#i don’t know if you were looking for fluff nonny

[satellite-evans]

Benedict Bridgerton x wife reader. Having a date day together for once, leaving their children with Bridgerton's sibling. Escaping from their clutch and just enjoying themselves. Can be fluff/suggestive. Thanks!! :))

Needed Escape

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Summary: Benedict and you needed a much deserved break :)

Word count: 2k

Warnings: fluff

A/N:

Thank you so much for the request nonnie! I do have to apologize bc it is not my greatest work lol

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains of your bedroom, casting a warm glow on the room's muted colors. Benedict stood by the window, looking out at the sprawling estate of his home. But his thoughts weren’t on the family estate, nor on the children, nor even on the upcoming events of the day. His focus was solely on you.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice gentle but filled with an underlying excitement that made your heart flutter. You could feel it too—a quiet anticipation, a rare chance to steal some time for just the two of you.

You glanced at him from where you sat, carefully lacing your boots, feeling his gaze on you. It had been so long since you had had a moment like this, away from the hustle of family life. The children, the Bridgerton clan, the endless duties—today, none of it mattered. Today was for the two of you.

“I think so,” you said with a playful grin, standing to face him. “But it’s hard to concentrate when you’re staring at me like that.”

Benedict chuckled softly, his smile always warm, always affectionate. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” he said simply, stepping closer to you, his fingers brushing against the hem of your dress. There was no need for grand gestures or fancy words. His sincerity was always enough.

You met his gaze, your heart skipping a beat. After all this time—after children, after life had thrown its challenges at you both—he still looked at you as if you were the only woman in the room. And you, of course, couldn’t imagine ever looking at anyone else.

He reached out, taking your hand in his. “Are you sure about this? A day away from everything?” he asked, his voice low and thoughtful. He knew how important your family was to you—how hard it could be to walk away from the children for even a few hours.

You squeezed his hand. “I’m sure. We both need it. Time for just us. No distractions.”

There was a brief pause before Benedict spoke again, his voice teasing. “I imagine that this is a day that’s been long overdue.”

You laughed, nodding in agreement. “Perhaps. It seems like all we ever do is chase after the little ones these days. I can’t even remember the last time we had a moment like this.”

“Well,” he said, his smile turning sly, “let’s make the most of it.”

The two of you had arranged for Eloise, of all people, to look after the children for the day. You had no doubt that she would manage just fine, despite her tendency to have an… unconventional approach to childcare. You’d left instructions, but in the end, it was her boundless energy and enthusiasm that had given you the most peace of mind. She adored the children and could handle their chaos like no one else.

“You’re sure you’ll be all right?” you asked, turning to Eloise as you stood in the doorway, the children already clamoring around her, tugging at her skirts.

“Of course!” Eloise said with a grin, her hands on her hips, eyes glinting with mischief. “We’ll have a splendid time. Don’t you worry. They’re wild, but they’re no match for me.” She raised a brow at you, as though daring you to question her ability.

Benedict laughed softly behind you, a knowing glint in his eye. “Just remember, no pirate ship building in the house this time. You’re in charge, not the other way around.”

“Ah, but the children will be much more enthusiastic about their adventures if they’re not confined to the parlor,” Eloise said with a dramatic sigh. “I promise we’ll be fine. Have a wonderful time. We’ll take care of everything here.”

You turned to Benedict, sharing a brief look, both of you fully aware that the chaos awaiting them was more than a little bit amusing. “Thank you, Eloise,” you said, trying to sound serious as you handed over the reigns. “No firecrackers, please.”

She raised her hand in mock solemnity. “Not a single one, I swear. Go enjoy yourselves.”

The drive away was an odd mix of relief and exhilaration. Benedict’s hand found yours as the carriage rolled through the city, the rhythm of the wheels setting a gentle pace for the conversation. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, savoring the quiet, until Benedict spoke again.

“You realize, this is the first time in months that I’ve been able to truly breathe without worrying about someone else.”

You nodded, appreciating the weight of his words. It wasn’t that you didn’t love your children—you did, with all of your heart. But the constant demands, the never-ending needs, had a way of draining you, of pulling you in a thousand directions at once. Being able to step away for a day, to simply exist as partners again, felt like a luxury you hadn’t realized you missed so much.

“Have you thought about what we’ll do?” you asked, turning your attention to Benedict, watching the way his eyes seemed to glimmer with excitement.

He smiled at you, a little devilish, a little wicked. “I have a few ideas,” he said, his voice dropping a little lower, full of intent.

You soon arrived at a secluded tea house, tucked away by a tranquil lake, far from the eyes of the Bridgerton family and the responsibilities that came with your roles. The atmosphere was serene, the kind of peace that allowed you both to simply exist without the outside world intruding.

Inside, the delicate clink of china on porcelain was the only sound that filled the air. The tea house was small but cozy, with soft light pouring in through the windows. A quiet retreat from the busy world, perfect for an afternoon away from everything. You were shown to a secluded table by the window, where the view of the still lake mirrored the calm you both felt in that moment.

As you sat down, Benedict reached across the table, his fingers brushing yours in the most intimate of touches. The simple contact sent a shiver through you, and you couldn’t help but smile at him, the warmth of his touch sending a rush of affection through your chest.

“This feels…” You started, trailing off as you gazed out the window, lost in the view. It was hard to put it into words—how perfect everything felt in this moment. The stillness, the privacy, the presence of Benedict beside you.

“It feels like it’s just us again,” Benedict finished for you, his voice full of quiet understanding. “No distractions. Just you and me.”

You nodded, smiling softly at him. “I’ve missed this. Just being with you.”

His gaze softened as he leaned in slightly, his voice growing quieter. “I think I’ve missed you more than you know. More than anything, really.”

Before you could respond, his hand moved across the table to gently caress your cheek. The soft touch of his fingertips against your skin sent a wave of desire through you, your heart beating faster. There was something about the simplicity of his gesture, how it communicated everything he couldn’t put into words. It wasn’t just a touch—it was a declaration, a reminder of how deeply he loved you.

Without a word, you leaned forward, closing the distance between you. His lips met yours in a kiss that started slow, tender, and deepened gradually, an unspoken conversation that only the two of you could understand. It was as if every moment of your love, every shared experience, every quiet glance was poured into that kiss, and when you finally broke away, your breath came in shallow gasps.

“I think we should do this more often,” Benedict said, his voice husky as he pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire. “Take time for just us. Make these moments last longer.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” you said softly, your lips still tingling from his kiss. “But I do love the chaos of our life. It’s part of who we are, isn’t it?”

He smiled, leaning back in his chair, his eyes never leaving you. “Yes,” he said, his voice low, “but I think we deserve these moments too. Moments where it’s just us, rediscovering each other, without the noise.”

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blissful blur. You and Benedict walked along the edge of the lake, talking about everything and nothing, enjoying the simplicity of being in each other’s company. You both didn’t realize how much you had missed this—how much you had missed each other—until it was just the two of you, without any distractions, without anyone else.

By the time you returned back home, the evening was already beginning to settle in. The children were being carried off to bed, though not without a fair amount of resistance.

“Well, they survived,” Benedict said with a chuckle as you both entered the drawing room. His eyes twinkled as they found Eloise, who was giving them an exaggerated, exhausted look.

Eloise dramatically flopped back onto the couch, throwing her arms out as if she were defeated. “I swear, I’ll never have children,” she announced, shaking her head. “That was—utter chaos! I don’t know how you two do it, but after today, I’ve made up my mind. I’m done with kids.”

You exchanged a glance with Benedict, both of you suppressing a smile at the sight of Eloise. She had clearly survived the day but looked like she’d just fought a battle.

“After one day?” Benedict teased, leaning against the doorframe. “You’ve had one day with them, Eloise. You’re telling us that’s enough to give up on children forever?”

Eloise shot him a mock glare, crossing her arms in front of her. “Absolutely. I am not cut out for this. Between Henry and his wild ideas, Clara’s endless energy, and the other three running around like banshees, I’m convinced that children are some form of divine punishment.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her dramatics. “It’s not that bad,” you said, though you knew it had been a chaotic day. “We’ve just… gotten used to it.”

Benedict raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a grin. “Yes, it’s all a part of the charm,” he said with a wink. “Of course, it does take some time to adjust to the constant noise and mess, but you’ll get used to it. Imagine what it’s like for us, living with the constant reminder that ‘everything’s fine’ while six little people demand every ounce of your attention.”

You laughed again, this time stepping toward Eloise and taking a seat beside her. “Honestly, though, it is a lot of work. But it’s also one of the most rewarding things we’ve done together. There’s chaos, sure, but then there are moments—small moments—when everything else fades and it’s just… perfect.”

Eloise’s face softened at your words, though she still rolled her eyes. “Maybe you think it’s perfect,” she teased. “But I could barely get them all to sit down for dinner without someone throwing a tantrum. Clara ended up with sauce all over her face, and I swear Henry tried to convince them all that the house was haunted. Haunted, Benedict! I almost lost my mind.”

“Well, I guess we can’t take Henry out of his role as the family mischief-maker,” you said with a smirk. “But hey, it keeps things interesting.”

Benedict chuckled, crossing his arms. “That’s true. And the energy is contagious. I can’t imagine life without it.”

Eloise sighed dramatically, throwing herself back against the cushions. “You two must be saints. I’ll take the quiet life, thank you very much. No children. No mess. No running around with pirate hats on. I’ll stick to my books and my solitude.”

Benedict leaned in, his gaze playful as he nudged Eloise with his shoulder. “Just wait until you have your own kids,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll change your mind.”

“Not a chance,” she replied with a mock glare, though her lips curled up into a grin. “I’ll stick to being the fun aunt who spoils them and then hands them back to you when they start crying. I’m not cut out for this.”

You grinned at Eloise, knowing exactly what she meant. “That’s the best part about being an aunt. You get all the fun, none of the responsibility.”

“Exactly,” she said, giving you a knowing wink. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a long bath and pretend this day never happened.”

[teecupangel]

Ok hear me out: Desmond as one of Ezio’s bastard children. He gets captured or something by whoever and gets forced to use the apple (since Ezio could open the vault because dna or some shit I wasn’t paying attention and by extension Desmond would also be able to)- which leads to the Apple basically sending Desmond into 2012 where he grows up for a while?

So forget Desmond going to the past- let’s send him into the future and warp his entire perspective of time so he just comes back and has NO idea what year it is and doesn’t believe anybody when they tell him when it actually is

I mean, if you really wish to hammer in the angst, you can make Desmond’s time in the future at the start being hopeful, with people helping him because he looked lost. Getting him on his feet and helping him move forward in this strange new world. Desmond was pushed into the future young enough that he has no problem acclimating with everything that was happening with the stubbornness and curiosity of a child but old enough to remember the Borgias and how Cesare taunted him about his father who didn’t even know he existed and would never think to look for him.

Let’s say Desmond is around… 10 or 11 years old when he’s transported in the future. That would make him be born in 1490, during the time a 31st year old Ezio was looking for any clues that would lead him to the Apple. It is during this time that he shared a night with a woman who looked a lot like Cristina.

Too much like Cristina, some may say, to be a coincidence.

Ezio would say that he had too much to drink back then and he had, as shameful at it was, not remembering the night correctly.

We’ll keep it a mystery if her similarity to Cristina was simply a coincidence or if this was the Calculations at play… with something more. (To muddle the waters, you can have other people say that she didn’t look like Cristina at all, if anything, she looked like Sofia… maaaayybbe)

Anyway, the main point is that Desmond returns to the past (or his actual present) on 1503 when Ezio took the Apple from the Borgias.

And this is where the timey-wimey aspect of this entire thing changes…

So we can have:

Desmond’s time is accelerated and he’s been in the future for the past 10+ years. He was living and found small pockets of happiness in the future that he considered returning to the past as… a punishment.

Desmond’s time in the future advances the same time as the past so, to him, 3ish years have passed as well. This would make Desmond around 13~14 years old roughly.

Regardless, Ezio knows Desmond is his son because Leonardo remembers seeing him and hearing Cesare talk about him (this is also the main reason why Ezio was looking for Desmond the entire time he was in Rome as well).

And here’s the kicker:

Desmond isn’t the name given to him by his mother. Desmond Miles is the name he took when he was taken to the future.

And now we have the subplot of Ezio wondering if his son is meant to be the Desmond that Minerva spoke of in the vault. And if he is… did that mean Ezio had to help Desmond return to the future so he can save the world?

[sanguineterrain]

Kurt wagner and tail stuff!!! I love that boy! I love how you write! I love the tail! Smashing them together we got a a little piece of heaven! So Kurt wagner with s/o and some tail action pretty please!!

(Like if you need some more then that: for example, the times before they were together Kurt’s tail always seemed to gravitate towards reader (I’m an advocate that Kurt’s tail is like a fricking mood ring) wrapping around them, touching them. The times when they were together! And the time reader wraps their hand or something around his tail or something)

Love your writing! You’re awesome and amazing! And I want to say in advance, thank you so so much for doing this ask! I will treasure it dearly! And if you don’t do the ask then thank you so so much to taking the time to read it! Have a lovely day!

ouuu this is a sweet request <3 tail boy! thanks nonnie :) hopefully I did him justice 🫶 changed the request a bit but kept the same idea about the tail. may write a part 2... we'll see!

kurt wagner (nightcrawler) x gn!reader. fluff, cooking, gambit and rogue trying to talk some sense into the reader.

note: I tried to capture kurt and gambit's accents. however, as always, I'm open to feedback on them. It's definitely not my intention to offend or miswrite anyone!

****

The smell of bubbling cheese wafts from your pot as you stir. It's been a while since you were able to cook for yourself and have a nice meal, always running out to do something or another for the good of the planet.

"Smells good," comes a familiar voice. A moment later, a tail curls around your wrist as you shake some paprika into the pot.

You look away from your stirring into golden, irisless eyes. Kurt grins at you.

"Mac 'n cheese," you say by way of greeting. "Want some?"

"Please und thank you."

Anytime you cook, you offer Kurt to share. You frequently have the thought that you spoil the hell out of him, but you can't help it.

He helps you out by putting away the milk and cheese. But he's never far; his tail remains on you. It slackens from your wrist, then explores up your arm and around your elbow.

It's nothing new, of course. The first thing you learned about Kurt Wagner is how physically affectionate he is.

"That tail seems to have a mind of its own, elfie," you say, smiling down at the pot.

"What do you mean?"

"It's always holding onto me." You turn off the burner.

"Ah." Kurt drops his tail. "My apologies. I can ease up, as you say."

You shake your head. "Don't. I don't mind. Never have."

So Kurt gives you one final tail squeeze. The fur on his arm tickles you as he brushes past. You watch him in confusion.

"Where are you going?" you ask, halfway through scooping two servings of the pasta.

"Not far," he says brightly. "Jean wanted me to bring spoons from the kitchen." He holds up three metal spoons with his tail.

"Spoons?"

He shrugs. "An experiment. Who am I to question a scientist's whim? I promise I will be fast."

He teleports away, and you have a mind to cover Kurt's bowl with a plate. You bring both bowls to the table. At last, a proper meal.

You don't mind eating alone, but that hardly ever happens with Kurt around. Even if he's just eaten, he'll nibble on whatever you've made. You don't know where he puts all that food—perhaps in another dimension—but he makes it a point to eat with you, regardless of whether you've cooked or not. Even if you're in the middle of the forest eating a tin of beans, Kurt will plant himself right next to you and keep you company.

He's a good friend. The best friend you've ever had, actually.

"Woo, smells good!"

Gambit comes in first, followed by Rogue, since the two are never seen apart anymore. Gambit, nosy that he is, makes a beeline to Kurt's covered bowl.

"And what's in here?" he asks, lifting the plate.

"That's Kurt's," you say. "You can get some from the pot."

"Mais, it's Kurt's, huh?" He glances at Rogue, who grins. "Hear that, chère? Not sure if I should take from the pot. Might take my head, too."

You squint as they share laughter. "What're you talking about?"

"Oh, nothin'," Rogue says sweetly, taking the seat diagonal to you. Gambit sits next to her.

Your frown deepens. "I didn't say you couldn't have some, G, I just—"

Gambit shakes his head. "Don't go worryin' 'bout that. I'm just teasin'. I think it's cute how you feed the furball."

