#i read the name and was like lol it sounds like a dinosaur

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

this might be my favourite logo for anything ever actually

[jobean12-blog]

Wood You Be Mine?

Pairing: Lumberjack!Joel Miller x reader

Word Count: 2,667

Summary: Your work and Grandmother bring you away from the city and into the mountains and you find more than just some peace and quiet.

Author's Note: I'm really enjoying these AU's with Joel! Been fun to explore and he wears enough flannels LOL Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: it's fun and flirty and reader is sassy and Joel is grumpy and it's fluffy and soft too!

Joel Miller Masterlist

After several miles of driving along a bumpy dirt road, the cabin appears. A puffing chimney tops a two-story log house, and red checkerboard curtains line the windows. You park your car in front of the porch. The only other vehicle you see on the property is an old blue pickup truck.

When you step out of the car, a rhythmic pounding echoes from the backyard, somehow in tune with the abundance of sounds from the surrounding woods.

You sneak around the side of the porch hoping to catch a glimpse of your newest client. He’d reluctantly agreed to have his cabin featured in your magazine but only because the story was about eco friendly homes built by their owners.

You round the corner of the house and stop dead in your tracks. You had no idea what the man looked like from the front, but from the back…well you liked what you saw.

His strong arms raise an axe high above his head, then crush it down on a log propped on another stump. The corded muscles of his forearms flex with every movement and his biceps are barely contained by the rolled-up sleeves of his flannel.

Faded and worn blue jeans hug his ass and thick thighs and a pair of scuffed up work boots complete the ensemble. A real-life lumberjack.

He stops momentarily, leaning over to grab a rag, and wipes the handle of the axe. He swings the axe again, splitting the log in front of him, and the two half pieces tumble to the ground.

Whatever noise of appreciation comes out of your mouth was not meant for his ears but suddenly, his head whips around and he levels you with an aggravated glare.

He drops the axe to the ground and stalks over to where you stand, his dark brown eyes narrowed and his soft lips tight with his gritted teeth.

“Can I help you with somethin’? Since you’re trespassin’?” he rumbles.

His eyes rake over you and he glances toward the sky.

“From the city?”

You bristle. “Yeah, and what’s it to ya?”

He snorts. “Those boots look real practical darlin.’ I’m sure they’ll come in handy for the next snow storm.”

You look down at your heeled feet. “We plow snow in the city. Super convenient. You know since people like to get a life. Do things. Instead of hiding away in the mountains.”

He raises a bushy eyebrow. “Uh huh. Well, good for you. Any reason why you’re interrupting me.”

“Just here to take the pictures for Mountain Living magazine.”

You rummage through your bag and pull out some papers, passing them his way. You can’t help but notice how his hands dwarf them.

“So you’re the photographer.”

“Yep,” you answer, popping the p and giving him your name.

“Joel Miller,” he grunts and stands to his full height, crossing his thick arms over his broad chest.

You smile brightly and bat your lashes.

He scowls.

“Let’s go inside so you can take your pictures. And then you can get back to your fancy city life.”

You follow him inside, careful to avoid the mud puddles. A loud, keening screech shatters the silence and you yelp in surprise. You slide in your boots and bump into Joel, grabbing his thick bicep for safety.

A huge bird swoops by and lands on a nearby tree branch, ruffling it’s feathers and eyeballing you. Your fingers flex on his muscle and you gasp.

“What is that? It looks like a dinosaur! Is it going to eat us?”

“It’s just a hawk darlin’,” he answers with a shake of his head. “Shit, don’t they have any birds in the city?”

“I mean sure,” you begin, “but they are small and hop around a lot.”

He stares at you, unmoving. “Well, you’re not in any danger. Unless it decides to take a shit on your head.”

He says it without cracking a smile.

“Aren’t you hilarious,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes.

“Why exactly are you up here in the wilderness?” he asks. “You don’t seem too excited about it.”

“Other than work…I’m visiting my grandmother. She lives up here and I’m staying with her for the next month. Getting some fresh air and all that.”

“Just as you step up onto the porch you hear a whining noise. A fluffy yellow lab ambles over and sits on your boot, wagging it’s tail and looking up at you with big brown eyes.

“Who’s this?” you ask as you lean down to pet the dog.

“That’s Winston.”

“He’s a lab right?”

“Yep.”

You cough to hide your laugh. “He’s very cute but I thought it was mandatory for all people living here to have some huge breed like a Pyrenees or Saint Bernard.”

“Does your grandmother have some giant dog?” he asks.

“Two Swiss Mountain dogs actually. Bert and Ernie.”

He surprises you with a huge smile. His whole face lit up, his eyes even crinkling at the corners.

“Nice names. I like your grandmother.”

“She’s the best. Even if she worries too much about me. She wants me to move out of the city and come up here for the cleaner air!”

He opens the front door and ushers you inside. “She has a point. It’s much healthier here.”

“And boring-er.”

The door bangs shut behind him.

“That’s not a word.”

“It should be. At least up here.”

He doesn’t look amused and instead walks over to small desk in the corner and shuffles some papers.

You take a look around and blink in surprise. It’s gorgeous. The granite fireplace is surrounded by hand-made wooden furniture and the high ceilings and large windows create a rustic and beautiful scene.

“You look shocked,” he chuckles from behind you.

“Oh,” you startle. “It’s just…it’s so beautiful. How did you do all this?”

He smiles again. “It took a lot of time and sawdust.”

You walk around, running your fingertips over the curves of the furniture and firing off the names of all the different woods it’s made of.

“How do you know so much about that?”

“I’ve taken enough pictures of furniture and asked enough questions to know most types of wood,” you explain.

“Well, now, isn’t that funny. City girls knows all about timber but is scared of the outdoors.”

“I never said that!” you grumble.

“I could see it all over your face when the hawk flew by! You look around like somethin’s gonna jump out and eat ya!”

You narrow your eyes and step closer to him. “That’s just not true. I’m not scared of the woods…I’m simply afraid of…of…certain large mammals that might enjoy life in the woods…you know rubbing up against trees, eating berries and honey and maybe an occasional human!”

“What in the world…?” Joel smirks.

“I’m afraid of bears!” you say as you sit on his couch and slump back.

He tries to stifle a laugh. “I’m guessin’ there’s a story hiding somewhere darlin’.”

“I’m guessing my grandmother is expecting me for dinner. I better get started on the pictures so I’m not late.”

You shuffle with your camera equipment until you’re satisfied then start snapping shots. You’re in the zone and hardly feel Joel’s eyes on you as you work. When you’re done you pack up and hold out your hand to him.

“It was nice to meet you Joel.”

Your hand is engulfed by warm, rough skin and so much strength. You peer up into his face and expect a snarky smile but instead you gasp softly at the winded look you find. He blinks slowly and he tightens his grip before tugging on your hand.

Your boots slide across the hard wood floor until your inches away from him and his gaze drops to your mouth.

Your knees buckle when Winston slams against your legs and wiggles his body between the two of you.

Joel sighs. “Damn dog.” But he leans down and affectionately rubs behind his ears.

Winston sits on your feet and presses his body weight against you, relishing the ear rubs.

“Winston,” you coo as you join in.

“Sorry about him. He’s a big fan of affection.”

You clear your throat. “Isn’t everyone?”

His eyes level with yours and you get caught in his gaze, a warmth spreading along your skin.

“I better get going. I’ll be sure to e-mail you the proofs of the pictures so you can be part of the selecting process.”

You fly out of the house and into the car, tearing down the dirt road then peeking in your rear-view mirror to see Joel standing out on his porch.

“I need a drink,” you mumble before turning toward the small town.

Joel runs a hand through his already disheveled hair after he pulls into the parking lot of the general store in town.

He knows a hot cup of coffee will help and one of those muffins that the owner’s wife bakes.

The general store has it all…coffee, muffins, dog biscuits, a new axe…and you.

There you are, smack dab in the middle of the aisle stocked with wine. You grab a bottle and round the corner toward the register.

The owner, Mark, chats you up as you check out.

“Celebrating something tonight miss?” Mark asks.

“Actually no, just visiting with my grandma but I needed a drink,” you explain to Mark.

“Not sure that’s somethin’ your grandma should be drinkin’.”

At the sound of that familiar deep voice you grit your teeth and turn to face him.

The look of indignation on your face almost makes Joel laugh, the corners of his mouth twitching with his suppression.

“Grandma loves her wine Mr. Miller. And she’s old enough to enjoy it!”

Joel can’t hold back any longer and lets out a bark of laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

He steps closer and gives you a once-over before taking a sip of his coffee and raising an eyebrow.

You want to stomp your feet. “I’m surprised you even have wine in this town!”

“It’s not the middle of nowhere. We have electricity, indoor plumbing and the internet! It’s all very modern.”

“Oh yeah sure it is,” you tease. “That explains the jars of penny candy then! And if that’s what you call coffee…well…”

You look to Mark standing at the cash register, “no offense Mark.”

“None taken,” the old man says kindly, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Thank you Mark. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go enjoy this with my grandmother!”

You grab your bag of wine and march out the door, this time feeling the heat of Joel’s stare at your back.

“Is there anywhere else you want to go before we head back Grandma?”

She smiles and asks you to take her to the general store to visit Mark and get some coffee, telling you it’s been ages since she’s been in to see him.

“Sure Grandma. I’d get coffee too but I think I’ll pass…”

Your Grandma chuckles and pats your knee, still smiling.

As you walk around the store and listen to your Grandma talking with Mark you can’t help it as your thoughts wander back to Joel and the undeniable heat you feel whenever you’re near him. When you make it to the register your Grandma and Mark are talking in hushed voices, glancing your way and looking suspicious as you get closer.

“What’s going on?”

Your Grandma looks at you knowingly. “Mark here was just telling me that you took the pictures of Joel’s cabin for your magazine.”

Your eyebrows come together. “But how did he know that?”

“Joel told me,” Mark explains. “Said you took fantastic pictures. Really captured the heart and soul of his place.”

You smile at that and your Grandma’s face brightens.

“He’s a good man. A bit gruff, but good. Better than most actually.”

You look at your Grandma, letting her words sink in as you become more confused. “You know Joel?”

“Everyone knows everyone ‘round here baby,” your Grandma says. “And when I tell you Joel’s one of the good ones you best believe it.”

“Why should it matter to me?” you ask as realization dawns on you.

Your Grandma and Mark share an entertained expression.

“OH NO!” you say, far too loudly. “No way! There is no way in hell I’m getting involved with a big, cranky, grumpy, Lab-owning, house building, bearded lumberjack who lives in the middle of nowhere!”

Both your Grandma and Mark smirk and glance over your shoulder.

“Hi Joel,” Mark says. Good to see you again.”

You narrow your eyes at Mark. “Funny. You expect me to believe that he’s standing behind me?” Just how naïve do you think I am!”

A low rumble in your ear raises every hair on your body.

You turn until Joel’s face comes into view, his beard, complete with patches of gray, only inches from your lips.

“For the record, I’m only grumpy when people trespass on my property.”

He smiles and places some dog biscuits down on the counter before walking off down another aisle.

Your Grandma cackles. “Oh he definitely likes you.”

Mark nods enthusiastically in agreement before you look between them both and stomp off in a different direction.

Unfortunately that direction takes you smack into the hard chest of your grumpy lumberjack.

“Oof,” you mutter, closing your eyes when his strong hands close around your waist.

“You ok darlin’? You were comin’ round that corner so fast I didn’t have time to move. Sorry.”

“I’m fine,” you whisper, slowly opening your eyes until your vision is filled with the soft brown color of his.

“And by the way,” he continues. “I might be slightly grumpy, a lab-owner and a builder but I ain’t no lumberjack.”

“Really,” you muse, still standing close enough that you can feel his chest brush yours with his inhale. “Let’s see,” you point at his flannel shirt. “Plaid shirt. Check! Axe? Saw you use one of those! Check! Beard,” and you glance at his chin, your fingers slowly lifting until your brush them over his cheek.

“Check.” The last one comes out breathy and light.

Joel chuckles, dipping his head until his warm breath fans your cheek and his lips brush the shell of your ear.

“What do you say to lettin’ me take ya out for a bite to eat? There’s a local dive that makes decent food and I think they even have wine.”

You pause, trying to steady your shallow breathing.

“Well, I guess that might be okay. Considering there’s wine…and Grandma says the college boys are really cute here in town.”

Joel frowns. “College boys? I don’t think college boys would know how to satisfy a sophisticated city woman like you.”

He strokes his callused fingers over your soft jaw. “I think you might need a real man for the job.”

You still beneath his touch, then let out a slow breath.

“What makes you think I’m looking for a real man? Maybe I’ve sworn off all men for a while.”

“I don’t think you have any idea what a real man can do for you darlin’.”

Your eyes linger on his mouth and he clears his throat, but his voice still comes out gravelly and strained.

“Lumberjack men don’t fool around. What you see is what you get. And when we see what we want…”

He stares at your lips, pouting and inviting. “We take it.”

Your lips part on a breathy gasp before you recover and sass him with, “but you said it yourself, you’re no lumberjack.”

He just smiles and waits, softly tracing the outline of your jaw.

You run your tongue over your lips and stare at him.

“Okay. You can take me out.”

He grabs your hand and turns on his heel, pulling you right past the register and out the door.

(Don’t worry, Grandma got a ride home and is safe and sound- neither Joel nor our reader would never leave her hanging).

@pedritosdarling @lorilane33 @hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @justkinsey @littleseasiren @laineyreads @beccablogsthings @kmc1989 @hallecarey1

[weirdmorefics]

(honestly, this can be romantic or platonic) what if Aziraphale and Crowley were with a human Y/N who was very knowledgeable about fossils, mostly dinosaurs. they know all the shit like how the thagomizer got it's name, all the arguments on whether or not Triceratops and Torosaurus were the same species or not and shit like that. they go on and on and the husbands are just listening like: Crowley: i'm gonna tell them. (just really ready to do the divine equivalent of telling a child that Santa isn't real)

Aziraphale: don't you dare!

I Am Above It

Aziracrow x Platonic!Reader

Reader Pronouns- They/Them

A/N- I get the most oddly specific Aziracrow requests and I am kind of living for it lol.

Warnings- None

Word Count- 506

Summary- Crowley is determined to annoy the reader after they claim they are above it and Aziraphale struggles to keep the peace.

Y/n enters the bookstore with a skip in their step and an intense smile. They shout as they enter "I just got this amazing book, who's ready to learn more dinosaur facts!"

"Do you not already own every book there is to own about dinosaurs?" Crowley tilts his glasses down his nose as he teases them.

"You see usually I would argue with you how that would be physically impossible as some books are antiques or are rare and printed in small batches. However, today I am in such a good mood I do not even care about you being wrong!" They shout back bouncing in excitement.

Crowley smirks devilishly, "You see but you just technically argued with me."

Y/n shakes their head and looks in the other direction, "You are not bothering me I am above it."

Crowley's smirk just gets wider and seems to take this statement as a challenge. Aziraphale notices the change in Crowley's expression from behind his desk. Aziraphale would shiver if angels shivered that is because he knows that look of Crowley's all too well. He refused to let poor naive Y/n be on the receiving end of Crowley's mission to break the calm.

Aziraphale awkwardly clears his throat to get Crowley's attention but he makes it way too obvious, causing Y/n and Crowley to both give him questioning glances.

"Crowley, may I speak with you for a moment," He says it like a question but everyone knows it was not a request but a statement.

Crowley's teasing mood apparently was not just for Y/n but for his angel as well, "Why Angel, it would be rude to leave our guest to have a tryst behind the bookshelves."

Aziraphale felt the heat rush to his face and tried to calmly explain to Y/n that he was not suggesting a tryst with Crowley.

Y/n laughed, "I know, Aziraphale." Then they proclaimed seriously setting their new book down on Aziraphale's desk, "You should be above Crowley's teasing today like me! We have lots of dinosaur facts to learn or say that I already know them."

"Maybe I will be above it," Aziraphale crosses his arms with a satisfied smirk.

Y/n clasps their hands together, "Perfect! I will make some hot cocoa for us all in honor of the occasion."

As soon as Y/n is out of earshot Crowley whispers to Aziraphale, "Humans really have dinosaurs all wrong it would be a shame for them to go around believing the wrong facts."

The angel shoots Crowley the biggest side eye imaginable, "Don't you dare!"

Crowley does not respond simply adjusts his glasses and looks in the direction of Y/n.

"I can hear you whispering about something but I will not be nosey today because I am above it." They shout as they return with three hot chocolates.

"You sound so above it, " Crowley says sarcastically but Y/n takes it at face value and smiles with pride excited for a day of reading.

[osatokun]

How did your adventures with TTRP start (as in like, how did you get into it)? Have you ever RPed in any server or forums or sites? Or in games?

