#favorite word is so hard but like. i’m pretty sure this one. words are cool i got a lot of interesting words from vocab quizes

[valeovalairs]

favorite word?

sorry for taking a while i was thinking.

i think it’s probably lurid?

adjective

(of a description) presented in vividly shocking or sensational terms, especially giving explicit details of crimes or sexual matters.

very vivid in color, especially so as to create an unpleasantly harsh or unnatural effect.

i remember seeing it in a vocab list for school, like, back in eight grade, and thinking, that’s a cool word. good for writing. i use it a lot as a result because i find it to be a really good word to signal, hey! something’s very wrong and very bad! and awful! there’s lot of different ways you can manipulate it in your writing. good word for describing scenes.

also it just sounds interesting and is cool imo

[coldfanbou]

Be Sure Of It

Here we are with Eunha. In the end, I kept it as only her because I had this idea. Honestly, though, I may use the building mentioned for some other smuts. It would be pretty easy to insert other idols there and just have a universe around it. Also, it was a little tricky to write this because I had to think about whether to refer to Eunha using the stage name versus her real name.

Length 3.2K

Eunha X Mreader

You waited nervously at the restaurant, tapping your fingers on the table as you waited for your date's arrival. You peered out the large windows, hoping to spot her; her profile was on your phone, so you didn’t mistake someone else for her. Then, you saw her across the street, her bag slung over her shoulder as she hurried towards you. Relief washed over you as you recognized her, and she noticed you, too, waving with a bright smile. She walked around the corner, stepped inside, and headed straight toward you. “Hi! I’m Eunbi; sorry for keeping you waiting!” She exclaimed, slightly out of breath, as she sat down and reached over the table to shake your hand.

“It’s nice to meet you too. I was a little worried you wouldn’t show up,” you admit, feeling a mix of relief and nervousness. Your heart was pounding, and you couldn't help but wonder if she felt the same way.

“I’d never no-show a date. It’s hard enough to get one with my job.” 

You nod your head, trying to remember what her job was. “It was as a-”

“A health girl,” Eunbi interrupts, “I’m glad you remember,”

“Yeah, I tried to remember everything you had on your profile. I must have gone over it a hundred times before today.” You feel immediate embarrassment as those words leave your mouth, and you hang your head, feeling like you just made a big mistake.

Eunbi laughs, though, “Really? Were you that interested in me?” Looking up, you see Eunbi resting her head on her hand, her cheek squished. 

“Um, yes,” You say quietly, feeling a warm flush spread across your cheeks as Eunbi's laughter fills the air. You could feel your cheeks turning red, and you were sure she could see it, too.

“Don’t be shy; that makes me pretty happy. I don’t get many matches because of my profession. Those that I do get usually only want one thing. So, what made you interested in me?

“I thought you were cute and saw all the pictures of you cosplaying. I thought it was cool.” You say shyly. 

“Ah! You looked at them?!” The excitement in her voice was evident, “Which one was your favorite?”

“I liked you as Haruko from Slam Dunk,” you reply, pulling up the picture. “I liked your smile; you looked really happy in it.”

Eunbi purses her lips, trying to hide her smile. “Thanks,” she giggles. “No one really likes those old shows anymore, but I think they’re pretty fun.” You and Eunbi spent the date discussing old shows and sharing that interest. It was enjoyable; the two of you enjoyed sharing your thoughts about which shows should be remade and which should remain classics. As your time together came to a close, you ordered an ice cream and headed out the door together. You walked around, continuing your chat until you found yourselves in the city’s central park. 

Eunbi came to a stop, sitting on a nearby bench and waiting for you to sit next to her. “Tonight has been really fun, and I want to go on another date.” She says quietly, her happy energy from earlier fading as she becomes serious. “But are you sure you are okay with dating someone like me? It’s just- I mean, a lot of guys say they’re okay with it, but they really aren’t. They try to get me to quit as soon as we’re together.” It’s clear to you this was something Eunbi had gone through multiple times; the anxiety in her voice and the fact she was staring at the ground the entire time she spoke was enough. “I-I just…”

“Eunbi, I’m okay with it.” You say, placing your hand on hers. Eunbi raises her head, turning to face you. “It must be hard on you, looking for someone, but I’m okay with you having that sort of job. I’ll never make you quit; that’s your decision.” You take a deep breath, “I’d like to take you on another date, Eunbi.”

Eunbi sniffles, and a small smile appears on her face. “Thanks for saying that, but,” she pulls her hand away and reaches into her bag, pulling out a small business card. “I think you should see me at work before you decide if you want to go on another date with me.” Eunbi pushes herself off the bench and stands up. “Anyway, thanks for tonight. I had a lot of fun. You know where to find me, " she says softly. 

You rise slowly and walk over to Eunbi with the business card still in hand. “Yes, I do. Thanks for tonight, Eunbi.” You wrap your arms around her and hug her, feeling her arms hesitantly wrap around you before cinching in. After a moment, the two of you break apart and head separate ways for the night.

That night, you looked at the card before going to bed, feeling excited about the next step. You wanted to go on another date with Eunbi, so you had to visit her first. You notice the name change on it; she didn’t use her real name. She used Eunha.

A few nights passed when you decided to visit Eunbi at her workplace.  While the place was open all day, Eunbi worked in the evenings and nights, so that’s when you had to go. It was in the red-light district. You weren’t familiar with it and wandered around, trying to find the place. Neon lights glowed from every building, painting the street with various colors. You continued past the barkers, trying to get you to walk into their establishment. You turn your head, viewing both sides so you won’t have to do another lap. Then you spotted it; it was a large building that took up an entire block. Much like the other buildings in the area, it bathed the street in bright pink neon lights. You cross the street, getting closer, when you notice the women dancing inside, inviting men to enter. They wore revealing outfits, from bunny suits and sexy maids to wedding dresses, with some just in lingerie. The ground level had them separated into their own rooms. You come to a stop, though, as you pass by a crowd; glancing at the window, you see one of the women having sex, fucking like a rabbit in heat with her breasts pressed against the glance. You pry your eyes away and look ahead, noticing she isn’t the only one. Other women in the rooms ahead were also having sex. 

You refocused yourself and continued toward the entrance, heading inside and finding a similar situation, with women in rooms, some dancing and others having sex. On occasion, there would be room blacked out, giving you the hint that some people wanted to be watched. Once down the hall, you found a board of faces���a picture of a woman and their face on it. Some were greyed out, signifying they were with a client. “You have to put money in first, sir.” You hear from behind you. Turning around, you find a staff member sharply dressed in a suit behind the counter. The man repeats himself, pointing to the bottom left of the giant screen. You notice a smaller pad was there to take payment. “If you’d like any information about the ladies before choosing, please feel free to ask me.” 

“Is Eunha here?” You ask nervously. 

The staff member looked down at something before meeting your gaze and responding matter-of-factly, “Yes, she is. She is on the top left-hand side of the board.” You nod and pay for an hour's session before returning to the larger screen and looking for Eunha. You spot her picture at the top and press it, confirming your choice after.

“Good choice, sir. Here is your room key, " the staff member says, pulling out a keycard. “She is on the second floor; once up the stairs, go to the right side at the end of the hall, turn to the left, and she will be at the end of that hall.” The man extends his arm, showing you the staircase. You take the keycard and give the man a nod before heading up the spiral staircase, finding a large lounge with a couple of men sitting idly. You glance at the other two hallways before heading to the right. You feel your heart beat faster as you make the final turn and head to the end of the hall. You stand outside the door and take a deep breath before tapping the keycard and opening it. You step inside and find Eunha waiting on the other side. She’s in a school uniform that’s been cropped and is wrinkled. The skirt, if you could call it that at this point, ended a few inches from the waist. Eunha had on a pair of crotchless panties, and you could see how slick her thighs were with her; there was cum running down her legs. On the top half of her body was an open button-up shirt that she had tied together in a loose knot, her nipples poking through the thin fabric.

“Oh! It’s you!” Eunha says with a smile on her face. “You actually came.”

You nod, “I said I would.”

Eunha chuckles, “I guess you did.” You both stand there awkwardly, unable to continue. “Please have a seat.” Eunha moved back to the kingsized bed. She throws herself on it and pats the spot next to her. After sitting beside her, Eunha places her hand on your thigh. “I guess you can see what my last customer did to me,” Eunha says, looking between her legs. “I barely had time to get the room ready again.” She sighs, looking down at the floor and kicking her feet softly. “This is what I meant; I understand if you don’t want to date me. Who would want to have a girlfriend that’s constantly getting fucked by others.” You feel the sadness begin to seep through into her voice. 

You shake your head, “Eunbi, I told you I don’t care. I knew that going into this, I’d have to be okay with you having this job. Look, I know we’ve just been on a single date, but I like you, and I want to see where this goes.”

“You mean that?” Eunha asks, her voice wavering. You nod at Eunha and place your other hand on hers. Though small, your action was enough to give Eunha some confidence in you. She sniffles before giving you a bright smile. “I guess we should get started then, right?”  

“I guess so.” Eunha presses her lips against yours, pushing you onto the bed and straddling you. You feel the passion behind the kiss, the corners of her mouth pulled into a smile. She lifts your shirt past your arms and over your head. Eunha was confident in every action. She moved down slowly, raising her ass in the air as she worked at getting your pants down, unbuckling your belt, and unbuttoning your pants. She stares you down as she bites down on the zipper tab and pulls it down. You can see a growing hunger in her eyes as she crawls over you and steals another kiss from you. You feel her hands move down your side as she tries to pull your pants off you.

You help her get them off, along with your underwear. Eunha’s hand grasps your shaft, moving up and down slowly as she meets your gaze. “You’re already nice and hard for me.” She whispers, her grip growing tighter. You see her smile grow as you moan her name. Eunha moves her other hand down, cupping your balls. “These are so big and heavy. I haven’t eaten all day. You have a lot of cum for me, right?” She gives you a pout before moving down your body and pressing her face against your cock, letting the tip rest against her forehead. She kisses the shaft and takes in your scent before wrapping her hand around it again. Eunha shuts her eyes and presses her lips against the base of your cock, inching upward toward the tip. She was moving toward more sensitive areas, and with each kiss, precum leaks from the tip of your cock.

Finally reaching the tip, Eunha opens her eyes again. She smiles at you before pushing the tip against her lips, slowly spreading them and allowing you inside her warm mouth. You feel her tongue run up and down your shaft as she rubs the head against the inside of your cheek. Her hand strokes the base of your cock, ensuring you’re getting the most out of it. She pulls back slowly, letting her saliva drip onto your cock, her tongue sticking out. 

Running her hand up and down your shaft, Eunha spreads her saliva across your cock. “This is going to be good,” she mutters, leaning down and wrapping her lips around your cock. You groan, enjoying as Eunha bobs her head, her tongue running along the underside of your shaft. You rest on your elbows, watching Eunha, noticing as she moves one hand down and fingers herself, occasionally pulling out to rub her clit. You place your hand on her head, earning you a glance from Eunha. She continued, slowly down and taking more of you in. You lean back and groan loudly as you feel yourself hit the back of her throat. 

Eunha pulls back slowly, slobber running down her chin and onto your cock. She slaps herself with it, dirtying herself further. She strokes your cock quickly as she speaks, “You’re so close; I felt your cock twitch. You can cum whenever you want; you don’t even have to warn me. I’ll be able to drink it all up.” Eunha smiles at you before making your cock disappear again. 

You struggle to hold on as her tongue lashes at the tip of your cock. Eventually, you’re forced to cum; you buck your hips upward into Eunha’s mouth and cum inside. She presses her hand against your pelvis, pushing you down as her lips form a seal around your cock, and she drinks every drop. She bobs her head slightly as you cool down from your climax. Eunha slowly comes to a halt and leaves your cock with a pop, “Ahh, that was so good,” She moans, licking her lips. 

Eunha places her hand on your cock, stroking it to get you hard again. “That must’ve felt really good for you; you came a lot.”

“It was amazing,” you groan, her grip tightening as you get hard again.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Now it’s time for the best part.” Eunha straddles you, rubbing your cock between her folds as she aligns you to her entrance. She reaches forward, grabbing your hands and interlacing her fingers with yours as she lowers herself onto your cock. You slip in easily, her warm and slippery walls snuggly wrapping around your cock as she rests against your pelvis. Eunha’s soft moan fills the room, and you move up her body until you meet Eunha’s gaze. She gives you a soft smile that you can’t help but return. She keeps her hands with yours as she begins to bounce on your cock, soft moans flowing from her lips. Eunha leans against you, your hand holding becoming the only thing keeping her up. You lowered your eyes, noticing the knot that kept her shirt together come loose. Your eyes became glued to Eunha’s chest, watching her tits bounce as she rode you. “Ah, hold on,” she moaned, letting you off your hands to throw off her shirt. Eunha placed her hands on your chest and began moving again, her slow movements picking up speed with time. You placed your hands on her waist, holding her as she rode you. Eunha kept her eyes shut and threw her head back, groaning as she felt your cock go deep inside her. “You’re…going to… make me cum,” Eunha said, struggling to get her words out.

“I’m going to cum too.” You grunted, your cock throbbing against her tightening walls. You begin thrusting into Eunha, going deeper as your bodies collide. “I want us to cum together,” Eunha nods her head, biting her bottom lip as she nears her climax. You both cry out as you reach your peak; Eunha slams herself down on you, impaling herself on your cock and cumming with you. You pull Eunha into a kiss as she collapses on top of you, her chest heaving as you both slowly come down. 

“That was amazing,” she says, still out of breath. Eunha unmounts you and places herself on your bicep, taking a few deep breaths before looking into your eyes as you lay there together. 

“I’ve seen you at your work now. So I can ask you out on another date, right?” After a few minutes of staring into your eyes, her face turns red. She covers it with her hands and turns her back to you. “Eunbi? What’s wrong?” You ask, trying to turn her back around.

“It’s embarrassing!” She shouts into her hands.

“What?”

“Ahh! I said all those things in front of you!” Eunbi buries her face into the mattress and kicks her feet. 

“Those things?” You ask curiously.

“Those things about your cock and balls. It’s so dirty!” You laugh at her answer, making her raise her head. “Don’t laugh! I only say those things here because people like to hear that!” She explains, her tiny fists knocking on your chest. “You’re never going to hear me repeat those things! They’re too embarrassing to say to someone I’m dating!” 

You laugh again, enjoying how embarrassed she was. “So, does that mean we’re going on another date?” Eunbi pauses her tantrum, realizing what she said. She peers up at you, and you ask again, “Eunbi, would you like to go out on another date?”

Eunbi feels a warmth in her heart as she hears your question being asked so sincerely and nods. “I’d like that; yeah, let’s go on another date,” she says softly before embracing you. You spend the rest of your time lying together. When your time runs out, and you're forced to separate, Eunbi kisses you on the cheek. “I’ll text you, okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” You respond before kissing Eunbi one more time before you go. “Have a good day at work.” She smiles and waves as you shut the door behind you. You get home sometime past midnight and lay in bed. You couldn’t sleep, though; your body was filled with energy after your night with Eunbi. You thought you would feel tired, but that wasn't the case, and just as your mind began to drift, you got a single-word message from Eunbi. 

“Breakfast?” It made you chuckle, and you agreed to meet her for breakfast in the morning. The two of you met for breakfast, chatting about old cartoons like you had on your first date. Eunbi felt content, happy to have found you, and hoping the relationship continues. The wariness of a new relationship was still on her mind, but seeing that you went further than many others had dared to, she felt a sense of comfort with you.

[annabelinlove]

Tattoo

Pairing: Wolfstar x reader (Sirius Black x Remus Lupin x Reader)

Summary: You wanted to get your first tattoo

Word Count: 2k

Notes: fluff, fem!reader, no use of Y/N, language, English isn’t my first language, lmk if I missed any

“I wanna get a tattoo,” you mumbled with food in you mouth, looking at your plate of spaghetti, but the boys didn’t seem to hear you. Sirius was too preoccupied inhaling his food and Remus was looking at him in bewilderment, he could never understand how he could eat like this and not suffocate himself.

“I’m sorry dove, what was that?” Remus turned his gaze to where you were sitting right in front of him. But before you could say anything he turned his attention back to Sirius. “Siri, you’re gonna choke, if you keep eating like this, my star,” he tried to get Sirius to stop but the boy in question just playfully winked at him and kept eating. You took a deep breath; you knew that it was now or never. You swallowed your bite and said out loud.

“I wanna get a tattoo.” That has finally gotten the boys attention. Sirius choked on his food and started coughing loudly, Remus just rolled his eyes, before patting his back and shooting him a look that said I told you so. When your boyfriend finally stopped coughing and could normally breathe, his whole attention went to you, as did Remus’.

“You wanna do what now?” He almost yelled, looking at you stunned, matching Remus’ expression. Both of them knew how much you loved their tattoos, how could they not, when you told them almost every day and you ogled them every time, they were visible. But neither of them had any idea you wanted one as well.

“I’ve been thinking about it for quite some time now, to be honest. I think it could look pretty and, well you know, badass. Plus, you look so cool with yours and I wanna be more like you, get out of my comfort zone as well,” you admitted shyly, not looking at them. Remus noticed your sheepishness and decided to approach it more calmly than his boyfriend.

“That sounds really lovely, sweets. But you know it’s gonna be permanent right? I don’t want you doing something you might regret. I’m all for getting out of your comfort zone but do it only if you’re really sure.” He said sweetly, but all he could think of was what design you’ve chosen, imagining wild things in his mind.

“Sirius has tattoos he regrets, and I bet you do too, so what if I do as well?” You asked, finally looking up from your plate but your gaze stayed on Sirius’ bicep, where he had Remus has a big dick tattooed. He doesn’t really remember getting it done, he just woke up one day, after a crazy party, with sore arm and a new tattoo. He blames James and Marlene for it. You know he secretly likes it (because it’s true) but regrets it because Remus gave him a really hard time about it, when he found out. He secretly likes it too and it boosts his ego, but he would never admit it.

“Sirius is an idiot who gets every stupid shit tattooed on his body. You can’t compare yourself to him, dove” Remus also looked at Sirius’ bicep, blushing a little bit.

“Heyy, you love my body with every stupid shit on it, and we all know it.” Sirius imitated him, playfully looking offended before continuing speaking. “Yes, I wish I didn’t get some tattoos done and that’s okay, I’m fine with it, we just don’t want you to make the same mistake. Especially with your first tattoo, that’s a big deal. You never forget your firsts.” Sirius winked at you, proud of his innuendo. You blushed, knowing damn well it was true, the memory of your first time with your boys came to your mind. You quickly blinked to get the image out of your head, looking at the smirking boys who knew exactly what you were thinking about.

“I’m not gonna regret it, I’ve gave it a lot of thoughts and I already know what I’m gonna get.” You smiled at the idea of you finally having a tattoo, just like your lovers.

“Okay then, I’m gonna book you with my favorite artist, he’s amazing and always does an amazing job” Sirius beamed at you.

“I thought I was your favorite artist.” Remus pouted at his boyfriend playfully. He was responsible for at least half of Sirius’ ink and Sirius was always bragging about it to everyone who cared to listen.

“And you are my love, I just think that your first tattoo should be done by a professional.” Sirius tried to defend himself, even tho he knew his boyfriend was only joking.

“Are you calling me unprofessional?” Remus teased him more, “And wasn’t your first tattoo done by James?” You added into the teasing, grinning wildly. Sirius gave you both the middle finger, rolling his eyes before continuing to eat, not having anything to defend himself with. Remus laughed loudly at his defeat, looking at him with love.

“I think that’s a good idea actually, to get it done in a professional salon. It could also make you feel more comfortable than one of us doing it.” He shrugged his shoulders, starting to eat as well, but in a much slower pace than his boyfriend, who stuffed his face with spaghetti again.

“I could never feel more comfortable with someone else than you, my loves,” you stated strongly, looking at them with big smile in my face. You were happy that they supported your decision and were happy for you.

———

True to his word, Sirius booked you with his tattoo artist and just in two weeks, you were walking to the salon, with your boys by your side. You couldn’t keep the excitement at bay, as you were almost skipping on the way. You couldn’t be more excited to have a tattoo on your own. People always saw your two boys with tattoos on almost every inch of their bodies, especially Sirius, and gave you weird looks when you admitted you didn’t have any. Now you could finally show them as well as have something new to bond over with Remus and Sirius. They kept asking you about the design you decided to have permanently inked on your body, but you were adamant on it being a surprise and didn’t show them, no matter how persistent they were.

They insisted on going to the salon with you and as you stepped inside, you were glad. The tattoo artist sat you down on a chair as he went to get everything sorted and the fear of needles suddenly hit you and you gripped both of their hands. Both of them immediately noticed and Remus placed a soothing hand on your cheek.

“Are you feeling okay, dovie?” He asked gently and rubbed your cheek soothingly. You swallowed the lump in your throat before answering. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a tad bit nervous.” You bit the inside of your cheek, looking at their tattooed hands and wondering how much it had to hurt.

“You know, you don’t have to go through with it, if you’re not sure. We can walk out right this second.” Sirius lifted your chin so you could look o his serious expression.

“But I want to have a cool tattoo and be hot.” You whined slightly and Sirius’ eyes widened.

