#i will always stick with him because i love him

[thebubblesareevil]

Who’s the bad guy here, really?

(This is pretty rushed, but I completely forgot about this and didn't want to abandon it. Hope you like it)

Danny was tired.

It had been 3 months since he ran away from home and joined the league…well technically he joined the JR league. Apparently, once the league realized he was actually a 15 year old, they decided that MAYBE they shouldn't have him fighting Bizarro on his own.

Danny didn’t get it, but they got him enrolled in school and made sure he wouldn’t miss too many classes so that was a bonus.

That was about a month ago and Danny was certain the main team was mad at him for lying about being a half ghost. He thought he made some real friends before they moved him to the Jr squad, but no one was answering him.

Any hero that DID answer him always gave the same excuse.

“I’m sorry Danny, I’d love to hang out but we have to deal with this new villain duo!”

What’s worse is that any enquiry about the so-called villains was greeted with nervous glances and swift retreats.

(Danny was sure there were no new villain, the team would have heard about them by now)

The team did their best to cheer him after every evasion, but it really wasn't helping.

He did this to himself, but that was fine. His family was safe and that's all that mattered.

Three months ago, the GIW launched an all out war against phantom in amity park. Anyone that was suspected of having anything to do with ghosts was taken in for questioning and wouldn't come back for days. They even started to get aggressive towards his parents after they started advocating for Phantom.

So Danny did the only thing he could.

He left, as publicly as possible, Danny ran away from the only home he had ever known to protect his family.

And now his friends had ditched him because he lied.

Danny felt like shit.

---------

"This is the third attack on a League base in 2 weeks." Batman said sternly to the heroes surrounding the table. He pressed a button.

A holograph appeared over the table depicting 2 Villains carrying large weapons, destroying everything in their wake. The 2 were incredibly resilient. The larger of the two was taking hits from wildcat and the smaller tossed canary across the room, completely ignoring her screams.

Both had been stationed at the outpost to guard against these exact 2 villains, and both were still recovering.

Their threat level was raised, now it was their turn to step in.

-------

Danny dragged himself out of bed as he got up early for training. He heard a knock at the door.

"Come in." He shouted as he put on his shirt.

Conner walked in, scowling as he saw some of the scars littering Danny's chest.

"You ready? We're training with Batman today."

Danny scoffed. "Ready? No. No one's ready for Batman, I am excited though.

The two headed towards the dining room to eat before training when suddenly the alarms blared. They rushed to the comm room, meeting up with M'gann on the way.

"What's going on?!" She asked, bracing herself as the base shook.

"No idea, whatever it is its not good."

As they rushed into the comm room they greeted by the sight of a woman fighting hand to hand with Batman. Superman was on the floor covered in green goop while a large man was getting ready to toss Green Arrow across the room.

The teens stood in shock. Though only one spoke.

Well, maybe spoke wasn't the right word.

"MOM?!?!? DAD?!?!" Danny yelled.

The man spun around suddenly, casually tossing green arrow across the room.

"DANNO!!! MADDIE ITS DANNY!!!"

The man raced over, only to be cut off by the Flash blocking his path.

"Danny, run! We'll hold them off, just get out of here!"

Danny stood there dumbfounded.

His dad on the other hand, wasn't.

"You stay away from my son you damn creep!" He shouted as the Flash charged him, somehow not noticing the man pull out...a baseball bat?

Danny winced as flash got hit with the Fenton anti-creep stick.

"Dad! Stop! They're my friends!" He tried to placate his dad.

"Friends don't convince you to run away from home to join a cult!" He then noticed the other two teens. "Holy Fudge! MADDIE THERES MORE KIDS!!!" He shouted as his wife held off the creep from Gotham.

"Dad! The League didn't make me leave! And it isn't a cult!"

This made the man pause.

"I left to protect you guys! The GIW was gonna come for you, so I led them away! I only joined the league so I could keep helping people!" Danny yelled.

The orange-clad man stopped, giving his son a sad look.

"It's not your job to protect us son, it's our job to protect you." He said picking his son up and wrapping him in a bear hug.

Conner just stood there confused as M'gann clapped and grinned out the outcome.

"Now can you tell mom to stop trying to mace Batman?" Danny asked when his dad put him down. The two turned to the fighting duo.

"Let's give them 5 more minutes. Your mom hasn't had this much fun since she ditched that cult in Asia."

(Feel free to take this idea and run with it. I like the idea that the fentons are a force of nature that defies explanation..but Maddie definitely stole their early ecto samples from the lazarus pit)

[your-reference-here]

Okay, I know I already reblogged this, but my brain has been absolutely gnawing on this AU's possibilities so I had to write some of my ideas down.

Boq is definitely the DM. He seems like the kind of guy who would have gotten into the game back home and then brought it to Shiz. He tries for weeks to get Galinda to play, but it's not until he mentions it to Nessa, who then mentions it to Elphaba, who THEN mentions it to Galinda that a game comes together. Fiyero tags along too because he's curious...or at least that's what he says. It's not until they actually arrive at their session zero character creation that he rolls up with a fully prepared character sheet and they all realize "oh this guy knows this game."

Here's what I think everyone decides to play:

Galinda = College of Glamour Bard. I put this in my original reblog and I'm sticking with that. The whole subclass just feels like it was made for her.

Elphaba = Wild Magic Sorcerer. I was torn on whether Wild Magic or Divine Soul would be her subclass, but thinking it over more I've decided to say fuck it, give her the Wild Magic Sorcerer build because it fits thematically and because its shenanigans are fun. In universe, my excuse is Boq suggested choosing options that they could relate to as a first time player, so there you go.

Nessa = Order Domain Cleric. In my head, Boq mentions that cleric is his favorite class, so Nessa decides to explore those options. Something about the Order Domain just speaks to her...maybe it's the desire for some control over her own life, maybe it's a dark foreshadow of who she will become later. But who's looking into it that deeply?

Fiyero = Cavalier Fighter. He just wants to kick ass on a horse. It's also a nice way to uphold a "knight in shining armor" appearance for his peers. Galinda loves it, while Elphaba just rolls her eyes and calls him out for being a horse boy.

The first game is a simple fetch quest that quickly goes off the rails. This isn't unusual as far as D&D goes, but it does escalate to a loud enough volume that the crew gets kicked out of the library and has to find another spot to play. This could be a number of places, but I like to think Doctor Dillamond is kind enough to allow them access to his classroom, mostly to keep them all out of trouble and because of his soft spot for Elphaba (he's happy to see her making friends and joining in whatever this strange social club is). His only request is that whatever mess they make is cleaned up before the first class the following day. It's very close once or twice.

Now, in terms of how our cast actually are as players...

Galinda is the confused enthusiast who has no idea what she's doing but is going to do everything with an air of exaggerated flair. This results in her being the unintentional button pusher/trap trigger-er/the one the party is constantly yelling "NO!" at a second too late. Somehow, she always manages to pull through whatever mess she is in or has gotten the entire party in, mostly because she's able to gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss everyone else, including the DM, on a whim.

Elphaba is a born rules lawyer who comes to the game having memorized all her spells and abilities, only to find herself consistently exasperated by Galinda's choices and/or fighting with Fiyero who knows the game so well that he's found countless loopholes to exploit. She does end up having fun but hoo boy does she come close to magically throwing a book at someone's head on multiple occasions.

Fiyero is just vibing and, though he won't admit it out loud, is genuinely having a good time with these people and it's the happiest he's been in a long time.

Nessa is the only one trying to keep the party on track with the plot for Boq's sake, who is beginning to question bringing this particular group of people together.

UPDATE: I just saw the spellbook again in the artwork and was like "shit that's really a wizard thing to have a spellbook" and then I remembered the beauty of the multi-class, so my solution is that Elphaba decides to multi-class later on into a School of Transmutation Wizard.

dnd au request

[filthweb]

Oooo, what about fucking married geto!?

He knows he shouldn't be doing this, his wife doesn't deserve this, she's not actually a bad wife, she's just kinda boring ya know? But you are so young and flexible, both physically and morally, and so fun, you do whatever freaky shit he asks and you do it with a smile.

hmmmm...marrier cult leader!geto??? yeah i believe he'd be into freaky shit but his wife is just plain boring for him, as a person she is sweetest. he only married her to gain an asset that he can use later.

then he met you, a curse user who doesn't know how to control her full potential yet, so he takes you under his wing. it's only after a few weeks he realized how obedient you are, and so easy to manipulate. and you expect him not to take advantage of it? impossible.

you, an innocent sweet young girl, are letting him go raw in you for the first time. hell he hasn't even put it in without a condom with his wife yet. but something about exploitating your pussy is such a fucking turn on. he asks if you're on birth control but you're too fucked out to process and answer anything. you just nod. perfect. he is planning to turn you into his personal cumdump.

the next time you meet his wife, you're unable to make eye contact with her. not like you regret it—you'll continue because you love it—but because she is always so sweet to you that you wonder if she never knew what her husband is like.

a few weeks later, you come crying to suguru. at moments like this, he'd fuck your sadness away but when he realized the pink stick your hand, his world was shaken.

[ptergwen]

hiii

so this might me dirty but hear me out

It has gotten to me that mans come can meddle w the woman’s dna

so with this as an inspiration, and I know it’s kinda cliche but

stark!reader suddenly having spider senses or smh (not pregnancy)

oh and it’s for Tom Holland spider man

have an amazing dayy

a parker thing

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w/c: ?

warnings: smut (p in v unprotected, lowkey dom!peter and reader), swearing

a/n: jump scare if you didn't see my post lmao i'm back y'all! i missed u guys and missed writing lots so i’ll be here from time to time again :) i had so much fun with this req thank you for the idea! much love to u all <3

you catch yourself dozing off and jerk your head up instinctively. one short, loud snore passes your lips as you do so, eyes opening wide. you blink your tired eyes a few times as you readjust to the harsh lighting.

ugh, you fell asleep in the lab, something you always chastise peter and your dad for doing. they're notorious for their long hours spent messing around with stark tech. you've lost count of how many times you've woken up to an empty spot in bed where your boyfriend should be, instead finding him fast asleep surrounded by cups of coffee and a delirious tony still on the grind.

tonight, you're the stark who's in the lab past their bedtime. you had the day to yourself and decided to use your free time to upgrade your suit. it had had a few hiccups during the team's last mission, so you wanted to work on it before the next one. what was supposed to be a few minor tweaks turned into a whole day of tweaking.

you scoff at yourself and wipe some drool that crusted onto your chin. oddly enough, you almost instantly refocus on the screen in front of you. it's been like this for most of the day. you're way more concentrated than usual for some reason, more aware. you figure it's because peter has been out on patrol and couldn't distract you.

