrong.

But he does it anyway because there is no fucking way he’s letting you go even if he has to watch from afar.

He’s done a lot of things he isn’t proud of, and losing you is near the top of the list. Not that he blames you for breaking it off. You had every right. Simon is always gone. Always away. And he rarely thought of you when he came home.

Communication can be a difficult thing for him. He knows this, and yet he couldn’t make an effort to do better with you. It wounds him. It does. Like a sharp blade to the gut.

But that is secondary now. Simon has dismissed it.

Sure, you’re not truly his now, but you’ll come back to him. He’ll make sure of it.

In the dark, Simon watches. Before him is a slew of screens and all of them show different angles of your home. Simon also has your phone tapped, and in another window, he can lurk through your messages and emails.

It’s where he first learned you were pregnant.

You know, and haven’t told him. Haven’t reached out in the slightest. Simon has to see all the results and tests come back via your email. He has to log into your medical portal to access specific things which is goddamn frustrating but he needs to know.

You are fucking pregnant. With his child.

It’s growing in your belly.

Even through the camera feed, Simon can see the swell of your stomach. He wants to be there, to stand beside you, and rest his hand against it. He wants to feel his son kick. Because you are carrying his son in your belly. Simon saw the results.

It’s fucking painful watching you like this.

He’s stayed away for a bit. Not engaging.

But you’ve broken it off before, and came back eventually.

Simon just needs an in again. All he has to do is figure it out, and then he can put away these fucking screens and surveillance. He can be by your side and be there when you give birth.

Leaning back in his chair, Simon observes every screen, his palm rubbing against his thigh as he considered his options.

He has to play this right.

He has to.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“Do you think you’ll ever find your woman again?”

Johnny grins behind his pint glass. “If she’s here,” he replies.

The beer is perfectly cold and goes down easily. It’s refreshing since it’s so bloody hot outside.

Johnny didn’t think he’d ever come back to the little seaside town. He came between missions—a way to relax and get away for a bit. With only a few hundred residents, it seemed like the perfect place. What he didn’t expect was to meet a woman that upended his fatigue and made him glow a little brighter.

He learned your name while exploring a local pub. You were a pretty thing. Caught Johnny’s eye immediately. With several beers fueling him, Johnny struck up a conversation, and you were receptive to his charm—melting like butter over fresh toast.

That evening, the two of you jumped from pub to pub, having a bloody good time. It was fucking magical. Afterward, the two of you ventured back to Johnny’s hotel room. But the two of you didn’t have sex. It wasn’t until the next morning that Johnny actually fucked you.

Johnny had presented himself, you slid right into his arms. The hotel bed was well-used. There wasn’t a moment after that Johnny didn’t have his dick inside you. He kept you full and screaming his name for an entire fucking week.

But when that week was up, the two of you parted ways. You gave Johnny your number, and for a couple months, you were consistent in your texts and phone calls. Then it all changed, and you began to contact him less frequently.

Eventually, you didn’t talk to Johnny at all.

He was hurt at first. He tried to reach out. But Johnny didn’t hear a thing—and he left you to it. Maybe someone else arrived into your life. Johnny can respect that even if he doesn’t exactly like it.

It sucked then. And it still pains him a bit now. Johnny liked you when you left—and if he’s being entirely honest with himself—he still fucking likes you.

Maybe you’ll be here. Maybe you won’t.

Kyle is with him this time. A guy’s trip. Price isn’t one for vacations, and Simon has his own shit going on.

“We could try that pub again,” suggests Kyle. “See if she’s there.”

Johnny shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Did she live here?” asks Kyle.

Johnny nods. “Aye. Sure did.”

Kyle bobs his head. “We’ll find her.”

The two of them sit outside a small pub. The air is laced with salt from the ocean, and the sun is out, shining bright. It’s hot, but it’s a beautiful fucking day.

Johnny hums in agreement, bringing his pint glass back to his lips. For a moment, Johnny glances away from Kyle, looking out across the road where people walk along the pavement. He frowns.

Is that?

No. Can’t be.

His focus becomes a tunnel, and all he can see is the woman across the road. It’s you. There is no doubt. He knows that body, that hair and smile. You haven’t changed all that much. Not really.

There is another woman with you—a friend that Johnny met briefly before you and him went off on your own.

But that isn’t what has Johnny’s attention.

You’ve turned, and Johnny can see a swell to your stomach. Your hand cradles it affectionately.

“What is it?” asks Kyle, but his voice is distant.

“That’s her,” murmurs Johnny, his pint glass lowering back to the table.

You don’t see him. You’re chatting with your friend, features animated. The curve in your stomach is fairly large, and a deep twisting in his stomach arises, moving toward his throat.

“Oh fuck,” says Johnny as Kyle shifts to look in the direction Johnny is staring.

“Is that?”

“It fucking is.”

“She’s fucking pregnant.”

Johnny swallows. “Aye.”

He doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s likely the fucking truth. The baby is probably his. No wonder you stopped talking to him. Maybe you thought it best to cut off contact when you found out.

But that doesn’t sit right with him either. If you had told him, Johnny could have been there for you sooner—not finding out like this.

You throw your head back and laugh, playfully hitting your friend’s arm as she says something funny. When you wipe at your face, clearing tears, your gaze shifts, and all the humor leaves your face.

You’re staring right at Johnny.

And he’s staring back.

taglist:

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@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

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@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

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@whisperwispxx @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @arrozyfrijoles23

[tbaluver]

Hi, Can I request short fic with Lads boys (or only Zayne if you want ). They turned into cats for one day, and MC took care of them.

It would also be interesting to know what breed and color they would be, how they hinted that it was them, etc.

and then in the morning they turned back!

(^˵◕ω◕˵^)

Love ya

When They Turn Into Cats- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: silly a/n: hi anonnie! sorry this took so long to make but this was so cute and fun to write ฅ/ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\ฅ ! i love love cats but i don't own one yet so i'm soso sorry to any of the cat owners out there if i miswrote what it's like ! i hope you like and enjoy it! i love ya too anonnie have a good day/ night! ^•ﻌ•^ฅ♡ edit: heres the version of where you turn into a cat! When You Turn Into A Cat any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier /ᐠ˵- ᴗ -˵マ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 :

You begin to stir from your sleep, reaching out for your lover only to find the space beside you cold and empty. Your eyes flutter open to see a fluffy ragdoll cat with white and light brown fur. The cat curled up peacefully beside you, unaware of the turmoil unfolding around it. Panic and confusion surged through you as you sat up abruptly. 