“Woman, your are the hottest person to ever live! You’re so hot, I can't believe we haven’t melted yet” He shrieked and in the corner of your eyes, you could see Remus rolling his eyes at Sirius’ loud proclamation but he smiled nonetheless.

“He’s right, you know? You’re smoking hot, with or without tattoos. If you don’t wanna do it, or you’re not sure, we can get out and you’d still be the hottest, more beautiful person to ever walk this earth.” He stated, giving you his most sincere look so you knew he wasn’t joking. You giggled, all the anxiety leaving your body.

“Thank you, but I’m sure. I wanna do this, I really do.” You breathed in and with that, the artist joined your and asked the boys to leave so he could tattoo in private. They both gave you a last look, silently asking if you were sure and when you gave them a nod and a big smile, they both kissed your cheeks and went to sit in the waiting room.

After an hour, the guy was wrapping up your new tattoo. The pain wasn’t even that bad, and the man was talking to you the whole time, helping you with distraction. You put on your (Remus’) sweater, not wanting the boys to see just yet, and went to the reception to pay and leave. He gave you a huge discount, thank to Sirius, and with a promise to see him soon, you left to get your lovers. The second you walked into the waiting room, Sirius jumped to his feet, rushing to you.

“Show me, show me, show me.” He begged like a little boy who is waiting to get a present. Remus walked slowly to the two of you and once again, placed a hand on your cheek.

“How are you feeling, sweets? Are you fine? Was the pain okay?” He asked, wanting to make sure you were okay. You smiled at them, the smile hurting your cheeks as you took both their hands in yours.

“I’m amazing. It was fine, didn’t hurt that much and we talked the whole time.” You calmed him down. Remus looked like he wanted to say something but Sirius jumped in.

“That’s amazing, love. Now show us!” He really looked like a kid, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“I wanna show you when we get home.” Sirius looked like you took away his favorite toy, pouting. Remus laughed at him and went to the exit, holding the door open for you and your whining boyfriend.

“You’re killing me, you know that? I’ve been waiting for two whole weeks.” He trailed after you, like a dog with his tail between his legs.

“See, you’ve waited for this long, you’re gonna survive the few extra minutes.” Remus gave him a kiss on the cheek, taking his hand and you all walked back to your shared apartment.

The second you arrived home, Sirius insisted you show them the tattoo. I’m gonna throw myself out the window if I don’t see it this second, were his exact words. Surprisingly, Remus agreed with him, proclaiming you’ve teased them long enough, with a smirk on his face. You took of the sweater as well as your shirt, taking a deep breath. You were a bit nervous about their reaction. Their eyes fell on your collarbones where the new tattoo laid.

Canis Major (the constellation Sirius was named after) on one side and the Lunar phase on the other. Both boys had their mouth wide open, staring at the ink on your body.

“Is- is it real?” Remus whispered, like he wasn’t with you at the salon. Both him and Sirius walked closer, wanting to have a better look. You nodded, too nervous at their silence to speak out loud.

“I can’t believe you did that.” He said quietly and softly, his eyes never leaving my collar bones.

“You don’t like it?” You asked meekly, scared that they hated it. Sirius whipped his head to look you in the eyes so quickly you were surprised he didn’t break his neck.

“Are you kidding? I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. It’s just..” he said but trailed off, fishing for words. He looked almost insulted when you suggested they didn’t like it.

“We absolutely love it, my sweet girl. We just can’t believe you’d tattoo something with a connection to us.” Remus added, looking at you gently, his eyes full of love. You looked at him in absolute shock.

“Of course I’d tattoo something with a connection to you. You’re my whole world.” Sirius and Remus looked at you like you hung the stars for them.

“And you are ours, our lovely girl. It’s fucking perfect, just like you. I couldn’t love you more.” Sirius said kissing you deeply, before passing you to Remus who did the same thing.

“I can’t believe you did that, my love. Thank you.” He leaned his forehead against yours, his love for you radiating off of him. You basked in their love before Sirius gasped loudly.

“Wait! You’ve let a stranger look and touch you without a shirt on?”

[kissitbttr]

your mafia!toji fic got me thinking so hard abt him😭😭 he’s deffo the type to just buy you sm stuff as an apology but when you don’t forgive him and sleep in a different bedroom mf will come into the room on his knees and beg for you to come to sleep 😩😩 imagine still saying no and him just flipping you onto his shoulders and carrying you to bed 🤭

oh you are absolutely correct!

|

“darling” toji softly calls you, letting out a tired sigh. “i said i was sorry. what am i supposed to do?”

“die” she replies nonchalantly, shoulders shrugging before grabbing a pillow and your favorite blanket off the bed,

he snickers, looking over at her with a raised eyebrow. “now, now that would be over dramatic don’t you think? won’t you miss me?”

he almost pisses his pants when she throws him a glare,

“okay. no jokes. got it” he put his hands up in surrender, feeling absolutely terrified at his baby being mad and speaking less than two words to him,

if anyone ever finds out that the most feared and notorious man in the city being tamed by his woman, he would never hear the end of it,

but she is scary. can you blame him?

toji looks over at the designer shoes and bags he just purchased a few hours ago, tucked neatly in the corner. untouched by her.

guess the apology gifts aren’t working,

“i didn’t know that she was coming, i haven’t even talked to her in years! never planned to anyway, you know i only got my eyes for my girl, right?”

she tries so hard not to roll her eyes,

toji had a meeting with one of the cartels at the club earlier that night. and of course, she always goes. it’s where he can always keep an eye on her and refuses to leave her at home all alone because he can’t risk that. also, because she’s his good luck charm. whenever she’s around, deals always goes well,

tonight was an exception though,

all was well until a certain person decided to crash. his old fling. one before he met his precious girlfriend. the red haired thought that it would be fun to press her fake ass tits against toji,

y/n was shocked to say at least. she didn’t say anything but her face spoke thousand words. toji could see that. throwing daggers at the bitch, corner of her lips quirk into a form of disgust.

and the worst part was? toji didn’t do anything about it! can you believe that asshole?!

something about being absolutely unprofessional if he was ever to push her off and it ticked y/n to the fucking bone so she decided to ignore him the rest of the night,

toji feels defeated when she chooses not to respond, simply just taking her stuff. he crouches lightly to look at her pretty face clearly. “baby… can you please look at me? I can’t stand seeing you mad. i’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you”

if it was any circumstances, sure she would melt and jump in his arms. but tonight is different. how could he?

she looks up at him and whisper “fuck. you” before turning around angrily and walk out of the door to go sleep on the guest room,

toji groans, the heel of his palms pressing against his eyes. she has always been so stubborn. too fucking stubborn. exactly why he had to get rejected seven times before she accepted his date.

what? he needed to get humbled, so she gave him that.

he contemplate for a while whether or not he should let her be or not. then he chooses the latter. it would probably be best if he let her cool off some steam for a while, he doesn’t want to do any more damage or make her feel more annoyed by his presence,

bet. not even ten minutes later, he feels like losing his mind without her here.

“fuck this shit” he mutters, getting up from the bed. rubbing his face furiously before stomping towards the other side of the room,

he walks in without knocking, ready to say what he needs to say again. yet he stops. heart clenching at the sight of his girl curled up in bed, back facing him.

“love?” he slowly walks over to her laying figure,

“go away” she speaks. now in a softer tone

“please” he begs, walking around the bed and catching a glimpse of her playing with her pink manicured hands. “sweetheart. I’m sorry” he repeats, going down to her eye level before letting his hand moves to rest on her bare thigh. he’s internally relieved when she doesn’t push him off,

he sighs when she’s not looking at him, seemingly only focused on the nails that she had gotten done a week ago.

“i should’ve pushed her off. shouldn’t let her touch me like that. hell, i shouldn’t even let her breathe near me. i know that” he realizes his mistake. “i didn’t even think about what my girl needed. i was being a horrible boyfriend”

no answer,

he sighs again, refusing to look away from her pretty eyes,

“baby—“

“i heard you the first time. leave. and close the door”

toji is taken aback. fuck. she really is mad at him.

“you don’t mean that”

“uhm, yes i do” she retorts in an obvious tone, sassily raising her eyebrow before scooting a bit further from him. she doesn’t realize this but it makes his heart break,

“princess, i swear-“

“go call that girl back to keep you company. let that fucking bitch sleep by your side” she mutters, looking at the tv instead of him,

he can’t take this anymore,

“you know what? that’s it” toji had enough, he will not be sleeping alone and neither will she. standing up on his feet, his hands reach out to circle around her ankles before tugging her body towards him causing her to yelp,

“toji! what the fuck are you doing-oh!” her voice gets cut off the moment he pulls her body up like she weighs nothing. throwing her over his shoulder. “put me down!” her fists start to hitting his back—as if they’re actually hurting him— legs swinging back and forth

“nope” he answers, keeping a firm grip around her waist before swatting her ass, locking the guest room behind him and walking back to their shared one. “you’re driving me crazy, woman—not saying that i hate it, but i’m pretty fucking beat tonight and we are going to sleep together. so stop fighting me”

she huffs, admitting defeat and letting him carry to the bed. “fuck you, toji”

he smirks at that. “oh i will, baby”

[insidekatmind]

Bet in Madrid pt.3~Jude Bellingham

Pt.2

Plot: While on holiday in Madrid with your friends, you notice Jude Bellingham, Vinícius Jr, Rodrygo and Mbappé in a bar. Your friends challenge you: you have to ask Jude for a kiss, or you will pay for dinner.

You stare at Jude for a moment, evaluating his words. His smile is confident, but there’s a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes, as if he’s waiting to truly understand who you are and how far you’re willing to go. You set your glass down on the counter, tilting your head slightly.

“That depends,” you whisper, your voice seductive. “If this place is really as interesting as you say.”

Jude smirks, clearly pleased with your response. He straightens slightly, slipping one hand into his pocket while the other rests casually on the counter. “I won’t disappoint you, doll. Promise.”

“Oh, really?” you tease, raising an eyebrow. “I hope you always keep your promises, Jude.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I’m not the kind of guy who leaves things unfinished, trust me. Shall we go?”

You slide off the stool, grabbing your purse and shooting him a quick glance. “Lead the way, then.”

Jude steps back, motioning for you to follow. He guides you out of the bar, where the night air is cool and speckled with the city’s lights. He turns toward you as you walk, his stride confident yet unhurried. “So, doll, where are you from? I get the feeling you’re not from around here.”

“What makes you think that?” you reply, smiling with a hint of challenge.

“The way you carry yourself, the way you talk,” he says, casting a sideways glance at you. “You don’t seem like someone who gets lost in places like this.”

You chuckle softly, appreciating his attempt to read you. “Maybe you don’t know me well enough to say that.”

Jude grins, slowing his pace. “You’re right. And that’s exactly why I want to get to know you better.”

You both stop in front of an elegantly parked car along the curb. He opens the door for you, a gesture that seems effortless for him. “Don’t worry, it’s not far,” he says, noticing your curious glance.

You settle into the seat, and Jude closes the door behind you, walking around to get into the driver’s side. As he starts the engine, a faint smile plays on his lips. “If I disappoint you, I promise I’ll bring you back here immediately.”

“I hope you live up to the expectations, Jude,” you reply, holding his gaze with an intriguing smile.

The drive is short, and soon you find yourselves in front of a small lounge bar illuminated by soft lights. There’s no crowd, just an intimate atmosphere that seems tailor-made for personal conversations.

“Here we are. This is one of my favorite spots,” Jude says, opening the door for you again.

He leads you inside, and you pick a secluded corner. The music is soft, almost a whisper, and the warm lighting accentuates his features in a way that’s hard to ignore.

“So,” he begins, leaning against the table, his eyes studying you closely. “Tell me something about yourself. Something no one else here could ever guess.”

You smile at him, tilting your head. “What kind of question is that?”

“One that reveals who you really are,” he answers without hesitation. “And I want to know who you are, doll.”

You bite your lip, considering his request. Maybe, for once, it’s worth taking the risk and letting a small part of your mask fall away.

Jude looks at you carefully, smiling. “So will you answer my question?” he whispers making you smirk

His question takes you by surprise, and for a moment, you just stare back at him, not entirely sure how to respond. “That’s a pretty personal question, don’t you think?”You respond with a smile, trying to maintain a sense of mystery. But his intense stare makes it hard to keep up your guard.

Jude grins slightly at your comment, leaning closer.“Yeah, it is. But that’s the point. I want to get to know you. The real you.”

He reaches for a strand of your hair, gently twirling it around his finger as he looks at you, his gaze intent and curious.

Your heart skips a beat as he touches your hair, the sudden intimacy of the gesture catching you off guard. But you don’t pull away, curious about where this is going.“And you think asking me to reveal something no one else knows is the best way to do that?”

He smiles at your response, moving even closer, his leg brushing against yours under the table. His hand now rests lightly on your arm, the warmth of his touch leaving a pleasant shiver down your spine.“Maybe it’s not the best way, but it’s definitely the most direct. And I like to get straight to the point.”He seems genuinely interested in your answer, his eyes not once faltering from your face.

You take a deep breath, feeling more exposed than you thought you would. His proximity and undivided attention has you on edge, but in a good way. “Fine. But it’s nothing too exciting. Just a silly little childhood dream.”

You pause for a moment, wondering if you should really tell him this. But something about the look in his eyes makes you decide to let your walls down, at least a little bit.

Jude gives you an encouraging smile, his fingers tracing soft patterns on your arm as if to say, ‘go on.’

“A childhood dream? Now you’ve got me curious.”He seems genuinely captivated by your every word, patiently waiting for you to continue.

The feeling of his fingers on your arm makes it hard for you to concentrate, but you do your best to ignore the sensation and focus on your story.“When I was younger, I used to love drawing. I would spend hours sketching and painting, dreaming of becoming an artist. But my parents had other plans, and they convinced me to study something more practical, something that would ‘secure my future.’”

You pause, wondering if you’ve shared enough. But Jude doesn’t look away, waiting for you to continue.

He smiles softly, clearly intrigued by your story. “They wanted you to be safe. Understandable, I guess.”He considers your words for a moment before adding,

“But not everyone has to listen to their parents, doll. Why didn’t you continue drawing anyway? Follow your passion?”

You let out a soft sigh, a bit surprised by his question. It’s something you’ve asked yourself countless times before.“It’s not that easy, you know? They were so convincing, and I was so young. I thought they knew better. And then college happened, and my life took a different path.”You pause, a pang of regret in your voice.

“I still draw sometimes, as a hobby. But I never did pursue it as a career.”

Jude listens intently, his eyes fixed on yours, a mix of understanding and curiosity in his gaze. He seems to mull over your words for a moment before speaking again.“But deep down, I bet you still wish you had, right?”His question isn’t an accusation, just a gentle poke to the part of your heart that still yearns for that long-forgotten dream.

His words hit a nerve, and you can’t help but feel a pang of sadness at the truth behind them.“Sometimes, yeah. Late at night, when I can’t sleep, I find myself wondering, what if?”You look down at the table, tracing invisible patterns on the wood as you continue.

“But I guess it’s too late now. I’ve built a life I’m comfortable with, and it’s too late to change it all.”

Jude reaches for your chin, gently guiding your gaze back to his. His touch is soft, almost comforting.“It’s never too late, doll. Never.”He looks at you intently, his eyes reflecting a mixture of understanding and something else – encouragement? Inspiration?

His words ignite a small flame of hope in your heart. But you’re still hesitant, doubtful.

“It’s just a dream, Jude. And dreams rarely come true, right?”You force a weak smile, trying to cover up the fact that his words have struck a deep chord within you.

Jude’s eyes don’t leave yours, his expression serious but still gentle.“That’s where you’re wrong. Dreams do come true, you just have to chase them, fight for them.”He pauses, his fingers still lightly holding your chin, his gaze unwavering. “And if you want something badly enough, no one should stop you from getting it. Not even yourself, doll.”

His words hit you harder than you expected. The sincerity in his voice, the confidence in his tone, it’s all so different from what you’re used to hearing. You feel a flicker of inspiration, a small spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, he’s right.“You make it sound so easy.”You say it lightly, almost jokingly, trying to mask your sudden vulnerability.

Jude chuckles gently, releasing your chin but letting his hand rest lightly on your arm again. “I’m not saying it’s not difficult. But anything worth having, anything worth fighting for, is never easy, right?”His eyes search yours, as if trying to see past the barriers you’ve built around yourself.

You can’t deny the truth in his words. But the practical, logical part of your brain is still struggling against the idea, trying to find ways to shoot it down.“But what if I fail? What if I’m just a bad artist, a lost dream?”The doubt and worry are visible in your eyes, despite your efforts to hide them.

Jude just smiles at your retort, his hand moving down from your arm to rest on your thigh, giving a gentle squeeze. “Then you fail. And you pick yourself up, dust off, and try again. And again. And again. Until you make it. Or die trying.”His voice is firm, but his eyes are warm, filled with a genuine belief in you that you’re not used to.

You smile nodding "thank you". He returns your smile, his hand still gently resting on your thigh, the touch sending a wave of comfort through your body.

“No need to thank me, doll. Just saying the truth.”He looks at you in silence for a moment, his gaze soft but intense, as if he’s trying to read your thoughts.

Your heart skips a beat under his intense gaze, your mind swirling with a mix of emotions. The confidence in his voice, the passion behind his words, it’s all so different from the usual people you interact with. “You sound so sure, so certain,” you murmur, your voice soft and laced with a tinge of awe.

He smiles, a hint of something else lurking in his eyes – pride, perhaps? Or is it satisfaction at having sparked a slight flicker of hope within you? “Because I am. I’ve seen people chase their dreams, and the ones who succeed – they all share one thing. Determination, doll. A will so strong, nothing can break it.”He gently squeezes your thigh again, his touch firm yet reassuring.

you smile and look at him softly, placing your hand on his hand that was resting on your thigh. He watches as you place your hand on his, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, then a soft smile as he interlocks your fingers.

“That’s the spirit.”He tightens his grip on your hand, the heat of his skin against yours sending a thrilling shudder down your spine.

The gesture is small, but it feels intensely intimate in the dimly lit room. You can feel your breath quickening as his gaze remains on yours, his eyes now slightly darkened with something you can’t quite place.“You really have an answer for everything, don’t you?”You try to keep your voice light, but it betrays you, sounding slightly huskier than usual.

His smile widens at your reaction, clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on you. He moves slightly closer, his hand never leaving yours, now resting on your intertwined fingers laying against your thigh.“Only when it comes to things that matter, doll.”He looks down at your thigh, before looking back up into your eyes, the intensity in his gaze almost too much to handle.

You felt your heart racing and you began to look at him with pure intensity. He seems to visibly react to your stare, his gaze now almost predatory, his grip on your hand tightening subtly, yet enough to make you realize he’s just as affected by this moment as you are.

“Careful there, doll. A look like that can get you into trouble.”His voice is now lower, a hint of huskiness there that sends a pleasant shiver down your back.

[metyouinthehallway]

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠…

𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫!𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬

જ⁀➴ Stuck in my ways - partynextdoor. Long drives. Bartender. Doesn’t drink. Nonchalant as fuck. Slowly falling for stripper!reader. Yapper. Tom Ford, Ombré leather. Homebody. Never late for a shift. Protects the dancers like his life depends on it.

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

જ⁀➴ Youforia - Mac Miller. Party girl. Stoner. Brown lip gloss. Juliette has a gun, not a perfume. Stiletto nails. Life of the party. Fluffy coats. Hates her job. Dirty martinis. Girls girl. Shopping sprees. Prada.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠,

You let out an exaggerated sigh, your breath misting in the cool, damp air. Pulling open the back door, you make your way down the hallway and into the dressing room. The chatter of the other girls talking about their usual clients and what dances they plan on doing tonight fills the florescent lit room.

“Hey,” you smile at your coworker. Sitting in your chair, you pull out your makeup bag beginning to touch up your makeup. Luckily, you’d worn your skimpy outfit underneath a baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants so you didn’t need to change today.

“Saturday night! You excited?” Your coworker asks as she draws a line of glue on her false lash. You nod in response, setting the concealer beneath your eyes.

Saturdays are the busy days. The most money but the worst customers. Rich businessmen would drop any amount of money if it meant they’d get a private dance from you. Offering to buy your ‘love’ as if they didn’t have wives of their own waiting for them at home.

“Sure…” you draw out the word, applying a fresh coat of lip gloss. The both of you go back to your own makeup routines, women applying heaps of lotion to their legs behind you.

You finish your makeup, pulling off your comfortable clothes to reveal the lewd outfit hidden underneath it. You glance at yourself in the mirror, knowing damn well you look sexy. Looking good meant performing good and performing good meant money.

Walking out to the floor, Purple and red neon lights flooding your vision as you head straight to the bar first. Chris, the bartender, nods at you and begins pouring you a shot of vodka.

“Hey pretty, it’s busy tonight.” He hands you the small glass. Downing the shot, you hand it back to him, opening your mouth to respond.

“Mhm… trust, I’ll be back for another shot. Or two… or three.” Chris shoots you a sympathetic smile, adjusting his ball cap. He watches as you trot your way to the stage.