"are you finished for the night, boss? you aren't usually here this late."

"i know, but i’m gonna stay a little longer. i’ll be done soon...i think."

friday dims the lights directly overhead so they aren't as harsh. you smile.

"thanks, fri."

you sit up in your seat, scooting in closer to the screen displaying your suit. you carefully look over the prototype and pick up a pen to write yourself some notes. when you go to put down the pen, it sticks to your palm. you shake your hand to try to get it off. it stays stuck.

"huh."

you use your other hand to pry the pen off of you.

"weird."

first you have heightened senses, now you're sticky. if you didn't have ordinary stark dna, you'd think you were part arachnid like peter.

you're not sure why, but you suddenly stand up and turn towards the main doors to the lab. they slide open a few seconds later. peter walks inside, spider suit on and mask off. he pads over to you with a soft smile.

"there you are. friday said i could find you down here."

peter pecks your lips and envelopes you in a hug. you sign contentedly, face nuzzled into his neck and arms winding around him.

"yeah, she's probably sick of me. i've been down here all day."

"you're really locked in, huh? how's the suit coming along?"

peter's fingers rub up and down your back ever so lightly. just the small touch practically sends shivers down your spine.

"good. fixed everything and double checked, then triple checked. started adding some new stuff, too."

"new features? like what?"

"you know the one i was telling you about..."

you trail off as peter's hands slide down to your ass. he pulls you in closer to himself, letting his hands rest there. you peek up at him, heart speeding up.

"go on, i’m listening."

peter gives your ass a gentle squeeze. it's an innocent gesture, really, but your senses are going crazy right now and you can't help but to get turned on. you always tease peter about how easily he's turned on. if this is what it feels like for him, now you understand.

"hm, i'm bored of talking about the suit. tell me about patrol."

"it was good! got a lot of action today. i mean, i guess that's not good 'cause that means there's more crime and stuff, but y'know. anyway..."

you stare at peter's lips, but don't listen to a word he's saying. it's the first time today you can't focus. he's pressed right up against you in his damned tight spider suit, and his hands are still on your ass, and you're so hypersensitive and hyper aware. all you can think about is how bad you need him.

"y/n? you okay?"

peter must have noticed you spacing out.

your gaze flicks between his eyes and lips before your own lips wordlessly capture his in a searing kiss. peter lets out a breathy chuckle, caught a bit off guard by your abruptness. he deepens the kiss for a moment, then pulls back with a look of amusement. you bite back a cheeky smile.

"horny."

peter's features form a smirk.

"i got you, baby."

he kisses you again. his tongue tangles with yours, a sigh passing your lips. peter lifts you up, grip becoming firmer on your ass. you wrap your legs around his waist. he kisses down your neck until he finds a spot he wants to mark. you tilt your head to the side so he has more access. peter's lips suck roughly on your skin, teeth nipping at it playfully. you let out a shaky breath.

peter presses one last kiss to what's sure to become a hickey to soothe it. you tilt his chin up towards you again, lips smashing into his, holding him in place by the back of his head. he carries you to the nearest table while your intertwined lips move desperately against each other's. you sneak a hand down to the bulge in his suit, earning a groan.

"one sec, lemme get this off."

peter sets you down on the table and quickly strips off his spider suit. you take your own clothes off and toss them aside, left only in your bra and panties. peter comes to stand between your legs. he slips your panties to the side, middle finger collecting your wetness as he kisses you again. his finger slides into you with ease and begins to pump. you moan into the kiss, tugging at his hair.

"already so wet, baby. don't even have to get you warmed up."

peter's finger curls inside you, cockiness evident in his tone and on his features. you tug on some hair at the nape of his neck.

"stop teasing, parker."

"can't take it when the roles are reversed, stark?"

something takes over you in that moment, the same something that's been coursing through your veins all day. you grab both of peter's hands and hold them in place above his head. your grip is tight around his wrists, too tight for him to break free of it. a noise almost like a growl escapes you.

"shut up and fuck me, or i’ll fuck you."

peter meets your wild eyes, his pupils equally as dilated.

"do it."

you promptly pull peter up to the table with you. you push him back so he lies down, pinning his arms down at his sides. his chest rises and falls, breathless.

"woah, what's gotten into you today? not that i’m complaining, but, woah."

"i know, right? i thought you were supposed to have super strength."

peter grabs you by your hips and sits up, seating you in his lap. you wiggle your hips in his grasp, but he digs his fingers into your sides so you can't move. peter's voice drops low.

"what was that?"

you breathe out a low laugh.

"nothing."

you dip your head down to press your forehead to peter's. he smiles, satisfied with your answer. you wrap your hand around his hard cock and stroke him. peter's lips ghost over yours, his breathing heavy.

"wanna feel you, y/n/n."

peter slides his hands up to your waist so you can move again. you smile knowingly. you slip off your panties before you reposition yourself, your legs on either side of him. you line up peter's cock with your entrance.

"wanna feel you too, pete."

you lower yourself down onto peter. you both let out little sighs and moans as he fills you up.

he always feels so good inside you, but this time is even better, even more intense.

you arch your back to find the right angle, shifting backwards a bit. once you're both comfortable, you begin to roll your hips. peter exhales a breath he was holding, lifting his hips up to help you out. your movements are slow, fluid. peter supports you by the small of your back, eyes hooded and lips parted for air.

"fuck, i'm not gonna last long."

"me neither."

he kisses you, softly but with so much passion. you let your eyes flutter closed and kiss back. you place your feet flat on the table for more stability and straighten your back, starting to bounce on his cock.

"y/n..."

peter's voice comes out almost like a whine. you chuckle at that.

"i know."

you grab onto peter's shoulders for more support as you move, up and down, back and forth. peter leaves sloppy kisses along the side of your neck. the once quiet lab is now filled with both of your moans and the sounds of your wetness every time his cock thrusts into you. you're both so close, and you can hardly hold out any longer.

peter grabs your hips to stop your movements. he takes over, thrusting up into you at the same delicious pace, only he's the one in control. you let out a series of short, high pitched moans, head thrown back as peter's cock hits the right spot in you over and over again.

"that's it, y/n/n. sound so pretty, baby."

peter half speaks and half groans. you reply with your own noise of content, squeezing yourself around his cock as you reach your high. peter is close to his.

"god, fuck."

he's panting. his thrusts speed up a bit until his hips stop moving altogether. he pushes deeper into you with one final moan, his cum filling you up, making you feel warm inside. you both recently agreed he could finish in you; it's a new level of intimacy.

"fuck, baby. woah."

you bury your face in peter's neck in response. you try to catch your breath, falling forward into his arms.

"oh my god, pete. that was..."

"yeah."

peter hugs your waist. he slowly pulls out of you, making you wince at the new emptiness.

"sorry."

he peppers tender kisses to the side of your head. you remove your face from his neck.

"it's okay."

you ruffle peter's hair with a tired smile. he kisses your cheek, smiling back. you give him another peck on his lips. you yawn, today's and tonight's activities catching up with you once again.

"aw, you tired?"

"mhm. you must be, too, spidey."

"exhausted. let's get cleaned up, then we'll go to bed?"

"sounds perfect."

peter helps you down from the table. you quickly step into your panties in case any cum leaks out of you. he picks his suit up off the floor.

"okay, that was insanely good. i mean, it always is, but something was different. i wonder what it was."

peter shimmies into his suit so his lower half is covered. you're putting on the rest of your clothes.

"i don't know, i’ve just been super on my shit today. really focused and stuff."

"explains why you were so locked in on your suit."

"that might just be a stark thing. actually, it's a parker thing too."

you poke peter's chest playfully. you collect some of your things from your work area, some miscellaneous supplies sticking to your palms as you do.

"why does this keep happening?"

peter watches curiously as you huff and shake paper clips off your palms.

"funny, that reminds me of when i first got my powers. took me a while to figure out how to control it, being sticky."

"uh huh. did you spill web fluid last time you were down here or something?"

"i don't think so, but it would have dissolved by now if i did. i haven't been in the lab for a couple days."

"oh. maybe it was someone else."

peter quirks a brow.

"i don't see any web fluid over there, y/n/n."

you turn to face peter.

"so why am i sticky?"

between this, your strength, and your heightened senses, peter puts it together. you have powers.

his spider powers.

"that might also be a parker thing. more specifically, a spider-man thing."

"you don't mean... no."

if peter is saying what you think he's saying, that confirms what you had thought earlier.

"uh, yeah."

peter crosses over to you. your eyebrows knit together.

"we must share some dna."

"but how? that wouldn't be possible unless we were, like, related... ew! please don't tell me we're fucking related!"

"baby, baby." peter laughs softly, taking one of your hands in his. "stop freaking out."

"you should be freaking out too! you were just inside me, peter, fucking me raw! you came in me!"

"exactly."

peter's voice is way too calm for your liking.

"exactly? what do you mean 'exactly'?"

"think about it. sperm is made up of dna."

"so what?"

"well, i wasn't born with this dna. it got mutated by the spider bite. so no, we're definitely not related."

you tentatively soften your gaze, allowing peter to lace his fingers through yours.

"since i got my powers from the mutation, i guess you got them too when i started finishing in you."

you gasp, a playful smile pulling at your lips.

"you mean you mutated my dna? you have radioactive cum?"

