#did people leave there stuff in here because they didn’t want to take them home with them so they just left them in a central area HOPING

[the-thing-inside-your-closet]

Nothing You Can Prove

Danny wasn’t having a good time. In fact, he was having a very, very, very, very, bad time.

He was just trying to walk home with his children, his very energetic chaos inclined children, when Ellie declared that she needed to use the bathroom. So, as any responsible parent would, Danny walked with her and Dan to the nearest building that would have an open to the public restroom. And while Ellie was busy using the little girl’s room, Danny focused to ensuring Dan didn’t bite anyone. Again. The last time he drew blood and Danny couldn’t apologise enough to the punk looking guy who seemed completely bewildered by what had happened.

All Danny remembered was apologising repeatedly, turning to scold Dan about biting strangers, and the young man muttering something about some guy named Tom (or was it Tim?) And how he was never going to believe what had happened.

So, safe to say Danny was more focused on watching his child and waiting for the other one than looking at the suspicious group of men that had just walked into the restaurant.

Because of course the first building Danny saw that might have an open bathroom was a fancy upscale restaurant, and not the fast food restraint two blocks down. Ellie had said she couldn’t hold it that long.

But now, Danny had a gun to his face, and his babies hidden behind him as much as he could manage while the two of them subtly tried to shove past him so they could beat the shit out of this butthead for daring to point a weapon at their dad.

Masked thug: Hand over all of valuables! Wallet, phone, everything! Be quick and nobody gets hurt!

Danny calmly reached into his pocket, and hoped that the situation would stay as calm as possible until the city’s local heir or the police could arrive. He didn’t want to have to reveal his or his children’s powers and potentially need to flee yet another city.

Danny: Here, just take it and go.

The thugs had grabbed what they could from as many people as possibly before bolting, leaving many of the patrons upset and shaken from the encounter. Danny quickly turned to his children and vegans looking them over, fussing and making sure they were okay.

Ellie: Dad you never let the guy near us. How could we have possibly gotten hurt?

Danny: With how much trouble you two like to get into, I’m not taking any chances. Now Dan-

Dan was gone. Dan. Was. Gone. Danny felt his chest tighten and his breathing becoming harder to control. Where was his son?!

Just as Danny was about to ask a waitress who had just finished giving her statement to a police officer if she’d seen where his son ran off to, Dan reappeared beside his sister with a sharp toothed grin.

Dan: Don’t worry dad, I got your stuff back. So you don’t have to be upset now!

Danny: …What did you do.

Dan, smirking: Nothing you can prove.

The local vigilante/hero watching this exchange:

[gloomwitchwrites]

You send him a text "Thanks for the flowers, babe" attached with a photo of a bouquet as a prank. Obvs, he gets jealous/possessive.

Anon, I love this. I cackled the first time I read it, and I've been wanting to get to it for a while. There are so many requests (and I will get to them all), but with my health being shit, I'm trying to select from the pool where I'm not overworking my brain or stressing myself out trying to come up with something. This prompt came very naturally to me.

These are all spicy. Period. I didn't hold back with this one. Maybe I'm ovulating or some shit but I literally couldn't write anything but smut for this prompt. I had a lot of fun with this one, and I hope you enjoy.

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: swearing, dirty talk, praise, spanking, oral sex (female & male receiving), face fucking, restraints, vaginal fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie, jealousy, possessive behavior, orgasm control

Word Count: 4.4k

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

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

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He ignores it, attention stuck on Price who stands in front of a large map of Europe.

There are pictures—some have a red “X” through them while a couple others have black question marks. The mission isn’t done, but that isn’t surprising. This has taken months to complete. It’s been slow, and entirely too complicated for Simon’s liking.

His phone buzzes again, the vibration pulling his attention away.

When the third buzz comes in, his agitation turns to worry. Simon never allows messages to come through at work unless it’s from very specific people. To have three come through in less than two minutes stirs something in his gut.

Price starts talking again but Simon’s brain is melting. He reaches into his pocket and fishes out his phone. Keeping it next to his thigh, Simon awakens the screen.

Your name is there and 3 new messages.

Simon glances up, but no one is looking at him. Silently, he unlocks the phone and clicks over to his messages, tapping on your name.

At first, Simon doesn’t understand. His brain short-circuits, and then unbridled jealousy comes roaring forward.

The first message is a photo of a beautiful bouquet sitting on the kitchen island. It’s fucking large, taking up most of the space. The flowers are different shades of pink, yellow, and orange. It looks like spring.

Beneath the picture are two texts.

Thanks for the flowers!!

I love you!

But Simon did not get you flowers. He didn’t order these, and he certainly didn’t have them delivered to the flat.

Fuck. What the actual fuck.

Someone else did this.

Simon’s first thought is that Johnny did it to prank him. But Johnny has been a bit subdued today, and his attention isn’t on Simon at all.

No. It’s likely not him.

Simon locks his phone and stews. He can’t just leave this meeting. It’s important, but he’s going to get to the fucking bottom of it.

By the time Price dismisses them, Simon is already out the door, charging toward his locker to grab his stuff. It usually takes him a half hour to arrive home, but today he does it in twenty. When Simon bursts through the front door, he’s ready to toss those flowers right off the balcony.

But then he sees your face—how happy you are—and Simon melts. You throw yourself into his arms, and Simon instinctually responds, embracing you tightly. He presses his face into your hair and inhales.

“Missed you,” you say, grabbing both sides of his face and kissing him. “Thank you for the flowers.”

I didn’t get you any flowers.

Simon smiles because it’s all he can manage. That jealousy from earlier starts to curl back up, twisting around in his ribcage.

“Did you like the note?”

You frown. “What note?”

The way you ask is…odd. It’s far too innocent in the presentation. Simon knows your cues and this seems forced to him. But the sender didn’t leave a message. That doesn’t give Simon much to go on if he’s going to track down who sent them.

“Maybe they forgot,” he replies, kissing your forehead. “Show them to me.”

With a bright smile, you take his hand, guiding him into the kitchen. They’re much more stunning in person and Simon momentarily freezes. Did he forget your birthday? An anniversary? An important event?

Simon recalls nothing for today’s date.

The jealousy rises again but he clamps down on it. Anyone could have sent this, especially a friend of yours or a family member. Doesn’t mean there is someone out there with predatory intentions. And for all Simon knows, you’re having a laugh, riling me up. You’ve done it before.

“They’re lovely,” observes Simon. “Better than the picture.”

Your grin is gorgeous, a thing Simon wants to bottle up. You open your mouth to answer him but the dryer goes off. “Hold on,” you call over your shoulder as you dash away. “Let me change over the loads.”

When you disappear, Simon goes for the bouquet. He quickly checks through every flower and between the stems, even sticks his fingers in the dirt. Simon doesn’t know what the fuck he’s looking for, but he’s grasping for anything.

The only thing of note is the business card which Simon quickly plucks from its holder and tucks into his pocket. Simon steps away from the bouquet when you appear again.

Jealousy is stewing, showing its fangs, curling tighter around Simon’s ribs.

When you reach for him, Simon sweeps you off your feet, planting you on the kitchen island. You giggle, but Simon cuts it off, drawing you to the edge to seize your lips in a fierce kiss.

That jealous viper between his bones tells him to possess you.

Simon’s hands drop to your waist and then your hips. He settles himself between your legs, hands moving down to your bare thighs.

You’re flushed with embarrassment, attempting to hide your face from him, giggling his name as you fist his shirt.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” rasps Simon.

Your lips part and Simon slides his tongue inside. You moan, suck on his tongue, and release him. Simon’s grip on your thighs tightens.

“All day?” you ask softly.

Moving his hands to beneath your thighs, Simon tugs you into his arms and carries you over to the dining room table, but doesn’t place you on top of it. He brings you to your feet, and then his fingers curl around the shorts that are little more than underwear.

“Take these off.”

“Simon—”

“Do it,” he growls, releasing them and bringing his hand back to his side.

Slowly, you do as he says. You bring them up so that Simon can see them before tossing them to the side. That viper in him hisses, the venom leaking into his system.

Simon slides his hand between your thighs. You lean back against the table, hands resting on the edge as you part your legs. What his fingers find only makes him groan.

Withdrawing, Simon licks his fingers clean. “Turn around. Bend over the table. Show me what I want.” With a smirk on your lips, you face the table, and bend forward, going up on your toes.

Fuck the flowers and whoever sent them. You’re his.

Simon unbuckles the front of his belt, undoes the zipper of his pants, and frees his aching cock. He needs to be inside you, to hear you say his name, to feel you come around him. He needs to possess because it’s the only thing he can do right now.

Guiding with his hand, Simon rubs the head of his cock through your slickness. You’re already so wet for him—so fucking needy, and he’ll devour it all. Give you exactly what you want while taking something for him.

As he starts to slide in, you whimper. Reaching back, your hand grabs your ass, opening yourself a bit wider for him.

Bloody hell.

Simon doesn’t want to go slow. Using his grip on your hip, he slides all the way in, making you take him to the hilt with one forward thrust of his hips.

Your gasp is choked, and then Simon is lost, pounding into you as if this is the last time he’ll ever fuck you. It’s only your tightness, your breathy moans of pleasure, and the desperate why you say his name. It wraps around him, satiates the viper, calms the rising jealousy until it’s only you Simon can focus on.

Through the haze, Simon finds your clit, plays with it, slows his thrusts until your orgasm arrives, squeezing him so tight he almost finishes right then and there. But once that wave crests and crashes, Simon is back at it. Planting both hands on the table on either side of your waist, Simon stutters out, his lower back tensing, everything draw up.

Simon’s orgasm is an unraveling. All the tension melts as he finishes, and even then, he continues to thrust, pushing his cum deeper inside you. His chest heaves, body shuddering as he draws back a bit. Your breathing is just as labored.

Easing out of your body, Simon admires the bloom of cum at your entrance. He presses it back inside before helping you unbend from the table. Turning you around to face him, Simon claims your mouth in a deep kiss, his grasping the back of your head.

You form to him, and Simon’s hunger flares.

“To bed,” he says, drawing you away with a tug on your hair.

“To sleep?” you ask, smirking.

Maybe you did all this. Planned it all from the beginning.

Naughty girl.

Simon shakes his head. “Not yet.”

He releases you, and then smacks your ass for good measure. Squeaking, you scurry away toward the bedroom. Simon stands there for a moment, composing himself. Reaching into his pocket, he withdraws the business card. There is an address and a phone number.

Glancing over his shoulder at the bouquet, Simon comes to a decision. Stalking toward his duffle, Simon secures the business card in a side pocket. He’ll deal with this at work.

Right now, you’re getting undressed.

And Simon is much more interested in that.

Flowers can wait.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You send the final text and lock your phone, leaving it on the coffee table.

It’s just a little prank. A tease.

Kyle is always a gentleman even when he makes your toes curl and pulls unseemly sounds from between your lips. But riling him up can be just as fun. Kyle isn’t one to be jealous or even possessive of you. He’s certainly protective, and his presence always makes you feel safe, but you’re aching for something else right now.

The flowers weren’t all that expensive. And they are pretty.

Your phone buzzes. You ignore it.

It buzzes again.

When you check the screen, you see two new texts from Kyle. You stare at it, and set it back down. You’re going to let him stew and question. If anything, Kyle might think the flowers innocent.

Tapping your fingers against your knee, impatience stirring in your belly, you stare out the patio door. You need to distract yourself, but the urge to look is too strong. Snatching the phone back up, you glance at the messages.

That’s sweet, love.

But I didn’t get you flowers.

Honesty. This man is terrible at lying or hiding his feelings.

You tap out a reply.

Of course you did! Loved the note you left with it!

Kyle’s reply is instant.

Note?

You nearly cackle at the ceiling and when you hit send.

I want you tonight. You know you can have me whenever lol. No need to send flowers about it.

Within seconds of you hitting send, you phone starts to vibrate. Yelping, you nearly drop the thing. Kyle’s name and a photo of him at the beach pop up on your screen. You stare at it, allowing it to go to voicemail. He calls again immediately.

You launch off the couch, pacing as the phone falls back into voicemail. It’s a bit thrilling knowing that Kyle is likely worked up on the other end.

Answer the phone, comes Kyle’s next text, and then, I’m coming home.

Oh shit.

You are all nervous excitement waiting for him. And when he does come barreling through the door, you’re a bit shocked at the sight of him.

Slowly, he shuts the front door, striding into the kitchen where the bouquet is. He stares at it for a long moment before turning his gaze on you.

“Kyle,” you say brightly, walking toward him.

He holds up a finger and walks past you. You hear the opening and shutting of doors, of drawers being opened, and items moving around. Kyle returns, hands on his hips, concern on his features.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“I didn’t send you those flowers.”

“Didn’t you?” you reply, innocently, moving toward them.

Kyle shoots forward and begins digging through the stems. “Where is that bloody card?” he mutters.

There is no card. No note. You made it all up.

“Kyle,” you say, but he ignores you.

“Un-fucking-believable,” he says, ripping opening the plastic to see inside.

“Kyle,” you repeat, adding a bit of volume behind your voice.

Again, he ignores you, scattering the flowers across the countertop.

“When I find the fucking wanker that—”

“Kyle!”

He turns, eyes a bit wild. Kyle looks ridiculous, and you suddenly feel terrible. You reach for him, placing both hands on either side of his face. “There’s no note.”

Kyle blinks like he didn’t hear you correctly. “What?”

“There’s no note,” you repeat. “I bought the flo—”

Kyle groans loudly and places his entire hand over your face, muffling the last few words. “Bloody hell, baby girl.” He lightly pushes off, dropping his hand, and stepping back.

You grin sheepishly as Kyle crosses his arms over his chest.

“What was the goal?” he asks, leaning forward a bit.

You shrug your shoulders. “To rile you up?”

Kyle laughs, short and clipped. “Rile me up?”

“Yes,” you say slowly.

He leans in a bit more, a smirk on his face. “And what do you think was going to happen once you riled me up?”

You know that Kyle already knows the answer to this question. But he’s indulging you. As he always does.

“I didn’t think that far,” you reply, but it’s far from the truth.

You wanted to rile him up so that he’d come home and fuck you like a man possessed.

Kyle bites down on his bottom lip and you track the movement. “No, love. You did.” He straightens. “And I know what you want.”

Kyle steps into your space, his head dipping as if to kiss you but pausing just before. “You need a good throat fucking. I need an apology. And then I can give you what you want.”

“Kyle,” you breathe.

“On your knees, love. Present your mouth.”

You obediently drop to your knees, and part your lips.

“Wider,” he almost growls.

You do so just as Kyle reaches down and undoes the front of his belt. He doesn’t even look. Doesn’t flinch. The belt is gone and the front of his pants are open by the time Kyle grabs your face and brings you close.

“Tongue out.”

You do so, and Kyle taps the head of his cock against it before sliding it back and forth over your tongue. His hold shifts, falling to the nape of your neck.

“Take it like a good girl. Got it?”

You nod, and Kyle draws you forward, forcing you to take all of him. Holding you in place for a few seconds, Kyle only eases you back once your gag reflex kicks in. Kyle adjusts his stance, and your hands grasp the sides of his thighs.

Kyle’s hand on the back of your neck tightens as his other hand tangles in your hair. Keeping you in place, he starts to thrust, fucking your mouth like he would your pussy. All you can do is cling to him, to hold on as he grunts above you.

There isn’t any anger there, just a stern brow and a need for control. It’s delicious. Entirely mouth-watering. Your core warms, a slickness blooming, indicating just how much this turns you on.