The whistles and cat calls of half hard men are heard over the thrumming bass line that bounces off the club walls. Putting on a performance face, you step onto the platform, twirling around the pole a few times.

You don’t look at the men, you never do. It disgusts you, the fact that this was how they relaxed. Some of them visiting at least three times a week. Instead, you watch Chris, watch him serve the sober, watch as he falsely laughs at the same three jokes that he’s told.

Three private dances and one absolute creep later, the night stills. Most of the dancers had already left but you stayed and counted up your cash at the bar top. Chris stood on the other side of the bar, cleaning out the last of the used glassware.

You have stacks upon stacks of cash from tonight alone. Those idiots would willingly go bankrupt for a fucking lap dance and it shows.

“For you,” Chris smiles warmly, placing a martini glass in front of you. A toothpick which impaled two green olives was leaning against the inside of the glass. He had made your favorite, a dirty martini.

“Thanks.” You reply, it coming out more dry than intended. The bartender leans against the counter, resting his chin on his hands and cocking a brow at you. “I’m fine,” assuring him with the dry huff of a laugh, you continue counting the cash you’d earned.

“Don’t look it. What’s got you so upset t’night?” Chris presses his lips together, waiting for a response.

He’s been working at this damned club since you first started two years ago, always been nothing short of respectful to you. Taking time to converse with you after you perform, making sure no customer ever made you feel uncomfortable or laid their hands on you. Shit, if a man in this club ever laid hands on any of you dancers, Chris would go ballistic. You’ve heard plenty of stories.

Working in a strip club, you’d assume most men only did it for one reason. Chris didn’t though, He was here simply because the money was good. He never eyed any of you up and down, never hit on you. He was incredibly reverent when it came to you dancers.

“Just tired, it’s hard work, y’know.” You frown, bundling a stack of twenties and shoving it into your money bag. Resting your head against your palm, you toy with the toothpick, sucking off an olive. “Shits actually exhausting.”

“Well, you know I admire it. Not in a fucked up, perverted way. But like, damn, I sure as hell couldn’t do that.” Chris stutters over his words slightly. Straightening out his posture, he returns to cleaning out the bar glasses.

You nod, understanding what point he’s trying to get across. Quickly chugging the cocktail that’s meant to be sipped on, you stand up from the bar stool, about ready to leave for the night.

“You okay to drive? Y’drank a lot more than usual tonight.” Chris inquires. He always seems to pick up on the smallest things, like the slight frown on your face as you sat at the bar.

“I’m chill.” You answer, standing up from the bar stool, you collect your tips, bagging the rest of it and tucking it under your bare arm.

“Better safe than sorry. Let me take ya home.” He finishes the last of the dishes, drying off his hands and padding himself down for his keys.

Willingly, you agree. This is Chris, the bartender after all. He wouldn’t let anything harm you. “Yeah, just let me go grab my stuff.” You motioned to the back room, disappearing to clothe yourself and grab your belongings.

Respectfully, he waits outside the room for you. Leading the both of you out to his car, a sleek black coupe with tinted windows... Sexy. He’s taken you home a multitude of times in the past, each time he’d ask you about your life outside of work and you’d do the same to him. You thoroughly enjoyed the drives with him actually. Getting to know him on more than a workplace level, It was refreshing.

The ride to your home is calm, the soft beat of R&B plays throughout his car speakers while he tells you about the bizarre customers he’d dealt with tonight.

“I told the guy he was cut off ‘n he deadass growled at me. Like a fuckin’ dog!” He laughs blandly at the memory, his eyes never leaving the road in front of them.

“No way… god, I hate working at a club. Being considered slut and shit.” You admit, the thought that only consumed the crevices of your brain finally setting themselves free on your lips. It felt as though an anvil had been lifted off of your chest.

“I don’t think you’re a slut at all, actually. I know it’s a good way to rake in money so I don’t blame ya.” He defends, slowing down at a stop sign ahead. Chris looks at you for a moment before continuing the journey to you home.

"Well, thanks. Gets the bills paid and shit but that's about it." You reply, picking at a loose thread on your sweatshirt.

The rest of the drive is mostly silent, Chris would occasionally rap a few verses to himself and you'd hum along to the songs you knew.

"Call me before you come into work tomorrow, I'll give you a ride." He offers, since he basically stripped you of your car tonight.

Tomorrow. It seemed so far away but it’d only be a few short hours before you had to wake up and repeat the cycle all over again.

“Thanks, bartender.” You tease, earning a small chuckle from Chris. He watches as you make your way to your front door and doesn’t drive away until he’s sure you’re inside and safe.

∴.·:*¨¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

A/n: My first au! Omg I have soooo many ideas already pleaaaase send asks about them I’d love to answer

[belphegored]

nsfw alphabet • Sitri

•°•♡minors dni; mentions of temperature play, exhibitionism, jealousy/possessive behavior, masochism, impact play, creampies. minors dni

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Sitri is incredibly fussy and tender.

He often gets too wrapped up in pressing light, fluttering kisses all over your face and body and whispering words of adoration. Tries to be utmostly gentle while he's fucking you, and although he doesn't always manages to, he at the very least makes up for it afterwards, making sure to soothe your aches while he cuddles you into slumber.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Goes without saying that his favorite part of you is your heart; he'd live glued to your chest if that were possible. Sitri adores all that comes with listening to your heartbeat of course, but through mere association has developed a thing for your chest in general. He does love to use your tits as pillow, to nibble and kiss along your collarbone area and such things.

Of himself, he likes his hands the most. Yes, he has a nice ass and so has a pretty face too, but he is most proud of his hands because he links them to his own resourcefulness and capabilities. He can touch, hold and protect you with them.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He would rather cum inside you than anywhere else, should you give him the choice. He's unsurprisingly jealous and possessive despite how cool he tries to play it in front of others, so really Sitri wants nothing more than to claim you and finishing inside is the best way to do so. It feels so good too, he just can't help wanting to fill you up each and every time.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Daydreams of being the one to make your heart race. Most of his downtime is spent imagining different ways on which he could manage to. From surprising you a little bit while you are unaware, to embarrassing you so much that you break a sweat, or his guilty pleasure: scaring you...

Sitri gets caught on the fantasy, almost a vivid echo of the sound of your heartbeat on his mind playing all the time, gets hard in public and suddenly its a good thing that he doesn't have such a thing as shame but still gets the stink eye from Ppyong and Satan because they know.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's experienced and skilled but not boastful about it. Doesn't much like talking about his previous lovers (especially not about the human ones and much less with you) but Sitri certainly knows his way around.

Most of what he learned about sex has been taught to him through Solomon, and even if he can't tell, it comes across in the way he loves you.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Missionary or lotus or just any position on which Sitri can rest his face on your chest; he's not at all picky as long as he can see your face and your expressions, too. All that said, positions from behind and on which he can't watch you offend him, he'd get all sulky if you ever suggest doggy

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

To have Sitri in a goofy mood you'd have to catch him sleepy, tired from a week of hard work. He lets his defenses fall down unadvertedly and doesn't even realizes he's being a little silly, blowing raspberries on your abdomen before he worships your pussy and such. Otherwise he's uptight and intense.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Takes good care of his appearance and is a little vain but not overly so.

He trims his pubes only because he's conscientious but it's not like Sitri is too hairy anyway. His light colored body hair is very soft and has a very peach-fuzz like quality to it, and looks especially pretty in example down his happy trail.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

He's incredibly open, intimate and emotional. Sitri doesn't even wishes he was nonchalant or less intense about intimacy and you in general; he's devoted to you and it shows in the way he makes love. There's not a moment where his hands are not holding yours, nor that goes without him reassuring you of the extent of his adoration.

He can't be casual, he worships you constantly with every deep, messy kiss and hard thrust and hopes that each load he empties inside you makes you see how much he's willing to give.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Doesn't do it too often. He only ever masturbates when he knows you won't be around on a good while, but otherwise prefers to tease himself to the thought of you for hours, the whole day even -he can hold on-, so you can find him a needy mess when you return to him. It's just much more rewarding than a solo session.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Besides his thing for hearts, Sitri is a masochist; he's a demon, he can withstand roughness and is especially fond of impact play being on the receiving end.

He's also into sensual stuff like sensory play, biting, crying (you making him cry and not even out of pain, just from being overwhelmed is such a turn on).

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Bedroom, chaises... bathtubs are as experimental as he gets in this regard, he's a bit of a purist and just likes to be comfortable enough to give you the attention you deserve.

He's also (though unaware of it) big on ambience; I'm not saying he curates playlists for sex and lights candles for the ocassion but he does like to make things feel special and not rushed or carelessly done. An unmade bed would be a turnoff because he's a prince he thinks you deserve better...

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Other than your heart's song right against his ear, he can easily be enticed by bossiness and you giving him orders. Although he won't reject sweet displays of affection, he much prefers petulance, insubordination, crudeness in the way you treat him.

He's a masochist, and if you ever playfully say something about hitting him, just know it's not a joke for him and he'll actually be expecting a slap across the face or something at least. Biting and rough play also get Sitri going.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Share. He won't share you at all, don't even joke about it or mention it at all. He has enough with the notion of having to share you with other demons in pacts and circumstances; if you grant him exclusivity he hopes you can keep your word.its a really sore spot for him, to doubt of the bond he has with you. He's a little jealous <3

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Sitri is definitely more of a giver and could spend any amount of time between your thighs; he's not too hung up in making you orgasm a certain amount of times or anything, just loves your taste and how your thighs feel clamping around his head.

He's slow at it if only because he adores to eat you out so much, and oftentimes wakes you up with little pecks to your clit because he just can't help it, knowing you're bare and spread for him and having to resist putting his mouth on you.

Will make eye contact the whole time, too...

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Sex with him often starts gentle, deep and slow paced until he starts to lose it, and then Sitri can't actually tell he's manhandling you and roughing you up just a bit too much. He's not used to humans and forgets his own strength even when taking things slow; what is a shallow thrust for him has you feeling him all the way up your guts.

Sitri tries to be sensual and more often than not he manages, but the bruises along your hipbones and aching between your thighs are testament that you're not fucking just anybody.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He will take what he can get but is not a fan of quickies, can't see the appeal behind them and he much rather take his sweet time with you.

The only exception is when said quickie is risky too, say near exhibitionism, on a tight deadline or something similar; the thrill behind that, Sitri can savor for obvious reasons.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He would try anything for you with blind trust, but isn't all too adventurous by himself. Blame it on a lack of creativity for sex especifically or on the fact that he's too focused on you to care about experimenting, but it's not like he'll come up with something crazy out of nowhere.

The times he does though...he doesn't hesitates in telling you right away in a blunt manner.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

As all demons he can go for basically as long as he wants to and its likely you will be worn before he feels even remotely sated.

Still, Sitri is extremely serviceable and thoughtful and would only go as many rounds as you can withstand. If he notices you're getting tired or sore, he'll pretend he's had enough and cuddle you instead.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He does <3 riding crops, silken blindfolds, cuffs, mostly to use on him but can be easily conviced into using them on you as well.

His personal favorites are cockrings though, especially vibrating ones; he has a modest collection of them and loves to wear one on the daily for you, keeping himself just expectant enough.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Just the right amount, he would say. He is not a tease and sometimes is scared you're gonna pull away entirely if he pushes mind games too far, but truth be told he would love to be mean and have you on edge from time to time.

The less rational side of him wants to get some payback from you for all the time you've been kept away from him, wishes he could edge you and not give you what you want until you're begging, but ultimately you're his soft spot, so Sitri cannot follow through with all that.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Breathy, mumbling and almost loud but for your ears only. At times he can't really help the lewd moans he's allowing you to hear from him, and at time he downright does it on purpose because he knows how much you loves it when he gets noisy.

He's not one to talk filthy to you or be overly vocal other than in sounds (as opposed to words), he's too preoccupied with listening to your heart.

That said, his breathing hitches pretty quickly and it's quite cute.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He's into temperature play, especially cold. Loves to have you tease him slowly sliding an ice cube up and down his torso, around his chest, over his nipples and along the length of his cock until he's broken.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Above average size, cut and pretty, it's the kind of dick that beckons you to press little kisses all over it. The tip blushes up from pink to reddish the more aroused he gets.

He has a near permanent indent on the base from just how often he wears cockrings.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Sitri's libido equals to yearning and is also dependant on you; he's not just horny or needy, he longs to be with you pretty much 24/7 in any way he can, and could he get away with that, he would.

There's no such a thing as "not in the mood for him", so whenever you want him is fine by Sitri, he's pretty much at your disposal.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Pretty quickly, it's cute. He's hardly ever truly satisfied, as he could keep going for several rounds, though once Sitri settles by your side to spoon you it's over. He's courteous enough to wait for you to fall asleep first the first couple times you have sex with him. Once he gets truly at ease, he's likely to doze off first, his attempts at staying awake for you futile and silly looking. He'll start mumbling whatever ad he kisses lazily over your shoulders and you know he's gone.

[netherfeildren]

At the Restaurant

The LOVE Collection:

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC

Summary: It’s two days til Christmas, and you’ve never known want like this, and his eyes are glossy with emotion and everything he won’t ever let himself tell you or anyone else, and you so badly want to tell him that it’s only that it’s hard to be casual when your favorite bra lives in his dresser, and also that you’re in love with him.

-OR-

the Christmas situationship AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Written in 'You' Format; Modern AU; Christmas fic; Angst; Fluff; Miscommunication; Emotionally unavailable idiots; But also idiots in love; Toxic relaationships; Situationship; There is nothing well adjusted about any of this pls don’t come into this house if that’s what you’re looking for; Trigger warning for man with an avoidant attachment style; Condolences to all my fellow victims of The Situationship; Size Difference; Unprotected Sex; Creampie; Oral Sex (F!Receiving); Frankly some pretty pathetic behavior; Girl stand UP; Fuckboy Din; Plan B and Delusion as a form of birth control; Pull and pray baby pull and pray; Possessive Behavior; Jealousy; Insecurity; Trigger warning for Right Where You Left Me by Taylor Swift references

A/N: Hello and welcome to my contribution to the holiday fic pool! This is not at all what I was planning as my holiday piece, but I woke up a few mornings ago and was just completely taken hold by this. Much love and thanks and gratitude and all the kisses in the world to my friend @f0rlornmyths for all the help on the idea and brainstorming and for the gorgeous edits she made for this little story. Mai baby, this is all for you, and I know it's not the Christmas gift I promised you, but I swear, one day that too will get written.

I’m wishing you all the happiest and most relaxing of holiday seasons. I think of you all constantly and wish you all the best always, and I hope you’re taking care of yourselves during this time ❣️🎄✨

Word Count: 8.2K

Read on AO3

At the Restaurant

He gets this sparkle in his eyes when the bar’s extra busy, cheeks flushed and curls damp with sweat and this shine that speaks; that tells of all the things he does that make a woman belong to him whenever he’s giving her his singular attention. Eyes that laugh and crinkle at the edges with happiness. Eyes that tell you how much he does or does not want you at that specific moment. And he’ll laugh and blind the room into seduction under the Christmas lights, and then he’ll turn, suddenly remembering you’re here for him, and look at you all serious-like, while you sip on your tequila soda, with two limes always because he knows that’s how you like it, and it’ll be a serious, cool look for just a second before it blooms into the best smile anyone’s surely ever had in all history, and you love him. 

It’s two days til Christmas, and you’ve never known want like this. You’ve never practiced restraint of this kind either. A restraint that suffocates and kills and could probably be taken as a form of self harm were you in a righter, more clear mind, but it’s the only thing you have left against him. Din. A control over yourself that falsely feeds you the illusion of power. You never call him. Never. Any interaction, any late night fuck, any time he comes over and comes inside you, it’s always, always because he calls you, he looks for you. You never beg, not with words at least, and you never text first and you never ask him if you can see him, and it’s the only way you tell yourself you maintain even a semblance of control. And at night, when you’re alone and it’s dark and you’ve only got the cat for some sad company, or you’re crying in bed because he hasn’t called, and you know he’s not at work and he’s obviously not at home, so he’s somewhere you don’t want him to be, that false sense of control that says you’re never the one reaching out, it’s always him coming around so surely that must mean something… it’s all you have at the end of it. 

He’s not your boyfriend. He never has been. And there’s always been that excuse you use to soothe yourself with of, well, we’ve never really talked about it, and he’s not really my boyfriend, so it doesn’t really matter. Does it? Doesn’t it? You’re sure you don’t know anymore. And you tell yourself, lie to yourself, comfort yourself, whatever it is your tired heart needs in that moment, because it truly is so tired, the push and pull is the most exhausting game in the world, that if he’s coming to you it’s because Din’s choosing you. Even if just for a night, even if just for now, even if tomorrow he’ll be with someone else, he chose you for tonight, and so surely that must mean something. It’s the worst thing you do to yourself, but it feels so good in the moment. You just can’t help yourself. 

“Another one?” He calls over his shoulder with a smile.

 You’d had a little bit of a… well, you don’t really know what to call it. A falling out, perhaps, because the two of you never have fights. You never fight, you never discuss the things the two of you should discuss, like feelings or anger or resentment or boundaries and wants and needs. Nothing. Nothing that indicates anything that might define what it is the two of you’ve been doing for two years with each other now. Fights are something couples do, and you two are not a couple. But up until three days ago, you’d not heard from him for two weeks. Two weeks of nothing, of hearing from your friends that they’d seen him out with his friends and other girls who you know probably mean nothing, even less than you do, but still. It’d made you insane. A little bit irrational, and so when you and your friends had gone out over the weekend, picked up a group of guys at the new bar you’d chosen for the night, since Din’s bar was off limits at the moment, and brought them back to your apartment at your roommate, Bo’s, insistence, well, you’d thought you’d give him a taste of his own medicine. After a slightly tipsy, teary eyed rant, explaining to your new friend for the night, a one Toro Calican, who had a very nice smile and very pretty eyes and not at all bad arms, all about your terrible situation with this man who you were not really in a relationship with, but who you have sex with, and only with him, regularly, unprotected, enthusiastically, but who is still not your boyfriend and not even anything close, he’d arranged himself very nice and cozy-looking in your bed with your twinkly lights sparkling in the background and your pink pig stuffy which Din loved to make fun of you for, and you’d taken a very tasteful, in your opinion, picture of him for your Instagram story. Again, a taste of his own medicine. 

Din had been at your front door forty five minutes later, angry. Angrier than you’d ever seen him before, and not at all trying to hide it. Pushing past you and into your apartment all tall and broad and wearing your favorite dark blue hoodie he knows you love, curls mused as if he’d been pulling his fingers through them in agitation. There’d been a sneaky, smarmy little devil inside of you doing a happy dance at that moment, and his eyes when he’d turned to glare at you after giving poor, Toro – casual, entirely unbothered, Toro with his big smile stretched across his handsome face as he’d looped an arm over Bo’s shoulders where he’d been sitting beside her on the couch – a look that said Din had half a mind to take him outside and wipe the floor with him. But your new friend had laughed him off, taking Din’s terribly cocky onceover, the sort he liked to set people down with, in stride. All arrogance and the sort of self assuredness only a man who knew what he was made of and how to take care of himself could possess. He was too hot for his, or your, own good. 

And when he’d turned and pushed you into your bedroom, a little tipsy, a lot desperate and pleased and wet, because yes, finally you were getting exactly what you wanted, exactly as you’d asked for it, and he’d flipped your skirt up and ripped your panties down and buried his face in your cunt from behind, all: this pussy’s mine, what the fuck was another dude doing in your bedroom? You’d been nothing but pleased giggles and hiccupy little moans as you’d come on his tongue just as he’d demanded of you. 

It was wrong. The two of you were wrong and maybe even bad for each other, but also, and this was only your own personal, fanciful discernment, addicted. A mutual addiction. The way he fucked you, hard and deep and possessive, like you belonged to him. Tugging you up by the hips and pulling you back onto his hard cock, the wet slap of your pussy dripping for him so that it surely echoed through the thin door of your shitty little apartment for the man who’d threatened what Din saw as rightfully his could hear exactly what was happening in here. You should have cared more about this ridiculous display of a pissing contest. You should have been bothered by it. You absolutely were not. And when he’d gone harder than stone, shoved deeper than you could comfortably take him so that you were coming around his cock one last time from the stretch and sting of it, and he’d filled you to leaking without even asking, you’d not even blinked at it, had been nothing but contented sighs.

It was all wrong, wrong, wrong.

Even worse, you’d never been on birth control. It made you sick, tired, moody, and the two of you worked around it… sometimes… kind of. Condoms when you remembered, usually ripped off mid fuck, pulling out… also sometimes. Never very responsible or dedicated to the practice of safe sex and level headedness, more focused on how fucking good it always felt when he was inside of you like this all bare and wet and hot and his. And if he fucked other girls, well, you tried not to think about that. Got tested, told yourself you were the only one he didn’t use protection with because you were special when they were not. And if there was, that last horribly misguided whisper that said, well, if he’s taking this risk with you, then obviously that means something too, right? Then so be it.

Again, like you’d said, bad for each other. 