"Excuse me, I feed myself first," you say, and shovel a forkful of pasta into your mouth.

You hate not being in the know. It happens frequently, being that you're not a mutant. You're here on a personal invitation from Charles due to your "technology skills."

Really, you'd been brought here to fix Cerebro. And after that, you'd sort of just... stayed at the school. Charles had offered you a room, Kurt had won your friendship (or, perhaps, you'd won his), and you'd never left.

"Well, what do you mean, anyway? So what if I feed Kurt," you say, unable to stand not knowing.

"Just seems like where you are, Kurt's never far," Rogue says, watching you eat.

"Yeah, so? He's my friend."

"Oh, un ami. Is that what we're callin' it?" Gambit asks, eyes gleaming with mirth.

"What else would you call it?"

They look at each other in that Siamese cats way. Often, you've had the thought that they can read each other's minds—no powers needed.

"You really don't know?" Rogue asks, voice softening.

"Know what?" you ask impatiently.

Gambit makes a quiet noise in his throat. "Y'all don't know. He's gone on you."

Your brows rise. "Kurt? Don't be silly, Remy."

"Oh, great. You're both in denial," Rogue says, rolling her eyes. "Haven't you noticed how touchy he is around ya? Always huggin' and clingin'."

"Kurt's like that with everybody," you say. "He's like that with Logan!"

"Mais, the tail, it never lies," Gambit says with all the wisdom of someone centuries older. "He don't go wrappin' that tail 'round anybody."

Rogue nods sagely. "True. And he's always puttin' that tail around you."

"But he's..." You put your fork down in frustration. "That's ridiculous. Kurt would've said—I mean, there would've been a sign. He would've told me. Kurt doesn't hide anything from me."

"This is new for him, honey," Rogue says. "He's never been in love for real. He's not gonna act rationally."

"Alors, look at it this way. La Raison parle, mais l'Amour chante. Hm? His body betray his words. It sings to you. Jus' like I sing to ma cherie."

He reaches to take Rogue's hand, eyes practically heart-shaped. Rogue lets him, smiling in that secret, shy way of hers whenever Gambit is sweet on her.

L'Amour...

"Kurt is not in love with me," you say. "End of story."

They both heave sighs.

"Just watch his tail," Rogue says. "Kurt can hide a lot, but he can't control how he—"

BAMF!

You flinch as Kurt teleports into the kitchen. He grins and waves, then bounces around the table to greet the others.

"I'm back!" he says. "I hope my mac did not get cold. Will you be eating with us?"

"No, that's okay," Rogue says, looking at you meaningfully behind Kurt's back. "Rain check. We've gotta go train."

Gambit winks at you. "See y'all."

They disappear quickly. Kurt turns to you, blissfully unaware of your newly formed nerves.

"I am sorry I was gone for so long," Kurt says, sitting down to his bowl. "Jean had some questions about my abilities. Apparently, she's trying to replicate them in a machine."

"That's okay," you say. "Rogue and G kept me company."

Kurt beams. "They are so good for that, yes?"

He shovels a mouthful of mac 'n cheese into his mouth and groans in appreciation. His tail instantly curls around your wrist.

"Amazing!" Kurt says. "Perhaps your special ability is your cooking, hm? I would believe it."

You laugh. "Danke, elfie."

"Bitte schön," he says, eyes lighting up at your German. He frequently informs everyone about how good your German is becoming, even though you hardly know ten phrases.

His tail begins to stroke your arm. You wonder if he's aware of it. If he knows how his tail betrays him.

But no, that's outrageous. And even if it was true, it's not like the feeling's mutual, right?

"Oh, and," Kurt says. "I got us tickets to that show you wanted to see. They're playing it at the theater downtown. We can go on Saturday, ja?"

"You... oh. Wow. I told you about that ages ago, Kurt. You remembered?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he says, tilting his head. Like it hadn't occurred to him to be anything less than thoughtful.

"No, I'm just—thank you. That's really nice of you."

Kurt beams. "I am excited to watch the green witch und her pink friend sing!"

He keeps eating, unaware of the way he's made your world tip on its axis. Because now you know.

You're in love with Kurt Wagner. And the feeling just might be mutual.

[kaciidubs]

Catnip and Kidnappings

Hi, 🧿 nonnie! This one's been a long time coming, and though it doesn't have much smut, I hope you still enjoy it! ❣ Summary: You just needed to go to the pet store for two things - so why were you suddenly in a car with a man you didn't know? ❣  ❣ Word Count: 2.5k+ ❣ Warnings: Mafia! AU, fluff, meet cute, implied danger, slight humor, cat talk, reader is a bit sassy but so is Minho ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

Two things. You just needed two things from the pet store, then you would be back home with your lovely tabby cat and show you’d been putting off for the better half of two weeks because it just ‘wasn’t the right time’.

So how, you ask, did you manage to find yourself hurriedly escorted away from the storefront of the pet store by a man you’d just met?

Well, you could target the beginning of the end the moment you stepped foot into the pet store, making your way to the cat aisle on instinct with your goal clear in your mind; catnip and premium cat food.

Premium cat food - you wished you could trick your furry child into eating a cheaper form of food, but his picky eater tendencies had set him in his ways ever since your mother decided to spoil him and introduce him to the world of Sheba pate and cuts of various meat and fish flavors; the same woman who claimed she didn’t like cats, yet bought him almost all of his toys.

Huffing out a quiet laugh at her change of heart, you bent to grab a box of the food packs, silently thanking the corporate gods that it was still on sale, before heading deeper into the aisle to grab the second item on your mental list.

You scanned the rack with the box still in your arms, adjusting it slightly every now and then until your eyes landed on the empty spot that usually had the brand of catnip you needed.

“Wonderful…”

“If you’re looking for catnip like that brand, you could go with the one with the red label - they look different because of the companies, but they’re really the same ingredient wise.”

“Oh, really? Thank-” The next word immediately died on your tongue as you turned your head, ready to thank a store worker but, instead, you were met with possibly the handsomest man you’d ever laid your eyes on.

Sharp eyes and a nose that looked like it belonged on a marble sculpture, paired with lips set in a faint frown and the prettiest jawline you’ve ever seen - he was gorgeous.

He seemed to either not notice your brain freeze or blissfully ignore it as he stepped closer to pick up the container before placing it on top of the cat food box in your arms.

“I have three cats and they all like both brands, there isn’t really a difference besides the fact that you don’t have to use as much of this one as the other one, which makes it better considering the price.”

Once his eyes finally met yours, you felt your brain kick back into gear, “O-Oh, okay, thank you so much!”

He hummed out a small sound of acknowledgement, giving you a curt nod and reaching forward to grab a container of his own; his eyes scanning across the small printed words for a moment before he looked to you once more. “Do you need help? Carrying that, I mean.”

“This? No, no, I’ve got it handled.” You adjusted the box once more, the catnip container sliding to the right until you balanced it out quickly, “All good, thanks again, though.”

Before you could embarrass yourself more than you already had, you thanked him once more and shuffled past him and out of the small aisle in record time, mentally cursing whatever line of fate led you down this path.

Placing your items on the conveyor belt, the cashier greeted you as they scanned your items and you typed in your rewards card onto the card reader’s keypad.

“Are you getting this, too?”

“What?” Looking up, you stared at the catnip in their hand with confusion creasing your brow.

“Um-”

“Yes, we are.”

The familiar voice made a chill run down your spine, your head whipping to see the same man from before, the faintest of curves to his otherwise neutral expression alleviating his otherwise stoic demeanor.

Shrugging lightly, the cashier proceeded to scan the second container before announcing the total.

Pressing his black card to the one-tap reader, he seamlessly slid it back into his wallet before stuffing it back into his pocket, “Think of it as a little gift for your cat, they deserve to be treated.”

For being stunned for the second time that day, your recovery was just as fast, “I’ll make sure to let him know a kind stranger cares about his picky habits.”

He huffed out a quiet chuckle, but that was more than enough to inflate your ego and make your heart flutter, quickly taking back your previous curse to thank fate instead.

After grabbing your bag of items, you made your way out of the store with your new companion following suit.

“So… Was that really just a gift for my cat? You don’t have any ulterior motives, do you?” You mused, turning to look at him fully as you stood outside of the storefront.

Shaking his head, he raised his hands in defense, “It’s just a gift - like I said, I have three cats so I know how it can get, better than most. Besides, the picky eater phase is really rough on the pockets at the worst of times.”

“Well, Miso appreciates your generosity.”

“Miso… cute.” He hummed softly, though his true excitement was evident in the small glimmer in his eyes.

“Do I have the honor of knowing your name?” Clocking the possible unintended implication of the question, you quickly backtracked, “Um- Just so Miso knows who he can thank while eating his pate salmon, of course.”

His lips parted to speak but closed twice as fast, his once relaxed smile turning into a firm line as he looked at you - almost enough to look through you, or rather, past you.

As you went to turn your head to gauge for yourself, you were stopped by the warmth of his hand around your wrist, winning your attention for himself like jingling keys in front of a baby.

“Let me bring you home, and I’ll tell you on the way.”

You felt your heart flutter, though you couldn’t ignore the unease creeping up your spine, “I appreciate it, but you really don’t have to-”

“I just want to make sure you make it home safely.” His mouth pressed into a tight lipped smile and his grip tightened ever so slightly, “Trust me.”

Maybe it was the fact that he sounded so sincere, aligning with the image of the kind man you’d seen in the pet shop, or perhaps it was the way his firm gaze flickered with a hint of urgency, but you found yourself nodding softly.

“Okay.”

With that, you were tugged down the sidewalk and around the corner, hurried footsteps falling alongside his long strides in hopes of keeping up.

“Is- Is there something wrong? What’s happening?”

“Everything’s fine.”

You bristled at his nonchalant, clipped tone, falling back on your pace by half a step. “I have a feeling you weren’t lying to me before, so, please, don’t start lying to me now.”

Feeling your resistance, he took a short breath and spoke, “Nothing’s wrong yet, and nothing is happening - I’d rather keep it that way, if you don’t mind.”

“But what did you see?”

“Someone who has no business trying to approach me in public unless they’re looking to start something they have no chance of finishing. I have no desire in getting innocent people caught up in those types of affairs.”

“Those types?” Your eyes widened as you neared a black car - slim, sleek, and a model that you had no chance of owning for yourself on your current pay grade. “Are you-”

“I’m no one.” He shut you down with ease before reaching forward to open the passenger’s side door, “Get in.”

Putting a temporary pin in your conversation, you quickly slid into the car, the faint scent of jasmine mixing with the musk of sandalwood and leather seats filling your nose; watching through the windshield as the black haired man rounded the car before sliding into the driver's seat.

“I don’t think a nobody just casually owns a car like this,” clicking your seatbelt into place and setting your bag on the floor, you shot him a wary glance, “if you’re going to kidnap me, Miso’s going to be royally pissed.”

The car’s engine roared to life, masking his light chuckle but doing next to nothing in hiding the slight uptick of his lips. “I’m not a kidnapper, though I’ll make an exception if Miso’s as cute as you make him out to be.”

With that, he shifted the gear and drove out of the parking lot, using the one-way street to get away from the pet store and the unknown assailant. Buildings and cars passed by in a blur after you told him your address, your hands nonchalantly turning your phone while the silence was placated with the sound of the engine and the radio - though, you had no hope of hearing what the song was from how low the volume was.

Taking a deep breath, you turned toward him, eyes tracing over his unfairly handsome side profile. “So… Is this the part where you tell me who you are?”

“I told you, I’m no one,” he hummed simply, eyes trained on the road ahead.

“And I told you I don’t like liars - you still owe me your name, you remember that, right? Now, since you’re saving me from some unknown evil, you owe me a full introduction.”

He glanced over at you, amused astonishment filling his face, “For someone who’s in the hands of a complete stranger, you make a lot of demands.”

“Think of it as your atonement for giving me two new life experiences in one when I was minding my own business buying catnip.”

You could just barely catch him rolling his eyes, muttering under his breath and hearing the words ‘worse’ and ‘friends’.

“Minho.”

“Minho?”

Minho rocked his head to the side, huffing, “My name is Lee Minho, I have three cats - Soonie, Doongie, and Dori - and I’m a businessman. I like going to that pet store because they donate some of their profit to shelters, and I know about the catnip brands because I have three cats - changing brands is a nightmare whether it’s one cat or several.”

A small smile found its way to your lips at the new information, your mind running wild at the image of this enigma of a man playing with three cats of his own. “Okay… But, when you say businessman, what type of business do you do?”

“The type that prefers to go unmentioned to civilians for their safety.”

“What- Like working for some secret branch of the government? Are you a cult leader? A member of the mafia?” An incredulous giggle bubbled past your lips, though when his demeanor grew colder, your stomach dropped. “You’re… You’re not, right?”

“What’s your name?”

“What?”

The car rolled to a stop at a red light, granting him the grace to look at you, brown eyes locking to yours with a firm stare. “You never told me your name. If you tell me your name, I’ll tell you my job - it’s your repentance for asking me more questions past my introduction. If you don’t want to tell me, then don’t, but I won’t tell you my job.”

Your name for his profession, your safety in exchange for his safety - it was only fair, truly.

Taking a deep breath, your name fell from your lips with a small air of confidence, “You already know about my cat, and my job pays just enough to support his picky eating habits. I like that pet store because they hosted an adoption event that brought Miso into my life, and I’ve been supporting them ever since.”

He made a sound of confirmation before turning his attention back to the road, pressing the gas as the light turned green and continued the journey to your apartment.

His choice of silence was almost enough to have your conscience second guessing your decision, until you noted the way his fingers drummed against the steering wheel; twitching, anxious, compared to the streamlined, firm grip he’d showcased at the beginning of the drive.

Eventually your apartment building came into view, the car slowing to a stop once he reached the front door.

“Well…” Lingering for a moment longer, you looked at him in hopes of seeing him turn to you one final time to honor his end of the agreement, but when he remained staring at the road ahead, you let it go. “I guess this is goodbye - thank you for what you’ve done for me, Lee Minho, I appreciate it.”

As you went to unbuckle your seatbelt, his hand wrapped around your wrist, his touch sending a chill down your spine and stealing your attention just like he did outside of the pet shop.

“I’m part of the mafia,” Minho spoke plainly, his tone emotionless, statement oriented, “the person I saw earlier was someone we’ve done business with before, some low life’s henchman most likely sent to get even, that’s why I wanted to get away like I did. I didn’t want our chance encounter to end with you getting hurt - you did nothing wrong, and I wanted to make sure you would be safe.”

The mafia… You weren’t sure if him being a cult leader would’ve been better or worse than this, but staring into his eyes, you could feel it wasn’t a joke, nor an elaborate cover up.

“What I said before, about not mentioning what I do for the safety of others… I swear to you that you’ll be safe after this - I’ll make it my personal job of making sure nothing happens to you because of this, okay? No lingering ties or deals to be made, you’ll be under our watch until we take care of that stunt they tried to pull.”

His promise eased the first stretch of fear growing within you, though the rest would have to be handled once you had the proper time to process your less than normal morning.

Nodding, you slipped your wrist from his grasp and grabbed your bag, turning to get out of the car until you froze.

“If you’re worried, you don’t have to-”

You leaned across the center console and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, a sign of gratitude, “Thank you, Minho.”

Reaching into your bag, you placed his container of catnip in his hand then quickly left the car - making your way up the flight of stairs to the lobby’s doors,only to turn around to see him patiently waiting for your entrance before slipping your way past the glass doors.

On the elevator ride up to your apartment, you couldn’t help it as your thoughts ran through the events like a film reel, though you weren’t sure if it was to get over the shock of reality, or to commit the image of that man to your memory.

Lee Minho, cat owner and catnip expert.

Lee Minho, morally gray mafia member.

Lee Minho, a man you hoped you would see in the pet store again.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: Tagged lovelies will now be done within the comments of the post due to Tumblr's tagging system being broken, thank you for understanding.

@luminouskalopsia, @zaethefangirl, @chxnb97, @sometimesleeknows, @hyunjinloverrrr, @rhonnie23, @channieswife, @beautyinhypnosis

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[bloodibambiidoll]

ok so hear me out. rafe and weird!girl get into an argument and rafe calls her weird or says something about her being normal for once and my girl gets all upset as she should.

