#her sassy little face in the bottom two

[prentissluvr]

i love her PLEASEEEE UGH

[cobrakaisb]

come one, come all

summary: percy jackson has finally arrived at camp half-blood, so why is he so shocked to see that people have genuine relationships here? aka, the four times percy thought you were dating luke, and the one time he actually asked. 

word count: 3.2k

featuring: percy pov!!, 4+1, vaping (again), sassy man apocalypse in the form of luke castellan, reader straight up not giving a fuck, percabeth crumbs (but you gotta squint)

author's note: i am so sorry for the delay with this one!! i was studying for finals, but now that i'm home from college for the summer, hopefully the updates will be more frequent 🤞

series masterlist ||| previous ||| next

hermes cabin, day one, early afternoon

“this is the hermes cabin, home to both his children and the unclaimed,” chiron explains, walking up to the very loud and very rambunctious building. 

percy peers inside, and he’s immediately filled with dread. there’s barely enough room in the cabin for the people that actually live there, let alone him. why couldn’t his father claim him already? if anything, percy thought losing his mother would have been enough; clearly it wasn’t. his dread only intensifies, however, when chiron starts clapping his hands, calling the attention of all the campers. 

“woah wait a minute,” percy mumbles, but it’s too late. 

“this is percy jackson, i trust you will see to whatever he needs,” chiron announces. 

it takes the campers approximately two seconds to go back to whatever they were doing beforehand. some campers’ eyes linger a little bit longer on him, but for the most part, they’re all indifferent to his presence. finding a spot proves to be difficult, as every nook and cranny is inhabited.

“you can sleep over there,” a girl says, annoyed.

“thanks,” percy mumbles, but it falls on deaf ears. 

the spot isn’t half bad, but it isn’t great either. he’s stuck in between two sets of bunk beds, on a sleeping bag. a sleeping bag. one would think the gods could splurge a little for an air mattress, but percy guesses they must be selfish, at least based on the signs of this cabin: overrun, overfilled, and underdeveloped. he’s unpacking his backpack, the last remnants of his life before his mom explained his paternal lineage, when the whispers start. 

“that’s the kid. i think he’s the one that killed the minotaur,” someone whispers, or at least they try to, but percy hears the whole thing. 

he turns around, and comes face to face with a group of older campers, all boys. they’ve clearly been here a while (in the hermes cabin, or at camp, percy isn’t sure) based solely on the fact that they’re so comfortable in this environment. a tall, curly black-haired boy steps forward, so percy stands up. he tries to size up the older boy, but if it comes to a fight, he doesn’t think he’ll win. 

“look, if you guys want to start something, can you just…do it tomorrow?” he asks. 

the older boy doesn’t say anything. instead, he just takes a moment to look at percy, up and down. percy’s breath catches in his throat when he catches sight of the long scar running from the corner of his right eye to his jaw. he’s intimidating, to say the least. 

“i’m..” the boy starts to say, but he’s cut off by the sound of loud laughter. 

percy turns to face the door, following the older boy’s lead, and sees two girls walk into the cabin. they’re both in workout gear, clearly just coming from a training session, but only one of them moves to drop her stuff on a bed — a bottom bunk in the left hand corner — and the other walks right up to the guy in front of him.

percy wants to warn her, tell her that she shouldn’t mess with this kid. but the grumpy guy smiles at her, completely forgetting about percy.

“busy day?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“something like that,” the boy mumbles, throwing a sideways glance in percy’s direction. 

“oh i see,” she answers slowly, and now both of their eyes are on him. 

“luke treating you okay?” she asks. 

percy gulps, unsure how to answer her. girls don’t really talk to him, but there’s a first time for everything, he understands that especially well now.  

“he literally just got here,” luke says, shoving your shoulder. 

you smile at the older boy, and there’s something more behind that stare, but percy can’t really figure out what. 

“if he steps out of line, you let me know,” she instructs, jabbing her thumb in luke’s direction. 

percy nods, “yeah sure.” 

she smiles at him, before walking towards the exit of the cabin. as she’s at the threshold between the inside and the outdoors, she turns around with a mischievous look in her eyes. 

“meet me later?” she asks. 

“i’ll be there,” luke answers. 

she nods, satisfied, and leaves. percy watches luke, who continues to watch her. his eyebrows furrow. maybe he just doesn’t understand teenagers?

hermes cabin, day two, morning

percy’s startled awake. the deep, guttural voice from his dream still haunting him. the darkness from the nightmare is looming over him like a dark cloud. his gasps and heavy breathing draw the attention of luke and his friends, the former leaving his bottom bunk to walk over to percy’s sleeping bag.  

“you okay?” luke asks. 

percy wonders if he’s genuinely concerned. “super,” he replies. 

“we all get them, y’know. deep, intense nightmares. comes with being a demigod,” luke explains, watching percy struggle to get up from his bed.

“so does adhd and dyslexia. they’re your battle instincts talking. everything that’s made you different, an outcast, is normal here,” luke continues to explain, now standing toe to toe with percy. 

there’s silence between the two. percy wants to ask him about his godly parent. it’s been weighing on him since he spoke with luke briefly yesterday. for some reason, however, he feels like the question is out of line, too personal for someone he just met. 

yet, he can’t help himself: “so are you also…do you not know…are you…”

“am i unclaimed? no, hermes is my father, but that doesn’t matter. we’re all family here,” luke replies, giving percy’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 

“and the girl from last night…is she…?” percy asks. 

luke chuckles at his uncertainty, clearly finding humor in his embarrassing situation. “no. she knows who her mother is. you should ask her about it.” 

percy nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. he feels angry all of a sudden looking around the hermes cabin. it’s filled to the brim with campers, some who know who their parents are, and others who don’t. he doesn’t think anyone should have to live like this; it’s not fair. 

“how can the gods just bring us here and ignore us? how is that fair?” percy asks. 

luke shakes his head, “spend all your time trying to figure out why the gods do what they do and you’ll go crazy. besides, you haven’t even experienced the best thing that camp has to offer.” 

“what’s that?” percy asks. 

“glory.”

percy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. he vaguely remembers hearing mr. bruner, or chiron, talk about glory in class, but he can’t pinpoint the exact memory. the way luke talks about it, however, makes percy think that it must be important. there has to be some reason why everyone is fighting for glory, why they deal with all the dangers of being a demigod. 

“demigods used to fight for glory. they called it kleos. it attaches meaning to your name, making you bigger, scarier, and more important,” luke explains, leading percy outside of the hermes cabin, along with a handful of his friends. 

“it puts respect on your name,” luke’s friend, chris barges in. 

percy’s smiles at that. he likes the sound of glory, especially when some girl shoulders past him, pushing his body right into luke’s. percy stumbles, turning to face the back of the girl. he wasn’t going to deal with this bullying crap at summer camp of all places. 

“hey,” he shouts, getting her attention. 

she turns around, immediately shoving him into the ground. percy gasps, staring up at her in shock, but before she can get a word in, the girl from last night is standing in front of him. 

“knock it off clarisse. it’s like his first day,” luke mumbles. 

the girl from last night helps him up, and he smiles at her in thanks. she nods, giving him a once over, ensuring that he’s okay before she turns back to clarisse. it’s like a switch flipped inside her. those same eyes, the ones showing kindness towards him just a mere second ago, are now filled with cold, hard, anger. 

clarisse says something to taunt him, but the girl just shakes her head, crossing her arms against her chest. 

“jealous that it wasn’t you?” she taunts, stepping into clarisse’s personal space. 

“no,” clarisse snaps, facing the other girl head on. 

“really? cause it sounds like you wish you were standing in his shoes right now. maybe then daddy would give you a little bit of attention, huh?” she replies. 

luke whispers her name in a seething tone, hand pulling on her shoulder to move her away from clarisse. however, she jerks out of his grip, continuing to stare head on at the curly haired girl with a satisfied smirk playing at her lips. 

“you better watch your back,” clarisse snaps, looking at percy once again before storming off. 

“and you better watch yours,” the girl, who’s still standing in front of percy protectively answers. 

clarisse doesn’t respond, and so luke takes the time to reprimand you. his voice is soft, and percy can barely hear, let alone register, the words coming out of his mouth. you roll your eyes at whatever he’s saying, barely paying attention. instead, percy notices that your eyes aren’t leaving luke’s lips, and he’s again left wondering what’s going on between the two of you. 

“but if i wasn’t here, who was gonna play hero?” you ask, a soft pout on your lips.

percy can tell you’re teasing luke, trying to get a rise out of him, but the older boy just shakes his head in response. percy watches as your finger reaches under his bright orange shirt, looping through one of the belt loops of his cargoes. luke leans down slightly, and percy thinks he might kiss you, but you step away from him in a fit of giggles. 

“i’ll see you later, counselor luke,” you tease, walking backwards so everyone can see the teasing smile on your face. 

percy makes a mental note not to get on your bad side. 

dining pavilion, day two, evening

“is there a greek god of disappointment, maybe someone should ask if he’s missing a kid,” percy grumbles, taking a seat at the table across from luke and chris. 

after a long day of training, with little to no rewards, percy felt utterly defeated. there was some good that came out of the day’s events, however, as he realized his lack of coordination did not make him a strong candidate for the apollo cabin. similarly, setting fire to the already burning forges had luke and chris ruling out hephaestus. regardless, he just wanted his dad to recognize him. after a life of torment and the loss of his mom, the one person who loved him, he could use the validation.

luke opens his mouth, ready to answer his previous question, but chris beats him to it.

“oizys…but she’s a goddess and her whole thing isn’t really disappointment, it’s failure,” chris mumbles, pushing around the salad on his plate. 

“oh my gods chris, don’t scare the kid,” you shout, shoving his shoulder as you take a seat next to percy. 

another girl follows behind you, taking the seat on the other side of percy. he feels himself going rigid, why are these two older girls sitting by his side? he feels nervous all of a sudden, and wonders if this is normal. he looks nervously to luke, who seems to be the only one capable of providing actual guidance in these types of situations. 

luke doesn’t say anything, instead he’s too busy looking at you. 

“having daddy issues?” the girl on his right, who’s not you, asks. 

“um i guess,” percy answers, but he’s not confident in his words at all. 

the girl chuckles at him, a hand coming up to ruffle his blonde hair, and percy watches as her eyes twinkle with something akin to childish mischief. 

“maybe you’re her step-brother,” she says, gesturing towards you with a tip of her chin. 

“are you a child of aphrodite?” percy asks, because maybe this nice girl is referring to ares as his father. 

you stop chewing your dinner, shock crossing your features. the other three teens all burst into laughter, and percy doesn’t understand what’s wrong with his question. you’re pretty enough, and you seem to possess a tiny bit of mean girl energy (cause only regina george would have demolished clarisse like that). therefore, the logical conclusion is that you’re related to aphrodite. besides, aren’t ares and aphrodite secretly dating? so he’d be your step-brother? 

“what?” he asks, looking around. 

“aphrodite is not my mother,” you answer, white-knuckling the fork. 

“oh,” he says, “so who is?” 

percy watches as your jaw clenches, and you flash a dangerous look in luke’s direction. luke lifts his hands up in a state of defense, as if to say that he didn’t put percy up to this. you, however, don’t seem to believe him as you take one of the green grapes on your plate and chuck it at him. luke catches the grape in his mouth, chewing slowly with a smirk on his face. 

“almost sweetheart,” he taunts. 

you scoff before getting up from the table, with your plate, and walking towards the firepit in the middle of the pavilion. on your way over, you stick your fingers through luke’s curls, and shove his face down towards his mashed potatoes. 

“did i do something wrong?” he asks, looking at the remaining girl to his right. 

“nah, she’s always like that,” she answers.

“yeah,” chris mumbles, “if anyone knows it’s katrina.” 

they jump into their own conversation and percy watches as you drop your entire dinner into the fire pit. the flames turn a deep purple and you nod in satisfaction before walking off towards the cabins. 

he can’t figure out who likes the color purple, but wonders if it had anything to do with luke. however, he knows not to ask.

hermes cabin, day two, night

percy was supposed to be asleep twenty minutes ago, at least that’s when luke called for lights out and everyone crawled into bed. but, he really needs to use the bathroom. poor planning on his part, not going before bed time, but he knows he’ll never make it until morning. so, he gets up as quietly as possible, slips on his blue hoodie, and tip-toes towards the door of the hermes cabin. 

he hesitates for a moment, hearing two people talking quietly outside the door. he waits patiently, hoping that they’ll leave, but their conversation only keeps going. 

“and annabeth’s sure about this?” someone asks, and percy realizes that it’s you.

the other person scoffs, “you doubting my sister?”, and percy pinpoints the voice as luke’s.

“never. i’m doubting him,” you answer.

“c’mon, you know clarisse picks on everybody,” luke mumbles.

there’s a pause in the conversation, and percy thinks maybe you’ve left or moved on, but then your voice rings out into the quiet of the night: 

“i have this feeling that he’s important, but i can’t figure out why.” 

another pause. 

“we’ll see when he gets claimed,” luke answers. 

“if he gets claimed,” you reply. 

“he will, even if it’s hera style,” luke says, and percy can’t help himself from opening the door. 

“your mom’s hera? i thought she didn’t have kids!” percy shouts, shocking both you and luke. 

you jump, and percy watches as you move to hide the bright orange vape in your hand. you wave away some of the smoke, and luke steps slightly in front of you, blocking your body from percy’s view. he notices the protective edge in luke’s posture, and how there was already very little space between you two. 

“what are you doing out past curfew?” luke asks, staring percy down. 

“i could ask you the same thing, but for the record, i’m going to the bathroom,” percy explains, standing his guard. 