But he always gave you so many reasons to be stupid, delusional, like the way he’d kissed you before he’d gone the morning after, while you were still sleepy and warm and a little sweaty from where you’d been pressed together so close through the night, wet and sticky between your legs from his come. He’d wrapped his arms around you and pressed you so, so close to his chest, nipples bare and tight against hard muscle and wispy hair. The musky sleep smell of him as he’d started at your shoulder, mouth slow and damp, kissed and nibbled his way up your collarbone, your throat, your jaw, settled at your ear to taste that soft place behind, pressed his tongue there to feel the echo of your pulse moving through your whole body, the flutter of his long lashes against your skin because he’s just that close. Your toes had curled and spasmed, little and cold, bracing against his hairy shins and big feet, hard cock nestled between the warmth of your thighs. And he always makes the best sounds, you know, deep and rumbly and all man. Familiar sounds that you’re able to replay again and again in your mind afterwards when he’s gone, sounds that make it easy for you to pretend he’s yours because you know them so well, and you want to keep him so bad it makes your stomach hurt. Gotta go get the kid, he’d said, by way of explanation for why he wasn’t pushing up into your come soaked cunt and having you one more time again, but he’d stayed and kissed you. And when he’d finally found his way to your mouth, sipping on you, tasting behind your teeth, along the wet of your tongue, that was all that really mattered anyway. 

Sometimes, he kisses you like he loves you, and it makes you hate him. 

He hadn’t called in the three days since then, but he’d been kind enough to DoorDash you a Plan B and a bag of your favorite Dove dark chocolate bites, and you want to hate him and maybe even run him over with you car, you really do, but then tonight, out of nowhere while you’d been at home telling yourself you weren’t going to cry, tired and sweaty from lying under your duvet for too long, fingers slippery between cunt and cotton, too many unsatisfying orgasms and a tear worthy film already chosen as your excuse for later, he’d sent a: come to the bar tonight, baby, I want to see you. And well, he’d come looking for you, right? He’d texted first. So really, this was all him wanting you and choosing you.

You need help, electroshock therapy, a lobotomy, anything. But you’d gotten your butt up and dressed, begged Bo to come out with you, and now here the two of you sit, good friend that she is, waiting for him to finally come over and say more than three stringed together words to you. Shaved, lotioned, perfumed, pathetic little ass sitting at the end of his bar in a too sticky, too uncomfortable stool waiting for him. Always waiting for him.

You shake your head no at him and his proffered next round. No you don’t want another fucking drink. What you want is his attention. 

And the worst part is, probably the worst, for there are so many bad parts to this, is that you don’t truly think he’s a terrible person, Din. He’s just so… he’s just– you don’t know. Sad, busy, exhausted, selfish, overwhelmed, so many things. But not bad, not actually a bad person. You’re sure of it. And it might look so differently from the outside, like you’re nothing, like he uses you, and sure, in ways, he does. You’re not so stupid or naive to not see this for what it is, because if there is one thing that is crystal clear here, it’s that you’ve always known what this is and what it is not. But you also see him. You also know him, as hard as he’s tried to keep you at arms length, to not let you see, to not let you in, you’ve weaseled your way inside anyways, or, better said, and something you don’t let yourself dwell on too much for the things it makes your stupid brain and heart feel, he has never been very good at not letting you see him. Because despite all the truths of how this thing between the two of you is, or is not, there is also something, as small as it may be, that is real here. 

So no, Din is not bad, or not all bad. And it’s easy to call them excuses, but you’re not so sure that’s the only thing they are, the ways in which you justify his behavior or yours. Because there is also context to him, and his life, and the things that drag his attention away from you when you so desperately need and want it, why you know he won’t commit to one single thing because he knows how easily lost a good thing can be. 

You take a pull from your straw, paper, and it’s already coming apart in wet flakes on your tongue because this dumb bar he works at pretends to be swanky, and paper straws are obviously a signifier that it’s not the cheap, shitty dump it actually is. Mean, but you’re in a bad mood tonight. Peli, the owner, had him string up multicolored lights and decorations everywhere for the holiday season, and it sort of looks like Santa threw up in here, but it’s also nice. Cozy or comfortable or welcoming, something happy and cheerful about the crowd surrounded by the sparkle of the holiday and loose from the heavily poured liquor. Or maybe it’s just that you know he put up the decorations. That he’d been good and patient and helpful as the older woman, eccentric and curly haired and a little stern and potty mouthed as she is, but always kind to him, had directed him as she pleased. Giving orders so that the bar could look as lovely and warm and cheerful as it does now. He always looks at her with such care and warmth, and you alway see it, as much as he tries to hide it. 

He’d added a splash of sweet grenadine and a maraschino cherry into your drink tonight, and called it your slutty Shirley Temple, said you looked like you needed something sweet followed by one of those cocky little winks he thinks make him look hot, they do, but you tell him only make him look like an asshole. All of which you know is only his way of telling you, without actually telling you, that he’s going to be shoving his cock down your throat later tonight. Something sweet… yeah, sure. There’s nothing sweet about him. 

He always tells you so many things neither of you want the other to know with his eyes. The stupid things, the silly things, the real things, it doesn’t really matter. He can’t ever help it. 

The first time he’d told you about his parents, you’d thought: this is it, this is something real. The come down had been a singular type of devastating you don't think you’d recovered from to this day. They’d died in a home invasion, a robbery gone terribly, terribly wrong, when he’d been two months shy of eighteen; left him with too much responsibility and too much grief for a boy of seventeen to bear, to ever be able to grow into without growing a little bit skewed in the process. When he’d introduced you to his little brother, the first time, you’d been better prepared, better in control of yourself and your expectations. But still, still you’d let a small, small part of you let it mean something. Grogu, Greg, but they used to watch this cartoon together about this man, a warrior, a space cowboy of sorts, who finds a little green baby, more frog looking than baby looking, called Grogu and takes him in as his own, bringing him along on all his adventures through the big, wide galaxy. They’d always joked that Greg looked like the frog baby, and so, Grogu. 

The first time he’d asked you to come over, you’d forced yourself to not throw up as you’d seen the text come in, had to force away thoughts of this has to mean something, please, please, let this mean something more. And the kid had been asleep already anyways when he’d smuggled you inside, quick and quiet, locking the door to his bedroom behind you, messy and lived in and Din, Din, Din everywhere, pressed you into his rumpled mattress, and fucked you til you’d cried and bit your tongue until you’d tasted blood to keep in all the things you had inside to tell him. And in the morning, when he’d made you a cup of coffee and oh, isn’t he nice for that? The kid had stumbled out of his bedroom, dinosaur pj’s and sleep rumpled curls the same warm mahogany shade as his older brother’s turned pseudo father, and he’d had his waffles while you’d sat there between the two of them as Din’d clucked around making lunches, sipping from your mug trying as best you could to be a good girl and not whip around and scream at the man that this has to mean something more, please. 

The kid had eyed you skeptically, as if you’d had two heads, little fuzzy brow cocked high up towards his curl covered hairline while he chomped loudly on his waffles. More syrup than bread, but who were you to judge? 

“Are you Din’s girlfriend?”

And rather than drop dead on the spot or bear the devastation of hearing the refusal come out of his older brother’s mouth, the second you’d seen Din’s own eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline, mouth falling open to probably tell him no, absolutely not, she’s nothing even close to being my girlfriend, you’d said as easy as you could manage, “No, we’re just friends.” Even added in a fake, tepid smile as you’d said the words. And now, as time’s passed since then, when you think back on the memory, you tell yourself that you’d imagined the frown and scowl that’d pulled Din’s face down into something that looked a little like annoyance or anger or confusion. He’d never done anything to make you think you were anything otherwise, and so what good did it do to dwell on the maybe false memory of his look of disappointment at your words? None at all, surely. 

But you’re pretty sure you’re the only girl that’s ever been let into their space like that.

He’s at the other end of the bar now, engrossed in a conversation with someone who’s too sparkly and too pretty and too blonde to be anything but trouble for you. His tall, deceptively lanky form that you know beneath the dark baggy, long sleeved tee he’s wearing is strong and muscled and warm as a furnace, curved over the lip of the bar to lean further towards her. They’ve been talking for about five minutes now, yes, you’ve been counting, and your heart is doing that horrible thing it does where it hurts so bad it feels like it’s ripping in half all on its own. You want to look away, especially as you watch the long, gorgeous form of his hand, big, strong hands that you know exactly what they feel like wrapped around your throat, clutching your breasts, lift slowly towards the glowing Christmas lights necklace the girl’s got hanging around her neck, the cheery red and green lights nestled deep in her cleavage. He plucks at the necklace, giving it a little tug and says something to her that has her throwing her head back, and she sparkles, she really does, with those sort of laughs that tinkle like bells or something equally fucking ridiculous.

“We should just go, babe,” Bo says from beside you, glaring down at him so intensely you’re shocked he hasn’t keeled over dead at this point. 

“Just a little bit longer, Bo, please.” 

“God, I can’t watch this shit anymore.” She pushes up and out of her stool with a roll of her eyes, but passes a loving hand down the back of your hair as she goes. “I’m gonna go try and pick up that red head sitting in the back. She’s been eyeing me all night,” she smirks at you. 

“You cannot date another ginger. That is too much ginger for one household.”

“Oh, shut up. You’re in love with the devil, I can do whatever I want. And I can’t watch him anymore, I don’t have the stomach for it.”

You try and protest as she walks away from you, tell her that you’re not in love with him, that he’s not the devil, that you don’t have the stomach for it either, but she’s gone before you can muster your lies. When you turn back towards the bar he’s abandoned his Christmas lights blonde and is pouring drinks for a group of frat guys, checking I.D.s and making easy, charming conversation. He’s strange in that way, quiet and reserved by nature, which you know now because you know him, but he puts on a face in here, in Peli’s bar in front of the customers and the pretty girls and the people expecting him to perform for them, making nice and pleasant. It’s just one more thing that feeds your delusion, the fact that you see his smile for what it is, the too handsome, too shiny version you know isn’t the real one. 

You know that despite the fact that Bo loves you, she also thinks you’re a little sad, a lot weak, when it comes to him. Maybe even, and you know she’d never say this because she’s a good and loving friend, but maybe even a little pathetic or desperate. And maybe you are, or definitely, you don’t really care about the details of it at this point, but maybe there’s also something about him that’s slightly desperate too. Desperate for love or attention or companionship. Maybe that’s why he always feels the need to search for it in so many different places. Maybe he wants it so bad he’s scared of it. Or maybe he’s just easy. Maybe he’s just a whore. 

You don’t know if the why’s of it all really matter anymore. 

He serves the group their shots and beers, all of them clinking their glasses together loudly, hooting and wishing each other a Merry Christmas, and you want to snap that it’s not Christmas yet, it’s still the twenty third, it’s a special day that should be remembered, but you turn away. Try to swallow the heat in your face and throat, take deep breaths. Bo’s right, the two of you should go, but when you turn to search for her, she’s deep in conversation with the red head, gorgeous, strong and tall and just her type. Their two heads huddled closely together beneath the red lights that turn their hair both brighter shades of auburn. And you know you can’t interrupt. At least one of you should have a good night tonight. But when you turn back around, ready to join the frat bros in on their shots, he’s there. 

You swivel in your stool, catching yourself on the lip of the bar, digging your nails into the wood grain until it hurts, staring at him in silence. 

“What?” he asks with that slightly provoking smile he forces on you when he knows you’re bothered and refuse to open your stubborn mouth and just speak up. 

“Nothing.” Stubborn, sullen. Terrible.

He hums, laughter dancing in his eyes that pisses you off. He knows you’re bothered, knows you won’t say anything about it either. “Want another?”

“Sure.” You might as well get drunk if you’re going to have to watch him be a jackass all night long. 

He starts to move about, gathering the things for your cocktail. “You like the grenadine I added?”

“Yeah, it’s good.”

He looks at you with a half smile and a cocked brow as he measures the shot. He never makes your drinks as heavy handed as the others, says you’re a bad drunk. Whatever. “Yeah? You like the Christmas decorations?”

“They’re nice.” He hums again at your sullen tone. And you want to be nicer, happier, peppier, whatever it is that would be enough to make this all right and better between the two of you, inside of you, but you just can’t. You can’t force yourself into a shape that’s okay with being without him, and it’s getting harder and harder to pretend it’s something you’re capable of. 

He adds your two limes and tops the drink off with a Santa printed mini umbrella Peli had gotten an order of in bulk, pushing the glass into your hand. He braces his hands against the bar edge, watching you as you bring the drink up to taste, peering over the edge to keep your eyes on him. The lights twinkle over head, washing him in a glow of greens and reds and warmth, and his eyes do that terrible sparkle you hate in return. 

Sometimes you think he likes it when you’re pissy. Turns him on or something which sickly, stupidly, in turn, riles you up, knowing he’s turned on by your anger. 

You take a long pull of the fizzy, mildly sweet drink, licking your lips of the tang and bubbles when you pull it away, and watch as his eyes go a little hazy, glassed over as he watches the wet of your tongue peek out to lick up the drops of sweet liquor. You watch a swallow pass through the strong column of his throat, and his gaze is still on your mouth when he cocks his head at you. “C’mere,” he murmurs, eyes shifting to take in the crowd, the customers and the status of their drinks before he’s tugging at your hand over the bar, drawing you out of your seat and along the length of it from the other side. 

“To where?” You whisper at him, nerves of excitement, of want, fluttering in your belly and throat all fizzy and sweet. He tips his chin at the cracked open door of the stock room, the warm glow from within peering out, and then back again once over at the crowd before you’re at the end of the bar, and he’s tugging you inside after him. You tip your chin over your shoulder just before he kicks the door shut behind you, taking in Peli’s knowing look and the laughing shake of her head, and then it’s just the two of you. Hungry and hurried as he’s pulling you into himself, big hands immediately cupping your ass to tug you up into him with a cracked groan. “Want to fucking kiss you so bad,” he licks into your mouth, tasting like the coffee he drinks too much of and the cinnamon gum you know he’s always chewing. 

“Din–” and you’re about to protest, say that everyone’ll have seen the two of you come in here, Peli, the blonde Christmas light girl, that the whole bar is going to think he brought you in here for a quick fuck, but you and he both know you don’t really care if anyone thinks that. That probably, if you’re really honest, you’d be glad for everyone to think you’re his that way. So you kiss him back. Arms looping around his neck to hang off of him, fingers twining in the thick curls at the nape of his neck, the hair there so silky smooth, cool at the ends but warm and damp at the roots. And this is what you were talking about, when he kisses you like he loves you which makes you hate him. All tongue and teeth and desperation. His mouth sliding against yours, spit slick and heat heavy. Big hands kneading at your ass, clutching at the short skirt of your dress, pulling it up so he can shove his palm between the nylon of your tights and your warm skin and cup you over the wet mound of your cunt. 

“Fucking warm and soft for me, baby.” He kisses his way down your neck, licking at your cleavage, tugging at your ear. “You smell so good,” and he squeezes you against himself, dragging his palm back and forth over your pussy as best as the constricting tights let him. “I can’t wait to fuck you later.”

“Me either, Din,” you say because there’s nothing else to say besides, I love you. Please, love me back. He groans into your mouth, pressing you back into a little arc hooked over his arm, something frenzied and a little sloppy about the way he kisses you like he wants you so much he can’t control himself. And when the two of you stumble out a few minutes later, hair tousled and flushed with heat, the shine of your lipgloss transferred onto his own lips and those sparkly eyes of his cranked up to blinding so that the whole bar can see what it is the two of you have been up to in the stock room, there’s nothing but sweet, fizzy pleasure suffusing your belly. Even if it isn’t real, everyone else thinks it is, maybe for tonight that can be enough. 

-

“The tree’s really cute,” you say as he helps you out of your coat, unwrapping the scarf from around your neck, round and round until he lets it slither from his hand onto the messy floor of his bedroom. 

“Yeah, well, G wanted a real one so… my ass went out and got him a real one.” 

You reach up to card your fingers through the floppy curls falling over his forehead, pushing them back to twist in your fingers and pull his head down towards yours. “Good brother,” you murmur against his mouth. You want to ask him if he remembers what tonight is; wanted to ask him all night but kept your mouth shut for fear of that utterly vacant look in his eyes when he’d have no idea what you were talking about. 

He settles into your kiss, knees bent to come down to your level, sighing deep and long as he licks at you slowly, sucks on your bottom lips, a gentle nip. “Looked so pretty for me tonight,” he says, and he’s such a good kisser, and all you can say is a breathless thank you, trying to swallow the immediate lump in your throat back down because the only other thing to say would be you’re right, it’s all for you, or I hate it when you say these things to me, I hate it when you’re nice to me and then turn around and act like I’m a stranger, like I’ve never meant anything to you at all. You press up higher, insistent, on your tiptoes, trying to get closer, more of him. He runs his hands up the length of your spine, one arm banding around your waist, the other coming up to twist in your hair, tugging your head back sharply and pulling your mouth from his. 

“What do you want, sweet girl?”

And what a cruel, terrible question. You, is what you should say. Ruin the moment or the false magic, glass shattered on the white cloth. And so, “Fuck me,” is all you say instead because that’s all this is anyway. He peers down at you, fathomless look on his face, no more bright sparkle in his eyes, something more like an ember. You think you like this look better, it’s more for you, and there's something satisfying about that. 

“Okay, baby. Whatever you want.”

He pulls your clothes from you slowly, and he can be so tender sometimes, slow and precise in the things he does, the way he moves. Sometimes he fucks you hard and fast and sloppy. But not always. Other times he does it in a way that is much, much worse. Slow and deep and intentional. He lays you out across his messy bed and spreads you open for himself. Starts at your feet, kissing the soles and the creases and marks over the arches and around your ankles from your tights and boots. Up the slope of your calf, teeth dragging sharply, a little too hard over the muscle. He kisses the backs of your knees, a place only he has ever thought to kiss, and you won’t cry, but you’d like to. His tongue along the soft of your thighs, stubble chafing and tickling, and when he finally gets to your cunt, soaking wet, glossy with your slick for him, his tongue drags up your slit slow and teasing one second, deep, fucking inside of you the next. He makes you come on his face twice before he even thinks of being nice and letting up. Sucking on your clit, taking each soft lip gentle, gentle between the edge of his teeth and tugging so soft you almost don’t feel it. He licks and licks and slurps up your wet, and you know he enjoys this because of his own sounds. When he rips his t-shirt over his head because he’s steaming with sweat and want, the zip of his jeans ringing so that he can get his fist around his cock and jack himself while he licks up the splash of your second orgasm. 

He kisses you everywhere when he’s had his fill, twists and turns you this way and that, groping and kneading and taking every inch of you in so that no spot of skin is left uninspected or untasted. Pulls you up and under his arm so he can peer down at you from behind, lemme look at that little asshole now, he says all nasty the way he gets sometimes, and spreads your cheeks apart. You brace yourself against the column of his throat and hold on to the bulge of his bicep and try and breathe through your mouth and pray for control and temperance and the will to not spill all your truths to him. Difficult, when he manhandles you like this, when he pets and licks and kisses you all over and tells you how pretty all your holes are for him. 

His cock is so hard when he finally settles on his knees between your spread thighs, on your back again so that you can see his pulse in the tiny, subtle beat of his erection as it stands up, curving towards his flat belly. No condom, and you want to say thank you for letting you feel him like this. 

He pushes your knees wide and grips his cock, twisting his fist around the sticky glossed head, flushed red almost purple. You love it when he’s this hard, when you know it’s all for you, when you know you’re the only one in this moment that can fix it for him. 

“Get it wet for me,” he nods his head at your slick cunt, parted and bared to him just like he likes. You dip your fingers into the well of wetness, play in it, watch the shiny string of slick stretch between your pussy and fingers, and no one makes you as wet or as desperate as he does, and like he can read your mind he tells you, no one makes me as hard as you do, and you do not tell him that that isn’t something you want to hear, that that isn’t something that makes you feel good. The reminder that there are others. 

You wrap your slippery fingers around his cock, coating him in yourself and when you pull him towards you, notching him at the mouth of your cunt, and finally – finally, I’ve been waiting for this all night, and you can’t even tell who says it – it’s so fucking good that all the rest of it is worth it for this singular feeling right here. 

He pushes in, in, in, heavy balls pressed against the wet curve of your bottom, and you’re so soaked it’s slid down between your ass, marked his sheets with you, swings his hips back all smooth and wet and shoves back inside. His mouth is at your tits, folded over you, caging you in, biting and sucking on bare, tight nipples he tells you belong to him, cunt he fucks hard and deep he tells you also belongs to him.

He pulls an ankle up over his shoulder, changes the angle and drills into you hard and fast, other knee hooked over his elbow so you’re pressed and folded and presented to him just how he likes and needs, and he makes you say his name over and over, tells you exactly how he wants you to come on his cock just for him. His pelvis bumps your clit on every push forward, too thick cock wedged inside your cunt so that you’re stretched around him and no matter how many times you do this, it always hurts just a little. Like everything else the two of you do together. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans. “You take it so fucking good. Don’t come yet– don’t come. With me– wait for me. I want it together.” And you do cry at that, when he changes the angle once more and shoves in hard against your g-spot, the fat tip of his cock punching against it over and over so that there’s heat pooling at the base of your spine, stars flashing behind your closed lids, your breasts going hot and heavy and tight, stomach clenching with the effort to stave off your orgasm and do as he asks. He breathes into your mouth, and it’s all hot and damp skin and your sweaty limbs sliding against each other, open mouth to open mouth. 