Hmm I think it started when I was 11 or 12. I started to read Cat warriors ( at these time there were only few books I think) and discovered there are a forum RP ( how do they called?) based on the books. I played there a bit ( I was VERY shy for the most of my life, it was hard). And most importantly I started to draw, because I the admins here were awesome artists and I wanted to be like them. I think this is when everything started! When I was in university my fellow student suggested to play DnD. It was.. bad. We played about 3 sessions online, at it was veeeeeeery boring. I played necromancer tiefling but I never actually did any necromancy lol. BUT it got me interested in ttrpgs and I started to search masters. My friends also wanted to try ttrpgs so it got me motivated. By absolutely miracle I found a DM, the one who became my friend later on. He didn't know me or my friends and had nearly blank social media page and got very surprised by my message that sound something like " hi hello you don't know me but I heard you're a cool DM. May I ask you to play a one shot game for me and my friends?". We played oneshoot and then we continued for 2 years. It was a big cool adventure and I have a lot of sweet memories about it. Then we played a bunch of different games like the Call of Cthulhu, Alien, Mothership, Delta Green, Mothership, Humble Wood, Numenera, Spelljammer, a dinosaur game I can't remember the name and in the end, he suggested to play Vampire the Masquerade. We had ups and downs, but in the end it was what people imagine when they talk about TTRPG experience - anyone playing irl, tea and donuts, you know everyone and talk after games a lot. It was cool while it lasted! I figured that I never felt love for games as much as I felt while playing VtM. So after that I looked for another masters, and mostly played online. Now I have paid master that have a very good balance of scary and sweet in his games ( also he made Glinda insanely hot help). But yeah I RP a lot in games. I don't like plain dice rolls without getting into character. Now I try to make a lot of research for my chars, and sometimes write monologs for Charlie to feel him better ( and also look for poetry to show Glinda how pretty she is..)

[captainnait]

Go ahead, infodump about Bob from Headrush. No one is stopping you

3:11 pm, 5/20/2024

You will not believe how big of a smile I got when I first saw this ask 😭😭 Like I'm genuinely so happy to talk about him, thank you,,,

Anyway, you don't need to ask me twice 💥

(Yeah, a lot of rambling under the cut, hehe)

— One of my favorite canon facts about Bob is that he REALLY hates emoticons. He mentions it two times: one time in a question, where he refuses to read out loud the category name, that is just an emoticon, and instead just calls it "that. . . thing" or smth, and the other time is in the "Don't be afraid to express your emoticons" Headrush category, where he just straight up tells players to be cautious of people who use emoticons 😭

Either he had a terrible experience with someone who used emoticons. . . Or his old man brain just doesn't understand them. Or both idk.

— I don't know if it's just an Andy Poland thing or not (it's probably is, but still—), but I just really like the way he can change up his voices so quickly. My man can literally go from "uwu im so silly" type of voice to LITERALLY the most brutal and manliest voice imaginable in just a span of a few seconds, and I think that's INCREDIBLE.

If we talk about Bob specifically though, I really like how silly his voice sounds at the end of the round, when he says "bye-bye" or other similar to that lines. It just makes me giggle, okay,,

— I don't remember the full context behind this image and the question it is from, but. Yeah. Huh.

[For some reason Tumblr just doesn't let me put this image in, but it just a screenshot of the game with red words written on the screen, saying "Bob has a "thing" for Barney"]

It's also pretty funny, since a few rounds later I got another Barney question ("Even Purple Dinosaurs Have to Die... Someday"), and Bob didn't sound really amused by it lol

— There are a lot of lines in the game, where Bob jokes/admits that he feels pretty lonely and/or isolated, which is very interesting, considering that he doesn't seem as a very introverted person or someone who doesn't go outside much.

I don't have any specific speculations on why he is like that, but I think (headcanon, I guess) that it's something that he grow up feeling like and, perhaps, still haven't grown out of it.

— In "None of the Smoke & All of the Cancer", Bob says that he finds smoking to be "sexy". It isn't very clear whether if he meant it as a joke or not, so. Eh.

— A lot of people said it way before me, but. . . This man has major dog vibes. Like, I can't pin down specific things that make me think like that. It's— It's just the overall vibe I get from him lol

— I'm pretty sure I've seen someone already make a post about it (I'm not sure though), buuuut it's pretty fascinating to me how little sexual interest Bob shows in women (compare to other hosts in the series, at least) and how little he cares for "mushy" stuff in general, valuing friendship/platonic bonds a lot more.

This probably could stem from what type of game Headrush is, since it's aimed for a younger audience - teens, who probably don't really care about love in that young age. But yeah, just an interesting thing to thinking about while in a shower.

— His relationship with Old Man is pretty weird, because he both shows extreme violence and, yet, somehow, some type of respect towards him? Like, there are moments were he shouts, yells and doesn't mind kicking Old Man for his annoying shenanigans, maybe even having a way easier time with it than other hosts. But then there are a few rare moments, where he actually doesn't mind Old Man at all and would even listen to his stories with a genuine interest.

Of course it's not something completely new to the series, but it is also makes me fairly curious, since I feel like this is the game where we get to see a lot of Old Man's personality and how he influences those around him (in the case of this game (99% of it) - Bob lol)

. . . That's it, ig. For now, i feel satisfied)

I also would really like ranting about Milan and his weirdly homoerotic relationship with Bob, buuut I need to get all the TTwM clips first, so. Yeah. That'll have to wait 💥

[maybeimamuppet]

the pursuit of a name

hello everyone!! 

i might as well reintroduce myself here since i’ll likely get some new readers! i’m ezzy and i’m 21, i usually write for mean girls the musical but i’ve recently watched the new matilda movie and hohoooo the hyperfixation resurgence was just. WOW so anyway! here i am lol

there’ll be more information for you towards the end but i don’t want to take up too much space at the beginning. 

tw for 

mentioned/implied abuse 

and please let me know if i miss any warnings so i can add them in!!

enjoy!!

—————

“I’m back,” Matilda says as she opens and closes the door to their place. 

“Hi, darling,” Miss Honey greets. “Is Mrs. Phelps well?”

“Oh, yes,” Matilda says as she comes to join her in the kitchen. “She gave me this for you.”

“Oh,” Miss Honey says as Matilda rests a well-loved copy of An Honest Thief on the table. “I’ve been wanting to read this again.”

“I know,” Matilda says with an impish smile. “Oh, she gave me extra lemonade for you, too.” 

“How nice of her, thank you,” Miss Honey says as Matilda puts the tin thermos on the table as well. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m working on a few papers to finalize your adoption,” Miss Honey sighs. 

“Oh.” Matilda says. 

“Oh?” Miss Honey questions, peeking at her over the tops of her reading glasses. “Are you upset about it?” 

“Aren’t you?” Matilda asks softly. “You look stressed.” 

“No, darling, no,” Miss Honey says immediately. “The forms have been… a challenge, just because we have no way of getting in touch with your biological parents. Some information I need, I can’t get. But there’s ways around the lot of that for circumstances like ours.”

“Oh.” Matilda says again. “What information?”

“Nothing I think you’d know, brilliant as you are,” Miss Honey sighs, removing her glasses and leaving them to hang by the chain around her neck. “Oh, but your middle name, what is that?” 

“I haven’t got one,” Matilda says quietly. “My parents said I was lucky I got a name at all.” 

Miss Honey sighs and gently tips up Matilda’s chin. “They were lucky that they got a Matilda.” 

Matilda gives her a small grin, but there’s a sadness behind it that makes Miss Honey frown. 

“We have the opportunity to change your name when your adoption goes through. Would you like to?” 

“I’m not sure,” Matilda says. “I… I am Matilda. I like my name.”

“We don’t have to change your first name if you don’t want to. Matilda is a perfectly suitable and lovely name for you,” Miss Honey says. “But if you’d like to pick a middle name for yourself, we could do that.” 

Matilda mulls this over. “Can I think about it?”

“Of course,” Miss Honey says comfortingly. “Take all the time you need. A name is a big decision.” 

Matilda nods. “I’m going to go put these in my bedroom.”

“Alright,” Miss Honey says as Matilda stands and grabs her large stack of new books. “Oh, that reminds me!”

Matilda pauses on the staircase and turns to see her. 

“We still need to decorate. Would you like to head to the shops today and see what we can find?” 

Matilda’s face splits into a wide smile and she nods eagerly. Miss Honey grins back and motions her up the stairs. Matilda heads up a few more before she pauses again. “Miss Honey?”

“Yes?” 

“Will I be a Honey too?” Matilda asks. “When I’m adopted?” 

“If… if you’d like to be,” Miss Honey says, trying to hide her excitement. “Is that what you’d want?” 

Matilda nods. “Matilda Honey sounds much nicer than Matilda Wormwood.” 

“Then you’ll be Matilda Honey,” Miss Honey confirms. Matilda smiles again and rushes up the stairs. 

—-

“What sort of theme do you think you’d like your room to have?” Miss Honey asks as they peruse the aisles of the home decor shop. 

“I don’t know,” Matilda says softly, holding her hand as she looks at all the different options. Dinosaurs, flowers, the circus, dogs, different cartoon characters… it’s overwhelming.

“That’s alright,” Miss Honey says comfortingly. “We can take our time with it. How about we start with a color, to simplify things? Do you have a favorite color, Matilda?” 

“Blue,” Matilda responds. “Would a blue bedroom be too terribly depressing?” 

“I don’t think so,” Miss Honey replies. “Blue is a very relaxing color, I think that would be a fine color to paint your room.”

“Do you like blue, Miss Honey?” Matilda asks, looking up at her. 

“I do,” Miss Honey says. “I think it’s a wonderful color. So many lovely things are blue.” 

“Like the sky,” Matilda says. 

“And bluebells,” Miss Honey says. 

“And the sea.”

“And your eyes,” Miss Honey says, gently tapping the end of Matilda’s nose. Matilda blinks in shock before she giggles faintly. “Let’s go pick some paint.” 

Matilda follows her to the paint aisle and looks around at all the different swatch cards. Miss Honey picks a few blue ones and starts perusing the different shade names. 

“These colors have very strange names,” Matilda says as she grabs a few too. 

“They do, don’t they?” Miss Honey chuckles. “Look here, this one’s called Lost at Sea.” 

Matilda giggles as she holds up one of the cards. “I’ve got one called English Channel.”

Miss Honey chuckles as she reads the one Matilda holds up. “How funny. It’s a lovely shade, though.” 

“It is,” Matilda agrees with a nod. “But I like this one.” 

“Light Sky,” Miss Honey reads through the glasses perched on the tip of her nose. “It’s quite peaceful.”

“Yes,” Matilda says. “Whenever I got overwhelmed before I could do my telekinesis, I used to imagine myself floating in the sky with the clouds. On a hot air balloon, or something. And I was so high up nothing could bother me anymore.” 

“That sounds lovely,” Miss Honey murmurs softly. “Would you like to do that in your room? We could paint the walls this color if you’d like, and add clouds.”

“Could we?” 

Miss Honey crouches down to her eye level. “We can do whatever we’d like.” 

Matilda beams and tackles her in a hug. Miss Honey squeezes her close and gently strokes through the soft ends of Matilda’s hair. They stay that way for a moment, both of them relishing in having someone dear they can hold close, before Miss Honey grabs the swatch card and heads to find someone to mix it up for them. Matilda follows, tightly holding her hand. 

—-

They start painting the next day. They were both quite exhausted after their shopping day, but Matilda is so eager to get started that Miss Honey can’t find it in herself to push it back any further. 

They don some tattered old things of Miss Honey’s that can stand to get covered in paint. Matilda giggles when she sees her in the ill-fitting and informal sweatshirt and jeans. Miss Honey laughs right back seeing Matilda swimming in an old button-down blouse with holes in the elbows and some shorts tied to fit around her waist. 

“Miss Honey?” Matilda asks as she takes a small brush to outline the electrical outlets. 

“Yes, Matilda?” Miss Honey replies as she rolls the blue over a section of the first wall. 

“What’s your middle name?” 

“My middle name is Faith,” Miss Honey says. “My father said that it took so much faith for he and my mother to have me that they hardly even had to think about it.” 

“Jennifer Faith Honey,” Matilda recites to herself. “It’s pretty.”

“Thank you,” Miss Honey says. 

“Is it very common to take someone else’s middle name?” Matilda asks as she outlines the light switch. 

“Not very common, I would think,” Miss Honey says. 

“Oh,” Matilda replies. Miss Honey smiles sadly. 

“Were you hoping to share a name?” 

“Not really,” Matilda shrugs. “I’m just looking for inspiration.” 

“I think you’ll know when you find the proper one for you,” Miss Honey says, finishing the first wall. 

“Matilda Faith sounds nice, but I don’t think it’s right for me,” Matilda replies. 

“And that’s perfectly alright. We’ll get your name sorted out whenever you find the right one for you,” Miss Honey says. She takes a step back to admire her work. “What do you think?”

“It’s brilliant,” Matilda says, unable to keep a smile off her face. 

“Good,” Miss Honey says, panting a bit for breath. “Hard work, isn’t it?” 

Matilda rests her brush on the tray and nods, coming to hug her. “Thank you.” 

“Of course, my little firefly,” Miss Honey murmurs, kissing the top of her head. “You’ve got paint in your hair.” 

“You smell of it.” 

“I think we’ll both need a bath after we finish here,” Miss Honey chuckles. 

They continue chatting as they paint the other three walls. Matilda eventually finishes all her outlets and joins in using the rollers. With the both of them working it goes much more quickly, though Matilda can only reach about three quarters of the way up the wall with hers and has to leave Miss Honey to do the rest. 

By the time they finish the last, the first wall has dried. Miss Honey cracks open the can of white paint they purchased and takes a sponge. Matilda watches curiously as she dabs it in seemingly random spots on the wall in front of her, until she pulls back and reveals a quaint little cloud. 

“What do you think?” 

“It’s fantastic,” Matilda beams. Miss Honey smiles back and holds out the sponge. 

“Why don’t you do a few?” 

Matilda takes the sponge from her hand and dips it into the paint. She picks a spot on the wall and stares at it, unmoving.

“Matilda?” 

“What if I ruin it?” Matilda asks worriedly. Miss Honey gently rests a hand on her shoulder and leans in to look from Matilda’s eye level. 

“Have you ever seen a perfect cloud?” she asks softly. Matilda thinks before she shakes her head. “Then how could you ruin it?” 

She gently slides her hand down Matilda’s arm and guides the sponge to the wall. Once it’s squished against the surface and the first splotch of white is there, Matilda’s fear dissipates the slightest bit. She pulls it away and dabs it around in a few more spots before she takes a step back to see what she’s done. 

A delightful, fluffy looking cloud sits before her. 

“Beautiful,” Miss Honey says. “Do a few more.” 

“What are you going to do?” Matilda asks. Her eyes widen as Miss Honey suddenly pulls out several tiny pots of various colored paints. 

“Skies with just clouds are boring, don’t you think?” 

Matilda smiles and nods. Miss Honey grabs a step stool and heads to the corner of the wall closest to Matilda’s window. 

Matilda sponges on another cloud as Miss Honey outlines a hot air balloon in a rainbow of colors. 

Miss Honey is beautiful when she’s concentrating on something. Matilda likes watching her read, or cook, or clean, or do paperwork. Anything, really. Her eyes aren’t angry the way her parents’ used to be. They simply look… excited. Welcoming to whatever this project she’s working on might bring her. 

Her hair is unkempt today, since they’ve been working so hard. Matilda observes the frizzy strands framing her face, illuminated from behind by the afternoon sun streaming in through the window. She looks like the angels in all those paintings in the books about art Matilda has read. Matilda doesn’t believe in angels in the biblical sense, but if there ever was a real one, it would be Miss Honey.

The silence between them is peaceful as they continue working on the accent wall. Matilda’s old house was always loud; whether due to her parents shouting at each other or just the ever-on television. It’s quiet, here, but in a comforting sort of way. Miss Honey doesn’t feel a need to speak all the time. Matilda appreciates that. 

Miss Honey starts humming a tune to herself as she works. She sings and hums a lot. Her voice is soft, and sweet. She almost never notices she’s doing it. Matilda often just sits and listens to the comforting, dulcet tones of her voice. She doesn’t dare mention the humming or the singing to Miss Honey’s face, lest she become self conscious and stop it altogether. 

Their home is quiet, but not silent. And Matilda is perfectly happy with that. 

-

The sun is beginning to set by the time they finish with their respective tasks. Miss Honey has painted the most beautiful hot air balloon Matilda could’ve possibly imagined, with stripes in every color of the rainbow holding up the little basket. 

“I think we need one last finishing touch,” Miss Honey says as they admire their handiwork from the other side of the room, hands resting pensively on their chins. 

“Finishing touch?” 

Miss Honey grabs the yellow paint and pours some into an empty tray. Matilda approaches in confusion, which only grows when Miss Honey sticks her hands into it. 

“Miss Honey!” 

“I think…” Miss Honey says pensively, looking at every little place on the wall. She reaches up high and places one hand on the wall. “Here.” 

