#can you tell this raises some big feelings for me?

[euthymiya]

part one ; office mate! gojo ; company heir! gojo ; female intern! reader ; fluff ; pre getting together

Satoru is good at getting things he wants. It’s not because he’s spoiled (although he’s that, too) but rather, it’s because he’s persistent. Annoyingly so. Persistent in that way where he doesn’t necessarily earn what he wants, but scores it just because the other party is tired enough to cave for the sake of some peace.

Case example: you.

You sit across from him as he happily sips on his excessively expensive coffee from all the extra syrups.

“How can you have that much sugar?” You cringe.

He raises an amused brow as he hums, “Because I don’t choose to be miserable. You should try it sometime.”

Glaring, you roll your eyes before taking a sip of your own coffee. Satoru is at least nice and chivalrous enough to pay for your coffee—although, knowing what you do now, it’s not exactly as though he can’t afford it. You’re pretty sure being the heir to the company you intern for means he’s loaded in enough money that a simple iced coffee isn’t too much of a dent in his pockets.

You give him an unimpressed frown before getting to the heart of the matter. “Why didn’t you tell me your dad owns the company?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes,” you hiss, “I’ve been passive aggressively calling you a lazy asshole for two months!”

“Do you change your mind about that?” He asks infuriatingly calmly.

“No,” you admit. You take a long look at him before nodding in confirmation as you repeat, “No, I don’t.”

He pouts a little at that, still cute and aggravating at the same time. “Hey,” he says, only a little wounded and a whole lot excessively dramatic. You can tell he didn’t get a lot of attention growing up with the way he pulls theatrics. Something about the psychology of unmet emotional needs as a child from your one semester of psych in college comes back. “You don’t have to say it so condescendingly.”

“Well, you are lazy,” you point out. He shrugs because…well, it’s a fair point. “But now I know why.”

“So what, if you knew my old man was our big boss, you’d be nicer to me? Is that it?”

You crinkle your nose and give him a look of disbelief. “No,” you say—it’s almost amused. The first ounce of humor you’ve shown around him at all. “But I wouldn’t have wasted my energy caring that you’re a deadweight in the office.”

“Ouch,” he pouts, “I bought the coffee machine on our floor!”

“It’s getting rather faulty,” you hum, “You should consider investing in another one for us.”

Satoru likes that about you. You’re interesting. Interesting not because you’re exceptionally smart or all that impressive—not that you’re bad by any means. Being accepted as an intern here must mean your resume has a degree of prestige to it, but you’re just like any other person in the building. Except, instead of shrugging off his bratty, obnoxious self, you seem to care a great deal about what he does.

It greatly amuses him enough that you’ve sparked his interest.

“You’re fun,” he chuckles, “I like you. You’re not boring.”

“Just what every woman wants to hear,” you bat your lashes, sarcastically giving him a dreamy sigh, “Not boring. How charming of you.”

He grins wider, and something in your heart does a little bit of a clench. It’s so…pretty. Everything about him is pretty. The clean, pristine button down with perfectly ironed pants. The soft, messy hair that somehow adds to his expensive look rather than take away. Those bright, piercing blue eyes that feel like you’re lost in infinity when you look into them.

He’s pretty. Pretty annoying, too—but pretty all the same.

“I’m working on it,” he murmurs.

“What? Your manners?” You snort.

“My charm,” he corrects.

“We might be here for quite some time then,” you tease. You don’t know what it is. Falling into a bantering back and forth with him is so easy—so amusing and, if you’re honest, a tiny bit exciting.

Maybe a background of wealth and fortune makes a man appealing like that. Or maybe he’s just likable. You’re not sure yet.

“You’re saying you’ll be here waiting for me to get there?” He raises a brow, winking as he adds, “So maybe you’re charmed after all.”

“That’s a stretch,” you pretend to scoff. Nevermind the hardly hidden smile on your face—that means nothing. “I just want to watch you fail, that’s all.”

“And if I succeed?” He challenges, looking at you expectantly.

You roll your eyes, deciding to indulge him in whatever petty games he has going on. “In what, being charming?”

“Yes,” he nods, “What if I succeed in being an irresistible dreamboat of an office neighbor?”

“I doubt that’ll happen,” you bite your lip in an attempt to fight back a large, dimpled grin. It’s funny, you think—just up until a few hours ago, all he ever managed to do was pull your lips into a scowl. Now, it feels like it’s impossible not to stretch them into a smile. “But, if it does, I suppose I’ll eat my own words.”

“No,” Satoru shakes his head, lips curled into a serious, unsatisfied frown, “No that simply won’t do. I need better than that.”

“Okay,” you finally laugh. It’s radiant. It comes from your belly and vibrates through your chest. He’s somehow good at it—just one coffee grab during your lunch break, and he’s already managed to earn the sound of your joy so easily. Something about that tickles a weird, unfamiliar spot under your ribcage. “Lay out your terms.”

“You have to be my girlfriend if I manage to make your eyes turn into hearts over my handsomely unbeatable appeal.”

It’s cheeky, his grin. Wide, confident, and still boyishly hopeful. You start to wonder why you ever disliked such an easy to fall for smile.

“That’s pretty bold,” you note.

“I’m bold about the things I want.” You pretend that those words don’t make your heart do a helpless flutter.

“Okay,” you nod, agreeing as you take a final sip of your coffee and hand him the empty cup, “I’ll agree to these unlikely terms. You can start by bringing me another coffee.”

“You got it, boss,” he salutes before doing a giddy little jog to the counter and ordering you another coffee. It’s cute. It has your heart in a scarily fast chokehold.

Somewhere in the heat of the moment, as you watch him fumble over his wallet and almost drop his card while he goes to pay, you think he may have already won the terms to this ridiculous agreement.

But you won’t tell him that, you think. Just to drag out the eager, hopeful look in his eyes that dart over at you and shoot you a sly wink.

———————————

here is part two as promised for @enyathedrakaina bc they sent me cat pics

[toxicanonymity]

No hard feelings

Joel miller x f!reader | 1.3k words I8+ MDNI. 1980 AU, you're a college student and have car trouble. Joel offers help, if he gets to take pics of you. Sleaze/creep, touching, pet names. Big ty to aly @iamasaddie for her 24 hr fic challenge (which had these pics) even if this doesn't fit the challenge due to length and not signing up lmao it still inspired me. I saw it last night when I read aly's hot fic, Feelings are a lot of work ❤️‍🔥❤️.

When your car broke down on a remote stretch away from campus, your face was dewy and your thighs stuck to the leather seat. You got out in your daisy dukes and thin white tee and popped the hood. You were bent over, looking at the smoking engine, when you heard a truck and looked back to see a faded yellow F-100 kicking up dust as it rolled to a stop. You tried to pull your shorts down enough to cover your ass cheeks as a man exited the truck in jeans and a teal polo with the collar all wonky. His salt and pepper hair was sweaty, and he held a cowboy hat to his chest.

“Miss,” he nodded. “Mind if I take a look?”

You agreed, and he put his hat on.

. . .

When he was done, he offered, “I could get ya fixed up long enough to get ya to the service station.”

“Thank you,” you gushed. “Thank you so much, really.”

“Oh I ain’t doin’ it for free, sugar,” he laughed darkly and your face fell.

“Alright,” you mumbled to the ground, then looked him in the eye. “Thanks for taking a look anyway.”

He looked you up and down and gave a low whistle. “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

You crossed your arms, temporarily obscuring the view of your nipples poking through the worn cotton.

“Tell ya what,” he offered. “I’mma get ya fixed up here, then you’re gonna lemme take some pictures of ya.”

“You said go straight to the station.”

“Oh we can do it right here, sugar. Got my camera’n all,” he nodded toward his truck. “Whaddya say?”

“Alright,” you agreed, without any other options. No other cars had driven by in the time since he’d been there. He nodded, put on his cowboy hat, then put a toothpick in his mouth. “Wait in the truck if ya wan’t. Grab me a beer. One for you too.”

At least the beer was cold.

You didn't wait in his truck, you lowered the tailgate of the bed of his truck and sat there with your legs dangling off the back, watching him work.

—--

Sweat blotched his polo with darker patches until he stopped, took off his hat and dabbed his forehead with his arm. Then, as he pulled the polo over his head, that’s when you recognized him.

He put his cowboy hat back on, turned around, balled up his sweaty shirt, and threw it at you. “Grab me another beer, darlin’. Almost done here.”

You'd seen that broad back before, and his padded stomach that didn’t quite hide his strong abdomen.

As you handed him a lukewarm Coors light, you asked, “Don’t you work on campus at UT?”

“Heh,” he chuckled. “Recognize me?” He brazenly studied your tits, looking back and forth at them, then your mouth.

“Guess so,” you agreed.

“Soon as I took my shirt off, huh?” He gave you a wink then went back to working on your car.

Yeah, his physique was what caught your eye on campus. He was a janitor and he wore a gray jumpsuit. One day when you were walking home from class, he must’ve been on break, because he was leaned up against a maintenance vehicle with his jumpsuit hanging down, sleeves tied around his waist, brown skin glistening in the sun, having a cigarette. He turned his head to watch you walk by and gave you a small nod, then raised his eyebrows as a he took a drag. Then he stomped his cigarette out and turned around. You ogled his muscular back, and he looked over his shoulder and caught you.

. . .

When he finished working on your car, the sun was glaring as it approached the horizon. He put his wrinkled shirt back on, stowed some tools in his truck, and came back with a Polaroid camera hanging from his neck.

“Right there’s good,” he muttered with you still sitting on the bed of the truck

You fidgeted with your clothes and crossed your knees and he snapped a pic. The camera whirred and he took out the pic, waved it through the air, then slipped it into the breast pocket of his wrinkled shirt.

“Alright, now you’re gonna be a good girl for me,” he informed you. “And y’ain’t gonna be a prude about it ether.”

Your gut twisted, but at the same time, your pussy throbbed at his commands.

“What?” You asked.

His voice became low and gravely. “We’re gonna pull that shirt up’n lemme see those titties.”

You took a deep breath, and in the time you took to hesitate, he stepped into your personal space. “Uncross those pretty stems, darlin’.”

You obediently uncrossed your legs, and he spread your knees gently with his dirty hands as he got close enough for you to smell the beer on his breath, the stench of his sweat, and the memory of cigarettes.

Getting wet with your knees spread, you were glad to provide the distraction of showing your tits.

“Lift your arms," he directed.

You did, and he gently slid his thick, grubby fingers under the sides of your shirt. He lifted the shirt and let out a low whistle as your tits fell out. “Well God damn, even prettier than I thought.” You braced your hands behind you and watched his face as you let him have a look. It was hot to think of him jacking off to these photos later.

He glanced to your eyes and you didn’t stop him from nudging the bottom of your breasts with his thumbs, watching them swell upward.

“God damn,” he whispered. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sugar.”

After snapping a pic, he directed you in a couple of poses for more pics, then stood and looked you up and down.

“One more. You’re gonna show me your panties.”

What panties? God, by this point you were so wet, the crotch of your jeans had to be soaked through.

“No panties, huh?” He asked. “Well, lemme see your bush.”

When you hesitated, he comforted you, “That’s okay, darlin’. Sorry, you’re just so damn pretty.”

But you weren't off the hook.

“One more thing, okay? Bring those pretty legs up, put your feet on the truck,” he patted the tailgate.

You did as he instructed and could smell your own arousal. He inhaled sharply through his nose as he looked between your legs and raised his eyebrows.

You looked down and away.

“Here,” he offered and put his cowboy hat on you. “Hide your face if it makes ya feel better.”

It did, a little.

He took a pic with the hat tipped down, covering your face, shirt still pulled up over your tits, legs spread wide, and a wet mess peeking out from behind the darkened crotch of your shorts.

“Smell good enough to eat,” he mumbled as he slipped the photo in his pocket and got in your personal space. “Mind if I take some for the road?”

“What?” You asked

He slid his hand up your thigh and nudged the soaked denim aside. Your skin erupted in goosebumps and your loins throbbed with need.

“Your hands are dirty,” you said.

“Shhhh, It’s okay, sugar,” he coaxed you as his fingers met your slick. He lightly ran his digits through your sticky mess, then deep growl left his chest as he slid a finger inside, making you spasm. His mouth fell open as he added another. “God damn,” he whispered.

Headlights approached in the distance, shaking him from his trance.

“Hey, you know my name?” he asked as he withdrew his hand, fingers all shiny. You put your legs back together and hopped down off the truck.

“How would I know your name,” you asked, trying not to look at the bulge in his jeans.

He closed the tailgate.