Nonnie, are you in my walls? I’m very much having a day like this. This is heavily based on the day I had today and writing it made me feel sm better. Slight angst. Fluff. 1.8K words. NO MINORS!! (Note: weird!girl is autistic coded bc I am autistic)

You were extremely overwhelmed. It feels like every single thing is out to get you today. Before you and Rafe left to go on your first grocery shopping trip since you moved in together you got into a bit of a disagreement over the list. You are extremely picky. You have set safe foods that you like to stick to and you don’t like to stray from them. But Rafe on the other hand would eat almost anything. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that you wanted to live off of freezer waffles and chicken nuggets when he hired a professional chef for the two of you.

“Baby, why would I buy you the cheap freezer shit when I can have it made from scratch all fancy n shit?” It wasn’t about the price, you know that. It was just that Rafe wanted you to have the best of everything he could possibly give you and sometimes you just wanted the simpler things. Something that he’s still trying to understand.

“It’s just… I don’t want that. I want the ones from the store. That I always get. The ones I like.” Your lips were formed into a pout as you looked down at your lap and played with the rings on your fingers.

“Aight, Bats, if that’s what you want.” He shrugged and kissed your forehead before leaving you to finish getting ready. It was what you wanted. But you could tell it wasn’t what he wanted so you felt bad. You didn't want to be an inconvenience.

So after that you got in your head that you were too much for him. You spent the entire card ride to the grocery store thinking about how a normal girl wouldn’t want specific foods. A normal girl would be more than happy to have a personal chef make them anything and everything they wanted. A normal girl would be able to go to those fancy restaurants Rafe likes because she’d actually like anything on the menu. He tried to take you once and you spent the entire meal picking at your plate of chicken and veggies, so he never tried again settling to go places that had things you actually liked.

Then at the store you were so in your head that if you hadn’t made a list you probably wouldn’t have gotten a single thing you wanted. You couldn’t stop feeling like you were a burden to him because you needed him to buy you an entirely different grocery list from his own. You kept trying to put things back. Or tell him you didn’t need things that you did, in fact, need. You could tell Rafe was getting frustrated with you and it only made you want to shut down even more.

It didn’t help that the grocery store was easily one of your least favorite places. The lighting was awful. There were always so many people everywhere not looking where they’re going. The freezer section was always so cold that you spent that entire section of the shopping trip practically shaking. It was so goddamn loud. People talking. Kids crying. The squeaking of the old grocery cart wheels. So going there when you were already feeling overwhelmed was a recipe for disaster.

You fully lost it when you were checking out. The cart was extremely disorganized because you were too checked out to keep it in order the entire trip. The store you were at had it so you bagged your own groceries so the fact that the cart was a complete disaster made bagging them incredibly difficult. You were struggling to keep up with the cashier and also bag the groceries efficiently. He kept pushing the conveyor belt button, rolling the groceries that you haven’t bagged yet to pile up on top of each other at the end of it. The cart was full of bags and you weren’t even half done so you had to run and grab another one, only letting the pile grow further.

Rafe bought a case of beer and it the midst of you trying to frantically bag everything in a timely manner the cashier also asked you for your I.D. Which only frustrates you more. You don’t even drink beer. And it made you have to pause bagging again to dig in your purse. The cashier kept looking from the card to you and back again, like he thought it was fake.

“I know I look nothing like that, that was 7 years ago.” You didn’t mean to sound snippy, but you were pretty much at your limit.

“Baby, it’s fine, he’s just lookin’ for the date.” Rafe shot you a look and it only pissed you off more.

“Well he’s looking at it like it’s fake or some shit!” You scoffed as you slammed a full bag into the cart. Which only earned you another look from Rafe.

On the way home he hardly talked to you, instead he decided to blast trap music when you were clearly already overstimulated so you decided to put your headphones on and drown him out.

“Bats, the fuck is going on with you today, huh?” Rafe is towering over you the minute you enter the kitchen, backing you up against the counter.

“I just don’t like the grocery store. And you made me feel bad about the food. And everything was just so loud in there. And I felt like you hardly talked to me the entire time. I’ve felt like an inconvenience to you all day!” You snap at him as you stomp your foot in frustration, glaring up at him.

“All we did was go to the fuckin’ store. You’re seriously that worked up over it?” Rafe scoffs, running a hand through his hair.

“Yes! I am! The grocery store is extremely stressful for me and you’re not being considerate of that!!”

“That’s ridiculous, people go to the grocery store every day. It’s not a big deal. I don’t know why you can’t just be fuckin’ normal sometimes.” Rafe throws his hands up, letting them fall against his thighs with a smack. The minute the words leave his mouth your bottom lip starts to quiver as tears brim your eyes. And he knows he fucked up. Immediately he knows he fucked up.

“You know what? Why don’t you go find a normal girlfriend then!?” You push against his chest, running past him to your shared bedroom. You slam the door behind you, sliding down it as the tears in your eyes begin to spill down your cheeks. You knew it.

“Baby…” Rafe’s voice travels through the thick wood as he lightly taps on it. “ I’m sorry… that was- I shouldn’t have- Bats, can you open the door, please?”

“No. Go away.” You whimper as you curl further into yourself against the door.

“Baby girl, please? Just wanna talk. Lemme see you.” He turns the knob, pushing on the door lightly causing you to shift forward slightly. “C’mon, get away from the door, let me in.”

“Why don’t you go find a normal girl to talk to.” You snap at him before trying to push back against the wood but he’s so much stronger than you that it doesn’t even budge. Rafe shoves his foot into the crack of the door, pushing it until he can slip through. It slams shut behind him from your weight, causing you to yelp. He drops to his knees in front of you, taking your face in his hands. “Baby, look at me.”

“No.” You shake your head, subconsciously nuzzling into his touch. Your lips are quivering so bad your teeth are chattering as tears flow down your cheeks and Rafe kind of wants to kick his own ass.

“Listen I- I shouldn’t have said that, okay? I didn’t - fuck baby, I didn’t mean that shit. I was just frustrated. Doesn’t make it okay though, never wanna make my girl cry.” Rafe runs his thumbs down the apples of your cheeks, wiping away the salty tears that continue to fall. “I think I’ve gotten pretty damn good about knowing how you work. But with us living together now there's gonna be new shit that I’m gonna have to pick up on. I’m so sorry princess.”

“I just - I - just wanna be enough for you. Don’t wanna be a burden.” Your body tries to curl in on itself even more but Rafe doesn’t let it, he grips onto your hips and pulls you into his lap. He wraps his strong arms around you as he starts to rock you back and forth.

“Want you to listen to me baby, aight?” He takes your jaw in his hand, tilting your head towards his to get you to look at him. When you do it nearly cracks his heart. He hates that he made you feel like everyone else always has. “I never should’ve fucking said that shit. I didn’t mean it. Not even a little bit. I wouldn’t change a single thing about you, okay? I fuckin’ love you and all your weird little shit. Your weird little shit just makes me love you more. I’ve never known anyone like you. You’ve taught me so much. I guess I’ve just still got some shit to learn. But I’m trying, Bats. I’ll never stop trying.”

“You really mean it?” You sniffle as you look up at him through your teary eyes and Rafe has never felt more bad than he does at this moment. If he saw anybody else making you cry like this they would be so fucked and here he is, doing it.

“Of course I fuckin’ mean that shit, baby girl. I’m sorry for losing my patience with you today. I never, ever, wanna hurt you. Never wanna make you feel like all these other douchebags on the island do. Kind of want to run them all over, including myself right now.” Rafe lets out a dry chuckle when he sees the corner of your lips tilt up slightly. His large hand runs down the back of your head, smoothing down your hair as he continues to rock the both of you. “You know I love you more than anything, right?”

“It’s okay, Rafey. I know I can be too much sometimes. But I do know that you love me.” And you do. Especially right now. Rafe never opens up to you like this. And you kind of want to blow him right now.

“Hey, you aren’t too much, aight? Don’t ever let anyone make you feel that way. Including me, put my ass in check baby. God knows I need it.” He smiles down at you before leaning to place a gentle kiss on your lips. “Want me to put some nuggets in the air fryer for you and we can watch that movie you’ve been trying to get me to watch?”

“Mhm, that sounds perfect daddy.”

All things Rafe & his weird!girl here

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Dead Man Walking || LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader Summary: A night out with your best friend ends in her brother's bed. For my sweet, @morgan108 and the nonnie who introduced me to the song Dead Man Walking by Jon Bellion Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fingering smutish, fluff, angst WC: 2.3k F1 Masterlist || One || Two

You were halfway into the strapless dress you had chosen for the night out when the door swung open and Lando stepped inside with a package in his hands.

“Flo, can you please stop ordering shit off my Amazo-” 

You gasped as you dropped the material to cover your boobs but the thin satin just fluttered to your feet, baring even more to him. The lace thong did little to hide anything and his eyes drifted down over your body, down to the heels you wore and back up again before he realised he was checking you out. 

The package fell from his hands and he covered his eyes as you both winced at the sound of something shattering inside. “I didn’t see anything.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Norris,” you stated as you swiped the dress up and covered yourself properly. 

“I swear,” he cleared his throat and peeked between his fingers to see you were dressed before his hands slipped into his pockets and he rocked on the balls of his feet with a smirk. “I absolutely did not see the cute little tattoo on your hip.” 

You turned around and closed your eyes so you didn't have to see the hungry look in his. He was your best friend's brother, you had known him since you were three years old. You shouldn’t even hazard to think about him the way you did, and you definitely shouldn’t enjoy the way he looked at you. Well, the way he looked at you these past few years at least. 

Somewhere along the way he stopped seeing you as the annoying little girl who would steal his snacks on movie nights and started seeing you as…something more.

“Unless you want your sister to strangle you, I suggest you get out of here now.”

He threw his hands up at the idea. “It’s my house.”

You cocked a hand on your hip and he bit his lip at the memory of the dainty little constellation inked into the skin that lay beneath. He hadn't been close enough to see it in detail but he was certain it was your star sign. “It’ll be an estate sale if she catches you in here.”

With a sigh he backed up, murmuring under his breath as he left, “Last time I let her hide out here for the holidays.”

 Every surface of the house was littered with Flo’s belongings. She had spent the last two weeks in Monte Carlo with Lando and you were joining her for the last weekend before summer break was over and it was back to university. You were going to make the most of the trip and planned on seeing just how wild the nightlife could get in the small city. 

It was only moments after Lando left the room that Flo swept in and she stumbled to a stop. “Holy shit, babes, you look gorgeous! Don’t let Lando see you in that.”

“Why not?” you asked as you grabbed your perfume, the same one he had once commented smelt good on you. 

Flo crossed the room with a peculiar look on her face and she stepped right into your personal space so she wouldn’t be overheard. “I haven’t seen him with a girl the entire time I have been here, like not even on the phone. That's weird right?”

You pursed your lips and pressed a hand to her forehead. “Do you have sun stroke?” 

She brushed your hand aside with a roll of her blue eyes that matched her brothers perfectly. “The horndog hasn’t been horndogging.”

“Okay, that doesn’t sound how you think it does,” you said as you grabbed her shoulders and gave her a gentle shake so she could refocus her thoughts. “What does that have to do with me?”

“Because you’re stunning and, most importantly, you’re the only female in this house that is not related to him. I know you would never betray me like that but I know that horndog would totally try it on with you.”

“Seriously, Flo, I think you need a drink more than me,” you laughed, shaking your head as you grabbed your clutch and started to tow her out of the room. “I’m sure your brother’s not desperate enough to risk death. Plus, he could open his front door, throw a rock and hit ten supermodels in this place. I think I’m safe.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you compare yourself to supermodels when you are literally the most beautiful person I know - inside and out.”

“I’m not wearing waterproof eyeliner so can we please go before you make me cry?” You looped your arms together before descending the stairs where Lando was waiting with Max, the two watching some video on Lando’s phone before the tap of your heels caught their attention. 

“Oh boy, you’re going to be busy tonight. Good luck keeping the guys away from them,” Max laughed as he slapped his best friend's chest. “Ladies, looking lovely as always.”

“Not so bad yourself, Fewtrell,” you said with a wink, abandoning Flo’s arm for his. “Now what’s this I hear about you playing Counter Strike? Who am I supposed to shit talk with in the COD chat room now?”

“Counter Strike isn’t too bad,” he teased as he led the way to the Jolly and pulled the front seat forward for you to climb in the back, “maybe you could come to the dark side.”

“Who kicked your puppy?” Flo asked quietly and you looked away from Max to see Lando looking angry as he ignored his sister’s question. 

“You, upfront,” he said with a nod of his head your way. 

“I’m fine here.”

“Flo doesn’t need the leg room,” he countered as he snapped his finger, making your brow lift at the action. 

“Bro, you're stressing,” Max laughed, reaching for the chair and pulling it back into place so Flo could sit down. “Let’s just get to the club.”

You could feel his eyes on you in the rearview mirror the entire time and it would have been a lie if you said you didn’t enjoy teasing him. The pair of blue eyes narrowed when you shifted closer to Max, leaning across him to point at random shops and monuments, asking him pointless questions about them until you nearly flew forward with the heavy break Lando made. It was only Max’s quick reflexes that saved you, his arms catching you around the middle and tugging you back into his arms.

“Dude, where did you get your licence?” he complained as he kicked the seat in front of him, earning a glare from Lando.

“Fucking Mario Kart,” you muttered as you settled back in the seat.

As soon as you got to the club you ditched the guys and found your way to the bar. 

“What was up with your brother?” you asked after ordering some shots. “He was being a bit of a twat.”

“I have no idea, he’s just like Mila - if he doesn’t get a nap he’s a nightmare to deal with.” The drinks were put down and talk of Lando was forgotten. “Bottoms up, babe.”

You groaned as you slowly came to consciousness thanks to the uncomfortable, hard pillow. You knew if you opened your eyes you wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep so you tried to fluff it out with a whack of your fist, only for a pained groan to jolt your senses. 

“What the fuck was that for?”

You bolted upright as your eyes flew open and saw the smooth expanse of Lando’s chest, small outlines of your ear shaped into his skin from laying there all night. Your eyes drifted down his body and you held the memory of feeling every inch of it last night. 

“What did you do?” you whispered as you covered your mouth only to drop your hands to your body when you found you were equally as naked as he was. “Oh, fuck. Lando…”

“Yeah, you said that last night,” he chuckled as he sat up, his abs hardening with the movement and distracting you from what he was saying. “Though it was a little more breathless and a bit higher pitched.” Grabbing your waist, he pulled you over his lap and tipped your head back so you could see the little smirk on his face. “As for what I did, well, it was everything you asked for, no, begged me for.”

Your skin was too warm against his, the replay in your mind making your eyes shut as you tried to block it out. You had begged him, and he had been more than willing to give you everything you asked for. 

“This was a mistake. You are a dead man walking if Flo ever finds out.” You covered your face as you shook your head. “Oh, god, she was right, you were desperate. That’s the only reason this happened, why it was me and not some other chick who would blabber to the press. You knew I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“You’re wrong, about everything. I’m not desperate, you muppet,” Lando breathed across your skin and you peeked through the gap in your fingers as he kissed your shoulder. “How could I want anyone else when you’re all I ever think about?”

You could see Flo getting lost in the crowd as she danced with a handsome monegasque, the sway of her hips translating despite not being able to speak the same language. It was a side profile from the corner of your eye that pulled your attention away from her and you spotted Lando making a direct line her way. 

“Shit,” you swore as you did what any best friend would do and ran interference. “Hey Lan, I don’t think I thanked you for letting me stay at your place this weekend. It’s really nice of you.”

He looked torn as his eyes darted between you and the space where Flo had been before disappearing deeper into the night club. Without the distraction of the punk trying to grind on his sister he was able to give all his attention to you and you saw the switch as his face relaxed, the hard lines easing and a playful smile gracing his lips.

“I would say anytime, but I think you would get me in trouble,” he teased, dipping his head closer to yours to make conversation easier, at least that's what you told yourself.

“You get yourself into trouble,” you pointed out as his hands found your waist and he pulled your body closer. “This is what I mean.”