“What are you doing?” Matilda giggles. Miss Honey lines up her other hand against the first handprint so it’s facing the other way and repeats the motion. 

“Come on,” Miss Honey coaxes, motioning to the paint with a smile. Matilda hesitates for a second before sticking her little hands into the gloopy yellow paint. Miss Honey comes up behind her and hoists her into the air. “Put one handprint there.” 

Matilda does, lining up her hand so it’s perpendicular to Miss Honey’s handprints and squishing it against the wall. She squeals slightly as the paint oozes and gets between her fingers. 

“And there,” Miss Honey coaches. Matilda puts handprints everywhere Miss Honey points to, and smiles as she’s rested gently back on the ground. 

“The sun,” she says when she sees what their handprints have made. 

“I think that’s the best sun I’ve ever made,” Miss Honey says proudly. 

“Our thumbprints made a love heart,” Matilda giggles, standing on her tippy toes to show the part where their thumbs overlapped. “There.” 

“I think that’s fitting,” Miss Honey says quietly. Matilda smiles up at her. Miss Honey smiles back. “Now, I think it’s time we leave this to dry and go wash up for dinner.” 

Matilda nods. Impishly, when Miss Honey turns, she presses a still-yellow hand against her backside. Miss Honey yelps and whirls around. 

“Oh, you little gremlin!” she says. Unlike all the previous times Matilda has heard those words, there’s not a hint of malice behind it. She squeals as Miss Honey lunges for her and leaves a print on her shoulder. Matilda grabs a brush and some of the unused paint in other colors and swipes some over her sleeve. 

Miss Honey grabs some purple and swipes some onto Matilda’s nose. Matilda gasps, going a bit cross-eyed as she stares at her purple nose. Miss Honey bites her lip as she tries in vain to hold back a laugh, like she herself can’t believe she just did that. 

It turns to a shriek as Matilda suddenly charges, armed with some green that she swipes all over Miss Honey’s jeans. Miss Honey retaliates by grabbing her and spinning her around in a circle, leaving Matilda laughing harder than she thinks she’s ever laughed in her life and completely unable to do anything other than sink to the plastic-covered ground in exhaustion when she lets her go.

Miss Honey laughs as she lies next to her, staring up at the as-yet undecorated ceiling. “Oh, you make me laugh, Matilda.” 

“You make me laugh too, Miss Honey,” Matilda says quietly. Unthinkingly, she reaches for and squeezes her hand. Miss Honey squeezes her back. 

—————-

“Mrs. Phelps?” Matilda asks the next week during one of her daily visits to the book bus. 

“Yes, Matilda?” Mrs. Phelps replies, her turbaned head popping out from behind a shelf.

“What’s your name?” 

“My name?”

“I’ve only ever known you as Mrs. Phelps. What’s your first name, your middle name?” Matilda asks. 

“Why do you want to know so suddenly?” Mrs. Phelps asks, sitting in her chair and pouring a glass of lemonade. 

“I just think a person’s name is a good thing to know,” Matilda explains. Mrs. Phelps doesn’t seem to notice her dodging the question. 

“My first name is Praveena,” she says. “And my middle name is Dawn.” 

“Praveena Dawn Phelps,” Matilda says. Mrs. Phelps nods. “I like your names.”

“Thank you. I like yours too,” Mrs. Phelps replies. Matilda sips thoughtfully at her lemonade. 

“Do you have any books about names?”

“I must, somewhere” Mrs. Phelps tuts. “Remind me to organize my sections.” 

“I remind you every time I visit, Mrs. Phelps.”

“You do,” Mrs. Phelps acknowledges. “Fat lot of good it does, eh?”

“Miss Honey and I could help you do it sometime,” Matilda says as they both scan the shelves for anything to do with names. “She’s been wanting to visit you more.”

“Has she?” Mrs. Phelps says, a bit louder than she needs to since she’s a slight distance away. “She’s always welcome.” 

“I’ll let her know. We’ll clear a day,” Matilda says. 

“Ah! Here we are,” Mrs. Phelps calls. Matilda rushes over as she pulls out a small stack of dust-covered baby naming books. “I’ll keep an eye out for others, but this should be enough to get you started.”

“Oh, yes, this is perfect!” Matilda says. “May I borrow these?”

“Of course, Matilda,” Mrs. Phelps says. “What are you up to? Trying to name a character in a story of yours?”

“You could say that,” Matilda replies softly, staring at the books in her hands. “Thank you Mrs. Phelps! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“By the windmill!” Mrs. Phelps calls as she goes rushing out the door. 

“Windmill!” Matilda yells to acknowledge she heard. Mrs. Phelps shakes her head affectionately and starts packing up for the day. 

—————

“Your new room is brilliant,” Lavender says upon seeing it for the first time. It’s come a good ways since the painting of the walls. Every day they add a little something. Matilda has a proper, massive, cozy bed with fluffy white sheets and pillows and blankets like a cloud. 

She has a huge bookshelf, large enough to practically take up the whole wall. Miss Honey has been taking her to bookstores as well as her visits to Mrs. Phelps at the library, so it’s filling up quite quickly. She has her own desk for schoolwork and a place to read. And Miss Honey even put together a special reading nook in the corner, with a plush carpet and rainbow-colored cushions to sit on, and a tulle rainbow curtain hanging from the ceiling like a tent. It’s everything a little girl could want from a bedroom. “Thank you.”

“What are you reading this time?” Lavender asks around a mouthful of bubblegum, lying on her stomach on Matilda’s new bed. 

“A book of baby names,” Matilda replies. 

“Baby names? What baby?” Lavender asks. She gasps suddenly. “Is Miss Honey-”

“No, she’s not,” Matilda interrupts. “I’m trying to pick my middle name.”

“You don’t have one?”

“No,” Matilda replies. “And I can’t find one for myself, either.” 

“My mum says picking my middle names was harder than my first,” Lavender agrees. 

“What’s yours?” 

“I’ve got three,” Lavender replies.

“Three?!” Matilda asks in shock. 

“My whole family kind of does. In the Philippines a lot of people have got two first names, and their mum’s old last name usually becomes a middle name,” Lavender says. “My parents gave me two first names and two middle names. But I count the second first one as a middle one.”

“That’s lucky,” Matilda says. “What are they?”

“My first name is Lavender-Maria,” Lavender says. “And my middle names are Elizabeth and Santos.”

“Lavender-Maria Elizabeth Santos Torres,” Matilda says. 

“In the flesh,” Lavender says with a nod. 

“How did your mother pick your middle name? The Elizabeth one, I mean?” Matilda asks, closing her book and gently putting it aside. 

“I dunno,” Lavender says with a small shrug. “She said she thought about names she’d seen and that she liked. In stories, and stuff. And she picked one from that. But she picked my brother’s because his middle name is our dad’s dad’s dad’s name.” 

“Stories…” Matilda mumbles to herself. She shifts so she’s lying flat on her back, looking up at her ceiling. Miss Honey hung twinkly lights all over it that look like stars when the lights are off. The lights aren’t on right now, since it’s daytime, but they’re one of Matilda’s favorite bits of her new bedroom. “What do you think my middle name should be?” 

“Lavender?” she suggests with a chortle. 

“I wouldn’t want to steal your name,” Matilda replies in complete seriousness. “But it is a lovely name.” 

“What are some of your favorite book characters? Just pick one of them,” Lavender says. 

“Ophelia,” Matilda says. She wrinkles her nose. “Matilda Ophelia sounds like a medical condition.” 

Lavender laughs harder than is probably appropriate. “Yeah.” 

“Sherlock Holmes,” Matilda says.

“He’s a boy.” 

“Yeah,” Matilda sighs. “Casy?” 

“Casy’s not bad,” Lavender says. 

“It still just… doesn’t feel like me,” Matilda grumbles. “How about… Josephine? Miss Honey’s been reading me Little Women before bed this week. She says Jo reminds her of me.”

“Matilda Josephine is just a mouthful,” Lavender says, blunt as always. Matilda nods with a sad sigh. Lavender clocks it, because she sits up and rests a friendly hand on Matilda’s shoulder. “You’ll think of something. You think of everything.” 

Matilda giggles at that. “Thanks, Lavender.” 

“What are best friends for?” Lavender says. 

—————

It takes another month of thinking, and another four name books Mrs. Phelps orders specially for her. Matilda spends practically all of her free time poring over what her middle name should be. She’s had a few that sound nice, but none of them have quite given her that… aha moment. That just right feeling, like the kind you get when a story has the perfect ending. 

She’s about to call off the hunt for a middle name altogether and stick to just being plain Matilda, when something Lavender said comes back to her. 

“But she picked my brother’s because his middle name is our dad’s dad’s dad’s name.”

A family name. 

Matilda never met her own grandparents. They never visited or called. She wonders if her parents even bothered to tell them she existed or not. She doesn’t know their names, or what they look like. Neither of her parents have siblings, so there’s no aunts or uncles to pick from either. She most definitely isn’t interested in naming herself after her parents.

She doesn’t have any family names to pick from. 

She fidgets sadly with a loose thread on Miss Honey’s duvet, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time. Miss Honey is working on something for the school at her big wooden desk against the wall. Matilda listens to the sound of her pen scritching quietly across the paper in perfect, even strokes. 

Miss Honey says all the time that Matilda doesn’t have to ask for hugs when she needs one. And Matilda needs one now. 

She stands and pads over to the desk, wrapping her small arms around Miss Honey’s shoulders and resting her chin to peek over the left one. 

“Hello, darling,” Miss Honey says, resting a warm hand against Matilda’s cheek. 

“Hello,” Matilda replies quietly. 

“You alright?” Miss Honey asks. Matilda nods, so Miss Honey gives her a gentle pat and returns to her work. 

Matilda’s eyes wander over the desk. Everything stays in roughly the same place on Miss Honey’s desk. A snow globe that had been a gift from one of her students, a paperweight in the shape of a swan from another. Matilda’s eyes suddenly lock onto the photos of Miss Honey’s parents. 

“Miss Honey?”

“Yes, Matilda?” the woman replies. 

“What was your mother’s name?” Matilda asks quietly. The story that eventually led them both here told Matilda that her father’s name was Magnus, but Matilda never learned Miss Honey’s mother’s name. 

“My mother?” Miss Honey asks. Matilda can feel her smile as she reaches for the photograph. Mrs. Honey was a very beautiful woman. She gave Miss Honey her eyes, and she had dimples too. Matilda never met her, but even looking at the picture just fills her with a sense of love. “Her name was Katherine. But everyone called her Kate.” 

“Kate,” Matilda says. “Would… do you… do you think she’d mind if that became my middle name?” 

Miss Honey turns her chair around and gently takes Matilda’s little hands into her own warm ones, squeezing her palms. 

“I think she would be so honored,” she says. “That a little girl as amazing as you would want to be named after her.” 

“Really?” Matilda asks. Miss Honey has tears brimming in her eyes as she nods. 

“Really. From everything my father told me about her… she would have loved you so much, Matilda. You two would’ve been the best of friends,” she says, her voice trembling the slightest bit. 

“She sounds like I would’ve loved her too,” Matilda says, drying Miss Honey’s tears with little fingers. “As long as she liked to read.” 

“Where do you think I got it from?” Miss Honey asks with a chuckle, pulling Matilda into her lap. Matilda rests against her shoulder as they both look at the photo one more time. 

“Matilda Kate Honey,” Matilda says, more to herself than anything else. The words just feel… right, in her mouth. In her mind. She’s a Honey. And her middle name is Kate. Just like her grandmother. She does have a family name after all. “I love you, Miss Honey.” 

“I love you too, Matilda Kate.”

—————

thank you for reading!!

now to the boring stuff lol

i post on wednesdays!! not every single one, but when i do post things it will be on a wednesday so if you’d like to see more from me that is the day to keep an eye out! 

please feel free to leave requests, whether for these two or not and i will do what i can to make them happen :) 

i am, unfortunately for everyone involved, american, so i apologize for any inaccuracies in their britishness or for any differences in british systems and american systems that i’m not aware of. please bear with me!! 

with the exception of lavender (and likely a few other more ‘background’ characters) i’m going to do my best to leave them as physically vague as possible. for stories like these i think it’s more important that you as the reader be able to imagine whoever you want as these characters; whether that’s yourself, your favorite actor, or something else :) 

going along with that i did as much research as i could about how filipino people handle names but i am not filipino so i apologize sincerely again if anything with lavender wasn’t accurate.

i’m on wattpad and ao3 at the same handle so please feel free to pop in and say hello there if you’d like to!

i think that’s everything!! thank you so much for reading!! i hope you enjoyed and that you have a lovely day! 

[this-is-lightning]

Supercorp FicRec P. 28

The next part in my ongoing ficrec series. I go through my bookmarks on AO3 and select the ones I like the best and add a little commentary on why. 5 fics per part. (under the cut)

Masterpost

give me mercy no more by searidings

kara and lena would go, have been, to hell and back for one another. but heaven? that's a whole different ball game.

w: 23,195

r: general audiences

S6 black mercy AU. Lex is there and plotting, they foil the plan of course and finally their feelings come to light. Short, intense, happy ending! Looots of feelings.

We Deserve Only Good Things by ThornedRose44

“Are you Lena?” The girl jolted in her spot on the sofa, hugging the bear closer to her chest. “Yes.” Even though Kara had known it from the second she had laid eyes on the child, the confirmation still managed to take her by surprise. “Who are you?” Lena asked, trying to sound as confident as she could. “Oh, my name’s Kara.” Kara replied warmly, taking a step forward, eager to move closer to offer reassurance before halting the second she saw the younger version of her once best friend flinch. “It’s okay,” Kara quickly soothed, “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.” Lena peered over the top of her bear’s fuzzy head, “Promise?” Kara knelt down and smiled brightly, “Promise.”

or

Following Lex’s defeat, Kara and Lena are struggling to rebuild their friendship and let go of the hurt caused on both sides when Kara and Lena work together to help an alien return home. To show their gratitude for being saved the alien provides the two of them a chance to close the rift still between them. How? By getting them to meet each other's younger selves.

w: 28,678

r: mature

S6. Reconciliation is hard but they get help. Hits you right in the feels - and hard. SO well done, truly its a gem. Meeting little Kara and Lena was a real treat, wish we'd had more of that in the show. She writes them both so well and just knows how to cut them to the core. Brilliant!

something so precious about this (oh what a sin) by Just_As_Sane

Small folded pieces of paper begin to gather in her wallet. There’s swans, cute puppy faces with tiny noses drawn on them, various sized stars and there’s fish, frogs even a dinosaur.

But mostly there’s hearts.

She tries not to read too much into it.

or

Kara makes little origami creations and gives them to Lena, and Lena being the complete and utter sap that she is, loves them with all her heart.

w: 4,399

r: mature

I adore this one. Its so soft and sweet and comforting. All fluff, no angst. Definitely one of my go-to comfort fics. (and i am absolutely like this Lena when im in love lol)

What's gonna be left of the world if you're not in it? by ThornedRose44

If Lena didn’t know any better she would say she was being haunted. By an actual ghost. But Lena knew better. She had one of the highest IQ’s in the country. So Lena knew better.

THE JUST LIKE HEAVEN AU

w: 83,635

r: teen and up

This ones a lot funnier than it might sound. It gets a bit sad and sappy later, but that makes the story even better. Very happy ending (Kara is not actually dead). Also if you haven't already do check out all her fics. (tho i probably recd them all by now)

i love that i know you (like no one does) by robie

“Help me understand,” Kara says. “Are you saying everyone falls in love with their best friend?”

“I’m saying that queer women have a special affinity for it,” Lena repeats, fishing the cherry out of the bottom of her drink. “The whole ‘falling for your straight best friend’ is basically a rite of passage.”

“Says who?”

“Everyone.” She puts the cherry in her mouth, bites it off the stem. “The L Word was like, built on the premise that a friend group of queer woman in LA dated each other in some sort of terrible repeating circle for, god, however many seasons that went on. And it’s been my experience that when two people are attracted to each other, and they’re close, feelings are likely to develop.”

“That’s just, I mean, come on.” Kara’s cheeks are a little pink. “A trope and a tv show? That’s your evidence?”

“So you’ve never been in love with your best friend?” Lena looks down at her empty glass.

“No!” Kara sounds affronted. “No, I have never been in love with my best friend.”

or

A love story, told in three acts.

w: 47,367

r: mature

Sooo they totally fall in love of course, it just takes a while - cue jUsT fRiEndS shenanigans. Like so so many of them. Lots of pinging, a little angsty but eventually they stop being dumb. So so so well written.

Don't forget to leave some love for the writers! Happy reading!