“just be quick, and watch out for the harpies,” you advise, tugging on the back of luke’s camp counselor shirt. 

percy nods before walking by the two of you to head down the stairs. once he’s a little ways away, he risks a glance back at the hermes cabin porch. you’re still standing there with luke, his palms resting on your waist as he rubs circles with his thumb on your exposed skin. you two are whispering about something, but he can’t figure out what. he sees you slip luke your vape, but looks away when the older boy takes a hit. 

that seemed oddly intimate. 

lakeshore, day three, post-capture the flag

he’s in for it now, at least that’s what he assumes when he sees half of clarisse’s spear in his fist. she screams loudly, and percy hopes that you’ll hear and come to his rescue. thankfully, his saving grace comes in the form of the head counselor of the hermes cabin. 

luke comes rushing down the side lines, holding the red flag high above his head. several people are following him, the entire blue team in fact, but percy can easily pinpoint you in the crowd. you don’t have a helmet on, which isn’t surprising to him; it fits your character. he notices how the baby hairs stick to your sweaty forehead, yet your eyes are bright and happy. this has to be the happiest he’s seen you. 

your eyes never leave luke, even as he accepts hugs, handshakes, and overall congratulations from the other members of the team. finally, after the novelty of winning wears off, and his siblings finally give luke some space, you walk over to him. you shoulder check him, causing him to stumble a little on his feet, but the happiness doesn’t leave either of your eyes. 

percy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. you’re mean to luke, but you’re also not mean to luke. 

“where’s my hug at?” luke asks, opening his arms wide for you. 

you snort at him, shoving him backwards with a firm hand on his chestplate. luke doesn’t seem to mind, however, as his smile widens and he pulls off his helmet. he shakes his head back and forth, letting his curls loose after being confined for so long. percy watches you watch him, bottom lip between your teeth. luke opens his mouth, ready to say something, but you prevent him from even doing so. instead, you grab onto the brown leather straps of his armor, and pull his lips down to yours.

all the campers ring out in cheers. some of them even clap at the display of affection from the two of you. 

“so they’re dating?” he asks no one in particular. 

“yes,” annabeth answers from beside him. 

he turns to look at her, understanding washing over him. you and luke are perfect for each other, balancing each other out. percy hopes he’ll find something like that with someone. he looks around camp, and his eyes land on annabeth, who magically appeared next to him. 

“hey wait…were you here the whole time?” percy asks her, feeling a little angry that she basically watched him get his ass kicked by clarisse. 

“percy,” she starts, “i’m really sorry about this,” and she pushes him into the water.

taglist: @percabethlvr @iwantahockeyhimbo @hottiewifeyyyy @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @maraschinocherry3 @used2beeeeee @harrysnovia @cami-is-reading @mxtokko @cxcilla @obxstiles

[verstappen-cult]

a request for Max Verstappen where you guys are cuddle in bed and can hear the kids and Jimmy and Sassy waking up to come to your room

✦ ۰ —ᣞ ⊹ ݁ ﹙ 🖇️ ﹚: mornings with max.

mornings with max are your favorite time of the day. as simple as that. you love the life you have with your kids, caring for them and spending the day at home doing the most of every day. but it can be chaotic, like most days are, and mornings are calm. mornings are for just you and him.

waking up early and staying in bed for as long as your kids will allow you is what you always do; with max’s arms wrapped around your body, holding you tightly against his chest. and today is no exception.

“want to stay here all day.” those are his first words, voice raspy and muffled by your hair.

“yeah? but we could, you know.” you turn to look at him with a small smile while lightly brushing his arm with the pad of your fingers. max’s eyes light up at finally seeing your face, as if he didn’t just fall asleep looking at you hours earlier. “we just need to make room for two little people.”

he snorts, helping you turn your body around to face him. “i love those two with my life, but i need some time alone with my wife.”

you lean closer to leave a chaste kiss on his lips, but then he’s grabbing you by the neck and forcing you to stay there. you’re more than happy to oblige.

however, you’re in the middle of making out when a sudden sound makes you pull away.

“i’m going,” max says, kissing your cheek. but before he can even begin to get up, you can hear one of your kids shushing the other one. “what are they doing?”

jimmy jumps on the bed, startling you both, followed closely by a very startled sassy.

“hey, buddy?” max is still holding you very close and tight, but you manage to scratch behind jimmy’s ears, making him purr and lean into your touch.

“i swear they love you more than me.” your husband groans, pouting just like your little ones do when they don’t get what they really want, like ice cream for breakfast. which is an issue every single morning.

“what can i say,” you shrug, sticking out your tongue at him. “everyone loves me.”

“yeah but no one more than me.” he’s still pouting and you really can’t help but touch his bottom lip with your thumb before kissing him.

“i don’t know. i think i need you to prove it.” you tease him and max is right there with you, mischief dancing in his ocean blue eyes.

but before he can even think on doing anything, the screaming and running outside the room makes you look at the two little angels with their pretty smiles and tiny feet coming your way. and as they jump on the bed, scaring the cats and forcing them to hide beneath the blankets, you know the moment is over.

“good morning you little devils, what were you doing, uh?” max takes the girl, floris, in his arms and she goes willingly, happy to be in her daddy’s arms.

“flo wanted ice cream,” her twin brother, bram, says while sliding in bed with you. “couldn’t find it.” and mirroring his father’s actions from before, he pouts, looking at you with those bright blue eyes and the most manipulative look on his face.

“mh, let’s see,” max doesn’t miss the warning look you give him, he chooses to ignore it. “if you can make jimmy and sassy eat all their food without making a mess, you can have some.”

both of them scream in excitement, jumping off the bed as quickly as possible while calling for the cats to follow them, which they do immediately.

“max!” you groan in frustration, but max just raises his hands in defense.

and as innocent as he can, he just says: “don’t blame me!” max tries to get out of bed without you noticing but you are one step ahead of him and before he has time to leave, you grab him by his shirt. “but schat! blame them and their little round and glassy eyes, they bought me!”

you know that whatever you do, they will have their ice cream for breakfast, max included. you just need to be prepared for three kids and two cats running like crazy around the house.

mornings. you wouldn’t trade them for anything.

[libraryofloveletters]

Gimme A Smooch

Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: lover boy max, he's pretending to be annoyed but he loveessss the attention, reader nearly has a heart attack, jimmy and sassy cameo, cheesiness from max

Word Count: 669

Author's Note: everyone writes max so aggressive but he deserves a soft blurb because he's a lover boy.

--

He was never one to indulge in things like mistletoe but since he begun to date you, he didn’t have much of a choice. 

When the holidays rolled around, you tended to get a bit unhinged.

You went all out when it came to decorating and Max let you do your thing because the less he has to do, the better. If he was single, he would have hired someone to do it or just not do it all together.

He did suggest hiring someone and you looked at him as if you were ready to bite off his head. You ask if he's insane and tell him that you'd do it, no one else is going to decorate as long as you were there.

Max left you to do your thing, he had gone up to the Red Bull factory for the weekend, they were holding some sort of holiday party for their staff at the factory.

When he returns home, he barely gets to put his key into the lock before the door opens.

"You owe me a kiss." You tell him, hands on your hips.

Max's brows furrow, looking at you a bit confused. "Hello to you too, babe."

You point above him, Max's head tilts back and her looks up to see the bundle of mistletoe you've hung from the front door. He smiles, his arms snaking around your waist, giving you a kiss. You smiled, smoothing over his jacket, "welcome home."

Max gives you another quick kiss, walking into the house. He had left before you put anything up but now it was completely different; you had rearranged the furniture to make space for a massive Christmas tree and you had decorated from top to bottom, ornaments, garlands, decorative throw pillows, you even went as far as to change the curtains.

He didn't miss the mistletoe hanging above each doorway. "What's this about?" He asks, pointing to the bundle of greenery.

You pull him to the arch leaving into the living room, kissing him once again. "That," you smiled.

He rolled his eyes playfully, letting you drag him through the house, stopping under every bundle of mistletoe for a kiss.

"Does this mean you're gonna stop me all day and give me a kiss every time?" He looked at you, your arms wrapped around his waist as you looked up at him, nodding. "Absolutely."

"As much as I'd love that, I have to do this simulator for Christian."

"Oh boo, doesn't this man take a break? It is the holidays, you know." You groaned, forehead pressed to Max's chest.

He cups your jaw, pulling you to look at him. "I won't be long, just this one last thing."

"Fine," you let him go, Max kissed your head before heading up to the room with his simulator.

It was just a little over an hour when you heard the shouting. "Y/n! Y/n!" Your boyfriend shouts at the top of his lungs.

You find yourself rushing up the stairs, nearly tripping. "What?!" You looked around, "what's wrong?!"

He shook his head, pointing to the two cats curled up next to each other in the corner of the doorway. Jimmy and Sassy seemed to have missed their daddy, curling up in his simulator room as he worked.

You smiled but smacked Max's arm. "You gave me a heart attack!" Max laughs, his arm around your waist as he pulls you to him. "Sorry baby, let me make it up to you hm?"

"I'm listening," you look at him and there's a wicked smile on his face, pulling you flush to him for a breathtaking kiss.

Your hand rests on his cheek when he lets you go, head spinning as you look at the man. "What.. wow." You giggled and Max smiled, kissing you once more but softly this time.

"What brought that on?" You asked.

Max points above the two of you and you look up to see a bundle of mistletoe you know you didn't put up there.

"What happened to not liking it?" You asked him with a raised brow.

He smiles, "never said that, did I?"

[perlelune]

Sippy Cup | Coriolanus Snow

The war never left you, so you find a way to cope. One where you never lost your childhood. One where the world is still pure and safe. And Coriolanus can't resist that innocence.

Warnings: NON-CON, Dd/lg, Little!Reader, Innocence Kink, Mentions of war, PTSD, Manipulation, Age Regression, Capitol!Reader

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

The first time Coriolanus catches you and Tigris playing Tea Party, you expect to find disdain in his eyes, mockery perhaps. Instead, another emotion blooms in the blond’s cerulean gaze. Curiosity.

It happens on a sweltering Tuesday afternoon, the sizzling summer rays spilling through the half-drawn lace curtains of your bedroom. As usual, you and Tigris are sitting across from each other with Teddy occupying the third seat between the two of you. He is being his sassy self, of course, complaining about the sitting arrangement and wanting more tea cakes on his plate. You scold him, reminding him what happened the last time he went on a sugar high. Teddy’s eyes are much bigger than his stomach.

Nervousness slithered through you when you confessed your secret to Tigris. You didn’t want to, initially. You missed several days of class at the Capitol University in a row and your best friend grew concerned enough to show up at your house unannounced. She found you right here, playing with your dolls and chatting with your bear.

You explained to her that the pressure to be big is too much sometimes, that instead of shaking and crying on the floor of the girls’ bathroom, you come here. Once you enter your bedroom, every single woe vanishes. Your head is empty and your heart is full. You’re a carefree, happy little girl once more.

To your surprise, there isn’t a shred of judgment in Tigris’ eyes when you tell her. She never utters a single bad word about the neat rows of dolls and plushies adorning your shelves, your soft pink walls, your frilly dresses or the ribbons in your hair. When you reveal your little secret to her, what you did to ward off the nightmares, she simply listens, hands on her chest as her blue eyes fill with tears. You tell her the pink helps erase the red. The same red that splattered across the pavement when your parents and brother’s bodies hit the ground during the First Rebellion. You were still holding your brother’s hand when he fell. You held it even as his palm grew cold and stiff against yours. If it weren’t for the Snow cousins prying your weeping form off his that day, you might have stayed there and met the same fate.

Tigris gave you the warmest hug. Then she asked if she could play with you, if that’d cheer you up. You were ecstatic. Since that day, Tigris would play dolls with you, attend your tea parties and even fill out your coloring books with you sometimes. You never have to pretend with Tigris. Don’t have to pretend to be a big girl. Or speak long, complicated words. Or care about big, important things. You can just be a princess in her pink castle.

It’s why ice scatters in your veins when Coriolanus watches you and Tigris from the ajar door. 

“You weren’t coming home, so I came to check on you,” he mumbles as he takes in the scene before him. Your face heats beneath Coriolanus’ wide-eyed stare.

Alarm flickers over Tigris’ face.

“You need to learn to knock, Coryo,” she chides. She whispers a gentle apology to you before getting to her feet. She nudges Coriolanus outside of your bedroom and they head to the bottom of the stairs.

Eavesdropping is bad; you know it. Good little girls don’t peep or listen through the door. But you can’t help it. Heart in your throat, you try to hear the whispered conversation between Tigris and her cousin. You only catch snippets. Your best friend’s voice is a little harsher than you’re used to, like she’s a bit upset.

Don’t you dare make fun of her.

She needs this, Coryo.

Stark blue eyes lock with yours from afar. Your heart slams against your ribcage. You hastily shove the door closed, rushing back to your pink wooden chair.

You pick up Teddy and cradle him against your chest. “Coryo is our friend,” you remind him. “He wouldn’t make fun of us.” Teddy is uncharacteristically quiet. You feel tears rush to your eyes, your bear’s doubts starting to creep into you.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

The deep voice rolling over you yanks you from your thoughts. Your head whips up. Coriolanus’ hunkering at your side, his head tilted in inquiry. You glance past his shoulder. Tigris is standing behind her cousin with her arms folded, her wary gaze glued to his form. 

“Join us?” you repeat, dazed by his question. 

The corners of the blond’s lips lift. 

“Yes, it’s a tea party, isn’t it?”

Your gaze bulges. You never expected to hear such words spilling from Coryo’s mouth. He’s always so serious, so very serious, having no time for games. He’s been like that for as long as you can remember.

You wipe your tears and sniffle. 

A little defensive, you clutch fistfuls of your pink dress.

“Tea parties aren’t for boys. They’re for princesses,” you state curtly.

Coriolanus’ expression softens as he considers you.

“Then I could be a knight, from a visiting kingdom.” You purse your lips, brows knitting. The blond’s warm breath caresses your ear as he bends over you, “Knights protect princesses.”

You mull it over. It’d be nice to have someone watch over you and Teddy, make sure no rebels storm your castle walls, paint your heart-covered walls red. You pluck your teddy bear from his stool and question him.

“What do you think, Teddy?” A very serious conversation silently occurs between you and your plushie. After a few minutes, you hum and nod, agreeing with him. Your eyes rise to meet Coryo’s. “Teddy says he’s okay with it.”

