#check out the chick charm

[montereybayaquarium]

Time to catch up with our puffin chicks!

🐣 Spud 🥔 and Yuzu 🍋, are growing unbeaklievably fast! Spud’s already showing off some serious feather fashion, and Yuzu is waddling into their best life.

Drop some love for these pufftastic pals as they keep soar into their next chapter! 💛

[writersdrug]

waitress reader’s reaction to bartender Ghost getting hit on by someone they think is more attractive?

Oh, she would be so so jealous.

You're wiping down your table, standing on your tippy-toes to reach the middle of the high-top, when you spot the receipt tucked in between the sugars and the pepper. Another successful, big tip, and you're tucking your rag into your server apron and jogging across the floor to share your victory with Simon - when you spot her.

She's sitting at the bar; perfect, blonde waves of her hair cascading down her upper back. She's stylish, wearing a green, corduroy jacket and skinny jeans, wedges on her perfectly manicured feet. Her ankles are crossed politely on the edge of the barstool, her back is arched with perfect posture, and you just know her boobs are a ten out of ten, even though you're facing her back. She's definetly taller than you, you can see that while she's sitting down.

You're so jealous you're probably steaming - and the worst part about it is Ghost. He's not giving her the gruff, unbothered attitude he usually gives everyone at the bar - far from it. He's leaning back against the liquor shelf, eyes crinkled in what you can only assume is a flirtatious smile, hands gripping the counter to flex those goddam Greek-god muscles. He listens to her as she prattles on, laughing at everything and anything he has to say (he just asked if she needed more napkins. Why the fuck is that so funny?!)

Truthfully, he's over this chick. He's the same as you, playing up his charm to keep those tips rolling in - but this girl is exhausting. Always laughing, kinda daft, talks like she's the only woman on the planet... his muscles are tense as he fights the urge to throw his rag at her, he's grimacing behind his mask, teeth clenching to hold back an annoyed groan and god does she ever shut the fuck up-

He notices you, standing in the middle of the restaurant floor, pen tucked into your hair, with flyaways sprouting from your scalp like fireworks, chin slightly jutted out in a pout. Your hands are balled into fists at your sides - you're choking your notepad to death, and you have the nastiest, most adorable look on your face that Simon's ever had the pleasure of seeing.

He scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. "Doin' alright, luv?"

You blink at him, and he has to hold back a snort. The girl turns around to you - great. She's hot, too.

"Oh- hey..." she grabs her ramekin from her dish and holds it out to you. "Is there more ketchup?"

You glare at her for a few moments, not bothering to hide your distaste for her. Simon's about to get it himself, but you snatch the ramekin from her and storm past the kitchen door with a "lemme see."

Ghost furrows his brow at your irate behavior. He wonders if one of the customers gave you a hard time; he politely excuses himself from the woman (thank fuck, she's getting exhausting) and goes to check on you in the kitchen.

"-ye need a feckin' wot now?!"

"I need you to fill a ramekin with half ketchup and half tobasco!"

"Ye got hot sauce oan all th' bloody tables!"

"I need you to do it!"

Ghost chuckles to himself, putting the pieces together. He isn't blind - he recognizes that green-eyed monster anywhere, lord knows he's felt it too. Makes his chest ouff up a bit, seeing you get all ruffled and grumpy over him. It also makes him feel a bit better about fussing over you, when his patrons try to win you over. Guess we both have double standards.

You walk back out, smiling at the woman and handing her the ramekin back. "You got the last of the ketchup! Enjoy!" And, with a cheeky grin, you walk back off to tend to your tables.

She looks at Simon and he shrugs. "Looks like ya got lucky."

[princessbrunette]

mascot!jj had charmed you.

he had handed you the party invite whilst wearing the full mascot get up, sweaty hair stuck to his head, cheeks flushed post game, tongue wetting his lips. jj was an odd one, the rules were different at college. you can be a dork, a mascot for the sports team — but if you were likeable, charming, and cute — you’d still get invited places.

“better see you there, i’m like, so serious.” he’d grinned when he placed the flier in your hand, eyes lingering before he runs off to hand out more.

now there you were, watching him be a social butterfly — shyly stood at his side with a tight dress on. it was nice to see him without the big mascot costume, now stood there — looking alot less sweaty, the college sweatshirt on, a cap sat snugly backwards on his head. you already knew he was cute and charming, but tonight you were seeing him in a different light. the type that made you down your drink a lot quicker, needing that buzz of confidence.

you were aware of rafe’s presence at this party, and that he wanted you — so naturally he wasn’t very happy about seeing you lingering around jj the whole night. the cameron boy was already pretty gone by the time you’d turned up, so it was hard to keep his attention for too long anyway — rafe getting sucked into beer pong with the boys or worse, disappearing to the bathroom and reappearing fifteen minutes later sniffing and playing with his nose. he’d give you a sweaty five minutes, grinding up behind you on the dance floor before running off to force his friends to ‘chug.’

but you had jj’s attention. he didn’t miss a beat.

when it came to passing around a joint, he practically smacked it out of his friends hand to grab at it.

“dude, seriously — y’gotta offer it to the lady first. where are your manners? like…” he scolds, shaking his head before holding it up with raised brows. “care for some greens m’lady?” he presents, making you giggle. you lower your voice, a little embarrassed.

“i’ve never done that before.”

he’s quick, eyes widening and jerking his hand away. “oh— forget it then. it’s gone. s’totally cool we don’t gotta—”

“wait— no i… i wanna try… with you.” you bring your hands to a clasp on your lap, lifting your shoulders shyly as if to bat away the eyes on your interaction, and you physically watch him melt. not only in relief, but in adoration.

“wh— really? don’t feel like you have to. i’m cool either way.”

you take two tokes and you’re done, and jj is indeed cool with it. chuckling as he takes it away from you, he brings it to his own mouth, inhaling before blowing away from you and standing up. “y’know what? sometimes two is like, more than enough. gettin’ you some water ‘kay, two secs.”

you’re all warm and hazy as you watch him walk away, grinning ear to ear as you don’t even acknowledge rafe shoulder checking him as they pass eachother, saying something you don’t hear. jj flips him off as he walks on, and that’s that. you’ve never had two guys fight over you before, and though usually you hate the attention being on you, even when you’re up dancing on that field— you couldn’t help but feel some arousal stirring inside you. it was nice to feel wanted.

maybe that’s why you downed your drink, why that shyness started to drain your body, why you ended up in some sorority chicks walk in closet, practically climbing jj maybank as you frantically overlap tongues.

you can’t believe the words flying from your mouth as you pant wetly in his ear, so beside yourself you couldn’t believe it. his hand is stuffed down your panties, jaw dropping when he really acknowledges how soaked you are. “wanna— wanna suck you off, jayj.” you moan, and even in the moment you know you sound like a desperate pornstar. jj physically shudders, eyes screwing shut like he could cum right there.

“you— okay— i mean there’s no way like you’re impossibly hot and should be seriously like… not interested in me dude — sorry not dude, you’re not a— whatever, lemme make you cum— see how ya feel after.”

he shakes his head at his own rambling, dropping a quick kiss to your cheek when you freeze to listen to him with wide glossy eyes, biting his lip and scrunching his nose in concentration as he extends his arm a little more, trying to find that spot. surprisingly, it seemed like he’d done this quite a few times before. if you weren’t so aroused, your stomach might’ve twisted in jealousy.

he sinks his middle finger inside you, and extends his thumb to dust little circles over your clit and your knees buckle, jaw dropping. he supports more of your weight, nodding knowingly. “yup. theeere it is. alright, lemme get you right mama.”

and that he did.

[dazzlerwriting]

cowboy take me away

j.seresin x reader

pictures not mine, credits to pinterest

1k words

summary: sort of inspired by “Cowboy Take Me Away” by The Chicks. (great song you should check it out!) what was supposed to be a celebratory night, turns into reader sitting alone at a bar in texas. that is until a blonde aviator, visiting home, notices her.

Warnings: fluff! reader has not great friends. talks about an ex boyfriend. Alcohol consumption. Jake Seresin being a charming man? She/her pronouns are used and reader is said to be shorter than jake! no use of y/n!

authors note: first fic!! lmk what you think!

Sitting alone in a bar in the middle of Austin, Texas was not how you thought your Saturday was going to go. You had recently graduated from University of Texas in Austin so you thought you would be out with your boyfriend and friends, celebrating the fact that you were finally going to go to the University of California San Diego to get your masters in Educational Studies. But you just broke up with your boyfriend due to his extreme lack of interest in your relationship. He literally shrugged when you told him it was over. On top of that your friends seemingly forgot that you had plans, go figure.

So now you were sitting in some bar, under the soft disco lighting, with cowboy hats everywhere, fiddling with the straw in your drink, wondering how it could all go sour so fast.

“Is this seat taken?” a strong voice with a southern drawl asked. You whipped your head so fast you thought you could see the looney tunes birds flying, but no, what you saw was a man with sandy blonde hair and eyes that could rival the trees in the Ozarks. “Oh! Um N-no. No, it’s not.” He took his seat with a devilish smirk and waved down the bartender to order another drink for himself. While doing so you missed the part where he ordered you another drink. You were too busy roaming your eyes from the black Stetson that sat on top of his head, to the shirt that said “US Navy” & “H_ngm_n” on the pocket, and finally to the steel-toed cowboy boots that sat on his feet.

You heard a cough, and that’s when you realized he had been talking to you and was a bit closer now. Get it together he just asked a simple question and you just got out of a relationship, you scolded yourself. “Sorry, sorry what did you say?”

The smirk on his face just grows a bit bigger while replying, “I was just asking why a pretty girl like you looks so defeated in the most lively bar in all of Austin?”

Great. He’s charming and astute apparently. Now you can either lie to this very handsome man, or you can become the stereotypical person who dumps everything at the bar. Saved by the bell, or bartender in this case, because he delivers the drinks to you both, making the smirk on this man’s face slide to a polite smile, and also giving you a sense of reprieve at this moment.

“I’m Jake by the way, sorry if the question was too intense for an introduction. Can’t help but be curious.” You give him your name and the smirk is back way too quickly. “Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he replied, his smirk turning to a kind smile. “Does that work on all of the girls?” you snap back quickly. He looks a bit taken aback by the question, but that doesn’t deter him one bit, “Wouldn’t know, did it work on you?”

Sighing you finally turn to face him fully, taking in his form once again. After the day you’ve had, you decide you’ll entertain him for a bit, “Ya know what cowboy, it might’ve but don’t let that get to your head. We don’t need that cowboy hat to fall off.” Jake takes you in for a minute and gives you a smile that might be the sweetest thing you’ve seen in a bit. “So you gonna tell me why you’re lookin’ all sad in the middle of this bar?” he asks you once again, and you finally decide you need to at least tell someone or you might cry. So with your head down and while fidgeting with your hands, you tell him, “I just got accepted into the master’s program I applied for and to celebrate I was gonna meet my boyfriend and friends here. As you can see neither are here. I broke up with him and my friends all forgot or something, who knows.” You finally take a breath and look back up to see him looking at you with the slightest hint of concern.

He shakes his head and laughs gently. “Well, I guess congratulations are in order for the graduate, and for getting rid of the boyfriend who didn’t appreciate the beauty in his life.” With a soft smile, he tips his beer towards you and you do the same.

He abruptly stands up and holds out his hand, a silent question for a dance. You take it with a quizzical look on your face, and he drags you to the middle of the dance floor; now that you’re there, you look around and see that this place has cleared out a bit since you first got here. He looks down at you with a bit of adoration and says “A congratulatory dance is a necessity.”

He grabs your hips, while you wrap your arms around his neck, and it’s at this moment you realize that you would much rather be here, wrapped in this stranger’s arms, dancing to “Cowboy Take Me Away” than in the silence that your ex would’ve given. Looking at Jake with a smirk on your face, “The song is real fitting if you ask me, cowboy.” Your fingers are playing with the soft hair at the bottom of his head, and for a second it’s like a cat reacting to someone scratching their head. You’d be shocked if he didn’t start purring.

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed,” he replies with a soft chuckle. Looking into each other’s eyes, you stand on your toes, and you both lean in… but of course, nothing would go as planned. His cowboy hat hits you right in the forehead.

You pull back from each other and both break out into a fit of giggles. Jake looks at you with a soft smile, tips his cowboy hat back, and leans in again. This time your lips meet in a delicate kiss, his lips are soft and you can smell a hint of cologne on him. Warmth fills your cheeks, the kiss lasting only a matter of seconds, but it's just enough time for everything around you to disappear. When the kiss is over, your foreheads meet and you both continue swaying under the reflected disco lighting. Maybe tonight is way better than you originally planned.

[johnbrand]

A Legend

Tracy could feel himself getting jittery, his nerves building up while he waited for his first customer.  He had never worked for a rideshare company before, but he was desperate for money. A guy could only go off of plasma donations for so long after college graduation, and without job offers piling up, Tracy deemed a temporary solution necessary. But now Tracy felt like everything was constricting; the small space inside his Prius, the oversized sweater he was wearing, his favorite pop divas singing from the stereo. He prayed that he would not have to talk much, wishing to be silent like those taxi drivers in every other movie set in New York. 

Taking a deep breath, Tracy heard the back door swing open and shut. Questions immediately flooded his head. Did he miss any hairs when he shaved this morning? Did he remove that pesky pimple patch? Ignoring the battering thoughts and turning around, Tracy found a muscular jock spread across the entire back seating area. 

“Are you Tracy?” the attractive customer asked, a bit confused. Despite being a couple of years younger than Tracy, the jock held a certain level of arrogance. This display of superiority intimidated Tracy and embarrassingly, turned him on a bit.

“I’m going to assume yes.” The jock asserted after waiting a moment longer. He then stuck out his hand with a smile. “Michael, in case it wasn’t obvious.”

Tracy’s eyes dashed between his phone and the handsome young man before him. “Oh uh…yeah,” the words spilled out clumsily as he took his hand.

“You’re new to this, aren’t you?” Michael questioned.

Tracy took a moment to respond, “Sorry, um I kinda am.” 

“No worries, man,” Tracy caught Michael’s smirk in the rearview mirror. “But with a name like ‘Tracy,’ I was expecting a chick or something.” 

Tracy blushed. “It was my grandfather’s name…” Trying his best to recover, he opted for a joke. “At least I didn’t get stuck with something worse, right?” Although his voice had come out a little tight, the attempt made the cut, as confirmed by Michael’s light chuckle.

“I guess,” Michael agreed. “But that’s why you go by Trace, right? Funny how that simple letter change can make you a whole lot manlier.”

“Hmm?” Having turned on the ignition and left the parking lot, Tracy was now juggling both driving and providing conversation. It was not a difficult task, but he found himself adjusting the stereo to better concentrate on the two tasks at hand.

“I mean you’ve been going by Trace since what, middle school?” Michael attempted to confirm.

Trace found himself a bit lost. “Why…how did you know that?”

Michael’s face broke out into a charming grin. “Stop being so timid, man. You’re a legend at the university! Even if you graduated a few years ago, your fame is still alive and well.”

Trace found himself a bit stunned. “Thanks…?”

“Don’t be so humble, bro” Michael frowned. “Everyone knows you were the star of the football team back in the day. The boys won’t shut up about you.”

“‘The boys’?” Trace asked curiously. 

“Yeah! ‘Trace was always committed to the team.’ ‘Trace was the epitome of masculinity.’ ‘Trace was…’, well, you get the idea.” Michael scratched idly at his pec before continuing. Tracy absentmindedly did the same to his own bulky counterparts. “Those guys look up to you! And by the looks of it, you hold up to your own legend.”

“I try to,” Trace smiled back, confidence creeping into his voice. Taking a wide turn, Trace could feel his thick forearm flexing while rotating the wheel, his bicep testing the limits of the tight athletic shirt’s fabric. Trace took a moment to examine himself in the rearview mirror. His stubble was on point, accenting his lantern-like jaw appropriately. His whole face in fact was quite macho.

“Checking yourself out, big man?” Michael caught Trace red-handed. The remark made Trace’s legs bloat a bit larger, forcing them further apart. “I’m surprised a guy with your height can even fit in this rust-bucket.” 

“You could argue the Fusion was meant for a 6’3 man,” Trace chuckled, his vocal chords a bit deeper. “But yeah once I get enough money, I’m getting a real, All-American truck.”

“Ah, so that’s what this side gig is for,” Michael nodded. “I was guessing it was a side hustle for the ladies.”

“What do you mean?” Trace turned the volume up slightly, the country music twanging a smidge heavier throughout the car.

“Isn't this just a stint to pick women up, double entendre intended? It's the other thing the guys are always talking about,” Michael commented. “‘Trace was always a lady killer.’ ‘Trace never pulled out.’ ‘Trace’s hit list was longer than anyone else’s.’”

Trace sat silent, turning into the destination’s parking lot.  “Is that part of the legend no longer true?” Michael pushed.

Once Trace found an open spot to station his car, he responded. “Oh it’s true,” he confirmed proudly. “In fact, you can tell the boys the number has doubled since graduation.”