To bring Kyle toward his end, you make little sounds in your throat. It makes him stutter. It makes him moan. Beneath his pants, you feel the muscles in his legs tighten. And then he’s forcing you down his length, throating him entirely as he comes down your throat.

Breathing through you nose is the only thing holding you together. And when he slides you off, you cough, wiping at your lips.

Kyle’s hand caresses your cheek, drawing your gaze to him. He arches a single eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

Reaching out, Kyle draws you up to your feet, bringing you close. His smile is soft, and when he comes in for a kiss, it is consuming.

“Now that you’ve riled me up,” he murmurs against your lips. “I’ll give you what you want.”

Kyle pulls away, his thumb pressing on your bottom lip.

“Take off your clothes. Kneel on the bed. And bend over. Got it?”

You nod, and Kyle drops his hand.

“That’s my good girl.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny’s ears are ringing.

“You better be bloody joking,” he growls at his phone.

On the screen is a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Flowers that you’re thanking him for. Flowers that he didn’t send.

And the card? Bloody fucking hell. That card is going in the shredder. Johnny will tear it apart with his own teeth if he has to. Some fucker had the bright idea to send you flowers like he’s the one you’re dating.

No. Fuck that.

Johnny might be the demolitions expert, but he knows Ghost could dig around for him if he asked. Scratch that. Johnny is asking right fucking now.

“Hey, Lt!” Johnny jogs over to Ghost and turns his phone around. “Can you trace who sent these flowers?”

Ghost’s expression behind the balaclava remains flat. “It’s a fucking photo, Johnny.”

Cursing under his breath, Johnny forwards the image to Ghost. Ghost checks his phone, enlarging the image.

He grunts. “Should be easy.” Ghost glances up from the screen. “Why?”

“Someone making a move on my woman,” replies Johnny, holding back a growl.

“Done,” says Ghost. “Give me a couple hours.”

It doesn’t take Ghost long, and Johnny has to laugh out loud.

“You fucking naughty thing,” mutters Johnny as he unlocks the door to your flat.

When he enters, you’re nearly on your toes, eager for him. It’s cute, but you need to learn first. Sure, the prank is harmless, but you were wanting a rise out of him.

Punishment is needed.

“Johnny,” you say brightly, coming around the counter to greet him.

As you arms reach for him, Johnny removes his belt. Your gaze drops, but he is faster than you. Johnny has the belt around your wrists and secured before you can even protest.

“What are you doing?” you ask breathlessly.

“Thought I wouldn’t find out?” Johnny tuts. He yanks you forward, bringing the two of you almost face-to-face. “Bought those flowers yourself.”

Johnny tugs on the belt again. You stumble into him and he spins you around. With another quick tug, Johnny has the belt looped onto one of the coat hooks embedded in the wall.

Reaching down, Johnny palms your ass, his lips pressed to your ear. “Got me all jealous at work. Had Ghost stalking the flower shop and everything.” He squeezes, and then smacks your ass. Hard.

You whimper. “Johnny. I’m sorry.”

“No apologies, love.” He kisses your throat. Your skin is soft and he inhales, savoring your scent. You’re freshly showered, and the smell of your shampoo invades his nostrils.

It doesn’t take much to rid you of your underwear. It’s just you in an old shirt and your bare ass on full display. Johnny slides his hands between you clenched thighs.

“Spread them.”

You do so obediently and a primal part of him simmers with pleasure. Johnny slowly drops to his knees behind you. He savors the view, taking his time to enjoy the sight before him. Even from here, Johnny can see how slick you are. How wanton.

He’s going to devour you. Make you beg. Deny you what it is you most want until you’re a fucking mess for him. That’s punishment enough.

Johnny tests by running one finger over your pussy. It comes back glossy. He pops it into his mouth, groaning at your taste.

“Want me to eat this pretty pussy?” asks Johnny, running his finger over you again.

You nod frantically. “Yes. Please.”

That’s a start.

Johnny leans in, the tip of his tongue playing with your entrance. He traces it with his tongue before slipping inside, slowly fucking you with it. It’s not enough, but Johnny knows this. He needs to suck on your clit and give you his fingers to make you come.

But even then, you’ll have to wait.

You’ll have to beg.

Johnny trails upward, swirling his tongue, finding your clit. He teases it. Flicks it back and forth in a steady stroke. You’re already growing wetter. You’re already moaning above him. Too bad you don’t know what’s coming.

Johnny slides one finger inside of you, pumping twice before inserting a second. You’re tight around him. He can feel the stretch.

He works you slowly, lightly thrusting his fingers in and out of your pussy as he teases your clit with his tongue. Above him, your moans come unbroken and loud. It’s sweet. He loves the sound. But Johnny knows your tells, and when your muscles begin to clench and unclench quickly, he ceases all movement.

“What the fuck,” you gasp, glancing down.

Johnny chuckles. “You have to earn it love.”

“Johnny, please,” you beg.

“What’s that, love? Didn’t hear you?”

“Please,” you say, drawing it out.

“Please what?” he prompts.

“I want to come,” you murmur.

Johnny smirks and starts fucking you with his fingers again, but doesn’t put his mouth back on your clit. It’s not enough for you. You’re squirming. Wiggling. Needing more.

“You pull another stunt like this again, love, and this,” Johnny smacks your ass with a sharp thwack, “will be red.”

“I’m sorry, Johnny. Please. Just—please.”

Johnny teases your clit with a quick swipe of his tongue. “Beg some more.”

You do. All sorts of obscene things fall from your lips. When tears form in the corner of your eyes, Johnny finally gives you relief.

He fucks your gorgeous pussy with his fingers. He tastes and teases until you’re crying out, clamping around him as you come undone.

Johnny withdraws. Straightens.

You’re still hanging on the hook.

He frees you from it, but does not remove the belt from around your wrists. Johnny presses you against him with a flat palm upon your stomach.

“Don’t do that again,” he murmurs.

“I won’t.”

Johnny kisses your throat. “To bed.”

You frown, holding up your bound hands. “But the belt.”

“Stays on,” he says, fisting the tangling leather. “Until I’m done with you.”

John Price

John isn’t one for texting.

You’ll send him a barrage of texts only for him to call you hours later asking what you were texting him about.

Which is why you didn’t think this plan would work.

But then it did, and now you’re bent over John’s lap, bare ass in the air.

John told you that he was working late to catch up on paperwork. Whenever that happens, he always gives you a call to check-in and hear your voice. It’s routine at this point. A comfort. Most of the time, he just wants you on the other side, to have you talk about the day or whatever you want while he’s working. John will usually remain silent, listening, basking in your voice.

You planned it perfectly, knowing that he’d check his phone before giving you a call. You sent the photo of the flowers. A beautiful display really. And they were on sale. You also sent him a picture of the makeshift “note” that you made for it. All it said was “thinking of you” with no name. All of that was follow up by a “thank you” and promises to please him later.

John was calm when he called you—almost eerily so. When you thanked him from the flowers, he didn’t reply. He simply pushed past it. The thing is, John saved all of that energy up for when he came home.

Your ass stings. John rubs the spot he just smacked before squeezing.

“Now, love. Tell me the truth.” He says it so sweetly, like it’s such a simple thing.

And you don’t know how much longer you’ll last under this barrage.

“You bought them for me,” you whimper, keeping up the façade.

John shakes his head. “We both know that’s not true.” He squeezes your ass again, the sting burning slightly when he let’s go.

“I’d guess you’re seeing someone else but that would be lie. Wouldn’t it?”

He punctuates this statement by slipping his hand between your thighs, his fingers running over your pussy, parting your slickness. John dips one finger inside and then another, only to retreat and grab your ass cheek with the same hand.

“I know just how to make you wet, love. You have no one else to run to.”

“I told you—Fuck! John!” You jolt in his lap as his palm comes down on your already throbbing cheek.

“Be honest, love. Or you’ll get a few more.”

You swallow down your pride. You wanted him riled up, but you weren’t expecting this. Not for John to come home, strip you down, and bend you over his lap.

“I bought them,” you grumble.

John’s hand eases. “You what?”

“I bought them,” you snap.

“I knew you did.”

Before you have the chance to form a retort, John guides you up and into his lap. He grabs the front of your throat, bringing you close to him. He does not kiss you. He simply hovers.

“You’re going to straddle my lap and bounce on my cock until I fill you up. You understand?”

You nod, and Price let’s go of your throat.

“Get to it,” he purrs.

John is fully clothed, and you’re wearing nothing at all. You undo the clasp of his belt, pull the zipper, and he flexes his hips enough that you can work his pants down a bit. When his hard length is free to you, you straddle him, lining yourself up.

He remains impassive as you start to sink down. The stretch is perfect—as it always is, and you groan as you seat yourself entirely on his cock. Gripping his shoulders, you roll up and back down, rocking when you can to give your legs a break.

John still stays quiet but his gaze is assessing. Slowly, his hand comes around your neck again, and this time he squeezes slightly. It’s not to hurt. It’s to dominate and possess.

“Who do you belong to, love?” he asks.

“You,” you murmur, sinking down on him.

“Say it again,” repeats John.

“I belong to you,” you gasp, coming up and then back down.

“Again,” and this time there’s a growl in his tone.

“I’m yours, John.”

“Fucking right,” he says, crashing his mouth to yours.

The kiss is a claiming, one that shoots through your body and consumes your limbs and control. You shudder, pussy clenching, and then John is fucking up into you, his hands on your hips.

You’re no longer in control. It’s just John, and his need to possess.

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[heavndoll]

saw this tiktok where a girl jumped out of her bf’s moving car because she was losing an argument, and i’m thinking of that with rafe and fem!reader but with a twist to it <3

✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆ ✩

rafe had hauled you into his truck, slamming the passenger door shut. anger was pumping through him, and he hastily got into the driver’s side, pressing on the gas to drive away from the party.

he was mad at you for not only wearing a short dress, but was mad at the fact men were giving you attention because of it. you knew very well that even if other males were to give you attention or flash you a charming smile, they knew better than to ever approach rafe cameron’s girl.

but for some reason, that knowledge didn’t stick to rafe’s own brain.

“my girl is out here, dressing like a fucking slut!” rafe yelled, and you rolled your eyes, ignoring the complete fact he was going 100MPH over the speed limit.

you would be okay with getting in a car accident at this very moment. maybe he would kick in some conscious or decent common sense into his head.

“want me to dress like i’m fuckin’ amish or something, rafe?” you asked, scoffing. “i get you want control or whatever, but my style is up for me to decide. not my fault you’re insecure.”

rafe’s head immediately snapped in your direction, eyes bulking with rage and madness, like a bomb about to go off. “the fuck did you just tell me?” he asked, mindlessly not paying attention the road in front of him.

“said its a not my fault you’re insecure,” you repeated, grinning happily. “a man who knows what he’s secures with doesn’t fucking trip every minute — all you do is worry, and get mad at the attention people give me.”

“i’ll throw you out this fuckin’ car right now,” he threatened, and you shrugged, picking at your acrylic nails. “leave you on the side of the road for someone else to get you.”

“yeah, hopefully it’s topper or cameron,” you said, bored of rafe’s threats. when you date a guy like him for over a year, doesn’t take much to start yawning and getting tired of his bullshit.

“you’re a whore,” he went on, and you hummed, glad to see he at least had his eyes back on the road. “parading yourself around like some tramp. looks like i’m with a fuckin’ pogue or something.”

“said you’ll throw me out of this car, right?” you wondered, taking off your seatbelt, and rafe eyed you for a hast moment. “i’ll just do the job for you,” you unlocked the passenger door, throwing your stilettos and purse out before you could proceed with them.

rafe reflexively pulled you backwards by the back hemming of your strapless dress, his other hand stern on the wheel. “what the fuck is wrong with you!” he shouted, slamming on his brakes in the middle of the road, and put the car in park. he tugged you back into your seat, and grabbed your jaw roughly, forcing eye contact. “some sorta attention seeker, huh baby? just trying to piss me off more.”

“thought i’d stick to your word for you,” you told him, and he panted heavily, his boiled anger coming visible to you. you only smiled, flashing doe eyes at him while batting your lashes. “can you grab my purse and shoes, then? least you can do, rafe.”

he let go of your jaw, staring at you for a moment with thoughts toppling all in his mind on what to do with you. he got out of the truck, went to grab your stuff, and tossed it down on your lap when he returned.

“you’re some fuckin’ surprise, baby,” rafe said, continuing the drive back to tannyhill. “you’re in for it when we get back home.”

[watchmegetobsessed]

MAD MAN

A/N: he looked like a snack, his ce vibes were too strong to hold them back

base of the idea was by @harrysblackcoat

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

SUMMARY: You came to the game to forget about the massive fight you had with Harry a few days ago, but your alone time is soon interrupted by the man you've been trying to avoid.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You weren’t planning to come today. Well, you were, until about four days ago, but then the whole ordeal happened with Harry and suddenly you didn’t want to do anything else than stay at home, cry or either sleep until you forget about the shit you both said. 

It was nasty. You don’t even remember how it started, maybe it was because he got home too late, or was it because you couldn’t choose a restaurant again and it always drives him crazy.

You have no idea what started it, you only remember how bad it got. Screaming, shouting, saying the worst things you ever did and probably neither of you meant. But you said them and you can’t take them back. 

Maybe packing your stuff and leaving wasn’t your best idea, but you needed time and space. Harry has been blowing your phone up ever since, but you feel like you need just a little bit more time away from him to think about… well, the two of you. 

You’ve had the ticket for months and you didn’t have the heart to miss out on the game just because of what happened. So you pulled yourself out of your depression cave, aka your old apartment you still haven’t sold since moving in with Harry and came to the game. Now you’re sitting in your usual seat, waiting for it to start while trying your best to keep him out of your thoughts at least until the end. 

Looking across the stadium you see the VIP section and immediately, you fail at not thinking about him, because you think of how he is the kind of man that would be standing there, sipping on something fancy and expensive. 

Groaning you turn your attention to your drink, playing with the straw, but then you remember the time you explained to Harry why this is your favorite seat in the stadium.

“Okay, enlighten me, baby,” he smirked at you, pulling you to his lap after pushing himself away from his desk.

“It’s close to the exit, I can leave before the crowd gets moving, the toilet is 20 seconds away and the line is always short, because the one by the F stairs is more popular. And…” You peaked at him, checking if he was still listening and there he was, giving you his undivided attention with a cheesy smirk on his handsome face. “And the drinks are better in the buffet that’s behind.”

“Better?” he chuckled. “Baby, they are the same.”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “It’s less… watery.”

“Mm, if you say so,” he smirked and then kissed you, making you forget about what you were talking about just a moment ago.

You need to blink your tears away. You promised yourself you wouldn’t be crying during this game, that you wouldn’t think about how much you miss him and how even despite the fight you love him more than anyone. 

You dig into your bag for a tissue, right when someone tries to squeeze past you to their seat. The tall man inches into the row, his long coat brushing your knees while you’re still elbow deep in your bag and you faintly register that he sits beside you. 

“Here,” he deep voice speaks up beside you and you know who it is even before his hand moves into your view, holding out a tissue. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask, taking the tissue without looking at him. 

“Why do people come to football matches?” he asks back and you can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes. “I’m here because you wouldn’t answer the phone.”

“That might mean that I don’t want to talk to you,” you casually reply, staring ahead of you.

Harry exhales sharply beside you and his knee presses against yours, making you gasp.

“Y/N, I hope you didn’t think I would just let you slip out of my hands like that, right? We need to talk.”

“And you thought a football game would be the best place for that?” 