“Well it’s on my uniform, darlin’.” He looked hurt. “See me all the time, even said hi once.”

“Sorry.”

“Eh, no hard feelings. Name’s Joel Miller.”

You shared your first name, and he nodded as he added your last name and said, “yeah, I know, sugar.” He turned and walked away, leaving his hat with you.

Your heart raced, and when he got in his truck, you half expected him to return with a shotgun and take you with him. But he drove off into the sunset, dust trailing behind him.

-------

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btw you must have seen him on campus before he got this hot new uniform

Thank you for reading! If you say what you liked (or Lbr if you say anything lmao) you'll make my day ❤️

[aliendes]

SVT Reaction to you flinching during an argument

warnings: mentions of arguments and flinching during an argument, not descriptive, mentions of past trauma (?) maybe during one part, very tame and kinda fluffy, attempt at humour? man idk... let me know if I missed anything

remember my requests are OPEN for seventeen!

Seungcheol (S.Coups)

The softest man alive, fight me, I will die on this hill. Have you seen the video of Minghao cupping Cheol’s cheek and he instantly crumbles? Yeah, Cheol would immediately see you flinch or even step back away from him and he’d fold. He would never hurt you, you know that, he knows that, everyone who knows you both knows that. He literally worships the ground you walk on. But he can get heated in an argument with loud words and huge hand gestures, which might scare you. He would immediately lose the ability to be angry, or annoyed, or whatever at you and instantly start apologizing, cooing at you, and would spend the night babying you within an inch of your life. “You know I would never, ever do anything to hurt you, right princess?”

Jeonghan

Now this man can be mean, I can feel it in my bones. But he would never, ever, ever, hurt you. He is so gentle and kind, and while he can definitely have some sassy moments and might even say some things that can come off as rude, he would never in a million years raise a hand to you. If you are flinching because of him it’s probably because he’s making large hand gestures trying to get his point across, but as soon as he noticed he’d go all wide-eyed, drop his hands immediately, and completely forget what you were even arguing about. He’d make sure you allowed it before holding you and cuddling you the rest of the night, whispering sweet things into your ear as he rocked you. 

Joshua

Another gentle giant. I can’t see him even getting animated enough to make you flinch, but if you did for whatever reason he is instantly caving and probably trying to make himself seem smaller to calm you down. Whether that means getting on his knees, sitting on the couch, or even laying down to continue the conversation, he’ll do it. But he will want to continue the conversation, though in a less heated way. Would run his hands through your hair, hold your hands and kiss your knuckles, and stare into your eyes as you spoke, telling him how you’re feeling as you both try to resolve whatever the fight was about in the first place. 

Jun

Another one I can’t see actually making someone flinch, he is just too soft for his own good. But if you did flinch away from him during an argument he would be so confused by what just happened, maybe to the point where he’s looking behind him to make sure something else didn’t frighten you. Would end up losing his train of thought and reach out for you to comfort you. “Baby, you know I’d never hurt you!” Would probably pout at you after he made sure you were ok. 

Soonyoung (Hoshi)

Another gentle man with loud words and big gestures. He is part of BSS and all of BSS can get chaotic and hyper. That said, he seems the type to be pretty quiet/docile during an actual argument. The only time I can see him accidentally scaring you is if he gets really heated and shouts/yells. If this ever happened he would see you flinch and immediately cool his anger. It would be like a switch is flipped. Would lower his voice, whispering to you to make sure you’re ok, and if you cried he would probably end up crying with you in hushed tones. 

Wonwoo

He’s tall, and he’s broad, and he understands that he is much larger than you. He usually takes this into account during arguments specifically to avoid this from happening. Will usually sit down when arguing with you for this reason. The moment you flinch or try to move away from him he would probably get very steel-faced, berating himself for not being more mindful. You might take this as him being angry at you, which he would immediately crumble at. He’s not angry anymore, in fact, he just wants to make you feel loved. Will kick himself for the rest of the night and you might end up being the one to comfort him. “I feel like the worst boyfriend on the planet.”

Jihoon (Woozi)

The only member that I cannot see ever making you flinch, in any situation. Mans so calm and collected, if you are arguing with him he's probably sitting there with his arms crossed completely chill. 

Seokmin (DK)

Another member of BSS and loud boy squad. He’s also pretty tall and muscular so if you ever flinched away from him during an argument I can see it resulting in immediate tears on his end. He would feel so incredibly awful for making you think he would ever hurt you that it absolutely breaks his heart. He would try to make himself smaller, tears in his eyes as he apologizes and makes you understand that he was just trying to get his point across. Might even act more subdued in his actions for the next few days until you promise him that you weren’t really scared of him. Sulky baby. 

Mingyu

Another huge baby with a heart of gold. Because of his size alone I can see this happening with him if he is super heated or if the argument isn’t going his way and he’s trying to defend himself. Lot’s of arm movements. The moment you flinch his eyes are watering with unshed tears and he’s holding onto you for dear life. Hugging, kissing, cuddling you, completely forgets what the argument was about. You would end up reassuring him in bed later that you admire his size and strength so he doesn’t feel bad about himself for the next few days. Sulky baby #2.

Minghao (The8)

Can come off as cold and calculated, but I think this man is one of the most loving and romantic in the entire group (fight me on this). He’s also very level headed, but on the off chance that you do end up flinching during an argument, he would be super analytic about it. “Hey, come here. Sit down with me and tell me what’s going through your head.” Would make you sit with him, would rub his knuckles over your arm or shoulders as you spoke with tears in your eyes. Would make you talk it out with him before comforting you if that is what you need. Makes sure that you understand he would never hurt you and only wants to make sure whatever issues you had were resolved before you went to bed. 

Seungkwan

Final member of BSS and definitely a loud, sassy boy. You’ve all seen him argue on national television before, so this is definitely something that could happen in your relationship. However, the moment you are flinching away from him he is pouting at you (you know the face) and looking at you with those pretty wide eyes like he doesn’t understand what just happened (he doesn’t). Wants to immediately figure out why exactly you flinched, will do whatever he can to make you feel loved and appreciated in that moment, but will definitely need reassurance later that you know he would never hurt you. Sulky baby #3. 

Vernon

Might not even realize you flinched at first. Would be too in his head talking through whatever it was that you are arguing about that he doesn’t realize what has happened until you have tears in your eyes. “Baby? Was it something I said?” Poor baby will feel awful when you explain it to him. Maybe you have had bad experiences in your past that make you more scared when in arguments. Would listen and talk through it with you and promise to not make the same mistakes next time you argue, if you do. Would feel so bad after you resolved it until you reassured him that it’s ok. 

Chan (Dino)

Precious baby doesn’t always realize when he’s getting loud or gesturing widely. When you flinched he would stop dead in his tracks, rethinking all his life decisions. You could literally see the calculations taking place behind those pretty boba eyes as he figures out exactly what movement he made to make you flinch. Would promise you and himself he would never do it again and would want to cuddle with you so closely the rest of the evening that he wouldn’t even want to let you go to get ready for bed. Literally clinging to your back like a koala.

[barcarsenal12]

Girls like Girls pt 2

summary: after her talk with her teammates, r begins to reckon with the changes to her identity. A huge invasion of her privacy leads to a very upsetting, very public reveal. Luckily, her teammates are there to pick up the pieces.

TW: coming out, questioning sexuality, panic attack, pg13: making out

The days and weeks after your breakdown were easier. It felt like a release-- like you needed to pull the plug, and  all of your emotions out before you could start to reconcile. You started to come back from the panic that had gripped your body, and you found your footing in football again. 

Still, you were constantly aware that something had shifted within you. Sometimes that knowledge would threaten to overwhelm you, othertimes it felt inconsequential, but it always sat like a weight in your stomach. 

Mapi, Ingrid and Alexia kept an awkwardly close eye on you for a little while. That very first afternoon, when they held you on the locker room floor, Alexia brought you home with her and tucked you into her spare bedroom. She refused to leave your side until she could see that your thoughts had settled. In the days that followed, they seemed to have collectively decided to give you space. They checked in on you daily, but never brought up your sexuality, as if they wanted you to initiate any conversation on the topic. You found yourself in their presence more and more. The four of you started to spend more time together outside of training. You felt so loved, but at the same time a little embarrassed for making something as teeny as your sexuality such a big deal. They didn’t seem to have such issues with their own sexualities, after all. 

Still, being around 3 women who were so deeply in love with other women helped you more than you could tell them. As you began to settle in with your new identity, you began to seak out their support.  

--- 

Two weeks after your realization, you found yourself on Mapi and Ingrid’s couch, tucked snugly into Aletlexia’s side. A movie was playing, but it was late, and you were fairly certain that Mapi and Ingrid were both sound asleep. They were curled up on the other end of the sofa, and both seemed to be breathing heavily. Alexia’s arm was around you, and you would have thought that she was asleep, too, if not for the mindless way that she played with your hair. 

“Ale?” You whispered into the dark, figuring that if she didn’t hear you would just drop it. 

“Hm?” She hummed back.

“Can I talk to you?” 

Alexia hand in your hair stopped, and she slowly reached for the remote to pause the movie before pulling away from your grip to see your face. 

“Always,” She looked at you with concern. 

You glanced nervously at Mapi and Ingrid, who were very clearly asleep. “I think that I’m definitely gay.” You whispered, almost as if it was a secret. 

Alexia laughed quietly, and reached up to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “Ok, neña.”

“Like, I think all the way.” 

She raised her eyebrows. “You think that you are a lesbian?”

You bit your lip, and nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” 

She pulled you into her, resting your back against her body again. “I think that I am too.” She whispered back. You could hear her grin, and you laughed, too, and flicked her leg. “I’m glad that you are figuring it out. I know that this is very scary.” She said, still quietly. 

“Yeah,” you said, looking down, “can I ask you a question?”

“Okay.” 

“How did you know?” You asked.

“That I was gay?” She confirmed, and you hummed in response. 

“I was young, I started to catch feelings for Jenni.” She started. “I wasn’t sure if I liked her as a friend or as more,” she continued, “but one day she kissed me.” 

You giggled, and Alexia poked you in the side. “Callarse or I’m never going to tell you things ever again.” 

You covered your mouth. 

“She kissed me, and I realized that it was definitely more than friends.” She exhaled sharply. “Mapi was already out, so it was easy for me to follow her path.”

You nodded. 

“Do you like someone, pequeña?”

You thought for a moment that you were talking about crushes with your captain. It crossed your mind that you should be embarrassed, but somehow here, in the dark, you weren’t 

“No, but I think I might like to find a girlfriend.” 

Alexia pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “Just pick someone good for you. I never liked your boyfriends.” 

“I will,” you laughed, “Thank you, Ale.” 

---

It was another two weeks before you found yourself at a club Before long, you were past tispy and had made no complaints when a pretty girl began to lead you outside, away from your friends. You suddenly felt woefully unprepared, as if you had never even had your first kiss, and your heart almost beat out of your chest as she pulled you into the alley behind the bar. 

She reached for you, her finger tips tracing your jaw and the back of your ear before tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck. You could feel her breath on your face, and you thought that you might pass out from the anticipation. She was gentle, though, and she leaned in slowly, brushing your lips with her own before pulling back. You followed her, leaning forward as she pulled away. 

“I-” You started, but were cut off as she leaned back towards you, kissing you with a slow intesity that no man had ever been able to give you. Her hands were in your hair, and yours were tracing her spine, and you were melting into her, disintegrating, and you were sure that your legs were giving out, but somehow you were still standing. 

She must have sensed that you were struggling to hold your weight because a minute later you were pressed against the wall of the bar. You gasped as your back collided with the bricks, and she took the opportunity to push her tongue between your lips. The world around you disappeared as all of your outside senses dulled, as if turning all of their energy to this girl in your arms. 

She pulled back and began pressing feather light kisses to your jaw. She traced her way down to your neck, and you brought your hand up to the back of her head, pushing her closer to you. You moaned as she left a mark, and pulled her back up to find her lips with your own again. you pressed your knee between her legs and she groaned into your mouth, pushing you back against the wall and deepening your kiss. 

You jolted apart at the sound of your phone ringing. You flipped it over, and sighed at the sight of Mapi’s name on it’s screen. 

“I have to take this,” you apologized, voice full of regret. 

She leaned closer to you. “Ok,” she whispered in your ear. You swallowed, and your hand shook as you brought your phone up to your ear. 

“Hey Mapi,” you mumbled, hoping that your voice wasn’t wobbling. 

“Hey nena” Mapi responded. As she spoke, the girls against you began to kiss your collarbone, and you had to fight to keep your voice steady. 