[a-d-nox]

who is a.d. of nox's astrology?

as i continue to go through and fix all the links on my blog, i noticed that i have a few posts that give some insight about me, but nothing strictly covering who i am.

call me a.d., call me nox, call me a.d.nox.

as i have said before in my nyx post, it's a pseudonym! i resonate most with the roman goddess of darkness, thus i like her name and made it part of mine for all my writing needs.

my enthusiasm for astrology starts wayyy back when i started studying astronomy in second grade. that was about the same time i started learning about mythology because the man who taught astronomy at my school was from a wampanoag indian tribe. i don't know where that man is today, but shout out to him teaching me all about the constellations!

my enjoyment of astrology never really dissipated all these years, but my interest in starting a blog arose when i saw astrology come up more frequently on tiktok in 2020. as the avid reader and literature major that i am i was a bit worried that some asteroids were getting a bad wrap or being oversimplified. origin stories, myths, and legends have always been of the upmost importance to me so i thought why not share my thoughts!

so here i am about a year later - still going strong!

as for tarot, i have been studying tarot for nine years now (holy crap - i sound old).

both of these practices are something i wouldn't deem myself an expert in because everyday i still find myself learning something i didn't know before. so this is a safe space for everyone to learn no matter your experience level! there is no such thing as a stupid question - remain openminded on my blog and all will be well.

some other stuff about me that's not occult oriented: i'm an entj-t, 8w9, i studied forensic psychology before i became an english major (i graduate/graduated may 2023), i consume all media as if i was a glutton at a feast, i went to art school briefly and my medium was photorealism, i write/wrote on my university's paper, i am constantly listening to music (i'm a.d.nox on spotify as well), i taught myself cooking and baking at age 12, i hate small talk (please never just write me with "hi"), and i love dinosaurs lol.

for more about me in terms of astrology check out the following posts:

about my most prominent aspect: pluto opposite jupiter

i hate bullying: this is a no bullying zone

my big 3's aesthetic

my chart breakdown

my original introduction: 20th post (nyx), 20 facts about me

my pantone

my scorpio moon stare

my 6h v. my taste in animals

my 9h: 1 year after university reflection

q&a: your questions, my answers

reflecting on some of my placements

like what you read? leave a tip and state what post it is for! please use my "suggest a post topic" button if you want to see a specific post or mythical asteroid next!

click here for the masterlist

copyright terms

[wandasaura]

helooo !! May I know how to read your name? Since I’m veryyy confused If It’s Wanda’s aura or like Wanda saura.

( That sounds like a dinosaur 🤭🤏🏼 )

˚⋆｡°౨ৎ it’s wanda’s aura, because i thought that was a cool play on her powers, but now i think i should rebrand to wandasaurus. i love a good dino pun lol ౨ৎ °｡⋆˚

[left-my-heart-in-metropolis]

Coco Moon

HI! Thoughts on Coco Moon here: It was YAY! It is really good. Really fun, love the Christian themes and songs. (Got a teeny bit emotional when someone pointed out that Meadowlark sounds kind of like Country Hymn from Corduroy Road because AAH, that's one of my favorite scores.) I love the little samples and whatever the musical term is when you use the same instruments or tools or whatever from other songs. (Dunno much about music production lol.) There was a lot I didn't understand at first like the meanings of songs (like Kelly Time and Cast Away apparently and that Coco Moon is the name of Abbey's favorite coffee shop?) but I got a whole mess of information I needed from Reddit and other sources. Dinosaur Park is one of my favorites, Learn How to Surf also has it's really good moments. Again, the Christian songs, I'm always on board and cheering for. (I love that he's always saying "God bless.")

I keep reading people saying they feel like this is Cinematic done better but I'm ngl, I liked Cinematic a lot more. Our opinions and stuff are always affected by the time and headspace we were in when we first watched/listened to/consumed the media in general. When I first listened to Cinematic, for example, I was in middle school and I have very fond memories of that time (surprising, huh?). So, naturally, I'm going to be very nostalgic for that album. (Also yesterday I found out that it's been 5 years since Cinematic and that blew my mind.)

There was a couple things in the album that had me saying "well... that was a choice." But I'm glad that Adam is making music that "is quirky. It is odd. It is unapologetically myself. I made an album that is exactly the way it was supposed to be, not an album that popular culture, or algorithms, or analytics, or anyone else on planet Earth told me to make. I wrote me. Average, ordinary, weird me."

I love that he's making music for himself, about him, for his loved ones. We're lucky to be here and get to listen, have a sneak peek into what's on his mind. Overall, though I love all the albums that came before this one a little more (some may be surprised to hear that Mobile Orchestra is one of my favorite OC albums) because of the attached personal connections I have with them, I can't wait to listen to Coco Moon more and form those connections with it. It is a beautiful album made by a beautiful person. To conclude, I can't wait to see what more Adam has in store for us and God bless.

[seitmai]

I feel lowkey bad for the huge paragraphs of comments so I'm gonna use the read more function again lol

"It's just pedicures and pottery," you whispered against Bradley's lips with a smile as he held you close so he could feel your round belly against his body.

That sounds like a perfect evening/outing!! 😍

I would probably the people out of my life if someone ever organized a Bachelorette party with penis shaped stuff, pink sash, etc. For me

When Natasha started honking her horn, he let his forehead rest on your shoulder. "She's the worst." You just laughed and kissed his cheek as you said, "She's the best, and you know it, Daddy."

Bradley don't even try it, we all know Natasha is the best

Bradley stood on the porch with Noah and waved until you were out of sight, and then Noah asked, "Can we get Mommy a coloring book?" "Hey," Bradley said, nudging the door open while also making sure Skittles didn't get outside without her leash on. "That's a great idea, Bub. Maybe a Princess coloring book? You can give it to her for the wedding?" His son looked so much like a tiny version of himself, and he had to stifle his laughter as Noah nodded stoically and said, "Yeah, she'd like that. I have so many great ideas."

Noah is so thoughtful and unlocks a ned headcanon for me: Noah will be the best and most thoughtful gift giver all his life and the ideas come just super easy to him because he is so observative and he listens

"Yeah, okay. I can try to make them the way you like-" "Mommy left some in the fridge."

Ahahaha I love it, Noah won't even let Bradley finish that thought

You groaned and said, "I like all the older, DILF-y actors." Natasha started cackling as you covered your eyes with your hands. "You have a type!" she said amidst her laughter. "And your type is Rooster!"

Nothing wrong with that 😌🤷🏻‍♀️

"Well," she said, leaning a little closer to you like she had a secret. "You found a good one. Or rather, I kind of found you for him. But regardless, he's a keeper. Kind of because he has Noah."

I just love Nat haha

Natasha hummed as she took another forkful of dessert. "I'm telling you, he'll always be good like that. He's a planner. Very responsible."

And she is the greatest hypewoman!

"Yeah, I'm going," he groaned. "Nat will just have the guys drag me out if I don't go willingly. But I don't really care about looking at strippers. I got you and your perfect tits right here at home."

You were the picture of sated perfection with his cum oozing out of your pussy and your wet fingers skimming along your swollen belly and breasts. You were his young, pristine babysitter and his pregnant wife-to-be and everything in between. "I love you."

🥵🥵🥵

The guys had apparently all been so excited when Natasha mentioned the strip club, she had a hard time holding in her laughter. The plan all along was that she'd take Bradley and the rest of them to dinner and then to The Tiger's Cage- San Diego's premier male review.

Ahahah I can't 😂 this is the best thing ever!! Nat not only tricked Bradley but the others too 😂😂😂

"Mommy?" Noah asked as you got him changed into his dinosaur pajamas. "Are you going to adopt me?" You smiled and kissed him on his chubby cheek. "I am," you promised. But when you looked at his face, his brow was pinched with worry. "Is it going to hurt?"

This is so peak kid logic, I love it 🥹🥰

Bradley Bradshaw: Nat brought us to The Tiger's Cage. My name is on the marquee. It says CONGRATULATIONS DADDY BRADSHAW

Not the marquee😂💀

"You smell like Axe body spray. I can't believe someone is marrying you." "Jesus fuck, Nat. I smell like Axe because you took me to see male strippers."

The Axe body spray, I can't 😂😂😂

"Princess," he crooned softly when he saw you, and your heart skipped a beat at the look in his eyes.

The baby cow eyes strike once again!

"They tried to get Daddy Bradshaw up on stage. I pointed to Jake and said it was him."

Iconic😂 Why do I feel like Jake would deny that he liked it 😅🤔

The Younger Kind Part 60 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Your bachelorette outing and Bradley's bachelor party are both hosted by the same person, but they couldn't be more different. Spending an evening at home with Noah is reminiscent of your babysitting days, but now he's asking you some pertinent questions.

Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, smut, drinking, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Natasha was outside in her SUV on the driveway, ready to pick you up for your bachelorette outing. You refused to call it a bachelorette party since it was just the two of you going out for the evening, but Bradley made sure his best friend knew to spare no expense when it came to anything you wanted.

"It's just pedicures and pottery," you whispered against Bradley's lips with a smile as he held you close so he could feel your round belly against his body. "I'll be home in a few hours."

He grunted softly, kissing you a little deeper before releasing your lips. "We'll still miss you," he murmured, letting his hands roam along your hips while Noah sat on the area rug and worked on one of the new coloring books you picked up for him. "And don't overdo it." When Natasha started honking her horn, he let his forehead rest on your shoulder. "She's the worst."

You just laughed and kissed his cheek as you said, "She's the best, and you know it, Daddy."

It would have been impossible to dispute that fact. She was the one who took care of you when Bradley wasn't stateside. "Go have fun."

"Bye, Mommy!" Noah said, popping up to give you a hug when Bradley released you. He scooped his son up since he didn't want you lifting anything, and you gave Noah a kiss on the forehead.

"Have fun with Daddy," you told him, kissing him once more before heading outside to Nat's idling SUV. 

Bradley stood on the porch with Noah and waved until you were out of sight, and then Noah asked, "Can we get Mommy a coloring book?"

"Hey," Bradley said, nudging the door open while also making sure Skittles didn't get outside without her leash on. "That's a great idea, Bub. Maybe a Princess coloring book? You can give it to her for the wedding?"

His son looked so much like a tiny version of himself, and he had to stifle his laughter as Noah nodded stoically and said, "Yeah, she'd like that. I have so many great ideas."

Bradley took him back inside, and they ended up stretched out on the floor together. Noah continued with his masterpiece while Bradley started searching for options on his phone. After a few minutes, he found an independent shop that made coloring books with different themes based on photos that you send to them. "Do you like this?" he asked his son, holding up his phone.

Noah looked at the sample pages as Bradley scrolled through them. He nodded and said, "Mommy is prettier than that."

"She absolutely is," Bradley replied as he realized the wedding was in a week and didn't know if a custom book could even be completed in that short amount of time. "Let me see if we can get something like this for her. If not, we can always save it for her birthday."

His son started to pout at the mere mention of having to wait longer for it, so Bradley started typing up a message to the owner of the shop, hoping that he'd be able to explain that it was for his wedding. Once that was done, he checked the time and asked, "Do you need a snack before dinner?"

"Ants on logs," Noah replied without missing a beat. Bradley had no problem with the healthy snacks you somehow tricked the two of them into eating, but he was always told he never got the peanut butter proportions right.

"Yeah, okay. I can try to make them the way you like-"

"Mommy left some in the fridge."

Bradley chuckled as he stood up, coaxing Noah to abandon his coloring project for the time being. "Of course she did. She's the best." Somehow even when you weren't here, you had everything covered.

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

"Okay, so if you could ditch Bradley and marry a celebrity, who would you pick?"

You burst out laughing in the pedicure chair next to Natasha with your hands resting on the roundest part of your belly. "Who said I would? Even if I could?" She gave you a look followed by an eye roll before you said, "You'll laugh at me, so I don't even want to say my answer."

"Just say it," she prompted as you dragged your foot through the warm water.

You groaned and said, "I like all the older, DILF-y actors."

Natasha started cackling as you covered your eyes with your hands. "You have a type!" she said amidst her laughter. "And your type is Rooster!"

You thought back to all the time you wasted with Greyson and other guys your age and grimaced. "I don't think that was always my type. It's a more recent development, and I'm not mad about it." You moved your hand on your belly and added, "Boy suck. Men are at least marginally better."

"Well," she said, leaning a little closer to you like she had a secret. "You found a good one. Or rather, I kind of found you for him. But regardless, he's a keeper. Kind of because he has Noah."

"Mostly because he has Noah," you told her, and then both of you were laughing.

After your nails were painted a vibrant purple, Natasha took you out for dinner and let you eat until you were full. You could tell your body and appetite were changing by the day, but you refused to feel self conscious about it in front of her. The two of you were sharing a slice of cake for dessert when you said, "He really did plan almost everything for the wedding. All I did was help him pick out matching suits for him and Noah to wear. And I picked out some flowers and my dress, but that's it."

Natasha hummed as she took another forkful of dessert. "I'm telling you, he'll always be good like that. He's a planner. Very responsible."

You felt silly telling her what was on your mind, but you said it anyway. "He pays my credit card bill. Not that I spend a lot! I try not to! I usually just buy groceries and things for Noah." She nodded like your words weren't as startling as you thought they were. "I kind of wanted to surprise him as a thank you, but if I buy something, he'll see it on the credit card statement."

Maybe you should have been wary of the smirk that found its way to her lips when Natasha said, "What if I rally the boys one night this week and take him out for a little bachelor party?"

"Oh," you said softly. "You'd do that? Just something lowkey?"

"Super lowkey," she agreed with a nod.

You could easily imagine them going to Top Golf or out for some drinks. "I think he might really like that."

"Or.... and just hear me out," she said, holding up her hands innocently after handing her credit card to the waiter. "Or, you let me absolutely roast him for the night."

You studied her face; how bad could it be? She was Bradley's best friend after all. Even if she was giving him a hard time, she'd probably make it fun. "What did you have in mind?" you asked as the two of you left the restaurant and headed for the pottery boutique down the block.

"A few things I'm going to need your approval for," she replied casually. And while you worked on making yourself a mug that said Noah's Mommy, you listened to Natasha's not-so-lowkey plans for Thursday night. By the time your mug actually looked like a mug, you gave her full approval.

"I almost feel bad about this," you told her with a laugh.

"I don't."

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

The following evening after Noah was in bed, Bradley set you up for a nice shower while he cleaned up the kitchen from the chicken enchiladas you made for dinner. When Nat called him, he held his phone to his shoulder with his cheek and kept working.

He answered the call and asked, "Hey, what's up?"

"Your bachelor party with me and the guys starts at six o'clock on Thursday evening."

He laughed in response. "It's funny that this is the first time I'm hearing about it."

Bradley could practically feel her rolling her eyes through the phone. "Just be ready to go."

"Ready for what?" he asked, knowing better than to just trust her with this. The dating app was one thing, and that had turned out great in the end, but he wasn't going to blindly go with her on this.

"Uhhh... just some stuff."

"Natasha."

"Bradley."

"What did you do?"

There was a brief pause before she said, "Just be ready for dinner, booze and some strippers."

With a deep sigh, Bradley closed his eyes and said, "I'm going to have to check with my wife-to-be about the strippers, Nat." You had to know by now that you had nothing to worry about, and he wasn't even all that keen on going to a strip club, but he didn't want you to be upset.

"She knows the plan."

He froze as he loaded the dishwasher. "She does?"

Natasha laughed, and Bradley swore he felt his skin crawl. "She does. Be ready for six o'clock on Thursday."

"We have work on Friday-" 

She already ended the call. Bradley finished cleaning up when he heard you getting out of the shower. "God damn it, Nat," he muttered as he turned off the kitchen lights and made his way back to the bedroom where you were all wrapped up in a towel.

"Hi, Daddy."

He groaned at your words and your little smirk. "Hey, Baby. Can we talk for a minute?"

Your eyebrows shot up as you held your towel around you a little tighter. "What's wrong? Is it something about the wedding? Did the marriage license not go through? We only have six days."

"No, no," he promised, reaching for you. "It's not that. It's... I just got off the phone. With Nat."

You looked relieved as you leaned against him. "Good. I was worried for a second."

Bradley didn't quite know how to approach this topic now that he was here. Natasha would be as tenacious as a junkyard dog about her plans, so he had to say something. "You don't have anything to worry about."

You laughed softly. "That sounds nice."

He cleared his throat and said, "Nat called about my bachelor party night?" 

It came out more like a question than a statement, but you just nodded and said, "Dinner and drinks and the strip club."

"Yeah," he rasped. "You approved this whole thing?"

"Mmhmm. To be fair, it was all her idea. I just told her it was okay."

Bradley tipped your chin so you were looking up at him, your face fresh and perfect after your shower. "If this plan is not okay with you, then I'm not going."

"It's okay with me," you replied easily. "I trust you."

He studied your face. "I feel like I'm going to end up babysitting everyone on a work night. Two days before the wedding."

You snorted in response. "You'll have fun. And so will everyone else. You should go."

"Yeah, I'm going," he groaned. "Nat will just have the guys drag me out if I don't go willingly. But I don't really care about looking at strippers. I got you and your perfect tits right here at home."