“This seems to be the only way to get you to talk to me, so yeah.”

“How did you even know I would be sitting here?”

“Because you told me this is your favorite seat.”

“I did not. I just told you I have one, I never told you it’s this one.”

You sit in silence for a bit, trying to figure out if maybe you did tell him the exact seat, but you get to the same point: you didn’t.

“I never told you, so how did you know?” you ask and finally look at him. His beauty strikes you, as always, the chiseled jawline, the slope of his nose, the curly lashes, he still takes your breath away. 

He runs his tongue across his lips and then looks at you.

“The drink,” he then finally says.

“What?”

“The drink. It really is better here.” You watch him and he continues. “I tried… I tried them all in the stadium and it really is less watery.”

He tried them all. He went around the stadium and tried them all to figure out where you’re sitting. 

“Now that you’re listening to me, can we talk?” he then asks with a soft smile. “Or it could be just me speaking, but I really want to tell you what I’ve been thinking about the past few days.”

“Okay,” you breathe out. “Talk then.”

His gaze lingers on your face, as if he is taking in every tiny detail before speaking up again.

“I fucked up, Y/N. I said all those terrible things in the heat of the moment and I regretted them right away. I didn’t mean any of them.”

“Not even when you said that all I do is get on your nerves?” you find yourself asking.

“You do get on my nerves, Y/N,” he says and you’re just about to open your mouth, but he is quick to continue. “You make me go crazy in the best way possible. With your silly dancing in the kitchen, the way you sing every song with the wrong lyrics and swear your version is the right. When you get mad at me for using words you don’t know the meaning of, or when you put me in my place when I’m being a total ass… you make me go crazy… for you.”

Your eyes are tearing up again and when his hand moves to your knee you lean closer to him, wanting more of his touch instantly. 

“I love you, Y/N. I never thought I could love someone this much, but you just always prove me wrong,” he chuckles softly and your hand finds his on your leg, your fingers locking together. “Please come back. I’m nothing without you. Come back and get on my nerves every day because I want to be a mad man, but only if it’s you who makes me crazy.”

Now you’re fighting the urge to cry like a baby. You love this man and you can’t imagine a day when you won’t. 

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper, tears rolling down your cheeks. He reaches up and wipes them with his thumb. “I didn’t mean it when I said you must be fucking all your assistants at work.”

“That hurt,” he smiles bitterly.

“I just… I still wonder why you chose me,” you admit with a shrug. 

“Because you’re the one for me,” he simply answers, as if it was the most obvious thing ever. You take a deep breath and exhale it shakily before leaning in and kissing him. The game starts right when your lips meet, but all the screaming and clapping tunes out as you’re back in the arms of the man you love. 

“Do you want to move to the VIP section?” you ask. 

“Nope,” he smirks down at you. “This really is the best seat.”

“See? I told you!” chuckling, you just pull him in for another kiss before making yourself comfortable with his arm around your shoulders.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[kimarii-00]

Honey would please write something like when Armando left his gf she is a hacker and a weapon specialist without saying anything turned out that's not the only person he left behind. ( Tiny a baby girl who like to hold a wooden spoon ) They meet again when they going to the ammo squad in bad boys for . Her Kelly are besties . Very very angst.

(I accidentally deleted the ask, but I wrote it down before I did so above is the prompt for this, asked by anonymous)

Regrets and Punishments

❥Summary: Armando knows he made a mistake. He knew when he decided that his mother was more important than his girlfriend. But he planned to return to her, he did. He never could’ve anticipated being gone for as long as he was. Seeing her face again was like getting shot: You get that adrenaline rush, yet the pain ends up biting you in the ass later on. Especially when he discovers what, or dare I say, who he also left behind all that time ago.

❥Warnings: Slow burn, kidnapping, language

❥Word Count: 2.7k

❥Part 1/2

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AN: I’m ngl I’m not sure if you meant that you wanted them to have a kid or not, but I wrote it just in case, let me know if that's not what you wanted and I’ll rewrite it! (I also gave the kid a name)

I think I’m going to make this a two parter because I kinda took this prompt and ran with it lol

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He never thought he’d see you again. As much as he didn’t want to, he accepted the fact that he’d fucked up your relationship when he decided to leave you in favor of helping his mothers’ dirty work. He didn’t even give you so much as a call after he’d left to let you know that he was even alive. He only hoped that you were doing fine on your own.

Nonchalantly, Armando walked through the door to the house of the people Mike and Marcus knew, not giving a damn about the warning to stay outside like Mike had told him to. No wonder a gun was drawn and pointed at him as soon as he stepped foot in the home.

“Woah, woah! Kelly-” Mike began his attempt to mediate the situation, “I asked you to wait outside for a second… Alright, Kelly, he’s with us.” Standing in between the gun and his son.

“He can’t be here.” Kelly retorted, keeping her gaze on the wanted criminal standing before her.

“This is my son, Armando.”

“I know who he is and that’s why he can’t be here,” The gun never faltered as she spoke with a solid, demanding voice, “I trust you with my life, but I sure as shit don’t trust him.”

“I trust him,” Mike confirmed.

“Then take him to your house.”

Dorn cleared his throat, trying to release some of the tension that had built in the room. Armando said nothing as Dorn came over to try to calm his girlfriend, and Mike took his son to the opposite side of the room.

Marcus sat down on the couch in the middle of the room and snatched up a bag of chips, “This is some dysfunctional shit.” He said, looking back and forth between the two duos.

They came back together after a minute or two. “She’s fine,” Dorn said.

“She don’t look fine…” Marcus expressed, taking in the obvious irritation and discomfort on her face.

“I’m fine.”

“Yes, you are.” Everyone turned in the direction of Armando, where he only opened the fridge to grab a drink.

“It’s the language barrier,” Marcus explained to Dorn.

“It was English!”

“It was definitely English.”

“I have to call someone. I’ll be back,” Kelly said, picking up her phone and already beginning to dial, “If I’m going to do this I’m gonna need another girl here. She’ll be able to help with the tech stuff too.”

“Is it–” Dorn began, but cut himself off when Kelly nodded, “Tell her to leave Demi at home, we don’t know what kind of shit we’re getting into.”

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When you got the call from Kelly, you weren’t entirely sure what to make of it. She told you she needed you to come over, but when you asked her why, she only said something about “emotional support”. You’d tried to press her for more details but she only mentioned having some people over and needing your tech skills. After a while, you just decided you’d go, but not before you handled your own business.

“Demi, come here please!” You called out while folding another shirt, making a nice crease and adding it to your pile of similar neatly folded shirts.

The aggressive pitter-patter of small feet hitting your hardwood floors alerted you that the person you’d called for was on their way.

“Mama!” You felt the bed on which you were folding clothes dip a bit as a weight threw itself into the soft mattress. You smile when you set your eyes on the girl who is smiling to herself contently—your daughter.

“Mimi, mama has to leave soon,” You said as you picked her up and set her on your hip so you could continue to fold while holding your toddler, “Tiara should be here soon to look after you, okay?” You say, referring to your babysitter that you should probably be paying more considering how many times you’ve called her in the past week or so.

“Mama leaving… again?” Your heart dropped when you watched the smile fade from your daughter's face when she realized you were going to be gone and she was going to be left with the babysitter for what felt like the hundredth time. You always felt bad when things like this came up but… you couldn’t just blow Kelly off. Not after all she’s done for you.

“Yes… Mama’s leaving, I’m sorry baby but I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can okay?” You tried to cheer her up by giving her stomach a few tickles but your daughter was as stubborn as they come, her pout seemingly permanently stuck to her face.

The doorbell stole your attention and you gently set your daughter down. She followed you to the front door, and when you opened it her permanent pout was replaced with nothing but… confusion. You joined her in sporting this facial expression when you both looked at the stranger at your doorstep.

“Can I.. help you?” You ask the woman. She had a soft smile on her face, but for some reason, it didn’t seem welcoming.

“I’m your babysitter.” The woman replied.

“Um… I’m sorry there must be some mistake. My usual babysitter’s name is Tiara, I called her a while ago-”

“Tiara asked me to come here in her stead, she isn’t feeling too well, unfortunately. I’m a coworker of hers.” The woman explained, but you weren’t convinced. Tiara hadn’t mentioned any of this to you when you called her-

Just then, as you were about to make up your mind about whether or not you wanted to slam the door on the lady, you received a message from… Tiara.

3:34 Tiara (Babysitter): Hey, so sorry for the inconvenience but I’m not feeling good today, I sent over my coworker because I know you needed a sitter ASAP! Her name is Sara.

“What was your name again?” You asked, slowly taking your eyes off of your phone and to the lady, still wearing that smile on her face.

“Sara.”

You look her up and down once more before stepping to the side to let the woman inside. Your daughter hid behind and clung to your leg, only peeking out when she was sure the strange woman was not looking at her.

“Um… This is Demi,” You gesture to the girl who has glued herself to your right leg. You try to get her to say hello but she refuses. Sara stoops down to your daughter's level and tries to wave at her but Demi only scooches further out of sight. “The fridge is fully stocked, there are only a few weres, really: Don’t invite anyone else over, no drinking, oh and her bedtime is 8:30.”

“Please do not worry, I’m sure me and Demi will have a great time together.” Sara expresses, that damn smile still plastered on her face. There’s something about this lady that you just don’t like, but if Tiara sent her then it’s probably just you overreacting, right?

“Right… Could I get your phone number, just in case?” You say. She recites her number to you and you quickly enter it into your phone and save the contact, just in case of an emergency. You then turn around and kneel to look your daughter in the face.

“Be good, okay Mimi? I promise I’ll be back soon,” You say, giving her a quick peck on the forehead and a hug. She looks extremely hesitant and to be honest, so are you, but you’re already running late… “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Demi says meekly.

You smile and turn to leave.

If Tiara sent her, there shouldn’t be a problem, right?

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

You parked in front of the house that your best friend and her boyfriend lived in. You had no guesses as to why she called you here, but if your technology skills could be useful to her, you’d want to help in any way you can.

You knock on the door and after a while, Kelly answers but stops you before you can go inside. “We kind of got ourselves in some shit, we’ll fill you in.”

She grabs your wrist, pulls you inside, and closes the door shut. The first thing that you lay your eyes on is the monitors that Dorn was sifting through. Pulling up various pictures of people and files that look confidential.

Should I even be here right now…?

“What's the situation?” You ask as you move towards Dorn.

“Remember when we told you all that stuff about Captain Conrad–”

“(Name)?”

You pause when you hear your name. The voice sounds so familiar you're almost scared to turn around and see who it was that called you. You think you know who it was that called, which is probably another reason as to why it takes you so very long to fully turn and face the man that has broken your heart time and time again.

It’s like the world stopped. All of a sudden, everyone in that room except for the man in front of you was irrelevant. There were so many things you wanted to say, yet no words left your mouth.

What is he doing here?

Why is he here?

All of the emotions flowing through you quickly became too much. Without a word, your feet guided you to the nearest room in which you could be alone.

“Do yall know each other?” Mike asked, but received no answer when his son went after the girl, “Do they know each other?” He asked in a more general way, but was met with nothing. The tension silenced everyone.

You ripped your arm out of the hand that had caught it when you reached the empty room. “Get the fuck off of me! What the hell are you doing here?” You exclaimed angrily. All of a sudden, all of those feelings you felt were entirely replaced by rage. Anger, directed at the man who’d left you without a second thought.

“I–” Armando began, but was cut off.

“Y’know what, I don’t care! Get the hell out of my face!”

“(Name), wait– stop,” He said, grabbing hold of your bicep when you tried to turn away from him again.

“You have some fucking nerve!” You growled, entirely in shock of the fact that he thinks he’ll just have a nice chat with you, “I haven’t seen your ass in years! Not a fucking call, or even a damn text! Nothing!”

“I know, I know, I didn’t plan on it being like that,” he pointed out. In actuality, he had no clue or reason as to why he followed you here. He knew he fucked up their relationship and a few words wasn’t going to change that fact. So why was he so desperate to get you to hear him out? He was never like this. It’s been years, why do you still have this weird affect on him?

“Yeah? Well I never planned on being abandoned by you, but look where we fuckin’ are now. Get the hell away from me,” You seethed. He had no clue how hard you were trying not to cry, “I said get the hell off of me!”

You snatch your arm from his grip. Deep down, underneath all of the anger that had boiled up to the surface, you’d missed Armando. You really did. Dealing with the pain of losing him, and never hearing from him until, well now. Taking care of Demi–

Does he even know about Demi? Does he know he’s a…

“Guys, so sorry to interrupt but we have a problem,” Kelly announced from around a corner. You hold eye contact with Armando for a few more seconds, trying to read his face but ultimately giving up. You didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. You stomp out of the room, and he lags behind you.

Upon entering the room where everyone was gathering around Dorn and his monitors, you see he is tapped into someone's security feed, which you quickly find out is Marcus’ and Mikes’ homes where their families were. Dorn was notifying the police to send backup and you realize that there are people attempting to break into the homes. Does this have something to do with their investigation with Captain Conrad?

Mike and Marcus grab their phones and quickly make calls, telling their people to hide, and leave their houses. You watch the cameras and watch as the masked men make their way into the two guys’ respective houses.

“Fuck, fuck!” Marcus says when he watches someone from his house grab a gun from a safe and hide the rest of the family in a closet. You can only home that whoever Marcus decided to trust with his family’s safety was skilled.

Everyone watches and commentates on the man's performance in the security feed, taking down the trespassers one by one until he is able to safely transport the rest of the family out of the house, but not before saluting to the security camera for us onlookers to see.

Mike is not so lucky, as he is not able to reach his wife in time to warn her and the girl who was with her at the time. We all have to watch when she’s easily overpowered and tied up. Mike is still on the phone with her, able to hear everything that’s going on.

A sudden devious voice sounds through the phone, one that was definitely not his wife, “Mr. Lowrey.”

“Who am I speaking to?” Mike lowers his voice and says in a serious tone.

“I think you know who you’re speaking to,” the voice says ominously, “I need your boy, and whatever evidence your beloved Captain has foiled away.” You eye Armando whose eyes were flicking back and forth from the phone to Mike, “And for that, you can have your wife. I’ll call you back with instructions.”

“Ah, shit…” Mike grumbles, but the man on the other side of the phone has not yet hung up.

“Ms. (Name), I know you’re there as well.” Your heart drops to your toes. What could this man want with you? “I’d go ahead and check the security systems for your house as well.” A beep was heard as the man hung up and your eyes widened. No…

He wouldn't, right? You had nothing to do with this operation.

Nevertheless, you pushed Dorn out of the way and pulled up your homes’ cameras, and scanned for anything out of the ordinary. You spotted Demi playing with dolls in her room. The only thing was that you couldn’t spot the babysitter, but you figured she must’ve been in the bathroom.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in.

“Who’s kid is that?” Armando spoke up. You looked over but didn’t fully turn around, fearing he’d already figured it out, and just wanted clarification. You were afraid. You were afraid that if he found out, he’d come back into your life. Demi’s life. You didn’t want to get hurt again. You don’t think you could handle him leaving you again, so you stayed silent. You left the question to hang in the air.

The breath you let out was sucked back in when you saw your front door open slightly, then all the way and three masked intruders walked in. “Fuck!” You exclaimed, snatching up your phone and dialing the phone number you’d received from the new babysitter before. She answered after one ring, which you were entirely grateful for, “Sara, grab Demi and get the hell out of there, now. Please!” You frantically spew out. You’d be surprised if she caught any of that.

There was no response on the other end until Sara spoke, “There’s people in the house?” She asked, too calm for your liking.