Where was Xavier? Did he bring this cat home with him? Did this cat wander through an open window?

Your mind raced with questions as you quickly scanned the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of him but he was nowhere to be found. You moved through the house, calling out his name and looked in every room, only to return to your bedroom with no sign of him. The cat remained undisturbed on the bed. In a last attempt, you grabbed your phone to text Xavier, a notification chimed from his phone- right beside his bedside.

As you stand there, taking in the sight of the cat, it begins to stir. It stretches its fluffy paws kneading the bed spread. A soft meow escapes its mouth and tilts its head in confusion. It lets out another meow, as if it’s trying to speak but only produces feline sounds. The cat looked down at its paws, its eyes wide with confusion. With a clumsy roll, it flopped onto its back, its tiny belly exposed in full display. The realization to Xavier of his feline form seemed to down on him and let out a resigned meow.

Determined to you show, he darts around your home trying to show you that this cat is in fact him, your lover. He runs to the kitchen, pawing at his favorite snacks and when you're still confused until he runs to his sword. He paws at the star keychain on the sword's hilt, hoping you would get the idea.

The connection clicks in your mind as you watch the cat meow again, although it’s not just any random cat, it was Xavier. You sink to the floor, settling yourself at Xavier’s cat level as he crawls into your lap and curls comfortably as if he’s always belonged there.

You don’t know how Xavier turned into a cat or how to reverse it so the best you could do for now was to take care of him, hoping that he’ll be okay when he randomly turns back into a human. When you tried to leave the house to get him cat food, he persistently cried making it impossible for you to leave him behind.

In this cat form, Xavier’s behavior was oddly just like his human self. He was calm and gentle and found often sleeping contentedly  on your lap or nestled close by. The warmth of his tiny and fluffy body was a comforting presence and his soft purring was a soothing background in your home. He also seems to really love it when you scratch behind his ears.

Anytime you laid down, he would knead any parts of your body. Anytime you ate something, he would paw at your food or try to steal a bite. And anytime you didn't let him have a bite, he'll stare at you with sad cat eyes. He would even follow you around even to the bathroom to do whatever business you had in there. It felt as if he was just guarding you in his cat form- even if he fell asleep again.

When night time falls, he curls up beside you, something Xavier would always do during your night routines. You reach out, your fingers gently brushing through his fur, and Xavier response with a content sleepy "meow", pressing his head against yours.

When you woke up, you felt a warm presence beside you. Blinking sleepily, your eyes widened in surprise to find Xavier back into human form, still curled up beside you. His hair tousled and his face relaxed as he sleeps peacefully. With a gentle smile, you kiss the top of his head and pull him closer, drifting back to sleep together. All your worries melt away and was replaced by the comforting presence of your lover.

Zayne /ᐠ - ˕ -マ :

You were supposed to meet Zayne an hour ago for a date after his shift, but despite your repeated calls and texts, he never responded. Concerned, you decided to check on him at the hospital. As you navigate the familiar hallways, you make your way to his office. When you opened the door, you were surprised to find no sign of Zayne- only a gray Scottish Fold cat curled up on his desk, peacefully asleep on top of a messy stack of papers.

You called out his name, but the only response was the cat’s slow stretch as it blinked awake. The cat rubs its eyes with its paws, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at how cute it looked with Zayne’ glasses perched on its nose.

The cat’s eyes widened in confusion as it glanced down at its feline form. It meows softly, then looks up at you with an almost desperate expression. It paws at you, as if it were trying to get your attention but you mistook this as a request for affection and scratched the back of its head. The cat seemed to enjoy the attention for a moment, then abruptly shook your hand away and started pawing at the glasses.

Confused, you picked up their glasses and the cat seemed to become even more agitated. It started patting at the name tag on Zayne’s desks with urgency. Realization has finally hit you and you looked back at the cat and the name. The cat let out a resigned meow, and you laughed softly as you tried to process this strange situation.

You settle into his office chair, and he curls up o your lap, resting his head against your chest as if surrendering to the situation. Gently, you scratch the back of his head, offering a soothing reassurance that you'll find a way to restore him to his human form.

Before you leave, you tidy up his desk so it is ready for his return one day. You carefully carry him through the familiar hospital hallways. As you pass by Greyson, who reaches out to pet what he thinks is just a stray cat, Zayne swats his hand away, not in the mood for affection from others, only you.

Once you get him back home, you opt for cat food, concerned that giving him his favorite human food or treats might upset his stomach in this new feline form. You couldn’t tell but he would be really sad watching you eat your shared favorite food and treats without him. He would just stare at you as you eat it all. 

Being a cat does not stop him from being a doctor to you. He'll gently headbutt you or paw you if you indulge in too much junk food, concerned about your health and your disregard for his medical advice.

You offer a stick and string for play and at first he seemed indifferent about it but a few minutes later he was swatting and pouncing with enthusiasm. You were definitely gong to tease him about this later.

He was a very observant cat. He doesn't do much other than explore around new corners areas of your house he hasn't seen before due to his smaller form. Other than that he takes keen interest in watching you go about your day as he sits on your windowsill.

He loves it when you pet him and he purrs contentedly in response. He's read somewhere that cats purr as a form of healing, and he hopes that maybe just maybe that it'll heal your heart. As your stroke his fur, hell give you slow, deliberate blinks. It's his cat version of saying I love you.

As you prepare for bed, he follows you to the bathroom, quietly overserving you as you brush your teeth and go through the rest of your nightly routine. When you make a cozy spot for him on the bed, he disregards it and instead curls up right beside you. As you both settle into bed, you run your fingers gently through his fur, and together you drift off to sleep, wrapped in each other's warmth.