You didn't stop him when he slowly tugged your towel from your fingers and pulled it open. And yeah, your tits looked perfect, but so did the swell of your pregnant belly and your soft skin. He was hard as soon as the towel hit the floor. 

"Daddy," you whined softly, shivering in his arms. It was December, and the nights were chilly in San Diego; you had taken to snuggling with him even more than usual in your sleep. "Now you need to warm me up."

"My pleasure," he replied, scooping you up and dropping you carefully onto the king sized bed that you picked out for the room. "Let me start right here," he whispered before he kissed you softly, covering your body gently with his. "Feeling warmer?"

You shifted beneath him, spreading your legs wider so he was nestled against your pussy, his cock straining against his jeans zipper. "A little bit," you whispered innocently. 

Bradley smirked, and when he brought his hand up to stroke your breast, he said, "I told you, I got these perfect tits right here."

"Bradley," you giggled as his fingers skimmed along your skin, but when he stroked his thumb across your tightly furled nipple, you arched your back and made a raspy gasping sound. Your eyes went wide as you looked up at him. "Oh my god," you moaned.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pulling his hand away, but you were already nodding vigorously. 

"It felt really good." The words rushed right from your lips as you rolled your hips up to meet his. "Different, I guess. I can't explain it."

When he rubbed your nipple between his thumb and index finger, he smirked. You were instantly squirming and moaning, reaching for his zipper with one hand and his hair with the other. Your eyes were wild even though he was being gentle, and he dipped his head down to whisper in your ear. "You're extra sensitive right now. It's the pregnancy hormones." He plucked and stroked as you started panting. "God damn, Princess. You like that?"

"Yes!" Your voice already sounded broken, and he'd barely touched you.

"Shh. Keep quiet like a good girl." But his words and hand seemed to have the opposite effect on you, because you just got louder. Bradley reached down to where you had his cock free from his zipper and pulled your hand up to his lips. He kissed your fingers before shoving them a little rough into your mouth. "You have to be quiet if you want me to play with you."

You moaned around your own fingers but nodded your head, and at least you were quieter now as Bradley kissed his way from your neck down to your tits. He didn't know how he was going to manage you when there were two kids in the house trying to sleep, but at the moment, he didn't really care. You were going to be his wife in a few short days. That thought alone had him bucking his cock against the bedding as he ran his mustache along your peaked nipple, inhaling your wildflower scent.

When he pulled your nipple into his mouth and sucked, he could tell your breasts were already a little bit bigger than before. Soon you'd be bigger everywhere. Getting even more sensitive by the day. He was painfully hard right now, listening to your muffled screams and tasting you. He licked and sucked until your tits were both damp from his mouth and overstimulated from his mustache. 

When you started bucking up, Bradley eased his hand down to cup your pussy and found that you were soaked. He couldn't remember Meredith getting quite like this as he dipped his middle finger into your slick and easing it down to your hole.

"Daddy," you gasped as you pulled your fingers from your mouth. "I'm going to come."

You looked shocked by your statement as you sank down around his finger. He could already feel your tight pussy fluttering around him as he whispered, "You want me to make it so good?"

His only answer was a whimper as you bit your lip, and he knew he'd make sure you were always taken care of in every way. Carefully, he added a second finger and started to circle your clit with his thumb. You were shaking a bit, your pretty tits bouncing softly as he ran his nose down the valley between your breasts. 

"Be a good girl. You know where to put those fingers, Princess," he coaxed, watching you slip them between your lips. Then he let you have his mouth on your tits again, while his hand worked at your pussy. He carefully drew a shaking orgasm out of you as you slobbered on your own fingers, not stopping until he was afraid you'd be too far gone soon.

"Daddy," you whined around your fingers as he ran his tongue flat across your nipple.

"Let me fuck you," he begged, realizing he was already close and needing to be inside you. "Please, Baby."

You reached for his cock and guided him home, and he fucked you with his jeans barely pulled down, coming inside you after just a few strokes. You were the picture of sated perfection with his cum oozing out of your pussy and your wet fingers skimming along your swollen belly and breasts. You were his young, pristine babysitter and his pregnant wife-to-be and everything in between. "I love you."

"Keep me warm all night, Daddy."

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

As you sent Bradley off with Natasha, you shared a conspiratorial look with her. You only felt slightly bad for keeping the bachelor party plans to yourself, and ultimately it made you feel good when Bradley went out for the night in an old pair of jeans and an uninspired shirt. He didn't look the part of a man who wanted to try to dazzle some strippers, and you loved him for it. 

"Bye, Bub," he said, kneeling to kiss Noah where he stood at your side. "Be good for Mommy." Then he stood and kissed you deeply. "I won't be out late, okay?"

"Stay out as late as you want," you told him, running your fingers along his cheek as he pulled away from you. "Just don't have a hangover on Saturday."

He smiled and focused on your face even as Nat and the guys yelled at him from Javy's car in the driveway. "Our wedding day. It'll be perfect. Like you."

"Go," you told him with a laugh even as you had butterflies in your belly. "Have fun. We'll be here when you get home."

With one more kiss, he was off and jogging down the walkway. You watched him climb into the backseat, then they all waved at you as Javy backed out of the driveway with Natasha in the front seat. You were wondering how long it would be until Bradley called you to tell you he had in fact been taken to see a bunch of male strippers. The guys had apparently all been so excited when Natasha mentioned the strip club, she had a hard time holding in her laughter. The plan all along was that she'd take Bradley and the rest of them to dinner and then to The Tiger's Cage- San Diego's premier male review.

But you didn't hear from them at all while you and Noah ate macaroni and cheese together. You still didn't hear a word as the two of you took Skittles for a short walk to look at Christmas lights. You even let Noah dip his hands in green paint to make a Christmas tree art project to hang on the refrigerator, but nobody called or texted you.

"Mommy?" Noah asked as you got him changed into his dinosaur pajamas. "Are you going to adopt me?"

You smiled and kissed him on his chubby cheek. "I am," you promised. But when you looked at his face, his brow was pinched with worry.

"Is it going to hurt?"

"Oh, Noah," you said with a surprised laugh, pulling him into your arms and holding him against his growing younger sibling. "Not at all! It won't feel like anything."

"Then why are you going to do it?" he asked, face muffled by your shoulder.

You soothed his back with your hand, considering his question. For all intents and purposes, you really were his mom. Bradley added you to his will; if anything happened to him, Noah was solely yours. "I kind of want to have a little piece of paper with an official signature that says we get to be together forever. Does that sound okay?"

"That's adoption?" he asked. 

"That's adoption."

"Yeah, okay," he agreed with a little shrug before climbing into bed. "Can I sleep with Skittles again?"

The pup appeared in the doorway, always excited to hear her name. "She can stay in here until Daddy gets home." You set the dog in bed with him and gave him a little kiss on his forehead as he yawned. "I love you."

"Love you, Mommy." He was half asleep as you turned on his night light and left the room. When you checked your phone, you smiled, having finally received the message you were waiting for. 

Bradley Bradshaw: Nat brought us to The Tiger's Cage. My name is on the marquee. It says CONGRATULATIONS DADDY BRADSHAW

You were doubled over in laughter, holding your belly and trying not to wet yourself. Because he also sent a picture. All of the guys were lined up under the marquee sign, and you were pleased to see that they all looked like they were being good sports about the entire thing. Bradley was the only one who looked slightly mortified.

You texted back Go have fun, Daddy Bradshaw!

Natasha sent you some random photos as you got ready for bed. You were surprised Jake was there, given your history with him, but even he looked like he was having fun. You laughed at a picture of Bradley drinking something pink and blended, and then the photos stopped. 

You wondered what was going on, but you kept yourself busy. Bradley told you not to clean up, promising to take care of everything tomorrow night before the wedding in the backyard on Saturday afternoon. Since you had the time and the privacy, you tried on your wedding dress one last time, sliding the fabric along your legs and zipping it up your side. You grabbed your purple paper crown, which was looking a lot worse for the wear now, and set it on your head. 

When you looked in the mirror, you smiled. The dress fit like a dream and hugged your bump. The crown looked fun at the moment, but you wouldn't wear it on Saturday; you were pretty sure Bradley considered it a 'bedroom' item at this point anyway. Mostly, you looked happy. Like someone who was accepted in this perfect place. Like a woman who was needed here. And you needed the Bradshaw boys to be your family.

You wore the dress around for a few minutes before carefully unzipping it and getting ready for bed. It was late now, but you requested the day off tomorrow, and you wanted to see Bradley when he got home from his bachelor party. After you checked on Noah and Skittles, you curled up on the living room couch. 

Every time you stopped to think about the wedding, you got a little anxious. When you asked Bradley what he had planned for dinner for the reception, he just told you he had everything under control. He said all you had to do was show up with some sort of wedding vows, but he didn't tell you anything that he had planned. 

You dozed off on the couch, somehow still exhausted all the time, and you had no idea how late it was when you woke up to the sound of laughter and a key in the front door.

"You smell like Axe body spray. I can't believe someone is marrying you."

"Jesus fuck, Nat. I smell like Axe because you took me to see male strippers."

"Well, I know I had a great time tonight," Natasha cackled as she guided Bradley inside, and you stood up with your hand clasped over your mouth. He was a swaying mess, and he was holding a huge wad of cash and a bag from a convenience store.

"Princess," he crooned softly when he saw you, and your heart skipped a beat at the look in his eyes.

"Hi, Daddy."

And then he was on you, so gentle in his overindulgence, it was almost surprising. He was looking around like he wasn't sure what to do with everything he was holding, trying to touch your belly.

"I'll see you on Saturday," Natasha said with a smile as she closed the door behind her, and then you were alone with him. 

"What's in the bag? Are why are you holding a roll of cash?" you asked as you guided him to the couch. 

He sat down hard and handed everything to you as you stood between his splayed legs. "The strippers were dudes. I made Nat and Javy stop so I could get you some Skittles. I'm really drunk. Can we get married soon?"

When you looked in the bag you found six packs of your favorite candy. "Wow, you must be very intoxicated if you bought a pack of Sour Skittles too."

"Did I?" he asked before stretching out on the couch. "Shit. I'll eat them. Come here."

You sat on the floor next to him and handed him the bag of Sour Skittles as you counted the nearly seven hundred dollars you were holding. "Bradley, where did this come from?" you asked in alarm.

But he just crunched on some of the candy in response. "Oh, these are fucking nasty. Baby, can we please get married?" he rambled, dumping more Skittles into his mouth.

You pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him there. "Were getting married in like thirty-six hours. Now can you please tell me where you got this money from?"

"Huh?" he grunted like he'd never seen it before. "Oh. Oh, that." Then he casually dumped the rest of the Sour Skittles and chewed them up while you laughed and shook his arm.

"Bradley!"

He swallowed and dropped the wrapper on the floor before pulling you up onto the couch with him. "Jake got tips for stripping, and Nat made him give me the cash."

"I'm sorry, what?" you asked with in shock as you tried to settle into a comfortable position on him.

"They tried to get Daddy Bradshaw up on stage. I pointed to Jake and said it was him."

You couldn't stop laughing now. "But you got the cash?"

"Yeah," he said, eyes drifting closed as he propped his arm behind his head. "A wedding gift. For the honeymoon."

Just as you settled your head on his chest, you popped back up again. "Are we going on a honeymoon?" You started to feel a little apprehensive about going away for an extended trip without Noah while you were pregnant, but Bradley brought his big hand up to settle on your back as he snuggled in a little more.

"Next year. After the baby's born. Anywhere you want to go."

He really did kind of smell like Axe body spray, and he definitely needed to take a shower, but you let him hold you for a few minutes while he slept.

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

Part 61 will be their wedding! Thanks so much for reading and letting me share this family with you! We're almost to the finish line. Thanks @caitsymichelle13 for the request about the coloring book; stay tuned. And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

[gaybabything]

Awwwww you have so many pets!! Agh they sound so cute. One day I will have a cat and I plan on naming it Pringles (if it is orange) and Pickles (for any other color)!!

OH THE ADVENTURE ZONE IS SO GOOD! But... you need to like their humor in order to like it- so I can understand if it isn't for you lol. Until the end of the first arch they are just following a module and having a good time, nothing really story heavy happens until later. (OH BUT ITS SO WORTH IT OMG-)

Favorite was ELA I always loved writing, I was just sad that it was almost NEVER creative writing. Just boring essays n' stuff. Least favorite was history/geography and... it shows. I am... REALLY dumb when it comes to those two things.

Favorite stuffed animal... hmmm. I would probably have to go with either Fred the GIANT stuffed bear, or my dragon with no wings (totally not a dinosaur- I refuse to admit that-) and his name is Quest!

As to what I am drawing: Right now I am working on my comic! I would show you but it might give away who I am haha (also- can't send pictures via anon)

Questions: What is underland chronicles about? Funny how similar our taste in shows was because MAN I know none of the books you listed. Do you have a favorite video game?

(also this is so fun! Thank you for doing this with me! I love meeting new people on here!!)

-🌻

History is my downfall as well!

Ok, so The Underland Chronicles follows the story of this 12 year old kid named Gregor. He lives in a small New York apartment with his mom and 2 sisters. One day, he and his baby sister fall down a vent shaft in their apartment building laundry room... and then keep falling. And falling. They wind up in this place called the Underland. It's an absolutely massive cave system running underneath like, the entire U.S. Down there is a full on city of people called Regalia. There, Gregor learns that he's a great warrior foretold by the prophecies of their people. And that basically all the animals in the underland are massive and sentient. There are giant bats that people "bond" with and can fly on the backs of. Giant man eating rats that want to kill all the humans in Regalia, giant cockroaches, giant mice, giant lizards, and just so much more.

This poor kid has been prophecized to basically save this kingdom from like a billion different threats. He has to kill this entire rat army, find a cure for a deadly plague, slay this extra giant rat dude, and like so much more. Also, this is written by Suzanne Collins, the author of the Hunger Games. So while these are books intended for 12 year olds, they are violent and graphic. So many characters die, and I think I cried over like every book. The last one really left me messed up. They are great. Like, for example, there's a scene where a character gets eaten alive by a giant pitcher plant, and they try to save her, but when they pull her out she's like completely dissolved by acid from the waist up. And on multiple occasions Gregor has been described as "drenched in blood" (not his own) and just absolutely traumatized. This kid gets messed up.

I love it literally so much. This series was like, the best thing my little 10 year old self ever read. I still encourage people to read it no matter your age cause it's just so good. It's also really hard to describe so my little summary does not do it justice at all.

My favorite video game is Little Nightmares! Specifically the first one, but I'm also a big fan of the second! I was also a big Undertale kid, but for some reason now I don't remember much of it?

Questions: Do you have a favorite video game? And aside from Warrior Cats, what's your favorite childhood book? Or favorite book in general?

(It's past 12 am here so I'm probably gonna go to bed in a bit!)

[letterstotheflre]

the teams reaction to you visiting adrian at work and they didn’t really take him seriously when he said he had a gf…

omg this was so fun to write lol. this is literally my first time ever writing for adrian/the peacemaker fandom, so i apologise if the characterisation is shit </3

also rip but i picture adrian as a “babe” kinda guy and it breaks my heart

you knock on the door of the dingy, abandoned building a couple of times then step back, waiting for someone to open it. you bite the inside of your cheek while you look around the street, clutching the paper bag in your hands.

when you hear it open you smile wide, thinking it was adrian. it falters when you see the blonde woman clad in a tight all black outfit.

she gives you a once over, raising her eyebrow at your yellow floral dress and the bag in your hand. "we don't want any cookies," she says, already moving to close the door.

"um, i don't sell any cookies," you tell her. you look down at yourself, wondering if that's what you actually look like.

she leans her shoulder against the frame and shrugs. "are you lost?"

you shake your head, "no, i don't think so." you look at the back of your hand and read the quick scribble you made before leaving the apartment. "is this henenlotter video?" your shoulders relax when she nods. "is adrian here?"

"yeah, he's inside."

you wait for her to let you in but seconds pass in awkward silence and she doesn't move. you sigh, "could i come in?"

with another shrug, she steps aside and lets you in, closing the door behind you. you look around the shop, noticing the clanking of a pipe near a window and the drip of another. there's a big desk in the middle, covered in maps and papers, with a couple of laptops on top of them.

"you have a visitor, chase," the woman says, grabbing a tablet and scrolling through her notes.

adrian turns around in his chair, wearing his costume minus the helmet. his head is thrown back, a pencil balancing on the tip of his nose which wobbles and falls to the floor when he stands to his feet. "babe!" he exclaims and in a series of quick, wide steps, he's standing in front of you. he takes your wrists in his hands, his dimples showing. "what are you doing here?"

"babe?" the guy who sat beside him repeats incredously. he's very muscular, the veins of his arms popping up even if he's not flexing.

you turn your attention back to your boyfriend, feeling four pair of eyes on the two of you. "you forgot your lunch," you whisper, offering him the bag.

he opens it eagerly, taking out the sandwich and inspecting the sides. "no mayo?"