Michael’s face copied Trace’s own cocky smirk. “I'll be happy to report that back. I’ll see you around then, man!”

Trace watched through the rearview mirror as Michael hopped out of the car. He then scanned his phone to find his next customer. Trace’s thick fingers automatically drifted to the “Female, 18-25” range, searching for someone to give a ride too, double entendre intended.

[featherandferns]

day 2/24 - obx christmas countdown

‘I just want you for my own; more than you could ever know’ - Mariah Carey, All I Want for Christmas is You | fluff

The twinkling lights and perky music and the rather rude demanding pillow on the sofa that says “JOY” do little to raise your spirits. You’re aware how much of a grump you must seem, slumped in the corner of the pull-out, staring longingly into your glass of mulled wine, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. 

“Hey, grinch.” A Santa hat smacks you in the face. You glare at Kiara. 

“Cheer up. It’s girls’ night,” she tells you. 

“What’s got you so down-in-the-dumps, eh?” Cleo asks. 

“She’s pining,” Sarah says knowingly, grinning slyly at you. 

“I do not pine,” you reply firmly. Then, taking a pause for thought, you tag on, “very often.”

“This about that Maybank boy, huh?” Cleo checks. 

Sighing, you rock your head back and pinch the bridge of your nose. “Does everybody know?”

“Yep,” Sarah brightly replies. “Probably including JJ.”

“No way,” Kiara argues. She’s lounging in the armchair, a Santa hat sat wonky on her head. “That boy is blind as a bat. Lucky for you.”

At your quirked eyebrow in question, Kie puts on quite the show of a puppy-dog, yearning, lovesick idiot. You suppose that’s meant to be you. Charming. You toss the Santa hat back at her and she catches it effortlessly. 

“Kie has a point though. Why don’t you just tell him? He’s definitely whipped for you, too,” Sarah says. 

“Yeah right,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. 

“Girl, you don’t see the way he looks at you.”

“Mhm - because there isn’t a way he looks at me,” you deflect. You stare into your glass of mulled wine, transfixed by the swirling maroon and purple of the liquid; the herbal and fruity tones tangy as they hit your nose and linger on your tongue. 

You’d known JJ since the two of you were in diapers. Growing up, side by side, you felt as though you knew enough about him to know he didn’t love you as anything more than a friend. Seen him chase after enough girls and woo enough chicks at Keggars to believe that if something was meant to happen between the two of you, it would have by now. That didn’t stop your feelings from spiralling and, at a certain point, at a certain age, he suddenly seemed different to you. The treasure hunting only solidified this more, like sealing your feelings in ice. Seeing someone almost die more times than you can count has a magical way of bringing every emotion you have about them to the surface. In fact, you remember the night that you realised that the only thing you’ll ever need in life is JJ. But if that meant as a friend, then that was how it would be. After all, you couldn’t risk losing him. 

Sighing, you come back to the room and find your smile. “It’s not fair to feed my delusions,” you tell your friends, hoping to lighten the mood. 

“Well, y’know what’s a good remedy for boy problems?” Sarah wonders. She gets to her feet, dressed in reindeer pyjamas which match yours, Kie’s and Cleo’s. 

“What?”

“Mulled wine and spiked eggnog,” she grins, grabbing the bottle of plum-purple liquor. Of course. Laughing, shaking your head, you hold out your glass for a top-up. 

“Tis the season.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

JJ came home late. He’d been out on the boat with John B fishing, and the two of them got to sharing a joint and talking, and lost track of time. What were they talking about? Oh, nothing important. Apart from how JJ needed to maybe get a grip sometime soon (John B’s words) and suck it up (also John B’s words) and just tell you how he felt about you already because it’s starting to get pathetic (you guessed it - John B). After JJ threatened to throw him overboard, the matter was dropped rather promptly. That isn’t to say JJ didn’t contemplate it the entire boat ride home. 

He knew it was a risky play. You were the most important thing in his life. You were more valuable than all the gold in the world and more perfect than all the jewels. He wasn’t sure when he started falling for you; all he knew was that the ground was getting nearer. He couldn’t hold it in anymore. Drinking was like rolling the dice. JJ worried that if he had one too many shots, he might sound a bit too genuine when telling you how much he loved you. 

“There’ll still awake?” John B thinks aloud as the two guys walk back towards the house. The boat was now docked and the catch stored in the fridge at the Tackle and Bait shop. The house is illuminated through the windows with Christmas lights of red and gold. A garland hangs around the frame and on the door is a homemade wreath, complete with seashells. 

“Guess so.”

As John B pushes open the door, they’re met with the deafeningly loud Christmas music and a chorus of giggles. Drunk giggles. The two boys share a look, amused, mildly concerned, before venturing into the living room. Cleo and Kie are sitting on the sofa, wine glasses in hand, watching you and Sarah dance in front of the tree. You look adorable in your pyjamas, matching the other three girls like a collectors doll. Your skin sparkles under the twinkling tree lights; hair swaying as you swing and swoop with Sarah. JJ’s heart does that annoying tugging-lurch that it usually does when he sees you. 

Sarah spots the two guys first and her eyes light up like Rudolph’s nose at the sight of John B. 

“Baby!” she grins, hurrying over to him and throwing herself into his arms. JJ’s distracted by watching the reunion that he doesn’t see you coming. You collide into him with a huff, tossing your arms around his shoulders and neck. 

“Hey,” he chuckles, easing a hand onto your back to hold you near. His heart is close to beating out of his chest. 

“I missed you,” you hum into his sweater. 

His heart beats even faster. Stop it, he warns himself. She doesn’t mean it like that. 

“You two better get those girls to bed,” Kiara chuckles, no less drunk herself. 

“No funny business, eh? We’ve got eyes!” Cleo warns with a wagging finger, making herself and Kie break into more giggles. 

“Yes! Bed!” you whoop. You grab JJ’s hand and practically drag him through the hallways to your shared bedroom. There’s a queen bed and a single, with the former claimed by you despite JJ’s bartering. Since the two of you grew up together, it made sense to the Pogues to pair you up in the house. Now JJ was starting to wish that wasn’t the case; it made it harder to ignore how cute you are. 

“Oh my God, JJ, you missed it! We started talking and playing games and listening to music. Oh! And there was drinks.”

“You don’t say,” JJ quips, raising his brows. 

You sit yourself down on the bed and tug him down beside you by his arm. He laughs and indulges. 

“You had a good night, then?” he checks. Your eyes are wide and shining; pupils telling of your intoxication. The smile on your face could battle that of all the Christmas lights in Kildare with how it glows. 

“The best night! Just wish you were there,” you tell him sincerely. 

“Me too,” he smiles. 

As he holds your gaze, something sombre comes over you, and your smile begins to falter. Before he can fixate, you’re resting your head against his shoulder and sighing. 

“JJ?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you want for Christmas?” you wonder, interrupting yourself with a yawn. It seems now that you're away from the spiked eggnog and blaring tunes, the tiredness has begun to seep in. 

“What’d I want for Christmas?” JJ echoes. He hums as he thinks long and hard. He knows the obvious answer - the want of all his wishes - but that one is a no-go. “I don’t know. Maybe a new board? That’d be sweet.”

“Mm. That would be pretty dope,” you agree sleepily. 

JJ can smell your perfume and shampoo so close and it’s physically painful. “What about you? What’d you want?”

“Just one thing, really,” you murmur. “S’really important though.”

JJ glances down and sees your eyelids beginning to sag. Your breath smells like wine and cherry and custard and sugar. It’s sweet like you. “Makin’ me nervous.”

“I guess the only thing I want for Christmas,” you say, yawning again, “is you.”

JJ’s smile is wiped clear from his face like snow washed away in a morning shower. No. Surely…He definitely must have misheard. 

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. A smile starts to tickle his skin, giddy like a boy on his first Christmas. He scans the room and finds a picture of the two of you pinned to the wall, and he smiles brighter. Because John B was right, and his wish came true, and you want him the way he wants you. Hell, he might be lucky enough that you love him too. 

“Wait, do you–”

But before JJ can go on to question, he looks down to find you’re already asleep. Barely-there snores slip through your lips. He smiles to himself and sweeps a finger across your forehead, brushing back some of your hair. Your nose scrunches and it’s so adorable, it takes everything in JJ not to shake you awake and kiss you. 

Not tonight, though. 

After he’s eased you under the covers, JJ lingers by the side of your bed. Then, he dips down and presses a kiss to your forehead. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’ll tell you how he feels. 

“You’re all I want for Christmas, too,” JJ whispers against your skin. 

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ An Endearing Infestation

Tw: none, silly fluff

It started with catching one of those tiny rascals in your house as you cleaned. No bigger than the size of your palm, a tiny blob of soot-like ink was accidentally caught amidst your vacuuming when you tidied up your house in your Serenitea Pot. You didn't even comprehend it resembled a small bird chick with one crimson eye since the small thing got frightened and scurried off underneath your couch. Any attempts to look for it were futile.

Another time, you were certain you caught two identical ones playing in the closet before sprinting with a hurried squeak when you stepped into the room. You started doubting your eyesight at first, before speculating the worst - some sort of an infestation in your pristine clean house. Yet your worries were settled aside when you finally managed to take a closer look at the many little birds that found residence within the crooks of your house. Fluffy in an unkempt manner, they were tiny birds that stared at you with their single crimson eye and a tiny crest on their round soot-colored bodies. You could almost chuckle at how silly these weird creatures were, but you couldn’t deny their cuteness. They were afraid you would kick them away, or even shoo them with a broom - but you’re not that heartless. 

The entourage of identical yet tiny blobs often observed you. They appeared curious about the many things you did in your Serenitea Pot. When you read in your study, they would play with the books. When you cooked food in your kitchen, some of the tiny birds would try and help you by pushing the spice rack closer or bringing more stems of herbs. And on late, cold nights, when you’d light up the fireplace in the guest room, even the timidest of the bunch would come out from their hiding spot to huddle neatly for warmth. They were easily spooked by the tiniest of movements, so you did not disturb their gentle napping when they fluffed up their pitch-black feathers and clustered close to you for heat. It was a charming sight.

Nevertheless, you are yet to discover where these little rascals came from. You never encountered them during your travels in Teyvat, that's for sure. However, something about those round eye orbs of theirs seemed familiar… There must be a source. And most importantly, why would these rascals broaden in quantity when a certain Fatui Doctor stays in your Serenitea Pot?

Your brain instantly conjured up a thought, like a detective reaching a moment of eureka when solving a mystery  - Dottore. 

With a grumble and a whine, you had to confront him. To no one's surprise, the Harbinger found solace in your Serenitea Pot, often spending time in your study or directly bothering you. It’s a habit of his, like a daily routine. Thus, you stormed upstairs to your library where he lingered, and saw him sitting casually by the desk. 

Dottore wasn’t reading. He wasn’t mulling over some papers or research. No, he was plainly sitting and peeking somewhere behind the table.

“Dottore,” - you declared his name firmly. “Whatcha got there?”

The man glances at you neutrally; no surprise or dismissive groans. Yep, this man is concealing something. He replies nonchalantly: “Nothing. Just my morning coffee, as you can clearly see. Perhaps you need a vision check, dear?”

You give him the look. A look of raised eyebrows and a glare that says ‘Oh really now?’. Dottore's mouth pressed into a thin line, silently holding the mug. He remained eerily still and silent as if you tested each other through nonverbal communication.

And yet neither of you broke the silence, but instead, a small birdttore peeked from the Doctor’s mug. Even when the little thing caught your scrutinizing gaze and tried to hide in the mug, its single-feathered crest was still visible from the mug.

“There isn’t even any coffee in your mug, Dottore!” - you huffed in an astounded manner, placing your hands on your hips. “Come on, spill it out. How many of those wee bird-things you’ve got hiding?”

“I literally have no idea what you’re rambling about. Don’t be outrageous.” - He replied in such an easy and dismissive manner; it would’ve been believable were it not for that impish smirk that tried to break free on his face.

“Dottore, there is one peeking in your mug and I can see another one hiding by the chair. Perhaps you’re the one who requires his vision checked, hm?”

With a deep sigh and a mocking tone, his shoulders loosened and he reluctantly put down his facade - “Fine, you’ve got me. Consider this as an astute observation on your part. Are you pleased?”

As Dottore sat up more comfortably by the desk, the abundance of teeny ink blobs came out from their hiding. So minuscule yet wobbly, they gleefully revealed themselves and started scurrying everywhere. On the desk, by the floor, in Dottore’s mug… some even happily climbed onto your leg as you stood there, baffled. Dottore just watched with that giddy grin of his.

“... Okay, so, what are these? And why are there more of them in my house? Please tell me this isn’t some sort of an experiment gone wrong and now you’re disposing of them in my home, like getting rid of an infestation.”

“Infestation? Do not be ridiculous. It is clearly the opposite! A small experiment gone right, and now it's serving its purpose.”

“And that purpose is… what?” - You raised an eyebrow. Dottore stood up and smiled cheekily:

“Having bits and pieces of me to accompany you while I’m away.”

He replied so confidently as if it was ludicrous of you to not realize it earlier. Yes, of course. Creating sentient little bird things so your significant other wouldn’t be bored. So obvious!

“...Is this some sort of ritual or experiment that I am not aware of?” - You clasped your hands and asked suspiciously. Some of the tiny blobs climbed onto your head. “Because if this is your way of ‘marking your territory’ then excuse me. I didn’t know that mad scientists exercise such a custom.”  

“Oh shut it. You’re not even mad that I sneaked in so many of them when I visited you. It was comically easy to slip them every other day in your manor. That means they are serving their purpose accordingly. Stealthily keeping you company.” - Il Dottore smiled triumphantly, standing right in front of you.

“Wha-? I can barely handle one Dottore, and now you make me handle many tiny pieces of you? Countless silly little birdttores to keep an eye on me? No way!”  

“Sure, sure,” - The Doctor scoffed and laughed at your attempt at teasing. His one arm wrapped around your shoulder and pulled you for a much-needed kiss on the cheek. His lips pressing tightly and lingering on your skin. “There, can your endearing face handle just a couple more kisses or must I humbly request for that smile of yours to return?”

You rolled your eyes at him but didn't rebuttal.

Hence, the evening was spent the usual way. Resting by the couch, the fire crackled in the fireplace. And while you and Dottore relished in the rare opportunity of leisure time, the tiny birdttores huddled once more by your lap or perched on Dottore’s shoulder. The Harbinger kept his arm around you, allowing you to rest your head on his chest. Although you couldn’t see through his mask, his stern expression kept an eye on the teeny rascals, as if warning them not to disturb you at home if they didn’t want to be exterminated on the spot.

Therefore, all was well... But Dottore had to think of ways to lock the bedroom in the future so those scoundrels wouldn’t bother you two in bed.

➻ First time posting a fic here. Please tell me how I did! And if you wish to see a casual day with Dottore and his birbttores - here is my art! 

[nellielsss]

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ ᴏɴ ɪᴛ

Summary: He's just so different from you! How could anyone have imagined you getting with someone like him? He's just so... brawny! Inspired by Check On It by Beyoncé. Note: Short little drabble w my favorite brawny boys! I figured it'd be best for something sweet after the previously dark fic... Also I might've characterized Yami wrong but I'm part of the "rough shell, soft heart" agenda!! Incl: Toji Fushiguro, Yami Sukehiro CW: Sexual intercourse, praising, light degrading, mentions of blood/violence

╰┈➤ Nobody could've ever imagined that you'd end up with a man like Toji Fushiguro of all people. For christ's sake--he was a mercenary for hire!! Not only that, but he was just so... brutish and brawny!

For starters, he was a good 6'2, and every single square inch of his body had muscle on it. His traps were wider than Victoria Lake, his abs could shred cheese, and his forearms were thicker than most men's biceps. He only ever wore a tight-fitted black shirt that had a new hole with every usage, and his grey sweatpants somehow remained tied up, even after all the times he's worn them (and forgotten to wash them... seriously, Toji?)

It wasn't just his appearance, either; it was also his personality that made him stick out like a sore thumb. The amount of times he's forgotten to say "please" after ordering a plate of takoyaki has to be recorded in the Guiness Book of World Records.

"Toji, you can't just keep bumping into guys with your tits!" you scolded the man, huffing after he knocked over yet another guy at a restaurant. He merely barked out a laugh at the mention of his "tits" and ruffled your hair.

"Ah, shit, I guess you're right doll-face. Hey, guy back there, sorry for bumping into ya!" he said from over his shoulder almost haphazardly. The guy merely grumbled curses under his breath and went on his way. "Guess he didn't want an apology," he said, turning his head back to you.

"Whatever, just don't make an enemy out of the other diners here. Seriously, what if they jumped you for the $5 you had?"

For someone who wore so much pink, you always had something to say (It should also be mentioned that you swore more than him, even though he was the one getting judged for it).

And then there was you, the chick on his arm: the epitome of bubblegum pink. You were the girl in those 2000s flicks who wore the Juicy Couture tracksuits; the one who had every single Tiffany bracelet/necklace/earring; the one who was first in line when the Louis Vuitton Murakami collection dropped. Your lip gloss was never not reflecting the sun and your hair was never not bouncing. Your charm lied deeper than the surface, though: it was the sassy charm that you had. Always so quick to call somebody a bitch but never slow to reapply your raspberry pink lipstick afterwards.