"something like that. you're not mad?"

you toy with peter's fingers, looping an arm around his neck.

"nah, it's kind of cool now that i know what it is. you're gonna have to teach me how to use the powers, though."

"of course." peter returns your smile. "now that you've got new powers, you gotta rebrand. maybe you could call yourself spider-woman."

"you'd like that, wouldn't you? come up with something more original."

peter's arms wrap around your middle, smile growing into a toothy grin.

"you could also use mrs. parker. it's gonna be your name someday, anyways."

you put your other arm around peter's neck with a laugh.

"mrs. parker, i like that."

(too lazy to use tags lmao)

[ditzydoe444]

okay so it’s not a really good or specific idea or anything buuuuut… could you please please please do soft dom!jason x bunny!reader? i loved your other bunny!reader😔

btw feel free to ignore this if you don’t like it or anything, love ya🫶🏻

MDNI 18+

soft dom! jason x bunny! reader

jason todd smut

you were horny. so fucking horny. but you never initiated sex, ever. so all you could do was lay in bed with a pout until jason got home, and would hopefully catch the hint. jason had been working in the garage for hours during the past week, where you were left alone in the house with only your fingers shoved up your tight cunt, pretending it was jason’s. after moving in you threw out all of your sex toys, not because jason was against it, but because they came nowhere close to the pleasure jason would give you.

but you didn’t think about how short your fingers were, how they barely gave you anything, god you never regathered throwing out the toys more than now. whilst jason was at work you were sprawled out on the bed, your tiny fingers pumping in and out of cunt. the whines and moans that left your mouth were pathetic, to say the least, god you couldn’t even give yourself an orgasm. hence why you started to dry hump his pillow. there was something about smelling his musky scent that turned you on. the pillow did more than your fingers, you came hard.

the pink floral pillowcases that you insisted on getting was now stained and damp with your slick. the sight made you embarrassed. you were literally a bunny in heat. jason would never make fun of you for it, he would never do that. but there was something so embarrassing and tainting about seeing your cum on his pillow. immediately, with flush cheeks you threw the pillowcase away, putting on a fresh one.

your legs were still slightly sore from riding his pillow, and your post orgasm glow was visible, your cheeks with a small flush of pink, hair sticking to your forehead and your eyes teary from how badly you missed him. so when you heard the front door open, a sign that jason had returned your stomach dropped. you jumped back into bed pretending you were relaxing as usual, though when he walked in the bedroom he could sense something was off.

“hey bun,” he cooed softly sitting by the edge of the bed where you were. you smiled shyly, the nickname that would usually make you blush reminded you of how you were humping his pillow, like a literal bunny. “how are you feelin’?” he smiled, tracing the soft contours of your cheeks.

god you prayed that he didn’t see the flush of your skin, jason knew what you looked like when you came, and that was enough to make you panic. “j-just a little tired,” you smiled. that wasn’t exactly a lie. you were always slumped after an orgasm.

“what’s wrong bun? you are heating up,” he frowned as he placed his large hand on your forehead. you shook your head, slightly panicking. “n-nothing, the summer air is just making me a little hot.” though jason was smart enough to see through your lies. his large hands grabbed you by the waist, and easily placed you down on his lap, where you were straddling him.

“tell me the truth. you know i don’t judge,” he said softly, his hands rubbing small soft circles against your soft thighs. you couldn’t tell him the truth, it was embarrassing, what would he even think of you? you shook your head, “really, i’m fine jay.”

a small frown appeared on his face. “don’t lie.” gently, he bounced you ever so slightly, a way to get you out of your shell. “come on bun, tell me what’s in that pretty little mind of yours.” deep down he wouldn’t judge, but there was always the inkling of doubt that ran in your head.

“i just missed you, that’s all,” you mumbled shyly, snuggling deeper into his broad chest. he let out a low chuckle, “i missed you too bun.” gently he tried to push your face away from his chest, him wanting to see your face. “but something tells me, it was more than that,” he nudged softly. “let me see that pretty little face of yours, and look me in the eyes and tell me what’s wrong.”

he gently brushed the hair that was stuck to your forehead away, “you got this glow on your face bun, the kind of glow you only get when you come.” of course he caught on, he was the one responsible for giving you leg shaking orgasms. “i just really missed you,” you mumbled softly, refusing to look him at him in the eyes. “i missed your touch, i missed everything.”

he nods, his gaze never leaving yours, it was full of understanding and softness. “so you touched yourself?” he gently asked. you nodded, your hands clutching onto his shirt tightly. he let out a small chuckle, holding your fists in his hands, “want me to help with that?”

**

jason was always soft and gentle with you in bed, treating you like a princess, prioritising your pleasure first. “how are you feelin’ bun?” he mumbled softly, his lips gently nibbling your earlobe. he has you pinned down in a mating press, his large muscular frame on top of yours. you were in no place to talk, the pleasure was too much and your mind was going blank. the most you could do was a small pathetic nod.

“such a pretty little thing, you are doing so well.” jason gently kissed the tears that were on your cheeks, you always struggled to take him fully due to his size, hence why he would always give you small kisses and whisper words of encouragement. “taking me so well,” he groaned as your cunt gripped onto his cock.

“think you can handle it if i go a little harder?” he gently kissed your forehead. he knew your answer, and you knew it too. he was always so reassuring and gentle you would do whatever he asked. you nodded, “yeah jay,” you whined.

slowly he increased his pace, despite how deep he was going in you, his soft words of encouragement never stopped. “doin’ so well for me,” he grunted. “makin’ all those pretty sounds just for me.” he was balls deep inside you, your cunt was making the most lewd noises. “such a pretty little bun, all for me.” he praised softly.

you clung onto his neck, holding him tightly like he was going to disappear. “next time, if you need me just tell me ok? no need to hump the pillow.” you nodded, your grip tightening. jason saw how well you took him in, his cock disappearing between your swollen folds. “atta girl,” he groaned, kissing your neck.

“so pretty for me,” he mumbled leaving hot kisses on your neck. “j-jay, ‘m close,” you whined. gently, he squeezed your lower stomach, gently caressing just where he was buried in. “you can do it, i’ve got you.” he groaned at how tightly you were squeezing him. “come bun, just let it go.”

the moment he pressed on your lower stomach, you came. your moans echoing through the room. “there we go, that wasn’t so hard was it?” he grinned, kissing your forehead. you gave him a small smile, completely exhausted though you knew that you only received your first orgasm of the night, there was plenty more to give. “god, you’re so pretty so nicely fucked out for me, i have to give you some more.”

[shycloudkitty]

Just one more minute...

Summary: Your husband has to leave for yet another mission but he's not quite ready to let you go yet… So he just savors…each… moment… 

Pairing: Death Island! Leon × Fem reader

Tags: a bit angsty but lots of comfort, Leon sleeping peacefully for once in his life, fluff, established relationship. Just overall a short comfy read <3

WC: 1.3K

Small droplets of rain splatter on the windows of your bedroom. The soft sound created a soothing lullaby for the ears for those who were sleeping to it. The cloudy weather and the chill air contributed in making it the most serene environment while you stay snuggled up peacefully in your husband's arms with a warm blanket over you. 

His arms stayed around your waist holding you gently in a warm embrace, face nuzzling your hair, gentle breathing warming your neck. This was always his favorite position to fall asleep to. Your smell, your soft touch, your weight beneath him, telling him that you were really here… You were real. 

Your arms were wrapped around his bare torso and face buried in his chest. Feeling his body warmth seep into your skin. Limbs trained to take life, now just protecting you from the chill air and comforting you in your sleep. 

It was such a simple moment, just a couple sleeping and relaxing in each other's comfort. But at the same time it was so rare between you two. Just having these simple moments with him felt like a blessing. It was heaven.

And why wasn't it normal for both of you? Right. He had a job of saving the world, do or die, special agent... You get the idea. Except his job wasn't exactly a James Bond one. That only happened in movies. No, this was more grim than what they show in the movies. But what can you do when these are the cards life dealt you with? 

But he always felt inspired by you, how you handled every situation thrown at you with grace. Obviously, he wasn't a fool, he could see it was tough but still tried your best. Even in this relationship, you handle everything with so much love and care…he never had someone who sticked with him more than a few months let alone actually get married to. 

He didn’t hold anything against his exes, like his life was basically swamped with work so he understood why they left. What was actually confusing? You staying in his life, despite everything. You stayed even when he missed some of the important moments of your life. Sadly, that was the reality of his job. You win some, you lose some.

He was obviously happy that you stayed with him despite everything but he never quite understood why? He couldn't help but ask you this question. He remembers seeing your cheeks get red, avoiding his gaze and softly saying ‘I love you’. He also recalls saying ‘thank you’ in response because of how flustered he got from the confession. 

That memory always makes him facepalm himself.

After the day of your confession it was like his world flipped. And even though he didn't understand it fully at the time he wanted to do everything in his power to keep you in his life, even if it meant catering to your every whim. He listened to everything you said, trying to remember the best he could. 

He actually has a secret folder on his phone containing everything about your likes and dislikes just in case he needs a refresher. 

He didn’t even realize when it happened but he fell in love with you and wanted to keep you in his life forever. Thankfully, you felt the same way when he got down on one knee and asked if you wanted to marry him. He almost lost the ring with how nervous he was, fidgeting with the ring box in his pocket every 5 minutes.

It's been a few years since he tied down the knot with you and it was the best decision of his life. Sure, being married presents its own set of problems, sometimes things get rocky between you two, but there was nothing you both couldn't solve. Sometimes the problems needed talking, other times he could tell without you saying a word. But each time he makes it known that he loves you. Always. 

The soft rain slowly stirs Leon awake, he glances at his surroundings and then looks down at your sleeping face with his bleary eyes. He yawns and rubs his eyes, the digital clock on his nightstand read 6:30am. 

It was still half an hour early before he had to go to work today for some missing person assignment Hunnigan gave out. He didn’t wanna go but apparently it was top priority and needs his immediate attention. He told you about it last night, you weren't exactly happy since it was last minute but at this point you had grown used to it.