"no mayo," you assure him. "i cut the edges too, except for the top one."

"awesome!" he takes out the rest of the food, looking at the vegetables in the ziplock. he nods to himself when he sees the carrots and cucumbers cut into dinosaur shapes. "you're the best," he praises you, giving you a loud smack on the cheek.

you can't help but blush a little, giving him a shy smile. you wouldn't be so bashful under a normal setting, but he's kissing you in front of his team mates. it's a bit nerve wracking.

"hold on, 'babe'?" the beefy man repeats himself, this time louder so that adrian can hear him.

"oh my god!" he places the bag on the table and grabs you by the shoulders, pushing you in front of him. "my best friend and my girlfriend are finally meeting! babe, this is P-- well, we're not using that nickname anymore. it makes it sound like penis, cause we say 'p and v'. i'm v, obviously-- not obviously, i don't have a vagina or anything, you know that."

"dude, no one says that," a bearded man groans exasperated.

adrian doesn't seem to pay him any mind. "anyway, this is peacemaker. or chris, my BFF forever. chris, this is my girlfriend. my GFF forever."

the man-- chris-- sputters, throwing his hands in the air. "don't say my name, man! way to ruin my secret identity."

"she knows mine. why would she snitch on you?" adrian tilts his head to the side.

"i promise not to say anything," you say meekly.

"wait," the bearded man interrupts. "this is your girlfriend? she's real?"

you frown. "of course i'm real. why wouldn't i be?"

there's an awkward silence that's broken by a dark skinned woman who sits in front of a laptop. "well," she starts awkwardly, "it's just... he's adrian, you know? we weren't very sure he was telling the truth."

your frown deepens and you cross your arms, cocking your hip to the side. "and why would he lie?"

chris laughs loudly. "cause he's weird as fuck. not many people would be willing to date him. harcourt didn't even want to spend a mission with him," he nods to the blonde woman that greeted you.

the black woman gives him a nasty look and turns back to you, trying to difuse the situation once he notices the anger in your face. "what he means is, adrian can be a little too much sometimes, and it was weird he never introduced you before. that's why we weren't too sure he was telling the truth-- clearly he was!" she says quickly when you open your mouth. "and now you're here, and very very real. i'm leota, it’s nice to meet you."

you look at her hesitantly. she seems to be the kindest out of all the people you met today, and you should probably try to make friends with adrian’s friends. or at least be civil with them. “i’m y/n,” you introduce yourself.

[venusiangguk]

let the games begin | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader

>>genre: pwp, smut, gamer!jk, light fluff at the end, established relationship 

>>word count: 5.7k

>>warnings: dom!jk, BRAT oc, but rly she just wants to be good 😔, big dick koo, spitting, spit eating, boobs, unprotected sex, cream pie, um...oh!, crying, crying during sex, not from pain tho, oc just gets overwhelmed :(, aftercare kinda?, boobies, comfort, idk man, riding, weird pet names lmao, oc is so tiny, big jiggly fat tits, OMG COCKWARMING, that’s literally the reason i wrote this lol, breasts, when jk cums.... v sexy, low key one sided sex 🤷🏻‍♀️ 

>>notes: all gamer lingo is from reddit, bc me and oc are the same in the way that we have no idea what the boys that are ignoring us for video games are saying so if it doesn’t make sense idc 🥲 yell @ me in an ask or sumn

>>summary: just another fic where oc rides jk in his gaming chair 🙄 pls still read it tho lmao its hot i promise

Hours. Several increments of 60 minutes. Multiple thousands of seconds. It’s been hours since Jeongguk has even acknowledged your presence. You huff and sigh dramatically, rolling around on his bed, accidentally knocking his Zero Two body pillow off. Good riddance. She’s part dinosaur. But still, nothing takes his attention from his prettily lit gaming set-up. You’ve come to your last resort.

Laying back on his pillows, you bunch your skirt up around your waist and then slip your hand down your teeny tiny, baby pink silk panties. They say ‘slut’ in small little silver rhinestones on the front. A gift from you’re extremely rude, extremely sexy talented gamer boyfriend. You let out an over the top moan, hoping to break through the sounds of his game. He does not move a single inch. Ever persistent, you stay at task, actually getting a little turned on with your quick moving little fingers rubbing over your clit. You let moans fall from your mouth freely, thinking about one of the few times he actually let you support him from under the desk. You drooling all over his swollen, uncut cock. Him leaving his mic on at your request. Him struggling to get out coherent sentences to his teammates. Him struggling to keep from moaning as he came silently down your throat. Mmm.

“Tae, Min, rush the blue zone?” He speaks into the mic. You can hear the clicking of his keyboard, as his fingers flit over the control keys. His head moves slightly as his eyes jump between his two monitor set-up trying to take everything in. And just like that, at the sound of his pretty voice, cute lisp and all, your mood is broken. You wanna hear that voice in your ear, calling you names (mean or sweet, you’re not picky), not talking about blue rushes or whatever. Your eyes roll.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself and slow your rapid breathing before you crawl to the foot of the bed, closer to him. His room is rather small, so the elaborate set-up he has extends almost to the end of his mattress, barely enough room for the gigantic chair to swivel around. However this is a plus for you because it makes it so you can rest your chin on his shoulder without disturbing him too much.

“NO! Do not rush blue! Are you stupid or just a fucking idiot?” Jeongguk flinches from how loud Jimin’s shrill voice is, coming from his headphones. Even you can hear it. “We just lost Hobi. We are outnumbered 6 to 3. In what fucking universe would a rush be a good idea? Are you trying to get flamed in a ranked match?”

“Okay damn, I forgot Hobi got no-scoped,” Jeongguk chuckles. He gently, minisculely, oh-so softly shrugs his shoulder, hinting that he wants you to get off, without saying it, knowing you would very-likely, potentially be offended and a little upset. But you don’t move. If he wants you off he can be a big boy and tell you. Maybe you even dig your chin into the tendons of his shoulder on purpose just to be a brat. He still doesn’t say anything apart from a tiny hiss of pain. In fact he deals with you pestering him until you start to mouth at the side of his neck, biting gently. Wet, open mouth kisses leaving a shiny trail on his pulse.

“Okay, you can’t do this right now.” He says, shrugging his shoulder hard, making you accidentally bite your lip. You whimper. “I’m in a ranked match, and we are already getting our asses handed to us. I can’t focus on you right now.” He doesn't even look at you, face glowing in the light of his pc. He probably doesn’t even register how harsh his words sound, too engrossed in the game.

You’re still close enough to hear from his head set when Taehyung says, “Is that __?” He sounds like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Yeah.” Is all Jeongguk says in response.

“Hasn’t she been at your place for like 4- On your right! On your ri- nice Kook- for like 4 days?”

“Yeah, she’s my girlfriend.” His tongue sticks out as he types in a combo attack. He smiles when he lands a kill.

Not for long you think. If he keeps this up, you’ll be finding other ways to spend your time. Like giving yourself a manicure with those cute little sanrio decals he got you the other day. A pretty manicure that would look so cute wrapped around his even prettier thick, hard, pink cock. Keywords being would look, not are going to look. He’s getting ignored for at least 15 minutes. You pout thinking about how you’ve been ignored for at least 3 hours. But still! You remain resolute in your punishment. No kisses, no handjobs, no nothing.

“I literally always hear her bitching about you playing,” Jimin chimes in, snickering. “Tell her to go paint her nails or something.”

Your jaws drops. Then Jeongguk has the audacity to chuckle. You see red.

“FUck this! And fuck you, and fuck your friends, and fuck your stupid ass no-scope, flame ass, rush ass game. And especially fuck you Park Jimin, I hope you never receive a blowjob ever again!” You stand up, pushing your skirt down, and buttoning your sweater all the way to the top. He will not be seeing your cleavage as you make your exit.

“AFK AFK-“ Jeongguk says quickly, getting tangled in his wires for a minute before accidentally tripping on the leg of his chair. You can hear the distant protest of his teammates coming from the abandoned headset. He hisses at the pain from almost falling, and grabs you by the arm, pulling you back.

“Let go of me!” You try to yank your arm out of his hold, very much throwing a fit. But he’s too fit, and you end up facing him, mouth set in a firm pout, and your eyebrows are scrunched in anger. You’re very tiny, but you hope you look evil. You’re eyes watering out of frustration probably doesn’t help though. His hands are firm and strong on your shoulders, keeping you in place.

Close the fucking gyms.

“Hey, hey,” He says, like he’s trying to soothe you. His big hands rub up and down your arms. You hate how it makes your anger die down just a smidge. “What’s wrong, why are you leaving?” He asks. He’s bent a little at the waist so he’s face to face with you, his big eyes searching yours.

Your bottom lip wobbles and your chin gets those ugly dents in it as it quivers. You sob. “B-because you’re n-not even paying att-t- attention to me!” Big cry baby tears roll down your cheeks. Jeongguk looks like he’s trying not to laugh and you give up. Head falling back, mouth hanging open in miserable wails as you drop to the ground defeated. You’re sat in a ‘w’ your skirt pillowing around you. You think you’re much too cute to lose your boyfriend to a video game. But you did your best, fought a valiant fight. It happens to the best of girls, you suppose.

“Chicken,” He coos the odd nickname he had bestowed upon you in the first month of dating. He drops to the floor as well and you can still hear the laugh in his voice. It only makes you cry harder.

“You’re laughing at me while I’m c-crying?” You blubber.

“I’m not!” He says, very much still laughing. He cups your face in his palms, thumbs wiping away your tears only for new ones to quickly take their place. He does his best to still his features into a more serious expression. A hint of a smile still lingers. “I’m not. I just think you’re cute, that’s all.” He kisses your nose.

You blink wide eyed, at the little affection. Then you remember you’re supposed to be having a tantrum. You sniffle.

“Will you please get back on the bed? I’m almost finished.” He asks gently.

You groan. “You’re still going to finish your game? While I’m crying?!” You blink rapidly, willing some more crocodile tears out of your eyes, that had been mostly dry prior.

“Chicky,” He whines, “It’s a ranked match, you know I can’t just quit.” He looks like he’s about to beg you to understand.

And you do. Gaming was really important to him, and he was really good at it, even earning a side income from streaming. But you’re a brat. One that has been neglected and ignored for hours. One that is always desperate for his attention and affection. Not to mention you’re still wet in your panties.

“Your friends were mean to me. They laughed at me.” You whisper, pout turned on heavy.

“They didn’t mean i-“

“And you laughed with them.” You cut him off, tears once again welling in your bambi eyes. You know you’re being a baby, but him laughing really did hurt your feelings.

His face falls and he looks like he’s grasping at straws trying to find a way to defend himself, but ultimately he gives up. He sighs and his head falls. “I know. That was mean of me, and I shouldn’t have done that. But I didn’t mean it,” He looks at you again. His fingers play with the edge of your skirt. “You know I didn’t. And you know I’m sorry. Right, chicken?”

You fight an unwanted smile and swat his hand away. Your resolve is crumbling quickly, but you still have it in you to be petty.

His shoulders sag. “What do I have to do to make you see I’m sorry?” He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, his fingers running down your cheek and your neck to fiddle with the top button of your done up cardigan. He catches your face lighting up and quickly interjects, “Besides quit the game.”

You huff.

His fingers undo the button he was playing with. “Do you want me to yell at them? Hmm?” He nuzzles your cheek, placing a soft kiss to the apple. He’s undoes another button. With the pull and tension the sweater had on your tits gone, they fall just a little and jiggle lightly. You still say nothing. “What if I let you sit with me while I play?” Another button. “And why are you so covered? Can’t I see?”

You’re a weak, weak girl.

You don’t protest as he removes the sweater from you completely, and pulls the collar of your shirt down so that your big tits spill out the top. He cups his hands around them and squeezes. So squishy and so so soft. Plush. He groans and buries his face in between them.

“You could suffocate me with these and I would say thank you, I love them that much.” He swats at them lightly watching as they bounce before settling back into place, perky and waiting for his mouth. But he doesn’t give in easily, pinching a nipple instead.

“Ouch!” You whine. You cup your little hands around them, to protect yourself. There’s so much overflow it’s obscene.

He spanks your butt lightly. “Alright, up. Let’s finish this game so that I can make you my own little creme-filled donut.”

Your eyes light up and you hurry to get to your feet. Cream-pies were a treat.

He settles all the way back in his gaming chair, and opens his arms for you. You straddle his waist, facing him, knees on opposite sides of his hips and you scoot as close to him as you can, arms wrapping around his neck. Your boobs are pressed to his chest, still out and bouncing freely with every shift of your body. Incentive for him to end the game quickly. You can feel a little semi in his pants. A sweet pink feeling bubbles in your chest. He got kinda hard just from touching your tits a little bit. True love. You settle over his cock, wiggling a pinch more to get comfy. He hisses and grips hard at your hips, trying to keep you still.

“If you’re up here you have to be good.” He warns, pushing you back some so he can look you in your eyes. You avoid eye contact, looking everywhere but him. The led lights look really pretty on the baby blue setting.

“Chicken…” He lowers his voice, sounding stern.

You whine, dropping on his lap even harder. “Fine but like- you have to hurry.”

“I will, now quit moving and hand me the headset.”

You reach back and grab it. “Don’t forget to yell at them.” You remind him with a kiss.

He gives you an exasperated look before turning the mic on again. “Back.” He says, adjusting the mouth piece.

“Finally! Jesus. Tae’s dead-“

“I’m still here though.” Taehyung interrupts.

Jimin carries on swiftly. “And I’m low on health, what took you so fucking long?”

“You were an asshole and I had to fix it.” You look at him while he looks past you, typing away.

“Me?!” Jimin squawks.

“Yes you. Both of you. You laughed at her.”

“So did you!” Taehyung defends.

“Yeah and it was fucked up.”

“Meet me by the tower to give me a med-kit. God she’s such a prissy little baby, Kook. You are so pussy-whipped.”

Before Jeongguk can reply you speak into the mic. “And you’re such a prissy little dwarf Jimin, shut the fuck up.”

You hear Jimin's loud cackle through the speakers on Jeongguk’s ears. “You’re all of what? 3’6? I don’t even know how Kook can be so whipped for someone who can’t even take his dick properly.”

Taehyung laughs, and Jeongguk starts to speak up, but you beat him to it. “You’re awfully concerned with what my boyfriend does with his dick. If you wanna ride it, just say so.”

“Oh you know I would, baby.” He’s still laughing when he says it.

Everyone’s kinda chuckling except you, small hands fisting Jeongguk’s shirt. He gives you a side-glance, and notices the angry scowl you have on your face. He brings a hand down and squeezes your butt for a second, showing you you still have his attention, at least somewhat. “Alright, that’s enough. Both of you.”

“Tell them I’m the only one that can ride it.” You pout, fingers scratching at the base of his neck, hands playing with his long hair. He nudges into the touch a little. Pretty kitty.

“Shhh, they know and you know. Everyone knows you’re the only one that gets to ride my dick.” He kisses you quick, and you hum content.

You hear a gagging noise in the background. Taehyung probably.

Then there’s a ping.

It happens so fast, you really can’t even be mad at Jeongguk.

“Oh that’s Yoongi! He wants to play ranked.” Jimin says.

“Uh-“ Jeongguk tries to speak.

“Just leave this match and we can join one with him, I’m tired of just sitting here. I don’t care if we drop down the rank list a little.” Taehyung says.

“Guys wait don’t a-“

“Okay same, I just accepted. Yoongi, you there?”

You hear a confirming grunt from the speakers. Jeongguk looks at you, panic in his eyes. Your stare back is sharp as daggers. Cold and hard.

He whines. “You guys are shit ass friends. You know she’s not gonna suck my dick for like a week now.”

His friends laugh and your little brain forms a thought. A very good one indeed.

You card your hands through his newly bleached blonde hair, still soft and silky despite the chemicals. Demeanor quickly changing from small and evil to small and cotton-candy sweet. You kiss his nose sweetly. “It’s okay, baby. Do your best. Show them how good you are. I wanna see you win.”

He looks at you with wide doe eyes. “Really?” You nod. “If I win this match I might go up a tier.” He smiles and sounds so happy. You almost feel bad for being a brat earlier. And for what you’re going to do now.

You’re good for a while. Let him play his little heart out. You let him do his thing for long enough to ensure that he’s fully engrossed in it once again. His little mouth is hanging open slightly , and his eyes move frantically across the screens. He keeps talking gibberish to his teammates, the ones that you’ve all but tuned out at this point. You take your chances, and press your lips to the side of his neck.

Jeongguk stills for a split second, but otherwise pays you no mind. Which is no problem. You weren’t very patient often, but you could be when you needed to. In the right circumstances. You place another kiss, this one wetter, your tongue coming out to meet his skin before your lips do. You keep your kisses light and quiet so his teammates don’t hear. You take in his scent, so sweet and gentle and just him. After nuzzling in for a small moment, you nibble at the vein running up his neck. You gasp softly and your pussy pulses in your panties when he just barely tilts his head, giving you better access, and more room to kiss and suck.