“Yes, so grab Demi and get the fuck out of there. Take the window if you have to, they’re searching the living room right now,” You say, watching the men search the living room and kitchen, slowly making their way down the hallway which they would find your daughter.

Again, no response. That is, until the chilling words made their way into your ears. “Finally, I was wondering when they’d arrive.” And she hung up.

Your eyes were blown wide enough to where you were sure you were going to start hearing colors and seeing sounds. You were speechless and your heart was racing a mile a minute as you watched the ‘babysitter’ pick your daughter up and… deliver her to the intruders.

You could only watch, helpless as your daughter was kidnapped.

What the hell just happened?

[citricacidprince]

could you draw the courtroom scene with relativity falls? (mabels bubble)

Gladly!!! I’ve already brought up some Stan Weirdmageddon Bubble stuff here, but the equivalent of the Mabel Trial for Stan makes me wanna blow up I just adore it!!

Okay, so first things first, here’s Captain Stan’s design, my precious baby boy <3

Figured it’d be fun to mix some aspects of Grunkle Stan’s Mr. Mystery outfit with a pirate twist, just for fun!

As for the ‘trial’, its more of a argument between two boys who just WONT talk about their issues

Fiddleford, Boyish Dan, and Anjelita are also there, but Stan isn’t mad at them. In fact, he doesn’t even care that they’re breaking the rules by being there, he’s only mad at Ford. He’s mad that Ford was just going to leave him behind and send Stan back to New Jersey by himself while he stayed and studied with their Grunkle Dipper. Leaving Stan all by himself at home. Alone to deal with their father. Alone with no friends. Alone to be the family disappointment.

But no matter how mad he gets at Ford, Stan can’t ever say that he’s hates him, and Stan would give him a million chances to fix things. So, instead of immediately throwing Ford off the deck of his ship, he gives him an ultimatum. A very easy solution to all of this.

All Ford has to do is say that he’s sorry, and Stan would let him go. He won’t leave the bubble because he actually really likes it in there, but he’ll let Ford go.

This.. doesn’t end very well

Stan, absolutely heartbroken, decides to make his brother walk the plank. If he’s dead to Ford, well then Ford is dead to him as well.

However, right before his crew could push Ford into the water, something happened.

You see, when Stan unknowingly gave the rift to Bill he only had one wish. That he’d never be alone again. So when he first appeared in his bubble it was actually completely dark and empty, except for a small light glowing in his hands. It was a little version of Ford. He smiled and laughed just like he did when they were a bit younger, and he said everything Stan wanted to hear.

Very quickly Stan realized he could manipulate the bubble and create anything that he wanted, just like he could back in the Mindscape. So he created what he knew. Glass Shard Beach, New Jerseys. It was full of never ending boardwalks, houses and attractions with silly names, and that beach he loved so much. It didn’t take long after that to realize it was still quite lonely, even with Lil’ Ford (a name he lovingly gave the small version of his brother). However, he didn’t want the town to be full of faceless nobodies or people he actually knew, that’d be weird.

Then he had the genius idea to just fill the town with himself! After all, he never had to worry about himself betraying him or leaving him behind!

Soon the town was overrun with imperfect duplicates of himself and he couldn’t have been any happier.

However, the duplicates were so much like him that it soon made a new problem arise. They started asking about Ford. Like, ‘Where is he?’ ‘Can you make one?’ ‘I miss having him around.’

Stan did have Lil’ Ford hidden under his pirate hat, but he didn’t want to tell the other Stans that he was there. He didn’t know exactly why he kept Lil’ Ford hidden away. Probably a mixture of bitterness and anger still aimed at his real twin brother and a selfishness to keep Lil’ Ford to himself. So he just declared that Fords were banned altogether and left it at that.

This was a problem when right as Stanford was about to pushed off the plank, Lil’ Ford came out from under the Captain’s hat and told Stan to stop all of this.

The two bicker for a moment and some Stans ask who that is, causing Lil’ Ford to happily state that he’s Stanley’s brother, that the two are going to sail the world together, and that he loves Stan very dearly.

This doesn’t go over well with literally any of the Stan on board and it especially doesn’t go over well with Ford

The Stans pull a mutiny and try to kill Stan because they don’t think he should be Captain anymore and one of them should run the town instead.

Hard cut to Boyish Dan, Anjelita, Fiddleford, Ford, and Stan having a high speed boat chase with other Stans and popping the bubble while escaping. (I like to think Stan popped the bubble at the last second with the help of Shanklin <3 )

Stan is NOT happy about having to leave his Weirdmageddon bubble.

“You should have left me in there. I was HAPPY there.”

“Who cares if you were happy, you were living a lie! A sad delusion! You should be happy we pulled you out of there!”

Boyish Dan has it cut in before the two start fighting right then and there

Stan eventually calms down enough to decide that he’s going to save their Grunkle Dipper from Bill, but there is a thick tension between Stan and Ford that last until the huge blow out fight at the Cipher Wheel

A fight that started because Stan wanted Ford to finally say it.

‘I’m Sorry.’

[babyleostuff]

── OLYMPICS MASTERLIST

[🛹] DISCIPLINE: SKATEBOARDING

GENRE: fluff, strangers to lovers(ish), introverted reader, vernon being the greenest flag of them all PAIRING: skateboarder!vernon x athlete!fem reader WARNINGS: explicit language and a couple of sexist comments WORD COUNT: 3.1 k

“not the anti-sex beds again,” katie groaned, like it was the end of the world.   

rolling your eyes, you threw your duffle bags on the bed next to the window. though, as dramatic as she could get sometimes, and as much as you couldn’t wait for the games to begin - you were not looking towards sleeping on the cardboard monstrosities. the amount of massages you had to get four years ago because of them was not something you’d like to go through again.

“it’s not like you’re going to have sex anyway,” sam nudged katie with her shoulder and threw her own stuff on the bed next to yours.

“i’m not talking about myself, stupid,” katie said. “our friend over here,” she put her arms around you and squeezed your shoulders, “needs to get laid. she almost managed to bang that rugby dude the last time, and i can feel it in my bones,” she took a deep breath, ”she’s going to succeed this year.” 

you tried shoving her away, as sam erupted in a loud laugh. 

“hah hah, very funny,” you mumbled, and flicked katie’s forehead. “i’m here to win medals, not to find a hookup.”  

“mhm, sure,” sam said. “we’ll see about that.”

the next morning you stood up with the first rays of sunshine, a lot earlier than most people in the village, with a plan to make the most of your only day off before the eliminations. it’d get crowded quickly, so you figured it’d be nice to soak in the surroundings without hundreds of people bumping into each other. you didn’t bother to wake the girls up - you were eternally grateful you could share this amazing adventure with them, but you needed some time alone. 

besides, there was a 99% probability that sam would skin you alive if you tried cutting her beauty sleep short. 

before leaving the building, you managed, to your delight, to find the gym and the swimming pool, which surely would become really handy in a couple of days. then, you found a small farmacy a couple of blocks away, and a post office where you took a couple of pictures in a photobooth and wrote short letters to your friends at home, before throwing them into the mailbox. 

though the streets were starting to get busier and busier, because well - the athletes, their trainers, the volunteers, staff - everyone wanted to see what this year’s host had to offer, it was still pleasantly peaceful, and you could enjoy your time alone to the fullest. and apart from the cardboard beds, the village was so nice. the purple colours especially. 

just as you turned around the corner of south korea’s apartment complex, you felt and heard your tummy rumble, and thatwas your cue to find the dining hall. fortunately, it didn’t take you long. apart from the big ass signs with “dining hall”written all over them, most people that you passed were walking in one direction, which could only mean one thing.

after a short while, you entered the big room, all purple and pretty, already filled with hundreds of athletes and staff. 

scanning around the huge hall, you tried looking for someone, anyone you knew, but to no avail. most of the tables were already taken, but somehow, to your misfortune, none of them were taken by anyone from your country. you sighed and twisted the pendant hanging around your neck, trying to distract yourself from the fact that you’d be forced to sit at a table with people you did not know. 

there went your peaceful morning. 

without wasting more time, and before you’d completely spiral over the lack of familiar faces, you picked up a plate and cutlery and made your way to the queue for food, standing behind two chinese athletes. 

the line moved slowly, but you didn’t mind. as much as you weren’t particularly overjoyed with the loud noise and chaos, it was nice to do some people-watching. the different races, heights and widths, cultures, languages - all within one building - that had to be one of your favourite things about olympics. 

“isn’t that the chick kyle fucked last time?” suddenly a male voice pulled you out of your thoughts, as if your brain knew that the comment was direct to you. drowning out the noise around you, you tried your best to focus on the people behind you. 

“he didn’t fuck her, she ran away the second he touched her tits,” another guy said. “fucking prude,” he snickered. 

you felt your cheeks heat up - in embarrassment because you were right there, and they knew you could hear them, but also in anger because what they were saying was just not true. 

“i told him to go for the track runner, she had a better ass anyways,” the first guy said, as the other laughed. 

comments like these were nothing new. men like these were nothing new, but it didn’t make the ache in your chest any less painful. worst part was that you’d let them, you wouldn’t stop them - you couldn’t. anytime you tried standing up for yourself you felt at loss for words, your throat closed up, and your mind went blank. 

“excuse me, guys,” a new voice joined in. “the last time i checked this was the olympics, not who has a better ass competition.” 

you didn’t have the nerve to turn around to see who that new voice belonged to. you just clenched and unclenched your fists, trying to control your breathing. 

“also if i may suggest one thing-,” 

“you may not-,” 

“you may want to check out your own ass… or the lack of it,” you could hear the smile in his voice. 

the two guys grumbled something and left the line, but not before one of them bumped into you with too much force for it to be just an accident. muttering a curse under your breath, you massaged your slightly sore arm and prayed to whatever force for the two fuckers not to pass their eliminations. 

“are you okay?” you could feel the guy's breath on your neck. 

fuck, now you had no other choice but to acknowledge what had just happened. if it was up to you, you’d happily skip breakfast and run back to your room. who would’ve thought that the cardboard bed would be the equivalent of a safe haven. 

“uh,” you took a shaky inhale, “i’m okay.” 

“just turn around, smile politely, thank for the help, and move on,” you thought. but as you did that, your eyes went wide, and your breath hitched in your throat. 

you found a set of hazel brown eyes looking at you with curiosity and a tad of softness as if asking a silent question if you were really okay, a kind smile that managed to calm your pounding heart on its own, and cheeks dusted in a light shade of pink as if he had just finished his morning run. the guy couldn’t be much older than you and was the perfect height. you didn’t have to tilt your head in an uncomfortable way to look him in the eye, and he didn’t have to look down at you as if you were a dwarf. 

his dark brown hair was hidden under a beanie, and despite the oversized shirt and shorts, you could make out his lean build, which made him stand out from the other bulky men around. you quickly figured he was part of the us team by his outfit, but you couldn’t rack your brains around what type of sport he could be doing. 

he looked so… laid back compared to everyone around.  

“are you sure?” he asked, his gaze still attentive to you and you only. 

you nodded your head. “sorry you had to listen to that,” you said. 

“i’m sorry you had to listen to that,” the guy muttered. “you know those dudes are total douchebags, right?” annoyance flashed across his face for a second, “people like them shouldn’t even be here and-,”

“it’s okay, really,” you said with a stern voice, cutting him short. grateful - that’s what you were - and it was really nice of him to stand up for you, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling that he saw you as nothing more than a weakling that couldn’t even stand up for herself. and that had to be more embarrassing than the comments.  

he must’ve noticed your sour expression, because he quickly said, “i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“you didn’t, i… i’m sorry for snapping at you,” god, you really messed this up. this gorgeous boy just saved your ass from getting harassed, and you were acting like an ungrateful bitch. “i’m just not the best at dealing with… whatever that was,” you cleared your throat. “but thank you, it was really kind of you, and you didn’t really have to say anything, but-,” 

“but i would’ve been the biggest asshole if i hadn’t said anything,” he chuckled, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “i couldn’t just let those two fuckers say those things about you. about anyone for that matter. what kind of person would that make me?” 

you nodded, though if you had to be real - you were too distracted by his eyes to focus on what he was saying.

“okay, that sounded so pretentious,” he said, frowning, as if cringing at his own words. you couldn’t help but giggle at his expression. he looked really adorable despite his disgusted look. 

and that didn’t mean anything good. you knew yourself, and you knew how easily it was for you to fall for a person that showed you an ounce of kindness, even if they did it just because they were a good person. and that was probably what was happening now - he saw you getting harassed, he stepped in, said a couple of words, and that would be it. 

but you. you’d think about this for the rest of the olympics. about his teasing voice, the slightly curly hair coming out of his beanie, the fact that you’d never know what kind of athlete he was. the freaking hazel eyes. 

“i’m vernon, by the way,” he, or vernon, extended his hand. 

you cringed at the thought of your sweaty palms, still closed in fists. and it wasn’t like you could wipe them right in front of him. now that would just send you straight into a coma. but you took it anyway, it couldn’t get worse than the comments about your flat ass, you figured. and if he noticed he didn’t say anything, just smiled and nodded when you told him your name. 

“so, do you have any plans for today?” he asked, letting go of your hand way too soon for your liking. 

“i was planning on eating breakfast, but…,” you shrugged. 

“well, i might have an idea then,” he said, a proud smile on his face. “have you ever tried skateboarding?” 

…

you did not think this through. 

trying to skate on a wooden board with four wheels sounded kind of appealing at the moment, but now - now that you were about to actually stand on it? huh yeah, you’d rather stick to keeping your own two feet on the ground.

“it’s not going to kill you, you know?” vernon laughed, as you looked at the board in front of you with pure horror. there was no way anyone could survive skating on that thing, let alone doing tricks and flips or whatever they did with that torture device.  

“just,” he pulled the board closer to you with his foot, “lean your weight on me first and i’m going to hold you, just so you can get comfortable standing on it,” he said, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. 

would he think you were a complete loser if you ran away? maybe you could blame it on a sudden stomach bug or something. 

“mhm, yeah,” you breathed, grabbing his extended hand. “easy peasy.” 

luckly for you, the skatepark was still relatively empty since most of the village was trying to fight others in the queue for food, so the chance of you skating into someone by accident was almost non existent. but that did not change the fact that you were on the verge of a panic attack. why did you say yes to this? why did you step out of your comfort zone so easily? comfort zone was good - you loved your comfort zone. that was what kept you safe from agreeing to skateboarding on a whim. 

but it was so easy to say yes when vernon looked at you with so much kindness. you just weren’t able to decline - there was something about him that put you at ease, whether it was his voice or mannerisms - he oozed with so much calmness that even your erratic heart was screaming “say yes!” 

“put your right foot in front of the left one,” he said, still grasping your hand tightly. “and keep your knees bent, it’ll help with keeping your balance.” 

you watched him as he showed you how you were supposed to stand correctly, and tried to mirror his stance the best you could. 

“that’s perfect,” vernon said with a bright smile, as if you just won the gold medal for not falling off the board on the first occasion. “told you you’d do a great job.” 

“this is ridiculous,” you muttered, as your legs wobbled. “i’m looking worse than a baby trying to walk.” 

he rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, making you giggle. “i love your form of self motivation. now,” still holding onto you, vernon walked around the board, “uh, is it okay if i put my hand on your waist?” he asked, and your heart skipped a beat.

usually, you’d immediately say no, but… there was nothing usual about vernon as it turned out. if this was your day of breaking your walls then so be it. you nodded in agreement. “try to put your left foot on the ground and push yourself forward,” he said. 

your thin t-shirt did nothing to conceal the warmth coming from vernon’s hand, but somehow, instead of making you more nervous, it only calmed your wobbling feet and shaking hands, grounding you on the board, making it less scary by the second. you’d never met anyone before who had been so gentle with you, so patient and understanding so quickly. 