A bright smile unfurls on Coriolanus’ handsome face.

“That’s wonderful, princess.”

Over time, Coriolanus’ visits grow more frequent. He even gets into the habit of bringing you gifts, like new plushies and sugary treats. Despite your reluctance to include him because he’s a boy and boys can be mean and smelly, the time you spend with him is always a highlight in your day. Coryo is never smelly; he smells like the flowers in the Grandma’am’s garden and fresh pine. And he’s not mean. He never fails to be sweet to you, bowing to you and kissing your hand like a knight would, and always embracing every one of your games.

He becomes a fixture in your weekly tea parties, often accompanying Tigris or showing up when she’s too busy at the workshop to make it. 

Somehow he always finds time for you, even if you know he’s so busy with important, grown-up things. You’re delighted. While playing alone is fun, your imagination knowing no bounds, it’s always better with a friend.

Today is one of these days. It’s just you and Coryo hanging out in your bedroom. He spends most of the evening handing you crayons while you color in the new picture book he got you, a comfortable silence swaddling the both of you. Coryo appears content just observing you, a peaceful smile hovering on his lips. The book is full of beautiful drawings of birds and landscapes. You never had one this nice so you were beyond thrilled to start coloring it.

When the sky gets darker outside your window, you sit up. You turn to Coryo.

“It’s getting late. I guess it’s time for the tea party to end. It was lovely of you to visit us, Sir Coriolanus and we hope-”

“Tigris said you were having nightmares,” he interrupts.

You go still, the crayons between your fingers clattering to the floor.

“That was a secret,” you mutter, your chest clenching. Why would Tigris tell him that? She’s your best friend. She should keep all your secrets forever. As you simmer in disappointment, Coryo places his fingers under your chin and lifts it. Your tearful gaze meets his.

“You can trust me too, princess,” he assures softly.

As you drown in his gaze, you get lost in a memory. Suddenly all the pink in your room is gone. Unmoving bodies. Gaping mouths. Hollow eyes. 

Bright red ribbons flowing from their mouths. Crimson confetti popping from their bellies. 

Everything in your vision becomes red.

You curl against the edge of the bed and close your eyes.

Hands on the side of your head, you take a deep breath. You slowly open your eyes again. You focus on the plushies sitting on your shelves until the somber clouds over your thoughts turn into cotton candy again.

You coax a shaky smile onto your lips. 

“I don’t want to talk about it. Can we just play?”

He chuckles.

“It’s too late for games, princess. Isn’t it your bedtime by now?”

“Then I guess you should go, Coryo,” you say, resting your chin against your knees.

Coriolanus pauses, studying you for a while.

His next words are barely above a whisper.

“Or I could stay.” His large hand drapes over yours, covering your knees. “I could sleep in your bed with you.”

Shocked that he’d even suggest such a thing, you gasp.

“Boys and girls don’t sleep in the same bed,” you mumble.

He cocks his head, amusement swimming in his blue eyes.

“But I’m not a boy. I’m your knight, remember?”

Happiness flows through you with this reminder.

“Yes, you are,” you chime.

His fingers slowly drag over your joined knees.

“Actually…I could be more than your knight, princess.” His gaze locks with yours. “I could be your daddy.”

Your forehead creases, confusion mounting inside you.

“My daddy?”

His lips twist in an uneven smile.

“Yes…daddies protect their little girls. Just like knights.” His fingers drift down to your ankle, the warmth of his touch seeping through your thigh high socks. “They don’t let anyone hurt their pretty princesses. And they keep the nightmares and monsters away at night.”

Amazement colors your tone with this knowledge.

“Really?”

“Of course.” He cups your cheek. “I could sleep in the bed with you and keep my little girl safe that way.”

“I could even tell you a bedtime story.”

Your eyes light up. “A bedtime story?” 

He fondles your cheek, his expression softening.

“Of course, anything for my sweet little girl.”

You climb into bed, your entire body shaking in anticipation. Coryo removes his shoes. He picks a book from your shelf and joins you on the bed. He gets under the covers with you and tucks your head against his chest. He opens the book to the first page, his tone patient and clear as he begins to read the tale to you. Your lids sag as you relax against Coryo, his fingers absently stroking the top of your head. You get engrossed in the story of a princess who gets lost on her way home. Lulled by his deep voice, you sink into sleep before the story’s even done.

For the first time in a while, a dreamless slumber welcomes you that night.

When Coryo’s tall frame slips through your door that day, hope twitches inside your chest. 

Tigris promised she’ll come today. She’s canceled on you so much lately and expressed how awful she feels about it, so you have been looking forward to seeing her again.

For some reason, work has been exceptionally busy these last few weeks. And while you understand how important work is to your best friend, you’ve missed her so much.

However as he clicks the door shut and you realize no one’s trailing behind Coriolanus, your shoulders slump.

The faint hope you harbored withers away.

“I thought Tigris was coming today.”

Coriolanus sighs as he inches towards you.

“I know princess…” He plucks your hands from your lap. “But there was an emergency at the dress shop. It’s gonna keep her the whole night.” His lips graze the back of your hand. “I’m sorry, she said it was more important than being here.”

Your mouth flies open.

More important than being here? Coryo’s words drive a dagger through your chest, his sympathetic expression twisting it even more.

You lower your head. Tigris has had a lot of emergencies lately. You hardly spend any time together anymore. Part of you even wonders if maybe she’s sick of playing with you. After all, Tigris is a big girl with many things to do. You know she dreams of becoming a stylist and that’s likely more important than silly little girl games. You swallow the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. 

Coryo cradles your face.

“But daddy’s here to play with you.”

Your voice trembles as you quell a sob. You look at him, warmth flowing through your chest. Your daddy’s right. You have no reason to be sad. After all, he’s with you. Just like he’s held you against him so many times in the last few weeks, reading you stories to help you fall asleep, and cheering you up whenever you felt sad, you can always count on your daddy.

“That’s amazing, daddy.”

His eyes seem to flare with an idea.

“Actually I thought we could play a new game today.”

Curiosity widens your gaze. “A new game?”

Coryo pulls you closer, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

“Yes.” He pauses before revealing slowly, “It’s called ‘Mommy and Daddy’, princess.”

“Mommy and daddy?” Your brows squeeze together in confusion. “Tigris and I have never played that before.”

Coryo licks his lips, his gaze running over you.

“It’s a special game between daddies and their little girls,” he explains, his tone lower than before.

“I don’t know it.”

A deep chuckle parts from his lips. You frown, not understanding what’s so funny.

“I know you don’t, sweet girl,” he says. fondling your cheek. A tilted smile blooms on his lips. “It’s okay because Daddy can teach you all about it.”

You feel nothing but complete trust as Coriolanus nudges you backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You look up at him, a mix of confusion and curiosity written on your features. He smiles at you, sinking to his knees to remove your shoes. 

You watch him do it, wondering why they need to be off for the game. Your daddy’s palm lingers on the sole of your socked feet, his finger traveling upward, dragging over your ankle. 

His eyes look a little weird now, though you can’t explain in what way. You frown, the air around you growing colder.

Did you forget to close the window?

He crawls over you, pushing you down on the mattress. Coriolanus’ smell surrounds you and your nose twitches. You’re not used to being so close to him. You can make out every detail of his handsome face, trace every one of his long lashes, and distinguish every line on his face.

He scrutinizes your form beneath him, one hand beside our head while the other sweeps under your thigh. 

“What’s going on, daddy?” you ask, your voice trembling. 

“It’s a game that’s easier played on a bed, princess.”

You give a nod of understanding. He strokes the side of your face, pride lacing his tone.

“Such a good girl.”

He bends his head against your shoulder. You hold your breath, a little uncomfortable for a reason you can’t place. Daddy drops a kiss at the base of your neck. Goosebumps spark on your skin. His kisses go lower and lower, his large hands following the same path. 

When his fingers land between your legs, your eyes go wide with confusion.

“D-Daddy, what are you doing?”

A soft gasp leaves you as he begins to rub your cotton panties. 

“There’s a special place where daddies touch mommies,” he whispers. He clutches at your center and the breath dies your throat. Your body gets hotter, your belly tightening as he pinches you in a particular spot. Coriolanus’ fingers go up and down. It both hurts and doesn’t hurt. Twisting and pulsing in a foreign way the more he touches you. Overwhelmed by the feeling spreading all the way to your toes, you cling to his arms for support.

His blue eyes are glued to your squirming frame as he traces circles around that little spot that leaves you feeling strange.

The hand besides your head moves, drifting to unbutton his pants. Your heart skips a beat as a part of your daddy you never saw is revealed to you. It’s big and red at the tip. You tense, heat rushing through you as you look away.

“Look at me, princess,” he instructs, drawing your quivering chin back to him. He presses himself against your little girl parts. Whimpers spill from your mouth as he humps you through your clothes, pinning you underneath his frame.

His hot breath rolls over your face.

“How does it feel?”

“A little weird.” You shake your head, a surge of tears threatening to break free beneath your lashes. “I don’t know if I like this game…”

He frames your chin, squeezing more tightly than usual. “Do you want to make daddy happy, princess?”

“Y-Yes,” you stammer.

His thumb skims over your shuddering mouth.

“This is daddy’s favorite game to play with his princess.”

“Okay…”

Your mood sinks. You’re liking the game less and less the longer it goes on, but you don’t want to disappoint your daddy who held you almost every night to chase away the bad dreams. His daddy thing gets heavier and bigger against your belly while he moves. He grunts, his throat rippling. The sensation is almost too much to bear, your vision swaying as he stimulates your little girl parts.

Daddy’s game is a little strange, you’re starting to think, and it’s making you feel weird things. Weird, tingly things. And it makes the room spin like a carousel. 

You try to close your legs, stop the wave of strange, uncomfortable feelings…But Coriolanus wedges himself between your thighs, forcing your knees apart.

“Daddy…”

His brow twitches. “Shh, let daddy take care of you, princess.” His lips cover yours, smothering all your doubts. You feel bruises form on your mouth and cheek as he kisses you harshly. Lips trailing down to your neck, he pulls your panties down your legs. 

There’s barely time for you to register the cool air hitting your bare center before he’s starting to push himself in. The pain strikes you mute at first. Just the tip of him is so much. Too much. It feels like you will break any second. Coriolanus pants above you, straining to fit as you squeeze around him, fear and pain throbbing through you.

“It’s okay, princess. Daddy’s got you,” he mutters.

When he sinks even further, a broken sob leaves you. A fire burns you from inside, amplifying every time your daddy moves ever-so-slightly.

Tears fill your eyes to the brim. 

“I don’t like this game, daddy. Can we stop playing, please?” 

He wipes your tears with soft kisses. The words pouring into your ear, while uttered sweetly, are firm. “The game’s not over until daddy says it is, princess.”

Your breath falters as he goes all the way inside. He hums deep in his throat, draping himself over your shaking frame. Your head lolls to the side, your eyes wandering to your dolls and stuffed animals. The abrupt urge to poke their eyes out so they don’t have to see any of this blooms inside you. Tears stream down your cheeks as Coriolanus thrusts inside you. His throaty moans mingle with the slapping of skin against skin. The noises your daddy makes get louder every time he slams into you. He spreads your thighs more, pushing deeper. When you tighten around him, your daddy moans, his eyes rolling back. 

“You’re squeezing daddy’s cock so well, princess,” he lauds, knuckles dragging over your temple.

He goes faster, hitting sensitive parts that draw sharp noises of agony from you. Every part of your body is wide awake with pain and discomfort. Numb with a plethora of confusing, terrifying emotions, you don’t move as his hips snap into yours relentlessly. 

The game lasts for hours, it seems. You’re thankful when daddy appears done, his movements getting sloppier as his pace slows.

As his hips stutter, his hand wraps around your jaw. 

“Daddy’s going to come inside you, so you have to say ‘thank you’”

A hoarse sigh leaves him, his lashes fluttering as he empties himself inside you. You shudder.

“Thank you for coming inside me, daddy,” you mechanically repeat. Bile rises in your throat as the excess gathers around your folds, pooling over your once pristine white sheets. 

His sweaty form folds over yours. Another tear slides down your cheek.

“Such a good girl for me.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck and coos, “We’re going to play so many fun games together, princess.”

Your stomach curls with dread at that promise.

[fungal-rot]

Sweet, Domestic Life

this one's actually based off a lucid dream i had months ago and oh how i wish to be back there </3 so i decided to write a quick little one shot about it

pairing: Joel x Reader

summary: you and joel have a three year old daughter, and today is her birthday. the two of you are setting up for her party!

warnings: age gap between joel and reader, no specified age for reader, jackson!era, the daughter isn't named here bc i wanted it to feel a little more personal for the reader, but her nickname is Bug, you and Joel make out for a quick second, your child is a cock-block, reader is referred as mama.

w.c.: 1.2k

⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

Mermaid-Princesses.

That is the theme your three year old daughter had her little heart set on. And of course, Joel did everything in his power to make it happen because 'whatever daddy's girl wants, daddy's girl gets.' So now here you were, hunched over while holding a plastic tiara with pink, heart-shaped rhinestones in one hand, and trying to zip up the back of this corny little iridescent mermaid dress with the other- on a child that couldn't sit still for longer than a second.

"Bug, I need you to stop moving," You tell her as you followed her tiny steps, hand chasing the zipper as she toddled off. Joel sat on the couch, blowing up balloons and tying them off before bopping them elsewhere into the living room. He watched the two of you with a fond gleam in his eyes, chuckling under his breath as the girl argued incoherently, wanting to go play.

"W- hold on a sec, girlfriend." You huffed and placed your hands on your hips, peering down at her with a cocked brow, "I'm almost done."

"No, I play now." She spoke back immediately with a firm shake of her head and scampered off, tiny feet stomping against the hardwood floor. You sighed and threw your hands up before letting them drop back to your sides with a light smack.

Toddlers, man.

"She gets that from you," Joel commented, a smirk turning up one corner of his mouth as he tied off another balloon. "That 'tude. Just as sassy as her mama." He tossed the balloon into the air and smacked it in your direction.