You were a dream girl, and he was a nightmare, so why did it work so well? Why did you look so good on his huge arms? Why did his face always soften softer than the softest memory foam pillows that money could buy? Why did he always hand you his credit card when you went out shopping with him?

It was quite simple: you were a light--the light in his dark. Where others saw a brutish monster who only knew how to kill, you saw a man worthy of love and appreciation. You knew that there was a soft, gooey inside, and you were probably the first one to reach it.

When he felt like giving up on everything and just disappearing, you were always the first one to touch his face with your manicured hands and calmly yet firmly encourage him to get up because it'd always be okay with you by his side.

So, naturally, he was the first one to cheer for him when he did get up and did what he came to do.

Everything about your relationship was as sweet as the flavor of lip gloss on your lips, and he always wanted seconds. Thirds, if he was turned away from people's prying eyes. Fourths, fifths, sixths--eh, he always lost count of the number of kisses he planted on your lips during your make-out sessions.

Speaking of...

There was nothing sweeter than when he had you on his big lap, ass nestled perfectly in the muscle of his thighs while you made out with him sloppily. He had a light pink blush on his face the entire time, and he was messily pressing his scarred, almost chapped lips to yours. You, likewise, were putting your glossy, delicious lips on his, letting the man do what he wanted to your mouth.

"Mmmmm... ah~"

"Yeah, princess?"

"Gimme more, Toji, more kisses!"

"What's the magic word?"

"P-Please, just... ruin my lip gloss, make me lose my mind, Toji--you're the only one who can make me lose my shit and make it feel so fucking good!"

"Now, what kind of a boyfriend would I be if I denied my pretty girl what she wanted?"

With a deep chuckle and another laugh, he pulled you back in for more kisses, greedily devouring your plump lips and bruising them from the sheer intensity. You, likewise, put your hands under his shirt and started lifting it up. "Woah there, doll. Gettin' ahead of ourselves, are we? I like it."

Touching his body wasn't enough for your grubby hands, though; you wanted--needed more of your brawny boyfriend. Having his calloused, impossibly large palms on your body, pawing at the globes of your ass or the fat of your tits never ceased to make you a whiny, moaning little mess.

Speaking of the many things he enjoyed about you... another absolutely sweet thing about you was how you let the man do anything he wanted to your pretty body. He was already twice your size, meaning he could do absolutely anything to you. He could fuck you in mid-air and eat your ass if he wanted to, but there was something so tasty, so delectable about how you willingly gave yourself up for his pleasure. You let him toss you around like a ragdoll on his impossibly large cock, and you even begged him to do so numerous times.

Like when he'd moved the makeout sesh to the bedroom (and tossed off all those pesky clothes along the journey) and had you bent over on the bed. He was holding your hips up in the air, your deliciously juicy ass being pawed at and kneaded by your assassin boyfriend. His face was buried right in between the fat of your cheeks, his tongue lapping up at the delicacy that was your ass. If there was one thing he was, it was an ass-eater. He always made sure to make you cum at least four times on his tongue before he'd bury his cock inside, just to ensure that you didn't break on the damn thing.

"Oh... o-ooh, Toji, f-fuck~" you gasped, your perfectly manicured hands pawing at the sheets and holding onto them for dear life. "You always e-eat me out so fuckin' good, m-more, please!"

You bucked your hips in his face like an impatient, stubborn horse, one that needed things done her way. He spanked you and looked up at you over your cheeks, his mouth detaching from your already abused hole.

"Lemme enjoy my meal in peace first, you fuckin' whore," he growled, spanking at it again and burying his face right back inside.

The muscles of his biceps curled deliciously as he dove right back in, eating your ass even more voraciously. He was an instatiable beast, a brute who bent over his woman as he desired. Well, at least half the time; the other half, he could be quite caring and even needy if he got too into it.

Luckily for you (and your spine), he was seemingly content in a stable but enjoyable pace that worked out for the two of you. Any pace worked for him really--if it was fast, he could easily pound you to his liking, and if it was slow, then he got to savor every little feeling.

Right now, he was working your hips back and forth his cock. His leg was propped up and he had both of his huge hands digging into your hips, making sure that you weren't going anywhere.

"Fuuuck, that's it, baby, move that ass up and down daddy's cock," he rumbled, throwing his head back and groaning. "You just let me do anything I want, eh?"

"Mhm~" was all you could moan. You were barely processing what he was saying, his dick buried too deep to let you think straight. It was like his dick rearranged both your guts and your brain, which wasn't unlikely considering how long and thick it was.

"I bet you can't even hear me properly," he snickered, spanking you slightly to watch the fat jiggle. You let out a yelp, coming back to your senses temporarily and looking over your shoulder at him.

"S-So fucking mean," you panted heavily, your tongue lolling out of your mouth slightly.

He merely chuckled and dug his dick in as deep as he could, holding himself there so he could abuse your sweet spot and prolong it. "A-Ah~!! Fuck, fuck, fuck, you're just bullying me now!!"

"Maybe I am, but you're enjoying it, right?"

You stayed silent.

"That's what I fuckin' thought, princess. Goddamn, you're so spoiled by me. I buy you all your cute little things, give you all sorts of kisses, and I'm met with that smart mouth of yours."

Another spank and another press to the prostate.

"But I don't care about any of the shit you say, because at the end of the day? I'm gonna have you takin' this dick until your body gives up. And what makes it better is that you let me, (Y/N). You let me fuck you like you're nothin' more than a flesh light programmed to take my dick. I oughta do that to ya--rewire yer brain so all you know how to do is take. All. Of. My. Inches." he punctuated each word with a thrust, earning more incoherent babbles from your lips. "Aww, what was that? My lil' princess wants to talk? Talk, baby, let daddy hear it."

He gently but firmly grabbed your head, squeezing your jaw open with his hand and leaning in close. "W-Wanna take it day and night, d-daddy! I'll let you do anything you want t'me, just keep fucking me!" you said finally, earning a shit-eating grin from Toji.

"That's what I like to hear, baby. Now, d'ya mind if I speed it up a lil'? Deep strokes are nice and all, but I wanna satisfy this libido of mine as well."

He didn't wait for a response, already speeding up and fucking into you faster and harder. Soon, he was slamming into and bottoming out your already abused ass, the slap and fap of each thrust echoing throughout the room, along with your moans and whimpers. You buried your face in the pillows, the drool spilling from your lips as your big brute of a boyfriend manhandled you and fucked you to his liking.

"Yeahhhh, you're gonna take this big dick o'mine all night long. I don't care if it's 'too much' or 'too good;' you're gonna take it, and you're gonna fucking love it."

A few more thrusts, and he could feel his balls tightening up with each thrust. "Fuckin' hell, look at you, baby," he crooned, reaching down to grab your hair and make you look at the nearby mirror. "If only your friends could see you now: gettin' dicked down by the guy they told you to stay away from. All those little warnings they gave you 'bout me being bad news... I mean, some of 'em were kinda right, but they were wrong about me not knowing how to treat a lady, because look at you. I'm sluttin' you out to your heart's content for crying out loud!"

His words were only met by little whimpers and cute moans that escaped your bruised lips. He chuckled, and he could feel himself softening up by how vulnerable you were being. He reached out, cupping your cheek and releasing your hair. "Hey, look at me baby, look at your boyfriend. I wanna see your pretty face," he crooned softly, turning you over so he could look at you in all your fucked out glory. "You're amazing, taking all this meat like a champ. I'm gonna reward you with a nice, warm cream-pie, is that alright with ya? I'm gonna stuff you niiice and full of my cum until you can't even move, then I'll stuff you some more. I'll breed you 'til you can only rely on me to help you, but don't worry your pretty little head because I'm the man for the job."

All his ramblings were met by soft little whimpers and moans. He knew you were holding out, too embarrassed to speak your dirty truth to him. "Tsk, all bark n' no more left?" he reached down to play with you, jolting you back to reality. "There you go. Now, tell daddy what you want him to do."

"Wanna be stuffed, just like you said... Wanna be manhandled and stuffed 'til I'm oozing cum, and then I wanna be stuffed s'more--I want everything you're telling me about!"

"Oh, everything?" he asked with an amused sneer, slamming back in and making your body jolt and shudder. "It's gonna be a lot, (Y/N), but I know you can take it. You've always taken everything I've given ya, and for that I applaud you."

He stuck a thumb into your mouth and crooned, the sight making his dick harder somehow. "So fuckin' pretty," he murmured. "I got the prettiest little angel in all of Japan right underneath me, taking all my meat. Good god, I must be the luckiest bastard alive, eh?" His thumb exited your mouth and went back to your face, cupping it and squeezing it while he fucked you good.

Finally, you spoke up once more, panting heavily and looking up at him. "Toji... I love you, I love you so much- j-just keep fucking me, keep talking, I wanna forget all about everything else for a little while... Dumb me down, make me stop thinking for now."

He looked at you with understanding, but he happily obliged and ramped up the speed. "Whatever princess wants, princess gets. I've gotcha, baby, daddy's gotcha. Just sit back and lemme do what I do best, hmm?"

"Lemme stuff ya with my love, angel."

It was soft, tender moments during sex like these that made your relationship so wonderful. No matter how big of a brute he was, he'd always be there for you.

╰┈➤ The captain of the Black Bulls, Yami Sukehiro, was many things. He was a damn good captain, an even better magic knight, and also one of the most feared and revered men in all the land. From the clover to the spade kingdom, everyone knew who he and his crew were. Whether they smiled to themselves or scrunched their noses in disgust, they at least had some knowledge of who he was or at least semblance of a misconception.

Nobody had ever imagined that Captain Yami was ever going to find love, much less true love. The man had some of the worst bowel problems that a man could've had, and who the fuck was ever gonna put up with his shit (literally)? Not only that, but he was just so unappetizing. One couldn't count the number of times he made death threats towards his own people.

"Disturb me while I'm shitting and I'll make sure your life goes to shit," was something he usually said to poor little Asta, or at least a variation of that sentence. The poor guy just wanted to know what the mission was for the day!

Suffice to say, he was quite undesirable. Sure, he had a rugged charm about him, but when does rugged just become prickly?

So when he got himself a girlfriend, everyone was both aghast and bewildered.

"I heard she just got out of prison after almost beating some poor guy to death during her magic exams!"

"Do you even think someone with her track record would've gotten an exam in the first place?"

"I wonder if she has any prison tats!"

"I heard that her favorite food is raw meat, fresh from the source; as in, she'll kill a cow and then start eating it right after!!"

"Who're we talking about?" you asked, your head angled to listen in on their conversation.

"Oh, just Captain Yami's new girl- wait, who are you?!"

"Hey, (Y/N), whaddya think you're doin' out here?!" Yami's voice boomed from the hallway. You and his Black Bulls turned in his direction, looking at the broad-shouldered captain as he made his way over to you all. "What did I tell you about sneakin' off when I'm not looking?"

"Sorry, Sweetie Pie," you giggled, putting your hands behind your back and looking up at him.

"Sweetie Pie?" They each took turns looking at each other. Asta's eyes were blown wide open with both fear and shock, Noelle was confused as to why a woman would get so close to Yami, and Vanessa looked quite intrigued by what she saw. "Is that his sister or something?-"

Yami pulled you in for a kiss and threw his arm around you, pressing your plump, juicy lips to his chapped, rougher ones. You giggled, putting your hands around his neck and standing on your tippy toes to reach him.

"WHAT THE HELL?!?"

Yami glared at them for breaking up your kiss but he let go of you, turning his attention to his subordinates. You also looked at them, all giggly with your lipstick smudged.

"I really didn't wanna do this, but (Y/N) here's left me with no choice. All of you, meet my girlfriend," he said with the slightest hint of a smile.

"GIRLFRIEND?!"

After that day, word quickly spread of Yami's new girlfriend, you, and how you were the antithesis of everything he was.

You with your pink pleated dress that held a petticoat underneath to make it even flouncier; your perfectly curled hair that held strawberry pink highlights; your long, manicured nails that always left marks on Yami's back after a long night spent in his nails. In reality, a woman like you should've been a Coral Peacock--or better yet, a Silver Eagle!

When asked why someone like you would join the Black Bulls, you simply said: "the other crews were too boring. Besides, they didn't have captains as hot as Yami!"

What you lacked in intimidation, you made up for in battle. Although many would've brushed off your "love magic" attribute simply for its name alone, when people actually got to witness it in battle, it was quite daunting. Couple that with your bloodthirsty attitude, and people could understand why you were a Black Bull.

What they couldn't understand was why you chose to date Yami.

You were cute, sweet to those around you (with a mischievous streak), and held a fondness for all things cute, as evident in your wardrobe choices.

You saved and kept stray cats in your room, even though Yami didn't like the way they pawed and kneaded at him with their claws; you liked going to the Capital just to eat all the sweet treats with your salary; you even scolded Yami's gambling habits; you were also motherly to the younger Black Bulls, even though you were barely the same age as they were. Asta always ran to you whenever he needed someone to protect him from the scary captain.

You and Yami together shouldn't have worked out together, but when the two of you were with each other, it just felt so... right! Your dynamic together and the little scolds that you sent Yami's way were just perfect. The way he could instantly melt into a puddle of adoration and love whenever he saw you should've been studied in a lab.

Given his towering stature and the size difference, he had a fondness for scooping you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

"Put me down, put me down!" you exclaimed, hitting his muscled back out of annoyance. "I'm still showing Asta my tea collection!!"

"You can show him those leaves later; it's time to give your boyfriend some attention."

Through thick and thin, the two of you were there for one another.

You learned how to stitch up wounds and even took up healing magic just for Yami's sake (as well as the others--Yami just liked to be selfish with you). "This is the last time I let you go out gambling in those shitty ass bars. Can't you at least go to a nice one with people who don't take bigger dumps than you?" You were currently chiding him, stitching up a wound that he got after a poker night escalated into an impromptu mission.

"It's more fun, babe. Besides, it builds character. I oughta take you out with me one day, show off my pretty princess- ow!" he exclaimed, feeling the needle prick him a bit harder than before.

"Take me out to one of those and I'll kill you and the patrons there."

"I don't doubt for a second that you could do all of that," he chuckled, shaking his head at the notion of dating a sweet but psycho girl.

While he had his sweet moments with you, he could also have his rough moments. Like how he had you underneath him with your legs over his shoulders and his cock drilling inside of you.

"Thought shit was sweet, eh, doll face? Thought you could tease me in front of all my subordinates and make me lose my mind?" he asked you mid-stroke, each aggressive snarl punctuated by his cock hitting your prostate. Each time he reached it with the head of his cock, your eyes widened and you threw your head back in pleasure, only to have him grab your chin and make you look at him. "Look at me, doll. Look at me while I fuck your brains out."

"Y-Yes, sir," you whimpered, your lip quivering as he ruined your insides. He scoffed, chuckling to himself, shaking his head at how easily he could make you lose your mind.

"Fuckin' love the way you call me sir; at least a slut like you knows her place."

He readjusted the angle, drilling even deeper into your gaping, abused hole, his heavy balls slapping against your ass deliciously. "Is this what you wanted? To make your man go wild and fuck your brains out?"

You couldn't say anything, biting your lip and trying to suppress all those sweet little moans of yours.

"Nah, don't hide that shit from me, baby, lemme hear you scream for your man." He stuck his fingers into your mouth, prying it open and making you moan like your life depended on it.

"Fuuuck, Yami, fuck me!!" You managed to gargle out, the fingers in your mouth making your words slur together.

"That's what I'm talkin' about. Lemme hear the way you love taking this cock--because you do, you do love taking it. You take it every. Single. Night. I bet it turns you on, getting your brains fucked out and your guts rearranged by your captain. Lemme tell you, baby: it feels amazing fuckin' this ass every single night. Makes me feel like the Wizard King himself with the way you milk my cock for all its worth," he said with a laugh, reaching down and slapping your ass again.

You, on the other hand, were too fucked out of your mind with the way he bullied your poor little hole. You were drunk off his cock, your head bobbing back and forth, moans escaping your lips as he destroyed your insides. He chuckled to himself, knowing that he'd broken you just with his cock.

"Little slut can't keep her mind in one piece, even after beggin' her boyfriend to fuck her? Hah, should've known you were all bark and no fucking bite."

If you had any decency or sanity left, you would've kept the noise down in case anyone heard Yami drilling you into his bed--but you didn't; you never had a shred of self respect left after he got you into his bed. He'd make you suck his cock until your jaw couldn't handle it anymore; bend you every which way until he was done; make your ass redder than a tomato.

Right now, he was far from tapping out--he still had at least 30 other positions to put his whore of a girlfriend in! Starting with the full nelson. You wondered why he bought a full length mirror and put it in front of the bed, but you quickly got to understand why when he angled you just right so he could see every little thing happening to you.