“like this?” you took your left foot off the skateboard, but before it could reach the ground you wobbled backwards. “vernon!” you shrieked, ready to fall ass first on the asphalt, but that never happened. your back met his solid chest before you could move more than an inch. 

“‘s okay,” he said, gripping your waist tighter. “i’m right here.” 

you breathed a sigh of relief. “i don’t think this is a good idea,” you looked over your shoulder at him. “what if i break your board?” 

“i have ten others,” he stated as a matter of fact, not bothered at all even if you actually broke his board. “try again, i’ve got you.” 

the next try went a little bit better, at least you managed to put your foot down without bumping into him again.

“okay, now push yourself forward.” 

“just… don’t let go, okay?” 

“i won’t,” vernon said. you could feel him so close to you, his breath creeping down your neck. “i won’t.” 

you never thought you’d feel so accomplished by such a simple thing, you were a gold winning athlete for god’s sake, but when you finally moved, when the board skated forward and you were still standing on it - you felt a flicker of pride settle in your chest.  

“that’s it,” vernon said, giving your hand a squeeze. “you’re doing great. try doing that again.” 

and so you did just that. you pushed yourself forward, again and again, until your feet weren’t wobbling at all, and your moves were getting more confident.

“i’m doing it, i’m…,” you laughed, “vernon, i’m skateboarding,” you said, pushing once more. 

“yes, you are!” 

wait. why was his voice so distant? 

that’s when you realised you couldn’t feel his hand on your waist anymore, nor were your fingers intertwined with his. 

“vernon?” you asked, alarmed. 

“just don’t turn around-,” 

but it was too late. you took a look behind you to see vernon standing a couple of metres behind you, and that was enough to lose all of the balance, all of the control. 

“shit,” you heard him scream, right before you closed your eyes shut, readying yourself for the impact. 

the board flew forward as you slipped backwards, your hands flying to your slides trying to hold onto something. but there was nothing, just air. 

but then - the strong grip, the warm embrace, the hands that you trusted so much - you could feel him all around you. no pain, no broken bones - just vernon. 

“shit, i’m so sorry,” he said, still holding onto you. “i shouldn’t have let you go.” 

gently, he helped you sit on the ground, his eyes scanning all over your body, looking for any injuries. 

“it’s fine, i just panicked,” you said, and put your hand on his shoulder, pulling his gaze back to your eyes. “seriously, it was actually quite fun.” 

at that, vernon’s expression softened a bit, and after a second he even flashed you a smile. 

“that’s good, that’s…,” he exhaled. “that’s a lot for one morning i think.” 

you laughed, and shook your head. “yeah, i think you’re right. but you know,” you looked over at the board that was still rolling on its own. “i think i’ll stick to watching you skate. i don’t think i’m built for this.” 

his body shook with a silent giggle. “i’m still proud of you.”

“thank you,” you said quietly. and you truly meant it - not only for catching you, or trying to teach you how to skate - but for standing up for you when he could just ignore it and move on with his day, for pulling you out of your little safe bubble. that thank you meant a lot of things and you hoped that vernon knew that. 

“were you serious, though?” 

you frowned, not really sure what he ment. 

“that you want to watch me skate?”. 

any other day you’d say no, but… 

“yes. i’d really love to.” 

a beautiful smile bloomed on vernon’s face, and you knew right there and then that the feeling of gratitude was forming into something more than just that. 

“my eliminations are in two days, uh and maybe, only if you want, you could come?” 

you nodded eagerly. at this point you weren’t sure you were able to tell this man no at all. 

and you couldn’t wait to see where that would get you. 

[cherry-pop-elf]

Honey, I’m Home-!

Sirius Black x Mom! Reader

Ever since Sirius was sent to Azkaban, you were the one in charge of raising Harry. Doing your best, and lucky to have Remus to help. Because of that, a certain Rat wasn’t able to avoid any of your gazes. When Harry’s third year came to a end, you were given quite a surprise at the train station

Warnings 18+, P in V, Female Reader, high emotions, hurt comfort, fluffy and heated sex, getting back together, implied breeding kink, taking care of your man with baths food and you, sir this bed is about to be destroyed with how hard he’s going to rail you. Also, implied Wolfstar/ Remus x You/Poly situation deal up in here hehehehe

“Harry-!” You called, with a smile. Always there to pick him up from the station, every single time. As a good parent would. Ever since you found out he had such a risk to end up at the Dursleys, like hell you would let that happen. Made you pamper him a bit, given your good friends lost their lives for him. But like hell he didn’t deserve it.

“Shhh shh-!” Harry was soon hushing his friends, leaving you confused. Hermione and Ron quick to hush up, while Remus would set the last of the bags off the train. Wanting to help out, since there were so many Weasleys to worry about. The way he smiled, you were even more curious. You couldn’t recall the last time he looked so relieved. Was there a change in laws that permitted him to work at Hogwarts?

“Children, settle down. Settle down. Go on and show her the surprise.” He teases them, as he would help Molly with the rest of the Weasleys. He threw you a wink, which had you very confused. Not what did that Marauder have in mind this time?

“Mum…..Can we get a dog?” Harry asked you, as the trio stood next to each other. With cuts and bruises all over, but smiling. Even Ron seemed chipper, despite the fact he was in crutch. The hell did those three get into this time?

“A dog-? Harry….You know why we can’t get a dog.” You sighed, not wanting to have this discussion again. With out Sirius, you just couldn’t. Any dog was to painful of a reminder. Oh how you miss your padfoot. What you would give to see him again.

“Mum, please? He’s got no where else to go. Just look at him-“ Harry pleaded, as the trio stepped aside. The dog now exposed to you. Was so painfully skinny, yet also so furry at the same time. Matted fur, and just looking like a grim. He looked so much like Sirius, but so dead as well. Your heart just couldn’t say no this time.

The defeated sigh had them cheer, as Remus returned. Still giving you this coy smile, that had you furrow your brows. You felt like you were missing something, but you didn’t know what. You just knew that it was time to take everyone home.

With Harry hugging his friends goodbye, while this new dog stuck close to your legs, Remus would catch up quickly with Molly. Explaining something. You swore it was about Scabbers, but the new playmate was keeping your attention. Suddenly jumping on you, and licking your face.

“ACK-! HEEL HEEL-!” You called, as the dog was just to strong. How was something so fragile so durable? Reminded you of Sirius. How even in his dog form he was able to tackle people down. Was just making your heart hurt more, which in a morbid sense made you unable to refuse the dog either.

“Mum, Uncle Remus said you should head home with our new dog. He needs me to stay here and catch Mrs. Weasley up on stuff.” The way he fidgeted with his glasses told you it was a mixture of a lie and some truths. What the hell were these people planning? Was this some scheme to help you move on? Accept Sirius was never coming back? That hurt, but also a point was made. Who can escape Azkaban?

“Alright. But be home before dark.” You warned, as you kissed his forehead. Right on his scar, which made him smile. He made sure to give you a hug, before quickly returning to the red heads. Poor Molly looked ready to faint. Make that she did, and the twins had to catch her. Yeah, like hell you wanted to be involved with that.

“Alright, let’s-“ But the dog was running. Right through the wall, with no hesitation. You were flabbergasted, but had no time to think. Harry’s new dog was running off. No way you wanted his poor heart broken over that. So, you ran after it. Trying to catch up, but it seemed high on life.

“GET BACK HERE-!” You hollered, as the dog was running like it was the last thing it could ever do. You were so focused on trying to catch up to it, you barely noticed where you were running towards. By the time you finally caught up, you were wheezing. Hands on your knees, as the door the dog stopped at opened.

“About time Master and Mistress Black returned.” Kreacher sneered, as the dog hurried inside. Did he say what you think he said? No way. That can’t be Sirius. No way in hell. Looks like him, but he’s in Azkaban. You don’t just escape Azkaban. Sure, the daily prophet said he did. But it was more than likely gossip gone wild. You swore every week they said someone did, only for them to be returned the next day.

“Kreacher, phew, give me a minute here.” You coughed, as you stumbled inside. Left for the building to vanish, in the early morning fog. As if it was never there. Leaving you to be alone, with the elf and dog, as you hung up your coat.

You did your best with making the home more live able. The spare rooms built for whenever Harry wanted friends over for the summers. Along with just a safe haven for friends in need of a stay. You turned what was once a cage, into a proper home. Seemed the dog loved it, as it was quick to run up the stairs. Bolting past the curtained painting, and straight to your bedroom.

“How does it….No. no this can’t be. No way…” It was starting to become harder to deny, as you walked up the stairs. By the time you reached the door, you heard it. That familiar eerie bone cracking, when a animagus was changing forms. No way. It couldn’t be. It can’t-

“Home sweet home-“ That gruff voice sung to you, as you opened the door. There he was. Your husband. Your world. Your everything. Standing there, bending his back, as he sported a tattered Azkaban uniform. Bloody, dirty, hardly clothing at all. Hair a mangled mess, and in desempate need of a bath and shave. He was so sickly thin, the very thin fabric was just a sheet on him. Hardly could process it, when those dark eyes locked on yours. Hair so long now, and body tattered. No matter the design, it was still him. Your Sirius.

“Hardly changed a day…” He dreamily said, with that exhausted smile. He was so drained, but you could still see the pure joy in his eyes. He was home. He was with you, and could be there for Harry now. His best friend Remus was in his life again. He’s not in that damn prison, and he’s in your sight once more.

You didn’t care about the grime, as you practically fell into his arms. Sobbing in joy, as he held you close. Despite his thinner structure, he was able to hold you tightly. As tightly as he could, and sway with you. No need for words. Just gentle tears.

That was why Remus was so coy, and why Harry had you two run off. You two needed time to reconnect. Even so young, Harry could grasp how important this was. Guess you were rasing him right. Seemed also that Kreacher might have missed Sirius as well, because you could hear a bath being run. No one asked for it, but he did it. His own free choice. He missed him, in his own way.

“Darling, I love you so much. I really do, but I am so fucking gross right now. You know I’m being honest when even I’m unable to handle my own stink. I’ve had sex with Moony under a full moon. I’m GROSS gross right now. I will kill for a bath-“ He went on, making you just laugh with your tears. Despite the years in such a horrific prison, he was still himself. Guess he was always a little insane.

You didn’t let him go an inch, as you trailed after him to the bathroom. More than happy to help him wash. Just enjoying the needed intimate moment. Just a wife, washing her husband. By god was he filthy. By the time Harry and Remus returned, he was finally drying off. You had no idea if the bathtub will ever recover. Least he was now in his favorite black robe.

“I’ve got dinner handled, don’t worry-!” Remus called, as Sirius would come down the stairs with you. Unable to let go of his arm, and he hardly complained. He missed your touch all the same, as you two would enter the dinning room. Where Harry sat.

“Guess we better start from the beginning.” Harry murmured. You had already gotten used to your son’s insane adventures, but this one took the cake. He got his god father out of Azkaban, somehow-? Yeah, you were sitting down for this. Mindlessly playing with the exposed chest hair you could grab, as the trio of misfits began to explain.

Even while eating, more like Sirius devouring anything in sight, there was so much to discuss. Was mostly Remus, and Harry, speaking. Given Sirius was more so busy hiding during that time frame. Oh how your heart had broken, and repaired, over and over from it all. Your poor husband. But, he’s back now. He’s back, and he’s never leaving you again.

“I know you are my god father and all, but….Do I call you dad now-?” Harry asked. He’s thirteen, still a child after all. It’s going to be a lot to process, even by Wizard standards. With his meal finished, Sirius did have to think a moment. Dispite the fact Harry knew Sirius from stories, because of you and Remus, he was still a stranger after all.

“Uncle Padfoot will work just fine.” He smiled, as he ruffled Harry’s hair. That made the young teen give an awkward grin, as there was something to work with now. Uncle Moony and Uncle Padfoot. It’s a start, and you couldn’t be happier. Just staring with such love to him, with your head on his shoulder. Taking in that scent, as Remus was unable to stop his smile to.

“Harry, dear, why don’t we go out for a walk. Hm?” Remus asked him, making the boy raise a brow. Why would he want to….Oh. Right. Remus would give a gentle head nudge towards the door, and Harry was quick to get the message. Grabbing his jacket, wand, and chasing after his uncle. Not wanting to say another word, as he really rather not think about his mother’s sex life. Even if it’s with his god father.

The second the door closed, you were yanked from your chair. You gave a squeak, as you were tossed over his shoulder. Just like the old days at school. Whenever he wanted your attention, he simply tossed you over his shoulder. Forcing you to pay attention to him, as he would steal you to a private room for a discussion.

“I’m not letting you out of that bed until the head board breaks-“ He warned, as that had your heart racing. Twelve years is a long time, and there was most certainly some catching up to do. You couldn’t deny that, as you watch the stairs trail behind him. Escorting you to your once shared bedroom. Now together again.

You were plopped right on the bed, and he was on you like the hungry dog he was. Stealing you into his lips, and you couldn’t stop your moaning. It had been so long. You needed him as badly as he needed you. How you were enjoying the new long hair, and tangling your fingers into it. Needing as much skin as you could get from him.

He was more than happy to give it to you. The robe thrown aside, as he was pulling at your clothes. Not giving damn if they tore. Nothing else mattered in this moment. He wanted to fuck his wife, and by god was he going to. Twelve years, in Azkaban. He’s going to get all twelve years of pent up desire out in one night. Will your body recover? Do you even care?

“Sirius-“ You sighed, as he finally got your top off. His face buried into your chest, as he snapped your bra strap off. Tossing it aside, as he drank you up. Just feeling your skin on his, and savoring the long missed flesh against his bearded face. Feeling that freshly softened hair on your chest felt so good. Every single fiber of your existence was on fire. Felt like you might implode.

“Not a day passed by, that I wasn’t thinking of you. You, Remus, Harry, you three were what kept me sane. I knew you three were safe with each other. Waiting for me. I came back. I came back, like I promised.” He sighed, as you felt the tears on your chest. Gentle fingers played with his hair, as to try and calm him down. Comforting him.

“I always knew you would.” You felt so silly thinking Remus would ever try and help you move on. Hypocrite he would have been. Human emotions be human emotions, and they were being carnal right now. Needing to burn and burn and burn.

“Have me again, like you’ve had me before.” You asked him, as you cupped his face. Having that thick beard nuzzle into your palm, as those dark eyes stared up to yours. So much pain in his face, but comfort in his eyes. It’s a long journey to recover, but his soul was still there. His body is damaged, but a body can repair. A mind is harder, and that was the battle. A battle he won.

With a kiss to your palm, he would soon attack your lips. Growling into you, as he pulled away the rest of your clothes. Needing to devour your body. Soon marking away at your neck, your chest, your arms. If there was anything his lips could grasp, and making sure you were marked. As if to remind the world you belonged to him, and he wasn’t going anywhere. Not anymore.

“Sirius, how can you still be such a tease?” You whined, as he was grazing his teeth over your thigh. Leaving a bite on your flesh. Letting himself enjoy the flavor of the tingling flesh under his tongue.

“What? I’m an old dog. Old dogs have bad habits.” He teased, before he finally allowed you to get some attention. He really didn’t change, and you were shocked. Never thought being abused could be useful. Only a Black would have such a morbid survival skill.