With a quick titter, you reached out and tapped the bottom with the tiara, letting it hover for a second longer before hitting it to the ground with the rest. "Mm, you must be so happy." Your brows waggled teasingly with an imperceptible back-and-forth nod of your head.

Joel was silent for a beat, his heart leaping in his chest as he stared back at you. He thought about all he's lost, all he's gained, and where he's at right now. He never thought he'd have another kid after Sarah, let alone two. Life was currently really good for the older man. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, gaze softening as he gave you the gentlest smile, "The happiest." He responded sincerely.

Your shoulders droop a bit with a fluttering feeling growing in your stomach. Then making your way towards him, you sat down and ran your fingers through the graying hair at the nape of his neck.

"I love you," With a murmur you lean in and press a delicate, chaste kiss to his cheek, only for him to return it by swiveling his head and cupping your jaw tenderly, kissing you slowly and passionately. Joel placed a big hand at the small of your back as he licked at your bottom lip before slipping it in for a deep, loving kiss; noses pressed against the others cheek as he wrapped another arm around you.

He pulled away, just enough to reply, "I love you," and crashed his mouth against yours once more.

Then your daughter came running back in, now holding a pair of pink plastic princess pumps, the face of Aurora- Sleeping Beauty- buttoned at the top in feathery down in her pudgy hands, "Mama, shoes."

Your lips part from Joel's with a wet 'smack' as you peer down at your kid, nodding vaguely with a smile, "Yeah, they are! You want mama to help?" You tentatively reach your hands out in an offering, but she quickly turned her body from you, hugging the toy shoes to her chest.

"No, I do'd it."

You giggled, finding her grammar mishap endearing. "Okay, you 'do'd' it, then."

She turned her back to the two of you and crouched down, carefully placing the items to the floor before standing upright again, teetering a bit and grasping Joel's knee for support. He held out his arms, spotting her as he arched his brows in light amusement.

"Y'got it?" He asked, head tilting while he watched his babygirl hike a leg up, struggling to find balance.

"No." She answered softly, lips thinning and brows furrowing with concentration. The shoes were certainly too big for her, you noticed, as she slipped one foot in and lifted the other to do the same.

"Y'want my help?"

"No."

Joel turned to you with a flat expression, eyes saying, 'I told you.'

Yeah, this was definitely your child.

Yet you shrug your shoulders dismissively, slipping the tiara into his hair, leaving it lopsided, "Here, hold that," you spoke and took the opportunity to finally get your daughter's dress zipped, careful to not snag her hair or undershirt into it.

"And she actually gets her stubbornness from you, by the way." You smoothed her sleeves out, working your way down to adjust the shimmery tail of her dress, tugging at the hem slightly while she got her other foot in the slipper, bending over to reach for a red balloon.

All he could do was hum in response, the corner of his mouth flitting up as he grabbed the inflated sack of rubber and handed it to her. She held it up over her head, the static electricity making her hair stand up.

When she finally got situated, Joel let his arms lower a bit as she turned, arms still over her head while her feet scuffled against the floor.

Your daughter's face beamed with delight as she looked between the two of you proudly.

"Lookit you!" Joel exclaimed, mirroring her expression. His palms then splayed under her armpits, and with a soft grunt he picked her up, placing her on his lap before smoothing her flyaways down. He plucked the tiara off his head and placed it on hers, adjusting it so it would sit right, "Daddy's li'l princess."

Her shoulders turned up, now holding the balloon in one pudgy hand while the other placed against her mouth with a scrunched nose and toothy smile as she giggled excitedly.

"More like daddy's li'l stinkbutt," Another voice entered. Ellie walked in, kicking a few balloons to the side with arms folded over her chest as she observed the little girl with a playful glint in her eyes. The comment didn't faze the toddler one bit; instead she lifted her feet, presenting them to Ellie.

"Bellie, shoes." Her voice squeaked, legs kicking and arms reaching out to be held. The oldest girl laughed quietly at the mispronunciation of her name and leaned down to pick her up from Joel's lap, hoisting her onto her hip with a soft bounce.

"I see that, Bug!" She began to walk off, continuing to hold the conversation. "You know what a princess needs? A knight," Her voice carried through the living room and down the hall.

"I'll protect you from dragons, and monsters, and weird men who want to court you-"

You chortled with a shake of your head, leaning into Joel's side, resting your head on his shoulder and run your hand between the spot on his shoulder blades. The two of you sat there, relishing in the family you've created. Even though life wasn't like it used to be, it was still a nice change of pace to what you've endured before.

Life was good.

⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

again, thank you, everyone who’s shown me support and love on my last fics. i’m very grateful for every reblog and comment, please keep doing that. it makes me motivated to keep writing.

[anothermansjeans]

fast forward to the future, spencer and youtube reader showing their baby their videos and stuff idkkk i just need dad spence and i’m loving your youtube reader stuff

I LOVE THEM SM AHHHH!!!! i couldn't decide on a name so she's nameless rn (i was able to exclude using a name)!! i also just love this idea of their kid not being in any videos but loves watching them after the fact 🤧

cw: their kid calls them mommy and daddy (ik that's weird for some people...?) it's all fluff baby, sassy spencer in shown through him and his spawn

wc: 729

youtuber!reader masterlist

++

“Mommy, can we watch the Daddy makeup video again?”

Your four-year-old daughter climbed up next to where you were cuddled on the couch. You looked over at Spencer with an amused smile. He cleared his throat and sat up, removing his arm from around you to pick up your daughter.

“How about we watch something else?”

“Please!” Tears started to form in her eyes, but you quickly swooped in before the meltdown.

“What if we showed you a different video of Mommy and Daddy?” Snuggled into her father’s chest, she sniffled and rubbed her eyes as she nodded. You leaned over to grab the remote, pulling YouTube up on your TV. “Do you want to watch me put fake nails on your Dad, or watch us push whipped cream in each other’s faces.” You looked over at her and raised your eyebrows in a silly manner, causing her to laugh in Spencer’s lap.

“Whipped cream!”

Spencer feigned a sigh, “I guess that's okay.”

“It better be, Mister!”

You covered your mouth to suppress the giggle threatening to come up. Spencer’s jaw dropped and he looked at you like you were the one who said it… and you have said it (which is definitely where she got it from), but you didn't say it this time. “Actually, it’s ‘Doctor’.”

He lightly squeezed her sides, which caused her to fall into a fit of giggles. “Okay! I’m sorry, Dr. Daddy!” She eventually calmed down, and you looked over at them.

“Are you two ready?”

“Patience is a virtue, love,” Spencer said with a wicked smile. You knew exactly what was going to happen next.

“Yeah, pa– patience is a virtue, Mommy.” Her four-year-old voice was able to get the sentence out, and now you were the one with a mouth open. She definitely got this sassiness from her father.

“I’m playing the video now, so you better pay attention, little miss.”

The three of you sat back on the couch as the video began. It was a newly-weds type of game the two of you played where every time one of you got a question wrong, you’d get “pied” aka, whipped cream to the face.

Your daughter shared a few laughs here and there, but it was about halfway through the video when she fully lost it.

A question was asked about what you wanted to be when you were a kid, and Spencer got it right. Again.

“This was a dumb idea, he has an eidetic memory!”

“Sucks to suck!”

You gasped and turned to him with wide eyes, “how dare you! I think you deserve whipped cream to the face!” You picked up the plate of whipped cream and smashed it into his face, catching him off guard. Spencer slowly wiped the cream from his eyes and looked over at you. You knew that look, so you stood up quickly to run away. Unfortunately, you must have dropped whipped cream on the ground because as soon as your foot touched down, you slipped and fell on your bottom.

Spencer was quick to react, “are you okay?” He was concerned, but started to laugh. You gave him an unamused look and he became more serious, leaning forward with his hand out to help you up.

Unfortunately for him, you had other ideas. You pulled him towards you, causing him to fall, and took a handful of the whipped cream on the floor and smeared it all over him.

In the video, the two of you were trapped in a fit of laughter, which caused your kid to do the same. You had to remind her a few times to breathe when she would become red in the face, but she was able to control herself by the time the video was over.

“That was so good, Mommy! You got Daddy good!”

“Thank you, baby.” You laughed and stuck your tongue out at Spencer, which he childishly reciprocated.

“Can we watch another one?” She was very enthusiastic, clinging onto Spencer as she shifted around to become closer to you too.

“Sure,” you began to look through the other options, “which one should we watch next?”

“Hmmm,” she exaggeratedly pursed her lips, “oh! What is that one called, Daddy?”

She points at a video that causes you and Spencer to share a loving smile. “That one's titled The Love of Our Life…”

++

youtuber!reader taglist: @im-a-ghost666 @lyd14k4y @happiestcat @hauntedtv13 @obi-wansgirl @charismatic-writer @navs-bhat @itsleilabxtch @strabarrybat @hiireadstuff @cherrybb-ily @wietske27

let me know if you want to be added or removed!

[tkwrites]

Please - Quinn Hughes x ofc

gif by 40ep

Title: Please

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts

Summary: After they finally move in together, Sarah follows through with Quinn's request for her to edge him.

Warnings: smut (18+ only), unprotected sex (wrap it up unless you're in a consenting relationship!) p in v, fingering (f receiving), oral (m and f receiving), edging, orgasm denial, slight domination, sub Quinn

Word count: 2,600

Comments: The idea for this came to me in the wee morning about two weeks ago. I started writing right away, and it kind of took on a life of its own. It's beyond smutty and a little outside my usual wheelhouse and comfort zone. All the same, I hope you enjoy! If you do, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask! Your feedback gives me so much inspiration to keep writing.

Please

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

“Sarah,” Quinn begged, “Sarah, please.” 

She ignored him, continuing to trace her mouth over his left thigh. 

A moan that was thoroughly pornographic — laced with frustration and desire — left his mouth. 

“Sarah,” he said again, hips shifting up. 

He was going to die. She was going to kill him if he didn’t get some relief. 

Looking past his hard, weeping member, she found him flushed and sweaty, mouth contorted into a sort of pleasured grimace as he held on for her. 

A pang of guilt twisted her stomach before she reminded herself he wanted this. 

Still, she decided, it had been enough. 

She was moving. Thank god, she was moving. Her stomach brushed against his cock as she crawled over him, and he breathed a deep sigh. It wasn’t as good as her mouth or her core, but at this point, anything touching, anything garnering even a little bit of relief was better than nothing. 

Her mouth dipped to his neck, and he whimpered, gripping the silk ties to keep himself from rutting against her. He’d made that mistake earlier in the night, and it had resulted in a sharp admonition, a disappointed look, and caused her to not put her mouth on him again until he’d made her come another time. 

The memory of it made him tremble. “Sarah, please.”

She pulled away, looking into his face as she swept his sweaty hair back. “Please what?” she asked innocently. 

“Can I come? Please?” 

A soft smile spread over her lips, and hope ignited inside him. 

It wavered when she paused, a thoughtful look on her face. 

“I don’t know,” she said, finally. 

He didn’t know how much longer he could possibly last. 

When he’d asked her for this, he hadn’t expected…well he wasn’t totally sure what he’d expected. He certainly hadn’t expected her to slide into the part so easily. Sarah could be sassy, but it wasn’t her usual way of being. He couldn’t deny that seeing her this way brought out a heavy, thick desire in him he’d never experienced. 

He’d never been edged before, never dominated like this, but he’d thought about it so often in their many weeks apart that summer. This fantasy of her in charge made its way into the regular rotation when he was missing her. When he finally moved back and she finally moved in, he asked her for it, the prospect that it could become a reality too consuming to resist.

Now that it was really happening, he had no idea where all his restraint was coming from. He supposed all the conditioning for hockey probably played a role. 

“Do you think you deserve it?” 

He nodded fervently. 

“Tell me.” 

“I’ve been good,” he said, voice even more husky. 

“You have been very good,” she consented but didn’t do or say anything else. 

He would have to plead his case. “I made you come so many times.”

“How many?” she asked, mouth dangerously close to his ear. 

The lustful haze surrounding his brain made it hard for him to think. He couldn’t forget how close her skin was to his, how hot her breath felt on his cheek. 

“How many, Quinn?” she repeated as her tongue trailed from the bottom of his ear to the bottom of his neck. A streak of fire whipped down his spine. 

The first time had been on his cock right at the beginning of the night. She’d tied his wrists to the bed, one near each corner, with two swaths of silk she seemed to produce out of thin air. She then climbed on top of him, lubed him up and sunk onto him without any kind of preamble. 

He had thought watching her ride him without being able to touch her — forced to watch her slip and circle her own fingers over her clit — while holding himself back as she fluttered around him, squeezing him within an inch of his life, was torture. 

It turned out he had no idea what was to come. 

A short while after that was the rutting incident. He’d almost shot off, slicking himself through her soft, smooth center as she kissed his neck torturously slow. The pleasured noise that left his throat couldn’t be stopped, and she’d darted away with a rebuke before he could actually come.

As his penance, she’d untied his right hand so he could get her off as she knelt next to him, knees spread wide so he could see her glistening core take his fingers so well. Watching her come undone, head thrown back, one arm behind to hold herself up while the other hand massaged her own nipples, he swore he could have come right along with her without her even touching him. 

His train of thought was interrupted as the palm of her hand slipped over the front of his hip, trailing a soft touch by the base of his shaft. His whole body twitched.

“How many?” she repeated.

Pride washed over him, remembering the way he had brought her to climax before she tied his hand down again. He’d begged to clean his fingers, desperate to taste her. Instead, she’d hovered over him so he could drink her nectar straight from the source. He’d thrust his tongue into her and felt like he might just waste away if he didn’t get his dick in her soon. 

How long ago had that been? It felt like hours. 

“Three,” he gasped. 

Sarah could practically see his thoughts as the fascinated, hungry expression he wore when he watched her come ghosted over Quinn’s beautiful face.

“You’re sure?” 