He put your back up against his chest and abs, hooked his arms underneath your legs and started right back up again. "Hah, look at the way you're bouncin' on my cock, baby," he crooned into your ear (knowing full well you were knocked out mentally). "Just look at those tits, baby. I'm gonna suck on 'em after I'm done making you bounce on this dick." He thrusted up and down, up and down, his thick cock making squelching sounds with each bottom-out. He watched your cute little cock bounce around, the little thing getting dwarfed by his own size.

"I love putting you in this position, baby. Lets me see my pretty angel in her full glory," he murmured, his words considerably less harsh than before. You merely moaned and laid your head back on his shoulder, mewling as your boyfriend did you in.

"Y'like it when I'm gentler, baby? Well, gentle for my standards," he asked you, continuing to bounce you on his cock.

"Mhm~" you moaned softly, biting your lip.

"Yeah, I know you do," he chuckled, giving your neck a quick kiss and lick before looking back at the mirror. "Y'know I don't mean any of the shit I say, right? You're no whore; you're my sweet little angel who can do no wrong."

"Mhm~"

"Ah, shit, I might've done you in a little too hard," he chuckled, shaking his head. "I can't help myself when it comes to you, gorgeous. You make me feel all sorts'a things, make me lose my cool."

"I d-do?"

"Of course you do, baby. You're just too pretty for your own good... you're the only weak spot in my armor--my one and only Achilles heel. You make me lose my cool, and pathetically so," he repeated once more, pressing kisses all over your neck and shoulder as he did so.

"H-Hah, you bet your sorry ass I do," you giggled softly, smiling to yourself and mewling once more.

He simply shook his head and held you tighter, whispering little "I love you"s into your ear all while holding your legs up so he could keep making his baby feel good.

Suddenly, he felt your hole tightening up around his cock, and it made him more alert as to what was going on. "Sir- 'm gonna, 'm gonna cum soon," you said through mewls, your thighs quivering and shaking as he thrusted up into you.

"Yeah? Go ahead, baby--make a mess all over Yami's cock." You did as he told, spurting cum all over your perfect body and tits, and he quickly shot his load right into you afterwards. "Shit, shit, shit- fuuuck, that's right, sweets; take all my cum. It's all for you, so make sure you don't waste a single drop," he panted, holding you down firmly so he could empty his balls inside of you.

Even after emptying a whole load into your gaping hole, his cock was still hard and ready. "H-How are you still hard?" you asked as he repositioned you onto your back.

"I told ya already: it's that effect you've got on me. Besides, I've been single for a while until you came along, so I've got a lot of pent-up frustration and cum to give ya." He gave you a cheeky grin, spreading your cheeks apart and reinserting himself into your stuffed hole. Some of the cum spilled out with his deep thrusts, and you were back to the moaning mess that he wanted you to be.

"Just like that, take your boyfriend's cock, baby," he murmured, reaching down to plant a kiss on your lips. He moved to your sensitive tits, his tongue swirling around your nipple and taking it into his mouth. You let out another gorgeous mewl, throwing your head back out of pleasure.

"I can't- I can't take anymore, Yami," you whimpered, feeling overstimulated with everything that was happening to you.

"Of course you can, baby. You're a big girl; you're stronger than you look after all," he reassured you, surprisingly soft and sweet for his usual demeanor. Once he felt you relax around his cock, he sighed, planting even more kisses on your body. "Just like I knew you could... god, baby, you're so good to me, so fucking good. One of these days, I'm gonna wife you up n' parade you around on my arm, make all those other captains jealous of me, heh. Yeah, you'll make the perfect wife to me. I'll give you this dick every night, and you'll give me all of that sweet, sweet love of yours, hm? Sounds like a fair trade to me. Mrs. Yami Sukehiro... yeah, sounds about right."

You simply nodded, his cock hitting your prostate repeatedly, each hit turning your brain into mush. He looked down at you with nothing but love in his eyes, allowing himself to be soft for a little while.

"Just keep moanin', baby, your captain's got you."

The next day, the other Black Bulls avoided looking at both you and Yami, their cheeks too flushed from the noises you made last night. Yami could see it on their faces, so he shot everyone a wink and threw an arm around your shoulder.

© ʙʀᴜɴᴇᴛᴛᴇ-ʙɪᴛᴄʜ77 on tumblr - get your own shit bitches | ca. 6/12/2024

[ghostbustting]

Hiiii can you write something about being a guitar tech for james and you two get really close but then Jason gets quite jealous andddd.... (Smut with a bit of angst and some fluff maybe ☺️)

Guess who just got their first request? 🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️

╰┈➤“𝑰𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲„ ๋࣭⭑

Jason Newsted x Reader

Contains Smut.

My eyes were fixated onto the guitar in my hands that will be used by Metallica’s James Hetfield in a few hours from now for their concert. My fingers trail across the black ESP MX220, searching for any flaw or scratches.

I pick on the new string I had put on his guitar as an exchange of the one he broke last time on a practice.

Getting a job as Hetfield’s guitar tech was honestly better than I expected. Unlike the stage team, I don’t need to walk back and forth and back and forth, carrying heavy properties in my arms.

Instead, I just have to make sure his instrument wont be messed up for the performance. Cause if it was.. let’s say I won’t be here backstage right now.

Suddenly, someone placed two hands on my shoulders, making my heart dropped and flinch to the point I almost dropped the guitar, immediately hugging it tightly.

Laughter fill my ears as I turn around and find a laughing James Hetfield in front of me. “Why so stiff? You’re not the one performing, are you sweets?” He chuckle and sit down next to me.

I quickly check the guitar once again, “Geez, James.. I almost dropped the guitar!” I huff in relief when I find no damage. He snicker and took a sip of the beer he’s holding. There’s seriously not a day I see him without a beer. “Yea yea, sorry.” He say.

The nice thing about working for James is that he was never really as cocky or bossy as how I heard some rock stars are. He’s actually a real charmer and entertainment.

As I start to tune the guitar carefully, I can still feel James’ presence next to me, hearing his breathing and drinking. Then, he spoke up again, something “Hey, did you cut your hair?”

I turn to him, my eyebrows raised out of confusion. “Uh.. yeah? Like a few inches or so to even the ends..” I answer slowly, “How did you even notice?” I chuckle.

He chuckle as well and run a hand through his long blond hair, “Ah you know, observation master.” He arrogantly say as he shrugs with a cocky smirk. “Lookin’ pretty, y’know?”

Flattered by his compliment, I look down and laugh softly, shaking my head.

At that moment, what I had not realized was the blue eyes from the other side of the room that are glaring at both me and James and the close proximity between us.

I was completely oblivious to how Jason was playing his bass while his eyes are narrowed and technically sending daggers at the back of our heads, his fingers basically gripping the instrument like his life depends on it.

“So..” James starts again, earning a hum from me while I’m still focused on tuning the electric guitar in my hands. I did notice the way he moved the slightest bit closer to me, “You got a plan after the concert?” He ask with a grin.

Feeling a bit taken aback by his sudden question, this time I look up at him before slowly answering, my voice slow with a hint of curiosity. “No.. why?” I raise an eyebrow. I’m quite positive almost everyone knew how much charm Hetfield holds and how many chicks he had wrapped around his fingers. On stage and.. in bed.

He look down and chuckle to himself before looking back up at me, “I’m just wondering if I can take you out for some dinner later?”

My eyes widens and I think about it for a while before answering.. “Huh.. sure.” I respond with a shrug and a small smile, earning a wider one from James.

“Shit!”

Our heads turns to the other side of the room, only to find Jason having one of his strings broken. I cringe to myself at the frustrated grimace he had on his face, glancing up at me a little before quickly returning his gaze to his bass as a roadie took it. He looked.. tense. Something in that glance he gave me odds me out..

I stood by the other roadies as we watch the band perform from the sides of the stage. I cross my arms, leaning against a wall. My eyes are fixated on James, cautious if his guitar starts going cuckoo, making sure I did all the set up for his guitar correctly.

At the same time, I can’t help but start nodding to the beat of the music, enjoying the live performance that’s right in front of my eyes in person.

But then, my sight of James was blocked when Jason starts playing next to him, his eyes clearly focused on me as he play his bass, headbanging. I raise an eyebrow as he manage to keep eye contact with me, my heartbeat starting to accelerate as he seem to not care if anyone else notice the- technically, eye-fucking he’s doing to me.

What is with him tonight?

Despite the sound being taken over by the two guitarists, I can tell Jason was playing his bass more intensely than usual. Scanning my eyes over his fingers, I can see the way he play the instrument much more passionately.

My eyes glance up again at his eyes, only to find him looking at me slightly smugly now, definitely noticing the way I eye his fingers. Fuck.

After that, I return my gaze towards the other band members and try to avoid Jason’s never ending gaze that lingers on and on.

Even when I’m not looking, I can feel how intense his eyes are. It’s burning a hole right through me. It’s causing a feeling of nervous to take over my sense.

The concert was getting closer to the end. The more I feel Jason’s eyes linger on me, the longer it feels like this show is going. I tap my shoe on the floor impatiently. I don’t even know why I’m getting so nervous.. I just.. His eyes..

“I’m going to the restroom.” I blurted out to the roadie next to me and tip toe my way out of the spot my shoes have practically been planted on since the concert started.

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I make my way past everyone and through the backstage area till my eyes finally found peace at the sign that shows the sentence: “Women’s Restroom”.

I sigh in relief as I place my hand on the handle and open the door, entering in. I close the door behind me and approach the sinks and rest my hands on both sides of it, looking at the reflection of my face on their slightly rusty mirror.

My eyes widens when I see how red my cheeks are. I slowly bring my fingertips up to my cheek, finding out how warm they are. What the hell happened to me?

Before I could process things any longer, the door busted open and when I turn to look towards it, I was met by the one and only Jason Newsted, slamming the door shut behind him and locking it as he storm up to me.

My heart beats louder and faster when he place his hand on mine, forcing them to stay on the sides of the sink.

“Jason—”

“What the fuck were you thinking, accepting James’ date?”

How similar his voice now and the voice he use onstage scares me, his hot breath fanning against my neck, making my breath hitch and my chest starts heaving up an down. “It—”

Before I can finish my sentence, he cut me off. “Did I tell you to speak?” He ask right against my ear as one of his hand clasped onto my mouth, shutting me up. I shake my head in response, trying to stay quiet for him.

He chuckle dryly and holds my wrists behind my back with his other hand, staring into my eyes through the reflection of us in the mirror. “Goddamn slut. Fucked me through the whole tour.. screamed my name almost every night.. kept what we have in the dark.. then you decided to flirt and go on a date with my bandmate instead.” He whisper.

Every letter that leave his lips seems to meet my chest directly, causing it to keep pounding only louder and louder. His eye contact on the mirror is strong, almost as if it’s directly. One thing I’ve learned from our times together.. Jason’s gaze is sharper than any razor. It never failed to have my heart pop out of my chest. And the only one that can pop it right back in is him.

“And now.. now you’re gonna pay.”

Before I can process his words, his hands moved to my hips and he spun me around, almost immediately connecting his lips onto mine.

I gasp into his mouth before slowly giving in and kissing back, my eyes fluttering close while my hands start to trail up to hold his cheeks, only for my hands to be slapped away.

He scoff and pin my hands onto the sides of the sink again, “Think a slut like you deserve to touch me? Keep. your. hands. there.” He demanded me, grinning just a bit at how aroused yet restricted I feel.

Then, my skin was blessed by the feeling of his lips back on me, this time on my neck. His kisses were mean and sloppy, biting a mark onto my skin every now and then. I yearn to touch that hair of his, run my fingers through it, pull on it.. but I know better than to disobey him.

Small whines leave my lips as he pull my shirt up and let it stay at the top of my chest, then he unbutton my pants and pull them down, the fabric pooling around my feet. He lean back to take in the sight for a second. “..There’s no way I’m letting Hetfield see you like this.” He mutter and shook his head before grabbing my hips and spun me around yet again.

I hold onto the sides of the sink, feeling like it’s the only thing I can depend on to balance my weak knees as he pushed my back and force me to bend over the sink. I feel his hand rub my back up and down.. slowly going into my hair and yanking it down so my head look up, my eyes meeting my own in the mirror.

“Keep your eyes there for me, baby.”

I didn’t even realize his own pants and boxers have left his skin, leaving his length to be revealed, hard as a rock with precum dripping on the tip. Oh how I crave to taste him. But for tonight, I know I have to play by his game and his only.

A shaky breath leave my lips as he pull my panties to the side, feeling the tip of his cock just lightly pressed against my swollen cunt, already wet.

The moment he actually pushed into me with a groan.. my pupils struggles to stay fixated on the sight in the mirror as a small whimper escapes me when he start slowly pumping into me, stretching me out.

The way his length will always stretch me out like a fresh cunt every time we do this still scratches a part of my brain, the way he always make me feel like a new woman every time he enters me, no matter how many nights we’ve done it during this whole tour.

His hands on my hips, fingers gripping tightly that it’s no doubt that it’ll leave a mark. I gasp as he starts to play mean again, thrusting faster and faster as the second goes on.

I can hear him groan and moaning behind me, a noise I would never get bored of, a type of melody I’d savor till the end of the world, a type of rhythm I’d surely find myself touching myself to once this tour ends.

Moans leave my own lips, unable to keep how good it feels to myself. My eyes starts to roll to the back of my head.. when I feel a harsh slap to my ass and another hand yanking my hair, earning a wince from me. “Eyes.” He demanded, this time his voice delivered it rather calmly.

Another thing that’ll keep me up all night is the way his voice will stay so calm and chill despite how mean he’s treating me. It made me acknowledge how good I made him feel, he’s surely not one to hide it as through our sexes he’d make statements like; “So good..”, “You make me lose my mind..”, “I love the way you feel”, and I’m not one to complain. Why would I?

We paused our movements when suddenly.. we hear a knock on the restroom door along with a voice calling my name. James Hetfield’s voice, to be specific.

“You in there? Hello?”

I feel a pang of fear and guilty of having to ditch him for Jason. I wonder if he’ll realize I am indeed here, yet stuffed with his bassist’s cock buried deep in my stomach.

“Answer him.” Jason’s words caught my off guard, I shift my head a little to look at Jason with wide eyes like he’s crazy. He actually looked dead serious, which made me gulp and shake my head, pleading him silently not to.

But then, he grabbed onto me and bring me to the door, his length staying inside me the whole time as he pin me against the wall this time, bringing his lips to my ear. “Answer. him.”

With a shaky voice, I slowly speak up. “Y-yes, James?”

“Oh! What are you doing there? Ready to go?”

“I..” I look over at Jason as he slowly hold my hips again slowly starts his thrusting again, creating a knot in my stomach as the tension is way too high for me to stay steady. “I- I don’t feel too good, J-James.. I’m sorry—” I quickly cut myself off with my hand as a moan almost slipped out.

I can hear the disappointment and concern in James’ voice as he spoke again, “Want me to come in?”

”NO! I- I mean— no, sorry, please I—” I struggle with my words as the feeling of releasing comes close to me, before I can utter another letter out, James spoke up again.

“I understand, see you tomorrow.” The disappointment in his voice guilts me out, but I’m way too distracted by Jason’s passionate thrusts as they get even faster again once James walk away from the door.

I let out a shaky breath as I hold onto the door, “Please.. ‘M close..” I whimper and try to grind back against him.

He groan and wrap an arm around my stomach, pulling my back against his chest, “Let go with me, baby. You can do it..” His voice was muffled against my neck as his hips’ movement starts to falter and he burry his face in my hair.

With one last thrust of his length, Jason and I release together, dirty noises coming out of us together as we can only hope no one from outside hears it. I can feel the sensation of our mixed cum oozing out of my pussy, his cock still buried in me as we try to steady ourselves.

My legs feels shaky as Jason holds me close in order to balance me, “You okay?” He mumble against my shoulder, pressing light feather-like kisses onto it.

Another thing I love. How soft he is after sex.

I hold onto his arm that’s still around my stomach and nod a little, huffing as I lean against him for support. “I- I’ll manage..” I spoke softly with a short nod, whimpering when he slip his cock out of me.

“I’m sorry.. I should’ve just let you have your date.”

I slowly turn around and hold onto his shoulder for balance instead, “Why- why do you care so much anyways..? I mean.. we’re.. we’re just fucking, right..?” My voice stays soft and gentle as I look into his blue eyes, finding it hard to tell what emotion or thought is planted in those eyes.

He sigh and shake his head, “I can’t control my feelings. I just can’t.” He mumbled as he wrap his arms around me and hug me close, his face hidden in my neck, I can feel his lips giving those soft kisses again, this time on top of the marks he had previously given. “I want you. Bad.”

I look down at him as I realize what he meant, slowly wrapping my own arms around him, “Jason..” I whisper. Meanwhile, the boy stays silent and stay hidden in my neck.

Might this be the start of something new?

[toovaeloe]

errands and no game 𝝑𝝔 “Wooooaaahhh!! Oookay, he did not mean to say that.”

fluffy fluff drabble

genderneutral!reader x Satoru Gojo

Gojo and Megumi annoying big brother and annoyed little brother activities

Satoru visits the Fushiguro kiddos, and helps Megumi run an errand for his sister. Gojo however gets distracted by a gorgeous you— although charming you into giving him your number doesn’t exactly go as planned with Megumi around.