“What’s up?” You asked.  

“Nothing much. Just checking in.” The girl’s hand traveled down your body, and you gasped as she reached the waistband of your pants. You tilted your head back against the wall, trying to keep your composure. 

“I’m fine.” You said, knowing that fewer words were better right now. 

“Ok,” Mapi said, suspicious, “Do you need a ride to training tomorrow?”

You closed your eyes, and tried to focus your mind, but the girls fingers were now brushing over the cloth of pants between your legs, and your head felt like mush. “Sure, Mapi that would be great. Listen, I need to go. Have a good night.” You hung up the phone before Mapi could respond, and brought your attention back to the girl. She brought her mouth back up to yours, and you groaned as she removed her hand, brushing her fingers across your cheek. 

“Come back to mine?” She whispered, her voice a question. 

You sighed. As drunk on her as you were, you knew that you couldn’t have a one night stand with training the next day. 

“I can’t,” you breathed. She frowned at you. 

“Can I at least get your number?” She asked, and you nodded happily. 

“Would you want to get dinner sometime?” You asked, like her tongue hadn’t just been inside your mouth. 

She laughed as you put your number into her phone. “Sure. I’ll text you.” 

She kissed you one last time, the walked off to find her friends. You took a moment to compose yourself, before staring the short walk back to your apartment. 

---

When you got home, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your face was flushed, your hair was messy, and you pressed a hand to your mouth to keep yourself from laughing out loud. 

---

It was Ingrid that saw the news article first. She didn’t make it a habit to check football news, especially not the tabloids, but she happened to stumble upon the pictures posted by a fan account on instagram. Her eyes widened at the photos and she quickly scanned the attached news piece. The initial shock of seeing you with someone, when she hadn’t even know that you were thinking about dating or starting to experiment with women, faded as she realized what this would mean for you. She ran a hand through her hair, sighing to herself and wondering how the world could be so cruel. Ingrid picked up her phone and clicked on your contact. When the phone rang out, she grabbed her car keys and ran out her door. 

Today was an away game, but because both Ingrid and you were sidelined with minor injuries, you had both stayed home. Mapi and Alexia, on the other hand, were on the bus heading home. As Ingrid started to pull out of her driveway, she connected her phone to her car speaker and dialed Mapi. When Mapi didn’t pick up, she called Alexia, who thankfully picked up on the first ring. 

“Ale”, she sighed out. 

“Hola,” Alexia responded, “Is everything ok?”

“Have you been on instagram?” Ingrid asked.

“No.” Alexia said. “Why?”

“It’s Y/N”. Ingrid answered. She waited a moment, as Alexia opened instagram and was immediately looking at pictures of your face. 

“Mierda,” Alexia mumbled, “How quickly can you get to her?” 

“I’m on my way,” Ingrid responded. 

--- 

You had never in your life felt this kind of fear. It crashed over you, in wave after wave that slowly broke you down. You had seen the post on instagram, instantly recognizing yourself, the girl,  and the bar that you were at that night. This part of you that was so raw, so fresh, so not ready to be shared, had been thrust into the world. Now the waves were pulling on you. They were pushing you down, down, underwater, where you surely would drown. You couldn’t remember how to breath properly, and you were suddenly aware of the fact that you would probably never breath again. 

This was it. This was where you drowned. 

Somewhere in the back of your mind you registered the knocking, but all of your senses were dulled. You couldn’t hear anything past the waves crashing over your head and stealing the air from your lungs.

 You suddenly couldn’t even remember what you were so worried about in the first place. All that you knew was the anxiety that consumed your entire body. You were dying. Of course you were. This was it. 

--- 

When Ingrid realized that you were not going to open you front door, she frantically started to search for your spare key. She checked the doormat and the mailslot before finally finding it tucked away above your doorframe. She sighed with relief, and quickly shoved her way into your home. 

“Y/N?” She called, but got no answer. She poked her head into your kitchen, and upon seeing you curled into a ball, heaving with unfinished breaths, dropped her things and kneeled down before you. 

“Sweetheart,” She said, although she was sure that you couldn’t hear her. Every part of your body was shaking. She wasn’t sure that you could even be considered crying, you couldn’t seem to get enough air into your lungs to form sobs. You were wrapped around yourself, gasping desperately for air. 

“Kjære,” Ingrid tried again, tapping lightly at your hand, “Can you hear me? I need you to breath.” When you didn’t respond again, she grabbed your face and connected your eyes, trying hopelessly to get through to you. She had never felt so helpless. 

Ingrid’s phone rang, and she picked it up immediately. 

“Maria,” She said.

“Ingrid? Are you with her? Is she ok?” “Si, I’m with her. I don’t know what to do, Maria, nothing’s helping.” She said desperately. 

“What’s wrong?” Mapi asked. 

“Shes-” Ingrid took a breath, “I’ve never seen a panic attack this bad in my life. I don’t know how to help her.” 

Mapi inhaled sharply, “She’s having a panic attack?” 

“Yeah,” Ingrid confirmed, and heard rapid spanish and a loud exclamation on the other end as Mapi passed the information to Alexia. 

“Mapi, help,” Ingrid said, on the verge of tears herself as she watched your body fold further in on itself.

“Breathe, amor. Don’t freak out.” Mapi said. Ingrid refrained from pointing out that Mapi seemed an awful lot like she was freaking out. “Ale and I just got off the bus. We’ll drive straight there, 15 minutes tops. 

Ingrid sighed in relief. “Ok.” 

“You’re doing everything right, Cariño. We’ll be there soon.”  

“Please hurry.” 

---

Alexia could not sit still as Mapi drove them towards your home. Her knees bounced and her hands ran through her hair, and she tried to prepare herself for what she would see when she got to you, tried to think of what she could do to make this better. Mapi, on the other hand, had never felt this much rage in her life. She remembered your fears, and to see them coming to life sent waves of anger through her body. 

Mapi pulled in to your driveway, and barely put the car in park before Alexia was throwing the door open and barreling towards your apartment. Mapi caught up to her as she pushed your front door open. 

“Y/n?” Alexia called, “Ingrid?”

“In here!” Ingrid responded from the kitchen. 

They followed her voice, and Alexia let out a short gasp when she saw you, curled in on yourself, still gasping for breath. She fell to her knees in fron of you, quickly taking you into her arms. 

Mapi took in the scene in front of her and went straight to Ingrid, who looked wrecked. Mapi pulled her into a hug. “Has she gotten any better?” She whispered into Ingrid’s dark hair. 

“No,” Ingrid whispered against her shoulder, “She’s been like this since I got here.” 

Alexia’s full attention was on you, trying every trick that she knew to get you to calm down. 

“Chica?” She said, taking your face between her hands. “Can you hear me?” 

You weren’t real anymore. You didn’t think that you ever had been real. You were still tumbling, desperately stuck in your mind. Somewhere, you registered muffled voices and felt hands on your skin, but the waves of panic pushed you over again and again, forcing you back underwater. You had little breath to waste on trying to speak, but you so desperately needed help, before you life surely ended. Already, the edges of your vision were getting hazier. 

“Ayudame,” you rasped out, and Alexia felt her heart break. 

“I’ve got you. I have you, mi nina.” She said, frantically pulling you back into her. 

“Ale, she needs to breath,” Ingrid said, “or she’s going to pass out.” 

Alexia looked back at her, tears of frustration threatening to fall. “I don’t know what to do.” She said, desperately. She squeezed you tight, praying that the pressure would get through to you. You continued to squirm, fully gasping for air now. 

All at once, your body sagged against her, your eyes fluttering closed. Finally, your breathing evened out. 

“Nena?” She said, tapping your cheeks with her fingertips, before looking at Ingrid and Mapi in panic. 

“It’s ok,” Mapi exhaled shakily, “her body did what it needed to.” 

--- 

When you woke, it took a moment before you could place yourself. You delicately pried your eyes open, and quickly realized that you weren’t alone. Someone’s hands were combing through your hair. Ingrid’s, you realized. You were leaned against her, stretching across your couch. Alexia was sat in the chair across from you, her head in her hands. Mapi was here too, sitting on the floor with her back leaning against the couch by your feet. . 

Your first thought was to be worried about how upset Alexia looked. Then, the memory of what had happened crashed over you again. You closed your eyes, hoping to stay here, where you felt so impossibly safe, for as long as possible. You must have moved, though, because Ingrid was softly calling in your ear. 

“Neña?”

You opened your eyes again and met her gaze. She exhaled in relief, her shoulders sagging, and you flushed guiltily, realizing how much you had worried your friends. “Hi, Ing.” 

Alexia jumped up at your voice and was beside you in a second. “Y/N,” she said, running a hand across your sweaty forehead, “how are you feeling?” 

You shrugged and pushed yourself into a sitting position, ignoring the question. “When did you guys get here?” You asked. 

“A few hours ago,” Mapi chimed in from the doorway to your kitchen, “You were a little--” she cut herself off,  “you weren’t feeling so well.” 

“Neña,” Alexia said seriously, touching your hand lightly, “have you ever had a panic attack like that before?”

You shook your head, not meeting her eyes. She sat on the couch beside you, pulling you into her and pressing a kiss into your head. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, mi nina. You never have to be embarrassed.”

You sunk into her side. 

“I’m so glad you’re ok.” she whispered to you, pushing your hair behind your ear. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

You didn’t need to ask her to clarify, your eyes already filling up with tears. “I just, I so wasn’t ready for the world to know. I was just trying something… new, and now everyone knows, and I didn't even get to choose to tell them or not.” You paused, brushing a tear from your cheek. “It feels so personal, so private. I only just figured this out, and I needed more time to be able to explore it by myself.” 

“I know, cariño,” Alexia said, “It is so unfair that this happened to you.” 

You turned your head, catching Ingrid’s eye. “Do you think the team will be mad?” 

She laughed, and smiled at you. “Mad? Elskling, they will be thrilled.”  

“You don’t have to worry about being the odd one out there,” Mapi chimed in, but you noticed that her smile was too tight. 

You smiled back, but another tear rolled down your cheek. 

“Is there something else?” Alexia asked you, brushing the tear from your cheek. 

“I just--” you looked away, swallowing sharply, “there were a couple comments that freaked me out.” 

Alexia’s face dropped, “oh, neña.” She was, of course, not stranger to homophobic comments, but remembered too well how much the first ones had hurt. “What did they say?” 

“They were dming me, calling me gross and saying that they would… make me like guys,” All three of the women around you sucked in a sharp breath, and you continued quickly. “I know that I don’t know them, and I shouldn’t let it bother me, but it just, I guess it just--” 

“Y/N,” Ingrid interrupted you, “you know that you’re safe, right?” 

You nodded. “I know that they can’t get to me, but the fact that they want to--” 

Alexia took a deep breath, and when she spoke her voice was sharp. “That’s really, really scary. Those are awful people. You are not gross, and you are protected from people like that. Do you hear me?”

“Si, Ale,” you nodded, surprised by her tone, “I hear you.” 

Mapi suddenly pushed her way to her feet, and walked into the kitchen. 

Ingrid watched her go, and smiled at you before standing up to follow her.

You looked at Alexia in surprise. 

“She is just angry. Really, really angry at the people saying these things to you. I don’t think that she wants you to see her mad.”

You nodded slowly, and sat in silence while Alexia ran her hand up and down your back. A minute later, Mapi and Ingrid walked back in and sat down across from you. Mapi clutched Ingrid’s hand. “I’m sorry, neña, I know that you are so strong, but it just makes me very upset to see you being treated this way.” 

“I don’t want to make you upset.” 

“You could never make me upset. They make me upset, the people saying these things to you, and you so don’t deserve it. I know that this sucks. But we’re here for you, ok?” She said,

“Ok,” you responded, looking around and meeting the eyes of each of the women around you, “thank you,” you whispered. 

You smiled at Alexia, and she smiled back, and you felt so, so, endlessly grateful to be surrounded by so much love. 

A/N: I know that is has been a while!! I finally found the motivation for this. Sorry not sorry.

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 30

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, NSFW, MDNI, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: Talia is ... not a great mom. Luckily Reader is! Fluff, some hurt/comfort, some big emotions and intense conversations, more fluff, and holiday themed Wayne family shenanigans!

wc: 4.2k

Chapter Selection

 “I don't fully understand what you've done to make that girl so loyal to you, but it is impressive. Well done, Damian.”

Damian breathed slowly, forcing a calm, emotionless exterior. “Mother?”