He tilts his head and looks at your serene face, caressing your cheek and sighing. His lips press a soft kiss on your forehead and gently threads his fingers through your hair. His voice comes as a soft whisper. “I don't wanna go either… you know that, right?” You probably knew how he felt about going too. You could read him like a book at this point. 

His eyes flit through your soft features, taking note of your breathing, slow and deep, fully relaxed. He smiles to himself and whispers in the same soft voice. “God, you’re so beautiful. You always are.” he lovingly brushes some hair out of your face. “I'm really lucky I get to see you like this, feels like I'm in heaven even if I probably won't ever go there. You do so much for us, I wish I could just stop this moment for us and never let go.”

He sighs softly and slowly pulls you closer to the warmth of his chest, trying not to jostle you too much. He closes his eyes briefly, focusing on your warmth. And starts mumbling to himself. “Honestly, if I was a poet I would have written dozens of poems about you. They probably would have been corny but you would have liked it.”

He gently starts brushing your hair again and continues. “But since I'm not… I don't have enough words to fully express how much you mean to me. The fact that we’re still together, makes me the luckiest fool ever lived. My heart hurts sometimes because of how happy I get cause of you.”

He sighs and mumbles. “I'm not normal…never have been. But with you…I feel that I finally became the man that I was supposed to be. And that I finally have a place called home."

He scoffs to himself, shaking his head. He didn't know what had possessed to become so sentimental this early. “I'm really cheesy aren't I?”

He felt soft teardrops on his chest where your face was resting. You had woken up from his rambling. 

His heart clenches from realization. He gulps, feeling the sudden lump rise up in his throat. He hugs you tighter and rubs your bare back. “I will come back, I promise.” Softly pressing a kiss on your shoulder. 

He glances at the time again. It was nearly 6:55am. He had to start getting ready for work. 

He slowly tilts your face, wiping away the tears from your shining eyes. His expression softens, cupping your face in his hands and softly kisses you. He feels you kiss him back, your grip on his arm tight. 

After a few moments you both slowly pull back from the kiss, eyes closed, foreheads resting against one another, soft breathing filling the quiet room. He softly mumbles. “I have to get ready now sweetheart.”

He feels you shake your head in response. Your soft voice fills the room. “No…wait for few more minutes. Just stay.”

He gulps and nods. He wasn't strong enough to deny that request. He pulls you close, covering both of you in the blanket. “Of course, darling.” And press soft kisses on your shoulder. 

Enjoying these quiet moments of solace with you. Even if he couldn't make this moment last forever, he knew he would come back to relish it again... 

Usually I wouldn't say this but I would very much appreciate it if you left comments, obviously if you want to. It helps me improve and encourages me to write more. 😊❤

-Bella

[insidekatmind]

We Need to Talk~ Trent Alexander Arnold

Wearning: +18,smut, I was inspired by a story I read that I don't remember.

You had practiced this moment in your head a hundred times. Every step of the conversation was carefully planned. You knew exactly what points to hit to make it clear to Trent that you weren’t happy, that things needed to change. But as you stood in the doorway, watching him casually sip water at the kitchen counter, all your rehearsed words crumbled.

He noticed you right away, his brown eyes locking on yours, a small smile tugging at his lips. That damn smile—confident, knowing, and infuriatingly irresistible.

“Hey, baby.” His voice was low and smooth, like velvet. He tilted his head slightly, a strand of dark hair falling across his forehead. ���Rough day?”

You swallowed hard, already feeling your resolve slipping. Stick to the plan. Don’t get distracted.

“I think…” you began, your voice shaky. Trent raised an eyebrow, waiting. His gaze was so intense it felt like he could see right through you.

“I think we could use a break,” you finally managed to spit out, your words hanging heavy in the air.

For a moment, he just stared at you, like he was processing what you said. Then he took another sip of water, the glass clinking softly as he set it down.

“A break, huh?” he repeated, as if tasting the words. He licked his lips, smirking. “What for, baby?”

His voice was so calm, so unaffected. It irritated you. Did he not understand how serious this was? Or did he just not care?

“For us,” you said, trying to sound confident, though your voice wavered. “We’re not… working.”

Trent stepped away from the counter, taking slow, deliberate steps toward you. His movements were lazy, casual, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. The closer he got, the more your heart pounded.

“Not working?” he echoed, stopping just a few inches away. “That’s funny. Because we seemed to be working just fine last night.”

You blushed at the memory. Last night had been intense, passionate, like always. But that was the problem. All you ever did was fight and fuck. The highs were too high, and the lows were exhausting.

“Trent, I’m serious,” you whispered, but your voice betrayed your weakness. He noticed.

He leaned in, his hands bracing on either side of you, trapping you against the counter. His scent—musky with a hint of his cologne—made your knees weak.

“You think?” he murmured, his lips dangerously close to yours. “You think we need a break?”

Your breathing was uneven now, your mind foggy. You could barely think straight with him so close. His eyes flicked down to your lips, and you knew he was doing it on purpose. He loved making you squirm.

“I…” You tried to remember what you were going to say, but his presence was overwhelming. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension between you two crackling like electricity.

“You don’t want a break,” he said softly. “You just want me to beg.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine. He was always so damn confident, so sure of himself. And the worst part? He was right. A part of you wanted him to fight for you, to prove that he cared.

“Maybe I do,” you shot back, trying to regain control. “Maybe I want to see if you care enough to fight for us.”

Trent chuckled, a low, throaty sound that made your core tighten. His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering.

“Baby, you know I care,” he murmured. “But you and I both know what we’re best at.”

His lips ghosted over yours, barely touching, teasing. You knew you should push him away, demand a real conversation. But instead, your body leaned into him, craving his touch.

“Trent…” you whispered, your voice pleading. You hated how weak you sounded.

“Shh,” he whispered back, his hand sliding down to your waist, pulling you closer. “Let me remind you.”

His lips finally captured yours, and you melted into him. The kiss was slow at first, teasing, but quickly deepened. His hands roamed your body, gripping your hips, pressing you against the counter. Every rational thought vanished as his mouth claimed yours.

When he pulled back, you were breathless, your heart racing.

“See?” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. “We work, baby. We always have.”

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “Trent, we can’t keep doing this. We need more than… this.”

He sighed, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “I know.” His voice was softer now, more vulnerable. “But you have to admit, we’re damn good at this.”

You looked into his eyes, searching for something—anything—that would make this easier. But all you saw was Trent, the man you couldn’t quit.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “We are.”

And as he kissed you again, you knew the conversation wasn’t over. But for now, you let yourself get lost in him, one more time.

And here you are, fucking on your living room couch

"Always so good at riding my cock, yes babygirl?" Trent teases you as you moan and ride him harder.

He chuckled as you moved your hips, the friction causing you to clench around him. He held himself together, his own pride and ego always getting the best out of him. Trent was never the type to stay quiet either. He was always in charge. But right now he let you do whatever you wanted. Let you ride him like a horse he knew you were desperate enough to do. His hands grabbed your hips, making you move back and forth with his eyes boring into your soul.

“You’re such a greedy girl. You couldn’t just walk away, could you?”.

You whimper and shake your head as you ride him with more passion. You felt so full.

He lifted you up, throwing your body off him to make you sit back down on the couch. Trent was on you immediately, towering your body and caging you in his muscular arms. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above you, leaning down to capture your pouty lips in a bruising kiss. His body was pressed against yours, making you feel his heartbeat against your chest. And he felt yours too.he started to thrust his hips even harder fucking you

"tell me babygirl do you want to leave me again?" he asks and increases his thrusts and you scream scratching his back.

He chuckled watching you struggle, eyes on his and lips parted open, moans leaving your mouth way too quickly. Trent smirked knowing he was doing a good job at making you feel good. He could go like this all night, but he wanted to hear you beg. He loved when you didn’t hold anything

"I asked you a question babygirl" Trent whispers to you

“No…”

You mumbled under your breath, looking away from his intense glare that had you feeling the heat all over your body. You knew Trent wasn’t getting the answer he wanted. But you were stubborn and wanted him to work for it. He smiled, knowing that you were trying to play a game with him. He knew you too well. He leaned in until his face almost touched your ear, his breath tickling your skin.

“No? Hmm. Should I stop then?”

"nono trent no, keep going" you started to get agitated holding him to you with your legs. Your pussy has tightened his cock more and he moaned.

His mind was always blown by how eager you were. You hated being teased and yet here you were, asking and begging him to touch you. It was cute seeing your face turn serious from being pleasured to mad when he wasn’t giving you what you wanted. Trent knew he was testing your patience right now and the way your eyes spoke loudly was making him almost lose it.

“But what’s the magic word, babygirl?”

You whimpered looking at him. "Please."

Trent watched your face in fascination as tears slipped out from your eyes. You looked so beautiful, but he knew how to put it all on hold until you were a mumbling mess under him. He wasn’t mad, he never would be. He knew you needed each other, no matter how much you tried to convince the both of you otherwise. He knew that he couldn’t imagine anyone else in your place. You were going to be the death of him like that, trying to push him away when he wasn’t gonna let you.

He wiped the tears off your hot, burning skin with his fingers. Trent always hated seeing you cry. It was like he was hurting too by watching you like that. He loved you despite all the arguing and fighting. And he had a feeling you felt the same way.

“Shhh, shh. Doll, I got you. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

He mumbled while looking into your eyes. Trent leaned down, capturing your lips back into a passionate kiss, his hands gently caressing the skin of your arms. “Please, trust me,”

Those words sent chills down your spine like they always do. Trent never needed to say it twice for you to know that you could trust him, but he always mumbled it just to remind you that he knew. He pulled back looking into your eyes as close as possible. He had a way of looking at you sometimes.

“Can you do something for me?” and you whispered a little yes.

He smiled at you instantly answering without any hesitation. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you would give in to him. But Trent was too happy with the outcome.

“Lean back,” he whispered against your ear, “against the couch.”