As the light settles through the curtains, you gradually wake up, feeling arms wrapped around your waist. Your heart racing with a mix of joy and disbelief, you see your lover back to normal and already awake. He looks down at you tenderly, gently brushing the stray strands of hair from your face. You gently cradle his face, savoring the precious moment before drawing him into a close embrace, filled with gratitude that your lover is finally back in his true form.

Rafayel ฅᨐฅ :

You visit his studio, only to find the room he usually paints at messy. More messy than usual. Paw prints were scattered all over the canvases, the floor, and the furniture. As you call out for Rafayel, a distressed orange cat darts towards you, urgently trying to climb up your leg and practically crying.

"MYEOWWWW" "MYEOOWWW"

You giggle thinking Rafayel must have scared the cat. As you bend down to soothe it, the cat tries to climb onto you, continuing to meow loudly and seek comfort.

"Did Raf let you in? Did he scare you?"

The cat steps back with a huff, it's ears going in airplane mode as it shakes its head in disapproval. You were amused by the cat from how it looks like it just responded to you. "Let me go find him."

You call out for him again, but the only reply is the cat gently tapping your feet. As you look down, you see the cat jump onto a stool, giving you a clearer view. To your surprise, you notice it's wearing Rafayel's locket- the one that matches your bracelet, something he has gifted you a while ago. The realization hits your hard, your lover has turned into a cat.

You approach him, gently petting him to offer reassurance. Your aware of how much he fears and dislikes cat and now somehow he transformed into one and you're not sure how long this curse will last on him. You stifle a snicker, finding the situation oddly amusing, but your determined to take good care of your love in his new feline form.

"meow."

Even as a cat, he chatters endlessly, trailing after you wherever you go. You clean up the studio from the mess he made as a cat and the ones he probably made in his human form. "meow. meow. meow. meow. meow."

You attempt to wash the paint off his paws yet he hisses at the water despite him being a Lemurian- perhaps it's due to his feline nature. He also rejects the healthy cat food you offer, hissing and retreating to a corner in disapproval. He tries to sneak and steal his favorite food but he gets caught by you every time. You had to give him positive reinforcements and praise him for him to eat the cat food you fed him.

Anytime he passes by a mirror, he would hiss at it. Anytime you wouldn't give him attention, he would bite your leg or your arm depending on what you're doing. When you scold him for doing that, he'll have his tail and brush against your leg while meowing at you. "myeowwww. myeowwwww."

You attempted to play with him on the bed, but he suddenly stood up on his hind legs. In a playful misstep, he ends up flopping onto his back and tumbling off the bed.

After a long day, you prepare for bed, with him trailing behind you, his paws making soft pattering sounds. He leaps into the space right next to you, settling in comfortably. You gently scratch the back of his head, and he purrs softly, secretly enjoying the affection. You kiss the top of his furry head and wish him a goodnight before you both drift off to sleep.

It wasn't the sun that woke you up by your lover who was right beside you gasping when he finally realized he wasn't a cat anymore.

"Maybe true love's kiss? Pfft. You should've kissed me sooner cutie. Was I not adorable even as a cat?"

Sylus ≽^-˕-^≼ :

You wake up to the heavy weight of a cat sitting on your stomach. A Burmese with dark, fluffy fur is perched comfortably on you, staring at you with a piercing gaze. The intensity of its stare is a bit unsettling and you're left wondering how this cat appeared or what it's doing in Sylus's home.

"meow."

You shift to a sitting position, causing the cat to hop off your body. However as you settle, it immediately climbs back onto you, finding a comfortable spot once more. Instinctively, you reach down to pet it, and it closes its eyes, purring contentedly. As you reach for your phone to call Sylus, you hear his phone from the opposite bedside table right next to you.

Confused, you get up from the bed and start searching for him, with the cat following you and meowing persistently. "meow. meow." You check every room, calling out for him, but he's nowhere to be found. You even asked Mephisto where Sylus might be, only to remember you don't speak crow. You eventually asked him to fly in the direction Sylus might have gone, but the crow remains still as the cat stands right beside you.

Not understanding the clue right away, he paws at you and meows insistently. As you glance down, you notice the red, shiny necklace Sylus always wears. Suddenly it hits you that all this time it was Sylus who had been the cat.

Finding his new form both adorable and amusing, you reach down to pet him. As you let out small laugh, he playfully wrestles with your arm. You didn't want to admit it but somehow even in his cat form, he was still strong as he playfully dominated your arm with ease.

He eats any cat food you give him without any fuss. He has a lot of fun playing with Mephisto though you think it seems one sided, as Mephisto quickly flies away in fear whenever he jumps up to chase him. He also enjoys playing around with Mephisto's feathers and becomes even more engaged when you join in as you hold up the feather for him to catch.

He purrs contentedly whenever he's on your lap or curled up right beside you. His purring continues as you brush his fur and nearly drifted off to sleep as he finds it so soothing.

He follows you everywhere around the house, not giving you any space at all. Even when you're in the bathroom, he trails after you, watching every move with whatever you do in there.

As you prepare for bed, he tries to settle on you again, but he feels a bit heavy with the weight on your stomach so you gently lift him to curl up beside you instead. He doesn't mind being moved, as long as he's close to you. Once he's settled, he makes himself comfortable and you both soon drift off to sleep together.

You haven't woken up yet, still unaware that he's already returned to his human form. Propper up on one elbow, with the other arm around your waist, he watches you sleep with a soft smirk, finding your peaceful sleep adorable. As you stir, you might wonder if the previous day's events were just a dream and he would one hundred percent try to make you believe that.