He nodded fervently. There had been at least three. He forced his mind into coherent memory, trying to decipher if he’d fantasized one of them. 

“I could have sworn it was four.” 

“You would know better,” he conceded quickly. Maybe he’d missed one, too concentrated on not coming himself. 

She hummed, looking him over as she trailed a hand up his chest. His skin had taken on the most beautiful pink flush in the hazy light filtering through the rain splattered windows. His chest rose and fell in steep little jerks. He really was rock hard, pre-come dripping and dribbling onto his pelvis, sweaty and slick. 

Despite being tied down for so long, he still resisted the restraints, pulling the silk taut before fatigue would set into his arms, and he had to rest for a moment. It was as if he couldn’t help himself. Like the desire to touch her was just too strong. As he went through this routine again, dropping back to the mattress panting, she decided it had been long enough. 

“You’re such a good boy, Quinn.” 

She’d never imagined those words coming out of her mouth, but when he told her he liked it as they started talking about this whole edging idea, she’d found them easier and easier to say. Especially after seeing the pride and pleasure that took over his face each time they left her lips. 

He whined and nodded his agreement. 

“I think you’ve earned some relief,” she said. 

Thank god. His chest caved in a deep sigh. Oh, thank God.

“Do you want my mouth?” 

He nodded. 

“Or my pussy?” 

He nodded again, biting his lip as if the very idea of having her wrapped around him was bringing him too close to the edge. 

“You can’t come in both.”

He’d been hard so long, it felt like he might just stiffen right back up so he could. If only. 

On second thought, that might actually kill him.

“M-mouth first,” he finally managed to say, “but I want to come inside you.”

“Okay,” she agreed, “Okay.” 

She shifted back to kneel between his legs, and he ventured to ask, “will you untie me?” 

“Not yet,” she said before fastening her hot mouth to him. 

She sucked the pre-come off his shaft, her tongue flat against him in long, slow strokes, savoring the taste. 

A groan rang through the room, loud, earnest, and laced with relief and gratitude. 

When she took him deep and his hips jumped, she didn’t even admonish him. He’d earned a little bad behavior. He’d been so patient. 

She worked back to his tip, suction and tongue so intense it felt like she might just suck the very life out of him.

His eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering when she pulled off him with an audible pop. Restraint he didn’t know he had somehow held him back from coming.

She straddled him. He felt beyond grateful. Beyond turned on. Beyond anything he’d ever felt in his life. He felt like his skin might just melt off, it was so hot. 

Forcing his eyes to stay open, he watched her lower herself onto him, watched himself disappear into her tight heat, watched her mouth fall open in a silent scream. 

He was already pulsing. Or maybe that was her. It was hard to tell whose body was whose when they were fused together this way. 

She leaned forward to work the tie on his left wrist undone. 

Taking advantage of her position, he sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, relishing the shiver that ran through her, right to her core. If he got enough pleasure flowing through her veins, she would come faster, and he wouldn’t have to hold on as long. 

She sat back up, shifting him a little deeper.

His eyes rolled back. “Sarah, please —” 

“Just one more time,” she whispered. “As soon as I come, you can.”  

Sarah was already so sensitive. Too sensitive, really, to be taking him again. She hadn’t planned on coming four times. She hadn’t really planned on anything other than teasing him, but it became obvious how much he enjoyed watching her come as he held himself back. So she’d come. Once on his cock, and twice on his fingers. She’d planned to be done then, thinking she’d suck him off as a finale, but the way he’d fought to get his fingers to his mouth, begging to taste her, made desire ripple to life in her once more. 

Taking advantage of his prone state to fulfill a fantasy of her own, she lowered her center to his mouth. As his tongue thrust into her, the bridge of his lovely nose had pressed against her clit, bringing her to a climax that was beyond anything she’d experienced. 

Now that his length was inside her again, rigid and twitching, electricity shivered through her, walking a thin line between pleasure and pain. 

“Quinn,” she breathed. 

He moaned. 

“Quinn, you need to be really gentle.”

His head jerked in a nod. “What do you want?” he rasped. 

God, his voice lit her on fire. How could this much desire be coursing through her again? “Make me come, Quinn.” 

“Fuck,” he breathed reverently.

She’d only untied his left hand. He was glad to have it below his head, but it felt like a useless tool. He fumbled, trying to make the non-dominant, blood starved fingers work the way he wanted them to. Winding to the apex of her thighs. He ghosted his thumb over her, barely touching. 

“Oh,” she moaned. 

Once he found the right spot, on the sensitive underside of her clit, he rested the pad of his thumb there, providing direct, gentle pressure she could move against. Her eyes rolled back and she flexed around him. He devoured the pleasure that rolled across her face. 

Just a little while longer, he told himself. Just a few more seconds. Then, a few more after that.

“Fuck me, that feels so good, Quinn.” 

God, he wanted to be the only one who got to fuck her for the rest of his life. 

It didn’t take long. She was so sensitive and so turned on from the whole night that it felt like he just needed to flip a switch, and she was coming undone again. The look he was giving her: loving, lustful, and proud was the final catalyst, sending her careening over the edge.

As soon as she constricted around him twice, he was gone. Done for. 

Shouting his pleasure, he came harder than he ever had in his life. His whole body tensed, hips thrust up, desperate to get more of himself inside her. 

“Quinn,” she moaned. “Oh, yes.” 

She collapsed on top of him.

Feeling the release of his orgasm unknot his muscles, he tried to catch his breath. It was a good thing he didn’t have practice the next day. He would need time to recover from this. 

A while later (time had lost its importance) she pushed herself up, hands on either side of his shoulders. 

He whined but didn’t try to stop her as she lifted her hips. 

They both hissed at the loss. 

Before slipping off the bed to clean up, she leaned over and undid the other tie. Smoothing her thumb over the soft inside of his wrist, she murmured, “you did so good. You were so good to me, Quinn.” 

He made a pleased little noise. 

She slipped off the bed, going to the bathroom and cleaning herself up before coming back to him with a glass of water. By that time, he’d recovered enough to sit up against the headboard.

“Do you want to take a shower?” she asked.

How could she think about something so mundane? He was busy trying to relive the entire evening. He gulped the water and thought about her noises, the way she felt. 

Remembering it made him twitch with desire. It wasn’t too surprising when it hurt a bit.

Once he took a deep breath and let it out again, mirroring the same thing he did after winding down from a game, Sarah knew he was ready to talk. 

“Do you want to shower?” she repeated. 

He should, but his legs felt like lead. Screwing up his determination, he gulped the last of the water before nodding. 

“Did I do okay?” she asked as he slipped to the edge of the bed, his hand trailing over one of the silk ties. 

His eyes darted to hers, worried she somehow thought different. “You were perfect.” 

And she had been. Bossy and assertive, but her same loving tenderness was still there, under all that. She was still Sarah, she’d just put on a costume for the night.

Once the water was warmed up, she pulled him into the shower with her.

He let her soap him up, loving her gentle caresses with her loofah. She was even using her vanilla soap, and the smell surrounded them, replacing the sweaty, musky smell of sex with the lighter, sweeter fragrance he associated so much with her. 

When she moved on to washing his hair, he practically moaned as his fatigued legs shook. “You’re going to put me to sleep,” he murmured. 

Sarah giggled and continued scratching her nails over his scalp. 

He rinsed off and took over the loofah to soap her up, carefully memorizing the contours of her body. 

Finally out of the shower, they did the after shower things, and Quinn helped Sarah replace the sheets. 

Settling back into the soft bed, Sarah asked, “Do you feel okay?” 

“Never better,” he said, a dopey little smile taking over his face.

She pressed a kiss to his forehead, pulled the blankets up, and brought him against her for a well-deserved night of rest. 

Want more Quinn and Sarah? Check out the Sanpshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Lemon-aide

Daryl Dixon x reader

My entry for @ghostboneswrites2's summer challenge! I chose Lemonade as the prompt.

Fluff, slice of life.

🍋 Go join!! The deadline is August 31st 🍋

The summer heat was relentless.

All around the communities were kiddie pools set up, paradols of all sides stood in front yards to create more shade for everyone.

During the day all the children lived out of the pools. Parents stayed on their porch to watch and for a moment the outside world was forgotten.

"Hey girlie, come and bring me some of that good stuff!" One of the young adult residents found it unfair you were watching Grace and Judith at the side of the inflatable pool and bringing them cool lemonade from the fresh fruits in the garden.

"This is for the kids." You stood and pointed at the pitcher in your hands. "Go get your own fruit from the pantry." With a kind gesture of sticking out your tongue you put the pitcher back in the shade of the umbrella you had on the ground next to the pool.

"Auntie, why won't you share?" Grace questioned as she sipped from her cup of lemonade.

"Yeah, it's so warm. Sharing is good!" Judith happily added in her matter of fact tone.

Being stared down by the two little girls had you at a loss for answers. They were way too smart and sassy for their own good.

Right at that moment Daryl came padding over, bare feet, loose jeans and a sleeveless top was his look for the day and if you weren't already melting from the sun, you would be from how good Daryl looked. "Oh, but I'll share." You took a cup and poured it full of lemonade before setting the pitcher back down and heading over to Daryl. "Hey Pookie, want some lemonade?" With the sweetest smile and a little shimmy you offered him the drink which he accepted with a great thanks. "Hmhm, tha's mighty sweet. Both yer offer and the drink, thanks sweetheart."

From the pool, Judith loudly welcomed Daryl back, to which he raised his cup and smiled at her. He followed along as you strode back to sit with the girls again under the shade of the large parasol that covered half of the pool. "You girls got it good, huh. A whole pool to yourselves." Daryl joined you on the ground and immediately got splashed with water.

Judith and Grace were all giggles and smiles as they had the time of their lives, all while you and Daryl shared drinks and glances.

The fun went on until the sun started setting and Aaron and Michonne came to get their daughters for bed

When the two adults returned there was a small campfire going across the street, casting a nice glow over the now dark area.

Daryl had excused himself for a moment as well, and you had almost forgotten the reason if you hadn't looked up at the night sky and saw the moon hang high and full among the stars set in darkness.

By now you were laying down on your back, stargazing in the grass with all the sun screens now closed again. It was so peaceful you hadn't even noticed Daryl coming back until he flopped down next to you, panting like crazy.

"Oh, you poor guy.." you sat up and ruffled his fur. "All that fluff must be torture for you now."

Daryl gave you a theatrical whine in return. "Yeahh.. so bad." While you were busy feeling bad for him he had his jaws around the cup at your side and threw his head back to down the sweet lemonade.

"Hey! That was mine, you ass." You frowned as you snatched the cup from his mouth. "If you're so hot go take a dip in the river." You wiped the drool of the cup with the bottom of your shirt and moved to fill it again.

Your back was turned for only a second when a large splash of water hit you. You were drenched in a second.

"Oh you little..." Turning around to smack him you saw Daryl lay curled up in the kiddie pool, a content look on his face and lazily blowing bubbles with his nose half under water. "Happy now?"

His head rose slightly, showing you a big smile. "Hmhmm yeah."

Not long after it wasn't as nice anymore. Daryl had moved his head over the inflated pool edge and poked your cup with his nose. "Please."

You rolled your eyes at him but agreed, giving him the small cup of lemonade before he went to grab at the pitcher. "Come on. S'too hot.." Daryl gave you the biggest puppy eyes he could and easily won you over.

"Fine, you win. Gimme a second." You got up and made your way inside the house, leaving Daryl confused by your sudden departure.

Inside you went to find the biggest container for water and filled it up, having found a round plastic tub that was a perfect makeshift punch bowl. At the counter you made quick work of chopping up lemons and tossed the fruits in the water, squeezing some others out into the water as well.

Taking the thing outside was more difficult than you thought. You had almost forgotten how heavy water got in high quantities.

"Here you go, you big puppy." Right at the edge of the pool you placed the large tub of lemonade down for your furry friend. "Happy now?"

Daryl franticly nodden his head and downed half the tub in one go before coming over to leave lemon flavored kisses all over you. As you struggled to get him off of you he grabbed at your sides with his wet paws and pulled you into the pool with him.

"This is my thanks for bringing you lemonade?" You busied yourself with wiping the hair out of your face and rubbing water from your eyes while Daryl only laughed. "Wanted you too. Also nice and sweet."

You loved that ever since Daryl was allowed to walk around in his changed form he had gotten more confident about himself, but you never thought bringing him some lemonade would have been the turning point for him to admit he liked you.

You were gonna bring him a refreshing drink more often.

A/N: It's been a while since I've entered a challenge! And you know I can't resist writing my AU as long as the challenge allows for it~

[prinnamon]

breaking news! several new species of little freak just discovered insidr my mind

image description in alt text + more detailed description below the cut!

[Start ID. Several simple digital drawings of characters from Freeman's Mind-style Half-Life machinima series against a blue swirl background. The illustration is signed "Prinnamon." From top-left to bottom-right:

Barney Calhoun of Barney's Mind is depicted as a tan-skinned Black man with long black curly hair. He wears only the shirt, tie, pants, and shoes of the Black Mesa Security Force uniform. He smiles excitedly and points with his right arm at the viewer.

Adrian Shephard of Shephard's Mind is depicted as a tan-skinned man with mid-length brown hair. He wears a modified HECU uniform consisting of a dark green helmet, a black gas mask with a green visor, a light grey camo shirt with rolled-up sleeves, a black vest, black gloves and boots, and a dark green backpack. His helmet has a fruit sticker stuck on one side and a barcode sticker on the other. He sits with his hands between his legs with a calm or bored expression. The characters are cropped below the waist.

Barney and Shephard hug each other. Barney is wearing a security vest now and Shephard has his helmet off. Barney has his eyes shut tight with a big grin. Shephard looks away with a calm or bored expression.

Vincent Stark of Stark's Mind is depicted as a light-skinned Asian-American man with short black hair, a goatee, and semi-rimless rectangular glasses who looks a bit like a better-groomed Gordon Freeman. He is wearing a Mark V HEV suit. He smiles and reclines with his arm around a docile Antlion Soldier, a yellow-green insectoid alien with four legs and no visible eyes, which has one of its legs around his body.