☁️🤍☁️

Question: 21 is supposed to be one of your best years, isn’t it? So why was Satoru spending it working, working, working, and oh, walking this stinker to and from the store??

Answer: Megumi wanted to do something nice for his sister, aka the chore of grocery shopping. And Satoru had oh-so graciously volunteered to check in on those kids every once and awhile…(mostly to get out of missions.)

“Hey Megumi, Megumi, let’s get ice cream!” Satoru chirped exuberantly as they walked by the parlor, the 8 year old’s grip on his pant leg the only thing stringing him along the sidewalk and keeping him from stopping in for a frozen treat. “C’moonnn you’re in, like, 3rd grade! 3rd graders love ice cream!!!”

“Tsumiki’s waiting for me. We have to get back.” Megumi dismissed- far too dutifully for a child as he tugged on the white haired oaf’s trousers near his knee, a plastic grocery bag clutched in his other tiny hand. “And I don’t wanna get a treat without her.”

“Awwwwwww,” Satoru whined with melodramatic crankiness, his shoulders dropping and hands shoving into his pockets with a huff as he continued to trudge along, practically curved into the posture of a dissatisfied shrimp. “You’re the most boring, levelheaded kid ever. Seriously, I should hire a babysitter to cart you around…or maybe a prison warden since you’re so ruthless and cruel,” Satoru muttered sulkily.

The little Megumi echoed his huff, irritation creasing his brows. He felt like the one carting Gojo around if anything. “I said I could go by myself. You’re the one who was whining about going with me.”

Just as Gojo was about to give his grand explanation of why he couldn’t let an 8 year old roam the streets by himself, something, or rather someone caught his eye. You.

Within seconds, Satoru was rerouting Megumi with a yank under his armpit towards you. He wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to chat with a beautiful stranger- lay on the charm, woo you with his otherworldly beauty, etcetera etcetera. And to top it all off, he had Megumi with him. Dudes and Chicks dig kids, right? Makes him seem like a down to earth, kind hearted guy.

“Yeah, he’s like a little brother to me. ‘Just taking him out to shop for his sister. Me and the little guy are like this,” Satoru explained to you after stopping you before you could cross the street, speaking as if he was the most charitable philanthropist on earth, crossing his fingers in a show of supposedly how close he and Megumi were. Megumi however, looked at Gojo with the kind of grouchy, wrinkly frown only a child- or perhaps a sphynx cat- could muster.

He had the sole goal of getting home to complete this kind deed he’s done for his sister and see the cheerful smile she would have at his show of appreciation for her. And he wasn’t about to have that be delayed by Gojo’s pathetic attempt at scoring a date.

“Your eyes look weird on your face.”

Megumi pointed straight at you as he bluntly stated his critique. “Seriously, it looks like a 4 year old drew you-“

“Wooooaaahhh!! Oookay,” Satoru quickly covered the cynical kid’s mouth with a nervous chuckle, waving off his words. “Silly little bugger,” He playfully scolded in an attempt to salvage the interaction.

Satoru whipped his head over to Megumi as he moved his hand away from covering his mouth and to his hair, ruffling it into an even worse ebony mess as the boy warded off the giant palm with indignant swats. He was speaking to you, but his words were meant as a reprimand for the mini Fushiguro.“He did not mean to say that,” He’d grit through his teeth with a denotative glare.

“What he probably meant to tell you is how radiant your eyes are- I could stare into them forever, at least,” Gojo recuperated his charm quickly, flashing you an easily dazzling grin that he hoped would get you to at least crack a tiny smile.

“No, they creep me out. In fact, you should wear sunglasses to cover them- like this freak does.” The young tween continued his merciless and unsolicited attack on you with a gesture now to Gojo, before he strolled off with far too much nonchalance for an ankle biter. “I’m going home. Losers.”

You’re too stunned to speak. This is probably the last interaction you’ve expected to have on your way to the store.

“…kids say the darndest things, don’t they?” Gojo hums with an absentminded grin now that the entire run-in has fallen completely flat. “Such creative young minds.”

“Don't go forgetting me, alright? I’ll see you around!!!” He’d shout over his shoulder, a halfhearted promise before sprinting off after the little tike. You can hear the fading sobbing of the guy complaining about the failure, as well attempting to assert his “grown-up status” to the child that ambled on like he had mentally tuned-out his chaser.

What a weird family, you’d probably think to yourself, left to ponder this odd encounter later as you sorted through the produce section.

a/n:

omg I posted writing for my tumblr againn 😛 Gojo adopts the Geto walk in the drabble uhhhh because I said so

Jokes aside I would absolutely cry if I received a creative insult from a child 😔

based off this request on a diff platform that I thought would do better as a minific 🤍

Have a wonderful day/night

[echantedtoon]

Let's Summon An Oni! Part 2 Mine

(Hey everyone. I just wanted to thank everyone who read this far and liked my story enough to read it to it's end. I had a lot of fun writing it and it makes me happy knowing some people loved it enough to read it fully. If you liked this consider checking out my other works. Thanks to everyone for reading this, faving it, or leaving a nice comment. And thank you to Koyoharu Gotouge for creating such wonderful characters and giving me the opportunity to make this wonderful story.

Warnings for yandere themes, someone gets wounded real bad by slashes. )

Taglist: @lavenderdrxp

The next morning arrived but you could find no ring.

Your friends had helped you clean up the mess off your floor come morning and you all practically tore apart your room trying to find your great grandfather's engagement ring while your great grandmother's was ...around your ring finger? You could've sworn that you had left it in the jewelry box last night but woke up the next morning with it on your right hand...You must've put it on your finger last night and remembered wrong during your worry and sleep deprivation. However despite moving the bed and shuffling around everything enough to rearrange your entire house five times- There was no signs of any stupid rings.

"Don't worry about it, Y/n," one of your friends had assured you with a pat on the back. "It'll turn up when you least expect it. Things always do."

Maybe she had a point. Things did seem to turn up when you least expect them but that didn't mean you weren't upset with it! And your room still smelt like a hundred bath bombs went off in it. It annoyed you to know end but there was little you could do about it. After all there was the fact that you had to go work and attend the nearby college classes so you pushed your troubles to the back of your mind and tried to focus on the project in front of you at the moment. Papers shuffled in your hands and a nervous smile on your face.

"Ok. So I'll write the essay part, you make the 3D model, and then we'll both present it Friday?"

The man next to you nodded and hummed in approval. "Seems good to me. "

"R-Right..*ahem*." You nervously pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "Ah anyways..Are you busy tomorrow?"

He rose a brow at you from the sofa. "Yeah actually. Why?"

"I was thinking maybe w-we could see a movie? Or maybe coffee-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" His hands were held up all of a sudden. "Look. You're very nice but I don't roll like that."

You blinked. "Huh? Like what?"

"I'm not a cheater!"

"Oh! Y-You have a girlfriend?"

"Uh- No. But I'm going to be putting up with any drama from your boyfriend." 

His hand pointed right at your neck or more specifically your necklace and when you looked- You froze. Your great grandfather's ring was out again but this time it was slung around the necklace you wore every day along with the cute little charm your necklace usually had. Your mouth dropped open looking at it then at him..a hand reached out to rub over your necklace, more specifically the ring again. 

"I-..I D-don't know where this ca-came from?!"

"Yeah right!" He abruptly stood up making the sofa move with his movements. "Do I look stupid to you? I'm not about to become a chick's side piece because you think I'm cute, and if your boyfriend has any sense he'd dump you too. Don't talk to me again unless it's about the project!"

He turned and started stomping towards the door. Papers fluttered to the floor as you stood up and held out your hands towards him. 

"W-Wait! I really don't know how this got there!'

He didn't listen. You winced as the door slammed behind his retreating form shaking the foundation of your home ... Before you looked back to the ring on your necklace again. It was your great grandfather's ring alright. Complete with a diamond in the middle. But how did it end up on your necklace? You threw it back into the jewelry box three days ago and you didn't put it on your necklace. The only logical answer you could think of is that you must've put it there but forgotten about it (even though you KNEW that you didn't) or it must've gotten entangled on the necklace inside the jewelry box and you didn't notice when you put it on the necklace. You never noticed the reflection of a man in the mirror watching your lab partner leave or how he also left the reflection after him.

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

The quietness of the study was unbroken as the man silently studied along the table. The silence was only filled by the ticking of the clock behind him and the crackling of the fire in the fireplace that filled the study with warmth. The light danced across the shadows and lit up the place in the dark. It was a rather cozy room with many shelves of books, comfy chairs, and the table with a giant map sprawled upon it. Yes. His father would be pleased with the surveillance work he made of the new farmland he purchased. They should be able to divide it enough for the blueprints for the many houses. Renting the houses out to people would certainly bring plenty of money he could use to help pay off his student loans. A yawn escaped from his throat as hands reached up to remove the glasses before a hand ran over his face. It was getting late. A hard day's work deserved a good rest. The man stood leaving the comfort of his warm study before walking away to exit into a hallway. It wasn't too hard to find his bed inside his bedroom. With a small action of placing his glasses on a nearby table, his body curled up inside the bed cozy and warm.

But not safe.

Shadows moved. Elongated alongside the wall. Red eyes narrowed. An arm extended itself out.

" Looking so peaceful in slumber. Not a care in the world...I wonder what hellish escapades you'll have within a world of nightmares." 

The elongated form of claws reached out from the hand extending out towards the slumbering form. 

"A fitting vengeance for an intruding obstacle. Let's make you fear ever speaking with a certain person ever again. You'll learn not to disrespect my once even in your thoughts nce I'm done with you."

A fingertip pressed against the soft skin of the man's forehead. Manic rising as the brows furrowed more and more. And soon his mouth opened up as eyes shrunk at a shadowed figure. And a scream shrieked out.

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

"Did you hear about Sabo?"

The clanking and clacking of lockers shut around you before you looked up at your friend who looked concerned at you. 

"Huh? What was that?"

Her brow rose annoyed and a hand placed itself on her hip. "Didn't you hear a word I said?"

"S-Sorry. I've been... distracted by work lately."

That was an understatement. You kept waking up with the ring on your body in one way or another. Two days ago you decided that you were overacting about the ring after your lab partner left you stranded and to ensure that you didn't lose another ring, you put a combination lock on the jewelry box after you chucked the ring back in. Now you couldn't misplace it again. However you were exhausted when you went to work and accidentally fell asleep at the cash register only to be startled awake by a customer shaking your shoulders. You rang him up as usual feeling a bit out of it, however you nearly had a mental break down when you once again found a golden band on your finger.

You practically tore the lock off fiddling with the numbers and dumping the entire thing out, and finding no ring inside. You KNOW you put it back! You KNOW that you locked it up right! You KNOW that only YOU know the combination! And you KNOW that it was still locked when you came back!! So how the hell did it get out of the box and on your ring at work?!

There was only one explanation.

You were being haunted! Your great grandparents must be angry at you for losing the other ring! You didn't believe in anything supernatural at all but this was the only thing you could think of that made even remotely sense. You knew you weren't crazy so what else could it be? However you hadn't told anyone yet. Then they'd think you were REALLY crazy! The stress was getting you to space out in front of your gym locker and made your friend groan.

"I can see that. Did you hear about Sabo at all?"

You shook your head. "Not sense three days ago. He didn't answer any of my texts and the project was due TODAY and only the essay was ready! I had to stay up all last night and finish it!"

You had to quickly slap together a 3D model online as accurately as you could and just present the entire thing yourself because he didn't even bother showing up to class! You just hoped it was just good enough for a C or B. 

"I don't know what he thinks he's doing ghosting me like!"

"Probably because he walked himself into the hospital."

You paused before looking at her. "What?!"

"Some kind of wild animal broke into his house a couple nights ago and really tore into him. They had to take him to the hospital and they haven't found what did it get. At least that's what I heard. "

"Oh my God. Is he ok?"

"Dunno. I'm only telling you what I heard and from what I did, he was barely alive when they found him the next morning."

That was terrible! But also why you never slept with the windows open. You felt bad about Sabo but hopefully you can get the both of you a decent grade for the project. 

However you didn't know the bigger problem awaiting at home just for you.

You were so worried about the ring and tired from not getting any sleep last night that you didn't even consider anything else was wrong. You stopped by the grocery store on the way home and just barely was able to balance three paper bags in your arms and unlock the door. Pushing it in and then closing it behind you. Tired eyes just passing by the living room and crossing into the kitchen.

You passed by a man sitting on your comfortable fluffy rug and reading a book from your shelf. Clink- A small teacup clinked as he gently took a sip before he gently placed it back down and started reading the next page as if the woman didn't walk past him. 

"Good evening, Dear."

"Hi." Your tired brain automatically responded without a thought as you placed the bags on the table.

"What are you cooking for dinner?"

"Tonkatsu and rice." Again you responded automatically just tiredly reaching into bags and setting things up on the table.

"Ah. A simple but delicious dish. I haven't had that since a man left it on my shrine fifty years ago for an offering."

"Uh huh."

You passed by the doorway towards the stove with a package of uncooked rice. Step. Step. Ste-....Tired eyes suddenly blinked open wide nearly bugging out of her skull...Feet slowly turned around and walked back towards the doorway. Step. Step. Step. Half her body leaned back out of the doorway...Thud. A bag of rice fell from her hands and fell to the floor with a loud thud seeing the figure of a VERY tall man sitting on the floor of her living room in a meditative state, one hand holding a murder mystery novel as the other gently lifted the teacup back to his face which was mostly obscured by long burgundy bangs. 

You stared staring like one of those comically large eyed cartoon characters. 

A long sip was calmly given before he spoke again. "You dropped the rice."

"W-WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!" You were wide awake now. Panic setting in from the sudden realization that there was a STRANGER IN YOUR HOUSE!! "H-HOW DID YOU GET INTO M-MY HOUSE?! DID YOU BREAK IN!?"

"Spouses share an abode. Cease your loud voice. It's unbecoming."

"Wha- L-LOOK! I-I don't know w-w-who you think you are-" Your hand fumbled badly for the phone in your pocket. "-b-b-b-but you better leave O-Or I'm calling the police!!" You made a threatening gesture by holding up your phone in a badly shaking hand. 

"Even if you do, they will not see me unless I want them to. Now put down that ridiculous object." 

"I'm warning you! I-I will!"

"Really? With what?"

"With my-"

You froze. Eyes going small as ashes fell from your hand that was holding a phone just two seconds ago, and instead a new shiny ring was again snugly sat on your finger. You jaw fell open.

"That's better. You'd better stop taking it off. It's tiring to keep putting it back."

You started breathing heavier head turning back to him. Fear slammed into your vertebrate like a railroad spike being hammered into the ground. "W-Who..are you?"

"Every human asks me that but I don't see why you shouldn't know who I am, considering that you were the one that summoned me and proposed."

"P-P-Proposed?!" The book closed with a sound and his hand tilted towards you. It was then that you saw the dazzling gleam of a shiny golden band on his finger. You knew what it was instantly. "My great grandfather's ring." Your eyes then narrowed again as you pointed. "THAT'S MINE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH IT, THIEF!?"

"Thief? Hardly. It was presented to me when you proposed fourteen days ago." He slowly stood from where he sat and you suddenly realized how small you were compared to him. "You asked me to become your husband and I accepted your offer. Was that not your intention when you summoned me that night?"

"Summoned? What do you-..."

You fell silent as his head turned. Burgundy hair framed a face as six pairs of eyes stared down at you. Lungs heave. Panic swam. Senses heightened as you rushed to turn around only to scream out as the face was now standing in the kitchen inches away from your trembling form. A clawed fist clamping itself around your forearm like a hot iron ensnaring you frozen to the spot. The silence carried on as you both still stared as your face horrified, and then a clawed hand held up a shiny golden band around his ring finger. 

"I accepted and now we are bound in matrimony, My Little Wife."

"W-Who are you?!"

"I go by many names. Your people still revere me as Moon God, while others of the past called me Demon. You may call me by my true name. Michikatsu." Those beautiful eyes widened even more, especially when a hand reached out to tilt her chin back up to him, the feeling of his claws making her shiver under his careful grasp. "Or as Husband. I have decided that I accept this coupling."

Your hyperventilating lungs breathed- GASPED for air. Lips. Trembled. Body shook. Tears welding up. "I-I.. Can't accept."

"I'm afraid you have no choice but to honor those vows because now-" The Ring burnt again your flesh like a clamp, death sentence for your new fate. "..Not even death will do us part." 

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

What the Jackass Cast Would Get You for Christmas!

Bam Margera X Fem!Reader, Ryan Dunn X Fem!Reader, Steve-O X Fem!Reader, Chris Pontius X Fem!Reader, Johnny Knoxville X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Highly suggestive content, boudoir photo shoots, drug paraphernalia, lingerie, lube

An: Thank you for sending in all your requests! I hope you’re having a fun holiday season :)

Bam

“Oh shit…” Bam checked his calendar and realized it was one week until Christmas.

He also realized he had nothing to give you (only after April asked him what he was getting for you).