His lips brushed your cheek and the gravel in his voice sent goosebumps prickling over your skin. “We’re just dancing, love.”

Your bodies had moved closer and closer with each beat of the song until there wasn’t an iota of space between you. His palms had glided down the satin material to rest on the swell of your ass and your arms had draped around his neck. You could feel his breath on your skin when he buried his face in your neck and grazed his lips lightly over your racing pulse.

“Do you know that you drive me crazy?” he asked with a nip of his teeth and you shook your head. “You do. Seeing you flirt with other guys, seeing the way they look at you…”

You pulled back to see the hard lines return to his jaw as he clenched his teeth and you twirled your fingers around the short curls at his nape. “How do they look at me?”

“The same way I do,” he answered quickly before stepping out of your embrace. “But they have a chance that I never will.”

He started to walk away and you knew you should have let him because he was right. You loved Flo, and she had made it clear from the moment you realised that boys didn’t have cooties that Lando was off limits, just like your group of friends were off limits to him. You should have let him walk away.

“She cannot find out,” you whispered as your body started to respond to the small lines he traced down your spine and over your hip. 

He chuckled as his hand reached your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin as he guided them apart. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Your lips parted with a soft gasp as his fingers reached the juncture of your thighs and you combed your fingers into his hair as he teased your entrance. “Kiss me,” you begged, your voice quiet with the knowledge his sister, your best friend, was asleep on the other side of the wall. “Please, Lando.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as he tortured you with slow circles until he sealed his lips with yours and stole the cry of pleasure when he finally curled two fingers into you. “Shh, love,” he chuckled as he brought you the edge of bliss on his lap, his eyes devouring the sight of your undoing right in front of him. “Been wanting this since we played Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

Your ears were ringing as your heart beat erratically and your body flushed with fever. Your legs began to tremble and your toes curled into his mattress as he pinned you to his lap with one arm curled around your waist and the other kept you dancing on the knife's edge. 

“You were my first kiss,” he confessed against your lips as the tension in your body snapped and he used his lips to smother the whimpers and moans he swore were the sweetest sounds he had ever heard. 

“You were mine too.” Collapsing weakly in his arms, your head rolled into the crook of his neck where it fit perfectly. “I wanted you to be my first everything.”

Click here for part two.

[aerynwrites]

Worthy

Gale x Fem!Reader/Tav

A/N: based on this request! I hope you enjoy this nonny (and everyone else!)

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Self-Esteem Issues, insecurity, reader feels unworthy of Gale, comparisons to Mystra, emotional hurt/comfort, angst, fluff at the end, Gale is a sweetheart.

*Not beta read, apologies for any grammatical or blatant errors*

The stars offer you no solace tonight. 

Instead their gentle twinkling light seems only to mock you, taking you back to the memory Gale shared with you from his meeting with her. 

Mystra. 

The goddess who has held so much of Gale’s past in her hands and apparently still seems to have him in her grasp. 

Your self worth has always been something you’ve struggled with, especially in relationships. So, when Gale showed interest in you all those weeks ago you had a hard time accepting it, especially when you found out about his past with the goddess. 

But you’d started to love past that. As each day with Gale he proved his love for you more and more, with each little action or sweet word. He told you of the betrayal he faced at Mystras hand, how he had been cast aside and now with the orb in his chest…

You shake your head. 

All of that has shattered now. That tiny voice in your head coming back full force after your visit to Mystra’s shrine. After Gale had seemed so excited about the prospect of earning his goddess’ forgiveness by giving her the crown. 

You have to fight the tears that burn at the back of your eyes. 

Even now, Gale is off at Sorcerers' Sundries trying to learn more about the crown, asking Rolan if there are any more tomes he may have on hand.

That little voice is loud tonight. Louder than it’s ever been as you gaze at the stars from the balcony of your shared room at the Elfsong. Telling you that you were right all along. You’re not worthy of a man like Gale. 

How can you be? How can you ever compare to a goddess? 

The tears finally slip down your cheeks then, unable to contain the emotions that have been building in your chest. 

And as if the goddess herself wants to torment you, it’s at that same moment that the door to your room creaks open, Gales' excited voice drifting through the air. 

“You’ll never believe what I was able to find at Sorcerous Sundries,” he says happily, and you hear him set something down somewhere behind you as you try to wipe fruitlessly at your tears. 

You can hear Gale approach where you're standing, and you turn your face away just as he comes up to your side. 

“Rolan truly is a visionary, he was the one able to point me in the direction of-“ 

A particularly harsh sniffle from you makes Gale stop in his tracks, brows furrowing in concern. 

“What’s wrong, my love? Are you alright?” He asks, reaching out to wrap an arm around your waist, hand settling on your hip. 

Just another reminder of where you feel you fall short of Mystra. 

You step out of his embrace, missing the way his face further crumples, confused at your withdrawn state. 

Gale is not blind, nor is he deaf or inattentive. He knows of your struggles when it comes to relationships and your own self image, you’ve told him as much. But things were good - you’ve both made great strides when it comes to your relationship. 

So why are you pulling away? 

You shake your head, still wiping at the tears that won’t stop. “I’m fine, Gale.” 

He takes a step closer to you, frowning deeper when you take a step back. “Clearly not,” he says gently. “Please, you know you can confide in me, as I have you. Talk to me, my love.” 

Finally, you turn to look at him fully, face hot and eyes wet with tears. 

“Will you go back to her?” You finally ask, voice cracking through the lump in your throat. 

Gale looks puzzled. “I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean.” 

You take a deep breath, chest heaving. “To Mystra, Gale. Are you-“ your words break as you fight back a sob. “She asked for the crown in return for removing the orb, correct?” 

“Yes, but I have yet to see why that is causing you such upset-“ 

“Because she’s a goddess!” You cry, tears coming down harder than before. “She’s offering you forgiveness, for you to be back in her good graces and I-“ a sob interrupts your words. “Why would you ever stay with me when you can go back to her? Why do you love me?” 

Gale’s lips part in surprise, eyes widening as it finally settles in why you’re upset. And if you could see through your tears, you would see the heartbreak that displays itself on his face. 

“She’s beautiful,” you continue, “and I-I’m this!” You gesture at yourself, heart threatening to snap in two. 

How did you ever think he would stay? 

You’re just about to turn and leave the balcony, leave the room in an effort to leave before he can prove you right. But before you can escape two warm hands cup your face, thumbs wiping at the tears that still cling to your cheeks. 

“Put those vile thoughts from your mind. You are a sight to behold, more beautiful than any god or goddess,” Gale whispers, brown eyes searching your own as he pulls you close. “Mystra may still be my goddess but that is all,” he says firmly. 

“I did agree to bring her the crown. But only so she could take this orb from my chest. Forgiveness be damned. I would not care if she took the crown and never looked upon me again,” he admits, thumbs moving down to trace gently over your lips. 

“I could not bear the thought of living the rest of my life with you with that threat looming over us. I agreed for you. For us.” 

His words are so full of conviction as he whispers them into the air between you, his lips almost brushing yours from how close he stands. You want to believe him, and in truth you do. You do believe him, because he’s shown you time and time again that he chooses you over anything. He even chose you over the crown, the chance at godhood. 

Yet that voice is still there, even if it’s quieter than before. 

“But…why?” you ask again, voice matching his in a whisper. “Why do you choose me when you’re worthy of so much…more.” 

Gale presses his forehead to your own, your noses bumping together as his lips brush your cheek. 

“If anyone is unworthy in this situation, it is me,” he tells you softly. “A man fallen from the grace of the gods. I have failed myself and you in more ways than one and yet you still remain by my side. Please…” His lips brush yours once more. “Let me do the same for you. Don’t push me away.” 

Before you can respond, Gale presses his lips to yours, arms moving to slide around your waist as he pulls you close. 

This time you don’t stop him. 

This time you stay. You let him kiss you and let him embrace you as he pours his love into you. 

Only when he pulls away do you finally find words. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

Gale's lips tilt up in a small smile as he shakes his head. “Do not apologize to me, my love. Just know that I love you to the ends of the universe, and hold that love in your heart whenever those thoughts of doubt try to creep back in.” 

You nod, moving to wrap your arms around him as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck. “I love you too.” 

Gale hums low in his chest as he holds you tighter, swaying gently in the cool night air of the balcony. 

And when you pull away just enough to look up at the stars…you swear they shine just a bit brighter than before.

[navybrat817]

Smartie: would you love me even if I were a gecko?

Stud: I would find a Witcher and make him turn me into a gecko and this would be us: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMMVoXtHD/

BAHAHA. Nonnie, I burst out laughing watching this and reading the comments.

Like Animals

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You ask Bucky an "important" question and he gives you a thorough answer. Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: Humor, fluff, implied explicit sexual content, inner monologue, TikTok video, pet names, established relationship, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Apologies to geckos. A/N: Some Stud and Smartie for your Tuesday. Had to do it, @whisperlullaby and @targaryenvampireslayer! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

A smile pulled at your lips when you saw Bucky relaxed in his chair, engrossed in his newest book. Soot and Alpine cuddled up together nearby, both letting your man have some peace as he read. Naturally, it was the perfect time to interrupt him. Because you had a very important question for him.

One that would shape the future of your relationship.

He’ll understand why I bothered him.

“Hey, Stud?” You asked as you took a seat on the sofa, his steel eyes peering up from the pages to gaze at you. Your heart would always skip a beat from that look. “I have something very important to ask you.”

He put his bookmark in to give you his undivided attention. “What’s up? Is it about the wedding?”

“No,” you smiled. You were aware that some men didn’t care about wedding planning, but Bucky was. He wanted it to be the perfect day for you. “But the question is kind of related to love and our relationship.”

His brows furrowed when you didn’t elaborate. “Okay. What’s the question?”

You inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Would you still love me if I turned into an animal?”

Bucky blinked once. Twice. The corner of his mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile or laugh. “An animal? What kind of animal?”

You huffed when he didn’t immediately say “yes”. That should’ve been his answer. “I don’t know! A gecko! Yeah. A gecko.”

I have to keep a straight face.

Amusement sparkled in his eyes, but he still tried to remain as stoic as he could. “A gecko? Why a gecko?”

“Because geckos are cool!” You replied, close to bursting out laughing at the absurdity of the questioning and logic. But wasn’t part of the fun of having a partner being able to discuss stuff like this? “They can climb walls, can live a long time, they make great pets-”

“You wanna be my pet, Smartie?” Bucky asked, his voice dropping an octave.

Yes.

“You’re…” you sighed when he ran his tongue along his lips. He was a sexy bastard and you would soon call him your husband. “You’re distracting me. Answer the question, please.”

“So, that’s a yes,” he smirked, pushing his hair back and causing you to stare a bit again. “You’re asking me if you were a gecko, would I still love you?”

“Yes,” you said, rolling your eyes to try and play it off as something silly. Which it was. “Would you love me even if I were a gecko?”

Bucky set the book on the table before he moved from his chair to the couch. Your heart raced when he took your left hand and kissed over your engagement ring. “Smartie. Doll. Baby. Love of my life, of course, I would,” he said, your cheeks warm when he smiled at you. “In fact, I would find a Witcher and make him turn me into a gecko so we could be together properly.”

Right answer, Stud.

“You would?”

“I would,” he promised, pressing his forehead to yours. “I don’t want to exist in a world where we can’t be together.”

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

“I don’t either,” you whispered, your heart full. “And no matter what, human, gecko, anything, I’m your Smartie and you’re my Stud.”

You knew if tomorrow you woke up as some different version of you, he’d love you. If someone tried to separate you, he’d find a way to get you back. He was your soulmate. You had the whole world because of him.

“Damn right,” he whispered, brushing his lips against yours before he pulled away. “Besides, if I ever found that Witcher, this would be us.”

…What?

“What would be us? I’m confused,” you said as he took out his phone and pulled up a video, cuddling close to you could both see the screen. “What is this?”

Bucky gently shushed you as he turned up the volume. “Just watch.”

You tilted your head as a rock came into view. “What are you showing me?” You questioned before your eyes went wide. Bucky’s arm over shoulders shook as he started chuckling. “Are those geckos fucking?!”

The decibel of your voice made the cats raise their heads, but they didn’t move since you weren’t in any sort of danger. “Yeah, they are,” your fiancé laughed. “Geckos in their semi-natural habitat.”

This wasn’t on my BINGO card for the year.

“Why do you have this?!” You asked, turning to look at him. “Wait, when did you start using TikTok?! Is this on your FYP? Is this a new kink you haven’t told me about? Because that’s a whole other conversation.”

He threw his head back and you couldn’t help but laugh with him. “You’re missing it.”

“Yeah, because gecko porn was the thing I was missing in my life. Everything makes sense now,” you teased, gesturing to the screen. “And, by the way, that’ll never be us.”

Bucky’s laughter came up short and, for a moment, sadness flickered in his eyes. “I thought you said we’d be together if we were geckos.”

“We would be,” you assured him, seeing happiness all over his face once again. “But look. He’s doing all the work and she looks bored as hell. That’s not me and that’s not our sex life.”

“So, I fuck you better?” He teased you.

Duh.

Whatever kind of sex you had before you met Bucky didn’t even count to you. He ruined you so thoroughly that you didn’t even remember the first guy you kissed. It was as if he erased all other guys from your mind.

Love was a powerful thing and Bucky had it in abundance.

“Yes, so much better. I mean, come on, she looks like she’s thinking, ‘Did I leave the stove on?’”

The brunette burst out laughing all over again.

I love that sound.

“Seriously! I would never just be still like that and you know it. There’s a difference between being a pillow princess and a dead fish,” You smiled, cuddling closer so you could feel his chest rumble beneath your hand. “And just for making me look at that, I want you to try and keep a straight face the next time we have sex.”

“What? That’s not fair,” he groaned, making you shriek when he suddenly laid you out on the sofa, his phone forgotten. “I can’t keep a straight face when I’m inside you. Your pussy feels too good for that.”

He always looks gorgeous when he slides into me.

“So does your cock. I don’t think I could look bored if I tried,” you agreed, raising an eyebrow when he moved on top of you. “But seriously, how is it that you just happened to have that video when I asked about us being geckos? You didn’t know I was going to ask you that.”

He grasped your chin to give you a thorough kiss, the kind that drove every sane thought from your mind. “I guess the two of us are just in sync,” he said.

“I guess we are,” you smiled. “But no more gecko porn today, okay?”

“Okay,” he smirked down at you. “But I will fuck you like an animal.”

True to his word, that was exactly what he did.

Oh, I adore them. 🥰 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

“No, wait. Stay- Stay back. I need to think rationally.” “...What’s that got to do with me?” for bruce please? 🤲

“I’m weak for you.” Prompts

Sure thing nonnie! This one went a little angstier than intended, sorry 😅 the spirit moved me

Warnings: Angst that ends in fluff; no relation to The Other Half

You were trying not to completely lose your cool, but under normal circumstances, who wouldn’t be freaking the hell out?

“Oh…My god.”

“Okay,” Bruce set the helmet on his kitchen counter, raising his hands, “I know this looks bad.”

“Oh my god."

“I need you to take a deep breath—“

“Oh my god.”

“And relax—”

“Oh my god, are you kidding me?” You screeched, waving your hands to the batsuit. Bruce took another step closer, and you raised your hand to stop him. “Don’t.“

“Let’s sit down,” He took another step, and you shook your head.

“No, wait. Stay—Stay back. I need to think rationally.”

“…What’s that got to do with me?”

You shot Bruce a withering look, eyes darting between him, the suit, and the helmet. The engagement ring on your hand had never felt so heavy before, not even when he put it on your finger. Your hands curled into fists as you lowered them to your sides. Bruce’s expression was indiscernible as you took a few steps closer, then skirted around him, hurrying to the penthouse elevator.

“I’m going to—I need to clear my head,” You flubbed.

“Are you coming back tonight?”

You should’ve said yes, you knew that. This was Bruce, your Bruce, the man that you loved, but…You were suddenly questioning whether you’d ever really known the man at all. You gave a small shake of your head.

“I don’t know.”

You felt like you should apologize for it, but you couldn’t. You stepped onto the elevator, curling your arms around yourself and keeping your gaze studiously on the floor. You saw Bruce come into view just as the doors slid closed, but he made no effort to stop them from closing.