“The girl who tried to tell me she was ‘just doing Jason a favor by doing his father a favor’ by being your emergency contact at school.” Talia smirked. “Someone obviously warned her about me, and yet she was willing to lie to my face for you. It was almost believable too. Almost.”

Damian stayed very still, hands held behind his back, posture perfect, face blank. Talia observed him, frowning slightly. “What is not at all believable … is you pretending you don't care about her too.”

He clenched his jaw, tilting his head ever so slightly; “... I don't know wha-”

“Don't lie to me, Damian. This girl means something to you. What?”

He slowly met his mother's firm gaze; “... She's Todd's girlfriend. She has a bigger heart than is good for her; she is no threat to anyone.”

Talia raised an eyebrow, “... And what is she to you?”

“... She is kind.”

Talia frowned a bit, leaning forward to examine his face for any hint of his true feelings. Moments passed before she pulled back to her full height, a dissatisfied look on her face. “... Be wary of that girl, Damian. Kindness is the wrapping, but what you will actually receive is weakness. … I will allow you to stay, but this is the final straw. Your strange affection for those animals was one thing, but this… If you still wish to live here, you must get yourself under control before I am forced to bring you home for retraining.”

“I understand. I will not disappoint you, Mother.”

She nodded once, looking him over again. “... Bruce is treating you well?”

“Father is good to me.”

“And the others?”

“... They have accepted me as family. … They are also kind.”

She nodded. “... Very well. The League is watching you, Damian.”

He nodded once before she turned to leave. “... Goodbye, Mother.”

Talia finally left Gotham, and Jason and I prepared for Thanksgiving at the manor. Jason's Thanksgiving traditions started the day before, so on Wednesday afternoon we headed over. Alfred invited us in, hugging Jason tightly. We tossed our overnight bags in his room, and Jason led me down toward the kitchen. I brought down two large tupperwares full of ma'amoul cookies I had made for everyone.

Alfred was standing by the counter, mixing something, and Jason and I washed our hands. He took a seat at a large table where there were some washed vegetables. I sat beside him, and he grinned; “ever since my first Thanksgiving at the manor, I've helped Alfred with some of the holiday meal prep work. Mostly cutting veggies and stuff.”

“Cute~” I chuckled, kissing his cheek. “Can I help?”

“If you'd like, but if you want to just sit with me, you can do that too.” He smiled softly.

“I'd like to help. I hate to feel like a mooch.”

Alfred chuckled, bringing over another cutting board and knife. “You could never be a ‘mooch’, dear girl. You are our guest.”

“Thank you, Alfred, but still. If my mother heard I was invited over for the holidays and didn't help with something she'd be incredibly cross with me.”

He chuckled, nodding once. “Very well then. Master Jason knows what needs to be done.”

I nodded, and Jason offered me the bowl of potatoes. “You wanna peel and cube potatoes?”

“Works for me!” I got started, and moments later Dick, Tim, and Cass peered into the kitchen. “... Hi guys?”

Tim frowned, stepping forward and circling me. He seemed to be examining me for something. “... Look at me.”

I frowned, but turned to look at his face. He peered into my eyes, frowning deeply. “... What?”

“... Well, she doesn't appear to be possessed, and she's definitely not a zombie.” He turned to the others.

“What?? What's going on?”

Jason frowned deeply, giving Tim a pointed stare; “explain.”

Dick piped up; “did you really manage to lie to Damian's mother?”

“... I mean, I survived.” I shrugged.

“And she believed your lies?”

“No, she did not.” Damian piped up, entering the kitchen. He pushed a chair close to mine and sat down; “however, she said it was almost believable.”

I froze, clenching my jaw. Fuck. What had I done? “... I- is she taking you away? Jason said she might…”

Damian shook his head, hesitantly squeezing my wrist. “She said I can stay, for now.”

I slowly released my breath, dropping my potato and peeler. My hands were shaking, and my vision blurred. I rested my elbows on the table and pressed my palms to my forehead, trying desperately to calm down.

“… Good…” I barely heard the strained, sharp approximation of the word that I managed to force out. My pulse was thrumming in my ears, and I could feel my heart beating much too fast. My face was hot and wet, and my breathing was strained.

Tim cleared his throat awkwardly; “... H- hey, it's ok. She's gone now.”

Jason gently rubbed my back, and I felt Damian shift closer. “... Sister? … Why are you crying?”

I kept trying to control my breathing; “... I … I just can't lose ya, kiddo … i- if she took you away because of me, … I don't know what I'd do…”

A gentle hand pressed between my shoulder blades, and Alfred leaned over me, setting a cup of tea in front of me, along with a soft white hankie. “Breath, Miss. … Miss Talia did not take Master Damian. We will never allow her to take him against his will.”

I slowly nodded and he rubbed my back a few times before stepping away. I shakily reached down for the cup. Dick and Tim awkwardly smiled at me.

“Yeah, what Alfred said.” Tim nodded.

“Yeah, finders keepers - Damian's our problem now, she doesn't get to take him back.” Dick chuckled.

I carefully sipped my tea, smiling weakly. I didn't know how he knew, but Alfred made it exactly how I liked it. Once I set the cup down, Damian took my hand, squeezing tight. I turned toward him, a bit surprised by the determined look in his eyes. “I will never leave you, Sister. I promise... Not unless you tell me to go.”

I sniffled softly and nodded. “I will never send you away, baby brother.”

Before I could open my arms to offer a hug, he leaned in to take one. Dick and Tim stilled, staring like toddlers at the zoo as I wrapped my arms around him and kissed the top of his head.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Tim fumble with his jeans pocket, trying to covertly get his phone.

“Do it and I end you, Drake.” Damian growled softly.

I giggled, stroking his back gently. He pulled back and I reluctantly released him. I saw the boys shift toward the doorway, and I looked over. Bruce smiled awkwardly, and I hesitantly smiled back.

“B, tell me you saw that.” Dick pleaded softly. Bruce nodded once.

Damian scowled, pushing his chair back a bit. I chuckled softly, going to the sink to wash my hands again. “Don’t make a big deal, Dick.”

“But it is a big deal! I mean … seriously, Damian, where did that come from?”

Damian shoved past them to escape the kitchen and his brothers’ questions as I returned to the table, peeling the potatoes in front of me. “And that is exactly why he doesn't usually do that. So, once again, please, don't make a big deal.”

Dick sputtered a bit more as Alfred ushered them all out of the kitchen. As the man headed into the pantry, Jason leaned over to kiss my shoulder; “good job, mama~”

I blushed a bit, hushing him softly. “Jay!”

“What? Damian can't hear me. And you've made it very obvious, you care more about him than his actual mother. I know he insists you're ‘Sister’, but that's just because he knows his mom would lose her mind over being replaced.” He smirked a bit, whispering; “you and I both know, whether we call it that or not, you're being his mama. And you're doing a damn good job of it too.”

I blushed more, smiling into my chest. “... How so?”

“Last time Talia came to check on him, he was withdrawn and broody for a month after. This time she's been gone for a day and he's already socializing with the family. That's all you, ma.”

I smiled softly, finishing cubing the potatoes. “... You're a sweetheart, Jay. But you shouldn't give me credit for his progress. He does the work, he fights for it tooth and nail, I just provide a safe space. Just like I do for you.” I leaned in to kiss him gently; “you both work so hard to heal from your pasts; to be better and do better…”

His cheeks and ears turned pink as he leaned in, whispering; “you make it possible.”

I dried my hands and cupped his cheeks, whispering back; “you do the work. I just make sure you're safe and taken care of while you do it. It is so much easier to sit in your trauma and just accept that that's how things are now. Fighting your demons is painful, and complicated, and incredibly brave. You are fighting an enemy that doesn't tire, doesn't fall back to regroup, doesn't even die. And yet you have pushed them back. You’ve told your demons that they do not own the territory of your mind, you do. You've made remarkable progress, and you should be proud of yourself. Don't ever give away the credit for your victories; they are yours, you earned them. I'm just here to support you in the fight.”

He blinked a bit, hugging me tightly. “... Damn, baby girl. … Ok.”

I smiled softly, tilting his head up to kiss him gently. He sighed happily, kissing back. A moment later, Alfred cleared his throat from behind us.

Jason jumped back, blushing bright red as Alfred spoke in an intentionally calm, measured voice; “if you two are done with those vegetables, I believe the others are starting a movie in the family room.”

Jason cleared his throat, nodding. “Y- yeah, thanks Alfred.”

We brought the veggies over and Alfred offered Jason a bowl of popcorn. He gently gripped my elbow, gesturing for Jay to go, before offering me a small piece of paper. “My mobile phone number, Miss.”

I blinked a bit, taking it. “Oh… thanks. … Why?”

He chuckled; “you said it yourself, Miss. You are here to support them. … Young Miss Barbara and I have been the only members of the support team for quite a while; it will be nice to have a third teammate to work with.”

I smiled softly. “I see. Then I look forward to working with you, Alfred.”

He nodded, offering me a large bowl of popcorn. “Master Bruce mentioned you'll be providing medical care.”

I nodded, gathering the cookies I'd brought before taking the bowl. “That's right, once I have the necessary training.”

“... It is a big job, taking care of the Waynes.”

“It’s not a job to me, Alfred, it’s just love. … The trick is loving people the way they need to be loved. The way they’ll accept love. Jason is … so brave, and kind. He’s good to everyone but himself. He needs someone to be good to him. Someone to tend to his wounds, to chase away the nightmares, and be a safe port in the storm. I can do those things for him. Damian needs space to be a child. Someone he can trust to take care of the responsibilities, and just let him experience being young. And I can do that for him. … It’s not a job to love them, it’s my greatest pleasure. And it’s an honor to be someone they trust, especially when they have been punished so harshly for their trust in the past…”

He smiled warmly, nodding. “Exactly, dear girl. Love is not a mere emotion, or empty words. It is action, and loving the Waynes, loving them well, … it takes a certain fortitude. Fortitude I believe you have.”

“Thank you, Alfred. … I won't let you down.”

“Oh, you mustn't do this for me, Miss. There must be something inside you calling you to serve.”

I chuckled softly; “not to worry, there is. Obviously I love Jason and Damian very much, and the others, … they've all been such good friends to me. I was taught to take care of my friends. … The world is not always the beautiful, bright place we were promised as children. But I know how to make candles. And if my candles aren't enough to push back the darkness, I can make more. If there still aren't enough candles, I will build a bonfire. And if that’s not enough, if the darkness presses in anyway, … I will lasso the sun if I must.”

Alfred smiled at that. “... I believe you would, Miss. … Go now, enjoy the movie.”

I nodded, smiling softly. “Thank you, Alfred.”

I headed to the family room, taking a seat on the couch between my boys. Damian stared at the tupperwares in my hands intensely. “... What did you bring?”

I chuckled, offering him one of them before setting the other on the table. “This one is just for you, and the other is for everyone to share.”

He slowly opened the tupperware, grinning. “... You … made ma'amoul?”

“You said your mother used to make them for you during the holidays. Your holiday traditions are just as important as the rest of ours.”

He held the tupperware to his chest and leaned against me for a moment, mumbling; “... Thank you, Sister.”

I smiled softly, running my fingers through his hair. “You're very welcome, baby.”

I was woken in the morning to Dick playfully pounding on Jason's door with both fists and singing; “Waaakeyyyy waaakeyyyy! You two better not be nakeyyyyy!”

Jason groaned, grasping blindly at his bedside table. He got ahold of his alarm clock and threw it. Dick cried out, startled, at the noise of it crashing against the door, making me giggle softly. Jay's arms pulled my back against his chest as he grumbled softly; “... Fuckin’ Dick …”

“... Hm ... Think his parents named him that on purpose?”

After a moment of silence, Jason snorted softly, burying his face into my neck. “Dork …. Ughhh, ’s too early… wha' time is it even?”

I chuckled, grabbing my phone to check the time. “... 9am.”

He growled, pulling me closer. “... Mh. … Much too early.”

A soft knock on the door drew a more aggressive growl out of him. I laughed, calling out; “yeaaah?”

“Dick was supposed to get you for breakfast.” Duke called through the door.

“Thanks Duke, we'll be down soon. Start without us, ok?”

“Kay.”

I slowly turned over to face Jason. He sighed, opening one eye. “... Now that's not fair.”

“What?” I frowned.

“You got startled awake just like I did, but you’re already fully recovered and you look like a goddess. Meanwhile I look and feel half-dead.”

I giggled, running my fingers through his hair. “Aw, but you look cute all sleepy like this~”

He grunted softly, blinking slowly. “Oh do I?”

“Very cute. Plus, your voice sounds extra amazing in the mornings~ that's truly unfair.”