“Now,” he says, pulls you onto him deeper with a tight grip on your ass, long fingers wrapped over the curve so that he can feel the wet, stretched place where he takes you, makes you his. “Take the whole fucking thing,” he whispers against your lips, and as your cunt goes tight as a knot, painful in that way that only he can make it, that’s so good, that way that always keeps you coming back for more, you finally start to cry real tears. Not just from his cock but from the whole of him, from everything he does to you. Your heart beats fast, fast, fast, and you count the days in the month til your period, the little game you like to play with yourself when the two of you are bad like this, and then decide you don’t really give a fuck as he starts to fill you with the heat of his come.

He stays inside of you for too long after the last throb of his cock. Rubbing his lips all over your neck and shoulders and tits, tasting you and giving you too much time to memorize the pattern and cadence of his breathing. And when he pulls out and pulls back to look at the slick, puffy sight of your cunt full of his come, he bends to lick you clean like he always does. Gives you one more orgasm, the last nail in the coffin or your heart. 

Sated and spent, you glance at the clock, and it’s officially Christmas Eve. You know he goes all out for Grogu, milk and cookies for Santa, stockings and gifts, the works. He is an exceptionally good brother, all a child could need in a father figure, and there had never really been any chance of you doing anything else besides loving him. 

When you pull the gift from your bag, heart in your throat and halfway to regret but more resolve than you’ve ever had in his presence, you tell yourself that if this brings on the end of everything, that you’ll find a way to be okay with it. If you’ve gone too far, done too much, you’ll accept it, count your losses, and what great losses they’ll surely be, but you’ll move on as best you can. 

You’d picked some pretty, baby blue paper with little red robins on it, a soft gold ribbon tied around the package. The sight of it makes you want to cry. You’d tried so hard, you really had. 

He’s quiet when you put it into his hands, staring down at it like it’ll reach out and bite his head off if he blinks even once. Swallowing several times before he says, “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know. It’s– it’s for the both of you, kind of.” Him and his little brother.

“I didn’t get you anything.”

“No– that’s okay. I know. You didn’t have to.” Your voice comes out all breathless and full of nerves. You should’ve put your clothes on before you did this, made for a quicker, easier get away if necessary. 

He pulls the wrapping apart slowly, gently untying your ribbon, long fingers carefully picking at the little pieces of tape at each end so that he doesn’t tear the paper and disturb the robins. 

“Where did you get this?” He says when he’s finally unwrapped it, his voice telling you instantly that you’ve made a terrible mistake. 

“It– it was in your drawer. I–”

“You went through my stuff?” He says, eyes snapping up to yours, finally looking away from the photograph you’d copied and framed for him. A picture of him and his parents. Din, a boy of maybe eight, gap toothed, cheesy grin and messy curls between his smiling parents. They looked, very much, like a deliriously happy family, and you’d thought it such a shame it was stuffed in his sock drawer when you’d found it, left to be forgotten. You’d only wanted to do something nice for him. 

“N–no. I mean… not intentionally. I was looking for my extra clothes – the ones you told me to leave here – and I–” your lashes flutter, overwhelmed. He suddenly looks so angry. “I saw it in your drawer. I didn’t mean– I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry, I–” You don’t know what to say. All of your falsely held control in tatters at your feet and tears in your eyes as you take in the horrible look on his face. Shocked, angry, hurt, but his gaze leaves the photograph again, shifts back to your face at the crack in your voice. 

He presses forward, as if to reach for you, realizing you’re about to cry. “It’s fine.” I’m sorry, Din, you murmur again. “It’s just–” He shakes his head, a frustrated noise in his throat, his voice all graveled and cracked like yours. He seems so much like a boy in this moment. A child confronted by a past he was too young to lose when he did, forced into the shape of a man too soon. “You know that this–we–” He motions between the two of you.

“Yes. I do,” you cut him off quickly. Assuming what he’s going to cut down here between the two of you before he gets the words out. He doesn’t need to say it, not out loud. He doesn’t need to be that cruel. The strength it takes the both of you to bite your tongues in that moment, as you take each other in, swells to a near painful pressure, and there is something so sick here between the two of you. His eyes are glossy with emotion and everything he won’t ever let himself tell you or anyone else, and you so badly want to tell him that it’s only that it’s hard to be casual when your favorite bra lives in his dresser, and also that you’re in love with him. 

“Thank you,” he finally says quietly, and you can’t answer, looking away out at the dark night through his murky paneled window. It looks like it’s about to snow, all the ingredients for a perfect Christmas at play. The room is so warm and his bed is so comfortable, and you feel so full of fragile and soft things inside. “You’re going to see your family tomorrow?” He still has the picture frame in his hands, fingers smoothing methodically over the edges, thumb swiping gently over the happy faces inside. 

You clear your throat, “Yeah, tonight. I’m going to my parents house, spending the night there.” And it’s on the tip of your tongue to invite the both of them to come too. You know your parents would love to have them, you would love to have them there, him, but the words stick in your throat with the fear of his rejection, and the two of you fizzle awkwardly into a heavy silence. 

You look out at the window again, too much of a coward to look into those bright eyes, but you can feel his gaze on you, singing the side of your face, and suddenly you feel him scoot over towards you. Deep sigh, dragging the duvet with him, wrapped around his bare shoulders all messy hair and flushed cheeks still steaming from your sex. No one should look like he does. No one. It’s the most unfair thing that’s ever happened to you in your whole life. He grips you around the bend of your bare knee, pulls you halfway into his lap, and your eyes are still fixated out on the night, the dark much safer than anything that lives inside this room.

“You remember when we met?” He says. The tears are back. “It was tonight.” Two years ago.

You tip your chin at the window. “At the restaurant…”

“...Down on eighty seventh street. Two years ago.”

“Yes.” You finally look at him. “I remember,” you whisper. Your mouth feels so dry, your heart so flinty.  

“The place had all those string lights put up, and we sat at that table outside in the back behind that group having their Christmas work party. You remember?” Of course you do. You only can't believe he remembers. He’d been wearing an olive green half zip sweater, and he’d smelled of laundry detergent and whiskey and cinnamon gum when he’d kissed you for the first time. 

“I had the best old fashioned I’ve ever had at that place. We should go back. And it was so cold, you remember? You never stopped shivering.”

“Yes, Din. I remember.”

“That was a good night.”

“Sure it was,” and it comes out with a bite you can’t help, for so many reasons you can and cannot explain. 

He gives one of those non committal hums he loves to provoke you with, that little glint back in his eyes. “Sure it was? What?”

“Nothing.”

“Is there something you wanna talk about?” The white elephant in the room, come to ruin everything, shatter all the glass, disturb the dust in your hair and break your heart. 

He tips your head back by your chin, two fingers holding you there, never letting you go. You shake your head at him caught up in his grasp like that. “No. I don’t want to talk about anything.”

And he gives you the strangest look, and for one second you wonder suddenly if that look you’ve always taken as provoking is not so much teasing, but more pleading, more knowing. “No…” he says, chews on his thoughts, strong, scruffy jaw with the heart shaped patch moving side to side. “I know you don’t,” and leans forward to press one single soft, chaste kiss to your open mouth. “You know what you are?” He says then, and the look is now entirely unknowable, confusing. 

Your eyes flick back to the window. “What?” Back to him again, breathless. 

“You’re my girl.” And out of the corner of your eye, you can see that there, finally, is the Christmas snow.

Part 2: Cannibals

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog!

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Hi!!! I love your Amelia and Emily fics so much, I’ve basically binged them 😂 I was wondering if I could request an Amelia x reader fic where maybe reader is like 6 months pregnant with her and Amelia’s first child and has a bad history with her dad and her dad comes into the hospital with his new wife and her kid and it just stirs bad feelings for reader and Amelia comforts her? Maybe autistic reader? Thank you so much!

Thank you so much! 💕 I'm so, so glad you enjoy them! Also, thanks especially for an autistic!reader request, they're some of my favorites to write! Hope you enjoy! – illdowhatiwantthanks

The R Word

Amelia Shepherd x fem!autistic!reader Warnings: autism struggles, ableism, use of ableist slurs, overstimulation (the autism kind, not the sex kind), explicit language, pregnancy times (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: It's a typical day working with a child in the ER when your estranged father shows up and makes you feel just as small and stupid and alien as he did when you were growing up. Amelia is there to comfort you and remind you of who you really are.

“No, Mommy!” the little girl wailed as she writhed on the hospital bed. “I want to go home!”

Her mom looked at you apologetically as she tried to soothe her child. You needed to get her vitals. Based on the mom’s description, you also probably needed to get IV fluids and an antiemetic in her. But you knew that wasn’t going to happen while the kid felt scared and overwhelmed. This wasn’t your first rodeo with kids in the ER. In fact, the other ER nurses often called you over when kids were difficult to work with. They called you the “bad kid whisperer.”

You knew better. They weren’t bad kids. They were usually just scared. There was a lot to be scared of at a hospital. And you were good with them because you understood better than most what it was like for your body and brain to feel so overwhelmed that you could no longer regulate your emotions. Being autistic was hard sometimes, it made you stand out, but this was a place where it made you stand out in a good way.

You lifted your hands to show the little girl that you were setting down all your medical instruments.

“It’s okay,” you said quietly, pulling the curtain closed around the bed. Sometimes making the space smaller helped. You bent down to her height, careful to keep your distance and not to touch her.

“I’m Y/N,” you said. “What’s your name?”

The girl didn’t answer, shaking as she sobbed.

You nodded. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk right now. Do you feel like you can’t breathe or anything?”

The girl shook her head.

“Good. Then all this other stuff can wait, okay? I’m not gonna touch you. No needles, no thermometer, no heartbeat or anything until you feel a little calmer. We can wait.”

She seemed to calm down a bit when she realized you weren’t going to make her do anything, her sobs subsiding to the occasionally aggressive sniffle.

“Here,” you offered, pulling a tiny tech deck skateboard out of the pocket of your scrubs. “Sometimes when I’m scared or nervous, having something to do with my hands makes me feel better.” You rolled the skateboard toward her, and she started running it across the rails of the hospital bed, her breathing starting to calm.

“Better?” you asked.

She nodded.

You started taking her vitals and continued the conversation. “You think you can tell me your name now?”

“Maddy,” she whispered.

You smiled even as you read her temperature: 103.4. Pretty high. She was almost certainly dehydrated. “That’s a really cool name. Now, do you know why your mom brought you here?”

“I threw up,” she told you, lip quivering.

“Oh, man,” you commiserated. “That’s the worst. I hate throwing up.”

Maddy nodded.

“Did you throw up just one time or a lot of times?”

“A lot.”

You exchanged glances with the mom to make sure this information was accurate.

“She can’t keep anything down,” the mom worried, biting her nails.

“Okay. Well, that’s okay. We’re gonna help you feel better. First, we’re gonna get some fluids in you. Do you know what that means?”

She shook her head as you gathered the supplies and pulled on gloves.

“It means your tummy is so sick that when you drink water, it all just comes right back out. And that’s not good because your body needs water. Your heart and your lungs and all the things that make you healthy and strong, they need water. So since you can’t swallow it, we’re gonna put a little tube in your arm and send water through the tube. That way your body gets the water it needs. And we’ll send medicine and electrolytes and all kinds of other good stuff to fight the sickness, too. It’s like we’re sneaking weapons past the sick.”

This explanation seemed to cheer her up a bit. “Like a secret mission?” she asked.

You nodded conspiratorially. “Exactly like a secret mission. But to get all that good stuff in there, we’re gonna have to put a needle in your arm. Just for a second! It makes the path for the supplies to go in.”

Maddy seemed to think deeply about this, then nodded. You had her play with the skateboard while you placed the IV line, ensuring that she was comfortably positioned for a good hour or so of fluid intake.

“Thank you,” her mom mouthed to you, and you gave her a quick thumbs up before adding a few reminders to your chart–what to check in the next hour, etc.

Maddy, now calmer, took a good look at you for the first time, from your glasses to your fingers that twitched by your ears, to your stomach that protruded out past your waistline–you were six months pregnant.

“Why are you so fat?” Maddy blurted out.

“Madeline Grace!” her mom hissed.

“It’s okay,” you laughed. “My tummy looks like this because there’s a baby in there. But some tummies are just bigger than others, too, and that’s okay. All tummies are good tummies.”

“Where’s the daddy?” she asked, reaching out to brush her hand over your stomach.

“No daddy,” you explained. “This baby has two mommies. His other mommy works upstairs. On brains.”

“Brains!?” she squealed.

You nodded. “Yeah. She’s pretty cool.”

Just then, the relative calm of a midday ER was interrupted by a loud, brash voice, bursting through the doors, yelling at the nurses at the station.

“Where the fuck is my daughter!? Middle of the fucking work day. Unbelievable. Am I going too fast for you? Read my lips, sweetheart. Madeline. Y/L/N.”

You froze, any icy stream of panic running from the back of your neck all the way down to your heels. You’d know that voice anywhere. It was an angry voice, a coach’s voice, the voice that had yelled at you to “stay the fuck in the bleachers” when all you wanted was to sit in the car and breathe. The same voice that growled at you to stop “doing that shit with your hands, you look like a r*tard.” The same voice that told you over and over that you weren’t “stupid enough to be on the short bus,” but you were “too stupid to function in real life.”

You felt your brain start swirling, felt panic building in your chest. You knew he’d gotten remarried, of course you knew. But you didn’t talk to him, hadn’t talked to him in nearly a decade. You knew they’d had a kid, but you didn’t know it was this kid.

All the ER noises, the beeps of the machines, the buzzing of the overhead lights–were they getting brighter?–the clang of instruments being set down, wails, conversations, and above it all your dad’s voice. Your dad’s voice. It was too much. It was all way, way too much.

You felt your hands start to shake at your sides, your body swinging back and forth, and you had to stop. You had to stop. Your dad would kill you.

He threw back the curtain, and his jaw dropped when he saw you.

“You!?” he spat, looking down. “Are you pregnant!?”

Maddy seemed oblivious to the tension. “Daddy!” she called. “Her name is Y/N and she gave me this little skateboard and the water is fighting the sickness through my tubes and she has a baby in her tummy and the baby’s other mommy fixes brains.”

You tried so hard not to stim, but it was not working. 

“Don’t tell me you’re a nurse?! God, it’s a miracle you didn’t fucking stab her. You shouldn’t be holding any needles with those flappy arms. Probably shouldn’t be holding any babies either.” He shot out his hand and grabbed Teddy’s arm, which was wild to you. The audacity of the man to assume he had the authority to bother the trauma surgeon. “Yeah, honey, we need a different nurse over here. This one’s a r*tard.”

Teddy looked flabbergasted and deeply offended, but also concerned, as you clenched your teeth, hugging yourself, twisting your body back and forth. “It’s doctor, sir, and that word is not welcome at Grey-Sloan. Y/N is a perfectly capable medical professional. In fact, she’s one of our best, especially with kids.”

“I don’t know if you know this, but I feel like it’s my responsibility to tell you,” your dad whispered loudly to Teddy. “She’s got autism. She shouldn’t be handling tools or people or anything.”

Teddy pressed her lips together in frustration. “As I said, sir,” she repeated more forcefully. “Y/N is a perfectly capable medical professional, and we’re lucky to have her. But I’ll get another nurse over here for you. Y/N?”

Teddy beckoned you over, careful not to touch you, and led you to a quieter corner of the room.

“Who the fuck is that guy?!” she asked.

“M-my dad,” you stuttered. Everything in the room–sounds, lights, smells, all of it–seemed to be crashing over you again and again. As if you’d been knocked over by a wave and couldn’t get back up again because they just kept coming.

“You want to hang out in one of the on-call rooms for a bit?” Teddy suggested.

You nodded.

“Should I page Amelia?”

You shook your head. “She’s in surgery.”

Teddy pulled out her tablet to look. “I mean, we could just check.”

“Don’t bother her,” you repeated. “She’s got work to do. I’ll be okay.”

You made your way to the elevator and up to an on-call room, breathing heavily when you shut the door against the rest of the hospital. You turned off the lights, curling into a corner of the bottom bunk and pulling your knees up to your chest–or as close to your chest as they could get with your baby bump in the way.

You rocked yourself back and forth, thoughts spiraling. The movement and the dark usually calmed you down, but you were having a hard time regulating today, and nothing seemed to be working. Your breath just got faster and faster. And the fact that you couldn’t get yourself out of your spiral only made you spiral more.

You knew you were a good nurse. You knew that. You knew because you’d done it. But you hadn’t ever been a mom before. What if he was right? What if the baby made you overstimulated and you yelled or lashed out? What if the baby went to school and you went to parent nights and he was embarrassed of you, of how you couldn’t make eye contact and didn’t start conversations right and didn’t get the jokes. What if being autistic made you a bad mom?

You had tears streaming down your face by the time you heard a light knock on the door. It creaked open and Amelia’s head popped in. When she saw it was you, she quickly let herself in and locked the door.

“Oh, babe,” she said, watching your body rock back and forth in huge, aggressive sweeps. “A bad one, huh?”

“Go away, Amelia,” you hiccuped.

“Hey,” she said, jokingly. Then when she got closer and saw the tear tracks on your face, she said it again, quieter, sitting next to you on the bed. “Hey.”

When you didn’t say anything, Amelia shrugged. “Teddy said your… dad was here?”

You nodded.

She let out a deep breath, running a hand through her hair. “Honey, will you let me hold you? Please?”

You nodded again.

“Alright,” she said, waiting for your body to line up with hers as you rocked, then quickly grabbing you up in her arms, like she was catching something midair. “Gotcha.” She rocked with you.

“What did he say?” she asked, her breath warm on the top of your head.

“That I shouldn’t hold medical tools or babies because I’m a fucking re– I don’t want to say it. I hate that word.”

You felt Amelia’s arms tighten around you, and her breath came out in huffs. She was very angry. “As you should,” she told you. “It’s a nasty word. And it’s a word that doesn’t describe you at all, you know that.”

“I don’t know, Amy,” you whispered into her chest. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Babe, I think that ship has sailed,” Amelia said, running her fingers through your hair.

“Not my dad,” you explained. “The baby.”

Amelia was quiet for a moment, then you felt her lips press against the top of your head.

“Oh, honey,” she said, her voice soft. “Of course he’ll like you. He’ll love you. You're his mom.”

“But what if I’m bad at it? What if autism makes me bad at it?”

“Y/N,” Amelia said, gently grabbing your face and positioning it so that you had to look in her general direction, if not in her eyes. “Look how good you are with the kids in the ER. You’re gonna be an incredible mom.”

“I’m just scared,” you admitted.

“I’m a little scared, too,” Amelia told you. “But you know what? I think we’re gonna be okay. Me and you together? I mean, surely, combined, we can be at least one whole good mom, right?”

You giggled.

Amelia grinned at you. “There she is.”

You were quiet for a moment, playing with Amelia’s finger, with the edges of her scrubs.

“You know what you are?” Amelia asked after a bit, kissing your forehead. “You are smart and kind and empathetic. You’re funny and brave and you work hard. You’re my favorite person in the whole world.”

You looked away.

“Hey,” she said, pulling your face back toward her again. “I don’t like people talking about my wife like that. Even you.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around her waist and pressing your face to her chest.

“Are you going back down there?” Amelia asked.

You shrugged.

“Want me to check if your dad’s still here?”

“Would you?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said, standing and placing one more kiss on your cheek. “In fact, I’d really like to talk to him.”

“Don’t do anything that’ll get you fired, Amy,” you called after her.

She looked back at you and winked as she walked through the door. “Can’t make any promises.”

[gekkosgirl]

a kiss | gekko.

summary: gekko, after freaking out about the intial text about it, meets up with you at the mall to help out with decorating your room

pairing: gekko (mateo) x gn!reader

cw: SFW! mild language, pda (kinda awk), teasing(?)

notes: wrote this one pretty quickly, but still love it nonetheless. just so you can get inside my mind, i was listening to >one - greater than one by valorant and ericdoa (literally gekko's song)

word count: 1.8k

Gekko nearly tripped over his skateboard when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out with a quick swipe and saw your name light up the screen. The moment he read your text—"Hey Mateo, wanna hit the mall with me? Thinking of sprucing up my room a bit. Could use your help!"—his heart skipped a beat.

A grin spread across his face so fast that it made him look ridiculous, but he didn’t care. “No way,” he muttered to himself, rereading the text just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

Without thinking, he sprinted to Reyna, who was chilling on the couch in the living room, scrolling through her phone. “Yo, Rey! Look at this!” he blurted out, practically shoving the phone in her face.

She raised an eyebrow, pulling her face back a little before focusing on the screen. A slow, knowing smile spread across her lips as she handed the phone back to him. “Aw, mira nomás. They’re asking you out,” she teased, leaning back with an exaggerated sigh. “My little Mateo’s all grown up.”

“It’s not a date,” Gekko shot back, his cheeks tinting pink as he tried—and failed—to suppress his excitement. “They just want help. You know, picking stuff out.” He flipped his phone over in his hands nervously. “I mean, that’s cool, right? Like, it’s normal.”