Before any more depressing thoughts could fill your head, you were able to enjoy the familiar sight. Your husband between your legs, with his cock rubbing against you. The tip of his cock coming into view, whenever he rolled his hips up and down. Rubbing right on your clit, and making you whimper. Sure you’ve played with yourself, but nothing beats his touch.

You both were gripping tightly. Him on your thighs, while you grabbed his shoulders. Needing to feel him in your hands. You both needed it so badly, but both held a near fear. As if afraid that it was all a dream. Luckily, he had the nerve to test that fear. Test it, as he finally pushed in.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this-“ He moaned, as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. The way he growled, and his body just shivered. Aching, and moaning. Might spill just then, if he didn’t stop. Just savoring the feeling of being back inside of you, and how your eyes watered from pure comfort. To have your husband back.

He would lean down, and kiss away your tears, before he allowed himself to move. Just moaning for you, as his nails dug into your flesh. Marking you more, as you moaned into each others mouths. Needing to drink in every last thing you both could offer. So much to catch up on, and to make up for.

With the tender moment passing, you were soon reminded of the wild man you married. The feeling of your legs being pushed towards your shoulders, as he tried to get into you deeper. With his hands now on your ankles, as he was snapping his hips into yours. Needing to make sure you felt ever inch of him.

You loved it, and missed it, all. The feeling of your arms around his neck, and tangling your fingers into his hair. How he growled into you, and the snarls. Oh how you loved how animalistic he was for you. How he would bark and howl at the beg and call to you. Your big bad wolf.

It was all you missed. Had you in a mixture of tears, and pure desire. How he wanted to fight your tears, and kissed you. As heated as he could, to make up for the years parted. To taste you, and savor you all over again. Just the sounds of your moans, the creaking bed, and the flesh on flesh.

You didn’t know how long it lasted, but you felt him pull your lip. Sinking his teeth into it. A typical sign that he was close. A need to ground himself, to last a little longer. Oh how you missed his little habits. That thrill of pain again sent you over, as you came with him. To be as connected as possible.

You expected to get a moment to savor the after glow, but he kept true to his word. You were soon tossed onto your stomach, with the ass in the air. Of course he wanted doggy. It’s cheesey, but a favorite. Suppose one more round could be mustered.

One more became two, and three, and soon you had to chug a Pepper Up potion to keep up. You lost track of the rounds, before you were laid on your back. Soaked in sweat, and sticky from it all. Sheets hardly on the bed, and you were certain there were cracks in the wood. Hardly could breathe, but it seemed he was satisfied.

“Pretty sure you fucked a dozen kids into me.” You wheezed, as he chuckled. Enjoying a much needed cigarette, but still making sure you were comforted. Having your head in his lap, as he played with your face. Admiring all your features.

“Good.” He snickered, as you swatted at his hand. The both of you able to share a laugh, as there was a soft knock at the door. All Sirius had to do was give a sniff in the air, and he knew who it was. A whistle was given, before he grabbed a pillow for you. So you could cover up, despite the fact Remus has certainly saw you naked many times.

“Feeling better now-? Could have used a silencing charm. Had to tell Harry Kreacher was fixing a wardrobe.” Remus scoffed, with a tray of needed drinks and snacks. He would set it down on the bed side table, before joining on the bed. He deserved to catch up with Sirius to. Fine by you.

With some shifting, you were soon snuggled between the two men. Sirius still playing with your hair, as the two men remained sitting up. Keeping their voices low, so you could drift. Just able to be safe, and warm, again. Snuggling your husband, and comforted by the sound of old memories.

What a wonderful lullaby.

[ruoshik0]

DP x DC: The al Ghul twins but with a twist! P2!!

Training, as it had always been, was tiring. Add on the fact that now, he was at least a meta-adjacent, his training regime was updated to accomadate that too. Which is annoying.

Actually, Danyal meant he hated his life in the League of Assassins. Relearning all he did back when he was a child, training like a madman and rekindling his ‘kill as fast as possible’ style of fighting, manipulating and experimenting with the Lazarus waters (It stunk. It stunk so much that Danny just couldn’t even be in the same room as it. Ugh, why was his life so fucking hard), and tinkering and engineering with gadgets whenever possible.

Danyal realizes just how much he had it easy back in Amity. The amount of free time he had, how much fun just letting lose and have nice kiddy brawl with ghosts, puns and snark, and… acting.

It had been a months since he returned. Only about few days till his seventeenth birthday. The day he plans on meeting his brother’s new family and Damian himself. In those months, he had stopped denying, letting himself acknowledge that yes, he did start caring. And he had started caring too much. It’s been a pain the unlearn all of it. And as much as he was Danyal, he was also Danny just as much.

He can be serious when he wants to be. But sometimes, an easygoing smile and mischievous glint in his eyes felt… better. It felt like he was normal again.

Normal felt more like home than whatever he had been before that.

Now, graduating from tutors and what was basically the league’s version of homeschool- he is very smart thank you, it’s just that Danny wasn’t supposed be as smart- his schedule had opened up significantly.

Which meant more training and now, lessons on business and how to deal with people and stuff related to leading the League and shit.

And perhaps this is also the best time to mention this. His coronation or something had been… delayed. Seeing as he was away doing a covert mission, meaning his education in the league was far behind. Which aslo meant, time is no longer a resource he has an abundance of.

Someone please kill him all the way. Paperwork as a monarch in the infinite realms is so much better than whatever the fuck he is going to learn in the aforementioned business shit and how to rule assassin cults. Scratch that- paperwork as a monarch so much better than the League itself. Why didn’t he kidnap Sam and Tuck with him when he returned?!

Danyal felt like crying… jokingly, though. Taking them here would just result in them getting killed or them getting forced to become assassins themselves.

Sighing, he resumed tinkering with the fun little gun he had been working on since last week.

He just hopes he would be able to say what he wanted to Damian… (and of course, terrorrize Batman and his army of children! It’s gonna be so fun!)

Invisibility and intangibility together was already a deadly match up to any living being. Which is the reason why literally no one at the dining table could notice him next to the big bat himself (Though Danny was pretty sure Signal- Duke Thomas- was sweating because of him. So… he could see his aura even if Danny was invisible).

Danyal had to say, he didn’t have any plan in his mind. Mostly because Danny didn’t plan and Danyal had grown used to not really having that in his head. He considered just leaving Damian an encrypted letter, but really, where’s the fun in that? (Danyal prioritized efficiency first and foremost. It seems everyone he met and befriended back in Amity had more influence on him than he thought)

So now, he was left debating whether or not he should just appear standing on the table doing jazz hands. He would most definately get killed by one of them if Danyal does that. But dying works in his situation.

It wouldn’t make him cool though… Then, an idea struck in his head. What if…

Damian, all things considered, was having a good time. His birthday was going great even. It’s just that at times, his mind would wander back to the sibling he had left behind. Sometimes, he would wonder if Danyal had returned from his mission. Or if he decided he wanted to live there- in Amity park- for the rest of his life.

Damian hopes he did.

He knows that nowadays, he couldn’t stand to see an indifferent expression and an emotionless stare on Danyal’s face. Because nowadays, his own semi-permanent scowl had melted into something else. Something less haunted. He couldn’t face that he went on to live his best life while leaving Danyal all the responsibilities Damian was supposed to shoulder.

So it was a pleasent surprise when he realized that the Danyal in front of him- the intruder who infiltrated the manor, who appeared out of nowhere next to father, who has a handful of father’s hair in his fist, who had, also, pulled father’s head back harshly (Damian almost wondered of Danyal was here to take him and the rest of the Bats to the other side)- was smiling. Smiling like he was here to torture them and have fun while doing that but… for once, Danyal was smiling. Openly.

The Bats didn’t even take a second to stand up and immediately engage in combat with the intruder. If it had been anyone else, facing almost all of the Bats at the same time would have been a death sentence.

Yet, in Damian’s eyes, Danyal almost looked like he was having fun. Easygoing smile, the mirth, the- the everything. It just screamed relaxed and having fun. Despite himself, Damian didn’t actually get up from his seat. He observed the person flinging his siblings into walls. He observed his actual brother.

Kick, dodge, punch, open palm strike, a tornado kick, flinging father to the wall this time, using Brown as a meat shield before tossing her towards Cain.

Unlike what he was so sure of, Danyal wasn’t here to assassinate the Waynes. He, at most, was here to have a good brawl. But that didn’t make sense. It really didn’t. Why was Danyal here? Why did he make himself known? No one came after Damian to take him back after the first few assassins because there was still an heir. A spare who blended in with the shadows better than even father. As far as he was concerned, Danyal had only gotten at hiding better at hiding. So why? It was all confusing and it made Damian angry and he just wanted answers and what else was he supposed to do? Damian did the only thing that came to mind.

He screamed for everything to stop. He slammed the table and sent a League worthy glare towards his family. All of them. Which included Danyal and father and Alfred and- everyone.

(Damian will not admit to being nervous. No never.)

They had listened. Everyone freezing in their spot as they all stared at Damian with shock. They would have died by now if Danyal decided to take advantage of that. The rest becoming aware of their mistake and sending weary glances toward their opponent. Not that Damian cares much about that currently.

“Danyal. Explain why you are here.” His voice was low and rough. It was a tone he only used in the early months of his arival here. A tone the League forced him to talk in.

Currently he needed answers and asking directly always worked. He was extra cautious in not letting anything known. While he hated to hide himself from Danyal, he didn���t know the Danyal in front of him well enough and any show of to a League assassin meant death. A gruesome one.

And really, he expected many things in response. A harsh laugh in his face or the ever present indifference that plagued Danyal when he was young. Maybe even immediately getting maimed by his beloved brother. A brother who was supposed to protect him from the shadows.

What he didn’t dare expect (yet still hoped for) was Danyal’s face and stance and the way he held himself- all visibly softening. A smile that seemed so geniune, something Damian never saw himself, something looked so foreign on the face he and Danyal shared.

“I’m here to congratulate you, akhi" And the tone he heard, it made his eyes burn. Danyals voice had lost its harshness. It had different tones- so unlike the emotionless monotoneous voice he always heard. It had all the gentleness of of the world. And Damian dared to hope. Hope that Danyal is free from the League like he was too. He really did. Because by now, he had thick and big tears tailong down his cheeks. His eyes burned.

And he was finally happy. Happy to have finally gotten his sibling back. The one before Danyal encased himself in harsh cold ice seemingly over night one day. Damian finally felt like he got his sibling back.

Danyal was now fretting over him, expressive in a way Damian hadn’t seen in more than a decade. Danyal was a phenomenal actor. And his cold hard demeanor was a facade Damian had witnessed getting built. Finally it had all melted away. Finally he can hug his brother tightly and say all the things he hesitated to say.

Finally, they can be regular brothers now.

In the back if mind, he noted that his father and family was sending confused glances to each other. He couldn’t care less about that.



[thatlittlered]

time warp | aaron hotchner

warning(s): none, just hotch being delicious

GIF by @katebeckets

part one

author's note: I have never updated a story this fast in my life. Another part is coming tomorrow.

Follow me @MadeofLilies on Ao3 and let me know if you want to be tagged here.

-.-.-

The door to his office is open, chatter from the bullpen reaching him when you all get too loud. He can tell Morgan is pestering you about something and the others have gathered around to listen.

“You only have one watch?”

“How many watches do other people have? You act like it’s insane.”

Spencer, like always, feels the need to interject, “I have three.”

You sigh, abandoning your pen and notes.

“I have another one but that’s my grandmother’s, I can’t wear it to work.”

Derek is not satisfied with your answer.

“You have a thousand pieces of jewelry.”

“I know!”

“You are wearing most of them right now.”

“I know, Morgan, you can stop bullying me now.” You pout at him and he pouts back, but his grin is indicator enough that he’s not even close to finished with you.

“Where do you even spend your paychecks, sweetheart?”

“Important stuff. Like shoes.”

“I only have one pair of shoes aside of my trainers.”

Emily laughs, “Yeah, we know that, Spence. Their time is coming to an end, by the way.”

Morgan zeroes in on you again, poking a finger into your knee to get a reaction.

“How many pairs of shoes do you have exactly? Fifteen? Twenty?”

“They were twenty… at some point.”

Triumph.

You almost can’t stand his shit-eating grin.

“There you go. Too bad you don’t get to wear them here.”

“Where do you spend yours? A lifetime’s supply of V-necks at GAP?”

You stand up from your chair, eager to get away from this conversation.

“You’re only mean to me because you know I’ll love you anyway.”  

“Maybe.”

He puts his hand over his heart in feign hurt. Garcia mutters something about a woman’s right to shoes in your defense and you kiss her cheek to thank her on your way to the kitchenette. Aaron still watches from his seat and squirms uncomfortably when he sees Morgan follow you.

You take his mug and pour you both some coffee while he takes a seat, thanking you. You don’t even see Hotch come in.

“Did your watch get lost?”

You almost spill your coffee at the baritone of his voice. Everything he says comes out so official, so professional, as if speaking orders, but not at that beach under the sunrise. Who was he then?

“Yes, it did. Totally on its own and not because I keep leaving my stuff in random places and not looking after them properly.”

“Maybe that’s why you spend so much on stuff, if you keep losing them.”

You quirk a brow at Derek, leaning over him menacingly from your position.

“I swear to God, Morgan, this might be the day you officially lose my affection.”

He takes the cup you’ve poured for him from your hand and slowly walks backwards in resignation.

“No, please, I didn’t mean it.”

You smile at each other and you point a finger at him. Hotch watches with a frown.

“Tread lightly.”

When Morgan’s gone, he can finally step closer to you. Getting to the coffee machine is only the excuse.

“You know, you’re really good at keeping him in check. Maybe you should be in charge here.”

You smile into your cup, “That’s alright, we already have a boss and he’s okay.”

“Oh, is he? Good to know, I can’t wait to have that all over my evaluation files next year.”

You nod. The fabric of his suit jacket brushes against your arm while he pours.

“Some might even use the words ‘pretty good’.”

He hums, “So eloquent.”

Your smile deepens, nose wrinkling upwards in a way that now really can’t be hidden in your cup.

-.-.-

It’s almost time for everyone to head home and for once, he’s trying really hard to make it out of the office before sundown; maybe spend some quality time with Jack.

There’s a knock on his door before it opens and he’s about to send whoever it is away but-

“Hi, sorry, am I interrupting?”

He looks up, uncharacteristically disoriented.

“Uh, no-no, come in.”

“Are you coming to Rossi’s tonight?”

He’s dumbfounded.

“I’m not really sure yet, I have some errands to run when I’m done here.”

“Oh, okay… I just found some old Marvel comics and I thought Jack might like to have them, but I didn’t bring them with me. Maybe I could give them to you tonight? That is, if you make it.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Do you mind?”

“No, of course not, I just-”, he exhales, “I’ll be there.”

You smile and nod, ready to leave.

“Maybe I could give you a ride and you can give them to me then. I mean,” his thumb scratches his bottom lip uncomfortably, “your place is practically on the way.”

“Have you ever been to my place?”

Aaron laughs awkwardly, “No.”

“But you seem to know what you’re talking about, so I’m going to put my faith in you. Pick me up at seven?”

“That works.”

-.-.-

It’s not even half past six when he rings your doorbell and you open the door still clad in pjs.

“You are so early.”

Hotch suddenly looks so small for such a usually imposing man. He stands in your doorway with nervous hands in his pockets and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him act like this before.

“I’m sorry, I can wait in the car if you’d like.”

“No, it’s okay, come in. I think I knew deep down that you would be; just not by this much.”