He smirked softly, kissing my forehead. “Mh~ ... Let's blow off breakfast. Just stay in bed and cuddle all day.”

I chuckled, stroking down his chest. “But I'm hungry … plus, you know Dick or Steph will come knocking if we're not down there soon.”

He sighed, stroking my hip. “... Yeah … ok, fine.”

We slowly disentangled, getting dressed for the day. Jason had told me family holidays were always a casual-clothes affair at Wayne Manor, thank goodness, so we ended up at breakfast surrounded by sweatpants, joggers, and pj's. 

Dick grinned, already done with his food by the time we came down, and watched us eat. I blinked a bit; “... Dick?”

“Hm?”

“... Ya good?”

“No, I'm not good. You aren't eating.” He frowned.

“You're staring.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “He wants to start on the tree, but we don't start the tree until everyone's had breakfast.”

“... I see. Well, stop staring and I'll eat.” Dick sighed, his leg bouncing uncontrollably.

We all finished breakfast, and Dick practically herded the group to the family room. I looked around, frowning a bit. “... Is Bruce not joining us?”

“Ah, he's in the cave…. Bruce doesn't do much on holidays. Especially Christmas, so … he doesn't do this part of Thanksgiving.” Tim smiled weakly.

“... Why?”

“... He misses his parents.”

“Oh. … Well that's super sad.” I frowned.

Dick shrugged. “It is what it is. He'll be up for dinner though.”

I nodded slowly. Dick made us all sit in a semi-circle on the floor around a large pine tree. The tree had been set up at some point in the night after our movie, and I hoped Alfred hadn't been made to lug it in on his own.

“Now,” Dick grinned, surrounded by plastic tubs; “as most of you know, there will be other trees in the ballroom and foyer, for the Christmas gala. But, the family room is our room, and as such, this is our tree. Where the other trees will be elegant, themed decorations, fit for the public eye, this tree, our tree, will be the gaudiest, ugliest, least public-appropriate Christmas tree in all of Gotham! As Bat-family tradition, the youngest present family member will provide the first ornament on the chopping block.”

Damian rolled his eyes affectionately, standing. He approached a tub and removed the lid, selecting a cardboard and construction paper star. It had clearly been a child's craft project; the points were uneven, the glitter was half gone, and there was a small photo of Batman and one of the Robin's in the center. “I present the ugliest ornament in the Wayne Family Collection; made as a present to Father by one Jason Peter Todd for his first Christmas at the manor, age 12.”

There was a round of applause as Damian put the ornament on the tree and Jason bowed dramatically. I giggled, watching everyone take turns presenting their bid for the ugliest ornament in the collection. There were some truly hideous options, and a few I wasn't sure were meant to be kept past the Christmas they were made for. Finally, Dick gestured for me to stand.

“Now, as this is your first Christmas with our family, tradition dictates that you act as our judge.”

“Judge?”

“If you would.” He gestured to the tree. “Which decoration is the absolute worst in the Wayne family collection?”

I looked them over, chuckling softly. “... This is a no hurt feelings contest?” Everyone agreed. “And what does the winner get?”

“Bragging rights, and the offending item is finally thrown away.”

I chuckled again. “I see … ok, well … this ceramic mouse has incredibly unsettling eyes …” Tim pumped his fist. “Buuut, the name of the game is ‘ugliest’, not ‘unsettling’, so … I think I will give it to Cass.”

I pointed to the popcorn garland Cass had put up. What little popcorn remained was mostly flattened, and had been spray painted white and yellow, creating a poor illusion of fresh buttered popcorn. Cass smirked, bowing while the others groaned and clapped.

“Thank you for your service to our family, Judge.” Dick shook my hand, grinning. He ripped the ‘garland’ off the tree, dramatically handing it off to Cass who threw it in the trash. “I hereby declare this tree ready to decorate!”

We spent the afternoon eating snacks, watching seasonal movies, and taking turns adding ornaments, lights, and other decorations to the tree. Periodically Dick went up and rearranged things, he was apparently unusually particular about ornament placement. By the time we were done, it had the strangest assortment of decorations I had ever seen. Craft projects, tinsel, lights, vintage, modern, every color and theme imaginable, it was all there! It was everything Dick's speech had promised; ugly, gaudy, and not at all something the public would expect to see at Wayne Manor.

Once our movie was done, Dick called us all back to the tree. He made a few more adjustments, circling it slowly. “Well done, team! This is by far the ugliest tree we've ever done! You should all be proud of yourselves for your efforts. … But, it's not complete just yet.”

He pulled out a selection of velvet boxes and opened the first one. “Let's see … looks like Duke is first this year!”

Duke grinned and took the box, popping out a glass sphere ornament, about the size of his fist. It had a pearlescent finish, and his name painted on it in black in an elegant cursive font. He found a spot for it -one of the spots Dick had so carefully constructed during his ornament rearranging all afternoon- and sat back down. Dick opened the next box, and Stephanie was called up to put an identical ornament, this one adorned with her name, on the tree. One by one everyone put up an ornament with their name on it, until there were four boxes left.

“As we all know, Babs is with her dad today. She will add her ornament when she visits tomorrow. Alfred will be in after dinner to add his, and Bruce will come in when he's feeling up to it. … So, that just leaves…” he held a box out to Jason; this one was adorned with a red bow.

I tilted my head, curious. Jason had already put up his ornament. He turned to me, beaming, and offered me the box. “This one is for you, my love.”

I blushed bright red, slowly taking it from his hand. I popped it open, and there it was; an ornament, identical to all theirs, with my name painted in a swirling cursive font.

“I … I don't know what to say …” I blinked, trying desperately not to tear up.

Tim chortled; “oh no, we broke her!”

Damian shushed him, scooting closer. “You don't have to say anything, Sister. Just put your ornament on the tree.”

I chuckled softly, carefully removing it from its box, and stood. Dick helped me find an empty spot for it, and I delicately hung my ornament. He grinned, offering me a tight hug. “Welcome to the family, little sister.”

I got a glass of water before heading up to bed. Dinner had been incredible, we'd played some games, and the house was finally settling in for the night. I put my glass in the sink and made my way up the stairs, going down one hallway and then another, slowly making my way toward Jason's room.

“Father?” I heard Damian’s soft voice around the corner.

“Yes?”

“... Do you know any lullabies?” I could barely hear the whispered words.

“Of course?….”

“... Ok.” After a brief silence, Damian walked briskly past me, staring at the floor in front of him. Bruce turned the corner and watched him go, a confused look on his face. We made eye contact and I hesitantly smiled.

“... Bruce, can I ask you something?” Damian’s door snapped shut at the other end of the hall.

He sighed; “... yes?”

“What did Damian just ask you?”

“If I know any lullabies.”

I shook my head; “those are the words he used, but … that’s not what he was asking.”

“Fine, why don’t you tell me then, since you’re so smart? What was my son asking?” He snapped.

I bit back the sharp retort on the tip of my tongue. This was for Damian, I had to be gentle; “... As I’m sure you know, Damian struggles to request things. He’d rather die than suffer the humiliation of asking for something he desperately wants if there’s any chance he’ll be denied. Most especially when he views his desires as childish, or inappropriate. It’s much easier for him to ask a question that is designed to guide you to make an offer. … So, when he asked if you knew any lullabies …” I trailed off, hoping to let Bruce fill in the blanks.

He frowned deeply; “... he wanted me to offer to sing one?”

I nodded, smiling softly. “Exactly.”

“... He’s fourteen…”

“When he was a baby, his mother taught him to kill. She gave him no chance to be a child. Now, here, he is allowed to be whatever he wishes. It is perfectly rational, healthy even, for him to seek the childhood experiences he didn’t get at the traditional ages. And seeking them from you implies that he views you as a safe person to be vulnerable with.” His shoulders fell as he sighed. He looked so defeated. “… It’s not too late Bruce, why don’t you go prove him right?”

I smiled softly, looking up at him. He seemed so unsure of himself; like a new father worried about holding his baby wrong. “You’re welcome. … Go take care of your son.”

Bruce blinked a bit and nodded, rushing toward Damian's room. He stopped beside me to mutter; “... Thank you.”

He smiled a bit and went to knock gently on Damian’s door. I continued down the hall to Jason’s room, knocking before I slipped inside.

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Taglist (open):

@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men @cottage-worm @v1ckycheesue @roastyyytoastyyy @sarakmec @thestarcatcher7297 @stupidlyunhinged @mishkapi @mermaidgirl-11

[kkuzushi]

May I request a Popular kid Scaramouche x Nerd reader (basically a power bottom scaramouche)

Also can I be 🐀anon

“ 𝐀 𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞 ”

✦ characters: powerbottom!Scaramouche x amab!reader

✦ cw: no nut November, college setting, academic rivals (sort of), handjob (receiving & giving), slight praising but mostly humiliation, riding

✦ word count: 2.549k

✦ notes: I’m inexperienced with writing power bottoms so this took some time, I hope I did it right despite being more used to sub-bottom characters. Welcome to my blog as well, 🐀 anon! <3

You sat cross-legged on the couch, your laptop opened and displaying an earlier announcement. The debate competition you had joined was held today and your opponent? It was no other than the confident and quick-witted Scaramouche. However he was no match to you as always—when it comes to academics, you were simply 1% better, and that’s on being humble.

In your dorm, there was another competition being held. A staring contest between you and Scaramouche, both engulfed in silence. He glared at you, most likely sulking in his defeat.

“Fine.” Scaramouche sighed, putting his hands up in mock surrender, “You won, enjoy while it lasts.” His voice was laced with irritation and amusement. It’s not like he’ll deny that you did good but he won’t admit you were better.

You smirked, crossing your arms, “I plan to.” You looked away once the silent staring ended, taking your laptop and switching to your spreadsheet. There’s still a lot to do before the day ends and you intend to be productive.

You pushed up your glasses to the bridge of your nose, getting ready to continue on your day. Working’s about to be more fun, after all, it’s not everyday you crush someone who’s so sure they’re better than you.

Scaramouche rolled his eyes, seeing you ignore his presence easily in turn of concentrating to your works again. “We’re not done, you know,” He says, pushing himself off the wooden chair he was sitting on.

You glance at him, with a raised eyebrow you replied, “We are, unless you want the principal to reannounce the winner.” Scaramouche glared at your smug smile, he decides to push it aside, this is just one of your few wins over him, no big deal.

He walks closer to you, getting too close for comfort. “Don’t get too cocky now or you might lose this one.”

You blink, “Lose what?”

Scaramouche grinned and quickly plucks your glasses off your face. “Scara–” You warned, your arm extending to take it back from his grasp but he was quicker, keeping it out of your reach.

“Since you made me lose–”

“I didn’t make you lose,” you interrupted.

He rolled his eyes, “Okay, let me rephrase that.” Scaramouche cleared his throat, “Since you won the debate, it’s only fair I win something, right?” He grinned, the curve of his lips reminding you of a mischievous cat.

You raised your eyebrow, crossing your arms, “You’re not making sense.” Before you could even add more to your statement, Scaramouche walked closer and pressed a hand on the cushions behind you, trapping you on the couch.

“A fair trade,” He muttered, “You win the debate, I win this.” To emphasize his point, his free hand pushed your laptop to the side as he straddled your lap. Your legs uncrossed out of instinct despite being caught off guard by his actions.

You moved back against the cushion, feeling rather awkward with the sudden proximity. “A seat on my lap, really?” You joked, but the glint in his eyes tells you there’s more to this.

Scaramouche’s grin widens, his legs closing in on you to further trap your body in between them. “Don’t play dumb. I’ve heard of this little challenge you’re participating.. NNN, was it?” He drawls, his hands tracing your chest.

Is he kidding? There’s no way a childish challenge like that was enough for him to feel satisfied.. I mean, it’s not like you’re taking it seriously, right?

“You don’t dare–”

“Oh but I do.”

Scaramouche chuckles, his hips starting to grind against your crotch. His movements were slow but precise, intended to tease you to your limits.

Your hands gripped his waist, forcing him to pause for a moment. “Stop that.. I have better things to do right now,” You breathed out, a clear sign of warning in your eyes.

Scaramouche almost considered your words but he just smirked, carrying on with his movements. “You expect me to believe that?” His face leans in closer, “You’re getting hard awfully fast.” Without waiting for a reply, he closed the distance and captured your lips in a deep kiss.

He can feel your arousal building right beneath him with every roll of his hips, just the mere thought of turning you on was enough to turn him on. Amidst the kiss, Scaramouche was already thinking of ways he can easily make you lose this no nutting game, and he got just the right idea for it.