Trent had something in his mind, something he wanted you to see. He had an idea, and for that he needed you to be in a different position. He watched you shifting position, sitting back and resting against the pillows. You looked at him, wondering what he was going to do. Trent’s big frame was still in front of you, caging you.

He was sitting on his knees, hovering over you. His eyes travelled down slowly, taking in your skin and curves. Trent’s hands started to trace over your naked form, his palm was soft and gentle, slowly moving down your body.

“You are perfect,” he mumbled under his breath, eyes still on you. “So perfect, darling.”

Your heart fluttered at his words.

Trent continued, his touch barely there but not faint enough to make you feel cold. He was tracing every single part of your frame like it was going to be the last time he saw you. His brain was going crazy, trying to remember every single thing about you forever. He was always so gentle with you, like you could break under his palms at any minute.

But even when he was like that, Trent always managed to be in charge. He always had to make sure you knew who was the one in control here. To remind you who you belonged to. Even when his body was pressed against yours but he was barely touching you, he was still the one making you feel like he wanted you to in that moment.

His hand gently grabbed your chin, making you look up into his deep brown eyes that could always tell what was on his mind. “Do you know how good you make me feel?” he muttered lowly, as the words hung in the air.

You moan hearing his words "Trent please" “Please, what, doll?” he asked with a smirk, “Tell me what you want, use your words.”

"please trent i need to come" you whine .

He chuckles as he looks at you. He wasn’t going to give in. Trent wanted to make you suffer and you knew that. But he also knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself for much longer either.*

“Not just yet… you’re gonna have to wait a little longer.”

Trent leaned down, his lips attaching on your skin. He left a path of kisses down the side of your neck, his teeth nibbling at your sensitive spot. He knew exactly how much it would drive you crazy, and that was his intention.

you moan and grind on his cock trying to get him to move again .Hearing you whine was his favourite sound ever. But Trent was still being stubborn and wasn’t ready to give you what you wanted. He was teasing his own patience right now and he knew he was going to give in soon.

“Tch, impatient much?” He whispered against your neck.

you whine and rub yourself harder "trent please i need it"

Trent groaned against your skin, his own body begging him to do what you said. But Trent was always too proud to give in so quickly. He liked you when you were begging. And it seemed like you were going to have to try harder to get what you wanted

“You sound so needy, doll… so desperate for me, hm?”

You moan "please daddy I need it I'm begging you" .That did the trick. Hearing you saying those three magic words was always his weak spot, he felt like he was losing control over himself. He growled and moved suddenly, caging you completely underneath him.

“Say that again.” He demanded, his eyes dark and burning into yours.

He was breathing heavily, his hands touching your curves. Trent wanted you so badly right now, but he was forcing himself to wait a bit more. He couldn’t deny the fact that watching you writhing underneath him was making him insane.

"please daddy" you groan

That was the last straw. Trent didn’t want to wait any longer, your request in the form of a word you could feel from how he was looking at you made him completely lose it. He let go of his control and gave in to his desires.

Trent roughly pinned your arms above your head, taking them in one of his big hands and leaving almost no room to move for you. He leaned down and captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth like he was trying to devour you. He was needy and eager. He moved his hips closer to yours, the tip of his length teasing your folds while he inside your pussy. You moaned feeling him fucking you in an animalistic way and you moaned loudly.

"love, I'm coming" you moan. He pulled back from the kiss, his eyes locking onto yours. He could feel you tightening around him as you were getting close. There was no turning back now, Trent looked completely obsessed and addicted to the beautiful sounds coming out of your mouth.

“I know, doll. Go on, I’ve still got you… Come for me,” he whispered with a smile on his lips

you moan and climax. You had squeezed his cock so hard that he came too.

You both were panting now, taking in everything that just happened. He smiled, watching you breathing heavily while he tried to steady his own.

“You’re too damn perfect.” He mumbled, burying his head into your neck. Trent was completely spent and satisfied, but he hadn’t forgotten you were mad at him. “You know that I can’t let you go now, right?”

Trent leaned up again to look into your eyes, not breaking the eye contact for a second. Trent’s gaze was intense as always. “Not now, not anytime. You’re mine, always been mine, baby. There’s no way I’m going to let you pull that break bullshit again.” he added in a voice that almost sounded as a warning.

He continued, this time a bit softer as he spoke. “I’m not gonna let you go… not when we know how good we can be together.”

He moved to lay beside you instead, still not taking his eyes off of you. Trent’s face was expressionless, his eyes revealing just a bit of the thoughts running through his head.

You nod "we must try to be less superficial"

He couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from turning up into a small smirk. Trent knew he could come off as superficial, and he knew you would call him out on that.

“You know how much I like when you call me out, doll… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He chuckled, wrapping an arm over your naked waist and pulling you close against him. You smile and huge him

He smiled back as he wrapped his arms around you, enjoying the skin to skin contact. Trent always loved holding you close like that, it made him feel like he could finally relax in your presence.

“Mhm, doll… I guess you’re forgiven for what you did today.” he mumbled against your hair, still keeping you close.

you giggle and kiss his forehead .He closed his eyes, the feeling of your sweet kiss bringing a sense of comfort, like there was nothing else in the world except for you two. There was a small silence and Trent broke it after a little while.

“Doll, can I ask you something?” he asks softly looking at you

"Yes baby" you whispered softly

He kept his arms around you, still not letting go. His voice was gentle but serious at the same time when he asked the question.

“You know that we’re going to have to talk this through, right? All the stuff that happened… all the fights, all the times we both got jealous. I…”

Trent paused and looked down at you, “I wanna do better. I don’t want us to be like this anymore. How would you feel about that?”

you smile sweetly and caress his back "i would like trent"

Trent felt a soft smile appearing on his lips as you spoke. Trent was happy to know you wanted the same thing. He knew it wasn’t going to be an overnight fix, but he was willing to work on it with you if that meant you’d be happier.

“You know how stubborn we both can get, doll. We’re gonna have to work on that too, right?” he asked with a chuckle.

You laugh "we can do it". Trent smiled at your optimism and positive attitude. Trent knew that having you on his side would make everything ten times easier. He couldn’t deny that he already felt better, like a knot in his stomach was slowly untangling thanks to your reassuring words.

“Yeah, we can do it. It’s not gonna be easy, but it’ll be worth it if I get to call you mine,” he muttered, burying his head in your hair.

You smile sweetly and kiss him in text. you loved being and you always prefer to go back to trent and fix things.

[moody-alcoholic]

On a Wing and a Prayer

Part 11 - Epilogue

CW: nightmares.

AN: I have had so much fun writing this. It was such a breath of fresh air to take a break from my main series and write a quick 'mini fic'. I have other ideas for more 'mini fic's' in the future. For now I thought I should wrap this up. Thank you for everyone who liked commented and shared this around, even for people who just read it and enjoyed it, thank you so much and I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it.

Previous parts - masterlist

As soon as Simon is discharged you all fly back to the UK.

You end up at the house with Simon on bed rest. Not that he listens, he’s worse than Johnny was. You stay in the house with them, sleeping in the bed with Simon so you can help him when he needs to pee in the middle of the night. 

John has been busy cleaning up the mess from the base as well as making sure Simon doesn’t get discharged. Him and Kyle usually spend their days out at a base somewhere leaving you Johnny and Simon at the house. You don’t mind, you’ll spend as much time as you can with them. 

Johnny cooks and cleans, Simon jokes he’s turning into a housewife. When you offer to help none of them will have it, doting on you almost as much as Simon. 

“You don’t have to feel guilty. I can do things for myself.” You remind them. 

“Don’t even think about it. What did you want? A sandwich?” Johnny asks and sticks his head out from round the kitchen. 

“Cheese and pickle.” You smile. Simon’s hands grip your waist pulling you back up against him.

“And a packet of quavers.” He whispers in your ear.

“And a packet of quavers.” You call. You lay back against him and he kisses your head. 

“You’re one tough cookie, you know that.” He says after a few minutes of silence. You turn to look up at him, frowning. 

“What Graves put you through. What I-” He chokes on the words. You break away from his embrace. 

“Stop. We don’t have to talk about this.” You say bringing your hand up to stroke his cheek. You sigh watching his eyes drop. 

“Simon.” You stop, you're not sure what you want to say. You pick up one of his hands. “It’s okay, I spent months in therapy, It’s part of the job. You were just doing your job.” 

He hangs his head and sighs. “It’s not fair, we shoulda waited, you deserve better.” You lean over and kiss him. Deep pressing your tongue in his mouth, you wrap one of your hands round the back of his neck. You pull away from the kiss put keep your forehead on his. 

“You don’t get to feel guilty Simon Riley. I forgive you. I love you.” You sit back on your knees looking at him, squeezing his hand, you smile. 

“I love you too.” He says. You rub his cheek again then turn to lay back in his arms. As soon as his arm has come round your chest, he plants a kiss on your head and Johnny comes in with a plate of food. Simon leans over picking up the packet of quavers. 

“Nothing else till later you’ll spoil yer tea, John’s bringing fish n' chips.” Johnny says walking out the room. You smile and reach over for your plate.

…

You must have fallen asleep in Simon’s arms because the slamming of the front door jumps you out of what was starting to feel like an overly realistic dream. The smell of fish and chip fat fills your nose as John and Kyle walk into the living room. 

“Have you two been sat their all day?” Kyle asks, kicking his shoes off. 

“Mother won’t let us leave.” You say, your voice grumbles with sleep. Simon starts to sit up and you do the same yawning and stretching your arms and legs. John has gone out into the kitchen while Kyle opens the bags of food on the coffee table. 

“Got cod, chips, peas and scraps. What do you want?” Kyle asks, John comes back with plates. Kyle serves Simon as John comes over to kiss the top of your head. You look up at him smiling.

“Busy day?” You ask as he strokes your chin with his thumb. 

“Always busy when we’re around.” John says going over to the other sofa. As Kyle piles a plate high with chips and fish for him, then passes it to him with a fork. 

“Heard back from the medical board yet?” Johnny asks as he comes into the room with a bottle of pop and glasses. 