Chell of the Chell's Mind series by CyhAnide is depicted as a brown woman with a mole on her face and another on her left hand, brown eyes, and long curly dark brown hair pulled into a low ponytail. Felix Freeman of Felix's Mind is depicted as a white man with mid-length light brown hair and a goatee and square-framed glasses. He is wearing a Mark V HEV suit. Chell carries Felix, who clings to her. Both appear shocked. Chell's mouth is agape and Felix frowns. Felix's full body is visible. Everything other than Chell's face and hands is cropped out.

Kate of Arlen's Mind is depicted as a light-skinned woman with short straight brown hair dyed blonde and partially pulled into a ponytail. She has brown eyes and her face is dotted with faint freckles. She wears square-framed glasses. She wears a Black Mesa Security Force uniform with a blue beret that has a white Black Mesa emblem instead of a helmet. She smiles and stares into space. She is magnified as though viewed through a fish-eye lens.

There are two similar but horizontally flipped drawings of Kate smiling and sitting. These doodles are so simplified that she does not have arms.

Chell, dressed in a blue and orange jester's costume and wearing white knee braces over black leggings, strikes a sassy pose. She has a speech bubble with sans-serif text that reads "Come along, sire. Let us have a giggle."

Kate lies face down on the floor with a thought bubble containing a smaller but otherwise identical drawing of her in the same pose. End ID.]

[attapullman]

Whodunit? / Two

Summary: the one where identities are revealed and mickey cannot handle

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: 18+ only! f!reader, food mentions, swearing, 80s inaccuracies, mickey is a little horny

mo's note: for those who have been waiting for the six months since the last update - here it is! we get some baby sleuths! we get some cassie! do we have any theories on our culprit??

one / two / three / whodunit? masterlist

Past

On the first Sunday of Spring in town, everyone flocked to the fresh air to enjoy the bright, cloudless day. Townfolks swapped shopping for picnics in the park. Neighbors shared lawn secrets to the soundtrack of birds chirping. It was perfection in suburbia.

Brittany Willis was having her fellow second grade girls over for a garden tea party. The table was set with her mother’s nicest tablecloth, her grandmother’s chipped porcelain tea set, and a blooming bouquet of tulips freshly cut from the front walk. All the little girls sat on the front porch in their nicest Sunday dresses and white gloves, practicing lifting their pinkies while giggling and pretending to enjoy the blandly flavored hot water Brittany’s mom had served.

Across the street in the green house with white shutters, Maddy Floyd came downstairs to grab water. An act complicated by tripping over the two little boys crouched next to the hall window, cherub faces to the glass. Enraptured. Eyes glued across the street to the spectacle of pastel and lace. Maddy was still laughing at them as she poured herself a glass from the tap.

“What’s so funny?” At seven years old, Bobby still had yet to grow into his features - all big ears and oversized glasses. He gave his sister an unimpressed look from his spot on the floor, eyes still flitting to the girls from his class across the street. Mickey hadn’t moved a muscle from where he took in the scene through his binoculars.

Already old enough to drive, Maddy gives him an equally sassy look - in on a secret he’s years from learning. “Just think it’s funny you’re spying on the girls because you like them.”

The house erupts into noise as the two boys shout, “We’re not spying!” and, “We don’t like them!” in unison. Lucy, Bobby’s middle sister, yells down the stairs to keep it down.

“Mickey, you have binoculars. You telling me you’re bird watching?” The kid’s cheeks heat and he subtly shoves the spy equipment behind his back. 

Bobby’s bottom lip scrunches as he squares up to his sister. “Girls are gross. We’re just…bored.” His sister raises her eyebrow in disbelief. “Mom said we can’t play outside until we clean the playroom. Had to get creative.”

Maddy almost felt tender watching her baby brother discover the fairer sex. As she brushed by him on her way back up the stairs, Maddy placed a hand on his tiny bony shoulder and held eye contact with both of the boys who continually caused mischief. “One day you won’t think girls are gross. And when that day comes, you won’t be prepared.”

Once his sister was securely upstairs, Bobby turned to his best friend with a sisters are the worst grumble. The sounds of the little girls across the street carried over, the tinkle of porcelain and giggles. The knobby kneed kid blew out his bottom lip.

“She’s wrong, girls are always gonna be gross.” He held out his littlest finger. “Pinky promise we can’t change our minds?”

The two boys linked pinkies and spit on the floor in unison before returning back to their reconnaissance mission: Finding out where Brittany hid their baseball yesterday.

Present

The dinner shift is starting when the investigating trio push through the heavy glass door. Meatloaf crumbled onto chipped plates. The prime rib always too rare or completely overcooked. Blondie still playing on the juke just like it had hours ago.

The guys can’t figure out why they’re at the diner. With their frequent trips to the checkerboard square haven to visit Mickey’s crush, surely they’d know if someone named Cassie was here. Hell, the town was small enough that they’d know if there was a Cassie within spitting distance. Instead there was the same ten elderly men who were here every night for their sodium-drenched dinner, and a handful of families enjoying Chef Jerry’s Sunday Special. 

Not that either sleuth would voice it, but was being a police captain’s daughter enough credentials for you to be leading the group?

You slide into a sticky vinyl-bound booth and grab a menu, vaguely gesturing for your high school buds to join you. Your eyes scan the faded laminated paper without registering. The menu hasn’t changed since your grandfather was a deputy. And you only ever get fries and a shake.

While the guys begin volleying back and forth about whether it’s too late for a Coke, you turn to watch the other patrons. You’ve known this town your whole life, not a face in this greasy spoon a stranger to you. You know their habits, their families, their marital problems. This town has no secrets, and yet it evades you who could be so villainous as to steal money from the town. And right under your nose?

You hear your name drift over the crowd and see your friend, waving enthusiastically in your direction. Giving her a big grin, you beckon her over to your booth. The sleuths follow your gaze, curious, before Mickey turns the color of the cherry red vinyl behind his head.

“Cassie!” Jumping from the booth, you hug your new friend tightly, her slick ponytail swishing against your cheek. She greets you with the same gusto, pressing her grease-scented wrinkled uniform against your quarter-zip, apologizing for the stench.

Pulling back, she notices the two men watching the interaction, befuddled. She tilts her chin their way, tanned skin catching the light. “You know my regulars?”

“You know Danielle?” Mickey’s voice is drenched in disbelief, his eyebrows deep in his hairline as his hands shoot out across the table. Bob, best friend and wingman, grabs his shoulder to remind him they’re still in public - although his own head is reeling in this discovery.

They’ve been in this diner every day for weeks, sucking down malts, all so Mickey could work his charms on Danielle. An absolute betty - hair so shiny it reflects light, smile so sultry it kept the sleuth in a constant state of crushing. The name Danielle escaped Mickey’s lips so often they echoed around their apartment. 

So why were you calling her Cassie?

You wrap an arm around Cassie’s waist, giggling as you realize the situation at hand. And impressed that the stupid name tag trick of hers had actually worked. 

“Cass, you can let them in on the secret. I’ve known them forever, the most evil thing they’ve ever done is get a parking ticket.”

Under your teasing giggles, Bob mutters under his breath, “It was an accident, stupid loading zone.”

The glossy-haired waitress turns to the investigators and gives them a smirk. “Well, if she says you two are trustworthy…” She gives a wink that makes Mickey stiffen in his Levi’s. “I got sick of creeps at my last job cat calling my name. So now I’m Danielle.”

Despite their decades of sleuthing and hours of free time spent in the diner, even our hometown sleuths couldn’t have deducted that one.

The waitress and captain’s daughter finally plop into the booth, smiles abundant. One glance over at the table of young’ins and one would hardly believe there was a worry on their pretty little brows. That they were here to share malts and shakes before heading for a night out. No six-figure bank heist investigations going on over here.

You twist in your seat to look Cassie in the eye.

“We’re hoping you can help us.” She gives a shrug, a sure, what do you need? “You heard about what happened at First Local?”

To this she gives her head a shake, ponytail swishing through the air. She’s working a double and it’s been nearly dead until now. Biggest news is that the jukebox will only play Jackson Five.

You start to fill her in when Mickey cuts you off. This is his moment to impress Dani…Cassie. He launches into the logistics - the open vault, the missing money, and that you’re wrapped up in the middle. His smile can barely be contained in her presence. It’s the longest he’s held her attention since he recounted winning the third grade spelling bee. He’s basking in her focus, leaning on his elbows to be that much closer to her.

When he’s finally done, you shoot him an unimpressed look. “Yes, thank you, Mickey…Uh, anyway, we need to talk to Jake Seresin-” She cuts you off.

“I am not talking to him. He’s a tool.”

The boys snicker, approving of the waitress even more for hating their high school bully. 

While you can’t fault her for pointing out the truth, you need some leverage if you’re getting in with the security guard. And you aren’t a complete idiot when it comes to the way his eyes follow her around when she drops by with a burger for you during the lunch rush. 

“We can all collectively agree he’s…with fault, but he knows all the logistics of the bank. And there’s a secret door that only he knows about. We need to know what he knows.”

She cocks her head to the side, ponytail arcing through the air. The men are powerless to watching it float softly in the air. “And what makes you so sure that he is going to tell me what he knows? Isn’t the point of being a security guard that he keeps things, ya know, secure?”

You were banking on him being a sucker for tits, but she has a point.

You worry your lip between your teeth as you try to think of more leverage to convince her. Bob quirks a smirk - it’s been over a decade since he saw you do that before coming up with the winning idea at the science fair. Just like he trusted your prowess then, he knows you can motivate your friend to help. But it’s again Mickey who shamelessly jumps in for Cassie’s attention.

“I’d tell you my bank account PIN for a smile from you. Throw in a wink and Seresin will probably tell you how to break into the bank yourself.”

She gives him a hard look before exploding in laughter, her face warm and glowing under the florescent light. “Oh, Fanboy, you are smooth as ever.” She pauses, rolling a salt shaker between her palms. “Alright, I’ll at least try to talk to him. But if it blows up you all owe me double tips.”

Your fingers tingle as you feel the investigation finally take a positive turn.

From the back, Chef Jerry calls out for ‘Danielle’ and your friend gets up to leave, brushing the wrinkles out of her apron over her baby pink uniform. She promises to meet you in the morning at the diner before the bank opens. Then the interrogation begins.

Not ordering anything, your group heads toward the door to get some sleep after a long day. Just as the slick-haired waitress is about to disappear into the kitchen, Bob calls the name on her name tag. She raises her perfectly plucked eyebrows in interest.

His cheeks are pink. “Not to be, uh, forward, but it’s probably in the best interest that you wear something…lower cut? If we’re trying to honeypot the information out of him? Yeah?” He looks to you and Mickey for backup. Mickey tentatively nodding. You have the same face as when you found out gangly, bespectacled Bob Floyd lost his virginity junior year.The man has big ol’ balls when he needs them.

But the waitress laughs and agrees, shimmying her cleavage a little and cackling harder when Mickey turns scarlet. These boys are too easy. 

You usher them out of the diner before they can do anything else. In the parking lot, you make them promise like good kids to meet you at the diner and be ready for a long day of investigating. When you finally turn on your heel and start the walk home to your fretful mother and exasperated father, Mickey lets out a sigh of relief.

“That girl needs to take a chill pill. We are professionals.”

The next morning you could feel your under eyes on the ground. You’d slept like shit, replaying the past twenty-four hours in your head over and over again. How could a day change your life so drastically?

It was a blessing that your dad was asleep when you got home and already at the station when you got up. In a world of consistencies, you could always bank on him being out the door by seven.

You slung on a band shirt that had seen better days and slipped out of the house unnoticed. You’d have to answer to some questions from your mother when you arrived home, but the last thing you needed was that right now.

The walk into town was short - the benefits of a town the size of a postage stamp - and before you finished reviewing all the evidence from the day before you realized there were two familiar figures standing outside that dusky pink apartment complex your dad said contained more meth than tenants.

“Well, well, if it ain’t the police captain’s daughter.” You elbow Mickey in the side. It’s almost weird to see them twice in twenty-four hours - practically back to being school children again. 

You look at the half-drained kidney-shaped pool behind the gate. “You two still living in this dump?” The shrugs you get in response are enough to remind you there’s a reason you’re an assistant bank manager and not a sleuth. The paycheck.

As if planned and not a coincidence, the sleuths take up stride beside you and join your journey toward the diner. And you’re glad for the company, as Bob listing all the horror-inducing things about that pink apartment building keeps your spirits up.

It’s well before the bank opens, but when you pass the town square there’s a small group gathered - shouting and bullhorns blaring for so early on a Monday morning.

Even though your timing is pressing to meet Cassie, you can’t help but detour. Squeezing between fellow town residents and shooting your best police captain’s daughter smile, it’s not hard to get to the front of the crowd and see what’s causing all the fuss. But considering the movie theater renovation was now indefinitely on hold, you shouldn’t have been surprised.

Ever since the renovation had been announced at a city council meeting, all the crazies had come out of the woodwork. Historians with their own opinions and businesses with their own agendas. But the loudest out of all the chatter had been the relentless public discourse between Amy Albert (CEO of Albert Electronics, supporting half the jobs in town) and Hazel Groveman (local historian and environmentalist). 

You’d seen the posters and mail inserts for months. Albert wanting nothing more than to put up a giant cineplex that would bring in more jobs, more visitors, more money. And Groveman preaching nothing but the importance of preserving history. There was a rumour that Thomas Edison himself had seen a flick or two back when it was just a measly nickelodeon.

You know that rumor is bullshit and your great granddad made it up during a drunken night at the station, but Hazel Groveman isn’t privy to your Thanksgiving conversations.

Up on the erected stage, the two women stand ferociously, already shouting at each other before anyone’s morning coffee sets in. Groveman pushes her greying bush of hair from her face as she accuses Albert of petty crimes. Everyone knows Albert Electronics was mad the restoration was chosen over the cineplex. Her competition yells through glossed lips that Groveman massively underestimated the cost of the restoration and the money isn’t gone, the city simply couldn’t face the embarrassment of needing more money. It’s ugly, the way they go for each others throats verbally.