You pull back a little to look at him, but he doesn’t even seem like he’s aware you're there. If it weren’t for his subtle eager movements, you would think he’s ignoring you again. But this is good. You like him like this. Eager but nonchalant at the same time. It’ll make it even better when he loses it after trying to keep it cool for so long. You squirm until you’re off his lap and on your knees looking up at him.

Finally he meets your eyes. He shakes his head.

“No.” He mouths when your hands reach for the waistband of his sweats.

You jut your bottom lip out and whisper, “I’m not gonna suck it, I promise.”

He regards you silently for a moment before not saying anything and returning right back to his game. You grip the elastic of his pants and when you gingerly start to pull them down, he lifts his hips just a little bit to help you. You have to bite your lip to keeping from moaning.

Something about him ignoring you while simultaneously helping you in the slightest, most basic ways makes you go crazy. Like pussy pooling, mouth drooling, brain shorting crazy. It’s almost like you’re so irresistible to him that he just can’t go without you. Needs you just as bad as you need him, even though he fights it. But giving in tastes sweet, just like you. That’s why he always does it. Just for you, all for you.

With his sweats down his thighs, you see his cock. He went without briefs today, making your job much easier. Sometimes the stars just align and you’re meant to have a cock in you. You sigh and you look at his, resting against his leg. Your mouth waters and you just want it in your mouth so badly, desperate for it… but you deprive yourself for the sake of what you have in mind. He’s not hard yet, cock just a little plump and heavy with arousal. You spit in your hand and rub it on his cock just enough to make it wet, not wanting him fully erect yet.

As you raise to your feet his eyes go back and forth between you and his monitors. He looks confused.

“Uh- Yeah let’s rush…” He says distractedly as you climb back onto his lap.

You look at him as you move your soaked panties to the side, and run a finger over your clit. Your mouth opens in pleasure but you don’t let yourself moan. Your expressions are enough to make his pupils blow out and his irises to darken. You bring your shiny fingers up to his mouth. “Taste?” You whisper.

Again, he does the bare minimum. Just barely parting his lips, not moving forward even an inch to suck them into his mouth. Once they are in, he sucks lightly, gently, almost like he’s teasing, like he’s kinda bored. His tongue licks lazily at the tips, and slips between them.

You lean down and move one side of his headphones off his ear. You whisper, “That’s it, drool all over them.” You shove them in farther and press down on his tongue, trying to take just a little bit of control, but the slight change in your tone, and your actions makes him bite down on your fingers. Letting you know that that was not how tonight was going to go. That was never how it went with you two. You pull them out with a gasp. You scowl at him angrily. All he does is raise an eyebrow, before returning to his game. Jimin’s screaming at him through the headphones asking him where the fuck he is.

“Hey, sorry I got distracted. Where are you guys?”

“Get your dick sucked on your own time, Kook….”

You tune them out once again, reaching your hand in between yours and your boyfriend's body. You grab his cock, just a little firmer than when you were on your knees. You grab under the tip, and push it into your core about an inch before Jeongguk’s covering his mic and whispers scolding, “I’m not hard, __.”

You look at him, and nod cutely. “I know, I just- I wanna just feel you a little bit. Keep it inside me while you play. Feel close to you.” You give him soft baby kisses all over his cheek while you push it in some more. You’re dripping so even though he’s still kind of soft, it’s not too hard to get it all the way in.

“I’m not fucking you while I play.” He warns you.

You shrug against him. “Don’t get hard then.”

And just like that, the games begin.

Jeongguk playing, doing his best to ignore you just enough to seem disinterested. You kissing his neck, biting his collarbones. ‘Accidentally’ rolling your hips. Of course it happens. Jeongguk really did put up a good fight. Barely gave in the whole time you’ve been bothering him. But you both know your pussy is too good to ignore. Warm and wet around his slowly swelling cock.

“Getting a little tight huh?” You whisper. You suck his earlobe into your mouth, tongue playing with the big ring as you subtly grind forward, your clit just barely rubbing against his lower belly area.

His jaw clenches and he swallows thickly. He raises his shoulders in faux nonchalance.

You smile, and hum. Your hand travels to his nipple, grazing over the small bud through his thin shirt. His mouth drops open, and his eyebrows furrow. Visibly, that’s the only reaction you get. No moan, or praise. Inside of you, however, you can feel him finally grow to his full length. Your cunt is stretched around his fat cock and when you drop your eyes to your tummy there's a small bulge protruding where his cock is, buried so deep inside of you. You poke it, before rubbing your palm over it. So full.

“You fill me up so good, Koo,” You whine high pitched and breathy.

Finally now that you have him exactly right where you want him, you get comfy and then cease all movement. Truly just cockwarming him. Holding him inside your tight little pussy, while he fakes ignorance about how badly he wants to fuck up into you. You can tell he is struggling to maintain his facade by the light mist of sweat by his hairline. By the way all his answers to his friends are curt and short. You can tell how bad he wants you because his legs spread wider on their own accord, causing you to sink even farther down onto his big cock. You gasp as the tip nudges something deep inside of you.

You're wrapped around his body, arms looped around his shoulders. You have your face pressed into his neck again, and you’re breathing in his scent when you inhale, pressing soft kitten kisses when you exhale. You won’t beg. You’re desperate, just like always, and you want him so fucking bad, but you won’t beg. Not this time.

He lasts barely a minute longer. Hand coming up to cover his mic again. “Move,” His voice is strained, lust dripping down his chin. He’s flushed from arousal, and hot to the touch.

You shake your head where it's hiding in his neck. “Not while you’re playing. I want you to pay attention to me only.” You’re whiny and difficult, you know. But so does he. He knew how fussy and unbearable you were when he first started seeing you, you never bothering to hide it. You commend him for sticking around for as long as he has. You love him for it too.

You hear him groan in annoyance before he exits the game with nothing more than a short, “I gotta go.” effectively cutting off his friends yells of complaint. It was a ranked match after all. You smile smugly into his neck.

He grips the hair at the back of your head, yanking to make you look at him. You’re still smiling that obnoxious self-satisfied grin, even through the pain blossoming on your scalp.

“You think you’re so clever,” His eyes are roaming all over your face, a small smirk on his lips. He drags your mouth to his, kissing you deeply, more tongue and teeth than anything. He bites hard on your bottom lip, pulling till it snaps back. “Move.” He demands against your mouth. His breath is a little shaky, giving away just how turned on he really is.

And you’re such a good listener. You’re bad and difficult, but you’re also so so good for him. Yearning for his approval, always. Lifting your hips just keeping the swollen tip in before dropping back down onto his cock. Your skin smacks against his, while you whimper pathetically. “You’re so deep inside me,” You whisper, bouncing again. Jeongguk’s head falls back and he moans deep and loud.

“Fuck, love your pussy so much.” He says, eyes closed, just basking in the feel of your slippery cunt sliding up and down his cock.

You set your pace, and you feel his big hands slip under your skirt to grip at your ass, pulling your cheeks apart, digging in hard. He’s lifting you up and bringing you back down, setting the pace that he wants. Not caring much at all about how it feels for you. A little doll for him to use, and you let him because you’re so good for him. He can use you however he wants, and the pace he wants is a hard one to keep up. Not only is it fast, but it’s hard. Gasps and whines fall from your mouth.

He gives you a little break, taking a moment to play with your tits, bouncing all over due to the force of you riding him. His lip is drawn between his teeth as he watches you bounce, his hands coming up to cup your underboob, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples. You throw your head back at the sensation, a gasp filling the room.

“God you’re such a pain in my ass, but you’re such a pretty girl, my pretty, pretty girl,” He moans as he takes you in, your hair a wild mess, his cock poking your belly every time you fall back onto it, sweat dripping down the valley of your tits. His hands grip your tiny waist, pinkies almost reaching in the back. It really is a wonder how you can take his giant cock like you do. So tiny and so perfect. Made just for him. His lips latch onto a nipple, and your body curls in, cradling him to your chest, soft pants falling from your mouth as you let him make you feel good. Your palms land on his cheeks, and you guide his head away from your boobs so you can look him in his eyes.

“Will you help me?” You ask, breathless. You’re still moving, but your hips have slowed.

He hums. “Why?”

“‘M tired…” You say quietly. “Please?”

“No.” He says, shaking his head.

Your face falls and you feel like you might cry. “Why?” You whine.

“Because I said so. You wanted this so bad you had to interrupt me twice to get it. So do it yourself.” He smacks your ass lightly, urging you to hurry up.

Your palms on his face squeeze, trying to convey how badly you just want him to fuck you like you deserve; punish you for being so bad when you should have just been good for him. You never learn. You squeeze until you’re sure it stings a little. “Please.”

“I said, no,” He spits, a glob of it landing on your face. And you gasp in shock before your pussy contracts. Jeongguk grits his teeth, hands digging into your ass. “Fuck you just got so tight from me spitting on you, you’re so-“ He’s caught off guard, watching as you gather his spit on your cheek onto your finger before sucking on it and drinking it down. He groans and you feel him throb inside of you. “Fuck make me cum.”

You’re so tired and your thighs and knees are killing you, but you try to set a decent pace, one fast enough to make him cum, but moderate enough for you to maintain it. Your pussy squelches every time you bottom out on his pelvis, your slick making his lower abdomen shiny and sticky. His t-shirt is barely pulled up, just the bottom portion of his abs showing, but you see them flex and tense as he gets closer.

That fact that you both are still mostly clothed makes something hot burn inside you. Both too desperate to get naked, too turned on to even give it thought. Clothes must be on Jeongguk’s mind as well. He bunches the front of your skirt in his hand pulling it up so he can see where your bodies meet. Your panties are now dark pink, your arousal seeping through and getting all over the place, and your poor little pussy is so red and swollen from the force of you slamming down onto his cock.

“Awe, poor little angel.” He braces his hand on your belly, his thumb slipping in between your puffy pussy lips to rub at your clit, finally helping you get off. “Does it hurt, baby?”

You’re still bouncing as you nod and whimper. It doesn’t actually hurt that much, but you want to be coddled, needy and desperate for his affection. Always so needy and desperate when it comes to him.

He coos. “You’re doing so good for me, just a little longer, I’m almost there. You can do it right?”

You’re not sure when you started crying, but you are. Out of both pleasure and exhaustion. Or maybe you’re crying because he moved his hand away from your clit, but whatever the reason, a tiny little sob slips past your lips, and again you’re nodding frantically, assuring that yes, you can do it.

He settles back farther into the chair, hands coming up to just fondle and hold your bouncing tits. Not helping you at all, making you work so hard to prove yourself to him. His mouth is parting and his eyes are hazy as he watches you make him feel good. “That’s it baby, make me cum… fuck yeah, make me cum-“ His eyes squeeze shut and his back arches off of the chair. The hands on your boobs tighten.

“Please Kookie, please cum inside me, fill me up.” You beg, using the last of your energy to keep up the fast pace. “Show me how good I am, how good I make you feel. Please.” You hiccup, as you cry for him.

He’s nodding along with your words, breathy moans coming out with every breath he takes. His face is pulled in pleasure, and he’s looking at you when his eyes start to flutter and his brows scrunch. He whispers, soft and sexy, “You’re gonna make me cum baby. Just like that… I’m so close-” His body tenses, and his hold on your tits hurts. “Fuck, I’m cumming- fuck, baby,“ His mouth falls open, whines tumble from his lips and he cums. His big cock throbs as he spills inside of you. You can feel every pulse of it, can feel every spurt of cum fill you to the brim.

You reach down and rub at your clit frantically, left to find your own orgasm. Fucking him got you close so you don’t need much, you’ve been on edge all night, really. Underneath you, Jeongguk is panting, trying to catch his breath, body twitching, overstimulated from you grinding on his cock. He’s looking at you in awe as he lazily plays with your tits, still not helping one bit, aside from the occasional brush of his fingers on your nipples. He listens as desperate whimpers fall from your lips, working so hard to cum. But still, it takes not even a few minutes before you’re there, shaking and trembling from your orgasm, pussy contracting and gripping tight on Jeongguk’s sensitive and softening cock, still nestled inside of you. He winces from the hold your pussy has on him, but just grits his teeth and bares it, still watching you with an awestruck look on his face. As you finish, so tight around him, you can feel your cunt push some of his cum out. Jeongguk can feel it drip down his balls to the chair. Messy.

You’re trembling from the force of your climax, and soft teeny hiccuping sobs still escape your lips as you wrap yourself around his body, face buried into his neck to try and quiet your cries. His soft cock is still inside of you, keeping most of his cum from leaking out. He knows you like it when he stays inside, knows it makes you feel closer to him in some way.

Jeongguk is running gentle fingers up and down your back, cooing soft praises to soothe you. “You were so good, such a good girl for me.” He kisses your head. “You don’t have to cry, chicky.”

You sniff a few times, “I’m sorry for being bad,” you whimper.

He smiles, laughs lightly. “Don’t be sorry, you’re okay.” He wipes under your eyes, trying to clean up some of the mascara running down your cheeks. He lets you calm down for a little while longer before he hums. “Want me to help you with your nails?”

You quiet yourself. Sniff. “The kuromi ones?”

“Mhmm.”

You nod, before adding, “Yes, but you have to make sure you actually listen to me and do them right this time, okay?”

He rolls his eyes playfully. You’re nothing if not insufferable and bossy and desperate and so so good for him.

—————————

isn’t oc so cute 😔 anyway! i hope you liked it! sorry the ending low key sucks... i never know how to end smut scenes like... just kiss or something? as always, comments, notes, and feedback are so so loved and appreciated, as are asks and messages! i want to be friends !! thank you for reading ily :*

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i’ve been poking around the internet reading the original jurassic park screenplays for fun, and i’d like to make an official callout post for the jurassic park iii script for being EVEN MORE RUINOUS than what appears onscreen. 

evidence beneath the cut, especially egregious moments bolded very dramatically by yours truly--

CHILD (O.S.)

RRRRROW! GRRRRRR!

WINDER TO REVEAL -

CHARLIE, a three-year old boy, plays in a sandbox with his favorite toy dinosaurs. ALAN GRANT squats next to him and watches with great delight.

ELLIE SATLER stands over them, an INFANT in her arms -- a picture of the perfect family.

GRANT Oh, actually, Charlie, those two are herbivores. They wouldn't be interested in fighting each other. But these... (picking up two other dinosaurs) See, these are carnivores. And this one here -- see its claws -- this one here uses its claws to gouge at the throat of its opponent…

As Grant demonstrates with some GRUNT and GROANS of his own, he only succeeds in frightening the boy.

ELLIE (interrupting) Uh, Alan?

GRANT Hmm?

ELLIE He's three. Why don't you wait till he's a little older?

GRANT Oh, right. (back to Charlie) Happy dinosaurs.

He bounces them along the sandbox edge.

Then, the sound of a CAR ENGINE turning off and a door SLAMMING is heard.

ELLIE That must be Mark. (calling out) Mark, we’re back here!

Ellie and Grant turn to see --

MARK DEGLER coming through the gate carrying a briefcase. He's their age, handsome but not annoyingly so [lol, what a description], with a friendly, balance demeanor.

He and Ellie kiss tenderly on the lips.

ELLIE (CONT'D) Good day?

MARK Keeping the world safe. (re: baby) Here, let me take her.

Ellie hands off the baby.

ELLIE Mark, this is Alan Grant.

MARK Nice to meet you, Alan. I've heard a lot about you.

The two men shake hands, and we now realize it is Grant who is the stranger in this household. Little Charlie runs to his father, showing his dinosaur.

CHARLIE Daddy, this is a herbabore.

Grant smiles uncomfortably, a third wheel.

***

WINDEN to a PARROT in a large cage. Grant is teasing the bird with a cookie, holding a it just out of reach.

GRANT What's my name? Come on, Jack, say it. Is my name Alan? Say my name.

The bird doesn't respond.

GRANT (CONT'D) He used to know me. [sob!!!!!]

ELLIE Sorry, Alan it's been six years.

Grant shrugs, gives Jack the cookie, and heads towards the table. The three adults are finishing their dessert and coffee. The The children have been out to bed.

An awkward moment of silence. Uncomfortable smiles. Then --

MARK More coffee?

ELLIE (relived) Yes. Great.

Mark stands and collects their cups.

ELLIE (CONT'D) So, Mark's working at the State Department now.

GRANT Really? (To Mark) What do you do there?

MARK (with mock bravado) I could tell you about it, but than I'd have to kill you.

GRANT Indeed.

Mark smiles, nodding. Then he goes into the kitchen. Another uncomfortable silence.

ELLIE So what are you working on now?

GRANT We have a new site in Montana. At least until the money runs out.

ELLIE Anything good?

GRANT Raptors, mostly.