Reyna snorted. “Yeah, normal for someone who likes you,” she said, crossing her arms. “Just don’t do anything dumb, and por favor, don’t forget to actually listen to them. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it!” Gekko said quickly, typing out a response with speed that would make Dizzy jealous.

“Bet! Meet you at 3? Can’t wait, it’s gonna be dope!”

As soon as the message sent, he jumped up like he’d just scored a game-winning goal. Reyna rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile as she watched him grab his jacket.

“Don’t forget your phone,” she called after him, the boy in such a hurry he almost tripped over himself turning to grab it off the table he’d just set it down at. “And don’t forget to be safe on your date,” she added with a smirk.

Gekko paused mid-stride, groaning dramatically. “It’s not a date!” But the way he practically skipped out the door told a different story.

Gekko burst into his room, already stripping off his hoodie and tossing it onto the nearest chair. “Okay, okay, calm down, it’s just the mall,” he muttered to himself, standing in front of his closet. “No big deal. Just helping them with their room. Not a date. Definitely not a—”

His creatures interrupted his self-pep talk, chirping and squeaking as they peered at him from their favorite spots. Wingman tilted his head, clearly judging Gekko’s sudden wardrobe crisis, while Dizzy floated lazily, already bored of his pacing. Thrash let out a playful growl, nudging at his shoes as if to say, “Hurry up, dude.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll shower first!” Gekko announced, grabbing a towel and bolting for the bathroom. The water was barely warm before he jumped in, scrubbing quickly but thoroughly. “Can’t show up smelling like a gym bag. They’ll think I’m gross,” he muttered, rinsing off in record time.

Back in his room, he threw on a clean t-shirt and his favorite jacket, pausing only to fluff his hair in the mirror. “Alright, chill vibes. Cool, but not trying too hard.” He gave himself a once-over, grinning nervously. “Yeah, that’ll work.”

As he skated toward the meeting spot, his nerves kicked in. What if he said something dumb? What if you didn’t actually think his suggestions were cool? His phone buzzed again—another text from you. “Hey, running a little early. See you soon!”

“¡No manches!” he yelped, kicking his board harder to pick up speed.

As he turned the corner, he spotted you standing outside a café, casually scrolling on your phone. The sight of you made his stomach do flips. He slowed down a bit, hopping off his skateboard and rolling it alongside him as he approached.

“Hey, uh…” His voice cracked slightly as you looked up and smiled at him. His brain short-circuited for a second. Why do you have to look so cute just standing there?

“Teo!” you greeted warmly, slipping your phone into your bag. “Since you’re here, wanna go ahead?”

“H-here? Already?” He blinked, trying to collect himself. “Oh, yeah! Of course. Totally. I was just, uh…y’know, warming up my board and stuff.”

You raised an eyebrow at his slightly disheveled hair and the faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Warming up your board?”

“Yep. Gotta keep it…ready for action,” he said, cringing internally at how lame he sounded.

You chuckled, making his cheeks burn brighter. “Well, action guy, let’s get going. I have no idea where to start, so I’m counting on you.”

“Count on me?” His chest puffed up slightly, the nervous energy melting into excitement. “Yeah, I got you. Your room’s gonna look sick when we’re done!”

“Good,” you teased, nudging his arm as you started walking together. “I’ve got high expectations, Teo.”

“Don’t even worry,” he said, his confidence growing with each step. “I won’t let you down.”

Little did he know, you were already impressed—nerves and all.

As the automatic doors of the mall whooshed open, the bustling energy hit you immediately—bright lights, cheerful chatter, and the faint aroma of food court pretzels wafting through the air. Mateo was practically vibrating with excitement beside you, his skateboard tucked under his arm.

“So, where to first?” he asked, glancing around. His creatures peeked out from his bag, clearly curious about the lively environment.

“Well,” you started, scanning the directory near the entrance. “I was thinking posters first. I want something cool for my wall.”

Gekko’s eyes lit up. “Posters? Oh, I got you. C’mon, I know a spot!”

You followed his lead, weaving through the crowd as he navigated the maze of stores with surprising ease. A few minutes later, you both stood in front of a small, vibrant shop filled with an array of posters plastered across every inch of the walls. Bands, movies, art prints—you name it, they had it.

Stepping inside, Gekko immediately gravitated toward a display of music posters. “Okay, so what vibe are we going for? Chill, artsy, total chaos?” he asked, flipping through the rack with practiced ease.

You laughed, joining him. “I’m not sure yet. Something that makes my room feel…more me, I guess. What do you think?”

Gekko paused, tapping his chin dramatically. “Hmm. Alright, lemme see.” He rummaged through a stack, pulling out a bright, graffiti-style print. “What about this? Bold, colorful—kinda like you.”

Your eyebrows shot up, a smile tugging at your lips. “Bold and colorful, huh? Didn’t know you thought of me that way, Teo.”

His face turned a deep shade of pink. “I-I mean, not like that—well, I do, but like, in a cool way!” he stammered, flustered. Wingman peeked out of his bag, chirping at him as if to say smooth move, bro.

You chuckled, reaching out to take the poster from him. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. This one’s actually really cool.”

“Yeah?” he asked, the tips of his ears still red.

You nodded, glancing around the store. “What else do you think? Show me your expert taste.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, regaining his confidence. He grabbed another print, this one a minimalist black-and-white design of a city skyline. “What about this? It’s kinda chill but also classy. Good balance, right?”

“Impressive,” you teased, holding both options side by side. “You’re better at this than I expected.”

“Hey, don’t sleep on me,” he said with a grin. “I know a thing or two about style.”

You spent a while longer exploring the store, occasionally laughing at Gekko’s over-the-top reactions to some of the more outlandish designs—like a life-sized cutout of Rose from the Titatnic.

Finally, with two posters in hand, you headed toward the register. “I think these are perfect,” you said, glancing at him. “Thanks for the help, Teo.” As if on autopilot, you grabbed his chin swiftly and turned it away from you, planting a chaste kiss on his cheek. 

As your hand fell, his went up, touching the spot your lips had been as a moment of savoring. “Sorry.” You giggle, seeing the man standing before you in bewilderment, staring at your face like he'd found treasure. Nonchalantly, you pulled out your wallet to pay but, without a word, his hand pushed yours down. He cleared his throat, fiddling nervously with his wallet to pay the man at the register. As soon as the translation was done, the look of desperation was evident on his face. 

“C’mere.” You gasped softly as Gekko’s warm hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him. His piercing gaze locked onto yours, a mixture of surprise and yearning swirling in his eyes. Your breath hitched as he leaned in slowly, giving you just enough time to either pull away or close the gap.

You chose the latter.

The moment his lips met yours, it was as though the world around you faded. The chaos of the mall—the chatter, the footsteps, the background music—melted into a muffled hum, leaving only the electric connection between the two of you. His lips moved against yours, firm but tender, his confidence growing with every second.

Your hands instinctively found their way to his jacketed shoulders, steadying yourself as your head spun. One of his hands stayed firmly on your waist, grounding you, while the other traveled up your back, his fingertips brushing the nape of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

You pulled back just slightly, catching your breath as your forehead rested against his. Both of you were panting softly, his eyes now dark with an intensity that made your knees weak.

“Teo,” you whispered, voice trembling, but before you could say more, he tilted his head and captured your lips again, deeper this time, as though he couldn’t get enough of you. His passion was intoxicating, and you found yourself melting into him, hands sliding up into his hair as you lost yourself in the moment.

A loud, awkward cough from the man at the register jolted you both back to reality. You jumped apart slightly, faces flushed as you glanced around. A few people were staring, some smiling, others amused, but the world seemed a little brighter as Gekko’s hand stayed firmly at your waist, holding onto you as though he wasn’t ready to let go.

“I, uh, thank you,” he murmured to the man who had rolled and bagged up the posters, a flashy grin tugging at his swollen lips.

Your cheeks were burning, but you couldn’t help the grin spreading across your face as he took the bag, his hand never once leaving yours.

[togrowoldinv]

Sweetheart

College!Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

You’re at a party when your friend’s older sister approaches you. One thing leads to another and you wind up alone with her

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Cursing, oral, fingering, daddy kink, dom!natasha

Note: This is spicy lol. Follow my library blog @togrowoldinvlibrary for fic updates! I’m aware a part cuts off on mobile. See the library reblog for more. Enjoy!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

There she is. Standing across the room from you with a beer in her hand is the girl you have had a crush on from the moment you laid eyes on her. Natasha Romanoff.

Everyone’s favorite mystery girl that no one could seem to get with. The hottest guys and the hottest girls had no luck.

You are friends with her sister, Yelena, and there were countless times that people would ask her how to be approach her sister. She would warn them against trying. Nobody ever succeeded.

She catches you looking at her, but instead of shooting you a hard glare, she smirks at you and takes a sip of her drink. You shiver.

“What was that about?” Your friend Kate appears at your side.

“Huh?” You try to play dumb.

“Nat totally checked you out,” she says.

“What? No she didn’t!”

“Sure, okay,” Kate teases. “That’s why she’s coming this way.”

Before you can reply, Kate sneaks off probably to find her girlfriend. And you turn to walk the other direction, but you run directly into a person.

“Hey sweetheart,” Natasha says. She’s called you that since the first night she met you. Yelena had invited you home for the holidays and Nat coined the term for you. The close proximity to her makes your heart pound.

“Oh hey Nat,” you reply, trying your best to sound cool and collected.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Nat says. The party is crowded, but it feels like you’re the only two people in the room.

“Yelena has been busy with Kate, so-“

“That’s a shame,” Nat says. She moves closer to you. Her hand comes to your chin and lifts it up. It’s like she’s trying to memorize your face with how intensely she’s staring. “I missed you, pretty girl.”

You open your mouth to speak, but no words come.

“Cute,” she says. Her eyes look from your lips to your eyes and back. You think she just might kiss you when suddenly you’re interrupted. Natasha drops her hand from your face and steps back.

“Hey y/n,” a voice comes from behind you. You turn to see a girl that you’ve been out with a couple of times, but she ended up dating someone else instead.

“Oh hey Wanda,” you say.

“Are you here alone?” Wanda asks. You don’t miss the jealous glance she throws at Natasha.

Nat knows what happened between you and Wanda because Yelena had told her. Secretly, she asks after you often.

“Actually,” the redheaded woman interjects. She wraps an arm around your waist. “She’s with me tonight.”

Wanda is taken back by her words. She gives you a measly smile and walks away.

“What was that for?” You ask Nat once Wanda’s out of earshot.

Nat pulls you by your waist upstairs and into a room where you could hear each other better. She shuts the door behind you.

“Well?”

“She treated you like shit. You can’t fall back into that scheme she does. Sure she’s hot, but it’s not worth it,” Nat explains.

“You don’t get to make that choice for me. I didn’t mind telling her that I was here alone. And do you really think low enough of me that you think I’d fall back into her trap?” You ask her. You’re feeling yourself get angry, but Nat just smiles. You sigh. “What?”

“That is the most I have ever heard you speak,” Natasha says.

You feel heat rush up your neck. The fact that you’re alone here with Nat is finally sinking in.

“Oh, I guess I’m kinda quiet. But I just needed you to not have a bad opinion of me and think I’d try to get with her. She has a boyfriend and I would never,” you explain.

She crosses the room to get closer to you. Once again, she invades your space.

“You’re cute when you ramble,” she says. She’s just inches from your face.

“Natasha,” you say, practically breathless from how close she is. You’ve never seen her this up close before. She’s even more beautiful than you thought.

Nat takes your cheeks in her hands and rubs her thumbs over them.

“You’re gorgeous,” she says. You could shrink under her strong gaze, but you stand tall. “Did you know that?”

“No,” you mumble honestly. You’ve never been one to boast about your appearance.

“Oh that won’t do,” she says. “Can I make you know it?”

You’re not sure what you’re about to agree to, but you want to say yes more than anything in the world.

“Yes please,” your words come out and you feel embarrassed but Natasha doesn’t let that last.

She surges forward and presses a soft kiss to your lips. It feels like it never has before. One of her hands comes to the back of your neck as she deepens the kiss. Her tongue slips into your mouth and your knees actually do go weak. She gives you a break.

“Do you believe it now?” She asks.

“I might need some more convincing,” you try your best attempt at flirting.

Natasha smirks and nudges you onto the bed. She crawls onto it and straddles your waist.

“So you can flirt,” she marvels. She leans down and kisses you once again. Her lips feel even better this time. Soon, her lips find their way onto your neck. You feel her lips, tongue, and teeth against your skin.

“Oh Nat,” you moan out and she smiles against your neck.

“Keep doing that, baby. Tell me what you like,” she says between kisses.

“Okay,” you say.

She stops kissing you and lifts her head up. You take in the sight of her above you. She’s ethereal. Her fingers slip under your shirt hem.

“You’re going to have to answer me better than that,” Natasha commands. You look at her confusedly.

“Um- yes?” You try.

“No. Come on, baby girl, you know what I’m trying to get you to say. Can I take your shirt off?” She feeds you the question.

It hits you then what she means. You’ve not called anyone that before, but it feels right with her here taking such good care of you already.

“Yes daddy,” you say. She smirks.

“Good girl.”

Natasha picks up the pace from there. She takes off your shirt and her own before slipping off your bra as well.

She takes one breast in her hands as she licks your nipple on the other. Nat takes her time worshipping your body. Each second makes you wetter and wetter.

“Let daddy take care of you,” she says as she moves down your legs and unzips your pants, slipping them off expertly.

Nat litters soft kisses to your thighs. Your body is threatening to reach your peak without her even touching you right where you need her.

“Natasha, please,” you can’t help but beg. She stops kissing your thighs and you practically whine at the loss of contact.

“Patience, dorogoy,” she says. You don’t know what it means, but the accent she uses makes you even wetter.

She ghosts a finger over your panties and moans when she feels the wetness through them.

“Did anyone ever touch you like this?”

“No. Only you, daddy,” you answer.

“Where did my shy girl go?” She teases you. You turn red at her words.

She smirks and finally pulls your panties to the side before she slips her fingers through your wetness.

“Fuck,” she mumbles. “All for me.”

“All for you.”

She plunges a finger inside of you and immediately you’re moaning louder. Nat wastes no time adding a couple of more fingers and filling you up.

“You take my fingers so well, sweetheart. Imagine what you’d do to my strap.”

And you do imagine it. You can’t help but want that to happen with her.

“Nat I’m so-“

“Come for me, baby. Come for daddy,” she says.

And you do. You coat her fingers in cum and she works you through every moment of your orgasm.

“Fuck that was so hot,” Natasha says. She brings her fingers to her mouth and licks them.

You watch in awe as she keeps eye contact with you. She smirks and shifts to kiss you. Nat leaves you with a bite to your lip before she slips her fingers into your mouth. You suck on them as she wants you to. Once she relents, you try to take control.

“I want to taste you,” you tell her.

“Oh, do you?” Natasha teases.

“Please daddy.”

“Well, I can’t say no to that.”

She lays on the bed next to you and unhooks her bra. It falls to the side. Your eyes go wide at her breasts.

You move over her and suck on her nipples probably for far too long. But the moans you’re pulling from her are well worth it.

Eventually you move on and take her pants off. You’re careful as you pull them down her legs and she smiles at your softness.

“You’re not going to hurt me, sweetheart,” she says. You take them off. She’s wearing boxers underneath. Your brain is fuzzy as you slip them off of her as well.

“Natasha, you’re so beautiful,” you tell her as she lays there naked. She seems shy for first time.

You wonder if this is why no one ever succeeds in getting with her. She has more layers than you thought.

“Please,” she says.

You don’t tease her like she teased you and instead jump right in. You lick her softly and she pushes your head further into her center.

When you take her clit in your mouth, she moans and you add a finger to work in tandem with your mouth.

“Fuck baby,” she says. “I’m so close.”

“Come for me, daddy,” you say.

You love the taste of her against your tongue as she comes. She relaxes and you move up the bed to lay next to her. Nat turns her head to you and you feel shy again.

“Do you know you’re gorgeous now?” She asks.

In lieu of answering, you kiss her lips ever so softly. It takes all of your confidence, but the way she chases after your lips for another kiss gives you a boost.

“We should probably get back to the party,” she says.

“Yeah,” you agree.

But neither of you make the move to get up.

“Yelena’s gonna kill me,” you wonder out loud.

“Oh god. Please don’t say my sister’s name when I’m naked in bed with you,” Natasha says. She feigns disgust and you grin. “But I won’t let her kill you.”

“Thanks Nat.”

After a few more moments, you both get up and find your clothes.

“You ready?” She asks. It seems like another loaded question. You’re ready for everything with this woman and you hope so much that she’ll indulge you in this fact.

“I am,” you answer.

Nat surprises you when she intertwines her fingers with yours before you exit the room together.

You’re hand in hand with Natasha Romanoff, the woman you’ve been in love with for some time. It’s absolutely perfect.

[alemap4]

Of dinosaurs and non dinosaurs

ミ✫A Tsukishima x sad reader✫彡

Tsukishima notices everything. From the way you didn’t speak at all when he picked you up from your house so you two could walk together, to the way you haven’t said a word all day at school. He doesn’t know what’s wrong, but he knows something has happened between now and last night after he dropped you off at home.

He knows your home life isn’t the best, and that sometimes you just get moody, but this feels different. He doesn’t want to worry, he trusts that if something was really wrong you’d come to him, but it’s now lunch time and you haven’t made any move to come to him, instead you lay your head down atop your desk, not even bothering to get out a lunch.

This worries Kei. You’ve never missed a lunch with him, a tradition that started before you two started dating. Even on sick days you’d video call just to “have a lunch date (with third wheel tadashi)” . He knows that no matter how terribly you feel right now, you’ll regret missing lunch. Both for the senamintal and the fact that you haven’t eaten.

“Here” he says, throwing a packaged muffin on your desk, as he pulls up a chair in front of you. It’s your favorite. He specifically buys them just to give them to you, and he’s hoping that one of your favorite snacks will help to cheer you up. “I’m-“you’ve got to eat” he says, interrupting you and peeling your hands away from your face. Now you can see him, even if you don’t want him to see you.

You're okay. There’s nothing really wrong, you just woke up this way. You want to talk to Kei, to fill his world with laughter and be the y/n he fell in love with, but you just can’t bring yourself to. Not today, not right now.

Pulling your, Keis, hoodie over yourself you burrow into it, making sure the hood covers your face. Hoodies are safe, hoodies that smell like tsukki are safer. In a hoodie no one can see you if you cry, in a hoodie you can pretend that your enjoying the muffin you once loved that for some reason taste’s bland today. The muffin like the day, like your emotions, is dull.

“Y/n” Tsukishima says, “you’ve been acting weird all day… is something wrong?”. There’s the million dollar question. Is something wrong? If so, what? Isn’t the problem just what’s going on in your head? If so, how can you just explain that to him? “It’s nothing Kei” you say dismissively. You just want to eat your lunch without thinking, wishing you could just turn your brain off.

You can feel his eyes on you, it’s obvious he doesn’t believe that there’s nothing wrong, but he doesn’t press it anymore. He’s smart. Smart enough to know that you wouldn’t want to get into anything in a crowded room in fear of a potential breakdown, smart enough to know that if you feel too much your subject to just leave the room and not come back, he wants to help you, not scare you off. The next words that come out of his mouth shocks you.

“Did you know that pterodactyls are not dinosaurs? They’re close in families and stuff but pterodactyls are just flying reptiles.” He recites. This is the kind of thing you need right now, dumb dinosaur facts , or well non dinosaur facts, from your reptile loving boyfriend. “Did you know that dinosaurs had really big fleas? The fleas of then being almost ten times bigger than current ones.”

This one brings a laugh and smile out of you. The thought of giant fleas attacking a town Godzilla style finally brings light to your dull day. The sound of your laugh makes Tsukishima crack his own smile, happy that he finally gets to hear the angelic sound of your voice and your blinding smile. He loves you and he’d do anything to see you keep smiling like that, even tell you every possible reptile fact he’s got stored up.

“Did you know that reptiles don’t have external ear openings?” He questions. “Hmm that must make it hard to get ear piercings” you say, “no swag for turtles” you frown. “I think turtles are pretty cool, maybe not swag but cool. I’d be down for owning one” Tsukishima responds. “I guess we can get a turtle one day in the future, though I’d get to name it” you smile.

Your future with Tsukishima, like the day as of now, looks bright. Your mental health hasn’t just completely fixed, but as of right now the voices are quieted. You feel better even if it’s just for the end of lunch. Class is doomed to start again in five minutes but for now you have Tsukishima who’d do almost anything to make you smile, fun reptile facts, and a future with a turtle. Maybe things just aren’t that bad, maybe you’ll be able to be happy.

A/n I wrote this while sitting in bed sad lol:/ idk what’s wrong and I kinda wanted to put that into something without getting deeply into what I’m feeling, I’m not good at expressing myself anyways lol, so I did this! I love learning fun facts or hearing lame jokes when I’m sad they always work to cheer me up! I wish tsukki were real :) also I hope you enjoyed! Comment and reblogs are welcomed and appreciated <3

[happy74827]

Happy Accidents

[Todd Ingram x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You might've broken your leg due to Todd, but that didn't mean you couldn't still have quality time together.