The both of you pulled away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your mouths. The atmosphere in the room isn’t helping you at all, but then again, making out with Scaramouche means you’re already fucked.

The indigo haired brat was quick to get into action, his movements sharp as if he was determined to either make you lose or get to the real thing. Or both. In a blink of an eye, your pants were pulled to the floor, and next would be your garment which he was already fumbling with.

You gripped his wrists firmly, attempting to push him away. “You can't actually be going through with this,” you protested, voice sharp with disbelief.

But Scaramouche only laughed, the sound low and smug, his mischievous eyes glinting with confidence. Before you could protest any further, he twisted his wrists around to escape your grip. The realization hits you too late—he was completely serious about this.

And just like that, the tables turned, leaving you bare and vulnerable beneath Scaramouche. Your cock stood rigid, thankfully not yet leaking precum—after all, that would be quite the embarrassing sight for you, wouldn’t it? But the man before you is nothing if not stubborn, and there’s no chance he plans on taking it easy.

Scaramouche slowly wraps a hand on the base, stroking you to full erection. You bit your bottom lip, suppressing the noise of arousal that’s threatening to escape. You can’t let him win right at the beginning, it’ll inflate his insufferable ego.

His violet eyes observed you intensely, as if daring you to slip up, while his movements grew more deliberate. The room felt warmer with every second, your self-control being pushed to its limits under his relentless teasing. You couldn’t give in, not now—not with that smug grin of his silently declaring his impending victory.

Concealing your noises wasn’t enough to hide the evidence of your arousal, though, as a slick warmth began to drip down to his fingers. The sensation only served to spur Scaramouche on, his movements becoming smoother, aided by the telltale fluid that betrayed your resistance.

“Well, would you look at that..” He murmured, leaning in until his breath ghosted against your ears. The obscene sounds filled the air, wet squelches echoing louder than your restrained breaths. “Seems like all that fight of yours is slipping away,” he taunted, his thumb brushing over the angry tip of your cock.

Scaramouche props himself, nimble fingers working to unfasten his pants. Even with that infuriating smirk plastered on his face, it was impossible to miss the way his breaths had grown shallow, his eyes tainted with want despite the composed facade he’s been putting up.

“I’m not the only one turned on, huh?” You muttered, a teasing edge to your voice as your eyes glanced up to his. His smirk faltered, eyebrows furrowing as he shoved his pants off.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I’m still in control here.” Scaramouche scoffed as he continued to strip himself. Finally, his own dick springs free from its confinements, hard and almost begging for attention. You stared for a while, temptation waring in your mind. Maybe you can turn the tables if you teased him enough.

As your gaze lingers on him, Scaramouche’s smirk deepens. The obvious look of hesitation and temptation in your eyes was another opportunity for him. “Careful, your stare might melt me,” he teased, his voice dripping with a playfulness.

He shifted, lowering his body to yours, the head of your cock resting in between his ass. “Touch it,” He grinned, grinding himself against your weeping dick. “You want to, don't you?” He adds, there was no mistaking that Scaramouche wasn’t exactly asking; he was commanding.

There goes your chance of regaining control. Your hand trembled slightly, the tension in the room thick as you fought the urge to give in. But Scaramouche wasn’t making it easy. His body was so close, his scent intoxicating, and the way he was looking at you made it hard to think straight.

Once your hand makes contact with his shaft, you feel the man twitch a little. With a quiet gulp, you start to stroke him like he did to you. He continues to grind himself against you, movement in sync with your palm.

Scaramouche’s grin widens as you obey his words, his breath becoming uneven with every passing second. His hands rested firmly on your shoulders, squeezing gently. “Just like that,” he praised, his voice breathless yet undeniably smug, as if he had you exactly where he wanted you.

Were you actually into this? The thought crossed your mind as Scaramouche’s commands and praises echoed in your ears. Pondering over it, the man above can feel your hand faltering, contemplation filling your face.

Scaramouche took the opportunity to lean in, his lips brushing softly against your ear. “Don’t stop now,” he whispered, his voice almost a challenge, one that made your pulse spike. “Unless you’re starting to want more?”

“I don’t–” He was quicker than your protest, a gasp leaving your lips as you feel something tight constrict your length. Scaramouche groaned as he lowered himself further on your cock, precum lubing his insides.

“Fuck– Scara, wait–”

“Gonna cum already?”

“No! That’s not–..”

It felt as though you could dissolve completely under the sheer heat of his inner walls, the tight warmth clinging to your cock already making you see stars. Despite teasing you, Scaramouche had his face buried in your neck and hands gripping your shoulders, hot breath hitting your skin as he adjusts to the intrusion inside him.

After a few moments of silence, Scaramouche began to move, riding you with slow precision. Wet, obscene sounds filling the room in an instant. Every glide of your cock inside him has you moaning, while he was watching you with a smirk.

The brat could see the subtle shifts in your expression—the way your body responded, betraying the calm front you forced to keep. He was in complete control of the situation now as he watched you squirm under his attention, every little shift sending a ripple of satisfaction through him.

“Don’t forget that NNN challenge of yours,” Scaramouche grinned above you. You almost forgot about that, the only thing you can focus on is his weight pressing down on you, tight entrance swallowing you whole.

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping lower, teasing you further, “Or perhaps you’re losing already?” He continued as your face flushed even deeper. “You’re halfway there, aren’t you?”

You looked him straight in the eye, lips barely moving as you gritted your teeth. “Fuck off,” You muttered, trying to sound nonchalant, though your voice betrayed the slight tremor of frustration. Your hips start to move with a mind of its own, shallowly thrusting up to Scaramouche, movements small yet evident to the man receiving it.

Scaramouche didn’t miss a thing, of course. Even the slightest twitch of your muscles told him everything he needed to know. You weren’t as composed as your earlier facade tried to show.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “How cute,” he purred. “You can’t stop moving. You’re just giving in without even realizing it, aren’t you?”

Every part of you screamed to resist, to regain some semblance of control, but Scaramouche’s inner walls clung to your shaft, forbidding you to pull away or stop the rise and fall of his hips.

The indigo haired brat’s hands tightened their grip on your shoulders, his smirk never faltering as he tilted his head down to meet your gaze. “Are you finally enjoying this?” He drawled, enjoying his control over you.

He leaned in, lips brushing close to your ear. “How humiliating for you,” he added, his breath warm against your skin. His tone was laced with mockery, but the way he moved left no doubt that he was just as lost in the moment as you were.

Your thrusts were just helping him get his impending victory, but you couldn’t help it any longer. He was clenching around your cock on purpose, making sure you were losing your control without any fight.

Your hands gripped his waist as soon as he picked up the pace, “You’re twitching already?” He teased, voice dripping with condescension. His breath ghosted over your cheek as he whispered, voice soft but full of mocking intent, “Can’t take it anymore, can you?”

Precum starts to dribble out of his hole, the evidence of your crumbling resolve bringing him satisfaction. “Poor thing,” He added, a chuckle slipping through his lips, “and here I thought you’d have more restraint.”

Scaramouche’s chuckles quickly change into breathy sounds of pleasure as your cock hits his prostate dead on. His fingers tightened on your shoulders, grounding himself from the unexpected pleasure.

“So desperate..mnhh♡–” He managed to murmur between breaths, though the quiver in his voice betrayed his earlier dominance, the sensation overwhelming him, leaving him as lost in the moment as you were.

His head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut as another gasp broke through his control. “You’rengh–still pathetic..” He whispered, though the shiver in his tone made it clear he was no better.

“Hmn–ironic.” He glared at you for that. Your patience was wearing thin, and despite everything, your body couldn't stop reacting, your movements becoming more desperate. Consequences be damned, you’re teetering over the edge already. November comes around every year anyway, but coming inside Scaramouche might just be a once in a lifetime activity.

You were already where he wanted you to be right from the start, and for the last time, he smirked before losing himself in the overwhelming pleasure. A knot draws up in your abdomen, your thrusts growing erratic as you chase your climax.

"Don’t stop..hAngh–♡" Scaramouche gasped, voice breaking as you pushed your body into his, meeting his every move with urgency. “F-Faster–go faster!” he stammered, but the need for more was clear in his frantic pace.

With one final thrust, you released yourself inside him, ropes of cum spurting out as he came on your stomach at the same time.

The two of you collapsed into each other’s arms, chests heaving as you tried to catch your breaths after everything that transpired.

As the haze of pleasure began to fade, reality sank in like a cruel reminder. Shame and irritation bubbled in your mind as the thought hit you—you really lost No Nut November because Scaramouche rode you.

“This was.. so lame.” You groaned, burying your face in his shoulder.

Scaramouche heard your muttered complaint loud and clear, a raspy chuckle escaping his lips as he tilted his head to look at you. “Seeing you lose made it worth it.” But amidst his relentless teasing, you can feel him grinding on your cock, pushing your cum deeper inside him.

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Giving Thanks

steddie, omegaverse, family dinner, treat for best behavior 😈, mdni 🔞

Eddie loves his boyfriend. He loves him. He loves Steve so much. But he has to keep reminding himself of that fact while he’s at the Harrington’s for Thanksgiving.

They’ve been dating since the fall of Steve’s junior year, and Eddie has met Steve’s mom a handful of times, she’s nice if a bit oblivious. But his dad has been out of town on business every time Eddie’s come over for dinner, so he’s successfully sweated through his first iron-gripped handshake from Richard Harrington today. Now he just needs to survive being in a room full of Reagan Republicans without jumping on a table and calling them fascists.

Steve can clearly see that Eddie is about to lose it as his Uncle Charles drones on about the stock market and returns on his investments at one end of the room, and his Aunt Maureen praises Nancy Reagan’s crusade against drugs and music with explicit lyrics at the other. He squeezes Eddie’s hand and whispers in his ear, “Babe, let’s go get some air,” before making their excuses to his Grandpa Otis and dragging Eddie to the ensuite for the first floor guest room, locking the door behind them.

“Thank you for telling your mom that Wayne picked up a shift today so he didn’t have to be here, too,” Eddie mumbles, hiding his face against Steve’s neck.

“You’re doing so fucking good, Eddie. I’m sorry they’re all like this.” Steve slides his fingers into Eddie’s hair and scratches at his scalp.

“Your grandpa’s pretty cool, kinda racist, but…”

“I know. But we just need to make it through another couple hours, and then you get to unwrap your present.” He guides Eddie’s lips to his, kissing him softly. “But I think you deserve a little peek now,” Steve adds with a wink as he lets go and steps back.

Reaching down, Steve grips the hem of his sweater and raises it to his collarbones, showing off the delicate bralette he put on that morning. His dusky nipples show through the lace, and Eddie stares. He’s seen Steve naked plenty, but this lingerie set is new to him, and the bralette frames his tits so well. “So beautiful, Baby,” Eddie murmurs, stepping in to grip Steve’s side, his thumbs rubbing over his nipples as he bends down to place a kiss in the shallow valley between Steve’s breasts.

Steve chuckles and pets Eddie’s hair. “Do you think that’s enough to get you through dinner?” he asks.

“No,” Eddie whines, pinching one of Steve’s nipples.

“Puppy…” Steve warns around a moan.

Eddie brings a hand down to hold Steve’s waist, grinding their hips together. “Want you, Stevie. Please,” he gasps against Steve’s ear.

“We cannot have sex in this bathroom, my mom would lose her shit.”

“I can’t believe she thinks we haven’t had sex yet.”

“That’s the only reason she’s let you into the house. My mom’s a big believer that omegas shouldn’t put out until they’ve got a rock on their finger.”

“Yet she pays for your birth control.”

“I’ve got an irregular cycle!” Steve hisses, swatting at Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie grins, hips moving as he whispers, “We both know that’s not true, Baby. You just like the feeling of me coming inside you.”

“Eddie…” Steve whines, forcing his sweater back down. “Just a couple more hours, and we get to go have pie with Wayne. Then you get to see my matching panties.”

That’s finally enough to get Eddie to agree to return to the gathering. He’s good for the rest of the afternoon, except for when Uncle Gene goes off on a rant about unions and Eddie practically shouts, “MY UNCLE IS A UNION STEWARD!” It honestly makes it easier for Steve to say they’ll take dessert to go.

Wayne has the game on when the boys arrive with an entire pecan pie. They all put up their feet as they eat massive pieces of pie and Steve and Wayne talk about football; Eddie’s focus is entirely on sneaking his hands under Steve’s sweater to toy with his bra strap.

Just as the news starts, Wayne slaps his knees and says, “Well-p, I’ve got a card game to get to, you boys don’t get up to too much trouble while I’m gone.”