Hightailing it over to King of Prussia mall, he started perusing stores you mentioned you liked,

Which quickly turned into him going to stores he liked.

After spending two hours at the record store, Hot Topic, and Spencer’s buying himself gifts, Bam got an idea for something he knew you’d love!

“Oh! It’s…” Unwrapping the ornately framed picture while your boyfriend sat watching your expression eagerly, a bemused smile spread across your face, “It’s you!”

It was him; half naked on a fur rug, in some gothic midevily, faux-Playgirl shoot. I mean, it was hot, but still…

Admiring his own boudoir shots, he grinned,

“Yeah! See, y’can put it on your nightstand, and when you’re feelin’ a little frisky at night…”

Turning it over in your hands, two slips of paper tucked in the back fluttered down to your lap

“And…H.I.M concert tickets?”

As predictably Bam this was, you still couldn’t bade off your smile of amusement at his self centeredness.

I mean, you liked his gifts, don’t get me wrong- but your boyfriend liked them a while lot more!

You would’ve thought it was him receiving that gift with his he animatedly described it: “Yeah! They’re only, like- the best band ever!” He laughed before leaning to coo in your ear,

“You have such a good boyfriend…”

Ryan

“Can’y pick me up somethin’ for my girl while you’re there?” He stopped his sister as she was halfway out the door on the way to the mall.

Frankly, he didn’t know what women like to receive as gifts, so who better to ask than an actual woman?

“Does she like perfume? Or-“ Ryan gestured to nothing in particular, “I dunno, what about that jewelry stuff?”

Deadpanning, she replied, “You gave me two hundred bucks.” “C’mon, be cool! I’m sure you can find something. Oh, and get it gift wrapped. I owe you big time!”

Of course, said sister had no clue what you wanted- she’d never met you!

On Christmas morning, he was just as surprised as you to see that little Pandora bracelet charm. “It’s nice! You like it?” He tried to play it cool,

“It’s from the jewelry store!” Like you couldnt tell…

Turning over the little sparkly heart charm, you smiled to yourself, “Yeah, I love it!“

He told you some cheesy line about you taking his heart wherever you went before you gently added,

“Ryan. I don’t have a charm bracelet…”

Panicking a moment, he thought quick,

“Oh! Well, now I know what I’m getting you for your birthday!”

Steve-O

“Goddamn it…!” Steve was kicking himself- he was supposed to go to your house tonight! Unlike the other guys, it wasn’t that he forgot-

He just couldn’t afford the kinda fancy gifts he knew you deserved.

So, he went about tearing apart his shithole apartment to find something, anything you would maybe like.

Lifting up pizza boxes, throwing open every cabinet and drawer, he scoured that place top to bottom,

“Yeah- that’s it! Chicks love that stuff! Oh- and I’ll give her that too! Now, how m’i gonna wrap this shit…”

When he showed up at your doorstep, he thought he was being all slick handing over that plain, brown grocery store bag all fast

“A candle!” You rubbed the particles that clung to the wax between your fingers, “It’s dusty…”

“Ah, that’s vanilla! Totally normal…”

Steve panicked a little inside. Chicks like candles, right? And- and flowers?

Sure, he didn’t get you flowers, but he called it a vase. The thing was was obviously a bong with little glass flowers running up the sides. You didn’t smoke.

“And I bought you a vase!” Your boyfriend tried to explain, gesturing to the object as it sat in your hands, “See- it’s gotta special spout to refill the water.”

He quickly added, “And- I’m gonna get you flowers to put in that vase! You love it, right?”

Puckering up, Steve leaned in close for a kiss, but you just laughed and shook your head-

You knew he was broke! By extension, you didn’t expect a whole lot in terms of gifts, but the effort was endearing…

“Alright, Romeo…”

Chris

“Is there anything in particular you’re looking for, sir?” The attendant at the third lingerie store he visited half-flirted, eyeing Chris as he inspected a lacy, white set

“Yeah- do you have this in an extra large? And what about these shoes in a fourteen?”

The bonus adult novelties he gave you along with your gift did bring an entertained, kinda confused smile to your face, “Flavored lube?”

Chris winked, looking over your shoulder, “Yeah, hope you like watermelon…”

But quickly after, your boyfriend was nudging you off towards the bathroom,

“Hurry, go put yours on! This present isn’t over yet…”

Yours? Not questioning, you just shook your head and went along with it

When you returned, you quickly figured out what he meant as Chris grasped the thighs of his track pants and, with a flourish, tore them off!

“Check it out! His and Her’s sets!”

Doubling over, it took you five minutes to catch your breath because every time you righted yourself, there was your boyfriend, standing in your living room in ladies lingerie and heels.

And totally pulling it off.

Interrupting his mental debate over weather or not he should do a ‘well, one of us has to change!’ joke, you slung an arm around him for stability and uttered between gasps,

“God- this is why I love you…”

Johnny

“Alright- keep your eyes closed!” Johnny’s excited smirk was infectious as ever as he dashed off into the other room, leaving you to wait in anticipation

But once he placed whatever it was he was giving you in your lap, you could’ve sworn you felt some brush agaisnt your face.

No, lick.

“Aah!!” Opening your eyes, you squealed, “Oh my god- oh my god!”

Let’s be honest, who wouldn’t react like that to being given a puppy? So yeah, you cried, but only a little, okay?

Suddenly, in the middle of all this excitement, a flash of something else crossed your face as you realized, “Johnny. My apartment doesn’t allow dogs…”

But in a moment of quick wittedness, he came up with a a solution,

“Well, I’ll just keep ‘im at my house! You’ll have have t’spend more time there with me- oh, and the puppy…”

Truth be told, Johnny really wanted the dog. He also liked having more excuses to invite you over- think of it as taking your relationship to another level!

Giggling, your threw your arms around Johnny, “Ahh!! You’re the best boyfriend ever!”

Ruffling your hair, your boyfriend smiled, “Its just a puppy!” Yeah, just a puppy…

“Now, what’re you gonna name the little guy?”

[lanawrx]

Modern! Tanjiro Kamado with a Street Racer Partner

a/n: I love Initial D and KNY so bad, ugh.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆

Tanjiro was your biggest supporter, and it showed in every way. No matter how late it was, no matter how far the race, Tanjiro was always there, cheering you on with a smile that could light up the darkest night.

Every time you had a race, Tanjiro would drag Inosuke and Zenitsu along with him.

"Why do we always have to come to these races?!" Zenitsu would wail, clutching his head as the sound of engines roared in the background.

"Shut up, Monitsu!" Inosuke would bark back. "Racing is awesome! She's gonna destroy all of them!"

Tanjiro would show up early, always making sure you had everything you needed. He’d check the car, help you get settled, and give you one of those warm, confident smiles that made your heart race even more than the thought of the competition.

Right before each race began, he'd never fail to give you a good luck kiss or two, as a charm to make sure you'd be safe.

People from the crowd would wolf-whistle and cheer, causing the two of you to blush. Tanjiro would quickly scramble to the guardrails, joining his friends and trying to hide his red face with the darkness from the trees.

When the race started, you could always hear his voice above everyone else's, shouting your name, telling you to keep going, to give it your all. He had this unwavering belief in you, and it pushed you to do your best every single time.

After every race, the adrenaline still pumping through your veins, you'd return to the top of the pass, only to be greeted by Tanjiro's bright smile and the sound of his footsteps running toward you. He’d be practically glowing with pride, his eyes wide with admiration.

“You did it!” Tanjiro would say, pulling you into a tight hug. “I knew you could do it! You were incredible out there.”

You’d smile back, your heart swelling at his praise. No matter how tough the race had been, knowing Tanjiro believed in you made it all worthwhile. Inosuke would stomp over next, probably yelling something about how he knew you’d win because you were as tough as him, while Zenitsu trailed behind, looking relieved that the race was over.

When the adrenaline had faded and it was just you and Tanjiro under the stars, were some of the most precious. He’d take your hand, his fingers warm and gentle against yours, and he’d smile that soft, earnest smile that always made your heart skip a beat.

You didn't understand how you got so lucky to have a partner like Tanjiro. Handsome, kind, and utterly supportive of your hobbies.

Normally, guys would be scared off by your skills. Many times, you'd be dumped over their fears of having a chick who can race better than they ever could. You wondered if you should just quit racing altogether, maybe then you'd secure a longtime relationship.

That all changed when you met Tanjiro.

He was different from anyone you’d ever known. While others saw your passion for racing as intimidating or too much to handle, Tanjiro saw it as something beautiful, something that made you shine even brighter in his eyes. He wasn’t scared off by your skills—if anything, he was inspired by them.

You’d never forget the first time he watched you drive with your all. The way his eyes lit up as he watched you take the wheel, the admiration and pride written all over his face. He wasn’t just impressed by your talent; he was in awe of your determination, your drive, the way you never gave up even when the competition was fierce.

After that first race, he came up to you, his smile as bright as the moon above. “You’re amazing,” he’d said, and you could tell he meant every word. “I’ve never seen anything like it. You’re so strong, so talented—I’m really lucky to know you.”

You’d laughed, a little embarrassed by his praise, but his sincerity was undeniable.

And from that moment on, he never missed a race. No matter how late, no matter how far, Tanjiro was always there, cheering you on, believing in you when others doubted.

Under those stars, with his hand in yours, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace and gratitude. You had found someone who loved you, not despite your passion but because of it. Someone who saw your strength and was proud of it.

“You make me feel like I can do anything,” you whispered, looking up at him.

Tanjiro squeezed your hand, his eyes full of warmth. “That’s because you can,” he said softly. “And I’ll always be here, right by your side, cheering you on.”

In that moment, you knew you didn’t have to give up racing—or any part of yourself—to find love. With Tanjiro, you had everything you needed.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡ Thanks for Reading! ˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆

[thewandererh]

bOO‼️

@if-you-heart @if-you-mind @if-you-soul

told heart this but i drew fanart of ya’ll’s sweet angular soul guy :]! i couldn’t not…look at his dumb face…..🥺

i have two versions because the lighting experiment came out ok-ish. t was originally blue (because it was coming from the left side lmao) but red looks better 🤷

it’s a little simple and the composition is messy, but it was a good stress relief + shading practice :D! im proud of it. i’ll definitely draw him (and the gang) more though if i can!! been getting better with hair recently and tested out my skills with this one :]. styling and keeping consistent with hair is tough, but oddly relaxing. did some lineart in the car somehow 👀??

he looks like such a,,,bro i can’t….. i love how stupidly spindly he is

i was attached to this stupid lanky fictional(???) man the *moment* i saw this post. absolutely bonkers. i was so charmed by this concept i shared it to all of my friends you don’t understandjshdkdhdgsgd /silly /but yeah i did do that XD

also you fazgang have been reblogging and liking my stuff 🐥 <- looks up at you like this chick

which,,,,thankie,,…🐥🐥😳💛✨

.-.

for you onlookers have some more posts by the fazgang (what the if-you-hms-gang call themselves) to gaze upon. you will not regret,,

.-.

i’ve noticed a trend that i often tend to write big paragraphs about a simple piece of art i’ve made, which is okay but i get the lack of interaction lol. im very proud of my art, and go on rambles on why i like it. the formatting i turn to aswell as the text and images almost turns the post into a collage? visually?? i love collages so it works out XD! but anyways,, im not upset over notes, i just like getting my art out there. so thank you to everyone whose viewed, read, liked, and followed for the ride :]. im glad you appreciate my stuff, it’s what i can offer <3. it won’t be consistently one fandom but im glad to not be alone in my interests. good god that sounded like a traumatized rant (maybe it was but:)

TLDR: check out if-you-heart/mind/soul :]! they are very cool and nice💛

[brains4brawn]

Journalled

It was a small thing, tucked away in the corner of the thrift shop. Victor had pulled it out, but the book was locked and bound in gold and wouldn't open. His mind piqued, Victor bought the book and took it home. Over the next week He tried everything to undo the clasp but nothing worked. When he had just lost hope a tiny but audible Click could be heard, Victor rushed back to find the clasp undone and the bindings slightly ajar.

Victor carefully opened the ancient tome only to find that the pages were stuck. it was like they had been glued! Only the last page remained free. Written towards the top if fancy handwriting

"Write it down so i can enact Be-warned Though, What is written I can not retract!"

Under neath that was 5 evenly spaced lines. and another message at the bottom,

"I only remain open for this 1 day Until 5 complete Earth circle's will I open again"

Looking at the the 3 blank lines, And thinking this must be a joke he wrote

I will graduate from college

My older brother will never pick on me again

Over the next 20 years I will gain 150lbs

As Victor finished the book slammed shut and relocked itself. Scared Victor threw the book into his closet and ran down stairs.

That night his family recieved word that Victor's older brother was in a bad car crash. He was alive but in the ICU and had lost his legs. Certainly the taller brother would never pick on the shorter Victor again.

The crash had been the fault of the manufacturer so the family received and huge settlement. This money paid for Victor's choice of college.

Two years later, when Victor was home from college for the summer and his mother commented that he was finally starting to get bigger.

The 20 Year old checked the scale and sure enough he weighed 140, 15lbs heaver then when he was 18. Victor knew it had to be the book.

Victor: 22, 155lbs

The College graduate was now 23 and moving all of his stuff from his half of the bedroom to his first apartment when he stumbled across the book. Looking at the date on the wall Victor realized it was exactly 5 years since he had last seen the cursed object. As if it had a mind of its own the book opened to the last page, now with three new empty lines waiting to be filled.

Victor hesitated, he had imagined for the last 5 years what he'd do if he had this chance again. He could fix everything!

My older brother James develops a prosthesis so he can walk and run again.

My younger sisters will grow into smart talented women who will want for nothing.

Looking at his tiny 15 year old brother Bastion asleep on the bed Victor writes:

Bastion will grow up to be the popular jock just like his older brother.

Satisfied, the book shuts itself and prepares to grant Victor's wish.

Victor 24, 170lbs

For the most part the Wishes went like Victor planned. Well except for Bastion's. In the proceeding months after writing those words Victor found himself becoming more popular and Jock-like. Words like Bro or Bruh, dude, man, had taken over. He joined a gym and from there joined some local sports teams. When he wasn't busy at work or working out Victor could be found screwing every chick he could find. No girl was immune to his baby faced charms and his Gym sculpted body.

Victor 26 185lbs

Victor 28 200lbs

Victor practically lives in the Gym now. His gains speak for themselves his body is a temple and he loves for chicks to worship him. His younger sisters call him a man whore, while Bastion is turning out just like him.

His girlfriend of 6 months broke up with him cause she caught him in bed with her mother.

Looking in his closet he stumbles over the Book, open and waiting for him to write something down.

In his jealousy of those gay guys who can sleep with anyone he wrote:

I'm like 100% gay, no chicks only dicks.

I wont get any STD's from sex.

Sex with me will change anyone's life.

Again the book closes and gets to work.

Victor 30, 215lbs

Vic the dick had been out for 2 years now, the book took the man whore and turned him into a man slut. Everyone wanted a piece of him and at least Vic was smart enough to charge them for his services. Every option on the table is open he'd do any guy and make them feel like his number1. Every guy he slept with changed, most upped their stamina but some hunked out into gay sluts just like Vic.

Hell even Bastion had come out and if the rumors are true he's slept with every guy at his college.

Vic 32 230lbs

Vic was becoming something of a local celebrity in the gay community. His looks had caught the eye of a movie producer and now he was staring in low budget action movies as the gay savior. He had been so busy that he wasn't home for his 33rd birthday. Some how the book found him on location in the bottom of his travel bag.

Vic watched as it opened up to the last page with 3 empty spaces.

He took his time and pondered over what he should write.

I want to find true love

I want to be content

I want to be smart again

The book seemed to close with a sigh. None of these were worth the trouble of granting. But a deal is a deal.

Vic 34, 245lbs

Vic, 38, 275lbs

Finally after 20 years, Vic had stopped growing. Life had settled down for the Gay icon, nowadays, he owned a successful chain of LGBTQIA Gyms that catered towards the community needs. He organized Pride events and helped with protests when needed. He looked at the open book on his desk. It was tempting but Vic no longer wanted to change anything about his life. Even though he had never found a lifelong partner.

He decided he had held on to the magic for to long, so he summoned his newest intern Jack and gave the book to him then let him leave so he could explore this newest acquisition.

*bright flash of Light*

The intercom beeps and Vic pushes the button.

"Sir your husband just arrived to collect you. He wants to remind you that you still have to pick up the kids and get changed for tonights ceremony"

Before he could even answer the door burst open and Vic's husband of 7 years strolled in. Vic was already out of his chair and giving Jack a pec on the cheek while grabbing his toned ass.

On his way out Vic glanced at the family photo on his desk and gave a silent thanks to the book.

[bobafetts-princess]

Good Luck Charms

Months 7-12

Summary: After things have become a touch less frosty between you and Detective Magalon, you find that you actually like the man quite a bit. Maybe more than you bargained for.

Pairings: Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.5K

Warnings: cursing, canon-typical sexism, mentions of substance issues (pain meds), someone gets shot.

A/N: This is slow burnnnnnnnnnnn

Months 1-6 can be found here!