WC: 2672

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

This was such a random plot I came up with, but I’m actually in love with it. I feel that this little one-shot is 100% Todd accurate (I say little but it’s literally 2k words lol).

Also, please don’t send the vegan police after me for my inaccuracies (lmao). Google was my only option 😭😭

『••✎••』

Spending time at the hospital wasn’t the plan you had in mind for your Friday night. You expected it with you curled up on your couch watching whatever crappy reality show that was airing with Todd by your side.

He was always the perfect person to binge with; his reactions were an endless source of sarcastic commentary. It actually made it funnier.

But you couldn't be too upset. You still had Todd, and you had… some television. Sure, it wasn’t 90 Day Fiancé, but it was better than nothing.

Usually, when it came to broken legs, you were at the hospital for two hours. Two. Hours. Not you, of course. Your boyfriend had to be a vegan and have those whacked-out powers. It was a given that there’d be an accident.

Who knew a flying amp could be so hard to catch?

At least you didn't have a concussion. The only injury was your leg, but your leg was completely messed up. Three different fractures in your femur and a torn ligament. It was the most you had ever been injured in your life, including all those times you fell off your bike or when you broke your arm in third grade.

The doctors at the hospital said that they couldn't let you leave until Monday. Surgery was also still on the table and could happen as early as tomorrow, which you definitely weren’t paying for

So, you were stuck in the hospital, eating the terrible hospital food and watching stupid television.

And the worst part about all of this was that it was slowly taking your mind off of Todd.

It was only the last couple months when the two of you started dating. Neither of you were exactly serious or anything, but you had feelings.

He was a big guy and a real sweetheart, not to mention a badass with those powers of his. It was obvious that he had a good heart, and he didn't take shit from anybody. That included you.

You had to admit that it was cute when he got jealous. He never had to worry, though. You were never interested in guys like him. You had your eye on Todd, and now you were stuck in a hospital bed because of him.

Now that it was just a memory, the moment you broke your leg was pretty comical. Envy needed a rehearsal before their band went out on tour the following week, and since you and Todd planned the night out together, you attended their quick practice.

As usual, they were awesome. You were like a little fangirl when Envy started singing. You kept your cool, though, sitting on the couch while they ran tempo and entrances. You weren't paying too much attention either, until you heard a voice and turned your head.

Lynette, the drummer, apparently had a very salty day and decided to pick fights with Envy’s ideas. She even suggested that she should learn how to write songs. That was a big no-no when it came to Envy, and it was made very clear that it would be her last comment for the day.

It was a blur, really. Envy and Lynette were throwing insults at each other, and Todd was caught in the middle of it. He was pretty bad at confrontation when it didn’t technically involve him and so he usually let it slide, but something about Lynette had pissed him off this time.

You could still remember the words he said.

"You know what I hate about you? Your hair."

You giggled, and that was your mistake. Lynette absolutely loved her hair. That haircut was her pride and joy. Todd could never understand what it was about it, but it was Lynette's favorite feature.

So, when he insulted her favorite thing in the world, she immediately started attacking your boyfriend, causing you to go over and try to stop this before it escalated.

Well, it escalated. Todd subconsciously went into “vegan mode” when he was mad. It was a defense mechanism or something like that. In any case, an accidental movement of his hand had an expensive amplifier aimed right at your leg.

Envy saw it coming and screamed his name to get his attention, but he couldn’t hear her over Lynette, and you couldn't move out of the way fast enough.

And then, everything stopped. All you felt was the excruciating pain that was apparently your broken bone, multiple places, as you later found out. Your mind went blank for a moment as all the horrified expressions of each band member turned towards you.

Todd threw the amplifier aside with his powers, profusely apologizing to you. His hair settled back down to normal as he took you in his arms.

"Oh, god, am I an idiot." He said. "I didn't mean to… oh, man, you’re okay, right?"

You were on the verge of tears when you nodded your head. The adrenaline of the moment had taken over your pain as you wrapped your arms around his neck and squeezed him tight.

Envy most definitely cursed him out on your behalf. Lynette was still pissed as she stood off to the side, crossing her arms with a huff. She didn’t really know you, so she didn’t really care that you got hurt.

But Todd knew you, and he cared a whole hell of a lot about you. He was going to be making up to you for a while. You were going to get the apology of a lifetime and probably an entire chocolate cake with strawberries. You loved strawberries.

You did not care about your injury at that moment, though. The scene of Todd apologizing to you, Envy yelling derogatory words at him that were obviously unknown to him, and Lynette's head turning in the other direction was probably one of the best sights you had ever witnessed in your life.

“How’re you feeling?” Todd’s voice snapped you out of your memory. He was in the chair beside you with a hospital pillow on his lap. He had a bag of Doritos in his hand, which he was munching on.

You turned your head over to him and couldn't help but smile. It was a smile full of love and adoration, one that made Todd raise an eyebrow.

"I'm alright," you replied, reaching for the water that was by your bedside. You failed miserably, but Todd noticed it and hovered it over to your hands.

He took the opportunity to grab another chip and take a bite before looking back at you.

"You sure you're okay? I mean, you got hurt 'cause of me.”

"That's what I get for dating a badass, I guess." You laughed, shaking your head.

Todd scoffed, "That's not funny."

"It kinda is."

"Whatever." He crossed his arms and pouted a little bit. "I'll have to watch my back more now. I could have killed you."

“It’s okay. Envy would’ve reunited us if you had. She would’ve torn you a new one. I'd say you dodged a bullet there.”

As Todd munched on his Doritos, nodding along to your words, you knew there was nothing in his brain that connected what you’d just said. He was most definitely agreeing, just to agree.

And just because of that, you couldn't help but admire him. He was sitting there with his messy hair and those brown eyes of his. His clothes were wrinkled, and you could see the tiredness in his eyes, but none of it mattered to you because he was still so beautiful.

Todd being a vegan was also a blessing because it gave him such an amazing physique. He was lean but toned, his abs always visible even under his baggy shirts. Not that you cared if they were showing or not.

"Can I have a chip?” You asked him.

He turned towards you with a look of horror on his face. "You don’t like these. You like the non-vegan Doritos.”

“Aren’t they all… not vegan?”

Todd let out a sigh, his eyes rolling back.

"Not these. Spicy Sweet Chili. I got these from the vending machine. They're for me."

He sounded like a little child, which you couldn't help but laugh at. He always was so serious about these things, even though they were snacks that were meant to be shared with people.

"That's not what I asked." You said.

"Yeah, but-"

You made grabby hands at him. You were starting to feel that pain again as your muscles were getting tired. You needed those chips.

"Todd, please."

He let out a sigh, trying to hold back a smile. He was always such a big softie for you.

He handed over a bag of chips, and you wasted no time in taking one. Immediate regret as you took a bite out of the spicy snack, choking as you did so. You managed to swallow it down before taking in a drink of water to wash it all down.

"Told you that you wouldn't like them." He said with a grin.

"I… like them. I just don't like how I feel after I eat them."

"Mhmm.”

You glared at him, narrowing your eyes. "Stop being smug."

"I can't help it if I'm so cool." He winked.

He wasn't wrong, though. Todd had a very good self-esteem about himself and was never shy to tell you so. But it was the way he said it, that smug look of his and his stupid wink, that made you want to punch him and kiss him.

It was those little things.

"You know," you said as you crossed your arms, "this isn't how I planned on spending my Friday night."

"I know, babe. I know."

"I mean, I thought we were going to have some quality time. The two of us and the TV, I really wanted to catch up on that old Ed and Rose storyline.”

"I know, I know.”

"And instead, I'm here with and because of you." You glared at him as you finished your sentence.

He was ready for your attack, crossing his arms to match yours. You two were in the middle of a staring contest when Todd opened his mouth to say something, but the nurse came in at the worst possible moment to interrupt him.

"Ah, you're awake. How're you feeling?”

Unfortunately, this made Todd win the battle as you were forced to look at the nurse. She had a smile on her face, one that made you feel relaxed. Todd turned to look at her as well.

"I'm feeling better now." You said. "Thank you for asking."

The nurse nodded her head, writing down your words before turning to Todd with a smile. "Since your friend—”

“Girlfriend.” He corrected her, pointing a finger at you.

You couldn't help but laugh, turning your head to the side as you did so. Your laughter got the nurse to smile.

"I apologize. Since your girlfriend is doing better, you’re welcome to visit back in the morning. Visitation hours are from eight to twelve and one to three. After that, only family will be allowed in.”

Todd turned to look at you, and you could see that he wanted to say something, but with a simple nod from you, he leaned back in the chair with his arms crossed, giving the nurse his attention.

She gave him another smile as she looked back at you. "I’ll come back in about an hour for a checkup. Press the button if you need anything in the meantime."

"Thank you." You replied.

She left the room smiling, leaving the two of you to look at each other.

You let out a sigh as you leaned your head back on the bed, closing your eyes. Todd's eyes never left you, staring at you as you did so.

“Should've said we were married. I would've been able to stay the night here." He said.

"Yeah, but then I wouldn't be able to sleep because of your snoring. You know, that's why I get up so early in the mornings. I have no choice but to leave the bed when you're snoozing away."

Todd had the audacity to smile at that, shaking his head.

"Whatever, I don't snore. Besides, you love the way my arms feel around you."

You opened one eye, staring at him. "Are you trying to make me feel bad?"

"No. I'm just stating the facts. I have great arms if you hadn't noticed."

You scoffed at him and his bragging. You closed your eyes again.

"I hate you so much."

"I know." He said with a smirk on his face. “Can I have my chips back now? You ate almost all of them."

You handed the bag back to him without another word, sighing deeply. You could feel Todd's stare at you as he opened up the bag again.

You heard him take another chip into his mouth as he stared at you, but he was too quiet, so you knew he had something else to say.

"What?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

"You know that I meant it when I said sorry, right?"

"Of course I know, Todd. You always apologize."

He swallowed down his chips. "Yeah, but this time I really meant it. I was so scared when you got hurt. I didn’t mean to; I just got pissed at Lynette, and that all happened."

"Todd, it's okay. I know you didn't mean it. You would never hurt me."

"You're sure?" He asked.

You opened up your eyes again, looking at him. He was staring down at his lap as he said those words, biting his lip. You could tell that he was genuinely worried about this, so you reached over and made grabby hands again, but instead of the chips, you were looking for him.

Todd looked up at you and raised an eyebrow. He placed the bag of chips aside and got out of his chair, going over to the side of the bed to look at you. You placed both of your hands on either side of his neck, smiling at him.

"I'm positive. I know how much I mean to you, Todd. You don't need to worry. I'm not mad at you."

He was looking right into your eyes as you said that and nodded his head, moving closer toward you as he placed his hands on the side of the bed. You didn't want him to be too far away from you, so you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"I'm just glad you're okay. I didn't mean for this to happen. I swear."

"I know." You replied. "It's not your fault."

You stared at each other for a few more moments before he leaned down and kissed you. He placed both of his hands on either side of the bed as he deepened the kiss. He didn't do this often, but when he did, he knew exactly what he was doing.

He was also extremely careful now that you had broken your leg, making sure that he wasn't putting any pressure on your side. He placed one hand on your face to hold you in place as he kissed you while his other hand supported his body.

It felt like a few minutes had passed before he broke the kiss. He leaned down and rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

"I love you." He whispered.

"I love you too."

It wasn't the first time he said it, and it definitely wasn't the first time you had said it to him, but it was the first time you heard those words without any fear in his voice. There was no worry, no hesitation, only love.

He opened his eyes, looking at you with a smile on his face. His brown eyes always captivated you, especially when he smiled.

You felt your own smile spread as you looked into those beautiful eyes of his, kissing him on the cheek before snuggling up to him.

You felt his hands wrap around your body and sighed contently. Eventually, he’d have to leave, but until then, you were going to enjoy this.

And if it came with spicy chips, then even better.

[bellaireland1981]

Special Delivery for the Birthday Boy

Summary: You enlist Phoenix’s help to surprise your husband on his birthday. You’d been living on opposite coasts since he’d been called back to Top Gun and you were ready to reunite with him just in time to celebrate his birthday. An added bonus is you also get to surprise the rest of the Daggers who have no clue that Bradley is married. 

Word Count: 3.9K

Pairings: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Female! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of birthday sex but no actual smut, mentions of pregnancy.

A/N: I do not own TGM characters, I DO NOT give permission to anyone to repost, copy or translate my work to any other platform or website. Don’t steal my work... it’s not cool. AS always thank you to @waywardodysseys and @beyondthesefourwalls for letting me bounce ideas off them and encouraging me!! Reblogs and comments always appreciated! 

Masterlist

Side note: Meant to get this posted yesterday but wanted to redo a few things on it...still not 100% sure I love how it turned out but...here you go! 

YOU: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY! I LOVE YOU! I’ll be in interviews all day but I’ll FaceTime you tonight. Fly Safe! 💋

HUBBY: Thank you, Dove. I miss you so much 🙁 Wish you were here. Love you 💗

“Are you sure he doesn’t know I’m coming?” You asked, putting your suitcase into the back and climbing into the passenger seat. “Thanks again for coming to get me!”

“Y/N, I promise, he’s absolutely clueless.” Phoenix assured you, smiling. “He’s been moping around all day because he can’t get a hold of you. And you’re welcome! I can’t wait to see his face!”

“I can’t wait to see his face either… I miss that face.” You said, leaning back in the seat. “I’ll be so happy when we’re living on the same damn coast again.”

“When will that be?” She asked, merging into the traffic leaving the San Diego International Airport. “Rooster mentioned you had some loose ends to tie up out East.”

“That’s part of his birthday present.” You said beaming, “I actually just accepted a teaching position for the fall. I had an interview over Zoom yesterday. Bradley thinks I’m in interviews all day today.”

“Y/N that’s awesome!” Phoenix exclaimed, “He’ll be so damn excited.”

“I’m excited.” You laughed, “I’ve had enough of being across the country from my husband. Especially after the last mission. How are things really going with him and Maverick?”

“Honestly?” She said, “Much better than when we got back to Top Gun. They’ve talked and are actively trying. It’s been really good for Rooster.”

“Good.” You replied, “I’ve been trying to get him to reach out for a few years. He just wasn’t ready. I’m glad he got this chance. It’ll be interesting to meet the man.”

“He’s a good guy.” She said, “Bob and I are the only ones that know about you, by the way.”

“I figured.” You laughed. “I’m kind of looking forward to that bombshell being dropped too. From everything I’ve heard about everyone, the reactions should be priceless. I’m especially looking forward to Hangman’s reaction.”

“Oh, this will be absolutely priceless.” Phoenix laughed, “For as much shit as he gives Rooster for never hitting on women at the Hard Deck and not having any game… he’s going to have to eat his words. He’ll most likely hit on you though if he meets you before knowing you’re married to Rooster.”

“Are things better between them though?” You asked, “I know Hangman wasn’t Bradley’s favorite person… and they’ve butted heads in the past. When it counted though, that man came through for my husband and it’s a debt I’ll never be able to repay.”

“They’ve formed a tentative friendship.” She said, “It’s new… but there is a strong mutual respect between them. They’ve flown better together in training since the mission…have become a pretty damn good team actually.”

“It makes me feel better knowing he’s got the best pilots in the Navy flying with him.” You said, “I always felt safer when I knew he was deployed with you.”

“Just because you know I’ll keep his ass out of trouble.” She laughed. “I get it though. You have to trust your wingman. This last mission showed us that we can really all trust one another to come through for each other.”

She pulled into the driveway of her apartment complex parking her car and the two of you got out. You grabbed your suitcase from the back and followed her up to her apartment.

“Ok I just need like a half hour to shower and get ready!” You said, “Then I’ll be ready to go!”

“Take your time.” She laughed, “I’ll grab a towel for you. While you shower, I’ll text the group. Jake is actually in charge of getting Bradley to the Hard Deck for birthday drinks.”

You opened your suitcase, pulling out a sundress you’d left on top for easy access. It was one of Bradley’s favorites on you so you made sure to pack it. You grabbed the strapless bra and matching lace panties you’d bought to wear with the dress and headed to the shower. You tied your hair up so it wouldn’t get wet and quickly jumped into the shower.

True to your word, thirty minutes later you were dressed and ready to go. You’d left your hair down, opted for light makeup and only wore a necklace Bradley had given you for your anniversary (a Dove pendant on a dainty silver chain). You slipped your feet into wedge sandals and grabbed your purse and the small gift bag with Bradley’s other birthday present in it and headed out to the living room where Phoenix was waiting.

“Ready!” You said, excited to finally be headed out to see your husband.

“Jake said he’s having a hard time getting Rooster to go to the bar. He asked him after work and he said he was just going to go home.” Phoenix said. “I can drop you off at the Hard Deck then go to the house and drag his ass out. He’ll listen to me.”

“Hold on.” You said, “He’s probably waiting for me to FaceTime him and doesn't want to miss that call… SHIT! He’ll recognize your apartment…. Ok…. no problem.. I’ve got this.”

You brought your husband’s name up on your phone, hitting the call button.

“Baby you said FaceTime.” Bradley complained, answering the phone on the second ring. “Where’s your beautiful face?”

“I know, Sweetie,” You replied, sighing, “I promise I’ll FaceTime you later tonight. I messed up the time difference and I got a call from another school to interview with. I just really want to find a job out there so I can get to you. How about you go get a birthday drink with Nix and then by the time you get home I’ll be free and we can FaceTime.”

“It’s OK, Dove.” He said, “Good luck in the interview, Baby. They’ll all want you and you’ll have your pick of jobs. I just miss you so damn much. I want to be able to come home to you at night. I love you.”

“I love you too, Bradley.” You said, your heart breaking at how sad he sounded, even knowing you were about to make him so happy. “I’ll be home there with you before you even know it and you’ll be coming home to me every single night. Promise you’ll go get a drink with your friends? Celebrate your birthday?”

“I promise.” He said, “I’ll talk to you later, Baby. Good Luck.”

“Thank you, Sweetie.” You replied, “I love you so so much.”

“Love you too.” He replied.

After hanging up you had Phoenix text the group chat again to let everyone know that drinks were happening at the Hard Deck in thirty minutes for Bradshaw’s birthday. Then she texted Bradley and let him know she wasn’t taking ‘No’ for an answer.

PHOENIX: Bradshaw, your ass better be at the Hard Deck in 30 minutes or I’ll be at your house to drag your ass out myself. 😡

ROOSTER: My  wife already texted you? Lol 😂  I’m changing out of my flight suit now. Be there in 30.

“Alright, he’s changing now!” Phoenix said, smiling, “Let’s get you to your husband!”

You pulled your suitcase back down to her car, throwing it into the back again to be transferred to your husband’s Bronco once you were at the Hard Deck. Knowing you were going to be seeing him in 30 minutes caused excitement to flood your system. You’d been married for three years, together for five and gone through much longer deployments and separations that the one you’d just been through, but never before had he flown such a dangerous mission where it had been pretty much assumed someone wasn’t coming home.

“Not long now!” Phoenix said, smiling over at you, knowing where your head was going. “An added bonus to this new assignment is the deployments won’t be as often or as long. We will actually be getting to do more instructing of the new classes of Top Gun students in between missions. You won’t have to worry about long separations anymore.”

“I’ve done ok as long as I didn’t let myself think about it too much.” You said, “The minute I let myself think about how close he came to not coming home… I lose it.”

“You’ll feel much better once you see him and have him back in your arms.” She promised, “I know he’ll feel better once he’s got you in his arms too.”

“You’re right.” You said. “Just need him in my arms.”

She pulled into the parking lot of the bar a short time later and you made your way inside.  

“Looks like everyone except Rooster is here.” Phoenix said, spotting everyone in their regular corner of the bar when they walked in. “Let’s go grab drinks from the bar and kill time until he gets here. I want him to be the one to introduce you.”

You followed her to the bar, sitting in one of the free seats.

“Hey, Phoenix.” Penny said, coming over, “What can I get for you two?”

“Hey, Penny.” She replied, “I’ll take a beer, Y/N?”

“Just a Ginger Ale or Sprite if you have it?” You asked, smiling. “I’m going to be DD tonight for my husband.”

“One of these aviators belong to you?” Penny asked, grabbing the beer for Phoenix and filling a glass with ice and pouring the amber soda for you.

“He’s not here yet.” You replied, smiling. “But yeah, I have to take claim for an aviator.”

“Penny, do you know if Mav is coming tonight?” Phoenix asked, winking at you. “Figured he might pop in for Rooster’s birthday.”

“I think he said he’s stopping in.” She replied, “I’m so glad those two are finally talking!”

“You and me both!” Phoenix replied, taking a drink of her beer.

“Phoenix, why are you sitting over here keeping your beautiful friend here from joining us?” A smooth voice sounded behind you both. You turned and smirked, knowing exactly who was standing behind you.

“Bagman, you’re not allowed to harass my friend.” Phoenix said, rolling her eyes. “She is definitely not your type.”

“I’m Hangman.” He said, flashing a megawatt smile, complete with dimples. You were sure that smile landed him plenty of ladies. You had to bite back a laugh when you glanced over at  Phoenix who was rolling her eyes. “Or Jake, whichever you prefer.”