[arcanume]

MDNI 18+ , LOGAN X FEM!READER ↓

thinking about old man logan who’s just soo enraptured by you. it’s almost humorous how the smallest gesture done by you is enough to leave him feeling a little too tight in his pants. he’s seen the likes of many women, of every background, yet you’re the first to truly get his attention, really leave his mind thinking about you a sickly amount, he should be ashamed he thinks but..he can’t find himself to care, not anymore anyways.

it shouldn’t come as a surprise to him when he finally gets you in his bed, or — well, him in yours, that he’s downright nasty! he may be 200 years old, and perhaps he likes being old fashioned in every other sense, but god..when it’s just you and him, and his head is in between your two legs, stroking and pinching your clit with his big callused fingers — stars do inevitably start appearing behind your eyes.

your clit might as well be rubbed raw from how many orgasms he pulls out of you, i mean cmon! the old man has had centuries of experience, literally! when his cock is finally freed from the confines of his own pants, and he drags the tip from your clit to your hole…god, you’re sure there’s no better feeling — and he’s sure he’s in heaven, the feeling of your slick paired with the hot and heavy mess between his legs..yeah, he’s never leaving the bed.

you can’t say he’s a rough lover, but he’ll always have a rugged approach to him, and that applies to the way he fucks you too. the drags of his cock through your walls has friction of course — but it’s delicious, it’s the way his chest is connected with yours, the way his mouth is trying its best to mouth at your neck, the feeling of the coarse hair hitting your own mound.

it’s nasty, it’s too much sometimes, but it’s too addicting, too sweet to ever think otherwise about. he knows all the right spots, he knows what makes you tick, he’s obsessed with every inch of your being, and he’ll bury himself as many times as he needs to in your own pussy until he memorizes it like the back of his own hand — until he can feel the bumps inside you, every gummy lined wall, and tell himself, ‘’oh yeah, i’m getting close to her special sweet spot.’’ after all, he’s nothing if not persistent.

@ arcanume 2024 , do not copy, repost, or steal.

[certifiedfreec]

i feel like there would be some subtle signs that ghost took an interest in you…

- one time you were showing him something on the computer, and he took that massive 6’4” body of his and leaned it right over your shoulder to read the screen. as if that wasn’t close enough, he rested one of his big ‘ol calloused hands on the desk beside you, effectively caging you into your seat. you could practically feel the warmth that radiated off of him when he did that. (he really likes the smell of your shampoo, by the way.)

- he watched you make your coffee one morning, memorizing your order down to the number of sugar packets you used. after that, you’d head down to make your morning cup and all the exact ingredients would mysteriously be laid out on the counter for you. he’d pick on you later about drinking coffee instead of tea, though. maybe he’ll make you a cup for you to try- back in his own office, of course ;)

- everyone in tf141 knows you’re a perfectly capable soldier, so they think it’s odd that ghost always finds ways to provide extra backup for you during missions. guarding you from danger, making sure your area is clear of threats…he can’t help but want to protect and take care of his fellow teammate, though he has a list of other ways he’d like to take care of you :’)

i feel like there would be some subtle signs that keegan took an interest in you…

- he saw your phone screen after training one day, immediately zeroing in on the artist you were listening to. later that evening he casually brings up the exact same band/person, because he’s coincidentally one of their biggest fans! maybe he’ll ask you to go to one of their shows when you’re off duty… looks like you’ve found yourself a concert buddy ;)

- he bullies you, but it’s with the best intentions. it’s more like him relentlessly nagging at you until you match his snarky energy and give him some sass back, which he loves to provoke from you. you always have the best comebacks when he uses his dry humor on you, and he thinks it’s adorable. he definitely likes to push your buttons, but he’d like to undo them even more <3

- ever since he revealed your “shared love” for your favorite artist, he sends you music recommendations for you to listen to (that will hopefully make you think of him whenever you hear them!). pay attention to the lyrics, because he might be trying to tell you something with them… :))

i feel like there would be some subtle signs that graves took an interest in you…

- if you have any snacks or candy on you, he’s nonchalantly stepping right beside you and doing that “underhand-behind-the-back” gesture for you to shake some into his palm. (sometimes he imagines that’s what your lips taste like- omg who said that???)

- he let you wear his jacket during an operation where you were in the freezing cold outside for an extensive amount of time. he watched you shiver through your orders, trying your best to be a good soldier for him :( he walked up to you and draped his shadow company jacket over your shoulders (which smelled deliciously like him) and flashed you that toothy grin. “you look like you’re ‘bout to get frostbite, soldier. take this.” (he was definitely thinking of some other ways that he could warm you up…)

- he took his time when he read through your file, and wow, it looks like your city’s professional football team rivals his. it’s the perfect way to initiate banter with you. he’ll be giving you a hard time about it for sure, and maybe he’ll make some interesting bets with you depending on how well the season’s going ;)

[nanpecan]

₊✩‧₊˚once more to see you˚₊✩‧₊

{nanami x f!reader}

˚₊✩‧₊summary: You're a manager at Jujutsu Kaisen and happen to get assigned to driving a rank 1 sorcerer you've had a crush on for a while. Everything seems to be going as normal until an interaction with a curse leaves him a little hot and bothered.

˚₊✩‧₊tags: nanami x fem!reader, explicit smut (mdni) !!

˚₊✩‧₊ word count: 5.6k

˚₊✩‧₊author's note: this has been in my head for so long and I guess its part one to a longer story but who knows if I'll ever get around to writing it, yet alone posting it. anyways first time, kinda nervous; this is super self indulgent and i'm not even sorry about it.

˚₊✩‧₊this is also kind of inspired by this Mitski song, hence the title. I love this song, I think it's very Nanami coded<3

˚₊✩‧₊all parts here! pt 2. pt 3. pt 4.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

An obsession. 

That’s what it was. 

A rush of emotion when you caught even the smallest glance of him. 

Always in a hurry. 

Always somewhere to be. 

Never paying any mind to you. 

This lifestyle was a rushed one and you hardly ever found time for yourself, but your mind always seemed to have a second to wonder about him. 

Was he safe? Was he injured?

You had heard about him through others. 

You had really only seen him in action from a distance, once, and very briefly. But that had been enough to develop this stupid crush. 

You were a busy body, nothing but a cushion to the real missions of importance. 

You had come to accept that you would never really matter past making it from point A to point B, with whatever message you had to deliver, or whoever you had to transport for the day. 

You were secretly content with the position. You had started because you wanted to make a difference. 

But you knew you were a coward. 

You had the spirit but lacked the physical strength to back it. And that made you afraid. 

“Nanami Kento.” 

Your hand stopped mid air as you reached for your phone. 