MONTH 7

Month 7 is when things change.

It’s a raid. You’ve all been on one before but never together and the guys have never seen you this dressed down. They’ve only ever seen you in work clothes; pencil skirts and jackets, power suits, wrap dresses, slacks and silk blouses. You never have a hair out of place, it’s always styled with the perfect work makeup.

But today your hair is braided, you’ve got on jeans and a pink button down and brown boots, with a bulletproof vest over the top. Not an ounce of makeup. It’s a different side of you and the guys don’t know what to make of it.

“Fed? Is that you?”

“What’ve you done with the chick that comes to the office every day?”

“Well damn I didn’t know you owned a pair of jeans!”

You roll your eyes at all of them, flipping them the bird which makes them cackle. Detective Magalon doesn’t say anything, but it doesn’t bother you.

Really. It doesn’t.

But the raid goes sideways, only a little. One of the ATF guys doesn’t clear a room completely and you get shot.

Well, not really shot. More like grazed. It rips a hole in arm of your shirt and slices you deep enough that you think you’ll need stitches, but you’re alive and that’s the important part. You’re just lucky it was your non-dominant arm so you can still pull the trigger.

Detective Magalon takes the guy down and checks on you, but you wave him off. It’s not the first time you’ve been shot and in your line of work? It won’t be the last either.

“I’m fine. Finish the raid. Suspect is in the center,” you yell over the sound of gunfire. Big Nick finds him and tackles him down, wrestling with the gun and managing to get it away from him. You’re next in, jumping on the suspects back and getting cuffs on him before he has a chance to get away.

You’re running on pure adrenaline and haul the suspect up, it’s the head of cocaine sect of the organization. Catching him alive was the number 1 priority of this mission and you and Detective Magalon (with the help of his team) have succeeded. You shove him out, handing him off to Mike to be booked and turn, looking to the team. They’re exchanging high fives and cheers and Detective Magalon smiles at you. Henderson comes to high five you and you raise your arm to give him one back. You’re smiling and relieved until a shot of pain goes through your arm and you have to drop it.

Benny knows you got shot. He was there when you jerked, grabbed the spot and yelled at him to keep going. He knows you got shot even though you cuffed the suspect and marched him out. He really knows you got shot though when you move to give Henderson a high five and gasp in pain. Medical doesn’t arrive quick enough (in his opinion, at least) but they end up patching you up. They’ve gotta strip you out of that pretty pink button up, leaving you in a white undershirt and jeans as they give you stitches in the back of an ambulance. Benny notices a tattoo along your collarbone that he hadn’t seen before and he wants to get a closer look.

“You good?” He asks, stepping over after being checked himself. You glance up at him and Benny is surprised to see a light dancing in your eyes, the after-effects of an adrenaline rush no doubt. The guys are behind him, checking in on you at the same time he is. He catches some words and a date, something he definitely can’t see when you wear your buttoned up power suits and those fucking pencil skirts.

“I’m good, Detective,” your eyes are flicking between them all and you turn your body, wincing slightly as the needle punctures skin and he reads what the ink says. ‘How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard’. Benny wonders if it’s about an ex but shakes the thought away before it can take root. Why would you get a tattoo about an ex anyways? Stupid thought. But then you’re speaking again, drawing Benny’s attention. “It’s not the first time I’ve been shot. At least this one didn’t require surgery.” You quip and Benny’s eyebrows raise at the insinuation. He knows the group chat is gonna blow up about this little insight into your life in a while and Benny already wants to put his phone on mute.

************

MONTH 8

With month 8 comes…..coffee? You’ve found this little hole in the wall place by your government issued apartment that serves fantastic coffee. They open at 5:30 in the morning, so when you get there at 5:45, the coffee is hot and fresh. They know you by first name at this point and know what time you come by in the morning. It’s easier than making drip coffee and it tastes better too.

Well one morning your alarm doesn’t go off. Or you shut it off. Or you sleep through it. You’re not really sure what happens. But you do know when you open your eyes and check the clock and see 7:30, you’re flying out of bed. You dress and clean up in record time and are out the door by 8:15, to your coffee shop by 8:20 and ordered before 8:25.

It’s 8:45 before you get a coffee in hand.

“I’m so sorry honey!” Shouts the owner, a stunning woman in her late 60’s. “One of my girls has the flu and one of our coffee machines broke!”

“It’s okay Mrs. Akron,” you assure her but god you are so late. You’re never late. Ever.

“Here darling,” she says, out of breath and frazzled. “Take a large black coffee, on me!” She thrusts your caramel macchiato at you as well as the large black. You start to protest but she won’t let you. “I insist! You’re running late and probably overslept, so you might need an afternoon boost. Take it,” she says, closing your hand around the cup. You nod at her, stopping to stuff a $50 in the tip jar before you make it to work. You roll in at 9:00, three hours late. The entire office whips their heads up and watches you walk in but you refuse to let it bother you.

“You good?” Detective Magalon asks and doesn’t press when you nod.

“Do you drink black coffee?” You ask before you lose the nerve. He’s bought you so much food, the least you can do is give him your extra coffee. “My coffee shop gave me an extra and….” You trail off, setting the coffee on his desk and taking a seat without an answer.

“Thanks.”

You simply nod but a couple times a week you bring him a large black coffee.

*************

MONTHS 9&10

Months nine and ten brings a trial and it’s a long trial. The examination and cross examination and evidence and witnesses take nearly 6 weeks. You and Detective Magalon spend nearly every waking hour together, working with the district attorney to make sure all goes the way it should.

You’re both emotionally, mentally, and physically drained and by the time the jury is sent off to make their own decision, you feel like you can nap for hours.

In fact, you do.

The couch in the district attorney’s office is so dammed comfortable and you’re sitting next to Detective Magalon, whose body is just radiating heat. You’d both just finished testifying, his took 3 hours and yours took 4. You’re silent next to each other, too drained from all the information you had to recall and all the talking.

The next thing you know, you wake up. Your head is resting against Detective Magalon’s shoulder and you might (you’ll deny if anyone asks) have drooled on his shoulder. You push off him and get some distance between your bodies.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry. This case has taken it out of me. How long did I sleep?”

“Three hours.” He says, clicking his phone shut and looking at you.

“Oh my fucking god, you’re kidding? I’m so sorry,” you tell him but he waves you off.

“It’s been a long trial. I don’t blame you for being tired,” he says, standing. You hear his knees crack when he does and see a wince of pain cross his face as he makes his way to the restroom.

Oh my god, he let you sleep even though he had to piss? There’s no way you’re unpacking that right now.

Benny never tells you that he fell asleep too.

When the verdict comes back a few weeks later and the suspect is found guilty as sin, you celebrate. It’s only one person, only one head of the hydra you’re dealing with, but it’s something.

The guys get a couple packs of beer and one Friday after work, you drink together.

“Fed! You have to hang with us for a little while. You just had your first successful trial with us,” Connors insists and you agree to stay.

“One beer!” You tell them and they laugh and wave you off. It’s the first time you’ve ever drank with them and you’re so damn careful not to overdo it. They shoot the shit, swapping stories and peppering you with questions you refuse to answer.

“Still no boyfriend?”

“Is it hard working around such attractive dudes all the time?”

“Ever smoked weed? Does smoking disqualify you from being a fed?”

“You seem like the type to own a cat”

“Got a hot sister?”

Benny notices the last one makes you wince and he wonders why. Then he tells himself that it’s none of his business. But then he thinks of your tattoo and he can’t help but try to put the pieces together.

“Even if I did I wouldn’t tell you.”

“I wouldn’t know, all y’all are ugly.”

“No it doesn’t disqualify you.”

“That’s a weird statement.”

You swallow hard before you answer the last one.

“Doesn’t matter if I do, none of you are meeting her.”

Benny can see you’re uncomfortable and he doesn’t want the guys to latch on. So he takes the reins of the conversation, asking Big Nick about his latest divorce. Of course he launches into a huge speech about how it’s not his fault that he likes pussy so much and blah blah blah.

Benny shoots you a glance and notices you looking at him. You give him a small nod and raise your bottle in thanks.

At least, Benny thinks it’s in thanks.

********

MONTH 11

Month 11 earns you a nickname.

It’s another raid. Another head of the hydra that you’re looking for. You wear basically the same outfit, only this time the button down is army green instead of soft pink.

“You ready?” Magalon asks you, standing next to you and you wonder if he’s thinking of the last raid where you got shot. He’s wearing a long-sleeved black shirt with a grey LASD beanie over his hair. He hasn’t shaved in a few days and you see the strong salt-and-pepper there. It makes you twitch, low in your belly and wonder if he has-Jesus. A raid. You’re wearing a goddamned bulletproof vest and are getting ready to charge into a building where you might potentially get shot. Tamp that shit down.

“Yeah. I don’t think anyone is ever fully ready but I’m as ready as I can be,” you tell him, twisting your neck to look up at him.

“Try not to get shot this time,” he chuckles, looking at you. You nod, smiling as well and promising to do your best.

You get shot.

You actually get fucking shot.

It happens in a flash, one second the LAPD is declaring the room and by extension the building clear. The next second, you’re on the ground absolutely gasping for air.

“What the fuck?” Connors yells, pointing his gun that direction as Magalon covers your body with his own.

“You’re like a fucking magnet for bullets,” Magalon grumbles at you, grabbing you by the shoulder straps and moving to haul you out.

“Stop,” you gasp. “I’m fine, got the wind knocked out of me,” you tell him, pushing him off. The last thing you need is him getting shot in the back because he’s worried about you. “Get the suspect,” you tell him, pushing him off and finding cover behind a couple barrels off to your left. There’s a few more shots and a small shout of pain, hopefully from someone that isn’t on your side, before everything stops.

The barrels are moved out of the way and your gun flies up before you see who it is. Magalon. You never thought you’d be so happy to see him. “He’s cuffed. Connors shot him in the shoulder too but he’ll be fine. Unfortunately. Come on, you need a hospital,”

“No. No hospital. I’m fine,” you insist.

“Bullshit. Can you walk or do I need to carry you?”

“I’m fine. Seriously.”

“I guess I’m carrying you,” he says, handing his gun to Big Nick and moving to take off his own bulletproof vest.

“Damnit, I can walk,” you say, moving to stand.

“Good. Walk yourself to the ambulance so we can go to the hospital,” his jaw is set and you know that you’re going to end up at the hospital whether you like it or not.

“Fucking stubborn ass,” you snipe at him as you pass your own gun off to Connors.

“I’m going to get you a four leaf clover for luck, maybe then you’ll stop getting shot,” he shoots back and you can hear the frustration laced in his tone. As well as something else? Fear? Surely not.

“Ha!” Big Nick laughs and everyone turns to look at him. “That’s the perfect nickname for our fed. Clover,” and you groan because you know it’s going to stick. There’s no way it’s not going to stick. You don’t even get a chance to think about them calling you ‘our’ fed until you’re in the waiting room of the hospital.

—————————

“It’s two broken ribs and a nasty bruise,” says the ER doctor, sticking your x-rays up. “Desk duty for the next two months,” she tells you and you groan. Magalon hasn’t left your side yet, the others have, reports to write and debriefs to be held. “I’m going to give you some pain meds, I think the adrenaline hasn’t worn off yet and that’s the reason you aren’t feeling much pain.” You have been feeling pain but downplaying it in the hopes of fooling the doctor. Unfortunately for you, x-rays can’t fool a doctor. “I’m also going to insist that you take the next four days off, bed rest.”

She stares you down and you have no choice but to nod and agree. She turns to Magalon and says “as her partner, I fully expect you to keep her from over-exerting. And absolutely no sex until those ribs are healed,” she wags her finger at the two of you and you both splutter at the same time.

“We’re no-“

“It’s not like-“

The poor woman is confused and you can see why because Magalon introduced himself as your partner when they brought you back to the waiting room.

“I’m FBI,” you explain.

“I’m LA County Sheriffs Department. We’re partners on a case,” Magalon finishes the explanation.

“Ah, well. Regardless,” she points her fingers at you, “you’re on bed rest for four days.” She turns to Magalon, “I don’t know if you can make that happen but I expect you should try.” He nods and she moves to leave the room. “And I know you’re not being truthful about how much pain you’re in,” she points at you again and your face heats. Her finger swings to Magalon, “make sure she takes a pain medication. Take it with food. It’ll probably put you to sleep,” she warns before she heads out.

She must decide that either you aren’t going to take one or Magalon isn’t going to be able to convince you to take one because a nurse makes you take one before you’re allowed to leave.

“She’ll need another one in four hours,” she warns before she takes off. And of course, it takes almost 45 minutes to get out. Between filling the script and getting discharged, by the time you make it to the parking lot you’re a zombie. It’s been a long day and you’re sore, exhausted, and grouchy.

“I had the guys bring your car,” he tells you and you nod. “What’s your address? I need it to get you home,” he says. His voice is soft, like one you would use around a skittish dog as he helps you into the passenger seat but your tongue is thick and heavy and you can’t form words.

By the time Benny makes it back to the drivers seat, you’re asleep. Passed out against the center console and Benny can’t help but smile. You look so soft and peaceful and not at all like a woman who just got shot.

Benny decides to take you to his place since he doesn’t know how to get to yours. He bridal carries you up the stairs to his apartment and manages to get you inside without waking you. Benny settles you down in his bed, unsure of whether to leave your clothes the way they are or try to change you into something comfortable and decides to go with the latter.

He removes your shirt, hoping you’ve got a tank underneath it like last time and is relieved to find one. He slips one of his t shirts over your head, pulling it down across your body before reaching under to pull down the tank. He refuses to look at the tattoo, knowing it’ll kick his brain into overdrive if he does. When he removes the undershirt, Benny must brush against your bruise because you groan in pain but he manages to get it off without waking you. Remembering an old trick from a previous lifetime, he unsnaps your bra and pulls it out the arm holes of the shirt, tossing it with the tank. Jeans are last and he makes sure to keep the shirt pulled all the way down as he blindly unbuttons and strips you. Finally, he tucks you under the covers and grabs a pillow to take to the couch. He sets an alarm and passes the fuck out.

The thing that wakes you is the aching pain in your ribs. You groan, doing your best to sit up but god, they hurt so bad. Glancing around the room you expect to see your collection of plants and pink sheets, but are surprised by bare walls and black sheets.

“Where the fuck-“ you start but then Magalon appears in the doorway. It’s that moment that you realize you’ve been changed into clothes that aren’t yours and you narrow your eyes at him.

“I didn’t see anything. I closed my eyes,” he tells you, crossing the room. “I had to take you to my place because you fell asleep before you could give me your address,” he explains. He’s got a protein bar in one hand and a cup in the other and he hands the cup to you first. “It’s time for your next pain med,” he drops the little pill in your hand, “I know your ribs hurt,” he gives you a pointed look. Grimacing you take the pill and chase it with the water.

“Thank you,” you say when he hands you the protein bar. Scarfing it down, you glance up at him as he nods. “I’m sorry I fell asleep. God, you probably had to carry me inside, didn’t you?” Magalon chuckles and nods.

“I need to tell you that I’m not leaving your side until you can go back to work,” and you open your mouth to protest. “Nope. No arguments. I’m more than happy to take you back to your own place if that would make you more comfortable, but you are stuck with me,” he says and you can tell he isn’t going to argue with you about it and you don’t have the energy to try either.

“Fine. How did you get me changed without ‘seeing anything’?” You smile as he explains, careful not to laugh because you know that it’s going to hurt. “I need to shower. Do you think I’ve got enough time before this kicks in?”

“Not sure, but I think it might be safer to wait until you’ve rested a little more,” you can’t help but agree because as he leaves the bedroom again you feel the deep weight of exhaustion overtake you again and before you know it, you’re out.

—————————

The next time you wake, Benny is already there and waiting for you.

“No, I want to try to shower first,” shaking your head at him and trying to sit up. Goddamn, your ribs hurt. He gives you a hand and leads you to the bathroom.

“I’m sure I don’t have the right…anything. But feel free to use anything in my shower,” he says. “But leave the door unlocked just in case you need me. Do you want me to try to make you something to eat?” Your stomach gives an aggressive grumble at that exact moment and he laughs. “Fried egg sandwich? Coffee?” Nodding at both he takes off to his kitchen. Heading into the bathroom, you flip on the lights and take a look at yourself in the mirror. You look like absolute shit. Red eyes, dark circles, your hair is a mess and a half. You haven’t washed your face recently and you know that the shower is going to dry your skin out. Of course Magalon doesn’t have any body lotion either.

Stripping off the tshirt, one of Magalon’s no doubt, you inspect the large bruise on your right side. It takes up almost your entire ribcage, stretching from under your breasts to almost touching your hipbone and it’s a nasty deep purple. It’ll only worsen over the next couple days too, turning brown to green to yellow. When you turn on the shower, you realize you don’t have a clean towel.