ELLIE My favorite.

Grant leans forward, realizing Ellie's one of the few people he can talk to about this.

GRANT You remember the sounds they made?

ELLIE I try not to.

GRANT We've done cranial scans, and raptors actually had a quite sophisticated resonating chamber. I have a theory that their ability to vocalize is the key to their social intelligence. The way they can work together as a team.

ELLIE You think they could talk to each other?

GRANT To a degree we never imagined.

And from the cage in the corner of the room...

JACK Bullshit!

Both look back at the parrot. ELLIE smiles.

ELLIE You taught him that.

***

6 EXT. SUBURBAN STREET - NIGHT 6

Ellie and Grant head toward the rental car parked in the driveway.

ELLIE Good luck with the fund raising.

GRANT It was never easy, but before Jurassic Park, you could find money. Somewhere. Now fossils are out. Everyone wants to see a real live dinosaur.

ELLIE Times change Alan. But you're the still the best. I mean that.

GRANT The last of my breed.

A long moment passes between them as both consider where they've ended up.

GRANT (CONT'D) I'd better get going.

ELLIE Let me know if I can help, Alan. You’re bad about asking for help, but please ask me. Anything, anytime. [sob!!!!!!]

GRANT (deep down knowing he never will) Okay. Goodbye, Ellie.

ELLIE Goodbye, Alan.

Not sure what the right thing to do is, they finally end up with a friendly hug. They keep it short.

Grant gets in his car. Starts the ENGINE.

He's about to pull off when Ellie knocks on the window. He rolls it down.

ELLIE (CONT'D) When I met you, I thought that one day millions of years ago, all the dinosaurs became extinct. Wiped out. But you told me otherwise. When conditions changed, dinosaurs changed. They became other things. They evolved.

GRANT A well-accepted theory.

ELLIE (simply) Alan don't be afraid to evolve.

Grant hears her, but Ellie knows it didn't really get through. A forced half-smile, than Grant waves goodbye.

Ellie watches as he drives off.

***

ERIC The lady you called, how do you know she can help us?

GRANT She's the one person I could always count on. And she's saved me more times than she realizes. I owe her everything.

A long beat as they walk.

GRANT (CONT'D) It's strikes me now I never told her that.

ERIC You should.

GRANT You're right.

[oh my god, is that alan EVOLVING? does this movie end on the vague suggestion that alan is going to shoot his shot and try to bust up ellie’s marriage? ... i know probably not. but MAYBE. also, i’m really glad that the movie added the “god bless you, ellie” line w/ all the world’s love in it.]

[fireheartpages]

ten minutes | c.d.

summary: She was brilliant and golden. But nothing gold can stay. Based off The Next Ten Minutes from The Last Five Years.

playlist: ten minutes | c.d.

word count: 3k

rating: 18+

a/n: this is for @imaginearyparties’s theater challenge!! i’m feeling a bit like i’m submitting an assignment on the day it’s due minutes before the deadline (which is actually what i should have been doing this week while i was writing this, oops) posting on the final day of the challenge lol but ilana ily i’m so sorry this is so late

The First Ten Minutes

The woman was an aberration.

Blonde hair and brilliance. Independence and spontaneity. Recklessness and stubbornness and a penchant to always do right and be right. She was warm, made of fireworks and glory. Impeccably smooth. Skilled in terrifyingly triumphant ways.

She was golden.

And you, you were not.

You were messy, and a bit dull compared to her. Where she was suave, you were stumbling. Where she was confident, you tended to cower. You were… incredibly average. Compared to her. You’d been working in the same building going on what, seven years now? Pepper still continuously got your name wrong. You were nothing remarkable.

That’s why it surprised you so much. Her question.

She was leaning on the table where you had your work spread out in front of you, mountains of papers (even though Stark Industries had promised a long time ago to make SHIELD paperless, yet another thing Tony fell through on) and your laptop open in front of you with a million tabs littering the top half-inch of the screen. Messy. You’d had someone drip coffee on you on the way in this morning, so your cardigan was currently thrown over a chair with Maria’s promise to find a Tide stick. You’d given up on trying to look nice and opted for presentable. Your hair had gone back away from your face about ten minutes into this workload.

And she… Carol—God. When did the woman not look perfect? She was—Fuck. She was really, really hot. She’s wearing a black turtle neck and slacks. Instead of a blazer, she has a leather jacket slung over her arm. An odd combination on anyone else, but on her, everything fell into place.

You’d definitely been staring to long at her though. That’s not a good response to a question.

“What?”

That’s actually an even worse one, good God, what are you doing?

“Would you wanna go with me?” she continued.

You stared again. Miraculously, you regained control of your motor functions. “Go with you… To the…”

Real winner.

“That museum. I know it’s a tourist trap, but, y’know, when on Earth.” She smirked at you, crossing an ankle over the other as she leaned on the table. When on Earth. What the fuck. Why is she so cool.

“The Met?”

Her eyes skimmed you, and you felt your face flush. Wow, her eyes were so pretty. You loved brown eyes. “Yeah, go for an hour, meet the dinosaurs.”

You let out a laugh. Oh, God, you’re laughing at the galaxy’s strongest Avenger.

“Are you laughing at me?” She was laughing too now, and it sounded like the best thing you’d ever heard.

“Um, sorry,” you said, trying to stop. Or, hide it, at least. “The… The Met is an art museum.”

“So, no dinosaurs?”

“You’re thinking of the Smithsonian.”

“Well, how far is that one?”

“It’s in D.C.”

“And?”

“We can go to the Met,” you said, leaning forward.

“Alright, let’s go.” She pushed herself off the table and gave you a look.

“Right now?”

“Yeah.” She held a hand out. And you took it.

Maybe you were a bad New Yorker because, and in your defense, you moved from California only, like, eight years ago, you’d never actually been to the Met. You’d seen it. Read articles. Had a date on the steps (which you’re starting to realize was a very sorry excuse for a date).

Not that this was a date. No, surely not.

There was no way you were on a date with Earth’s Mightiest Avenger right now.

But—ohmygod, was she holding your hand?

No—yes. Yes, she’d just grabbed your hand, and now you’re walking through the rooms of beautiful and priceless artwork and your eyes are stuck on the smile she’s casting back at you. It was euphoric.

And an hour or so later, you’d been through nearly every exhibit. You wouldn’t be able to come up with a single interesting thing about anything you’d seen. Had you even really seen it? You’d seen her. Seen her wandering about countless pieces of art and been unable to stop the thought that she belonged there amongst them.

And then she was wondering towards the exit, and suddenly you were terrified to walk back through those doors because it meant today was over. She probably regretted asking you—you couldn’t have been much fun between ogling her and knowing an insufferable amount about fashion.

She led you down the steps before slinging an arm around your shoulder and then suddenly any logical thought left your mind.

“Do you have to get back?”

Were you staring? You might be staring. Brain to mouth! Say something!

“What?” Stellar.

“To the office,” she said, that smirk playing with her lips. You wanted to play with her lips. “I’m sure SHIELD doesn’t appreciate that I took their best agent during the middle of the workday.

You had left like that, hadn’t you? Crap, maybe you could swing an Avengers-pardon on Maria.

You opened your mouth to respond when your phone chimed. Speak of the devil, you thought, pulling it out to reveal a text from Maria telling you to meet you at a cafe she sent the address to.

You put on your best smile, trying not to let it reveal how dejected you felt. “Duty calls.”

“Where’s that?” she asked, motioning told your phone screen.

“It’s a cafe she likes. About a ten minute walk away.” You shoved your phone back in the pocket of your coat and looked up at her, noting that smirk has returned.

“So I have ten minutes?”

“What?” You were going to scrub that word from your vocabulary, dear God.

“You said it’s a ten minute walk away. I have ten minutes, then?”

“Ten minutes for what?” you asked as she offered you her arm and motioned for you to lead the way. You took that first step with your heart in your throat.

“Ten minutes to get you to fall in love with me.”

The Next Ten Minutes

Fall you did.

You’d been dating Carol Danvers for almost three years now. She was irrevocably perfect and everything you could have ever needed. In the last three years, you’d done more than you thought you would have done in this lifetime. Visited planets you’d never known existed, learned new languages, a few being alien, and—bought a house.

You owned a house with your girlfriend, the Avenger, Carol Danvers, in upstate New York.

Also, a massive promotion working with the Avengers Initiative, but you weren’t one to brag.

You were busy. You both were. You made time for each other, though. Few minutes here, couple hours there, a weekend in D.C. (Carol finally got to see the dinosaurs). You’d agreed: busy, but never too busy for each other.

Carol tended to take advantage of this rule.

You had been in the middle of working on a very important presentation. It was in mere days, and you were terrified and underqualified to be doing it. Maria had assured you over and over again that you were the only person for the job. The only option, maybe. But you weren’t one to argue with the woman. You did as you were told, and worked your ass off for the best damn career you could have imagined.

Carol loved it. She loved your dedication to what you were passionate about. She told you all the time. She loved your mouth. She really loved your mouth. She loved to watch you talk. The first time she’d ever seen you present for the Avengers, she’d taken you into a spare soon after the meeting and kissed you long and hard. It was the first time you’d ever made her come.

You were practicing your presentation when you noticed her watching you from the door. She was leaning against it, suave and attractive as ever. She’d pushed the sleeves of her shirt up to display her forearms. It was the first thing you noticed.

“Hi,” you said, stopping mid-pace. You were failing to hide your smile.

“Hi,” she said, pushing off the door and stalking towards you.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Her eyes were locked on you, sending a chill down your spine. “You have a sec?”

You turned back to your work, glancing at the clock on the desk. “Maybe a minute. Why, what’s up?”

“Give me ten.”

“What?”

“Ten minutes,” she said, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to her.

Fuck your job. No, seriously, who really needs a job?

Not when Carol is pressing you up against the door of your office and shoving your underwear aside and pushing one—two fingers in you.

You gasped, tightening your grip on her hair. She groaned, a low and throaty thing under her breath before attaching her lips to your neck and setting every nerve ending in your body on fire. You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped you as she twisted her hand, grinding into your clit.

You tried to say her name—say anything, but she brought her mouth back to yours and kissed you hard and long and suddenly you were dizzy under her. She pressed you harder against the wall, devouring every sound you made. You clawed at her jeans, attempting to get your hands on her.

Suddenly, she slid her fingers out of you, laughing at the whine you gave. You quickly shut up as you watched her bring her fingers to her mouth. She moaned, eyes fluttering close.

“I’ve gotta get my mouth on you,” she sighed, giving you this look before dropping to her knees.

“Car—“ You felt her at your hips, pushing your skirt around your waist before taking your thigh and hoisting it over her shoulder. “Carol,” you warned.

“Yeah?” she said innocently, casting a look up at you. She trained her gaze back on what was in front of her, then licked her lips.

Nope, nothing. Nothing at all.

Your soul was about to leave your body. Her mouth was glued to the apex of your thighs. She ate like a starved woman. Like you were the first appetizing thing she’d seen in months. Like she was trapped and the only way out was through you.

You were not going to last long. You hadn’t even had the chance to touch her before she’d buried herself in you.

Release nearly surprised you with the intensity. One moment you were clawing at her, hands buried in her hair and pleasure scaring away any rational thoughts (like how you weren’t sure the door was locked or that you should probably maybe be a bit quieter), and then you were coming hard on her tongue. It covered every inch of you like honey seeping into your skin.

Carol sighed, lapping up everything you gave her and sending aftershocks through you. Finally, she stood up, readjusting your skirt to cover your ass. You took a shaky breath, hand covering hers.

“Did you—“ You looked down then back at Carol, who looked like you’d imagine the expression “the cat got the cream.” “Did you rip my underwear?”

“It was in my way.”

“Carol!”

She just laughed, picking up said underwear from the floor. She shoved it in the pocket of her jacket before throwing an arm around your shoulders and trying to lead you out of there. You resisted, because you had a mountain of work and a very important presentation in a few days. But you can’t say you put up that much of a fight.

The pathway was crawling with lights. Everywhere you looked, something was lit up. You laughed as she led you down it. All the brightness, the glowing warmth reminded you of her.

“Car, what is all this?” You burrowed a bit into her side.

“A surprise.” She smirked at you.

“What kinda surprise?”

“The good kind.” She looked back forward, a muscle in her jaw flexing. Was she… nervous?

You let her lead you through the path of lights, tucked under her warmth. You let yourself get lost in the atmosphere as your feet carried you aimlessly beside her, until she stopped in front of a bench with something sat on it. A small box.

“What…” You looked from the bench up to her.

“Open it,” she said.

You picked it up, opening the little thing to reveal a ring. Your breath stuck in your throat. “Carol,” you whispered, barely managing to say anything at all.

She dropped to her knee in front of you for the second time that day.

The Last Ten Minutes

Date night was your favorite night.

It had been coming less and less often, but that didn’t mean you looked forward to it any less. The two of you had been making it work for five years now. Through thick busy schedules and thin poor connection with your off-world calls. She never truly ceased to amaze you.

Maybe she could be on time though.

Seriously, she was awesome. You loved her. But she also knew how much tonight meant to you and she promised she would be here. On time. Six pm is not an unreasonable time to be somewhere. It was nearing six forty now.

You finished off your glass of wine, glancing to the door, then to the timer you’d set for the cookies. Oatmeal raisin, her favorite. Who liked raisin cookies?

The timer still had fifteen minutes left on it. You’d put them in when you realized she was more than a few minutes late, maybe just to kill the time. Everything else could be reheated in the oven since it’d be already hot, right?

And yet, she still wasn’t there.

You paced for another minute before you heard motion outside the door of your stared apartment. Excitement was quelled by anger and annoyance as she walked in the door, still in her suit. Seriously, she didn’t even bother to change?

“You’re late,” was the first thing out of your mouth.

“Sorry,” she sighed. “There was a problem off-world. I tried to get back as fast as I could.”

“I thought you weren’t going off-world for a while.” You crossed your arms over your chest, steeling up. You’d been having this fight for a while now. She was too inaccessible off-world. You’d just lost a close friend, and you needed her to be here for now. She was always jumping to solve the problem the farthest from home. Why couldn’t she let someone else handle it? Or at least let you know before leaving, rather than showing up to the compound and having to hear about it from someone else.

Just once you wanted to be her first priority.

“They asked me to—“

“I asked you to be here.” You watched as she snapped her jaw closed, a muscle there flexing. “You promised you would be here for me, Carol.”

“Baby, listen—“ You rolled your eyes. “I have commitments, okay?”

“Am I even one of them?” you snapped.

“I married you, didn’t I?”

You laughed, a dry and humorless thing. “Don’t strain yourself trying to say it like it means anything to you. What, was I just some obligation you had to fill?”

“No, of course not. Those, out there,” she said, motioning to the door and beyond it. “Those are obligations. You, you’re a—”

“If the next word out of your mouth isn’t ‘priority,’ don’t bother.”

She looked away from you, clenching her hands into tight fists, a small glow appearing there. That used to comfort you. Her glow. Now, it’s the reason for all your problems.

“You’re a priority.”

“You sure don’t act like it.”

She sighed, scrubbing a hand over her face. “I’m trying, okay?”

“No, Carol, you aren’t. And that’s the problem!”

You didn’t notice when you started crying. You picked up on it sometime around when you started to feel your heart shatter.

She wasn’t looking at you anymore, just staring at the door like she wanted nothing more than to leave. How fitting, you thought. She couldn’t even try to pretend like she cared.

“What do you want me to do then?” she spat, throwing her arms wide.

“I just wanted you to be here. I needed you to be here.” Your voice was thin and watery now. It felt like defeat.

“You know the things I have to do. You know my job—”

“Carol, I work with you! I see Nat coming home to Maria every night, and Thor sustaining relationships here. You don’t get to blame this on anyone or anything other than yourself, because if you wanted to, you would!”

Her stare was blank when it fell on you.

“When did you stop wanting to?”

She just sighed and turned around. “What do you want me to do, then? I’m here right now. This is what you get.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

She huffed a laugh. “I’m trying to make this work.”

“How? How exactly? I asked you for something so simple, just to stay here. Just be with me for a while.” You wiped at your face, willing her to turn back to you.

Carol took a deep breath. “Maybe we should take a break,” she said levelly, reaching into your chest and pulling your heart out.

You gave a soft sob. Her hand was already on the doorknob. “Where are you going?”

“Out, away, off-world.” Finally, she met your gaze. “I’ll come back.”

“Sure,” you whispered, watching her shut the door behind her, taking your heart with her.

You didn’t have long to wallow before the timer on the stove went off and you looked over to see the cookies you’d made for her were done. The table was still set, and all the food you’d made was still sitting in their serving dishes for the dinner you were never going to have. You gingerly took the cookies out of the oven, wondering what you were going to do with the dozen cookies she’d left you with. This was just embarrassing.

That timer had told you it had only taken her ten minutes to ruin your marriage, and to break your heart.