Steve smiles and wishes Wayne good luck. Eddie hides his face in Steve’s hair and mumbles, “Bye, Wayne!” He drags Steve to his bedroom as soon as the door is closed behind his Uncle.

Quirking an eyebrow, Steve pulls his sweater up over his head, once again revealing white lace. He doesn’t have time to do anything else as Eddie practically tackles him and fits his mouth over Steve’s nipple, mouthing wetly through the fabric. “Oh, fuck,” Steve moans, fingers tangling in Eddie’s curls, holding him in place.

Eddie bites once, pleased to see how much darker that nipple is now than its twin, pulling back and reaching for Steve’s belt. He undoes Steve’s fly, pushing his dress slacks down to pool at his ankles, fingers catching on the open-lacing at the back of his panties. “Oh, Stevie,” Eddie purrs, “Give us a twirl.”

Steve grins, completely aware of how much this is effecting his alpha, and slowly turns to show off his underthings from every angle.

After, Eddie tears off his own sweater and dark jeans, and pounces, pinning Steve to his bed. “Fuck, Baby,” he breathes, “I ever tell you you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me?”

“Only every damn day,” Steve answers, pulling Eddie down for a kiss. Eddie’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him, too.

[waiting-for-motivation]

coffee and tattoos

summary: The road trip to the tattoo studio is filled with loud music and hearty laughter. Then, Daniel refreshens his colorful thigh tattoo, while his girlfriend gets a new one.

pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

warnings: fluff, one suggestive comment, mention of nipple piercings

words: 1331

a/n: because all of us are obsessed with his thigh tattoo <33

MASTERLIST REQUEST RULES

There are no worries clouding his mind, the loud music silencing even his deepest sorrows. The laughing coming from his girl encourages Daniel to sing along to the lyrics of his favorite song. His silly dance moves in the passenger seat, almost force (Y/n) to take her eyes off the road from time to time. Her smile is bright. She is more than happy to see her boyfriend this careless.

Eventually, Daniel takes one of her hands, trying to include her in his dancing. Her other hand tightens around the steering wheel, after all she is not the Formula One driver in this relationship. Despite her alerted mind, (Y/n) sings with her boyfriend, after all the street ahead is rather even.

Right before she has to reach for the gear shift, Daniel presses a sweet kiss to the back of her hand. He is indeed the best passenger princess, trusts his girl driving his expensive car, chooses the perfect music, and knows exactly how to entertain his driver.

“We should get some coffee and snacks“, Daniel suggests as they drive into town, already considering what the next hours at the tattoo studio could bring. He learned from past mistakes, recalling his first tattoo experience where he was so stressed he almost fainted. Although this is neither his nor his girls first tattoo, he feels concerned for (Y/n) more than anything. He took great care of her today, making sure she ate breakfast and drank enough water.

“Good idea“, (Y/n) says as she parks next to a smaller coffee shop. The music comes to a stop along with the engine. Daniel glances over his sunglasses, looking his girlfriend in the eyes and raises a finger. With an excited smile, Daniel leaves the car and opens the drivers door for (Y/n), pressing a kiss to her forehead the moment she stands before him.

They enter the coffee shop, holding hands and eyeing the sugary pastries. Both take their time in choosing what to drink and eat. Daniel pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and pays, giving the barista a generous tip.

As they wait for their order, (Y/n) takes a better look at her boyfriend, who is keeping an eye on the preparation of their drinks. Taking the sunglasses from his gorgeous nose is as simple as possible for (Y/n). Now she is the one who can eye him over the sunglasses, a habit he internalized a long time ago.

“You wear them much better than me“, Daniel comments with a flirty tone, holding their interwoven hands above his girlfriends head and therefore encouraging her to give him a twirl. No one can stop him from taking a picture from (Y/n) with much too big sunglasses almost slipping from her nose. He will keep this shot in his wallet for sure.

Finally, they get their drinks and pastries. Daniel made sure to also order a coffee for their tattoo artist, knowing her very well because she designed most of his tattoos. Getting back inside the car, they only have to drive for ten more minutes till they arrive at their destination. Once again, Daniel rushes out and opens the door for his girl like the gentleman he is.

Inside the tattoo studio, the artist greets them with welcoming hugs. She shows them her room and tells them she will be with them in a minute. Now, (Y/n) feels excited and nervous at the same time. Daniel notices his girls unsteady hands and immediately pulls her against his chest.

“Don‘t worry, darling, I will hold your hand the whole time“, Daniel comforts (Y/n), caressing her back with his soft hands. His lips wander from the top of her head to her nose and eventually to her lips, capturing them in a short yet sweet kiss.

“So lovebirds, who wants to start?“, the tattoo artist bursts into the room and forces Daniel and (Y/n) apart. Both blush, smiling innocently at the woman. Daniel decides to give her the coffee they got is apology and distraction enough.

“I would like to start“, (Y/n) says as she watches their artist sit down and spread out their finished tattoo templates on a side table. After a reassuring pat on the back from her boyfriend, (Y/n) joins the woman, discussing the perfect spot for her tattoo. They have to put the template on her left arm more than five times, which is actually not much according to the tattoo artist. To Daniel, it looks every time like the exact same spot, but he nods enthusiastically at the final placement.

“Don‘t forget to drink“, Daniel reminds his girls as she sits down, both watching the tattoo artist arrange the colors and needles she needs. (Y/n) takes a sip from her warm drink, causing the sunglasses she pushed onto her head to fall in her face. Laughing at the cute incident, Daniel takes his glasses back, followed by a very short kiss to her temple. Neither of them wants to fluster the tattoo artist any further.

Eventually, Daniel pulls a chair next to his girl while the artist starts the needle. A familiar humming fills the studio. The needle touches skin, and Daniel reaches for (Y/n)s free hand. To his surprise, she looks rather relaxed, no painful expression at all.

His mind is now at ease, so he can enjoy the croissant he chose. What Daniel does not notice is the powdered sugar on top of said croissant, which soon sticks to his moustache. Only his girlfriends giggles cause Daniel to stop mid-bite, his whole mouth covered in white sugar. His smile looks way funnier with all that sugar. After he finished his delicious croissant, (Y/n) helps him remove all the white powder from his beard.

“Why don’t you get a piercing today, Danny?“, (Y/n) asks after some time, eyeing his thigh tattoo, which will get some new color today. Although she loves so much about her boyfriend, this tattoo is her favorite part of him. It fits him perfectly and makes his muscular thighs look even better. Maybe the loss of color of said tattoo is part of her doing.

“No way, I‘m not as crazy as you“, Daniel whines, protectively crossing his arms before his chest. The tattoo artist can only shake her head, laughing, not actually getting what they are talking about.

“I thought you loved my piercings“, (Y/n) pouts, reaching for her bag full of cookies. With a mischievous grin, she watches her boyfriends eyes go wide in panic.

“I never said that! Please, never take them out“, Daniel begs, even placing various kisses on (Y/n)s hand. Shaking her head with a laugh, she assures him that she will keep her nipple piercings.

The bag of cookies is empty when her tattoo is finished. (Y/n) is excited to see the lovely art on her arm, having to hold herself back from touching the fine lines. Thanking the artist, she stands up to have a better look in the mirror. Daniel, ever the concerned boyfriend, wraps an arm around her waist and escorts her towards the mirror, complimenting her on the new tattoo.

Before it‘s Daniel‘s turn, the tattoo artist leaves the room for a smoke, telling him to get comfortable on the stretcher. Taking her by the word, Daniel grabs his girlfriend by the waist and sits her on one end of the stretcher. (Y/n) is rather confused till she watches Daniel lay down and rest his head on her thighs.

“That looks way too comfortable“, the tattoo artist laughs and stops in the door frame at the odd sight. (Y/n) smiles apologetically while Daniel ignores the comment and closes his eyes. Without even noticing the needle piercing the skin of his thigh, Daniel falls asleep rather quickly, the fingers placing with his curly hair lull him into a dreamworld.

“Sleep well, Danny.“

[blu3-ja3]

Chapter 2: We Let It Go

Chapter 1

The nightclub bouncer job is going well and the regulars have already given Simon a nickname that being Ghost. Because he's got very quiet footsteps for such a large man and he's constantly wearing black. If you aren't paying attention and just see Simon from the of your eye it's like seeing a ghost. He's learned Gary and Kyle's nicknames are Roach and Gaz. And no one questions Simon about his mask or the constant covering of his face. The only problem...

Simon Riley cannot handle his hot as sin roommate... At all. If he didn't know he was gay before John MacTavish would very quickly change that. Simon has been living with Johnny for 3 months, they've been a good three months.

But Johnny is one hell of a tease and Simon Riley is as dense as a brick when it comes to being flirted with. He's also not good with his own emotions so he's having one hell a time figuring out if he likes Johnny or if he just really wants to fuck him and be done. But Simon's starting to think it's more the former than the latter.

The first big tip to that thought is Johnny refusing to let anyone else call him Johnny. Simon has heard patrons trying to call MacTavish; Johnny, only for him to cut them off. At first Simon was worried that Johnny was going to tell him to stop but one night he heard MacTavish talking to Price about he nickname.

"Only Simon can pull it off, he's the only one I let call me Johnny..." Simon hearing those words from MacTavish made some deeply possessive, feral part of him purr with satisfaction. A small voice keeps telling him to make Johnny his, forever and always.

There's so much about John MacTavish that Simon finds irresistible, that makes his heart jump and his soul beg to make Johnny his.

MacTavish's eyes are the first one that comes to Simon's mind. The heat Simon feels every time Johnny stares at him makes his heart speed up. There's such a critical curiosity to them, like Simon holds the answers to every question MacTavish has. And when his dark brown eyes meet Johnny's endless blue eyes, Simon feels like he's been set adrift in the endless ocean.

Those eyes paired with Johnny's smile makes Simon's heart stop beating. It's like Simon is staring into the sun and he's all too happy to go blind if it means he can see Johnny smile just one more time. And when Simon gets that wolfish smile from Johnny it does something to Simon that makes him go mad with an ache that Simon has no idea is called lust. He's experienced wanting someone but this was a million wants wrapped together and set a flame.

Another part of Johnny that makes Simon ache like that is the man's voice. He's very talkative which Simon miraculously finds endearing, no what sets that ache aflame is when Johnny stretches out. When the man raises his arms above his and reaches up, the moans and groans that fall from Johnny's lips are heavenly. Then he does it in public around his friends and Kyle laughs at Simon, the shock that must have been visible in his eyes and on his brows. Only for Kyle to inform Simon that those are very common and normal noises for MacTavish. That small possessive voice in Simon's head isn't happy about that little fact.

But it's quieted by the fact that no one else comes home to Johnny after a long day. The satisfaction Simon feels knowing he's the only one who gets to see Johnny sprawled out over the couch is immense. Seeing him laid out, legs spread, one arm slung over the back of the couch and the other covering his eyes is like Simon staring at fine art. Simon is more than happy to give up the couch for a bit if it means seeing such fine artistry.

And Johnny truly is the perfect muse, Simon has seen the man shirtless a great many times due to Johnny working out shirtless in his room. The first time will forever be engraved into Simon's mind, he walks into the kitchen to do something he's immediately forgotten about as he watched Johnny's back as he does pull ups in the frame of his door. Watching the construction and release of MacTavish's muscle as he moves felt almost pornographic to Simon. It took everything he had not to do filthy things to Johnny against the door frame.

But the memory that still haunts Simon, the one that reappears into his mind at some of the worst possible times, is when Simon first touched himself to the thought of Johnny. It had been a very long day for both of them, Johnny and Gary had to work hard at the nightclub bar. There was a huge bachelorette party that took a particular liking towards Simon and Johnny that night and they milked that for all its worth. But that took a toll on them so they were exhausted.

Simon was sat on the couch watching something he doesn't remember when the bathroom door opened. Steam clouds billowed out and perfectly framed the sight before Simon.

Johnny, still toweling off his hair, almost completely naked aside from a small towel hugging his hips. Simon's eyes immediately catch on the two silver nipple piercings and matching belly button piercing. Simon figured Johnny had more piercings beyond his ears and nose but seeing them is very different than thinking about them.

And then Simon's eyes caught the single water droplet that started to slip down Johnny's body. It started at his collarbone going down his chest, down his stomach and hip only to slip into the V of the man's navel before disappearing into the towel. Simon slowly raked his vision back up towards Johnny's face only to see a deep shade of pink across his cheeks and ears. Simon met Johnny's eyes for the briefs of moments before they darted down to his lips.

"Sorry... I, uh, completely forgot you lived here too..."