“As a matter of fact-” John starts as he rests the plate on his lap reaching over to his bag next to the sofa. He rummages through muttering to himself until he pulls out a piece of paper. He hands it out to Simon. “Expect to see you back for duty in a month, Lieutenant.” John smiles. Johnny’s giddy snatching the paper out John's hand and reading it like he almost doesn’t believe it. 

“Fuck you got a whole 2 months off. I only got a month.” He says reaching over to hand it to Simon. “I even had one of those lung things.” He says, shaking his head, clicking his fingers at you. 

“A lung resection.” You say leaning over Simon's shoulder to look at the letter. 

“Took half me bloody lung out! I’ll never smoke again.” He says sitting down on the sofa next to John. You look at Kyle chuckling and scooting back on the floor to sit between John's legs. 

“You don’t smoke Johnny.” You say looking back over at him. John is fishing through his bag for something else. He reaches out to you. It’s folded up in an envelope. 

“Transfer papers. For you to sign. That is if you really do want to come back.” There’s silence in the room, the only noise coming from the low volume of the TV, everyone is looking at you as you reach out to take the papers. You smile nodding then sit back on the sofa opening them up. 

You hear Johnny and Kyle start up a conversation as you read over the standard legal jargon of the contract. You do want to join 141 again, you just hope nothing has changed.

…

You dream a lot about your torture, thats normal thats to be expected. When it’s a good day it’s Graves and his faceless shadows. When it’s a bad day its John and Simon, Simon never has his mask on unlike your actual torture. 

He didn’t do it, Ghost did. That's what you tell yourself when you wake in a pool of sweat panting, feeling like someone is sitting on your chest. Your legs and arms tingle. 

Yesterday was a good day, but you dreamt it was John. You look over in the bed trying to slow your breathing. Simon’s back is turned to you, you can hear him snoring softly. You turn over in bed sitting up. Your transfer papers sit on your bedside table, illuminated by the crack in the curtains. 

You get up and sneak out the room trying to be as quiet as you can so you don’t wake Simon. You step over the hall to John’s room. When you push the door open you see him and Kyle lying in bed. Suddenly you want to go back, leave them be. 

You can’t, you want to be with them. You slowly crawl on the bottom of the bed, Kyle has his back pressed up against John, as soon as he feels you start to wiggle between him he snaps awake. 

“Hey love, you okay?” Kyle asks making room so you can crawl in. 

“Yeah.” You whisper shuffling under the sheets. John turns around in the bed his arm coming over you to reach Kyle. A second later he seems to notice you in the bed, his hand comes up to brush your face.

“Something wrong, you’ve been crying love?” He says his voice deep from sleep. You didn’t even realise that. 

“I just missed you,” You say, turning to face him. His thumb brushes your cheeks, your eyes have adjusted to the light and you can see his eyes shining in the dark. 

“We’re all here.” Kyle says shifting up behind you pulling your shoulder slightly so you lay against him. You smile. 

“I know, I know you are.” You say, closing your eyes. Kyle kisses the top of your head and John moves closer to you pulling the duvet up to your neck. He kisses you, a soft peck on your lips, you feel the tickle of his beard. His arm rests on your waist, rubbing your side as he breaks away from the kiss. 

You close your eyes letting them hold you in their arms, the sound of their breathing lulls you back to sleep. 

…

You’re up early the next morning slipping out the bed before anyone else is up. You’re sat at the kitchen island with a cup of tea in your hands when John makes his way over to the coffee machine. 

“Mornin’” he says, turning it on. 

“You going to the base today?” You ask taking a sip as he takes a mug down from the cupboard.

“Yeah, still got a bunch of intel to go through on the Makarov leads.” he says, turning to look at you while the coffee machine warms up. You slide the envelope over to him. 

“Think I can help?” You ask, smiling. He comes round to you, throwing his arms around you before you have a chance to stop him. He buries his nose into your neck and you hug him back. 

“You know for a second I was worried you changed your mind.” He breaks from the hug cupping your cheeks. 

“I love you.” You say. He kisses you.

“I love you too.” You smile the biggest smile at him as you hear the coffee machine beep.  

“Mornin’ lass sleep well?” Johnny asks, his hand landing on your back. John gets up going back to the coffee machine. 

“Yeah. I did.” You smile going to take another sip of your tea. 

You sleep well that night too, squished between Johnny and Simon. There are no more bad day or good day dreams. Nightmares come sometimes but it’s always Graves and his faceless shadows, and when you do wake in a panic someone is always there. John or Simon, Kyle or Johnny. They’re always by your side.  

You stick by their side too, besides someone has to pull the bullets out of them.

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[pan-kojiwa]

𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠?

𝐑𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 -> 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐑𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝, 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲. 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡.

CW: Sfw. (A little bit of tension)

WC: 2k

Waffle’s Note: Rin is aged up here, even this it’s not mentioned. It’s my first time ever writing for Rin so he might be a little ooc. A bit of self insert. Also you have a pet owl? Kinda proofread. (I literally had to stop cuz I kept changing/adding things)

You sigh, lost in your thoughts.

You and Itoshi Rin have been acquaintance for two years now. Yes acquaintances. It’s ridiculous right? You’ve been trying to convince him ever since but he just ignore you every time.

You two are friends— if not even best friends because clearly, if it wasn’t the case, how could he explain why ‘acquaintance’ are constantly glued together like you two? How could he explain how well you two know each others so well, to the point where he could see when you were faking a good mood? And come on now— what sensible person would crash at their acquaintance’s apartment out of the blue just to see their pet owl? 

Still, no matter what proof you could possible give him, he simply refused to acknowledge the truth. Yep. Even after two years of friendship—or should you say “acquaintanceship”, you still are a lukewarm nuisance.

Actually, he said pest at first… But you like to think of it as an auditory hallucination on your part. You know— for the sake of your ego.

To be fair, you do annoy him on a daily basis anyway, so you kinda see where he’s coming from. But whatever, he likes to yap about how much you annoy him but never takes action. That man loves your company.

You giggle, your eyes drifting to the ceiling, while your fingers idly tap one of your thigh. Lazily slumped on the couch you sink even deeper into it, your head resting against the armrest as you yawn. Yep, you’re bored.

Last week you needed cleaning supplies for your apartment. So you decided to go to the mall. But you don’t have a car. And you hate the lack of space and the pace of public transportation. So you asked you so generous and awesome friend that happens to have a car to drive you there. But of course he said no. You weren’t surprised though. That’s why you innocently mentioned needing to buy bedding and food for Hoo’ster your pet owl. And of course, as soon as you mentioned your pet, he changed his mind— begrudgingly but you didn’t care about that! 

Terrible mistake. Like people say karma’s a bitch, because you got yourself a ticket to a Friday movie night. Again. ‘Yaaay…’ You keep forgetting about the local video store on the way to mall, that for some reason, always have a display of their most recent arrival of horror movies. Seriously, how it’s only the horror section that gets displayed??

Oh, of course Rin immediately went to buy a copy. 

‘We’re watching in next Friday. You better show up.’ He said. You facepalmed.

A movement to your right jolted you out of your thoughts, making you turn your head. Rin, sitting beside you slightly shifted in his seat, slowly leaning forward. Eyes a little bit widened and the tip of his tongue sticking out. His head is even moving along with the scenes shown on the TV screen. 

You blink. ‘Wow…’ you were definitely used to this sight by now— yet you still look at him with the same fascination you’ve had over the year, dripping in your eyes.

The first time Rin invited you to watch a movie with him, you were ecstatic— well at least until you realised it was a horror movie. But anyway, at first you thought that he was finally warming up to you! You thought that you could ask him a bit more about himself and his hobbies! That you two could chat while watching the movie, even! Oh boy, how wrong were you. It’s also when.. you discover this— quirk, of his? You remember being a bit weirded out back then. You even tried to punch him. You know… to bring him back to reality.

Yet now…

Now, seeing him so fully immersed in the movie this way is… quite endearing.

“ - Rin?” You called out to him.

He doesn’t answer. 

… And that’s all you’ve been waiting for. The game begins.

In this game, you just need to shift Rin’s attention on you. Even if it’s for one second. The moment his eyes leave the screen, you win.

A cunning smile creeps up your face as you gently bite your index finger while trying to contain your excitement. When Rin is in this state, you can do pretty much anything you want to him and he won’t mind. Well not that he won’t mind— he’s just so focused on the movie that he’d basically ignore or let most of your shenanigans slide. 

It’s only fair anyway. Since Rin seems to have a passion in forcing you to watch movies that bore you to death, you’ll certainly enjoy your new passion: annoying the hell out of him when he’s hyper focused.

Of course at times it was pretty challenging, because the movies he chooses are generally pretty good, so nothing you did could really break his focus. But right now you’re confident. A gut feeling tells you that you can do it. 

You shifted on the couch straitening up yourself back into a sitting position. Your lips pressed together in a suppressed smile while your right hand discreetly makes its way to Rin's head, poking it.

“- Rinrin?” 

Of course he shows no reaction. You knew he wouldn’t. It takes more than that.

“- Rinrin~ I’m bored…” You say poking at his left cheek again and again.

“- Rin?” Poke. “- Riiin!” Poke. “- Rinrin.” Poke, poke.

Nothing.

Rin’s eyes are still glued to the screen. It’s as if nothing happened, like you’re not even here. Normally he’d have already smacked your hand away, scowling at you to stop that. But you refuse to let his lack of reaction stop you.

You raise your hand again, about to poke at his side, but he stops you before you can do it, simply grabbing your hand before placing it back on your lap.

‘Hehehe… it’s working’

You start to poke his side again, changing location often to avoid hurting him. And you even shamelessly move closer to him, little by little as you poke him. Until there’s no space left between you two. Then, you place your right hand on the back of his neck.

His head twitches slightly at the touch of your cold hand.

Now, now you just got a big reaction. A sly smile tugged at your lips.