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Hangman.” You replied, glancing behind him as the door opened and a very familiar mustached aviator walked in wearing one of his million Hawaiian shirts. Thankfully he hadn’t seen you yet so you still had the element of surprise.  “Phoenix is right though, you’re not my type. I only give my heart to 6 '1”, brown eyed,curly haired, aviators with mustaches and a penchant for Hawaiian shirts.”

“Oddly specific…” He said, confused, but turning to see where your eyes had landed. You hopped off the seat and moved past him, straight into Bradley’s line of sight.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw!” You called, catching his attention. His head shot up, his eyes locking in on you immediately, a shocked smile stretching across his face.  “Surprise, Baby! Happy Birthday!”

“Dove!” He exclaimed, finally snapping out of his shock. He closed the distance between you two quickly, meeting him in the middle, and scooped you up into his arms. Your legs wrapped around him so he was holding you koala style, your lips locking against his own in a passionate kiss, neither of you caring that you were standing in the middle of a crowded bar. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so damn much, Y/N. I can’t believe you’re really here!”

“Forgive me for not FaceTiming now?” You asked, laughing “I was at Phoenix’s apartment when I called.”

“You’re a little minx.” He laughed. “I forgive you baby.”

“Bradshaw!” Jake said, “Care you’ve got some explaining to do.”

“Give me a minute, Hangman.” Bradley replied, setting you down, but not letting you go. “I haven’t seen my wife in a couple of months. Let me say ‘hello’.”

“WIFE?” Jake exclaimed, “Phoenix, you know about this?”

“Yup.” She smirked, leading Jake away from you and Bradley. “Give them a minute. They’ll join us shortly.”

You were still wrapped in Bradley’s arms and you finally felt like you were home.

“I can’t believe you’re really here, Dove.” He said, resting his forehead against your own. “You look so beautiful, Baby.”

“I’m really here, my love.” You promised, kissing him softly. “It’s so good to see your face and kiss you and to be in your arms. I love you so much. From now on, I will go where you go whenever humanly possible.”

“I love you too, Beautiful.” He replied, “I’m hoping this will be our permanent home base. How close are we to being a one coast family?”

“Actually, how likely is it that you can get leave to help me pack up our Virginia house?” You asked.

“Pretty likely.” He smiled, “Do you have a timeline?”

“Whenever you’re ready.” You said, “I accepted a job out here for the fall, officially resigned at the district in Virginia Beach and cleared out my classroom two days ago.”

“FUCK YES!” He exclaimed, picking you up and swinging you around, “I’ll put in for leave tomorrow. As soon as it’s granted we’ll book a flight back and pack it all up and list the house.”

“Bradshaws!” Jake yelled, “Join the party!”

“We’re being paged.” You laughed, “Come on, Baby. Introduce me to your friends.”

You and Bradley walked over to the corner where everyone had congregated and introductions were made.

“Everyone, this is my wife Y/N.” Bradley said, happy to finally get to introduce you to everyone, “Baby, this is the squad. You’ve met Hangman. That’s Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, and you already know Bob.”

“Hey Y/N” Bob said, coming over to hug you, “It’s good to see you again!”

“Hi, Bob!” You replied smiling, hugging him back, “It’s so good to see you too!” Then looking at the rest of the group you smiled and  said, “It’s so nice to finally meet you all. Bradley’s told me all about you guys.”

“Wait a damn minute!” Jake said, turning to glare and Bradley, “Phoenix and Bob BOTH knew you had a wife? What the HELL, Rooster? I saved your life and I don’t get to be in the cool kids club knowing you have a WIFE? I thought we were friends, man.”

“Jake…”Bradley said, unsure what to say, “Come on man, it’s not like that…we are friends…”

You look over at Jake who’s doing all that he can to not smile, enjoying the fact that Bradley has no idea what to say.

“Baby, he’s playing you.” You told your husband, winking at Jake. “Jake, stop bullying my husband. It’s his birthday. Play nicely and you come over for home cooked meals.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He replied, smiling, “Sorry, Rooster. Couldn’t resist. Congrats on the beautiful wife. She’s a firecracker. Definitely keep her.”

“I plan on it, Hangman.” Bradley said, shaking his head at the blonde aviator.

The night continues with the group playing pool, swapping stories, drinking and you filling them in on how you and Bradley met and ended up married. Eventually, Phoenix made her way to the Jukebox and pulled the plug, silencing the music, causing your husband to chuckle. There was a mixed reaction from the bar to the music being cut. Some booed, upset that whatever had been playing was cut off mid song, the rest cheered, clearly knowing something was about to happen.

“That’s my cue, Baby.” Bradley said, tapping your leg to signal he needed up. You stood up to let him get off the chair, but before you could sit back down, he grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him to an upright piano.

“They clearly know your party trick.” You teased, “Come on birthday boy, serenade your fans.” Bradley sat down on the bench, pulling you down next to him. His fingers moved over the keys, playing a random melody before launching into the familiar intro chords to Great Balls of Fire. You knew he could play a million other songs, but this one in particular held the most meaning to him as it was the one his dad had played and sang when he was little before he died.

You could tell Bradley had done this before here because everyone crowded around and were singing along with him while he played. You joined in, belting out the song alongside your husband. KISS ME BABY.. (you leaned in to kiss him quickly)    OOOOO THAT FEELS GOOD,   HOLD ME BABY….. WELL,  I’LL STILL HOLD YOU LIKE A LOVER SHOULD….. YOU’RE FINE…. SO KIND… I GOT TO TELL THIS WORLD THAT YOU’RE MINE MINE MINE MINE!  

When the song finished the bar erupted into loud cheers and chants yelling “ROOSTER”. You loved seeing your husband in his element like this. You quickly took advantage of being in front of the piano and scooted your husbands fingers off the keys, replacing them with your own and started to play Happy Birthday. You were happy when everyone around you immediately joined in and soon the entire bar was signing to your husband.

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy BIRTHDAY dear ROOSTER, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!”

“Make a wish, Baby”! You said, turning towards him.

“All my wishes have come true.” He replied, leaning in to kiss you.

“Hey Rooster,” Phoenix said, gently, not wanting to interrupt the moment.  “Mav’s at the bar.”

“Ready to meet my Godfather?” He asked you.

“Definitely ready.” You replied. “Then I’ve got the rest of your birthday present.”

“Baby!” He exclaimed, “You’re here, you’re MOVING here, YOU are my present.”

“Ok, well, there’s more.” You shrugged laughing. “Introduce me to Mav.”

Bradley took your hand and led you to the bar where Mav was sitting sipping a beer. He looked up as you both approached and smiled, standing up.

“Happy Birthday, Kid.” Mav said, hugging Bradley tightly.

“Thanks, Mav.” He replied, hugging him back. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

You stepped closer, smiling softly. You were nervous to meet the man that meant so much to Bradley and who had been like a father to him growing up before everything had exploded. You wanted to help your husband to build that relationship back up, knowing how important it was to have family. Your own parents adored Bradley and had immediately welcomed him into the family when you’d brought him home the first time.

“This is my wife, Y/N.” He said, his arm around your waist, “Baby, this Mav. He helped my mom raise me after my dad died.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” Mav said, his voice thick with emotion.

“It’s great to finally meet you too.” You replied, smiling, stepping forward to pull him into a hug. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“For the record, Y/N’s been trying to get me to reach out for a couple of years now.” Bradley admitted. “I’m just bullheaded.”

“At least he admits it.” You laughed. “We’d love to have you over for dinner though, Mav. I’d really love to get to know you.”

“I would love that, Y/N.” He replied, “I’d love to get to know the one making my Godson so happy.”

“He’s easy to love.” You said, looking over your shoulder at your husband. “He makes me pretty damn happy too.”

“I think I’m going to steal my wife now and take her home.” Bradley said, “She just flew in today and is still on East Coast time.”

“Sounds good.” Mav said, “Enjoy the rest of your birthday, Kid. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” He replied, smiling, “See you tomorrow.”

After saying goodbye to the rest of the squad, you were finally able to escape out to the Bronco. Phoenix had already transferred your suitcase while you were inside.

“Do you need me to drive?” You asked, you hadn’t kept track of your husband’s drinks tonight.

“Nope. I’m good.” He said, smiling, opening the passenger door for you,“Only had 2 beers earlier, nothing since. Hop in, Dove.”

You leaned back in the seat, enjoying the air coming in from the open windows as Bradley drove you both home. He had found an apartment not far from base that did short term leases when he’d come back to San Diego for the mission. Now that you knew it would be permanent the two of you could start to look for a house together. You made a mental note to start looking at listings tomorrow while he was at work.

The apartment wasn’t too far from The Hard Deck either, so before long, Bradley was pulling the Bronco into the parking space and shutting it off. He came around to open your door for you before pulling your suitcase from the back of the Bronco.

“Ready to see our temporary home in person?” He asked

“More than ready.” You said, “Especially the bed… I really wanna see the bed.”

“I can’t wait to get you into bed either, Baby.” He smirked, “Birthday sex is the best.”

“Lead the way, Stud.” You winked, “I still have another birthday surprise for you.”

“Is it under your dress?” He asked, taking your hand and leading you to the front door, unlocking it and ushering you inside.

“It is…” You replied, “But I need something from my suitcase first.” You unzipped the suitcase and pulled out the small gift bag inside before handing it to Bradley. “Happy Birthday, Baby.”

He smiled, reaching to take the bag, leaning down to kiss you as he did, “Thank you, Dove.”

He opened the bag, taking out the tissue paper, and pulling out two onesies. Holding them up, you could see the moment it registered in his head what he was looking at. His eyes filled with tears as he read each one.

“Future Aviator, just like my Daddy,” He read, before holding up the other one to read, “Daddy’s Wingman”

He looked up at you, “Baby, you’re….we’re…really?” He was too choked up to get the words out. You smiled, tears of your own spilling over and running down your cheeks.

“Yes” You whispered, unable to get your own voice to work. He carefully set the onesies in the bag and pulled you into his arms, your own going around his neck. His lips connected with yours in a deep kiss, desperate to convey all of his love and feelings to you in that moment.

“We’re having a baby.” He whispered, when you’d both pulled back to breathe. “How far along?”

“I just hit 11 weeks.” You said, then reached for your purse to pull out the sonogram photo you had safely tucked inside, “And actually… let’s go sit on the couch and I’ll show you the sonogram…”

He took your hand leading you to the couch, sitting down with you tucked into his side. You handed him the envelope with the copies of the sonogram from the doctor. He carefully opened it up, pulling them out to look.

“Dove…” He said, shock once again covering his face  “Are you serious right now?”

“Surprise!” You chuckled, “Turns out you're top 1% in more than just flying, Baby.”

“We’re having twins.” He smiled, looking at the sonogram, “I’m gonna be a daddy.”

“You’re gonna be the best daddy.” You confirmed, “Happy Birthday, Bradley.”

“This has been the best birthday ever, Dove.” He replied, leaning over to kiss you. “Thank you for making all of my wishes come true.”

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[waitingonher]

Hi can you do some Percy Jackson x Hades Child hc?

percy jackson dating a child of hades

pairing: percy jackson x child of hades!reader

content warning: cursing

word count: 780

author's note: sorry this one's a bit shorttt

a son of poseidon and a child of hades? ANOTHER POWER COUPLE. 

everyone knows not to mess with either one of you, or else they’re in for a doozy. 

percy’s always making sure that you’re not overworking yourself. he saw what it did to nico, so he for sure does not want that happening to you too. 

he’ll usually ask in more subtle and casual ways like “training was rough yesterday, how’d you sleep?” or “the lunch selection was good today, what’d you think?” 

it may be overbearing to some, but percy honestly can’t help it. the very last thing he wants is you being too hard on yourself. 

when you two first started dating, you guys—for some reason—decided to make gardening your little thing together?? but when you had accidentally killed them with your aura, you and percy decided to go forward with something a little less…alive. 

LOL so now your guys’ little thing is baking!! 

somehow chiron allowed you and him to use the camp kitchen?? 

anyways, you guys are pretty much pro bakers now! well, if you ignore the time when percy mistook the salt for sugar, then you guys are basically pros. 

you reach your hand out to your boyfriend, “perce, pass me a cookie.” “here,” he passes you a cookie while grabbing himself one, “on the count of three?”  you nod and begin counting, “one, two, three.” taking a bite of the warm cookie, you both immediately realize something’s wrong. the cookie tastes…salty? you see percy’s eyes widen as you two make a dash towards the sink.  “oh my gods! why is it salty?” percy screeches, the chewed up cookie muffling his voice.  after what felt like years of rinsing your mouth, the unpleasant salty taste had left your mouth, “babe, you were in charge of the dry ingredients...so did you use the salt instead of the sugar?”  percy’s eyes widen to the size of saucers, “no…i’m not that stupid. look,” he grabs the plastic container and turns it around, only to reveal the label that reads ‘salt’, "oh…yeah, that’s my bad.” 

considering the reputation your dad has, percy’s always looking out for you. but don’t get me wrong, everyone at camp could not give less of a shit about your dad, but it’s the newcomers he worries about. 

some of the new kids are so bold??? but don’t worry, cuz you and percy ALWAYS find ways to humble them. 

percy’s the type of bf to have almost anything you may need on hand. you need a hair tie? he’s pulling one off his wrist. your lips are chapped? he’s taking out his aquaphor. 

he loves seeing you use your powers, because like…pretty gf who has cool powers over the dead?? what is there not to love??

sometimes when you two are training, you’ll look out the corner of your eye to see your boyfriend just staring at you? percy has ZERO shame and will stare at you whenever he feels like it. 

whenever you guys have sleepovers, he always makes sure you fall asleep before him. it’s more of a comfort thing for him. percy just sleeps better knowing that you’re already sleeping. 

normally he’s a pretty light sleeper, but around you, he’s an even lighter sleeper. he just wants to make sure that he’ll be awake to comfort you in case you have any particularly alarming dreams. 

when you two eat, he never fails to save and offer the last bite to you. but percy doesn’t want you to feel bad about you eating his last bite, so he just nonchalantly offers it to you. 

movie nights with percy!!! 

you’d make him watch all the classic horror movies. shit talking the ones with bad acting and graphics is your guys’ favorite pastime. 

“oh my gods,” percy groans for the umpteenth time, “i swear, it’s probably a mortal who made this movie. they can’t even get the stupid ghosts to look right.”  you laugh at percy’s passion for complaining, “literally! okay but can they get some other guy to play the main character?” 

at this point, you two should make your own horror movie because you’re too busy making fun of them instead of actually enjoying them. 

you also made percy watch tusk… 

ever since watching it, he can’t look at walruses the same. (me too percy)  

gods forbid he runs into one in the ocean. 

percy also has a cork board in his cabin with a shit ton of polaroids on it jdfsksd 

they range from pictures with you to pictures of the sunsets.

but if you pay attention, you’ll find that the majority of the photos include you in them <33

[homestuckreplay]

🏡 Nine Best Homestuck Moments of 2009 🏡

It’s the end of 2009, and Homestuck is currently sitting at 1088 pages – pretty huge for something that hasn’t even been going for a full year. So as we close out the year and enter what’s sure to be the Homestuck Decade, I thought I’d count down my favorite Homestuck moments of 2009. I’ve loved it all, so it was really hard to narrow down, but when I reflect on this first year of the comic’s existence, this is what sticks in my mind.

9. Rambunctious Crow. (p.350-356)

This is my favorite Dave moment because it’s his irony in action, turned against him by the narrative now that things are getting real. Already knowing that Dave’s losing the betas is a ‘stupid’ and ‘embarrassing’ story (p.294), it still comes as a surprise just how stupid, embarrassing and out of nowhere the reality is. I’m on the crow’s side – it saw something cool and colorful in a grabbable position, and it went for it. It had no idea it was going to get accidentally sylladex-murdered, and I can’t wait to see its new life in Dave’s kernelsprite.

8. Peregrine Mendicant Delivers Justice. (p.844; 892-897; 921-925)

This one is cheating because it’s really ‘everything about PM’. I will give my heart to a paladin character with a big sword and strong ideals, any day – she will kill without a moment’s hesitation if it helps her fulfil her oath to the mail, but she’ll also reward a loyal follower who helps her cause, and this applies to robotic worms as much as it does to other people. She’s a minor character who’s out here behaving like a protagonist and one of her packages could be the thing that saves all the kids.

7. John’s Clever Disguise. (p.45-89)

I wish he was still wearing it. I really do. John acknowledges on page 46 that it’s a really shitty disguise and continues to wear it for several dozen pages. He adds the pipe, switches out the hat, considers a second pipe, and overall tries to perfect it. And he does it all the time too, because Rose calls him out on it! Whether he likes it or not, the spirit of the clown is within John, and I love this section as both a funny surface level gag and when thinking about the deeper meanings of a kid disguising himself in his own home.

6. Rose-Jade Flashback. (p.441-442)

This is my favorite Pesterlog in the comic so far, and sets up a really cool dynamic between Rose and Jade. They’re both talking circles around each other, Rose because she has to sound smart, detached, and in control, and Jade because she has to sound sunny, cryptic, and also in control. But Rose clearly has a lot of respect for Jade, and Jade clearly has a deep understanding of Rose, and those things are surprising – I expected Rose to be more skeptical of Jade’s powers, but instead they’re like light and dark counterparts with similar values of understanding the world around them.

5. Zazzerpan the Learned. (p.358-359)

This might be the one thing that holds Rose back from being my favorite character. How can she possibly ‘find this grisly abomination utterly detestable’. It’s a 20 foot tall statue of a mighty wizard and if you don’t think that’s the sickest shit in the entire world then WHAT is even the point. And the glimpses on page 715 and 757 showing the broken, future Zazzerpan indicate that something is going to happen to him; probably Rose with a giant bludgeoning weapon. Unless I cause a time paradox by appearifying him and putting him in MY house. (He would not fit).

4. Act 1&2 Title Cards. (p.82; 307)

The jokes are excellent, but to me Homestuck is at its best when it lets itself be serious, and page 82 is our first real glimpse of this. These pages let us sit with John and Rose’s mental states for a moment, and they let Hussie stretch their writing skills and play with words. My hope is that these pages will age really well and have a lot of foreshadowing in hindsight, but even if not, they create atmosphere better than any other moments in the comic so far, and they read like prose poetry.

His riddle is Absence itself. It is a mystery dispersing altogether, like the moon's faint reflection, with even one pebble of inquiry dropped in its black well.

Somewhere a zealous god threads these strings between the clouds and the earth, preparing for a symphony it fears impossible to play. And so it threads on, and on, delaying the raise of the conductor's baton.

3. FreshJamz and the Beta Kid Band. (p.77; 222; 337; 822; 830)

All four kids being musically gifted in a comic that incorporates sound is a great move, and the reveal that John can play piano beautifully after he’s spent 76 pages messing up his sylladex and house as he struggles to pick things up was a huge surprise at first. The four kids sharing an interest in video games would have been too obvious, but all of them loving music pokes at the fourth wall and gives them a way to connect on a deeper emotional level even while they are all hiding parts of themselves. It’s a big act of trust to share creative work with people, and seeing all the collaborations on Jade’s FreshJamz page is the best evidence of how close they all are.

2. Rose Adopts Vodka Mutini. (p.926; 1002)

Alright, I love cats. And I know that introducing a cute animal character is a cheap move for getting an audience to fall in love, but cmon, THIS kitten has FOUR EYES that BLINK SEQUENTIALLY and was made in a SLIME CHAMBER as a failed PARADOX CLONE. They CURL UP AND SNOOZE on Rose��s desk and become a TINY VOID CREATURE. I can’t be cynical about this. I am not immune to a tiny sweet face blinking up at me from an anachronistic teapot. I am screaming and crying with how badly I want this cat to curl up with me.

1. [S] WV: Ascend and [S] Jade: Pester John. (p.757; 1073)

I know I’m not alone in loving ‘WV: Ascend’; I’ve read several forum threads where people wax as rhapsodically about it as I do, and I was sad not to see as much love for ‘Jade: Pester John’ (maybe because it does similar work, so isn’t as unexpected). Both these pages are an expansion of what webcomics can do, they perfectly tie up existing plotlines, they’re really well scripted to the music, and it’s both rewarding and enjoyable to watch them several times in a row. ‘Explore’ is one of my favorite Homestuck tracks so far, and Skaia/Prospit during the eclipse is my favorite location visually. I know there’s a lot of skill and technique that goes into creating animations like this and making them feel emotional and satisfying to watch, but sometimes I don’t want to analyze them, I just want to sit and watch and let the Flash Magic roll over me.

Honorable Mentions. A few that were on the shortlist but didn’t quite make the cut because I made myself keep it to nine: the very first page (p.1), Rose putting the bunny back in the box (p.146-147), [S] John: Take bite of apple (p.246), Rose exploring her grimoire (p.301-305), John figuring out alchemy and successfully creating the pogo hammer (p.630-635), Rose attempting to send John the Sburb server CD (p.645-647), WV becoming the Mayor of Can Town (p.685), WV drawing the Skaian cosmology on the bunker walls (p.702-704), and the Midnight Crew’s Homestuck intermission (p.831-832). Yeah, I notice the blatant favoritism towards Rose and John in this post.

If anyone has a favorite moment so far that I’ve missed, send them in!!