“I’m sorry?” You must have misheard. 

“You owe me one.” Akari said with a smirk. The head manager had been one of your closest friends since you had begun working as an assistant. You had similar pasts and were around the same age, so you had instantly clicked. She was very much aware of your infatuation even if you hadn’t directly expressed it. She could see right through you every time you tried to feign indifference whenever the topic of Nanami was brought up. 

“Nanami needs transportation to his next mission. He usually goes on his own, but the client insisted he gets driven to this location specifically.”  There was something suspicious about that last statement, but you dismissed it as she kept talking.  “Ijichi is busy dealing with something so it was passed down to me.” She smiled again and shrugged. “But I have some very important business to take care of so I’m passing it on to someone I trust is more than qualified to drive a sorcerer of his class.”  She winked at you. “Don’t worry about the briefing he’s been sent all the information. All you have to do is drive him there and back.” 

You looked down at your phone and tried to act nonchalant. Until you saw the details. “Today?” 

She nodded. “Sorry for the last minute switch up, I figured you’d get in your own head if you had too much time to think about it. Make a good first impression. I’m rooting for you!” She gave you two thumbs up and laughed. 

You tapped your finger against the wheel nervously. You had never been more nervous to drive. It’s okay, you thought to yourself, nothing is going to happen, I doubt he’ll even speak to me. He’s not much of a talker, and besides, he always carries around a newspaper or a book. He won’t be paying attention to me. Just focus on-

You flinched as you heard the passenger door open. You had expected him to sit behind you. 

You felt your stomach drop as Nanami was suddenly next to you. It was almost overwhelming, his size, his smell, his warmth. 

You stared ahead awkwardly and felt his gaze on you. You turned to look at him trying not to seem too flustered. 

“Ah, good afternoon.” You smiled warmly at him. “Um, I’m y/n.” You said. 

He nodded and didn’t say anything back. 

“Right, it should take us around 36 minutes to get to your location.” 

He nodded again, his glasses turning to his watch. He suddenly looked up and stared ahead, as to signal that he was ready to head out.

This was so awkward. It was kind of making it easier to be around him. You didn’t know what else you expected. You’d actually preferred the silence rather than trying to carry a conversation with him. At least that’s what you were telling yourself. 

“Feel free to mess with the radio. I don’t have any preferences.” 

“I prefer to sit in silence before missions.” His voice sent a chill up your spine. Wait a minute, in silence? Weird. You thought to yourself. “Is that okay?” 

“Yes, that’s fine too.” Really weird. Most sorcerers would listen to something to amp them up before a mission. For Kusabe that was smooth Jazz, Yuki would put on 80’s Japanese Rock Classics, Ino would put on Ska and you couldn’t help but laugh the first time he requested it. You smirked at the memory and felt his eyes on you again. You dropped the smile and clenched your jaw. “Alright, we’ll be off then.” He hadn’t stopped staring. You quickly turned to look at him and smiled warmly. He turned away, seeming flustered. You quickly made a note of his reaction and you felt your stomach flutter a bit. You let your eyes linger on him for a bit longer, as he tugged at an invisible string on his suit, before turning away and driving off. 

-

You arrived at your location and looked up at the old building. You bit your lip to hold back a laugh. The crooked neon sign over the door was no longer lit up but you could still read out what it said, ‘Paradise X Massage.’ You curiously looked over to see Nanami’s reaction. As usual, he was stoic. 

He has to know what that means, right? You went around the car to stand next to him and the moment you took a step closer you felt the aura of the building. A shiver went up your spine and your stomach felt tingly. You couldn’t help but smile. A curse born from a place of sex was bound to have this kind of aura. 

Things started to click. Of course Nanami was the best sorcerer for the job. He would take this very seriously. You doubted he ever let his emotions get ahead of him. You thought back to a story Ijichi had told you a long time ago about a group of male sorcerers that had been sent to exorcise a type of Kejoro, only for them to return unsuccessful, unable to carry out the mission, as well as being hot and bothered for a week. 

You felt Nanami’s eyes on you again. You looked at him before turning back at the sign and scrunching your face. “Nanami, I wouldn’t have taken you for this type of man, but don’t worry I won’t tell.” You winked at him and cringed at your stupid joke. You didn’t know him like that. He probably thought you were insane. 

“Thank you, I try not to make it a habit.” He said back with a small smile. 

You looked at him a little surprised and laughed. 

“There you are, hello!” A sweaty man with beady eyes came your way and beelined to Nanami. “My name is Gonji, I was the one who sent for you.” He glanced at your direction before turning his back to you to speak with Nanami. You blinked and grimaced. “I bought this location five months ago, I should have known there was something wrong for the price I paid, but hey! That’s business! I’m planning on fixing her up and turning it into a real refined establishment if you know what I mean. I already have the clientele, and the girls but this damn thing keeps scaring the girls away and-“ he whispered the next words. “-killed three of my guys. But hey, that’s business!” He laughed nervously. He was talking a mile a minute, becoming more and more sweaty. The air had to be getting to him. “Anyway I’ve already called a bunch of weirdos to go in there and kill the damn thing but they were all useless. Scammers all of them.” He spat at the ground. “Hey if ya help me out, I’m sure we can work out some sort of discount for you once we’re up and running. What do you say, your choice of girl-“ 

“Has it taken any hostages?” Nanami cut him off. 

“No it only scares off the girls, but lets them out. The men on the other hand…If they do manage to make it out they act like wild animals. I have to keep them away from my girls.” He laughed and then erupted into a coughing fit. “That’s why I recommend you bring a driver. Even if you do kill this thing, the tent in your pants won’t let you focus on anything else for another two hours.” He cackled and elbowed Nanami in a playful manner. Nanami’s jaw clenched and he stared down at the man. Gonji didn’t seem to notice. He finally turned towards you. “Well at least you brought yourself a cute mouse to play with if it gets to be too much.” You couldn’t hide the look of disgust on your face when he finally looked at you. “Hey there little lady, a smile might help.” He rolled his eyes and turned back to Nanami. “Women these days. Can’t take a joke.” He tried elbowing Nanami again and was stopped by Nanami’s large hand grabbing his forearm. 