Beside you, both Bob and Mickey are fidgeting, wishing they had ditched you to head to the diner instead of watching this blood bath.

Tearing your eyes from the public fight, you notice Vaughn Carmichael standing off to the side. This definitely isn’t his office and surely he has better things to do on a work day. But he observes the two women with mild interest and a sleazy smile, making your skin crawl at whatever perverted pleasure he’s getting from watching. What a creep.

You shoot his assistant Natasha a smile - what an angel to keep that job - before realizing you’re definitely running late. The two women are still out for blood as they fight over what should happen now that the city can’t fund the restoration. Your stomach turns and you grab the men by their jackets to leave. 

This is why you’re up before noon on your day off. You’re going to find that money. 

When your friend’s shiny hair and wide smile are in view, that feeling of hope returns. You’re going to get Jake Seresin to talk. You’re going to figure this out. You’re going to find that money and save the town and your job and finally buy that Kinks album.

And it all comes down to the one-size-too-small v-neck that Cassie picked out especially for today.

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[fishhateme]

maxiel(ish) drabble pt 3

part two if you're confused

 So, er, Duolingo. He'd clicked on the notification, ready to get fille and enfants mixed up again, but his finger must have slipped or something. It didn't matter, really, except it really did fucking matter, because now he'd opened his chat with Christian Horner, sighing so loudly Sassy was going to jump down from atop the bookshelf and scratch him just to get him to shut up. "Hey, Dan! The team and I were thinking Vegas would be a wonderful opportunity to announce you as team ambassador, maybe film some PR. You know how the US fans can get, it'd be good for all of us, as a family. The door's always open, if you'd like" Daniel buried his head in his hands, throwing his phone with a flick of his wrist that made pain bloom underneath his hand, his muscles stiff for a hot second, his faded scar over the spot where he'd gotten the surgery a painful reminder of another one of his failures. When he was done with his tiny tantrum, Daniel picked up the phone again, typing and deleting, then typing again, his usually steady fingers now quite shaky. They'd been doing that, lately. "ill think about it, sure" Big, fat chance, da- I mean, Christian.

Eventually, Max came back from his shower, dirty blonde hair dripping droplets of water on the wooden floor as he walked into the living room, a content smile on his face. He stopped by the bookshelf Sassy was perched on, getting on his tippy toes to rub her belly, earning a contented purr as Daniel narrowed his eyes. Spoiled brat.

It didn't matter, though, because soon Max turned to the couch, huddling up with Daniel, pressing a kiss to the base of his neck, where the last remnants of his curls blended into his back hair. Daniel tried hard not to think about how fluffy and perfect his hair was a few years back, closing his eyes as he felt Max hum against his skin. "What are you watching, schat?" Daniel shrugged, half hearted, looking down at his bitten, ugly cuticles. "Uh, I dunno... Love Island? I think it's Love Isl- wait, no, this says it's Love is Blind. Ugh, I hate that, why have I been watching that for the last hour?" He complained, voice whiny in a way he really didn't allow it to be unless he was alone with Max, because he usually didn't want to seem childish, even if he was feeling as helpless as a child, his feelings coming in waves. Max chuckled, pressing another chaste kiss to his skin. "Daniel" He muttered, his skin a little cooler to the touch from the shower as he pressed his cheek to the base of Daniel's neck, settling into the crook of his neck, searching to be closer, closer, closer. Daniel sighed, looking up at the ceiling without blinking, consciously ignoring the way his eyesight was getting a little blurry at the edges. He'd had this very particular move ever since he'd first moved to Italy at 17, chewing on his bottom lip so it wouldn't visibly tremble, which he thought was pretty neat and discreet. Still, it did nothing to hide the humiliatingly vulnerable crack in his voice, slightly raspy "Max" Max merely sighed, holding him a little bit closer, his arms so much stronger than when they'd first started dating, filling out his grey shirt nicely, so much nicer than Daniel. But none of that mattered now, not really, because Max pressed another kiss to the base of his neck, humming softly. "Daniel, you know what I thought of in the shower? If you come with me to Vegas, we could get married by an Elvis. Jimmy and Sassy would be the ring bearers, of course" Daniel let out a laugh at that, a loud, unattractive cackle that startled even him as it left his chest, forcing a smile out of him as the first tears fell. He couldn't help but roll his eyes, fixing his gaze ahead, on the practically empty bookshelf where Sassy was still lounging. "Shut up, Max"

thanks for reading everybody, party's over now, ill just go to the corner to cry about the singapore gp if anyone needs me

[denv2]

Felix the Cat characters! (recent comics focus)

Felix, Kitty, Inky, Winky, Xilef, and even Alex, who isn't in the comic, lol.

I had a lot of fun drawing them! I love cartoon déforme.

It has a lot of my favorite feelings... I don't know if you can feel it ^~^

Below is a chat about each drawing!

Felix, Xilef, and Alex have legs that look a little too long... When I drew the leg bending pose, I drew it so that it stretched out coolly, so it looks longer ㅋㅋ

The facial expressions are all customized to my taste! Did I mention I love the half-moon eyes? It's literally my taste 😋

I actually like Kitty's cat lady-style eyes with the slightly lowered eyelids that make her look a bit sassy, but I also like her normal wide-eyed default eyes that give her a sweet expression! I also like to draw a sweet Kitty, so this time I focused more on the adorable side of her.

I drew Xilef because I wanted to draw both the hooded version and the unmasked version! Honestly, it would be a shame to only draw the hood, right?

I'm actually not a huge fan of Xilef (although I do have a moderate crush on him for being a Felix franchise character), but I think I figured out some of the differences between him and Alex while drawing him this time. They're definitely different characters, even if they have similarities! There are similarities in their speech patterns and attitudes, but Xilef is different in that he's a multiverse parallel to Felix, and Alex is a bit different in that he's a contrasting doppelganger role of Felix... I know I'm stating the obvious. But I can really feel the difference in those features.

There is also a little something to be said about the poses of the three characters.

I drew Felix first, then Xilef, and finally Alex, so the poses for Xilef and Alex were based on Felix. They all have one leg bent, which is a common pose!

However, the difference is that xilef's contrast with Felix is left to right, and Alex's is up and down! Then there's the difference in their symbol items! Felix's open magic bag and Alex's closed unknown magic bag. Xilef is holding a magic cane!

I also wanted to make sure there was a difference between Felix the black cat and the two white cats in contrast. xilef definitely captures a lot of the feel of how I draw Felix, because he's the multiverse villain Felix! So his face is very similar to the Felix I drew this time, with a definite half-moon eye.

Alex doesn't look like that. In fact, I tried to draw a sharp eye with no eyelid expression on top of it, but it didn't feel like what I wanted. The Alex in me was more of a round eye with the eyelid kind of drooping down, so the eyelid expression went in!

And then there's something about the mouth! Felix's cool smile is contrasted by Xilef's mouth, which is more of a grimace than a smile. And Alex has the same smirk, but with a funny gap-toothed grin.

I said the direction of the pose at the beginning, so I'll move on! Personally, I wanted them both to contrast with Felix in different ways lol.

As a side note, I put 3 figures in a row this time and I like how xilef is pointing cane towards Felix because it's exquisite!

Actually, if I put Alex on top of Felix, it would show the top to bottom ratio of Felix and Alex, but I think Felix should be the first one 😚

I think I've said all I need to say, but I'd be remiss if I didn't mention Inky Winky. I actually didn't distinguish between the two, I just drew them together and thought about who I was going to choose right before I put the initials on the hat at the end!

But then I realized that Winky has a bit more of a goofy vibe to him? And Winky is Red... Is there a rule that Red is more of a troublemaker?

But actually, it's not really a one-sided relationship, it's a two-way street, so they don't really fall under that rule lol. They're cute little guys, and I've enjoyed watching episodes of their classic black and white cartoons!

Okay, that's really all I have to say, I can't think of anything else lol.

I'm going to draw a comic with the three of them later, Felix, Xilef and Alex, so maybe there'll be more of them. I'm kinda obsessed with these three similar cats haha

[kate-the1975]

Under The Mistletoe 💋// dad!matty x Reader

Twelve days of Christmas - Day 3 ✨️

A/N : Finally doing a Christmas prompt 😭😭. Thank you to the incredible @abiiors for the effort you've put in creating these prompt ideas xx. (BTW, this is a part of the dad!matty universe, which I need to make a masterlist for)

C/W : none!!

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

*Rosie is about a year old in this*

"Just a little bit more to the left please, baby." I tried to direct Matty as he tried his best to perfectly align our stockings along the staircase.

I could hear the light sigh leave his lips and could picture the rolling of his eyes as his arms began to get tired from holding them up for so long.

Rosie, who was sat on my hip, copied her dad's dramatic sigh. Making me roll my own eyes jokingly.

"See what you've done! She's going to be as sassy as you if you aren't careful." I warned him, giving his butt a cheeky slap, making him flip up his middle finger in reply.

"Watch it." I mumbled, lingering beside him as he finally hung Rosie's stocking in the perfect spot beside his own one and mine.

"Ah Ha! Look at that. Perfection!" Matty stumbled down off the small ladder, standing back to admire his work and placing a kiss on top of Rosie's head.

"It's perfect. Thank you, my love." I smiled, leaning towards him so I could place a kiss on his lips.

"Dada" Rosie cooed in awe at Matty. Her pacifier falling out of her mouth and onto the floor, arms wide open for him to take her into his warm embrace.

"Oh, that is my favourite sound in the world! 'Ello, my darlin" Matty was quick to take her out of my arms when I passed her over, rocking her from side to side as her small hands cupped the side of his face.

"Dada! Dada!" She repeated excitedly, slapping her hands against his face.

"Ah! Don't slap, please. Gentle hands" I laughed, rubbing her back softly, her hands returning back to my face.

"You are just the best girl, aren't you! Oh, love, can you go get the camera from upstairs? I want to take pictures of you and Rosie." Matty asked sweetly. His shaking hands that held Rosie close to him catching my eyes immediately.

"Yeah, sure. But, are you alright? Your hands are shaking." I removed Rosie's hands from my face, concern washing over me.

"Huh? I'm fine! Guess it's just the adrenaline of Christmas, I suppose." He shrugged, letting out a chuckle that could only be described as nervous laughter.

"Ehhh, okay. If you say so."

I quickly turned and made my way up the stairs to get the camera from our bedroom.

I could feel Matty's eyes follow my every move until I was out of sight, making me feel slightly nervous.

All I could hear from upstairs was the noises of Rosie fussing and low mumbles coming from Matty as he tried to shush her. The two of them still clearly hanging by the stairs.

The sudden silence in the house didn't go unnoticed to me. Silence in our house was always a complete rarity, but it's especially rare now that we have a one year old.

"Matty! Is everything alright down there!?" I called down to him while rummaging through the top drawer of his bedside table for the camera.

No reply.

"Matty!? Sweetheart!? Is Rosie okay!?" I called louder this time, hoping he'd catch me calling Rosie's name and assume I was asking after her.

But the only thing I got was a loud and guttural screech from Rosie, which was an answer I suppose.

"Ah! Gotcha." I spoke to myself as I came across the retro camera.

"Took me a minute, but I found it." I announced while jogging down the stairs.

I stopped at the bottom step, confused as to where my two loves had gone, but the baby babbling noises coming from the living room reassured me they hadn't suddenly left the house.

"What are you two doing?....oh!" I spoke in surprise, looking at Rosie scooting on her bum across the floor, wearing a Christmas jumper she wasn't wearing when I'd left the room.

"Look at you, my gorgeous girl! Did Daddy put a Christmas jumper on you, huh?" I sat down immediately on the floor right in front of her, my hand gently caressing the top of her head while I stared at her in admiration.

Her big brown eyes looked up into mine, a wide smile showing her two bottom front teeth that were coming in.

I couldn't help but laugh at her gummy smile. Her smile, her eyes, her little rambles and her baby giggles totally intoxicating.

She had me and Matty wrapped around her little finger since day one. She was our special gift all year round.

"Now, should we go see where your daddy has gone off to?" I huffed as I got up off the floor, lifting her up with me and my eyes noticing the words on her jumper.

"Dada! Dada!" She screeched, pointing over my shoulder, but my eyes were fixed on her jumper. Trying to keep her as still as I possibly could so I could put the words together.

"Mummy, will you marry my daddy?" It read.

Oh....OH!

Without turning around, my brain filled with zero thoughts and words unable to leave my mouth, I put Rosie in her little play chair. Quickly strapping her in and planting a kiss on her rosy chubby cheek.

"Matty. If I turn around and you're behind me on one knee I swear to god I'll go feral." I warned, my voice quivering with emotion.

"Just turn around, darling."

So I did, slowly, not believing any of this was real, but there he was. Completely real, and human, on one knee under the mistletoe in the doorway of the double doors that led into the kitchen.

"Matty, I-"

"No, let me speak." He interrupted. Knowing I was about to go into a rant that would make zero sense in my emotional state.

I nodded yes, allowing him to go ahead and speak. My hands clasping over my mouth to shut myself up, tears already streaming down my face.

"Okay....Y/N, I've thought of multiple ways I could've done this. I could've taken you somewhere fancy on a romantic getaway, just the two of us. Or loads of lights and fireworks and candles, but I know you. All those fancy proposals aren't you. So that's why I did it here. Just me, you, and Rosie."

It was like on queue Rosie giggled, her feet kicking like crazy in her little moving seat.

"For the last six years you have given me everything. A life, a home, a beautiful baby. I know I'm not the easiest person to love, I really know that, but somehow you've managed to put up with all of my problem's and make them your own, and that to me is true love. So please, Y/N L/N, will you marry me?"

"Are you being serious? You want to marry me?" I whispered in disbelief. A part of me not being able to comprehend that someone wants to marry me.

Someone wants to be with me forever.

"Why would I joke about this. I've never been so sure of anything in my life."