"Bloody Hell" was the only thing Simon's brain supplied him before he got up and left for his room. He waited until he heard Johnny's door closed before slipping out and into the shower. He took longer than usual that night to shower.

It took a few days before Simon could look at Johnny in the face without his mind supplying him with images of Johnny in a towel.

But Simon Riley was never very good at listening to his emotions and he's even worse at picking up on hints and subtle flirting.

[riverstories7]

Can I rant for a minute? Authors, if one of your characters is an academic, do some basic research. Your adjunct professor will not suddenly get tenure if they publish their magnum opus. Your associate professor probably already has tenure and isn't at risk of being fired unless they commit misconduct—in which case their rank doesn't really matter. Job titles vary from country to country: professor means something very different in the US and the UK. I've been thrown WAY out of immersion in at least two books this year by stupid errors that might have been fixed if ANYONE involved in the writing or editing had done a Google search or talked to an academic.

[hecksupremechips]

Come back home when you have some sense

You can throw your life away just not at my expense

You’re not the son I raised

[coquelicoq]

raksura for the ask meme?

YAY

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most) moon was designed in a lab to appeal to me personally, so. it's about the trust issues!

scrunkly (my "baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped) the sky copper clutch!! traumatized children imprinting on a guy with baby fever is usually what i go to fanfic for so to have it right there in canon? incredible. i love all of frost's little tantrums and idk, just the way that she claims moon as her family in a way that has nothing to do with court politics? she's like, we're your clutch, obviously. and this is our court because it's your court, and all the other jabronis who live here are on thin ice. she's ready to throw down with moon's wife/the government at all hours of the day and she's like six years old. i love that moon has that energy in his life even though he personally is pretty confused and exhausted by it lol.

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave) it's hard out here for an ember stan because he is in so few scenes relative to the space he occupies in my psyche! i need 5000% more interactions between him and moon. him and stone. him and shade. him and river. him and the teachers. him and the clutches. him and jade and balm and chime. oh my god him and malachite? him and celadon? him and delin??

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week) niran. i'm always up for a "longsuffering ship captain resigns himself to another restless night of hearing gigantic shapeshifters with incredible stamina fuck nasty on the roof of his cabin" moment. technically i have never been in that exact situation, but i feel like i can relate.

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave) river who is CLASSIC poor little meow meow territory like yes his whole personality is being a grade A asshole and sure he tries to kill my blorbo a few times, but once you get to know him he's so sad and pathetic that i'm kind of like okay where can i sign up to defend him from the largely factual aspersions of his dozens of quite frankly justified haters? he'd hate that. the good shit 👌

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason) stone. every time he crankily says "why did i ever reproduce" upon finding himself entangled in yet another ridiculous clusterfuck thanks to one of his hundreds of idiot great-great-great-great-great grandchildren, an angel gets its wings. he's depressed and antisocial but he can't totally check out because he has to mediate relationship issues between his dumbass relatives. love that for him.

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell) malachite but specifically because malachite would not be scared of superhell. she'd skulk around being invisible, maybe fuck some shit up if she felt like it, and leave when she got bored. she probably makes it like. opal night's sister city or something. and nobody in the court is at all phased. yeah that's our reigning queen who recently got back from vacation in superhell. she does that. she says it's relaxing.

[deus-and-the-machina]

ffxiv garlemald discourse is so funny because people will go "ugh people just cant stand it when things aren't black and white" and then you look at how the empire are portrayed in stormblood and shadowbringers and its like hm. that seems like a pretty intense and accurate display of violent imperialism to me! Wow I wonder why people in this day and age may find it hard to feel sympathy for them or even hate them on principal. god its such a mystery.

the games like 50/50 to me on how it tackles these themes because I actually like the garlemald arc in EW, I think it has a lot of horrific and powerful scenes depicting how self destructive fascist propaganda and beliefs are, but I also think it doesn't go far enough on some fronts. the garleans' xenophobia is most notably and obstacle to getting them to accept the contingent's help, which is what they're there to do,

but there's never an admission of harm from any garleans on the uuuuuuuuh massive amount of war crimes the nations around them are still suffering from they're just kind of like "we misjudged you...but you actually wanted to help us all along" like yeah thats great now can we get you all some deprogramming because you keep talking about returning to your prime and glory days and I think we need to unpack some stuff you really SHOULDNT return to. im not even really talking about EW proper but the patches where things are a bit more chilled out and people are recovering.

It feels like they wanted to have their critique of imperialism and also have things end with the beauty of human connection and reaching out and these things just don't mesh well because hey a lot of your modern day audience is not gonna like having to treat people yelling xenophobic things at the cast and your character with kid gloves after you showed them hours and hours of the awful things these people's beliefs have done. especially in the present day hoo boy.

[arminsumi]

... hubby!Gojo with a huge breeding kink who just obsesses over you when you're ovulating and can't think about anything else but fucking a baby into your hips.

+ warnings; mdni, breeding kink, some dumbification

+ an; I literally had this idea in my drafts for a year... 😳

Maybe he's got a freaky sixth sense, maybe it's just because he's got heightened senses, or maybe there's some scientific studies to back it up; but Gojo can smell when you're ovulating. And it turns him on — of course it does. He has a bigger breeding kink than you do.

"Oh, you're ovulating." he notes after sniffing your skin... and you do a double take like he's insane. Because he is insane — you married a madman.

He pays closer attention to your cycle than you do, reminding you to mark down when you get your period, and coddling you in the days leading up to ovulation.

"Satoru, it's just an estimation." you tell him, but he's got a glow in his eyes when he sees your period tracker app telling him that today's your most fertile day — if he cums in you today, it's basically guaranteed.

He researches positions that help conception, bends and pushes you into them, and fucks you deep with his thick cock, going harder on your poor hole than he normally does — grunting more than he normally does, throbbing more than he normally does... like it just awakens something primal in him, and now he's obsessively fucking you like he has no other purpose but to breed his sweet little wife.

"Nn! Satoruuu!" you whine and paw at his torso, your walls overwhelmed by the pressure of his cock splitting you open.

"Yes babyyy?" he coos, giving you a crooked, blissed-out smile as he tilts his head.

There's sweat dripping off his abs, his pink nipples are hard, his biceps are twitching, and he's running one hand through his dampened white hair as he stills inside you for a moment.

"'s too deep! T-too big!" you moan lewdly, a bit of drool escaping the corner of your mouth.

"...aw, I know I'm just too big for ya, huh?" he coos cockily; hearing you tell him that he's 'too big' never gets old.

He's so determined to give you his baby that he tries everything to increase the chances; staying inside you for 5 minutes after shooting his load in, having you rest with a pillow under your back so your hips are raised — "Gotta help my lil' guys swim." he acts like an idiot about it, but sweetly so. Nothing excites him more than the idea of being a dad, except the idea of fathering your children.

After sex, when the two of you are cleaning up, Satoru feels over and massages your tummy with a small smile on his face. He's lost in thought, hair all messy and face tired like he's run a marathon, hopeful that this time he got you pregnant.

He'll pamper you like his queen, humming and going to the ends of the earth to get you anything you ask for. He really fawns over you when you're ovulating, and lays on the compliments thick while snuggling your neck and creeping his fingers up your thighs — pretty soon he'll sink them inside and stretch you out on them, preparing you for what he cutely calls "baby making" but is actually sweaty, nasty, kinky sex — there's a definite difference in the cute, snuggly sex and the literal breeding sessions no matter how much he plays it off.

"Satoru... my legs are still weak after this morning, give me a break, will you?"

"Aw come on, this is an innocent request... and if babymaking happens, it happens..." he mutters the last part under his breath.

"You're crazy."

But you know you're gonna fall for it after you take one look at his rock-hard, juicy pink, dummy big cock and those breeder balls.

He just beams victoriously when you hop over to him like a little bunny.

Satoru's pushes into you as deep as your pussy allows him, and then some more just to pressure your deepest spot, pinning your wrists down and whispering sultrily into your ear about how well you take him, how beautiful you look, how good it feels to fuck your fertile pussy knowing that he'll most definitely get you pregnant because his cum is perfect; thick and sticky and gooey and pungent, perfect just like he is — the cocky bastard.

When his creampies makes you cum, A-spot pressured with his pulsing tip, he grins so wide that you scold him about it.

"Stop grinning like a psychopath." you pant.

He just looks up at you, face hardly an inch away, and asks a dumb, smiley "D'you feel pregnant?" ... as if it happens so fast.

"Gee, I don't know, we should go again just to make sure — that was a joke, that was a joke! Nn! Satoru!" too late, he's flipping you over and slowly filling you up again.

And oh god Satoru loves sliding back in for round twos. The smell of sex and cum wafting up and hitting his nose just makes him plunge back into your cum-filled little hole with only one thing in mind and that is breeding you 'till you're stuffed to the max.

"Come on, y' gonna be a good wifey for me and get knocked up?" he rasps against your ear, thrusting his cock up into your sensitive spots until his creampies turn into whipped cream, frothed up and milky-white and smeared on your pussy lips.

Like the nasty boy he is (and always has been, even before marriage), Satoru forces your head down and makes you watch him fuck his dummy big cock into you.

"Yeah, watch that cock fill you up... look at all my cum leaking out..." he tuts, "... don't be so wasteful, baby... oh well, 'm gonna fuck it back into you anyways. Come on, let me in deeper — aw, what's wrong?" he coos when you claw at his meaty bicep.

"'toruuu, so deep! Y-you're so fucking deep, I can't think..."

His heart pangs when he hears you complain about being too stuffed, "Oh baby you don't need to think, just lay there and let me put a baby in your sweet pussy — gonna fuck you so dumb, the only name you'll remember is mine."

Of course, he has to get a creampie in every day. Sometimes even a few times a day. Sometimes even at 4 AM, and you swat him for being a horny idiot — but it takes five minutes to give in because you can hear the need in his voice when he whines "Please?" and starts humping against you, "I've got so much cum for you." he tells you and though it sounds so sweet in his soft, bedroom voice it's hard to take him as an innocent man, because his thick boner is grinding hard and hot between your plush lips.

You can bet you'll probably only get to sleep when the birds are chirping, 'cause your hubby's balls are too heavy and full of cum and he needs to drain himself inside you — oh, and you can also bet that afterwards he will be sleeping like a princess, clinging to you with his face snuggled into your tummy.

[fingertipsmp3]

Today has been a productive day :)

[inkskinned]

i love finding out how big this world is. my girlfriend has only visited boston a handful of times, but i grew up here. i told her we'd be going to do the tourist traps in salem, and she said - which salem?

to be fair to her, there are a lot of other states that have a town named "salem." and i think there's some evidence that the witch trials actually happened in what is now called Danvers. but the thing is - she thought "salem" was like, a made-up thing. there wasn't actually a salem, massachusetts - like there isn't a gotham city.

they don't talk about it that much where she grew up, is the thing! and this made me laugh. a week ago she was talking about her hometown and said something akin to "well the museum's kinda like the one in richmond," and i had to explain i still had no frame of reference for what the hell this museum was like.

i love finding out what knowledge i take for granted. i used to live with 5 other women. 3 of them were from south korea. they had to take, like, a solid fifteen minutes to explain their birthday system to my gay math-blind ass, laughing as they did.

that same month, our roommate from denmark taught me the danish word for wreath by accident - she'd been talking about decorations, used krans, and i'd been able to figure it out through context. i just picked it up and kept talking. our entire house used krans as the word. she came home and slammed the door one evening, mock-angry, shouting: you motherfuckers! it's a - a wreath!

and how often do you use certain words, anyway! i am cuban, so i was raised with certain spanish words sort of sprinkled in there; but never how you'd think. in middle school i asked someone to pass me the recogedor - in a completely american accent, like i was speaking english. i hadn't registered it as a spanish word. i mean, how often in school do you actually use the word "dustpan" - i'd only ever heard it in the context of cleaning my house.

there are places that you grew up that you, just, like, know. that you assume everyone knows. there are things and people and "common knowledge" that you have that, just, like. doesn't exist for me. i don't know what you call your public transportation system, but in boston we call it "the T". our train cards are called charlie cards because of a song where a father accidentally abandons his family, which was written because our system of transportation. in boston, most people would snort and say everyone knows that, kid.

i think you and i should go on a long walk - it's getting dark early these days and we need any sun we can manage. tell me about the first time you saw snow. tell me about the stuff everyone knows about your home. tell me about the cities "everyone's been to," about the food "everyone's already tried." who knows. maybe it will feel nice to you - watching someone learn about it for the very first time.