“We’ll get started. Did you want to go inside with me?” Nanami asked the man. 

Gonji pulled his arm out of Nanami’s grasp and swore at him under his breath. “No, I’m taking off. I have places to go, people to see, although I’d pay god knows what to see that bitch’s blood spilled on the floor.” He looked around and picked up a rock before weakly throwing it at the sign. He missed, it didn’t even hit the wall. He messed with his jacket, embarrassed. “I’ll be leaving now. I’ll send the payment tomorrow when I come and see the place again.” He waddled off. 

“What a fucking dickhead.” You said. “We shouldn’t even exorcise this curse. He shouldn’t be allowed to run a place like that. I’m willing to bet-“ 

“Will you put up the barrier?” You turned back to Nanami and nodded before muttering the incantation. Nanami awkwardly placed a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.” He turned towards the barrier. “For the record I agree. Scum like him are a scourge to society and should be dealt with accordingly. For now let’s bring this curse some peace.”

“Let’s.” You said in agreement. You watched him disappear into the veil.  

-

You leaned back against the car and checked the time on your watch. He had been gone for 20 minutes now. You sighed. Was it an insult to worry about him? He was one of the best - in your heavily biased opinion. 

   You heard your phone ding from inside the car as you received a message and you quickly went around to check it.  

    -So when’s the wedding? 

Akari was checking in on you. 

   -answer me this, what does it mean when someone doesn’t want to listen to any music on a 30 minute drive. 

   -No music? Like at all?     -none.    -weird. 

   -that’s what I was thinking! he must be fighting demons in his head.     -or he just wanted to savor every minute with you<3     -shut up.     -how’s it going anyway?     -don’t you have “important” business to take care of?     -:p boooo     -it’s fine, it’s some sort of sex cu-

You jumped as the back passenger door to your right was suddenly being opened. You felt the car shake as Nanami collapsed into the seats.  

“Shit, Nanami? Are you okay.” You should have been out there to greet him. You exited out of the car and dropped the veil. The building was a pile of rubble. You made your way around the car and yanked open the door. 

You felt blood rush to your face and your jaw dropped as you looked at what lay in front of you. 

Nanami had taken off his suit jacket, and was no longer wearing his glasses. He was suddenly desperately undoing his tie and fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, all the while breathing heavily. He turned away from you as you looked in.  

“What’s wrong, are you injured? How can I help?” Your face felt hot as you watched him struggle with his clothes. You hesitated to move forward, unsure what to do. 

He moved around a bit more, still struggling with his shirt, and you got a better look at him. His face was flush red and there was a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. He was panting, basically gasping for air. You stared at him feeling a burning in your chest as your heart beat in your ears. 

You snapped out of your trance, this was not the time. He might be hurt. He had backed up enough to be leaning on the opposite car door so you moved forward and let the door shut behind you. “Let me help you with that.” You said softly, moving your hands closer to help him with the buttons. “Are you hurt?” You asked as he let out a soft grunt. “Let me take a look.” His hands fell to his side and you noticed he was gripping the seats. He winced away from your touch, hissing as your knee touched his thigh. 

You froze. Your hands still on his shirt. He shuddered away from you but you felt him move his thigh forward, slightly, to touch your knee again. He let out a deep exhale and a muffled grunt. He repeated the movement again and again. You stayed there staring at him, face burning as you realized he was basically humping you. His breaths got faster and you felt the ghost of his hand on your back slowly pulling you closer. His inner thigh was now pushing into your knee repeatedly and you felt him slightly buckle his hips as his hand finally landed on your neck and pulled you forward. Your hands, still on his shirt buttons, pushed lightly against his chest and your head fell into the space above his shoulder, cheeks now next to each other. He pushed hard against your knee one more time and then you heard him moan deeply into your ear. 

“Fuck.” You heard him mutter. His voice was full of frustration. “Fuck.” He said again. 

You slowly pulled back, looking at him, completely in shock. He wasn’t meeting your gaze. He just kept muttering “fuck” and “sorry” under his breath. 

You looked down and once again felt blood rush to your face as you realized what had happened. 

Since his body was leaned back against the door, you had crawled closer to him and were now on your knees between his legs. You guessed at some point he had managed to undo his belt, the button to his trousers, and pulled down the zipper because you were staring at his erection through the fabric of his underwear. It was soaked. 

You quickly pulled back away from him, somewhat losing your balance and placing your hands back down to steady yourself. Nanami lurched up as you placed your hands on his thighs and you watched as he came again. This time seeing the white liquid bleed through the fabric and drip down. 

“I- I am so sorry.” You said quickly and started to back away. You needed to leave him alone. One of his hands grabbed onto your arm keeping you in place. You looked at him confused. 

“No, stop,” he said, panting. “I’m sorry,” he said, finally looking into your eyes. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I apologize. This is bad. I can't control-“ he squeezed your arm a little as his eyes shut and his brows knit together. “I need...” he looked into your eyes and slowly moved closer to you. His face was inches away and you felt the warmth radiating off of him. He looked directly at you now and seemed to be looking for some sort of sign. His eyes were beautiful. You realized this was the first time you had seen them. “Please…” You continued to stare at him, in shock. He wriggled beneath you and let out a soft moan. “I need you.” 

You understood. 

You quickly moved closer to him, crashing your lips into his. He moaned into your mouth and desperately pressed his lips to yours. You pushed your tongue through his closed lips and he slightly opened his mouth meeting you with his own tongue. You let him slither his in yours before closing your mouth and tugging at his lips slightly. When you finally pulled back you were both panting heavily, a string of saliva connecting you. You looked down and saw he had come again. 

“Y/N, please,” he took your hand and pulled it towards him. “I want…” you looked at him and smirked. Your eyes wandered down as he groaned again. 

“What do you want?” You said mischievously. You looked back up. 

“Please.” You had intended to tease him, but he looked so distraught and frazzled, you felt it would be too mean spirited. You nodded and let his hand guide you to his pants. You laid your hand down gently over him and felt him twitch underneath you. He groaned and you felt your face burn up again. This was happening. 