You drew in a shuddering breath as the elevator began to descend, leaning back against the wall and scrubbed your shaking hands over your rapidly heating face. You heaved in tight, nervous breaths, desperately trying to calm yourself. You pushed away from the wall as the elevator doors opened, and nearly slammed directly into someone.

“Oh—!”

“Pardon me, miss.”

You looked up to find Alfred there, his hands steadying you. He searched your face for a moment, his smile wilting.

“…He told you,” He surmised, and your stomach lurched. Of course Alfred knew.

“Not exactly,” You managed. “Excuse me.”

"Can I drive you somewhere?"

"No! No. Thank you."

Alfred gave a small nod as you stepped past him, hurrying out and into the night.

—

You both looked like shit—tired, and drawn, sitting at the opposite ends of the counter as sunlight crept into the kitchen. Neither of you were speaking as Alfred puttered around efficiently, setting mugs of coffee down for both of you before disappearing up the stairs.

“…Where’d you go?” Bruce finally asked.

“You didn’t follow me?”

“You thought I would?”

You nodded. He tipped his head to the side.

“…I considered it,” He admitted.

“Have you followed me before?”

“A couple of times, early on.”

“Why?”

“You weren’t traveling to the safest of places.”

“I was fine.”

“I know.”

“Of course you do,” You muttered.

"So?"

"Hm?"

"Where'd you go?"

"Just to a hotel." You trailed your finger along the side of the coffee mug. You didn’t feel any less flustered than you had the night before. Distance and space had helped level your head a little, but the more you’d thought about your life with Bruce, with who he truly was, your questions had multiplied.

“…Has it been you the entire time?” You asked.

“Yes.”

“You’re not some copycat?”

“No.”

“…How can I trust that?”

“You—“

“How can I trust anything that you say now, Bruce?”

He didn’t answer, or try to justify anything, just hung his head. You were angry, sure, and you were so fucking confused, but you couldn’t just look at that hangdog expression and just sit there like a fucking statue.

You straightened up, crossing to Bruce and curling your arms around his shoulders. Bruce twisted slightly in your grasp, drawing you closer and curling his hands in your sweater. You sighed softly, pressing a kiss to his head as you gently raked your nails over the nape of his neck. The two of you held one another for a few minutes, reveling in one another’s touch.

Bruce leaned away to get a better look at you, grasping your hands. His thumb smoothed over the band of your engagement ring, and you watched relief sweep over him.

“You’re still wearing it,” He murmured.

“Mhm. Someone would have to pry it off of my cold dead—“

“Please don’t say that.”

You bit your lip. Fuck, you didn’t mean it like that.

“Sorry, baby.”

"Mm."

You sighed, grasping his chin and tipping his head up to get a good look at his face.

“…I’m still mad at you.”

“I know.”

“I have a lot of questions.”

“I know.”

You shook your head, sighing.

“Okay,” You turned, looking around. “We’re going to bed, we’re getting some sleep, and when we get up, I’m going to interrogate the fuck out of you.”

"I'm looking forward to it."

Tag list:

@missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ; 

@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ;  @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; 

@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; 

@thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; 

@winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989 ; @missswriter ; @nominalnebula

[garoujo]

hiiiii !!! what are your thoughts on reader bumping into ex!gojo at a party, after not having seen him for years? his unboxing has taken a toll on me i’m patiently waiting for anyone to write fics for him 🤸🏻‍♀️

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — you don’t realise how much your heart still calls for your ex until you see him again, years later.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ contents! sort of angsty but mostly fluff! ex!boyfie gojo, ex’s to lovers sort of vibe, very much right person wrong time ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! i’m so sorry this took me so long to get to nonnie, i’m also sorry this turned out sad snifle! i wrote it to this song so i blame that! i’m sorry i just had to post for him tonite!

maybe you should’ve just stayed at home, you think despite the way you know you don’t mean it, as you let the drink in your hand swirl around it’s cup a few more minutes longer. it’s lost its bubbles slightly, it’s leaning more towards an hour old— still untouched as you lean yourself against the kitchen counter while your friends catch up around you.

it’s been a while since you’ve seen everyone like this, a few years atleast you’d assume and it was fun, recalling back the memories— the drunken nights and the time you spent together, the seasons you experienced. there’s a sentimental sort of feeling to it all, you realise.

everyone’s different now, not only in looks— in spirit maybe, married and settled down, running their own business or jet setting abroad. your childhood bestfriend is taller, she smiles softer now— maybe it’s the ring on her finger or the love in her life. it suits her.

“hey! you still with us?” she calls to you, just as you hear the apartment door close again— alerting you to more guests despite the way there’s probably around fifteen of you here already. you jolt slightly, sending her a smile before you’re placing down your glass and excusing yourself to the bathroom.

you allow yourself a few breaths to relax before you smile at yourself in the mirror, it’s nice being able to see everyone again— not realising how much you’d missed them and suddenly you realise that you’re so happy to have lived.

you pat yourself on the cheeks as you give yourself a silent little nod, soft sort of smile in place as you push your way through the bathroom door again— maybe a little too determined to seize the night when you send yourself into a hard chest as you clumsily leave the room.

“ah! sorry, are you okay?” you begin as you try to steady yourself but there’s hands there to keep you from falling before you even realise you’re on your way down.

“oh? it’s been so long you’re jumping into my arms already?” familiar, you think as the teasing response sounds smoothly and you can’t help the way your body seems to stiffen at the sound— like instinct. you look up and there’s a warm sort of squeeze on your heart at the crystalline gaze that looks back, cheeky grin in place.

you should’ve expected to see him here after all, gojo satoru had always been a constant in your past, up until a few years ago. he was your now ex-boyfriend after all.

he always had this air that seemed to follow him around — this noble sort of presence but he was even more handsome now, unfortunately. he’d grown a little more in height but he filled it out better now. his hair is longer but his gaze is just as pretty, as breathtaking when it meets yours.

you’re pretty sure if this were a movie there’d be a trail of women at gojo’s feet — back of their hand against their forehead and fawning for his attention.

you can still recall the nights you cried on your kitchen floor for him.

“hey, after all these years, you’re getting shy on me?” you didn’t realise you’d zoned out until you blink up to see gojo looking at you, teasing tone and his long fingers flicking gently at your forehead until you’re sending him a cute frown. he remembers that look all too well.

“no, shutup! i just didnt expect to see you.” you fall back into the dynamic quickly, like he’d never left— both of you parted ways gradually you think. it’s not that the love wasn’t there, but you just felt like your life had taken you down separate paths.

gojo satoru was your right person, wrong time is what you’d tell strangers at parties.

“are you sure? it seems you had an attack planned for my arrival, pretty suspicious i’d say.” he goads, teasing you again and you roll your eyes before you’re shoving playfully at his chest.

“you’re still so annoying.”

“hm? are you just embarrassed i figured you out? did you really think you could catch me off guard with a move like that?” you wish you could say you hate gojo, truly. but it’s been years and instead you realise that it’s quite the opposite, because he’s already got you laughing like you’re both teenagers again.

sometimes you wish you’d known him sooner, even just so you could love him longer than you can now.

“yeah right, i could totally beat you if i tried.” you laugh again, teasing as a cheeky grin settles on your expression and gojo squeezes at your shoulder playfully before you’re both finding yourself returning to the group. but the laughter doesn’t falter.

“you want a beer, satoru?” your friend asks as you both enter the lounge and you cast the snowy haired man to your right a glance before he answers. he won’t take one, he never was a drinker.

“nah, aren’t i fun enough already? it wouldn’t be fair.” he jokes, you all laugh. like old times.

the night continues and you catch yourself looking in your ex boyfriends.. in gojo’s direction a little more frequently than you’d like to admit. but you’re having fun, you realise as you all exchange jokes— even going as far as to pull up videos from your old phones, little vlogs from your days at the beach, shopping trips and more.

you breathe again, nestling back into your place on the couch as the rest of your friends get up to dance to one of your old playlists from a few years ago. you remember it well, like the soundtrack to some coming of age movie.

you allow yourself to look at him once more, to take in the cut of his features— the way his lips still upturn at the corners when he grins and the way he still talks with his hands. you think it’s cute that he still wears his hair down, still doesn’t do the top button of his shirts— you wonder if he still takes four sugars in his coffee.

you feel something twist in your chest with the thought before you look away again. you think it’s embarrassing in a way, the way you’re wanting must show when you look at him. maybe it’s because you already know the feel of his hand on yours or the soft voice he’d always use to call you out of sleep, the taste of his coffee on his lips when he’d kiss you as the sun woke up.

you liked the now, but then you remember how gojo satoru loved you and it’s like you’re aching all over again.

you breathe deep before the couch cushion to your left sinks as someone sits down and you know it’s him when it grounds you.

“you’re not dancing, gojo?” you begin before he can say anything, giggle despite the turmoil in your mind, your heart, and he sends you a soft sort of look before he chuckles.

“oh no, after all those times you told me i was a terrible dancer? it broke my heart so much, i’ll never dance again.” still a drama queen, you think to yourself as you watch him press his palm to his chest — throwing his head back against the back of the couch as he sighs.

“yeah right, you had a great dance partner to level you out back then though.” gojo laughs at that one, nudging his thigh into yours slightly when he does, but neither of you seem to pull away at the touch.

he settles down and you let the silence hang in the space where you both take a breath before he speaks again,

“satoru is fine, you know. i was always satoru to you, no?” gojo questions gently, although still trying to make it more lighthearted than awkward, and you feel the tension leave your shoulders when you exhale.

“okay then, satoru.” comes more naturally than you’d like to admit, but you’re not ashamed of it either when you notice the soft sort of glow in gojo’s eyes when you speak it with fondness.

he looks at you, nods like he’s smug, then pushes himself up to stand. emphasising how tall he is as he sends you a cheeky sort of grin, followed by his arm outstretching to offer you his hand.

“well oh great dance partner, i may need your expertise. you wouldn’t want me to embarrass my handsome self infront of all our old friends, would you?” gojo whines playfully as he bows towards you, free hand on his heart like he’s begging you for his life.. just his pride this time though.

“‘toru..” you begin, a soft sort of breathe and you wonder if he can hear the hope in it— your own hand twitching by your side.

“come on, for old times sake. you said it yourself, i cant dance without my partner there to lead me, right?” gojo satoru had always been terribly convincing, you realise as you recall all the other moments he’d whisked you off into other great things. memories that you still look fondly back on now.

“fine, for old times sake, satoru.” you finally answer before your hand is resting on his, noticing that is palm still feels warm when he pulls you to your feet.

for the love that once was, and the love that remains. 

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[tightjeansjavi]

Hi!! Love your writing!! Can you write a cowboy fetish joel miller with boot riding 🥺🥺

Hi nonnie! Thank you for sending this in! It scratched my brain just ✨right✨ and I hope it does the same for you! I couldn’t just do some boot ridin’ without some plot ;) enjoy 🤠

Dinner & Diatribes

~word count: 3.7k~

Pairing | Cowboy/bounty hunter! Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you’re the kind of love that Joel Miller has been dreaming of all his life

Warnings: smut,fluff, angst, cowboy in shining armor vibes, unprotected piv, boot ridin! dick slingin, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, implied age gap, dom/sub vibes, sir/mister kink, implied abuse (not by Joel) Joel is a bounty hunter during the Wild West, reader is a runaway bride wanted for murdering three men, filthy language, pining, protective! Joel, assumed unrequited love, swearing, AU that might not 100% be historically accurate but I tried! reader has no physical descriptions such a skin tone or body type, readers nickname is Chickadee, +18 minors dni! Let me know if I missed anything!

Joel Miller knows that keeping a bounty for himself ain’t the way to go about things..he knows that there’s consequences for his actions, an imminent problem would surely arise if he didn’t bring you back to the town you fled from. Wanted for the murders of three men. A wild untamable thing on the run is how the sheriff described you to Joel. And the most important detail of all; I don’t care if you bring her back alive, or in pieces.

And then Joel found you, tracked your trails for miles and miles through the barren rough terrain of the Wild West. You didn’t even put up a fight when you heard the distinct sound of thundering hooves drawing nearer and nearer. You were exhausted, dehydrated, and on the verge of collapsing to the dusty earth while vultures circled ahead.

This didn’t mean you gave up entirely when Joel Miller had you circled, cornered and lasso at the ready. That’s when he took notice of your state, your attire. A once glittering wedding dress now hanging on by threads of shredded fabric. The bottom tooled fabric was now a dirty sand color, blending in with the dirt. Remnants of your eye makeup cracked and stained beneath your eyes and cheekbones that were once painted in a pretty pigment.

He watched from the saddle of his horse as you sank down to your knees, awaiting your inevitable fate to be delivered. “Have you come to turn me in, Mister?”

His head cocked to the side, eyes studying your vulnerable form intently. You couldn’t see his face as it was obstructed from your view with a tied bandana, but even from where you sat on your knees, you could see that his eyes were a deep shade of brown, dark and mysterious.

He dismounted his horse swiftly, silently, boots tearing up dusty patches of earth with each heavy step he took. The spurs on the back of his boots chimed through the air as he stopped in front of you. His broad frame casted a shadow over your kneeling form. His hands were encased in worn leather, and he smelled of tobacco smoke, saddle soap, and musk.

He crouched down, hat tipping forward while one leather clad hand reached for your jaw, thumb brushing across your skin as he tilted it upwards, forcing you to look into his eyes. He saw your grime and dried blood stained face up close. Your eyes flickered nervously as he turned your head to the side.

“Ain’t you gonna get on with it and turn me in? What’re you draggin’ this out for, huh? You caught me, mister. Go and collect your fuckin’ reward.” You spat defiantly into the dirt, a glob of salvia landing on the toe of his boot.

His grip tightened around your chin, jaw ticking sharp like a knife, eyes narrowing in on your face and the subtle wobble of your severely cracked and dry lower lip.

“What happened to you?” He finally spoke. His voice reminded you of fire crackling, ominous thunder and heavy rain. Thick, gravelly, deeper than the Grand Canyon itself.

“What’s it matter if I tell ya, huh? You gonna take pity on me or somethin’ mister?”

He was silent again, appearing deep in thought as he continued to study your face, searching through the grime and dirt for any clues..then, he saw it; The eyes of someone that suffered abuse. His grip around your chin softened

“Stand up.” He commanded.

You struggled to your feet, confusion etched in your features, the obvious sway in your step before two strong hands grabbed your shoulders to steady you.

“We’ll have to move fast.”

“What’re you—” You were still confused, head spinning from his words and malnourishment.

“I don’t turn in folks that killed outta self defense, Chickadee. And certainly not a woman that killed her abusers.” He gave you a curt, tight nod. “Better you than I cause I woulda tied those sons a bitches up and dragged them through the fuckin’ desert.” He rasped.

“You’re..not turnin’ me in?”

“No. Ain’t morally right for me t’do so.” He said softly.

And that’s how you ended up riding through the countryside with Joel Miller to protect you. You’d patch up his shiners, his wounds, keep his belly full with hearty stews that kept him strong and alert. You’d clean his gun, shine his leather till you could see your reflection in the fabric. And in return, he protected you. He never asked for any sexual favors, or for your hand. He viewed you as his equal, his partner.

It hurt sometimes, to flirt with the man you owed your life to and for him to brush your attempts off everytime. As if you were a pesky horsefly, or insignificant gnat. Yet, you couldn’t help it. Joel was handsome, ruggedly so and you’d often find yourself fantasizing about kissing him, feeling his fingers touch you in places you craved to be touched in. To feel his caress on your skin, the bite of his leather, the scrape of his scruffy beard. The stretch of his cock inside of your wet cunt.

You were driving yourself mad with want for a man that didn’t want you back, or so you assumed that was to be the case.

That couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Joel Miller was on the edge to finally just give in when he caught you one night with your skirts hiked above your thighs with your boot clad feet firmly planted in the dirt. Under the pale glow of the moonlight above, and the glittery shining stars, he could see your hand between your thighs, touching yourself and moaning his name.