Okay. So now you have to be careful, because breaking someone’s concentration could get them mad somtimes— like really mad. And in Rin’s case, it always result in a fight— not a physical on though. He would just spend days ignoring you, and you didn’t want that.

So to make sure that scenario doesn’t happen, you try to ease him a bit by gently rubbing his back. Your hand slipping further down tracing a line along his spine until you reach the small of his back, making him shiver.

You tilt your head a bit. It’s the first time he’s reacted like this— then again, it’s the first time you touch him like this… ‘Did that tickled?’ you ask yourself. 

Without pulling your hand off his back, you use your left hand to poke his shoulder repeatedly, letting it slide down to poke at his side again.

With a low rumble, Rin slaps your hand away. ‘Oh! There you go!’

You stare at him, trying to meet his eyes, but they’re still glued on the TV. It’s usually at times like this that he gets mad at you and demand you to stop. But right now he just slapped your hand away! You totally have a chance in winning! You almost want to get up and bounce around the room.

When you glance back at him, you immediately notice something. Something important. His tongue. He tucked it back into his mouth! Oh~ You are so winning this little game of yours! And for the first time ever!

Now, you just have to deliver the final strike.

 ‘A kiss on the cheek.’ You thought, internally cheering your victory already. 

You never kissed him on the cheek before— for obvious reasons, it’s Rin duh he won’t let you— so you’re hoping that this bold action would be enough to break the remaining bits of his already thinned concentration. So you went for it, placing just a little peck on his cheek.

But, the second your lips brushes his skin, he spins around, grabbing your arm with his left hand while shoving you a little bit roughly on the couch. You closed your eyes due to the impact.

When you open your eyes again, the first thing you see is Rin on top of you, pinning both of your hands above your head with his left hand, while supporting his weight with his other hand, placed right next to your shoulder. Suddenly, time freeze as you lay there, completely stunned. How are you supposed to react to what is just happening now?

‘What the hell is he doing??’

And what the hell is this situation? Rin Itoshi currently has you pinned down on the couch? This is completely new to you. Rin has never been like this— like grabbing you and shoving you against a wall to cage you between his arms? Never. Why would he even do that? Rin never really touch you. And if he does, it’s to push you away. So yeah, never. You almost thought he was playing a prank on you, for some reason. That is at least, until you meet his eyes.

His gaze on you is cold. Chilling you to the bone. Yet, you can feel the intensity of his stare burning a hole your face.

‘What—’ From then, you desperately try to look for a hint that he’s messing with you. You search desperately in his eyes some form of anger caused by your little game. In vain. There’s not a single drop of hostility or even his usual annoyance in his eyes. Just an intense and fiery gaze piercing through your defence, leaving you speechless.

You try to steady your breath as your eyes start to water from being open without blinking for too long. Your senses went numb yet at same time, you can still feel his hand slightly brushing against your shoulder, his knee pressed on your hip, and every single pore on your face, trying to regulate the rising temperature of your cheeks.

You can feel Rin’s shallow breath matching the rise and fall of your chest.

All the noise in the room disappear, filtered by the intensity of the moment. Your heartbeat is going crazy as he lets go of your hands, still staring you down. His, now, free hand makes its way to your cheek, gently brushing his thumb on your jawline.

He’s still looking at you, with the same burning intensity, which is now way too intense for you as time passes— intense to the point where you’re no longer able to withstand his gaze.

You avert your gaze, turning your head away from him. You feel dizzy, as if the room is spinning. Seeing your reaction, Rin’s hand slowly stoking your cheek, leaves abruptly, making your breath hitch. You got used to its warmth and now the cold sensation of its absence bites your cheek painfully.

You desperately want to say something. You want to ask Rin what has gotten into him, however the lump in your throat is forcing you into silence. It’s the first time that you’ve ever been this shy in front of him. But it’s also the first time that you can’t figure out what he’s thinking at all.

You just know that him pinning you under him this way, makes you feel so tiny— like a little mouse trapped in the paws of a cat. All you can do is to pray that he doesn’t eat you whole.

You finally muster up the courage to face him, turning back your head to face him. And right at that moment, you catch him staring at your lips. Your eyes widen instantly and your breath hitches. You try to say something. Anything. Yet nothing but a quiet squeak comes out, which makes him look back into your eyes.

Though, it’s too late. Your brain has already crashed.

You’re no longer present, well yes, you are because your body is here, but your mind? Long gone—literally evaporated.

Rin just looked at your lips…

You’ve never imagined yourself with him before. It never even crossed your mind once. He’s just a friend, that’s all he’s ever been to you. A friend— well okay a fucking good looking one. You can’t lie about that. And even if his personality can be quite the challenge, once you get to know him he’s not that hard to deal with. So… why does the idea of being in a romantic relationship with him doesn’t bother you at all? Like at all. If he asks you to go out on a date with him, like right now, you’d definitely accept right away.

Now that you think about it… since when did you even started to feel this way about him? Since when do you want to him to hug you and kiss you so badly?

And Rin? Does he feel the same way as you do? Does he feel something more than friendship for you. Is it for this very reason that constantly refuses your hugs and your affection? Was it why he looked at your lips?

As those questions swirl in your head, Rin gets up and turns off the TV, making is way to the kitchen. You bite the inside of your cheek, hearing him sigh softly while one of his hand runs through his hair.

“- Let’s get something to eat. I’m hungry.” He says.

You only nod, still a bit shaken up by what just happened.

In every movie nights, you’re in charge of the food. Rin tells you what he wants to eat and you either make it—when you feel like it, or you order it. But this time you didn’t even ask him what he wanted to eat. You can’t verbally face him yet, a ton of question still spinning in your head making it impossible to focus. Well, to be completely honest, you’re also being too shy to voice any of your questions. Which is really not like you.

Rin sits down on the dining table and looks at you briefly. It’s quiet. You’re quiet. Too quiet. You’ve never been this quiet ever with him, and that seems to bother him deeply. He tsk in annoyance, a frown tugging at his brows as he seats down at the dining table.

“- For someone who’s always pestering me, trying to get a reaction out of me, now that you’ve got it, you’re this quiet? How tepid.”

Your heart begins to race again as he brings up what has just happened. You never expected him to be the one to mention it first.

“ - I was just… It’s weird! You’ve never done that before, that’s why!” You blurt out defensively.

“ - Keep messing with me like that, and I’ll do it again.”

There’s a brief silence and you blink, processing what he’s just said. Did he just...? You tilt your head and raise an eyebrow, well you were used to Rin being bossy— but not like this? Feeling more confident thanks to him, you smirk, your true self slowly coming back out.

“ - I’ll just have to get used to it.” You retort with a challenging tone.

Rin locks eyes with you, and for a brief moment, you spot that same intense look he had earlier when he pinned you down on the couch. And, just as quickly, his gaze shifts to your lips, then back to your eyes.

“ - I’ll just have to shut you up.”

Rin’s phone suddenly rings, cutting through the silent stare down, the building tension between you two had created. And not without glancing at you one last time, he gets up, heading out of the kitchen to answer the call.

You’re left sitting here, heart racing like a wild horse in your chest. A big but dumb grin plastered on your face, your cheeks and ears burning hot, as you couldn’t help but think out loud.

“ - Guess we’re still not friends then.”

GOD… this took longer than expected. I KEPT ADDING STUFF THATS WHY 😭 I yap a lot when i write. I swear it was supposed to be a 700/1K drabble . But anyways I really had fun writing this!! I Got inspired by my interaction with the Rins RP blog! (I love them so much! Shout out to the mods!) I might do one for Sae but Idk yet.

Well thank you if you read till here!

[thanosscross]

Better as team - Pre Squid game!Choi Su-Bong/Thanos x reader

Summary: In Thanos fashion of being different, he managed to pull one of the biggest rappers in America and UK, despite his very odd and unhinged behavior, upcoming singer/rapper Y/n has no issue sharing the spotlight with her boyfriend

Warnings: None really other than Thanos's drug use, just some funny sweet pre games! Thanos! <3

A/n: So I had to take a different approach because Thanos doesn't really have any songs by the character, so I took a route with some of T.O.P's music, making Nam-Gyu this universe's G-dragon for some songs, so let me know what you think <3

Long distance was hard, especially whenever your fiancée lived in Korea currently, even if you moved everything of yours in his house, you were still forced to be in America or part of the United kingdom most of the time touring, recording, or filming. You never knew how to fix it until Su-Bong decided to step into the rap game himself, you were happy to support him, even collaborating with him on a lot of your songs, even if it was just back-up vocals.

Your fans were quick to fall in love with Thanos in the same way you did, but they didn't see the sweet vulnerable of him, only a few thousand of your friends saw the true Thanos, and that was at his first show with you.

As the giant props slid open revealing you and Thanos you were immediately shocked by how loud the screaming truly was, You jumped off the platform, starting to sing along with the track that played in your ear piece, as you heard Thanos rap his verse, you noticed he was still on the platform, holding onto the railing tightly. The entire show Thanos was glued to you on stage, either holding your hand, or just being near you. The more you preformed though, the more Su-bong found his groove on stage, allowing you both to have a lot more freedom and fun on stage as you sung with him.

You had just released your first single for the year, it wasn't your best work, but your fans seemed to like it a lot, including your fiancée. So as you preformed it on stage, following your choreography that you practiced hours beforehand, You shoved your finger to Thanos's chest as you rapped your verse, once you ended it and the instrumental played for a moment you walked away, pointing towards the camera blowing it a kiss before Thanos quickly picking you up running down to the end of the stage smiling "No! Thanos!" You shouted holding onto him "Take care of my girl!" He shouted before gently handing you over to crowd surf, you squealed, nervous about falling and being swarmed, Thanos watched closely as he starting rapping his verse, following you along on the stage "Alright give me her back! You're gonna hurt her!" Thanos jokingly shouted reaching out into the crowd, you thanked everybody as they helped you over the barrier, back on stage.