 He clears his throat and moves inside to now stand awkwardly at the apartment’s entrance, “I’m sorry, I started way too early from my house. Overestimated how long it would take to get here.”

Your interactions do something to warp his sense of time.

“That’s okay, Aaron, really. You’re just going to have to give me a few minutes because I haven’t had the time to get ready yet.”

He watches, frozen in his place, while you walk towards the kitchen.

“Do you need anything? Coffee, orange juice?”

He almost smiles to himself. He just knew you’d be the type of person to always keep the fridge fully stocked even if you’re barely ever home. He likes the confirmation that he knows you, despite his inability to really make conversation and establish familiarity. He grasps at straws; little pieces of you that he sometimes finds and keeps them close to his heart.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

You still bring him a glass of water, freezing cold, just like he likes it, and rest it on the coffee table.

“You can sit, if you want.”

“Right.”

He smiles and sits almost robotically. When he picks up the glass, he softly wipes the ring of water that’s formed underneath with his hand but you don’t see it.

“Let me just grab the box.”

“It’s a whole box?”

“Yeah, I got it at a yard sale.”

“You bought it? You really didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, now that him and I are officially friends I have to do something to maintain the relationship, seeing how I never actually get to see him.” You sit beside him while he looks through the various issues. There have to be at least fifteen in here.

“Yeah, neither do I,” he really appreciates the comforting hand on his shoulder, “This was very nice of you to do, thank you.”

You smile and nod at him.

“Actually, I also have something I wanted to give you; I just need to get it from the car.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, give me a moment, will you?”

He’s out and back in a second. Practically runs back into your apartment when you open the door; a small gift bag in hand.

“I would have brought in with me, but I chickened out at the last minute.”

His fingers linger when he hands it to you. It’s almost a caress in passing.

“You got me something?”

It’s a digital watch, neatly sat on soft velvet.

Was that the errand he had to run?

“Oh, Hotch, thank you so much, but you really shouldn’t have. I know I joked around today, but I would have actually gotten around to getting one. I am not that financially irresponsible.”

“It’s nothing really, it’s not an expensive watch.”

“Oh, okay, as long as it’s the cheap, trashy stuff. Phew.”

He laughs and you realize you’re both standing in your doorway again.

“I just wanted to do something nice.”

“You’re nice to me all the time.”

His brows furrow, “It doesn’t feel like I am.”

“It must come easy then.”

“It does with you.”

He meets your gaze and you stay there for a while.

“Can you help me try it on?”

“Of course.”

He clasps it high on your wrist, just like he’s seen you wear the previous one. The color matches your jewelry and it’s excruciatingly sweet just how much attention he pays to details.

“I just wanted to thank you, I suppose, for the other day. It meant a lot to me.”

Aaron’s hand doesn’t leave your arm, instead wraps gently around it instead, as if one of your bracelets.

“It meant a lot to me too.”

His breathing is heavy, his voice barely a whisper. What you are doing feels like a secret; like it’s meant to be hidden from the rest of the world.

“I’m not sure you mean that in the same way that I do.”

Your other hand comes to rest on top of his, thumb passing softly over protruding veins and scars. He thinks, for a moment, it might wipe them away.

“Then you’re not the people expert that you think you are.”

His laugh is heartbreaking.

“Guess I’m not very good at that either.”

You hum, “You’re okay.”

Neither of you is moving but it feels like you’re getting closer.

“So eloquent again.”

You can’t help but beam with pride at how comfortable he’s getting with your banter. A whole world unlocked and open for you to see. His body is drawn to you, almost folds over and around you to be closer. As close as he can possibly get without touching you more.

“It’s the worst moment possible now, when you’ve just given me a gift and picked me up from my place, but I think it deserves to be said that I would very much like to be kissed by you.”

His eyes flutter close.

“It really is the worst moment possible,” his hand slides slowly from your wrist to elbow, taking in the feeling of bare skin, “but I would very much like to kiss you.”

“But you won’t.”

His hand stops traveling up your arm, drops back onto your wrist and without really meaning to, pulls you closer.

“No.”

You stay like this for a while. Nothing but soft breathing to be heard in the room.

“I should probably go.”

You look up in surprise, “Are you not coming with me?”

“I’m sorry, I just…” he touches the inside of your palm and traces the lines as if to remember them, “I wouldn't know what to say or do after this.”

You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“It’s alright, I understand… I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The loss of his touch is like a sudden drop in the temperature around you. You both feel it.

He doesn’t meet your gaze again, simply gathers the box and clears his throat as if that will magically return him to what he’s used to being.

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

You see him press his lips together before he turns to leave.

When you get to Rossi’s, the team is disappointed to know he’s not coming after all, but they’re not surprised. JJ asks you about the new watch and you lie. You can tell Emily is not convinced but she doesn’t say anything about it, merely smiles at you and inches closer with her chair.

Aaron spends another night alone. Jack is at a sleepover with a friend that he didn’t have the heart to pick him up from all of the sudden.

That’s the cost of being a stone, he supposes.

part three

[star-wrote]

Vibe

ao3 link

Characters: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader | Pre-Saviors Alexandria Era

Summary: Daryl Dixon went on a run to scavenge for supplies, but came back with vibrators instead.

Warnings: typical TWD violence, threats, guns, vibrators, smut, oral(fem!receiving), slightly comedic, idiots in love, fluffy

Word Count: 1450

18+

Daryl was sat against the car, smoking a cigarette. It had been almost three days of scavenging for supplies and food for Alexandria when he and Rick wandered upon an old warehouse.

The warehouse was surprisingly clear of walkers. They had scouted the front of the building and saw stacks of full boxes through the dark windows. It was like finding an oasis after two and a half days of finding nothing but empty cans. Deciding that luck was on their side, they crept in through the front door.

What they weren’t expecting to see on the other side of that warehouse door was a camp of men. Roughly 15 men shot up from where they were sleeping and brought their guns up to aim at Rick and Daryl.

“Think you can just creep in here while we’re sleeping? You trying to take what’s ours?” One of the men yelled as he stepped forward. The leader, Daryl assumed.

Rick raised his hands up by his head. “We didn’t know this place was occupied. We can leave.”

The man scoffed. “Why, so you can bring back more people to wipe us out? How do you think we have all of this stuff? It’s because we protect it. So we’re gonna kill you, take your stuff, and then burn your bodies.”

Daryl feels a man press a gun into his side. “Rick.”

“Yeah, I know.” Rick sighs, exasperated. “Go.”

Daryl twists the gun out of the man’s hands and knocks him out with it. He tosses the gun to Rick who starts going on a lecture about how the men should’ve just listened to them.

Gunfire from both Rick and the men causes Daryl to grab the biggest box that he could carry by himself, and run outside to where their car was haphazardly parked. He tossed the box into the back as Rick ran out of the building and jumped into the driver’s seat.

As Rick peeled out onto the road back to Alexandria, Daryl leaned over his seat to open the box.

“Hope we got somethin’ that was worth all of that.” Daryl said as he pulled the last flap of the box open.

Rick watched in the rearview mirror as Daryl’s face dropped. “What is it?”

Daryl picked up one of the pink toys and tossed it at Rick.

“S’a bunch of fuckin’ vibrators.”

When Daryl got home, Alexandria was thankfully quiet. He didn’t want to have to deal with people asking what they brought back from the run. Maybe he would sleep in tomorrow and let Rick deal with it in the morning.

However, it was you who was at the gate. You who he knows won’t stop asking until you get an answer.

After Rick parked the car and you closed the gate, you ran up to hug Daryl.

“I missed you so much, three days was too long.” You said as you kissed him.

He smiled, glad to feel some of the guilt for not finding anything on the run roll off his shoulders.

You watched Rick grab a lone box out of the back of the car. “Oh, what did you guys find?”

Daryl grunted and took the box from Rick. “What do I even do with these, man?”

Rick chuckled and opened the box. “I’m gonna take one for Michonne, I guess. Just give the rest to Olivia for her to take inventory like usual.” He grabbed one of the toys from the box.

Your eyes widened as you saw what the haul from their trip was. You waited until Rick walked away before whispering at Daryl excitedly. “You guys got vibrators for the town?”

“Was an accident. Ran into some guys in a warehouse. Took one of the boxes as they were shootin’ at us. ‘Course it was filled with damn vibrators.”

You let out a giggle at his grumpiness. “I think this is the best haul you’ve ever brought home, I don’t know why you’re so upset!” You grabbed one from the box and started walking with him to the pantry.

“Comes with batteries. We could take all of those and use ‘em.” Daryl said.

You frown. “Or we could bring pleasure to all of the women of Alexandria.”

Daryl stops walking and looks at you. “Thought I gave you enough pleasure. You were even sayin’ it was too much that night before I left.”

You blush as you think back to the night that Daryl overstimulated you before he left on his run. “Yeah you do. But not everyone has a Daryl Dixon. Plus we could try it together. Might be fun?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “Fine. We’re okay on batteries right now anyway.” He says as he continues walking to the pantry.

You grin to yourself as you clutch your new toy to your chest. “Yay! We don’t even have to refill the batteries. We can just use it until they die and then throw it away.”

“Oh my- Daryl.”

The walk to the house from the pantry had Daryl thinking about getting you home and getting you off. You had barely closed the door when he started stripping your clothes off.

You giggled as he kissed your neck. “I thought we’d at least sleep after your run before jumping in!”

“Nah, need to make you feel good.” He grunted and picked you up over his shoulder.

You squealed and held on tight to your vibrator as he started walking to your shared bedroom. The packaging was torn open in a hurry while you were still upside down on Daryl’s shoulder. You dropped the box as you yanked the toy out.

Daryl smacked your ass to signal that he was going to toss you onto the bed. You land on the fluffy blankets and pillows and laugh as Daryl finishes taking your clothes off. “You’re so eager, I thought you weren’t sure about bringing toys into the bedroom.”

He smirks down at you. You were still holding onto the bright pink vibrator with a look of excitement in your eyes. “You said ya wanted to try. So we’re trying.”

He grabs the toy from your hand and presses the button to turn it on. Your eyes light up as it immediately starts buzzing in your lover’s hand.

“How do ya want me to do this, baby?” He whispers as he trails the fluttering toy up your thigh.

You close your eyes and sigh into the feeling. “I don’t care, just need it somehow, Daryl.”

“Ya want me to eat ya out? Put this thing on yer clit?”

You nod your head at the thought. You also notice his accent getting thicker as he gets more aroused; a trait that you’ve come to admire about him.

“Okay, ‘ve got ya, honey.”

Daryl lays down on his stomach between your thighs and brings your legs up to rest on his shoulders. He licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit, making you gasp at the contact. Gently, he presses the toy onto your puffy clit. He looks up at you, assessing the situation. He smirks when he sees your head thrown back and your fingers clutching the blanket underneath you.

“That feel good, baby?”

“Would feel even better if you used your m-mouth.” You gasped out.

Daryl kissed your inner thigh. “Say please.”

You pouted at him. “Please, Dar?”

Daryl kissed just to the side of your hole, muttered something about you being a “princess” and dove in.

You moaned and tossed around in the bed. To an outside perspective, it would look like some type of weird exorcism. But it was just Daryl making you feel so good. Daryl and that “damn vibrator.”

His tongue continued to lap up the wetness that you were producing for him. Because it was always for him. He moaned into your soaked hole and tongue-fucked you into oblivion.

The continuous buzz of the vibrator kept lifting you up and up until you were finally at your peak. Daryl was mumbling praises that could barely reach your ears as you shook underneath him. Your thighs tightened around his head, but he didn’t stop until your body relaxed under his tongue and your moans turned into small whines.

Your breathing was labored and there was a ringing in your ears that sounded like the song of heaven as you lay there, recovering from the insanely intense orgasm that Daryl had just given you.

Daryl. You pulled yourself up onto your elbows and looked down at your man. He was licking the vibrator.

You both locked eyes as he pulled it away from his mouth. Smiling at each other, you said in unison;

“We’re keeping it.”

[ladykailitha]

Staking My Claim Part 1

Hello! Because of my flu, I've been working on low stakes stuff to help with my foggy head. I promise this week to be back on to the WIPs I have going to be build up my backlog again.

This started off as a silly "let the boys be goofy" and turned into a "found family with ONE goofy moment in it". Sorry about that. I blame the cough medicine honestly.

***

Eddie and his friends were enjoying a rare night where they didn’t have to play at Cora’s Den in Indy when it happened.

Now, Cora’s Den wasn’t gay bar per se, but as it was one of the most inclusive places in Indy, the normies considered it one.

So when he came back from going to the bathroom he leaned into the center of their table so he could whisper. “Tell me that’s not Steve Harrington at the bar in a crop top and cutoffs.”

All three of his friends turned to the bar as one.

Gareth smacked his lips. “As much as I would love to, man, no can do.”

“And is he really flirting with that dude?” Eddie asked with a wince.

Jeff raised an eyebrow. “I’m seriously doubting that. Looks like Stevie could use a rescue.”

Eddie turned and looked over. Sure enough the guy that had been flirting with Steve had been replaced by a new guy. And one that didn’t look like he was getting the hint to fuck off.

“Go on,” Brian said. “You know you want to. He’s clearly got a thing for the guys and you might even get laid for the first time in months.”

Eddie nodded curtly and slapped the table. “Right.”

*

Steve was having a good time until this guy came along. He just wouldn’t take no for answer. He wasn’t looking to go home with anyone. His parents had just blown out of town again and Steve was looking for a way to blow off some steam. Relax after the last week of sheer exhaustion of dealing with them and their judgments. He usually went with Robin so that people would leave them alone. Only she had the late shift tonight and the early shift in the morning.

He was going to wait until the weekend when they could both go and have fun, but Robin insisted that he go, otherwise he’d be moping around Family Video all week. So he came out tonight, not really out to get drunk, or laid, just to have a good time.

This was not that.

Suddenly an unopened bottle of his favorite beer was being pressed into his hand as a warm arm wrapped around his waist.

“There you are, baby,” a soft voice cooed. “Sorry I’m late, work was a nightmare.”

Steve let himself relax into the man’s side. “I’m just glad you made it, Eds.”

Eddie grinned at him. “I swear old man Thacher is getting worse in his old age.”

Steve laughed. “I know, right? I went in for an oil change and he berated me for twenty minutes on why couldn’t I just do it myself.”

Eddie frowned. “Don’t you have a BMW that requires a special oil?”

Steve pursed his lips and nodded. “Yup!”

Eddie turned to look at the guy who was standing there with his mouth open. “Are you still here?”

The guy bristled. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I was here first.”

“He’s my boyfriend,” Steve said, straightening up, but still remained plastered to Eddie’s side. “Eddie Munson. Lead singer and guitarist for Corroded Coffin. You know, the band that plays here every weekend?”

“Yup,” Eddie lied easily. “So where’s Birdie tonight? Working the late shift?”

“Ha!” the man snapped. “That’s not his friend’s name. His friend’s name is Robin! I knew you were a fake.”

Eddie blinked at him as if the man had grown three heads. “Robin Buckley. Robin is a bird. Bird plus Buckley, ergo Birdie. I have nicknames like that for all my friends. And any friend of Stevie’s is a friend of mine.”

Steve rubbed his nose along Eddie’s jaw affectionately. “And how did you know what her name was?” he asked, not even looking at the guy. “I don’t think I recall seeing you around before.”

The man’s face paled and he turned on his heel, storming off in a huff.

“Thanks for that,” he murmured into Eddie’s ear. “I’m usually pretty good at getting assholes to lay off, but he wouldn’t take no for answer.”