“Magalon?” You call out and hear his answering response. “I don’t have a towel, can you bring me one?” There’s silence, then he calls back that he’ll do it in just a second. Locating a brush, you step into the shower and groan at the hot water on your skin. Magalon has a nice shower, a cool grey tile with glass doors. And he has several body washes to choose from. And an actual shampoo and conditioner, not a 4-in-1 combo. You wash your hair with one hand because it hurts to raise the other and skip washing your feet cause you can’t bend over to reach them, but damn do you feel better.

The towel and a pair of sweats is right outside the bathroom door when you get out. You try to rip a brush through your hair, but the exertion makes your ribs hurt too much. So instead, you dress and head to the kitchen. Magalon is in there, plating a sandwich and setting it next to a cup of coffee. Your damn ribs are absolutely aching but right now? You’re more hungry than you are anything else.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I know. But you’re my partner and I’ve got your back.” Swoon. No-wait. No swoon. Swooning is bad.

“Can I ask you for a small favor?” He nods and you hold out the brush. “It hurts too much to try and brush it.” He takes the brush and looks at it a little funny before he moves to stand behind you. He’s so gentle with it, afraid to put any tension on your head and hurt you. He gets through it as you sip on the coffee, (black, gross) and it doesn’t take him much time and you feel so much better when he’s done.

“Do you want to take your pill now or after you eat?” You opt for now and he hands it to you with a cup of water. “Still tired? Did showering hurt? Do you need to nap?”

“A little but not like I was. No, I feel a lot better being clean. I guess we’ll have to see.”

“Do you want to head back to yours or stay here for now?”

“I’d like to go back to my place, but maybe food first,” Magalon nods and you suppose you should be calling him Benny now. “Clover is gonna stick, isn’t it?” He looses a chuckle and grabs his phone, pulling up a text thread.

Big Nick: How’s Clover?

Benny: Fine. She’s resting. Pain pills took her out.

A couple hours later.

Z: Clover still out?

Benny: Ya. Long day for her. She’s at mine.

Big Nick: Damn Borracho, how did you get that to happen?

Z: OooOOooooHHhhhhh

Connors: Apparently only drugged women go home with you.

Henderson: Y’all are obnoxious

Benny: Fell asleep before I could get her address.

A couple hours later.

Connors: Clover good? Still out?

Benny: Ya. And ya.

Henderson: You know Borracho, my favorite thing about you is how conversational you are.

You snort a laugh and immediately regret it, grabbing at your ribs.

“Are they always like that?”

“As long as I’ve known them. They’ve taken to you though, more than any other person we’ve worked with. Man or woman.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“They’re used to other departments being straight-laced and talking shit about us. You haven’t done that. You call the guys out when they need it and let shit slide that doesn’t. They respect that,” he says, shrugging.

“Is that what happened with the other female agents that worked with you guys?” And he nods.

“By now you know how they are and if they think they’ve found something that’ll bother you, they dig in. And they don’t know when to quit.”

Nodding you ask, “is that how you got the nickname Borracho?” It’s a far cry from how you made fun of his nickname all those months ago. He sighs heavily and you know it’s a story that irritates him a little.

“One time, back when it was Big Nick, Henderson and me, we had a work event. It was fancy and an open bar, so I naturally got shit-faced. Nick and his first wife had to help me out and make sure I didn’t vomit all over myself. Nick started calling me Borracho and I never got rid of it, especially once they realized I hate it.” Your sandwich is gone by now and you move to go put the plate in the sink but Benny stops you. He takes the plate and puts it in the dishwasher before coming to sit next to you again.

“That’s a horrible way to get a nickname,” you smile at him and he smiles back.

“Tell me about it.” A pause. “Getting shot is a much cooler way to get a nickname,” and you shoot him a small glare. “Do you want to try and nap again or are you alright?” Between the shower and the conversation, you’re exhausted again so you opt for another nap. “While you sleep I’m gonna run to the office and grab some files so I can get some work done while I’m out,” he tells you and you nod, drifting back down the hallway to his room. Pulling back the sheets and sliding in, you don’t even hear the front door shut before you’re asleep again.

—————————

You’ve forgotten how much you hate being on bed rest. It’s been years since you last were but good god it is awful. At least there’s company. Once Benny got back from the office with a box in the SUV and some get-wells from the boys, you’d finally felt rested. You got Benny to take you back to your own apartment and he chuckles when he walks in.

“This is the girliest place I’ve ever been in.”

“Leave my decoration choices alone,” but he’s not wrong. Everything is soft and feminine, a grey couch with pink and grey pillows. A baby pink sheets and comforter set and plants everywhere. “Thanks. Seriously. I appreciate you staying with me to make sure I’m okay.”

“No coffee machine?” He asks in lieu of a response.

“I only get coffee from that one place,” you remind him. “It’s easier and it tastes better than drip coffee from a pot.” He laughs and says whatever before he sets the files on your counter.

“Two more days, then you can go back to work,” he reminds you and you stick your tongue out at him when his back is turned. Your ribs still ache but you can at least take a pain pill and not pass out within 20 minutes, so that’s an improvement. “Do you want to sift through these files with me?” He asks and you groan. You don’t, you’re too foggy. “Okay okay, we don’t have to,” he chuckles and turns to you. “What do you feel like doing?”

Truth be told, you want to watch a show. Your favorite romantic show just released a new season last week and you want to get caught up. But it’s steamy and not a show to be watched with a coworker so you say, “is there a game on?” Benny quirks a brow at you and you sigh. You like sports but you just aren’t in the mood for them.

“What do you actually want to watch?” When you give him the name of the show he belly laughs and says “let’s watch it. Cmon. I want to see what it’s like.”

Two hours and several spicy scenes later, Benny is deeply invested in this show. He keeps asking questions and insisting things don’t make sense, but that’s only because he hasn’t seen the first couple seasons. If it didn’t hurt so much to laugh, you would be in absolute tears by now because who knew that Detective Magalon from the LASD would be into regency romances?

“Who is that man?”

“They’re in the garden alone. Don’t they have to get married now?”

“He touched her tit, they definitely have to get married now.

“Who is this entire family?”

Finally you get tired of answering his questions and suggest that you start the whole series over, so he can be caught up. He gives you a side eye, but you ignore it, starting from Season 1 Episode 1 and let it play. The two of you get through the first four episodes before it’s time for another pain med, you’re trying to stretch out the time you need them so you can wean. After you take it you curl into the couch, Benny at one end and you at the other. It doesn’t take long for this one to knock you out and eventually you’re stretched out, your head in Benny’s lap as he finishes the season by himself.

He picks you up as gently as he can, walking you down the hall to settle you into your own bed. He takes the time to examine the pictures hung up in the hallway when he heads back to the couch. He notices a girl in your pictures, one so similar in a way that’s more than just a sibling. You both look about the same age and share the exact same smile, often the both of you holding matching Winnie the Pooh plushies. The pictures of the two of you stop when you reach late teens, Benny guesses somewhere between 17-19. It’s just you now, you and your parents, you and another sibling, a brother. Benny starts taking the pieces and putting them together. A memorial tattoo, a refusal to talk about your family. A decided sensitive spot about your sister, or lack of? Benny doesn’t want to make assumptions, he knows what they say about assuming. But he’s a cop, a long time cop, and he knows how to make an educated guess.

You wake in your own bed, surrounded by your fluffy pink comforter and a deep ache in your ribs. It’s not time for more pain meds, so you decide to ice them down instead. Sneaking past a sleeping Benny and you take the time to study his profile. Strong nose and jaw, salt and pepper in his beard, eyes that have a capability to be soft. He really is an attractive man, if you were being honest with yourself, which you try not to be. He looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping, so much different without the deep furrow between his eyebrows. You try to be as quiet as possible as you make a bag of ice, but it doesn’t take him long to follow you into the kitchen.

“In pain?” He asks, leaning up against the counter. His beefy arms cross his chest and you have to avert your eyes quickly.

“Yeah. The sharp pains are gone but the aching pains won’t budge.” He nods before glancing at the clock.

“It’s early,” you glance at the clock yourself and notice it’s only 6 am. Old habits die hard. “Want to get out of the apartment for a while? We can go grab breakfast?” He offers. “Does that coffee shop you like serve a full breakfast?”

“Actually it does. I’ve never eaten breakfast there before though.”

“Are you willing to try it?”

“Anything to get out for a bit. Just let me finish icing my ribs first. It should take about 30 minutes. Do you need to go home and shower?”

Benny shakes his head, “nah, I took one in the guest room while you were sleeping. Want to watch your show while we wait?” Obviously the answer is yes and you can’t stop watching mid-episode so it’s after 7 by the time you leave the house. Benny orders literally only a cup of coffee and you side eye him a you order blueberry pancakes, bacon, and hashbrowns with a French vanilla cappuccino.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” He shakes his head at you.

“Nah, not much of a breakfast eater,” he says, taking a deep drink.

“Breakfast is the best meal of the day,” and it sends the two of you into an argument about which meal actually is the best meal. (Benny says they’re all the same, which leads you to believe he doesn’t eat much outside of work.)

This silly argument lasts nearly the entire time you wait for food and when it does arrive, you dig in. You’re so hungry that you almost don’t notice that Benny steals a piece of bacon off your plate. “Hey! Get your own food!” You cry, moving to stab him with your fork, but he manages to dodge. He laughs, a full belly laugh, and the sound is delicious. “You should’ve ordered something,” you warn, covering your food with your arms. “I don’t share food.”

He laughs again and flags down the waitress, ordering a side of bacon and some toast. You glare at him until it arrives, and the waitress chuckles as she fills his coffee. “I don’t share food with my boyfriend either,” and before you can argue that Benito Magalon is NOT your boyfriend, she’s gone.

————————-

Benny stays with you the next day and a half, until Monday and you’re allowed to return back to work. He offers to drive you but you refuse, telling him you go in much earlier than he does. “I can stay on your couch again. I’ll wake up when you wake up,” he says and you finally relent. So the next morning, at 6:30 you head into the kitchen, only to find Benny showered and holding coffee. “Hey. I grabbed coffee,” he lifts said coffee. “Want me to drive your car?”

It’s so bright in the office, much more bright than the low lights of your home, and it makes you wince.

“Clover!” Comes the cry from your office mates as they see you. You can’t help but smile and then it widens when you see what’s on your desk. A tiny pot with something green in it, which upon further inspection turns out to be…..clover.

“You guys have to be fucking kidding me,” you laugh, gently so not to upset your ribs. There’s a loud ruckus of laughter from them, as if it’s the funniest practical joke they’ve ever pulled. “You know this won’t live, right?” Examining it, you notice that it looks like they literally dug it up from the front lawn and stuck it in a pot. “It needs a lot more light than it’s gonna get sitting on my desk,” you explain before thanking them for doing something so thoughtful.

Big Nick steps out of his office to welcome you back, reaching over to slap a hand on your shoulder. You brace, waiting for the impact to jar your ribs but a sharp ‘don’t’ from Benny stops the hand before it connects. “Those ribs are still broke, Nick,” he says, barely lifting his eyes from his files to acknowledge Nick. Nick grunts, turns, tells you how good it is for you to be back, then disappears.

Lifting your eyes, you notice the same stunned expression on everyone else’s face and exchange of glances with one another. And glances with you.

That Monday is one of the longest of your career. you barely get anything done and all you want to do is go home and rest, but you can’t. It’s nearly midday when your patience snaps because Henderson looks at you funny when you grunt in pain.

“Got something to say, Henderson?” You snap and he gives you a wide, nervous glance before his eyes snap to Benny. “No. Don’t look at him, look at me. Do you have something to say?” Benny, you see him out of the corner of your eye, checks his watch and then pulls his phone out.

You’re so annoyed because you know they’re texting their little group chat. And you know they’re texting about you. Especially when four phones go off at the same time, more than once.

Borracho: it’s her first day off pain meds. Cut her some slack.

Nick: been there.

Henderson: same.

Z: does she need anything?

Borracho: food. And a coffee.

Z: what does she like?

Borracho: get her General Tso’s and house fried rice. And a caramel macchiato.

Z nods, getting up from his chair and heading out the door.

“Y’all texting about me?” You snap, eyes sharp as they bore holes in Benny’s head. He gives you this soft, pitying look that absolutely makes you rage and stand up suddenly before you double over in pain. Stupid fucking ribs. Stupid fucking perp that shot you. Stupid fucking pain meds. Wait-pain meds. Oh goddamnit. That’s why you’re so grouchy, you haven’t had any today and you’re sore and shaky.

“Are you alright?” Benny asks, standing. You wave him off, heading to the back of the bullpen where there aren’t any eyes and take a couple deep breaths. After four days of basically living together, you recognize the sound of Benny’s feet as they come up behind you. “Hurtin’?” He asks and you nod your head. “Want to head home?” You shake your head, but you really like the way he uses home like it’s somewhere the both of you are going.

“Nah, I just need a little bit of food and probably some coffee,” and you’re confused when Benny smiles.

“That’s where Z went. He’s grabbing Chinese and a caramel macchiato.” And you know that it was 100% Benny’s idea.

“Thanks Ben,” you smile at him, placing a soft hand on his forearm. There’s a moment there, in the back of the bullpen, between the two of you. You’ve been toeing that line all weekend, really for the last two months and this might be the turning point in your relationship. Benny feels safe. Benny feels like comfort. Someone you can trust. Someone you can count on.

Which is amazing to you because it’s such a far cry from where you started, nearly a year ago. Which makes you think, then makes you apologize.

“I’m sorry for how I acted when I first got here.”

“It’s fine. I think you had the right to be, these guys are a tough nut to crack,” he says, gesturing to the bullpen behind them. “They don’t take very well to others, especially fed. The ones we usually deal with are snarky and uptight. They make fun of us or judge us.” You understand, really you do. It makes sense, how defensive they are and how they treat new people. “Are you sure that you don’t want to head home? I can work from there,” he offers and it makes your chest tight. But his phone dings and it’s Z, letting him know that he’s back and that makes your chest tight again. These men care about you, your physical and mental well-being, and they want to make sure you’re okay. So, you shake your head at Benny and head back to your desk, lobbing an apology to everyone for your behavior, and sit down. Grabbing a file, you start to flip through it, but before you even have a chance to look at it, a bag and a coffee are set in front of you. You glance up and smile at Z, thanking him and apologizing to him in the same breath. He waves you off and sits down, but you can’t quite let it go.

“Z, what’s your cashapp. Or your Venmo? Let me pay for this, you didn’t have to go get it for me,” you tell him but he waves you off again.

“Nahh, Borracho already paid for it. Don’t worry about it,” and when you look at Benny, he refuses to look at you.

*************

Month 12

Month 12, you’re added into the group chat. Your phone buzzes one morning with one text from Big Nick and you notice that there’s a bunch of numbers there that you don’t recognize. Benny’s you do, but no one else. After about a week he stopped sleeping on your couch but he still gets to the office early and the two of you spend your mornings in companionable silence, sharing breakfast.

Big Nick: Anyone up for grabbing donuts this morning?

Big Nick: Also, drop your names so Clover knows who’s who.

Clover: Isn’t being a bunch of donut loving cops a little cliche?

Big Nick: Rude. No donuts for you.

You laugh a little out loud, noticing the ache in your ribs has almost completely disappeared, nearly two months after you got shot. You know Nick well enough now to know that he’s joking and he’s not being the rude, brash, asshole you initially thought that he was.

Zapata: It’s Z. Can’t this morning, gonna do a witness call.

Connors: This is Connors. I’m already at a crime scene, so I can’t. Save me some though!

Henderson: This is Henderson. I’m gonna be late as it is, I don’t have time.

Benny: Borracho can grab some from the usual place.

Clover: Don’t get any jelly filled ones, they’re the worst.

Zapata: Uh oh.

Clover: What?

Connors: NO JELLY FILLED? THAT’S UN-AMERICAN. I’M GOING BACK TO THE OTHER GROUP CHAT.

You laugh out loud again, the idea of Connors taking jelly-filled donuts so seriously honestly tracks for who he is as a person.

Clover: I’m sorry! Get all the jelly filled that you want, but get me long chocolate donut. No jelly, please.

Connors: Borracho, get a dozen jelly-filled just to spite Clover.

Clover: Awe, Connors. You’re hurting my feelings.

Big Nick: It’s too early to be reading this many messages.

Clover: You texted us first.

Benny: Chill or I won’t get donuts.

Henderson: You started the group chat.

Connors: You text first?!

Zapata: Speaking of, what should I name the chat?

Big Nick: Why does the group chat need a name?

Zapata: Our other chat is called The Regulators. We need to name this one too.

Connors: How about the FEDulators? It sounds the same!!

Clover: That’s the worst name I’ve ever heard, Connors.

Clover: How about Clover and the Four Leaf’s?

Zapata: OoOoOoOhHhHhH!!!!! I like that!!!!

Zapata changed the group name to 🍀Clover and the Four Leaf’s 🍀

Big Nick: Y’all are fuckin’ idiots.

You’re already in the office and lift your head at the sound of someone coming into the bullpen. It’s Benny, carrying two dozen donuts. He smiles at you and it makes something go slippery in your chest and Jesus you’re an adult.

“Welcome to the group chat. It’s hell here,” he laughs, holding out an open box for you to grab one. The two of you sit in silence, eating donuts and sharing files.