It felt wrong to watch you, to invade your privacy and your modesty. But he’d be damned if he’d go another night without feeling the hug of your pussy around his aching cock. Or to feel the taste of your kissable lips on his tongue. Damned. Damned. Damned. Fuck, he couldn’t survive another second without knowing what it was like to be loved by you.

For years he had pushed you away despite knowing the pain it caused both you and him. A man could only last so long pretending to not love a woman that he’d throw his life down for in a heartbeat. That’s the kinda love Joel Miller had been dreaming of all his life.

Your head snapped at the sound of a twig snapping behind you as your hand stilled between your thighs. Your heartbeat rattled wildly in your rib cage at the fear and excitement of being caught.

Oh, please. Please let tonight be the night.

“Don’t stop on my account, Chickadee.” He drawled deeply before stepping closer to where you sat.

The heat rushed to your cheeks like a wildfire spreading, your stomach clenched inwards as you began to touch yourself once more, eyes staying locked on his own.

When he was close enough, you used his shins for support as you rubbed your swollen clit in tight, fast circles.

“No.” He shook his head. “Slower. Take your time, darlin.’ There ain’t no rush. Let me see you.” He rasped, before slowly sinking into the dirt behind you. His strong thighs corralled your own almost possessively as his hands gently grasped the hem of your skirts, pulling them up higher. You felt the brush of his beard against your cheek when his chin came to rest along your shoulder. “Nice and slow for me.”

“I’m—sorry, Joel.” You whispered ashamedly through the cool darkness of the desert night. You slowed your fingers, dragging them through the building slick that pooled between the seam of your cunt.

“Sorry for what, Chickadee? Sorry for touchin’ yourself? For moanin’ my name? Why would you be sorry for that?..” His deep tone sent sparks flying through your body as you leaned back into his strong chest.

“Because—you don’t want me, and this is wrong for me to do. To touch myself and moan a man’s name that doesn’t desire me the way I desire him.” A whimper was clawing up your throat, begging to be released, but you wouldn’t allow it.

He dropped the fabric of your skirts briefly only to dip his hand between your thighs and place his massive palm over the top of your hand, guiding your fingers over your clit once more. “This man desires you plenty, Chickadee. I was only tryin’ to protect your modesty..and our hearts.” He whispered against your ear, lips ghosting across your exposed skin. “Been wantin’ to love you all these years we’ve spent together.” He admitted. “I’m a terrible, rotten man for keepin’ you starved this long..” he trailed off, pressing open mouthed kisses at the spot where your jaw met your neck. “M’sorry.”

Those were the last words you ever expected a fucking bounty hunter to whisper..let alone to you?

A shuddered breath slipped past your parted lips, just for him. Your head lolled to the side, granting him easier access as your lashes fluttered shut. “I’ve felt like..such a fool, Joel. A dirty little fool for a bounty hunter.” You took your lower lip between your teeth, biting down harshly and drawing blood to the surface. You let him take full control of your hand, letting him guide and manipulate your fingers to play with yourself just right.

“Shh..I know now, Chickadee. M’sorry, truly. But I’m here now, ain’t I? M’here. Here forever if you’ll have me. I understand if I've bruised and neglected your heart far too many times..I can accept your rejection if it is coming.”

You could detect the edge of sadness in his tone, the acceptance already settling into his bones and heart.

“Joel, please kiss me.” You nearly begged him, dying to finally know what his lips would feel like on your own.

“Why didn’t ya just say that sooner, Chickadee.” He chuckled. “I wish ya woulda just grabbed me by the breeches years ago and knocked some sense into my thick skull. Woulda taken your ache away a long time ago, darlin.’” He said in a hushed whisper. “But I know you were afraid..can’t blame ya for that. Not really. ‘Specially since I ain’t the nicest of men to come by.”

He was taking too long, and you were an impatient woman.

“Joel.” You huffed, fighting the urge to curse him out before you decided to take matters into your own hands, finally. Tomorrow was never promised, not when you and Joel were constantly on the run.

He kept rambling on until he felt the soft touch of your fingertips brushing against the patches in his scruffy beard and the magnetic pull drawing him in closer, closer till he could taste your mingled breath on his lips.

Here in the middle of the desert, with nothing but the moon and stars as a source of light, you finally knew what it was like to kiss Joel Miller. You learned his lips quickly, liking that they were both soft and a bit chapped. As you licked slowly into one another’s mouths you could taste the faint remnants of tobacco on his tongue. It was a bruising kiss, one that both ignited the fire deep within you, and sent a delicious tingle curving down your spine.

So, this is what the girls back home were all talking about. Being kissed by a real man.

And then you found yourself straddling him in the dirt, saying fuck all to your modesty because you had never wanted a man more than you did now. And you wished that your mother could see you now. To see what her perfect little daughter had turned into.

Fuck you, mother. Fuck you for forcing me to marry that monster.

Joel brought you back down to earth with both his lips and his words tattooed on your skin. He caged you with his body, acting as a shield from the chilly night ear that sent goosebumps rising.

He worked your blouse open, growing more frustrated by the minute when the clasps wouldn’t automatically give. He was desperate to feel more of you, all of you because he knew then that you were his, and he was yours. And if you’d end up being the death of him, so be it. At least he could go out being loved rather than unloved.

“You gonna fuck me now, mister? Gonna take what belongs to you, Joel?” You mumbled against his lips in a chasing kiss, growing more desperate as the seconds ticked by.

“Gonna do more than that, Chickadee.” He rasped. This was a promise, and a man such as Joel always kept his promises.

The howl of a Coyote far off in the distant sent uneasy nerves rolling through you, because the realization hit you then that you and Joel were out in the fucking wilderness, and you suddenly felt bare and exposed.

“Jus’ a coyote, doll. He’s singin’ to the moon. We’re safe here, I promise. Ain’t ever gonna let somethin’ happen to you again, Chickadee.” His strong calloused, yet gentle hands came to cup for your face. His deep brown eyes met yours through the pale glow of the moonlight casted over your faces. “I swear on my life, you will always be safe with me.”

and while the lone coyote sang his song to the moon, Joel Miller had you singing your own song, just for his ears too.

After that night spent together, you never had a night where you slept alone. Joel was always there. Holding you, kissing you, fucking you into a blissful state.

He still feared for your safety, and you feared for his. This would never change, but you refused to live in fear for the rest of your life.

It was a boiling hot day under the blazing desert sun. You and Joel were moving west towards California. Hearing about the gold rush there sounded like as good of an opportunity as any. Not even just for the gold, but the prospects of a new life. Joel had dreams of owning a ranch, sheep specifically and living out his days with you by his side.

“Come join me for a swim, cowboy.” You were sitting side by side under the one single tree along the river's edge. Your two horses were drinking their fill after traveling for days in these conditions.

Your cowboy had his arms crossed behind his head, biceps bulging under the thin fabric of his shirt. His hat was tipped down over his head. You only witnessed Joel being fully relaxed on a few occasions where he would let his guard down for just mere minutes.

“Mmm. That’s alright, doll. Y’go on and enjoy yourself.” He said with a lazy sigh.

“Just a quick one together? Please?” You reached over and gently lifted the brim of his hat just enough so you could see his closed eyes.”

“Chickadee..” he said in a low warning tone, peeking one eye open to look up at you before he shut it once more.

“You’re no fun.” You huffed while releasing your gentle grip on his hat.

“M’plenty fun, doll. I gotta keep watch, anyway. Can’t do that if I’m stark naked in the river with ya. What if someone tries to sneak up? Won’t have my gun at arms reach.” He sighed.

“I know, Joel.”

Maybe when we get to California..he won’t have to worry about all of that.

He sat up turning his body to face you before his palm came to rest upon your cheek in a gentle caress. His thumb brushed across your lower lip, tugging it down gently before he leaned in and kissed you sweetly. “Now go on and cool off, Chickadee.”

You kissed him back with the same amount of sweetness before you pulled away and gave his nose a light boop. His face scrunched inwards before he reached around and gave your ass a light and playful swat that sent you giggling as you rose to your feet.

You shot him a seductive wink before you raced down to the river's edge, kicking up a cloud of dirt with your boots.

Joel watched from afar with a hooded gaze as you stripped down from your skirts and blouse followed by your unlaced boots. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself when your one boot wouldn’t give right away and you nearly tripped before finally getting it off. He kept watch as you dove into the crystal clear waters and reameraged moments later.

He reached into his pack, pulling out an apple and pocket knife while you splashed around like a kid on Christmas. He cut off a small slice before biting it off on the edge of the knife, chewing thoughtfully as he leaned back against the sturdy tree.

When we get to California..I’m going to marry her.

He didn’t want to end your fun so soon..but it was time to get moving again. He brought his thumb and forefinger into his mouth, whistling to let you know that it was time to pack up.

You had been floating peacefully on your back with your eyes closed when you heard his whistle that immediately tore you from your daydream state.

He was just about to stand up from where he was resting against the tree when you emerged from the river. You reminded him of a goddess. Bare, beautiful, skin sprinkled in water droplets that were kissed by the sun. You looked unreal, and he was the luckiest man alive.

“C’mon, Chickadee. We gotta head out.” He called for you when you were within earshot.

“I’m coming!” You bent down to gather up your clothes before the idea struck you. “Can I dry off first, please?”

He let out a grumbled sigh before he ultimately nodded his head in agreement. A few more minutes couldn’t hurt..

“Jus’ till ya dry off, doll.”

With your clothes and boots gathered up in your bare arms, you approached him casually, setting everything down on your nearby saddle while he watched you with piqued curiosity.

“I was thinking about you out there..laying on my back and feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin..” you trailed off.

“Is that so? Hmm..what were you thinkin’ about, Chickadee?” His eyes slowly trailed down your bare body. From the swell of your breasts, down your tummy and thighs and what lay between them.

“Want to take a guess, cowboy?” You asked teasingly.

His brow raised as a grin tugged along the corner of his lips. A game is what you were playing, and he was the willing participant.

“Based on your tone, I’m gonna guess it’s got somethin’ to do with..my cock?” He wiggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner while his hand casually came to rest between his own thighs. Oh, he was playing alright.

“Mmm..perhaps I was thinkin’ of ridin’ your cock right under the shade of this tree..but that would be too obvious, Joel.” Your eyes drifted down to where his hand was before the traveled down the expanse of his strong thighs and ending at the toe of his leather boots.

He caught onto your drift almost immediately and you saw his pupils begin to darken. “Y’wanna ride my boot? Is’that it? Well, ain’t you a filthy thing, Chickadee. You wanna get ‘em all shined up for me? Drag that sweet cunt of yours over them?”

His eyes stayed locked on yours in a challenging stare while he palmed himself through his pants to relieve the growing tension.

“I do, sir. I really, really, really want to ride your boot.” You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks because never in your wildest dreams did you expect to take part in debauchery such as this.

“On your knees then, girl. Kiss ‘em for me.” He fell right into character with a flip of a switch.

You found yourself lowering onto your knees without a care in the world about the dirt while you bent down over his boots, pressing a kiss to the leather, dragging your tongue down the stitched seam.

“That’s it, doll. Get ‘em nice and shined up for me.” He said while popping the button on his pants open and pulling his cock free from the confines.

“You gonna touch yourself while I ride your boot, mister?” You were sitting upright again before you crawled closer, letting your hands rest along his thighs as you positioned yourself right above his left boot. The imprint of your kiss had already begun to dry from the scorching heat.

“Yeah, doll. I’m gonna fist my cock while you ride my boot like the dirty Chickadee that you are.” He spat into his palm before he wrapped his fist around the base of his cock just as you lowered yourself over the expanse of his boot, taking your lip between your teeth when you dragged your clit right across the smooth leather.

“Fuuck me. Ain’t that a sight. Look at you, fuckin’ filthy girl. S’feel good, Chickadee?”

You rolled your hips forward slowly at the rate that he was pumping his fist. A soft whimper slipped past your lips while your eyes stayed locked on his.

“Feels so good, mister. So—so good.” You moaned freely with each steady roll of your hips, chasing that high. Nothing would ever compare to Joel’s cock. You knew this, he knew this, and you also were aware that this little game would only last so long.

And then he watched you lose yourself completely on his boot with each roll and grind of your hips against the dampened leather. Crying out his name, nails digging into his covered thighs, head thrown back, tears nearly flooding your eyes.

He had the same sense of urgency and realization that nothing would ever compare to the warm hug of your pussy around his cock. That’s when the game ended as his strong arms came to lift you into his lap by your thighs. His lips met yours in a bruising kiss filled with intermingled moans and teeth clashing together when he finally slipped into your warmth.

California could wait a little longer, he wanted to savor this moment for as long as it lasted because now he had the love that he had been dreaming of all his life. Right here in his arms, cock buried to the hilt under the shade of this very tree. Right here with his Chickadee.

That’s the kinda love I’ve been dreaming of

banners made by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

I no longer do tag lists so please follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic notifications and updates!

[violettwrites]

company of misfits — tp!daryl

a/n: thank u nonnie for sending this request in !! i absolutely love writing the tp!trio honestly, their banter is some of the best. even when reader is in a bad mood 🥺

i hope you enjoyed, and i hope i did your request justice ! if you guys did enjoy, please don’t forget to like, reblog, and/or comment, and give me a follow if you want to see more of my work ! i always appreciate the support ! and as always, my ask box is open ! i will link it below

summary: reader has a bad day, and the dixon brothers know just how to make it more bearable.

requested: anon requested; hii dear!! could you write some fluff in the tp!daryl au, where reader has a bad day and is in a very bad mood, and the brothers notice that and try to cheer them up? (they have no idea what to do but they are trying their best)

word count: 1,011

warnings: swearing, alcohol

resources: divider by @/adornedwithlight

➵ masterlist

➵ ask box

you trudged up the dirt path through the trailer park, the weight on your shoulders from the day hanging heavy as you made your way towards your trailer. the sun was high in the afternoon sky— and having just worked a ridiculously long shift at the local diner, you were just done with the day; even though it wasn’t over yet.

as you neared your trailer, you noticed the dixon brothers outside theirs, beers in hand as they chatted lazily. daryl was the first to notice you, his blue eyes immediately trained on your figure. he noticed how your shoulders were slumped, your face showed no emotion, and he could just tell you had a shit day. he had seen that look on you before. merle, oblivious as ever, was busy recounting some story from his time in lockup. but daryl nudged him with his foot, nodding his head towards your figure as you made your way into your trailer— praying your dad wasn’t home, because that would just add to the mountain of shit on your shoulders.

both daryl and merle stood up and made their way towards your trailer, letting themselves in. they knew your dad wasn’t home, because they had seen him leave earlier in his old pickup. where he had gone? they didn’t bother to ask, because why would they speak to a piece of shit like him. your head turned when you heard the door open, spotting the two dixon brothers, and the corner of your lips quirked ever so slightly. you enjoyed their company, but you didn’t really want to be around anyone right now.

“hey, sunshine, what’s eatin’ at ya?” merle was the first to speak— like always —his usual grin plastered across his lips. you didn’t respond, just shrugged your shoulders a little as you plopped onto the couch, head tilting back as you looked at the ceiling. the two brothers followed your lead, sitting down on either side of you, and you internally groaned. they wouldn’t give up until you told them what was wrong.

daryl looked to his brother for guidance, a pointed look on his face as his eyes flickered from merle, to you. “you think i know how to deal with shit like this?” he mouthed back to daryl, and the younger dixon rolled his eyes, directing his attention back to you. he didn’t know how to handle situations like this either. feelings weren’t his strong point.

sighing in annoyance, merle spoke up. “what’s the problem? yer face looks like ya lost a fight with a wasp next.” the analogy made your brows furrow as you looked at merle. he always said some odd shit that you never understood.

“just had a bad day, alright?” you muttered, crossing your arms across your chest as you stared forward, eyes trained on the blank screen of the television in front of you. merle rubbed the back of his neck, looking to daryl for backup this time.

daryl sighed softly, and tried a softer approach. “anything we can do to help?” his voice was quieter, less teasing than his older brother’s.

you shook your head, but the gesture was half-hearted. you didn’t want to burden them with your problems that seemed so large, yet so minuscule at the same time. “not unless you can fix the world in the next five minutes,” you scoffed a little, chewing on your bottom lip.

merle, always the smart ass, grinned widely. “well, darlin’, i ain’t no miracle worker but i could try.”

before you could retort, he disappeared from the living room of your trailer, straight out the door, leaving you and daryl in confused yet curious silence. he watched you figdet with your hands, sensing you were on edge— but he didn’t know how to fix it.