“I’ll-I’ll help you out, don’t worry.” You said nervously. You pressed down and his hips jutted into your hand. Your chest felt fluttery as your eyes were glued down to your hand and his member twitching beneath it. You smiled a little and clenched your thighs together. Focus. You were all talk. You tried to hide your nerves as you slowly wrapped your fingers around his clothed cock. He tried to suppress a moan as he shuddered underneath you. You watched the discoloration in his underwear spread as more fluid leaked out. “Wow.” 

He suddenly pulled your face closer to him and kissed you. He was desperate for contact, moaning into your mouth as he used his free hand to pull down the band of his underwear and you gasped as you felt his hot skin in your hand. 

You opened your eyes to try to sneak a peek but his right hand was buried in your hair, keeping you in place to make out with him. You kept your fingers together and wrapped around him as he thrust his hips forward, sliding between your curled fingers easily. He tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth as you felt him wrap a hand around yours, guiding you to stroke him. His breath shuddered at the feeling and he pulled you closer again. You moved your free hand to steady yourself as you leaned over him. 

He looked up at you and you saw fire burning in his eyes. He suddenly moved your hand away from his dick and placed his hands on your hips lifting you slightly so he could readjust himself under you. You were straddling him. He watched you carefully as he gently rocked his hips up between your legs and moved his hands up to go under your shirt. He waited patiently for your approval. You nodded and his hands slithered up your shirt to cup your breasts. You gasped as he roughly kneaded you and you started to undo the buttons on your shirt. Nanami decided you weren’t fast enough and ripped the shirt off of you. You didn’t have time to process past the sound of fabric ripping because he sat up and kissed you again. 

His hands moved impatiently all over your body as he pulled you closer. He was rough, but not in an aggressive way, he was impatient. You suddenly felt his fingers work their way into the waistband of your pants and you moved your hands to stop him. He looked up at you and stopped moving. He stared silently, still breathing heavily. “Would you like me… to stop?” He asked. 

You looked down at him and took a moment to assess the situation. Nanami was half naked laying under you. His shirt was now off revealing his toned chest and abdomen. You finally looked down and saw his dick. Wide and long, the bright red tip was leaning right and radiating heat. Your mouth watered. And you lightly moved your hips forward to feel it push against your core. 

“Is there a problem?” He asked. 

You hesitated to answer him. How embarrassing, you thought to yourself, this is probably going to hurt. Would he stop if you told him you were a virgin? Maybe it would be for the best. You could feel yourself soaking through your underwear, but would that be enough? He was big. You looked back up at him and opened your mouth to speak. You met his eyes and you blushed. His hair was tousled, skin pink and flush and of course he was breathing deeply. You noticed something on the side of his neck. A cut. It was a puncture wound, no bigger than your pinky nail, but it looked deep. 

“You’re injured.” You put your hand up to it and carefully examined it. It was emoting cursed energy and everything clicked. He might have defeated the curse in the building but she had gotten a good lick in. You put your hand over it to heal him. 

You weren’t good at much, but your ability to use a tiny amount of RCT had been your saving grace. Not that you were very good at it. You could really only handle superficial wounds like this one. 

Suddenly his hand grabbed your wrist and pulled it away. “Later,” he said. You stared at him confused. “I want to finish you first.” His hips thrust upwards against your pants and you couldn’t help but smile. You nodded and brought your hands down to undo the button to your pants. Nanami hissed under you as you shifted your weight around trying to pull your pants down. You were able to get one leg out and began pulling them down the other when he grabbed you quickly and settled you on top of him again. He looked up at you and you watched his eyes move down to take in your body. “Are you ready?”

You looked back at him nervously. “I-you’re so big.” You were too embarrassed to tell him it was your first time. He sat up and was suddenly inches from your face. 

He smiled coyly and nodded. “It’s okay, I can help you.” You felt one of his hands grip your waist and the other moved down to rub your clit. Your breath shuddered and you automatically buckled your hips against his hand. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders for support. He smiled wider, amused. His fingers moved lower and he slid them between your folds to collect your arousal. You were breathing heavily, your face buried into his chest. You felt him slip a finger inside of you, slowly, you felt him push up against you as far as he could go before there was a slight pop. 

A moan escaped your lips as he pushed his finger deeper. “Fuck,” he muttered. “You’re so tight.” You felt him drag his finger out, “I’m adding another one, okay?” You nodded lost in bliss. You bit your lip as you felt his fingers stretch you out again, this time sliding in a bit easier. His hands were large and his fingers long, but you knew this was easy to take compared to the real thing. Your ability to think was damped as he sped up his thrusts and his other hand slid down to rub your clit again with his thumb. You gasped and felt yourself clench onto him. You moved your hips forward desperate to feel friction. You were panting wildly and felt yourself getting close. You moved your arm down and wrapped a hand around his cock. Roughly stroking it, to repay the favor. 

“Wait-I’m close, I-I want you inside of me.” You whispered into his ear. You could feel his heartbeat quicken as his lips crashed down on yours again. 

“Whatever you want.” He said. He removed his fingers and you winced at the new empty feeling. Still rubbing your clit with one hand, he moved his now free hand to stop your strokes and guided himself between your legs. He thrust slowly against your folds running his cock between your thighs and your mound and you buckled your hips against him.

You smiled happily. Even if you couldn’t take him, you’re sure you could come from just this. He suddenly stopped and pulled back, you looked down at his cock now gleaming, covered in your fluids. He lay back against the seat and put his hands on your hips. “Now it’s up to you,” he lifted your hips and positioned you so your cunt was hovering over him. “Take your time, if you don’t think you can do it, let me know.” You felt embarrassment rush through you. Did he know? 

“Thank you.” You said meekly. 

“I’m not trying to embarrass you,” he said softly. His hand came up and caressed your cheek. “I just don’t want to hurt you.” The kindness in his eyes made your heart flutter. You nodded with new determination. You placed a hand on his chest to balance yourself as you reached down with your other one to position him in place. You thrust your hips against his tip and pushed it into your folds, watching as his jaw clenched from the feeling. You found your opening and slowly lowered yourself to allow him inside. You winced as the tip entered you and you pushed down as far as you could go. You looked down in disappointment as you realized he wasn’t even half way in. You moved your hips back and forth just on his tip and he moved his hands onto your hips digging his fingers into you. He hissed and closed his eyes from the feeling. 