Matty brought the neck of his jumper up to his face, wiping away the stray tears that streamed down his face.

The ring sat so elegantly in the opened black velvet ring box. The opal diamond, which is Rosie's birthstone, shone beautifully from a mile away.

"Matty....I....oh god." I sobbed happily into my hands. Continuously shaking my head in disbelief.

"You don't have to say yes, we can just forget about it if it isn't what you wa-"

"No! No, no, this is what I want. I want to marry you. I'd marry you tomorrow, I'd marry you next week, I'll marry you whenever. Jesus Christ, yes, yes Matty Healy I will be your wife whenever you want me to be!" I sobbed, running over to him and engulfing him in the biggest hug that I knocked him over.

The two of us crying and giggling on the floor, the ring still safely in his hand, thank god.

Matty wrapped his left arm around my waist, sitting the two of us up that I was straddling his lap.

"So....can I put the ring on you? Just to make it official?" He smiled widely. Eyes squinting and teeth showing.

"Yes. Yes. Yes." I spoke excitedly. Each yes being punctuated by a passionate kiss.

With his still shaky hands, he slipped the beautiful gold and opal ring onto my ring finger. My heart skipping a beat from a touch so soft and loving.

He brought the hand up to his lips, kissing the ring keeping his eyes on mine.

"Just the three of us future Y/N Healy."

"Just the three of us Matthew Timothy Healy."

Matty looked up above us, noticing the mistletoe that hung.

"Would you look at that. Ever thought you'd get proposed to under the mistletoe when we hung it up last night?" He smirked, his eyes watching my every move as I quickly got up to get Rosie.

"If you'd told me six years ago when I met you outside a pub in Manchester that you'd be the person I'd love for the rest of my life, I would've believed you." I smiled wholeheartedly, returning back to the floor with Rosie sitting on my lap.

"What? Really?" Matty was totally shocked by my words. Not expecting me to say that I knew he'd be the one.

"From the minute you asked me if I had a spare cigarette and I turned around to face you, there was no way I was letting go of you. Loving someone has never been easier. Falling in love with you and Rosie has been the easiest thing I've ever done in my entire life, and everyday I fall more and more in love."

"Stop it, darling. You're gonna make me cry again." Matty huffed, looking up at the ceiling to try and stop himself from crying.

"I think someone else is going to start crying if you don't give her her first kiss under the mistletoe." I chuckled, letting go of a squirming Rosie so she could go back to clinging onto her dad.

"Uh oh, we can't have little miss RoRo crying. Isn't that right, petal?" He tickled her chubby baby belly, making her roar out a laugh that had me and Matty laughing along with her.

Just the three of us. Under the mistletoe. My heart has never been so happy.

[georgiapeach30513]

31 for Peach and Andy (from the kiss prompts)

Oh!!! I love these two, and we're just going to work this drabble into the story 🤭🤭

A Little At A Time, Part 14

Summary: life with a new baby

Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader

Rating: sweet and adorable

Warnings:  language, implied sexual teasing, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.3K

Previous

Series Masterlist

Your Mamaw peeks her head into your childhood bedroom and gets the biggest smile. Watching as your little family sleeps. Locked away in this comfort bubble. The newest and smallest member of the family curled up in the sweetest little ball on her daddy’s chest. You are curled into your husband, looking so at ease despite your exhaustion, and Andy sleeps with the proudest smile painted on his face.

Mamaw slowly backs out of the door. You three can come downstairs when you wake up. Or when Andy brings the little sassy ball of sweetness on his chest down to her, so he can help you for a bit.

As soon as the door clicks, Andy begins to wake. Taking a moment to stare at his girls. It is like the pair of you were made just for him with the way you both snuggle into his warmth. So far Maggie has been showing the perfect amount of you. She adores Andy, and if she wasn’t nursing, she was in her daddy’s arms. You let him soak it up while he can. It wouldn’t be long before he was having to get back to work, and you are the one that gets to spend every second with your miracle.

Andy’s large hand starts to smooth over Maggie’s back, loving the way that she squeaks. He could listen to her sweet little sounds forever. Everything he has ever loved and ever wanted is right in his arms. He’s uncomfortable, but filled with the most overwhelming love. His discomfort is worth it to have the two of you close.

Your eyes start to flutter the more Maggie putters out her noises. Her face buries into Andy’s body, and his deep rumbling chuckle startles her a bit. Maggie puckers out her bottom lip, a pitiful cry releases out of her mouth, and you look up at her.

“Sweetheart, daddy doesn’t have what you need. My sweet Maggie Mae. I am sorry that daddy scared you. You want mommy to feed you?” Daddy. He fit into this role so well. Not just went through the motions, he wanted to be in every part of parenting with you. It was…overwhelming. In a good way, but still you feel things.

“Come on, mommy. Let’s get our baby girl her breakfast. And then daddy is going to take you to your Mamaw, and daddy is going to give mommy a bath,” his sweet eyes turn to look at you as you pull away from him to sit up. Reaching for the sweetest bundle. Cradling her, and she latches immediately. “She is a nursing champion,” Andy leans towards you, but you turn your face away, looking at that dent.

“I don’t know why Papaw insists on leaving that there. I wish he’d just repair it,” you can feel the defeat on Andy, and refuse to meet his eyes just yet. Shaking your head no when he tries to get another peck, “I have morning breath.”

“My tongue has been in your asshole.”

“Andy! The baby,” he playfully rolls his eyes, but doesn’t back down. “I don’t know why you would want to kiss my nasty mouth?”

“Gee, I don’t know. Because I watched your body not only house our daughter, but then you pushed her out of your body, while you held my hand. You did that without anything. Just held onto me. It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re never going to want to have sex with me again.”

“You’re right,” your mouth goes agape. Finally turning to meet his eyes. “I’m either going to make sweet love to you, or I’m going to fuck you like my slutty sweet girl that you are. But until your body is cleared and able to take me again you will kiss me every morning.”

“Why?” You try to hide the smile that is creeping up on you. But he always has the sweetest ways of making everything feel okay.

“Because there’s no one that I want to wake up next to more than you and our daughter. No one that has made me smile the way you have, and now you've given me another person to make me happy. And because my dear sweet wife, I love you, and your stinking ass, your cold feet, your morning breath, your legs when they’re shaved or not, your most amazing pussy, the way your eyes are filling up with tears. I love the way you love me, and care for me. I’ve never had anyone do the things you have done for me. Not because you feel like you have to, but because you want to. You love to.”

Being pregnant made you ridiculously emotional, but having Maggie is different. Having this man that you love with every part of you confess all this isn’t helping. Tears spring out of your eyes, but Andy just adjusts his stance, so he can start wiping them away.

“I have never had anything that felt like it belongs to me as much as you, and now,” he stops looking at you to watch the most perfect human in the world. There is nothing vulgar about the way he watches Maggie nurse, it’s the most pure form of love. “Now, we have this angel. I have never been so terrified in my life. I can’t stand the thought of anything bad happening to you two. I will work the hardest I ever worked to provide us with the best life, so you get to be with her all the time.”

“I’m so thankful you’re giving us that opportunity. I can’t bear the thought of not having her with me. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Then my beautiful wife,” he settles himself right up next to you, leaning into your body. “Never deny me a kiss. I don’t care if you’ve been eating the most garlicky food. I don’t care if you’ve had durian fruit. When I want a kiss, don’t you think I deserve a kiss?”

“Yes, you do, daddy.”

“Okay, then,” you don’t let him finish. With a free hand you pull him into you. Slotting your lips with his. Forgetting about all your worries and doubts because this man loved every part of you and wanted to experience every bit of life with you. Even the morning breath.

“But if it makes you feel better, Peach Bottom.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll keep mints beside the bed. But if you ever refuse to give me a kiss again, I’ll take you over my knee and spank you.”

“Don't threaten me with a good time.”

“Peaches! There is a sweet little baby,” Maggie pulls off you, looking so cute and milk drunk you don’t want her to leave your arms. “But while I wash you up, we can talk about the filthy things I’m going to do to you once your doctor tells me it’s okay.”

“Daddy?” His face softens as he watches you try to vocalize what you need. “Can we just lay here with her for a little bit longer?”

“Peaches, my darling, you don’t have to ask if you want to do spend more time with our daughter. But your ass is pretty stinky,” you shrug into his body, laying down to gaze at the most beautiful and perfect image you have ever seen. Magnolia Mae Barber is everything and more. Her daddy wasn’t so bad either. “I’m only joking. It’s Maggie’s ass that stinks now.”

“Shh, she’s a lady. Her bottom doesn’t stink. It smells like…”

“Shit. My god. Let me get her a diaper and wipes. I can’t snuggle with a poopy butt. Blech, that is awful. Maggie! Darling, you take after your mom.”

“She smells like roses,” you lie, your eyes starting to water at just how bad she smelled right now. “And…dear lord, Andy, hurry up. Maggie, sweet girl, you are rotten,” Andy in nothing but those damn sweatpants gets up to retrieve your daughter’s things, and you smile, even though the smell is horrendous. Life is good. And it was just getting started.

Next

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[butmakeitgayblog]

Starlet au first time?

It's a few weeks after their first kiss (did I mention these two moved at a glacial pace???)

But they wait and they take their time because this really isn't something either wants to just... fall into. They've spent over a year denying their feelings and pushing each other away and pretending that they're fine with just being friends, and now everything just feels so big between them. The feelings and the love that is founded in more than just attraction, and the reality of actually getting to act on it.

They go on dates, initially. And by dates I mean having dinner at Lexa's house, just the two of them. Usually Lexa cooks, because the extent of Clarke's prowess in the kitchen is reserved to slightly burnt grilled cheeses and cold salad, but Clarke finds her own ways of helping out. Making it feel more domestic. More romantic. She brings wine and flowers and kisses the chef between offers to stir things, and gets handsy during one particular pasta making lesson that leaves Lexa with palm shaped flour prints on her once-expensive slacks.

It's not that they're putting off having sex or running from it, they're just not trying to force it. They enjoy the phase of getting to be close without overthinking everything. Getting to flirt and touch and learn each other, without expectation.

It'll happen when it's supposed to happen, just like everything else between them.

Which is why when a summer heat wave storms through LA and Lexa invites Clarke over to swim in her very luxurious, very private pool, neither really thinks much of it.

Except Lexa likes the kind of bikinis that that look like too tight and too small boyshorts. The kind that ride low on her hips and show off her thighs and hug her ass like they were painted on. And the fact that it comes with this stringy little top that barely covers her small, rounded breasts just really isn't fair in Clarke's professional opinion.

Not that she has a n y room to say anything, because the halter number she chooses that barely wrangles her own cleavage, paired with bottoms that are little more than a handkerchief tied with twine leave Lexa choking on her own tongue.

But it's fine, because they're adult women who can absolutely behave themselves in the company of scantily clad leading ladies, so it's fine and also! It's fine.

And it is fine as they sun bathe and it is fine when they slip into the water and it is fine as they relax in the cool that washes over them.

It's all fine right up until Clarke gets a little too comfortable in how good it feels to just be together, laughing at some sassy remark Lexa's said that earns her a splash right to the face. A battle of splashes ensues - a war of blood must have blood in the form of water right to the eyes - which is still fine... right up until Clarke finds herself pinned to the edge of the pool.

With a very firm thigh pressed right between her legs.

And honestly Lexa doesn't quite know what she was thinking other than that she would not be ceding this battle. She hadn't started it, but she was going to finish it, and Clarke could be stubborn when it comes to admitting defeat.

But her carefully constructed battle strategy goes right out the window at the sound of Clarke's gasp. At the sight of crystal blue eyes dilating and the warm feel her center pressed tight against her thigh.

She didn't realize she'd grown so serious until she notices just how serious Clarke looks too. The way her swallow matches Lexa's swallow. The way her breathing feels heavy where she's pinned to Lexa's chest. It's not even a conscious thought when she slides her thigh forward and feels Clarke's warmth slip against her skin as Lexa rocks into her.

She'd just wanted to hear Clarke gasp like that again...

But Clarke feels so good, and her wide eyes so wonderfully blue. She bites her lip when Lexa pushes into her again, fighting a flutter of her lashes as she sways into the movement too. Lexa feels herself shaking and her heart hammering against the feeble walls of its cage, but she can't do anything other than keep pressing, keep pulling, feeling Clarke get slicker against her thigh.

She feels like she she could pass out in that moment. With Clarke so close as they share each breath and neither daring to move; to look away. They stare and shiver and work calm their shallow panting, even as Lexa feels Clarke begin to roll her hips in an answering rhythm. Her heart nearly stops when Clarke reaches for her hands and lifts them off her shoulders, only to move them to the pool's edge for better leverage and moans a breathy,

"Harder..."

And there's not much she can do but kiss Clarke like her life depends on it, because with the way her body reacts to the command, it probably does. She nearly comes when a thigh slips in and presses firmly against the mess between her own legs because out of all the ways she'd imagined having Clarke, this surprisingly was never one of them. But it feels so right to feel this desperate, to whimper needy high pitched moans with every massage of her clit. It feels right to match Clarke's rhythm and suck her tongue in time the pounding in her core, to nearly growl when a particularly good grind lets her feel Clarke shudder and clench.

It's fast race to the finish, all clutching hands and searching lips that suck in needy, watery kisses. It's bites to collarbones and finger shaped bruises across her hips until Clarke spills over her thigh in a hot rush of pleasure, with Lexa joining shortly after.

It's amazing, and surreal for how unplanned it all was, despite Clarke's panted accusation,

"I see... You lured me here to seduce me... Well played, Alexandria. Well played."

Any guffawing Lexa does in response is quickly silenced when she's crowded out of the christened pool and stripped out of her ruined bathing suit. And when she's hoisted up to wrap her legs around Clarke's hips, she knows this was how it was supposed to be. Because while she hadn't imagined the first time getting her girlfriend(!!!) off would go anything like it had, Clarke carrying her to her room while whispering softly against her lips, "Let me take you to bed, baby"....

Now that she had definitely envisioned.