“you don’t gotta talk about it,” he said finally, his voice low, “but you don’t gotta deal with it alone either.”

you looked over at him, wondering when he had become so wise. but there was something earnest in his expression that made your heart soften— just a little. merle returned before you could say anything back though, a bottle of whiskey and a few cups in his hands. “aight, so maybe i can’t fix the world, but i sure as hell can make it go down a bit smoother.”

you watched as he messily poured the liquid into the cups, handing the first one to you as he gave you a wink. “it’s like medicine, but the fun kind.”

you couldn’t help the small smile on your lips, despite yourself. “you think whiskey is gonna solve my problems?” you asked, looking up at him with an amused look.

merle clinked his cup against yours, an eager grin on his lips. “no, but it’ll make ‘em real fuzzy for a bit, an’ sometines that’s all ya need.”

daryl rolled his eyes, but spoke up anyway. “he’s right, y’know? ‘bout makin’ thinks fuzzy.” and you wondered when both of those boys had become so wise in their odd little ways. maybe it was because they knew how to handle bad days without having to confront their issues. they just forgot, in a sense.

for the first time that day, the weight on your shoulders felt a little lighter. it wasn’t the whiskey or the dumb jokes merle kept making, and it wasn’t daryl’s quiet, steady presence at your side. it was all of it together— their clumsy, awkward attempts at cheering you up that actually worked. you took a long drink, feeling the burn of the alcohol chase away that lingering frustration.

“thanks,” you spoke, glancing at the two ot them. “i needed this.”

merle clapped you on the back, grinning like a fool. “that’s what we’re here for, sweetheart! doin the lord’s work, one drink at a time.”

daryl shook his head, but you saw the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. he didn’t need to say anything more. just being there, sitting with you in the fading light, was enough.

[ivystoryweaver]

Stay - Poe Dameron

Poe + First “I love you”

Fall Fluff Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Poe Masterlist

Notes: a little suggestive, tinge of angst-ish Word count: 520 || for this nonnie request

It happened again. Poe spent the night with you.

He came to you weary and worn. Fell into your arms and buried his face in your neck as if you could wrap yourself around him like a blanket.

His mouth sought yours out, hungry and desperate.

You held one another until the suns rose.

"Gotta go soon," he told you, voice husky and eyes roving the contours of your face.

"Stay a little bit longer," you coaxed, twirling your fingers in his soft curls.

His eyes fluttered closed, even as he reluctantly untangled his limbs from the safety of your embrace. "You don't know what that does to me."

You knew exactly what it did to him.

"How long will you be gone this time?"

Sitting up on the edge of the bed, he pulled his shirt over his head, mussing those thick waves you were so obsessed with. You couldn't help yourself, reaching out to smooth the wild strands back into place, gently scratching his scalp with your fingernails.

"Mmm, baby," he groaned, twisting around to tackle you to the bed and cover your lips with his own.

"Stay," you whispered, between kisses. "A little longer."

"It'll never be long enough for you, sweetheart," he teased, gazing down at you adoringly as he brushed his fingertips along the softness of your cheek. "Will you wait for me?"

"I always do."

Satisfied, he kissed you again before climbing out of bed and pulling on the rest of his hastily discarded flight suit.

You watched him prepare to leave you again. To do his duty. To be the best pilot, the best man you'd ever known. He turned back to you with a wistful smile.

"Poe, wait, I - "

Seeing you scurry out of bed, he caught you by the elbows, expecting another plea for him to stay, or a joke about him always leaving.

“I…”

“I know,” he nodded, easing his arms around you. The two of you silently swayed, savoring these precious few moments alone.

He kissed you again before activating the door, which opened with a whoosh.

You mean so much to me.

I need you

I’m yours

It doesn’t matter how long you’re gone, I’ll always be waiting for you.

There were a thousand ways you could utter the feelings swelling in your heart, but they all stuck in your throat.

As if he could read every thought inside you, Poe lingered a moment longer. “Your room is kind of small.”

“What?” You laughed at his unexpected comment.

“It’s smaller than mine.”

“Fine, we’ll use yours next time, Commander.”

He smirked. “I’ll help you move your stuff when I get back.”

Your heart stopped. Did he mean…

“Don’t say no,” he sweetly whispered, reaching for your hands. “You know my bed is softer.”

“And bigger,” you giggled.

“Say yes,” he breathed against your lips.

“Yes,” you whispered as his lips met yours.

He finally made it out your door, a confident swagger in his walk. “Hey,” he called back over his shoulder, turning around so he could look at you one more time. “I love you.”

Fall Fluff Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Poe Masterlist

[sweetfushi]

Hi there!! I would like to request akaashi, iwa, and kenma x reader when he caught reader simping about him to her friends eventhough they haven’t date yet..

🏕anon

HE CATCHES YOU TALKING ABOUT HIM.

fluff | keiji akaashi, hajime iwaizumi, kozume kenma x reader, mentions of a breakdown but nothing happens | word count. 1.9k ◦ notes. my first named nonnie :o

KEIJI AKAASHI.

“I’ve only ever seen him in two places; in class and in the school gym. I’ve never actually interacted with him in either one,” you admit sheepishly to your friends, who are giggling and smacking you in excitement.

“No stop! We’ve talked to him before because we know Bokuto, he’s actually super sweet! He’d totally like you if he doesn’t already– if you just talk to him!”

You practically swoon at the idea, your squeals alongside the similarly high-pitched noises of your friends reverberating through the school’s backfield. Initially you had gathered after class to have snacks and talk after school, but that turned into intense fangirling and wingwoman-ing.

“He’s so cute I could just- agh,” you whine, rubbing your palms on your eyes as you pout at the near certainty of never being able to be with him. He’s so out of your league; playing for the school’s volleyball team, being friends with one of the most popular guys in school, having the calm demeanour that practically every girl looks for in a man. If he wasn’t seeing someone already, you likely still wouldn’t be in his list of romantic options.

Alongside the aforementioned and your lack of spatial awareness, you’re entirely oblivious to the person approaching the bench you’re sitting on, until one of your friends has to grab your face to make you stop talking - stop talking about the very person who’s now observing you curiously. You don’t take the hint until you hear Akaashi clear his throat from behind you and bend down to pick up the volleyball that landed by your feet.

“Sorry about that.”

“O-Oh,” is all he receives from you in response, to which he smiles kindly. A smile that has you inches away from bursting into tears about how much you miss someone who isn’t yours.

He eyes you once more before jogging back to the corner in which he and Bokuto appeared to be practising, your eyes following him as he did so and observing his every jog and step.

Following that interaction, your group falls silent for a few seconds, until you slam your head onto the bench table and let a muffled scream rip from your throat - enough to express your humiliation but also keep it among your friends, unlike your previous conversation.

“Kill me, I can’t ever look that man in the eyes again. Do it now, quick and painless while I’m not ripping my hair out.”

One of your friends snorts out a laugh and smacks the top of your head. “Girl, as if you could ever look that man in the eyes. Don’t worry about it, he was smiling.”

At that, your head snaps up and you launch yourself across the bench until your face is centimetres away from your friend’s. “Was he really? Don’t lie to me, I didn’t see him smiling.”

She shakes her head. “That’s because you were too busy wallowing in your self-pity and staring at us to realise. He walked off like he got the biggest birthday present of his life.”

And as told, Akaashi had jogged back to Bokuto with a massive grin, rather uncharacteristic of the man who typically - at most - cracked an amused smile. Thus, when Bokuto sees him coming back with such an expression, the ball becomes the last of his concerns. He leans over to observe Akaashi closely, humming curiously.

“Did something happen?”

“Ah, nothing really. Don’t worry about it.”

“Akaashi.”

“Bokuto.”

The owl-like man groans and snatches the ball in mock frustration, to which Akaashi chuckles and gently pats him on the back. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to inform anyone that he’d started grinning at the mere sound of you giggling about the prospect of interacting with him.

HAJIME IWAIZUMI.

For the past ten minutes, you and your friends had entered a routine of squealing about the prospect of being Iwaizumi’s lover and shushing each other when the excitement became too loud. Eventually, it reached a point where the latter was no longer done - no one was supervising the volume of your swooning and dreaming.

“He’s so dreamy,” you sigh, resting your right cheek on your right fist.

“And jacked, I mean he could probably pick you up easily,” one of your friends comments, waggling her eyebrows and laughing at the drastic change of colour in your face.

You’ve interacted with Iwaizumi a few times, enough to classify him as a friend, but not enough that you’d expect to see him frequently or even anticipate him thinking about you. In actuality, the man doesn’t go a day without you crossing his mind, to the point where he starts questioning where the hell he developed his interest for you from. That’s not to say you’re not an intriguing person, just that he hadn’t had a serious conversation with you that wasn’t interrupted by something - whether that was the both of you needing to head to class or Oikawa yelling his name.

“I’m telling you, I’m getting taller, you asshat,” Iwaizumi grumbles to a very tired and sluggish Oikawa.

“And I’m telling you I don’t care whether that’s true or not as long as you’re still a reliable spiker.”

Iwaizumi smacks the top of his head with a passion so strong it would seem as though the two were words away from killing each other.

The two continue to walk through the school’s lengthy corridors until they approach the gym’s open doors. A message was sent out to the Seijoh team group chat, following which all that came as responses were thumbs up reactions to the message. At least they weren’t ignoring it.

As the two men walk into the gym and toss their bags in a corner, Oikawa can hear chatter and laughter from people other than him and Iwa, sufficient enough to distract him from the impending practice match. After greeting the others and agreeing on a rotation for the game, Iwaizumi’s ears perk up at the sound of his name. He knows it doesn’t come from his lot since they’re too busy stretching to care, so he’s fairly certain it’s coming from the group of girls he can see in the gym’s far other side - the spot reserved for basketball. His interest is only truly piqued when he notices your familiar face.

Though, he can’t just walk over there and question you.

Matsukawa has his hands on the ball, tossing it into the air and catching it. He’s not really paying attention to what Oikawa is babbling about behind him, so Iwaizumi seizes the opportunity and politely asks for the ball from him. Once Matsukawa hands it over with a heavy sigh prior, Iwaizumi practically launches it to the other side of the gym.

“Oikawa, you absolute trash,” Iwaizumi grumbles with faux annoyance before jogging over to get the ball, providing him with enough of a chance to get within your close proximity and overhear your conversation.

“Iwa’s so hot. I need him as mine so so bad. I die every time he talks to me.”

“That is highly concerning,” Iwaizumi intercepts into the conversation after retrieving the ball, to which you scream and slap your hands over your mouth as if you were caught leaking confidential information (which isn’t too far from the truth).

Your friends are gaping and avoiding eye contact with both you and Iwa in an attempt to appear apathetic to the whole situation, something they fail at tremendously.

“T-That was not about you,” you sputter.

Iwaizumi raises a brow and feigns consideration, though he doesn’t say anything to point out the fact that there is no other Iwaizumi in the school, let alone one that talks to you. “I’d hope not. Wouldn’t want you dead now, hm?”

And that’s all he says before flashing you a knowing smile and heading back to his group.

KOZUME KENMA.

The bell above the door jingles as you step into Ukai’s shop. You wave at him as he lights a cigarette and dusts his hands off on his apron. Other than a sweet treat, you’re not sure what else you want and it certainly doesn’t help that you’re a group call with your friends. As usual, you grab your favourite sweet before starting to survey the shop’s contents; from bread to ramen to buns. All the while, you catch sight of Ukai scrolling uninterestedly on his phone.

“I know he’s quiet but trust me, I’ve seen how he is with Kuroo and he’s just reserved,” you retort to your friends as they question your interest in Kenma. “Shut up, I know you guys have all met and talked to him, you know how he is,” you laugh. They all have chemistry together and always tell you about how depressed the blond looks in class.

“Heeey, boss. Heard you’ve taken’ on Karasuno. We’re headed over there now and I wanted to give ya’ my condolences,'' you hear Kuroo tell Ukai, followed by a loud exhale from the latter. Where there’s Kuroo, there’s usually Kenma, so you instantly tense up and feel self-conscious about your appearance and the way you carry yourself.

“If this game is a waste of my time you’re buying dinner,” Kenma finally grumbles.

You feel your heart pound faster and a squeal bubble in your throat. It’s ironic that his tone is that of disinterest yet you’re so very interested in the smoothness of it.

“Guys, he’s here right now,” you whisper into the mic of your earphones.

“No way!”

“Is Kuroo with him? Tell him I said hi!”

“Just your luck, huh?”

You try to tune their comments out in an attempt to steady your breathing before they turn to the aisle you’re in and catch you having a near-breakdown. You’ve never really talked to Kenma one-on-one, Kuroo has always been there. Not that you have anything against the charismatic captain - and it’s not as if you have the courage to talk to Kenma alone. That was slightly juxtaposing in that little to no courage is required to talk to someone who’s of little words.

You finally catch sight of him getting what appears to be his usual, considering how fast he locates the items and tosses them into the basket Kuroo is holding. You continue to walk down the aisle you’re in, in search of a new drink to try.

“Guys, Kenma likes the same pie I do. We’re so meant to be together,” you giggle into the mic, to which your friends sigh and verbally reprimand you for your delusional theories.

“Excuse me.”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice behind you, but move out the way. Kenma grabs one of the drinks he’s eyeing and surveys it in his hand. When he glances at you, his eyes widen to attention. “Hey, it’s you.”

Smiling awkwardly, you nod. “Yeah.”

“Were you just talking about me? I heard my name.”

“Huh,” you say dumbfoundedly, before acknowledging the fact that Kenma had just heard you giggle about your mutual taste for apple pies. “Oh, u-uh, I just noticed that we like the same pies.”

He nods, convinced that you were simply talking to yourself and not giggling to your friends about how in love you are with him. “Have you tried this drink? I don’t know if it’s good,” he asks you.

You’re still a bit dumbfounded by the whole situation and he notices, which is why he waves a hand in your face and calls your name. All you register is that Kuroo now approaches behind him and snickers knowingly at your expression.

“Oh, blondie, you’re so oblivious.”

“Huh? To what?”

“Exactly.”

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post. all that is included in this post, aside from the photos, fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

[hariboz]

PROMISE ME…!