“Sorry.” You apologized. 

   He opened his eyes and furrowed his brows. “Don’t apologize. If that’s all you can do, I’ll take it.” He slowly thrust his hips and you moaned. You wished you could take him further. You bit your lip, you could do it. You reached down to lead his cock further into you and you braced yourself as you pushed him in deeper. You whimpered as you felt him stretch you out and after a little resistance he slid right in with a plop. He pulled you closer and bucked his hips slightly as he felt you wrapped around him. Pulsing from the new feeling. You winced as he moved. He was so big. You looked up at him and his face was pure bliss. His mouth was slightly open and his eyes closed, brows furrowed. “Shit,” he muttered. “You’re so tight around me.” He looked up at you. “Is this your first-“ you cut him off with a kiss. You winced at the sensation of him inside of you but suddenly moaned as he pushed up and you felt him reach a spot deep inside of you. You gasped as he thrust and hit it again. 

“There, right there, please.” You said desperately. He smiled and began thrusting his hips upwards satisfied every time he saw your face scrunch when he hit that spot. His hands moved back to your ass and he spread your cheeks out allowing himself to go just a little bit deeper. You let out a yelp as he now directly hit that spot inside of you. 

“Good girl, you’re taking me so well”. He said. You smiled lazily and kissed him. He slowed his pace a bit as he moved his hand down to rub your clit again. He had seen how much you had liked it and wanted you to finish soon. The feeling of you clamping down on him was going to make him cum soon, too. You let out a heavenly moan as he started to rub you. 

Your hips moved down on their own as you rode him. “Nanami! Fuck!” You whined as you bounced over him. You pulled him closer to you to make out and he began to move his hips in opposition to yours. You gasped as you felt him reach deep inside of you, and you wanted more, you felt your climax building up as you desperately pushed against him. Wanting to keep him deeper. He understood and thrust sharply and rubbed your clit harder. Loud moans of his name and ungodly noises left your lips as you felt it all become too much and you suddenly felt your whole body shake vigorously as you came. You felt tears come to your eyes. 

You had never felt this good, you felt radiant, like a blinding fire took your body and left you refreshed. You shook over him a couple of times, enjoying the feeling of your cunt pulsing on him. He had stopped moving, still buried deep inside of you so you could ride out your high. Your eyes fluttered as you looked up at him and you smiled, happier than you’d ever been. He planted a kiss on your lips. 

“You’re beautiful.” He said. You felt heat weld up in your stomach, he wiped your tears away softly. 

You looked down at him and furrowed your brows. “You didn’t come.” You lifted your hips slightly and winced. “Keep going.” You blushed as you saw the white ring that had formed at the base of his cock. The opening of his pants was also covered in your slick. 

He nodded and put a hand over your waist, quickly flipping you over and laying you down across the back seats. You were now under him and watched as he backed up, pulling his pants further down. You watched him through the V frame of your legs. Your cunt was sore and you felt like you looked a mess but when he looked back up at you, all your insecurities vanished. He took the sight of you in and you saw his dick twitch with anticipation. He came closer and while you expected him to just go in you gasped as his face went between your thighs and his lips latched onto your clit. You let out a moan. It was too much, you were still so sensitive. You grabbed his head and ran your fingers through his blonde locks. He looked up at you as he ran a stiff tongue against your folds and you shuddered. He smirked and went to town. 

He threw your legs over his shoulders and devoured you. Your toes curled and you had to stop yourself from closing your thighs, afraid to crush him. You suddenly felt his fingers curl deep inside you as his tongue played with your bud and you yelled out, your climax hitting again. You held his head against you as you rode out your high; thrusting your hips forward, and rubbing your cunt over his entire face, his nose in particular hitting your clit and making you shudder. You let your head fall back and looked up at him. He smiled at you before backing up and lining himself up to your entrance. “Are you still okay?” 

You nodded, exhausted but ready for more. This had to be a dream. “Whatever you want.” You repeated back to him with a smile.

“Good girl.” He pushed himself easily into you and you watched his face form a scowl as he went past your tightest part. You clenched down on him and he opened an eye and smirked at you. “Tell me if it gets to be too much.” You couldn’t even answer him before he was thrusting into you quickly, his hands on your hips holding you down and pulling you against him. He was desperate to fuck you. His hips bucked wildly against you, going in and out at a sickening pace. You could only stare at him in bliss, your mouth open and deep moans escaping everytime he moved. He grunted and pulled you closer, feeling himself coming to his limit. “You’re so good. You’re taking me so well, Princess. Fuck.” He muttered. 

“Nanami-” you moaned his name as you felt another high wash over you. You yelped and shut your eyes, arching your back with a cry. You wrapped your legs around him, locking him in place as you felt him growing more desperate with each thrust. You hummed as you noticed him looking at you, once again looking like he was looking for a sign. You smiled, exhausted and nodded. That’s all he needed. 

He grunted again and thrust his hips into you one last time, roughly, as he came. You felt him shooting hot ropes of cum inside of you and you brought his head down to kiss him. He smiled against your lips. You felt his cock pulsing inside of you and your eyes closed sleepily. 

“Thank you, y/n.” 

You nodded as you felt exhaustion come over you. “You can go again if you want.” You said barely keeping your eyes open. 

“What?” 

“You made me come three times just now. I think I owe you two more rounds.” He smiled and shook his head. 

“Rest, I’ll clean you up.” You furrowed your brows and frowned. “Do you trust me?” 

“Yes, but,” your eyes closed again. “It’s not fair. Go again, I don’t mind. I’ve been dreaming about this for so long I-“ you fell asleep.

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pt. 2 pt 3. pt 4.

˚₊✩‧₊nana here: if you made it this far bless you. if you saw a typo...no you didn't. idk if i'll ever post pt 2...i guess it depends on how this does or if a certain someone somehow convinces me to post the next part—shout out to cath my biggest supporter<3