“Your inner mean girl couldn’t make him go away?” Eddie whistled. “That is persistent.”

Steve giggled. Then he blushed and looked down. That was when he remembered the drink in his hand. “So what’s with the unopened beer?”

“I didn’t want you to think I was another creep by bringing you an open bottle.”

Steve looked up at him and blinked a couple of times. “Wow, you really are my knight in leather armor tonight.”

Eddie took the bottle and popped it open with his bulky ring on his middle finger. “There you go.”

“That was so hot,” Steve said stupidly.

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Duly noted.”

*

Steve was invited back to their table and had an absolute blast.

He was coming back from the bar with a couple of drinks in his hands when someone bumped into him, almost making him spill the drinks.

“Hey, watch it!” he hissed.

Immediately Eddie was at his side in an instant.

“You okay?” he asked taking a couple of the drinks from him.

“Yeah,” Steve groused. “Just some asshole not watching where he was going. I didn’t even get a drop on my shoes.”

Eddie snickered. “Yeah, okay. You and your jock reflexes.”

Steve leaned over and whispered, “I’m also very flexible in bed.”

“As in top or bottom or are we talking positions?” Eddie asked, running his tongue over his bottom lip slowly.

“Both.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “No need to go so hard, baby. I was already wanting to take you home with me tonight.”

“What about your friends?” Steve asked grinning back. “It sounded like you all share the apartment.”

“We have a signal for if we bring anyone back,” Eddie assured him. “Also we know to keep it down because the apartment walls are thin and not just inside the apartment.”

Steve’s mouth formed an O. “I got you.”

He knew there were pros and cons to living in an apartment. Having your neighbors that close were definitely a con.

“You still living at home?” Eddie asked as they made their way through the crowd.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. It’s not like my parents are ever there. Though it would just be my luck that they’d come home while I’m out the queerest bar in Indy.”

“Not a fan of queers?” he asked once they reached the table.

“They’re fans of Reagan,” Steve said with a grimace. “I’m pretty sure that automatically puts them on the opposing team.”

The entire table recoiled in sympathy.

“Fuck, that’s harsh!” Jeff said. “Thankfully my parents aren’t Reagan supporters, though they have raised many an eyebrow at Eddie here.”

Eddie face turned into a feral grin.

Brian shrugged. “My parents don’t care as long Eddie doesn’t shove it down their throats.”

Steve rolled his eyes. That old nugget. Walking down the street holding hands with someone of the same gender was shoving it down their throats as far as they were concerned.

Gareth looked at his friends wide eyed. “Um...sucks to be you guys I guess, but my parents adore Eddie, don’t mind him or I being gay and threatened to sue the school over the devil worshiping allegations about our D&D club. So...”

“Three cheers for the Hughes family!” Eddie said.

They all cheered and clanked their glasses together. They downed their drinks and roared with unrestrained joy.

Steve could feel a rush of blood around his ears. The room faded in and out and it sounded like Eddie and his friends were under water. He staggered off his stool and nearly stumbled to the floor.

Then the world went black.

***

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Also I'm not sure if this post canon or no monster AU. I can't decide, but it's ambiguous either way.

Permanent Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Angel Dust with Violet Evergarden!reader platonic fluff scenario

Warnings: spoilers up to episode 4, possible triggers. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please leave now and read something much more pleasant.

For everyone else, welcome to this small piece of fluffy goodness! You guys might know me from my other blog, @forbidden-sunlight . You have sent me your ideas for future Violet Evergarden!reader scenarios for Hazbin Hotel, and here is one of them! :)

Sit back, relax, and let us dive into a chaotic afterlife, where even a bit of reprieve from dishonesty and hypocrisy isn’t possible…until now.

Angel Dust's first impression of you is the following: a cute weirdo who dressed like a doll and didn’t smile much. What was even more tragic is that you actually believed there is a chance for sinners to be redeemed, and that the only to do that is complete Charlie’s half-assed rehabilitation program. You still do, even your progress hasn’t gotten you one step closer to Heaven’s pearly gates and the next Extermination is in six months. Five months actually, but who's counting?

That was around the time when he had to go back to work. He didn’t want to, but he knew if he didn’t…well, he didn’t want to think about it. Valentino is a psychopathic freak. He promised to make him, Angel, a big star in Hell’s entertainment industry, and instead fucked him over six ways from Sunday with false promises.

Long hours, shitty pay. No time to even take a nap in his dressing room because of course Big Daddy Val had his favorite toy’s schedule booked until he couldn't walk anymore and needed a stiff drink. When his afterlife seemed to take a nosedive for worse, and after Husk knocked some sense into him, he started finding letters under his door.

At first glance Angel could tell that they weren’t from his fans. No one’s gonna go out of their way and buy expensive paper to type it on, shove in an envelope, and put a wax seal on it just to praise him for his acting skills and share their wildest fantasies starring yours truly. No. This was….someone else.

He honestly didn't know how to describe the context of these letters because he had never received something like this from anyone who did not expect anything from him in PS or PPS. The sender would write either a short or long letter. The short letter was about half a page long; the sender would ask how he was feeling and ask him one question. What was his favorite food? What is the color he would never wear? The sender included a little about themselves too, as if to encourage him to respond. The longer ones started the same, with a greeting and almost the same stuff written in the shorter ones, but they shared how their day went with him, even the stupid, mundane shit they do every day as a part-time clerk at an antique shop and when they come home. The longer ones were at least two pages long. Some stuff made him roll his eyes, made him laugh…but it was the closing sentences, even as they vary from letter to letter, always jerked his heart in a way which made him both sad and happy at the same time.

I’m happy I’ve met you.

Thank you for being here.

Good night and have pleasant dreams.

You are stronger than you think, Angel.

I hope I can receive a letter from you someday.

You made a lot of progress today in Charlie’s exercises. I’m proud of you.

You’re doing great.

Angel might be a bit of a dummy….but he could tell right away who had been sending him the letters. The bit about Charlie’s exercises…there were only a few people attending that day. Vaggie, Sir Wet Noodles, and you. Vaggie wouldn’t write this kind of shit, and definitely not the wannabe overlord. You. You’ve helped him get through it with these letters and you never expected him to reply back. It’s as if you just wanted your words to reach him through Val’s sickly red smoke and hold his hand in your gloved one.

Naturally…the best way he can say thanks…for caring about him in your roundabout way…is to write a letter back. Maybe have a drink at Husk’s bar and talk about shitty coworkers or why Smiles never stops smiling? He’s not sure, but he’ll figure it out somehow. Sex isn’t the only thing he’s good at. And he’d like to get to know you a little more too.

Taglist

@angelltheninth

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@chroniccorvus

@food-theorys-blog

@doc-tooth

[na0koz]

haikyuu boys meeting your family !

atsumu, kageyama, suna,

pre timeskip, female pronouns

atsumu is so scared. like he’s terrified. he’s convinced himself your parents won’t like him and they’re gonna force you to stop seeing him, but he won’t tell you that.

the plan was to go on your date in the city and then come home for dinner with your family; it can’t be that bad, right? wrong apparently. the whole journey home atsumu is pretty quiet, he’s trying to decide how to act while he fiddles with the wrapping of the bouquet that he insisted he buy for your mom. every time you ask if he’s okay, he just smiles at you and tells you he’s tired from walking around so much. once you guys get to your house atsumu’s gotten over the shaky nerves and he’s now onto the cocky, overconfident nerves, which is pretty close to his personality anyways. the whole time he’s complimenting your mom’s cooking, playing with your younger sibling and he was even humble about volleyball. you smile into your food when he says “ahh i’m not sure if i’m the best setter ‘round here” knowing full well that’s what he usually calls himself. he makes sure to thank your parents a lot.

after he goes home your parents tell you how nice he seems and how you did well. after you shut the door while he smiles and waves he lets out a huge breath, one he’s been holding all day. “they liked me,” he muttered to himself as he zips up his jacket and takes himself home.

kageyama is oddly relaxed. he declines hanging out with the team since he’s going to your house to properly meet your parents, which he says almost dismissively. a few minutes later he’s asking what the big deal is and how it’s “just meeting her parents?”; noya and tanaka and practically yelling in his face “dude. she’s like, totally in love with you if you get to meet her parents.”

he only realises how big of a deal it is when he notices how sweaty his palms are as he raises his hand to knock on your front door. he chews his lip while he waits for you and can suddenly only focus on your parents liking him. he’s snapped out of his thoughts when you open the door and pull him into a hug before you lead him into the lounge area to say hi. kageyama doesn’t really know how to talk about himself, you know that so you help him along by asking him questions like “don’t you have a game next week?” and prompting him to talk about the details. he’s also not very good at eye contact or even looking at people when he’s talking to them but at least he’s talking. while he’s helping you clean up he nervously asks if he did good so you take his hands and make sure to tell him just how well he did.

after he goes home your mom says “he’s cute” while you exclaim and punch her shoulder. he opens his phone and sees a bunch of texts on the team group chat asking how it went. he decides to tell his sister how it went before his friends.

suna is calm. he tells himself he’ll try not to be an asshole because who would want their daughter dating a sarcastic, snarky guy? he obviously loves you, but if your parents don’t like him then who is he to go against their wishes and keep seeing you? if they want him to leave you alone, he will.

he’s discreetly asking you stuff that will affect how he acts during the week before he’s scheduled to have dinner with you and your family. suna asking you which shirt you like better was new, so you were a little suspicious but you decided to ignore it. he did slip a couple times, he swore once and told a story with the details that parents don’t need to know left in, but he saved it well enough by saying he wasn’t part of it and it’s just something he heard from a classmate.

your mom seemed a liiitle apprehensive about suna but you did your best to tell her he was just nervous and he’s not a bad guy. he texted you later in the evening asking if he had fucked up, you told him he didn’t and how you heard your parents saying he seemed like he really cared about you. that lifted a little weight off his shoulder.

[plussizefantasia]

CozyTober Day 11: Last Minute Family Gathering

Steve Harrington x reader

warnings: mention of Steve's shitty homelife, other than that just fluff

WC: 1.2k

a/n: I'm OBSESSED with how this turned out! Steve is such a sweetheart and I love him so much in this! Reblog if you liked this and keep a look out for Day 12! (I'm catching up I promise)

You knew that Steve’s home life left a lot to be desired. In all of your years of knowing home, you could count the number of times he had told you about family dinners on your hands. You’re not sure if that was because Steve had family dinners so infrequently that there wasn’t much to share, or because when he did have them they weren’t the kind of night he liked to talk about.

Either way, when your mom told you that you’re cousins and grandparents on her side were coming over for dinner that night you knew that you could give Steve at least one good family dinner memory.

Everyone’s family had ups and downs but your mom’s side was your favorite and after dating Steve for a year you thought it might be time to introduce him to everyone. When you called to ask if he wanted to come over he practically jumped down your throat to say yes and then promptly began panicking.

“What should I wear? What should I bring?! What if your grandma doesn’t like me? What kind of stuff does your grandpa like? Should I be right on time? Or should I be like fifteen minutes early?” Question after question tumbled out his mouth.

“Stevie, baby, listen. You can wear whatever you want but it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to wear like a sweater and a nice pair of jeans. If you come early, we can hang out in my room until it’s time for dinner and I’m sure that everyone will love you because I love you and they love me.”

“I love you too.” His voice crackled through the phone, “You still didn’t tell me what your grandpa likes.”

“I will see you at 6:00 baby. I love you.” You hung up the phone and took a deep breath, nervous but excited jitters running through your body.

You passed the kitchen on the way up to your room and poked your head in to see your mom already in the midst of cooking.

“Hey Ma, Steve’s coming for dinner okay? He’ll be here around 6.”

She looked up from the bowl she was stirring, “Oh, that’ll be so nice, I haven’t seen him in ages.”

“It’s been two weeks Mom, you talked to him for like half an hour the last time he came to pick me up for school. We were both late to the first period.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

She just rolled her eyes and waved you off. How come she got to roll her eyes at you? If you did that to her you’d lose your walkman for like a whole week!

Steve got there at 5:45 before any of your family arrived and he parked several houses down. When he got to the door you were already standing there with a question on your face. “The heck you park so far away for?” 

He shrugged, “Wanted to leave enough space for everyone to park close to the house.” 

“You’re sweet.” You told him and gave him a soft kiss. 

Clutched in his hand were two small bouquets of flowers, they looked like they had been one big one that he had split in half but the thought was all you really cared about. He handed the smaller of the two off to you and kissed you once again, “You didn’t tell me what I needed to bring so I figured flowers were a safe bet.”

“You figured right, come on in, Mom’s doing pre-dishes so now is a good time to interrupt.” You pulled him through the doorway and shut it behind him. You took his jacket from him and hung it up in the hall closet. You made your way into the kitchen shortly after Steve and were not at all surprised that he and your Mom were already in deep conversation. 

You waited a solid fifteen minutes before interrupting, “Mom, can I take Steve now I wanted to get my homework done before everyone got here.” 

“Oh, sure! I’ve got a ton to do anyway.”

“Need any help?” Steve, gallently but unnecessarily asked.

“No, no you two go head upstairs, I’ll call you when people start getting here.”

“Okay, thanks Mom, Love you bye!” You call after you, not-so-subtly shoving Steve out of the kitchen and towards your room.

Once inside the safety of your four poster-covered walls, you flop down on your bed and drag Steve with you.

“What homework did you have to get done?” He asks.

“Oh, none. But I didn’t feel like standing and watching you talk to my mom for another hour.” 

He chuckles and wraps his arm around your waist, the two of you both lying on your sides and facing each other.

“Fair enough. Could you give me the rundown on everyone who's coming?” Steve asks, not doing a very good job of hiding the nervousness in his voice.

And you did, you spent the next hour in bed with your boyfriend detailing the ins and outs of your family relationships. Naming everyone and telling him who is who and what each of them likes and doesn’t like. You give him pointers on things to talk about and things to avoid and even quiz him on all the information you unloaded on him. He passes with flying colors just like you knew he would.

You're interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. You feel Steve tense up in your arms and kiss him as a distraction.

“Remember, They’ll love you because I love you and they love me. Okay?” You reassure him and smile when he nods. 

Your family slowly starts to trickle into the house and make their way to the dining room. You quickly claim your seats and place Steve in between you and your Dad; both giving him a buffer from people he doesn’t know and making him the buffer between you and your dad who is one of the grossest eaters you’ve ever met.

As the night goes on Steve perks up and starts talking to people. By the end of the night, you’re pretty sure that your Grandpa likes him more than you which you’ll deem a victory even though it stings a little.

The family migrates from room to room ‘saying their goodbyes’ for like two hours. But eventually, the house empties and it’s just you Dad, who is snoring in the recliner in the living room, your mom who refuses to let either of you help with dishes, and the two of you.

“So, was it as scary as you thought it’d be?” You asked Steve.

“Scarier.” Is his response, you smack his shoulder lightly and shake your head.

“Well, you didn’t show it, who knew you knew so much about the Roman Empire? I don’t think I’ve heard Grandad talk that much like… ever.”

“I think it’s a dude thing.” Steve laughed.

“Well, whatever it was he liked you. They all did.”

“I think so too.” Steve smiled. 

“So… you wanna come for Thanksgiving? My mom is making her garlic mashed potatoes and you love those.”

“Sure, I do love those potatoes.”

“Oh, I see how it is, the potatoes are your priority?”

“Yep.” He grins.

“Alright.” You put your hand up and start walking away. Steve manages to snag your hand and pull you back towards him.

“You know I love you.” He says, kissing you on the forehead, “I just love your mom’s mashed potatoes more.” 

You smack him.