“when you don’t tell your boyfriend you’re sick and still perform!”

pairing: idol!bf!ricky x gn!idol!reader

genre: fluff, tiny angst (?)

warning: mention of headaches, blurry vision, nausea and similar symptoms, softie bf!ricky, that’s it i think?

notes: ty to nonnie for requesting this!! i got a little carried away but i got into a pretty good flow writing it so i hope you enjoy 🥹🫶🏻 also!! this is my first time writing idol!reader so i hope it feels somewhat realistic…? as realistic as it can be i guess 😵‍💫

word count: 1.8k (😵‍💫 how and why…)

five, six, seven, eight.

five, six, seven, eight.

five, six, seven—

“y/n, are you okay?” the voice of your leader rips you out of your trance, your tired eyes meeting in the mirror. you nod and put on a bright, although fake smile in hopes of being reassuring, though you’re not sure you were being all too convincing — either way, none of your members pry, because they understand. they understand the need to push through, especially now with all these end of the year award shows happening; you simply can’t afford to be sick, to fall behind and to be absent from such huge events. so, you decide to push through the dizziness, nausea and pain. you’ll take some medication later, it’ll be fine. (at least that’s what you’re telling yourself when you catch yourself stumbling from the dizziness when you get ready to practice your solo entrance.) even though there is a silent understanding between you and your members, there still is one person you know you won’t be able to convince, no matter how hard you’ll try — your boyfriend and professional overthinker in regards to your well-being, ricky.

it’s quite cute, the juxtaposition of his public image and the way he tends to worry. did you eat? does your throat hurt from vocal practice? did you trip during dance practice again? (a question that’s especially annoying considering you told him about tripping once, roughly six months ago. he refuses to let it go.) he sends you teas and throat sprays to make sure your voice is taken care of, secretly checks the soles of your shoes to make sure they aren’t getting slippery, somehow manages to pack you little snacks you can munch on when you haven’t eaten anything before practice again. he’s very rarely stern, much too soft-spoken and gentle towards you to speak to you in a more serious manner when he’s worried, so he shows his care and love through these things — which makes you feel all the more guilty when you straight up have to lie to him when he asks if practice is going fine, if you’re feeling well, and letting you know how excited he (along with gyuvin, he mentions) is to see you perform in person up close.

you try your hardest to get better before the performance, you really do. well, as much as you can between hours and hours of practice and barely any sleep, at least. all your efforts seem to be in vain, though, because the day of the performance seems to be the worst day yet — if you had a choice, you would bury yourself under every blanket available and not leave your bed for at least a week, that’s how awful you feel when you and your members are picked up from your dorm during the wee hours of the morning.

unfortunately, the little perfectionistic gremlin that lives at the back of your mind refuses to let all these weeks of practice go to waste, so you muster up a brave smile through your shaking pupils and tell your worrying members that you have everything under control — you’ll smash this performance just like all the other ones, even if you have to do it while being a little dizzy. it’s no big deal, you’re a professional after all.

your stylists is making some last minute adjustments to your outfits when a gentle knock sounds through the room, a very familiar blonde head of hair popping in. you rush over to ricky, his arms snaking around you immediately. “hey, handsome,” you mutter as you observe his face, a small grin playing on his lips. “you’re not looking to bad yourself, hm?” his voice is smooth as he brushes some of your hair out of your face, careful to not interfere with your hairstylist’s hard work. you’re thrown off your balance a little when another dizziness spell hits you out of nowhere, the look on ricky’s face immediately morphing into one of concern, “are you okay?”

you muster up a smile and just nod, eyes blinking rapidly to dispel the black dots bouncing around in your vision, “yeah, i’m just a little nervous,” you reach up to adjust his collar to avoid meeting his worried eyes, “i’m fine. just freaking out a little, that’s all.” you can tell ricky doesn’t entirely believe you, but he trusts that you would come to him if there was something wrong — so he reluctantly lets the subject go. he steals a quick kiss to your lips, whispering a “good luck, i love you.” before he turns to leave to make any last preparations for his own performance.

your first wave of regret overcomes you when you stand ready beneath the stage, you and your members getting into position to perform the intro to your performance. your head feels like it’s about to split and your hands are shaky, but it’s too late to turn back now — as queen sunmi once said, the show must go on.

your second wave of regret comes when you’re actually on stage, all the lights, the music, the screams and your in-ear monitor feeling less like the dream you’ve worked so hard to achieve and more like your own personal hell. your group having your own amazing entrance with one of the stage elevators excited you at first; unfortunately, right now you’re preoccupied with managing your expressions to make sure you won’t let any irritation or discomfort slip.

your third and final wave of regret comes when you stand in the middle of the stage in this massive venue, tens of thousands of eyes on you as you start to perform your solo part of the song — your head is pounding and you can barely hear your own voice through your in-ears anymore, your steps are shaky and imprecise, your vision is blurry. you manage to push through, somehow, but it’s clear in the way your chest is heaving once the lights go out that you’re not well.

the atmosphere is very much tense in the part of the audience where your fellow idols sit, all of them having to cover their very obvious concern with faux excitement — you pulled it off well enough, but it’s clear to every single one of them that you’re sick and that you probably should not have performed. ricky especially has to keep his expressions in check, because the mix of worry and concern but also frustration and maybe a little anger is raging heavily inside him right now.

the worry and concern are obvious, the last thing he wants to see is you being sick, much less performing in that state. the frustration is bubbling inside him because he knows that you know better, that even the chance of you hurting yourself even worse by performing while sick is enough reason to sit out one performance. the anger is entirely directed at your staff and maybe some of your members, your leader at least — they must’ve seen that you were unwell, no? and they still let you on stage? is that not what managers and leaders are for, to take matters into their own hands and to know what’s best for their members? it all comes to a head when your members join the other idols in the audience while you’re nowhere in sight.

ricky is getting restless, his hands sprawling against his dress pants, occasionally pinching the fabric to keep his mind occupied. gyuvin and matthew both gave him little reassuring pats on his back but neither did much to comfort him, his mind entirely preoccupied with worrying about you and counting down the minutes to when he will finally be able to check up on you backstage.

it’s about an hour later when the award show is finally over, and for once ricky is the first one to rush backstage, a little ahead of all of his members. he swerves past staff and security and doesn’t even bother knocking on your group’s dressing room, ripping the door open to find your shocked but still very exhausted eyes staring up at him in surprise, “ricky?”

he’s in front of you in the blink of an eye, squatting down to meet you eye-to-eye, his hands gently cradling your face, “are you okay? for real, this time?” his brows are furrowed and you feel a little bad for thinking that he looks pretty handsome all serious like this. you nod sheepishly, apology ready to spill from your lips when he squishes your cheeks together to silence you, “shhh, you listen to me. never do that again, okay? do you know how scary that was, watching you perform like that? what if something had happened, you know you could’ve—,” he stumbles over his words a little, clearly worked up, “i don’t know, fallen off stage or something. you could’ve fainted! or you could’ve broken something or— i don’t know, just, promise me, don’t do that again.” ricky’s once so stern voice turns soft towards the end again, never really able to keep up his serious tone for long, especially towards you.

“‘m sorry, just didn’t want to let anyone down,” you mumble, leaning into his touch. his cold hands on your face feel incredibly nice, a stark contrast to your feverish face. he sighs and one of his hands comes up to brush your hair away from your face, his hand stroking your head softly, “i know, but still. don’t do stuff like that, okay? talk to someone when you’re not feeling well. your managers, your members, me — there’s so many people you can go to, okay? anyone, as long as you tell someone,” you nod along to him, and maybe it’s the guilt of making him worry so much or the fact that you’re overwhelmed from the amount of affection coming from him while you’re still a little delirious, but you feel like you need to lighten the atmosphere with a little joke.

“even gyuvin?” the gentle expression on his face falls almost immediately, replaced by a very unimpressed stare. you break out into quiet giggles, muttering a “sorry” before pressing a kiss to his cheek. ricky grumbles a little before getting back up, running his hand through your hair gently one last time. “i have to go back now but i’m ordering you some soup to your dorm later. you’re on bedrest for the next few days, you hear me?” he tries to sound stern again and puts on his best serious face, but his façade is broken when you smile up at him so tiredly, the exhaustion clear on your face.

“thank you, i love you,” you call after him when he turns to leave, ricky sending you a flying kiss before leaving the room, “love you too.”

(your fourth wave of regret came when you realised ricky formed an alliance with your members, all of them exchanging “y/n intel” to make sure all of them can keep an eye on you while you’re recovering.)

[pinkmirth]

I think we need some headcanons of cowboy Reiner

— ( save a horse, ride a cowboy! )

༉‧₊˚. — synopsis: just a cluster of fluffy and smutty headcanons for none other than the love of my life, cowboy reiner!

༉‧₊˚. — contains: (2k words of…) cowboy!reiner x fem!reader, (black coded), fluff, nsfw/smut, modern au, southern setting, established relationship (married), fantasies of having a child, breeding kink (‘cause this is reiner we’re talking about duh!), mentions of pregnancy, bondage kink, oral (m!receiving/blowjob), cowgirl position, doggy-style, creampie, reiner calls himself “daddy”, use of the petnames (mama, sugar, darling, honey, cowgirl), reiner calls you “woman” once, lowercase intended, minors shoo!

༉‧₊˚. — mira’s note: oh absolutely, nonnie! here are some thoughts I have on cowboy rei-rei 💕 (check masterlist for other reiner fics!)

this man is always covered head-to-toe in classic cowboy attire— embroidered cowboy boots, blue denim jeans with a lasso hanging from his belt loop, and a trusty old cowboy hat. he’s got the whole getup, and he looks even sexier in it every time you see him! though, his best look by far is the shirtless one. it’s the highlight of your day when whenever it gets too warm outside, because he’s soon to peel off his top. from across the farm, he can feel your eyes burning into his lightly-tanned skin as he does the most mundane chores. his muscles tense and flex with every move, pecs gleaming with sweat. he shoots you a smirk, folding his arms across his bare chest. “y’like what ya see, honey?” you pray the weather’s even hotter tomorrow.

it warms his heart whenever you come around to watch him do his daily chores around the farm. your presence motivates him to work harder, so he can continue to provide for you and sustain your comfortable lifestyle. you try not to be too much of a distraction, but you can’t help wanting to be closer to your husband; so you tug at his leather belt and pull him in for a kiss. that gets him giddy like nothing else. “ya know how much i love it when y’do that… gimme another,” he puckers his lips, and you giggle. “i don’t wanna keep you sidetracked for too long, rei. you were busy before i got here,” you caress his stubbled cheek and he pouts in response, leaning forward to receive another pillowy kiss. “jus’ one more, mama.”

cowboy reiner loves to cook and bake! he often goes on farmer’s market dates with you, walking hand in hand as you help him pick out the freshest ingredients and spices. you chat and laugh amongst one another, dropping carrots and apples into the hand-woven basket that reiner made for you. after arriving back home, he allows you to relax in yours and his shared bedroom while he whips together a hearty southern meal for the two of you. he shouts from across the house, adorned in nothing but a short pair of checkered boxers and a flimsy apron, “supper’s ready, darlin’! come on down ‘n eat!”

he’s great with animals! reiner cradles an adorable month-old horse in his strong arms, feeding milk to the baby with a soft smile. it’s just about the sweetest thing you could ever see! all the little foals follow him around the ranch because they love papa reiner just as much as you do <3 he’s built something of a connection between himself and his beloved herd, which is why he’s able to bring the horses over to their stables with no hassle whatsoever. this man could practically be a veterinarian with all the animal knowledge he has!

he’s a locally known rodeo champion! reiner wins the prize for longest bull-riding every single year. he should allow someone else a fighting chance, at least 😭 but he’s just effortlessly good at anything he puts his mind to! he skillfully rides the beast with such ease, leaving the crowd in awe. courtesy of his natural-born strength, he hardly ever gets tossed off. reiner’s got medals galore hanging on his wall from every competition.

as a southern man, he’s very family-oriented. his loved ones are of the utmost importance to him, and he’ll always put family first before anything else. he utterly adores you, and can’t wait to start a tiny lil family of his own with you <3 when I tell you this man cannot wait to be a papa, I mean it! there’s no denying that reiner would be an amazing father, considering that he’s so caring and attentive. he knows the best tickle spots to target, and the silliest faces to make to get a child cracking up (both of which he discovered through spending lots of time with gabi when she was small.) he constantly daydreams about dressing up his little one in tiny boots and overalls and carrying them up on his shoulders. (yes, I’m pushing the daddy rei-rei agenda on this fine weekend!)

cowboy reiner has manners like none other— the epitome of a true gentleman! he’s a great listener, is always so patient, opens doors for you, pays for your things without hesitation, gives frequent massages, carries you when you begin to feel tired; the list goes on! he’s just so kind and selfless, and never fails to show it. cowboy rei-rei is truly the perfect husband. “your feet hurt? well c’mere, sugar. i’ll carry you. it ain’t too much for me, y’know i can handle ya! jus’ hold onto me. i gotcha, okay?”

cowboy reiner is a grown man who can wholly appreciate your body and every striking detail about it. he scrutinizes the small dotted beauty marks scattered across your skin, your cutely patterned stretch marks, the curves and crevices of your soft tummy and thighs, and he fucking loves it all. makes it a habit to kiss up and down your body, just to give you a well-needed confidence boost. this man right here surely knows how to make a woman feel special! “listen t’me— you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, y’know that?”

(nsfw) — reiner loves when you treat him to a surprise blowie during work. he’s up to the usual, arranging things around the barn and tending to the animals. you then make your entrance, wrapping your arms around his waist to hug him from behind. your plump lips curve into a sensual smile as you ask him, “can I steal you for a moment, baby? it won’t be for too long, I swear it.” in an instant, he's allowing you to pull him away from his duties, unknowing of where you’re taking him, but also uncaring because he’d allow you to do whatever you please. he follows you with the goofiest smile plastered on his charming face, because he knows that he’s about to receive the most knee-buckling blowjob of his entire goddamn life. you bring him into the hayloft, pushing him against the red-painted wall until he’s flat against it. you drop to your knees and bring his jeans down with you. “fuck, darlin’… kiss the tip ‘fa me.” he moans lowly. you do as he wishes, suckling on his cockhead with the most beautiful, glistening eyes. you’re so eager to please, and it makes him throb on your tongue. with a hand at the back of your head, he guides you further onto him until you’ve swallowed the entirety of his fat dick. reiner ruts his hips, fucking into your wet mouth. you always know just how to make him feel so good, so loved. he adores you like nothing else. “oh, that’s it, honey, right there… atta girl.”

(nsfw) — the bondage kink on this man is insane, I tell you! cowboy reiner loves to keep your hands tied behind your back and watch you squirm against the rope. “rei,” in a breathless whine, his name falls from your plush lips. you wiggle your ass in the air for him, anticipating his next move. he takes you from the back, raw-dogging your pussy with a merciless pace. you truly wonder where he gets all this unparalleled energy to drill you into the bed, especially considering all the hard work he puts into maintaining the farm every day. one large hand of his stays planted on your waist, hastily grabbing, while the other holds onto your tied hands for leverage. he delivers harsh, deep-reaching thrusts, with his firm hips sharply smacking against you from behind. your wrists struggle against the rope, and he can tell just how desperate you are to touch him. his gaze is fixated on your soft body; every jiggle of your ass and ripple of your thighs is more hypnotizing than the last. you mewl for him, stuttering out something along the lines of ‘t—too much!’ … reiner leans down until his chest grazes the arch of your back, so that he can say, “quit alla-that whinin’, woman.” he clicks his teeth, flooding your ears with that sexy southern drawl of his. “y’can take it all, you’ve done it before.”

(nsfw) — we all know it, the entire goddamn fandom knows it: cowboy reiner has a massive fucking breeding kink! he wants nothing more than to get you pregnant by stuffing your pliant womb with his thick loads of cum. giving you a creampie makes him go completely wild; he watches his seed drip down your slit with hitched breath. a sight such as that is enough to get him hard all over again. the lust takes over, and he’s thinking with his dick for the next three rounds. plowing into you and rubbing at your puffed clit with calloused fingertips, reiner asks, “want me to come inside you? hm?” he gently holds onto your chin, directing your gaze to him. you dazedly look at your husband, pulsing around his thick cock. seeing how fucked-out you are makes his chest swell with the utmost pride. his greatest achievement is being able to please you. “tell me how bad y’fuckin’ want it, baby.” he rasps. your pleading moans urge him to release for you. his warm, pearly arousal seeps into you for the nth time that night. all he wants is to fill you up until you’re walking funny, with your leg shaking from all the stimulation. or, at least until that little stick comes out positive one day. having you grow plump with his child is his ultimate fantasy. “you’d look so stunnin’ as a mama, carryin’ my baby… don’t’cha think so, sugar?”

(nsfw) — reiner likes to let you wear his cowboy hat while you ride him. mounting onto your husband with your legs on either side of his hips, you straddle him. your dainty hands are planted on his broad chest for balance. he pulls off his iconic hat, hair cutely tousled from wearing it all day, before sitting up to place it on your head. “since you’ll be the one ridin’ tonight. giddyup, cowgirl.” he teases with a slick grin. you tip the hat with a breathy laugh before sinking down on his fat dick, maintaining sharp eye contact with him as your throbbing cunt takes him in little by little, until your clit’s grounded and snug against the dark-blonde tufts of his happy trail. his warm palms rub along your body as you swivel your hips, slamming down on all nine girthy inches that he has to offer. he watches your tits bounce, one manicured hand of yours squeezing at your left boob while the other holds onto his hat that rests upon the crown of your head. you rock back and forth with fervor, and he swears he can feel every spongy ridge of your contracting pussy. he throws his head back onto the pillows and gazes at you with the prettiest set of honey-golden eyes, hooded and lust-blown. gravelly moans fall past his agape lips as he spurs you on, giving your ass a thorough smack, “bounce on it, jus’ like that— yeah, fuck daddy’s cock.”