Once Thanos started making his own singles, it made everything a new type of fun. He had multiple, Doom Dada, Turn it up, Knock out, and Zutter, some that you'd occasionally have verses in, others were solely Thanos, others he had his friend sing with him, and you couldn't be more proud of him. As you stood on the platform you smiled at your fiancée watching him rap, with his friend, hearing the familiar lyrics to Zutter you swayed your hips to Su-Bong's, as much as he annoyed you, he was always hot on stage, his bad boy act he did was always adorable. As he continued moving his hand along with his words he made his way to you, bringing you over with him to the center of the stage, basically using you as his back up dancer, you laughed at him glancing at his friend who just laughing sticking his tongue out to motion he had taken his stupid cross necklace with him to the concert. As you held his hand you mimicked the dancer who was a few feet in front of you with Nam-Gyu, bending at the waist and swaying your hips, Thanos just smirked, it making him even cockier if ever possible. As you spun around to get in line with the others to blend out of the dance, Thanos just pulled you close to him as he squatted down to rap to some of the girls up front against the barricades. You wanted to strangle him, but instead just continued until the song ended, Nam-Gyu going backstage while his next single came on, you walked around, purposely trying to match the moves your chorographers showed you to 'compliment' each other during verses and songs.

As you finished your show, you felt as if you were going to pass out, saving your most upbeat songs for the very end was a mistake, You laid on the stage floor, the curtain had been closed for awhile, the fans all funneled out not long ago, but the floor was so cool against your face "Sunflower, What're you doing on the floor?" Thanos asked approaching you with your coat "I'm so hot, and so tired" You groaned, not wanting to move yet, Thanos just sighed pulling you to your feet raising his eyebrows as your head fell back in exhaustion "I wanna go home" You groaned smacking his side playfully, he just laughed wrapping your coat around your shoulders along with his arm, leading you out to the tour bus "Come on, we can sleep in here, until we get to the hotel" He offered shutting and locking the door after you walked in, you nodded, crawling into the bed placed in the back of the tour bus, Su-bong not far behind.

Your California shows were even more exhilarating, because of your and your boyfriend's hometowns, your guy's music reached to all different areas of the world, making you both known internationally. As you stood on the stage you stood in shock at how huge the arena was "I think this might be our biggest show, Baby" You stated noticing your purple haired boyfriend making his way to the stage floor "Holy shit!" He shouted, spinning around, his little rapper heart exploding at just the size of the place, not to mention that you were sold out, so they were all there for you and him. You smiled walking over to him giggling "We still have mic check" You reminded, he just turned pulling you closer to his body "This is fucking amazing" He whispered pressing his lips to yours, you happily kissed back, never noticing your other band mate walking out "Holy shit, guys!" Nam-Gyu shouted before noticing the both of you "Guys! We have mic check! Not mouth check!" He groaned, going to grab all the microphones from the stage manager.

The show is crazy for you at least, everybody was screaming and singing along, the vibes between the three of you on stage was perfect, everything was going right and you could tell it made the three of you even more pumped. As you jumped around singing along with Thanos to your shared song 'high high', you weren't very open about your sex life, but you had a character to play on stage, using your bisexuality show mainly in your songs. As you got to the chorus you had to hold back a laugh watching Nam-Gyu jump onto Thanos's back as he sang with his friend, Smirking making your way to the edge of the stage, offering your hands to your fans as the boys continued singing. As the show continued you stopped for a moment to breathe "You guys wanna hear my favorite song?" You asked teasingly into your microphone, the crowd screamed loudly in response, Your fiancée's eyes snapping over to yours "Only if Y/n does the chorography right" He replied, his voice deep as he looked up to you through his lashes, you rolled your eyes going to your marker as Knock out started to blare through the speakers. You moved with both boys as they sung, you microphone sitting with your stage manager so you wouldn't risk dropping it. You giggled a bit as you shifted to the left and right quickly with the beat of the music, watching Nam-Gyu make his way to the end of the stage with his verse, as Thanos started up he kept eye contact with you, going along with the track in his ear. You weren't sure what to do for a moment, seeing him going off the dance you rehearsed was confusing, but you quickly got back into it as Nam-gyu made his way back over, following his rehearsed part at least. You kept eye contact as you swayed your hips to your fiancée's verse, Nam-Gyu holding your hand in the air as his hand ghosted over your hips, that was one thing you loved about your fellow bandmate, no matter how much he tried to get with you whenever you first met, he was always respectful of you and your relationship while preforming.

You moved away as the boys moved closer together to sing the end chorus together, as the music cut out, it was replaced by screams, you spun around excitedly before walking between the two smiling before looking at Thanos "You like, baby?" He asked into his mic before the lights cut out and the platform on the stage started to close so you were hidden by the props again. "That was amazing!!" You squealed loudly, Thanos just shook his head laughing before bringing his microphone up "You're still on" He whispered, you gasped, your cheeks heating up in a bright red blush, flipping the switches off and handing it to your manager you hugged both boys tightly "I swear that was our best show yet!" Nam-Gyu shouted excitedly, you nodded in agreement as Thanos kept his arms around you "How about, we go..out and party? As celebration?" He offered, you glanced at Nam-Gyu before you both agreed, making your way to the dressing rooms to change.

After your last show in California, you felt like the three of you just bounced off of each other perfectly, your management even making a statement by getting you a shared house to stay in during breaks from tour. Rushing down the stairs to said home you huffed "Boys! We have promo pictures in an hour! Why aren't you ready!?" You shouted in shock, both boys turned their heads to look at you "We are ready, you're just...overdressed" Thanos offered staring at your baggy jeans and tight as hell tanktop, one of his oversized button ups as a cover-up, one sleeve sitting at your elbow, the other sitting on your shoulder "No, I am dressed for our promo and album cover photoshoot!" You whined, they were starting to piss you off, they had known about this for weeks leading up to it, so why weren't they taking it seriously.

After a very long stare down between your bandmates, they rushed upstairs to change before meeting you outside in the car, apologizing to your driver for the wait, you were on your way to the shoot. You wished you could say it got easier after that, but it didn't, the boys pulling off their own poses they wanted, rather than what the photographer and PR team wanted. As you approached the scene, you manager gave you a pleading look, without the need of saying anything you already understood, they were high and not listening to instructions. "Boys! Let's wrap this up!" You demanded before walking to them, standing on your marker, listening carefully as the photographer told you how to stand with both men. As you stood proudly between them, you sighed as they were still talking behind you about what stunt they should try next at the next show, you turned around, the photographer expecting you to shout, but instead you just gently took both men's hands placing them on your shoulders "Now, shut up please, and look pretty" You stated looking at the camera lenses, your manager just laughed shaking her head "That's y/n, both boys listen to her like a scripture" She whispered to the team behind the cameras, you didn't have much issues after that, the tension quickly fading whenever you got on set with the boys.

While you weren't sure how any of this would end in the future, you were all three sure of one thing, you all worked better as a team, the boys giving you the confidence you need to preform live, and you keeping the boys in line and sane whenever it came to literally anything.

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[magical-reid]

Little Things

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 1K

Narrative Perspective: Third person limited (Reader’s POV)

Prompt: 25: “You bought me flowers?” “Yeah, well I noticed you’d seemed kinda down, so I wanted to cheer you up.” 

Summary: Feeling trapped in the weight of her own mind, you’ve spent days lost in a fog of hopelessness, convinced no one would notice. But when Bucky shows up at your door with a bouquet of flowers and no judgment, his quiet understanding pulls you out of your isolation, reminding you that you're not alone, and maybe, just maybe, there’s light even in the darkest moments.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt light.

Everything seemed weighted, from the gray overcast sky outside your apartment window to the simple act of breathing. Even getting up this morning had felt like scaling a mountain, each motion slow and deliberate, like you were dragging your limbs through molasses.

The world outside continued to churn—cars honked, people shouted, a dog barked somewhere down the block—but it felt distant, like you were underwater. It didn’t matter what was going on out there; you were stuck here, trapped in the storm inside your own head.

A part of you knew it wasn’t supposed to feel this way. That people didn’t sit on their couch for hours staring at the floor, lost in thought spirals that twisted tighter and tighter. That it wasn’t normal to feel like your chest was caving in every time someone asked, “How are you doing?” because the answer was always wrong.

I’m fine.

I’m tired.

I’m busy.

None of it felt true, but what were you supposed to say? “I feel like a hollow shell of myself, and I don’t know why or how to fix it”? Nobody wanted to hear that.

So you sat there, unmoving, as the afternoon bled into early evening, your apartment dimming around you. You didn’t bother to turn on the lights. Maybe it would be easier if the darkness just swallowed you whole.

A knock broke through your haze, startling you. It wasn’t loud or forceful—just two soft raps against your door—but it jolted you all the same. For a moment, you considered ignoring it. What if they just went away?

But the knock came again, and something about its persistence pushed you to your feet.

When you opened the door, Bucky stood there, his broad shoulders hunched slightly against the drizzle falling outside. His dark leather jacket glistened faintly with rain, droplets clinging to the strands of his hair where it curled at the ends. In his left hand, the metal one, he held a bouquet of flowers.

For a second, you just stared. The image didn’t compute—Bucky, who always seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, standing at your door holding something so bright, so cheerful.

“You bought me flowers?” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could think.

Bucky shifted awkwardly, his eyes darting to the side. “Yeah, well…” He scratched the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish. “I noticed you’d seemed kinda down, so I wanted to cheer you up.”

Something cracked in you at that. It wasn’t a clean break—it was jagged, sharp—but it let something through the fog. You lowered your gaze to the bouquet, taking in the vibrant sunflowers, soft daisies, and delicate sprays of baby’s breath. The yellows and whites seemed to glow against the gray of the day, like a stubborn little patch of light in an otherwise dark world.

“I…” You tried to speak, but your throat felt tight, the words sticking. You hadn’t expected anyone to notice. You hadn’t expected him to notice.

Bucky must have sensed your struggle because he took a hesitant step forward, holding the flowers out to you. “If you don’t like them, I can—”

“No!” Your voice came out louder than you intended, and you reached out quickly, your fingers brushing against his gloved ones as you took the bouquet. “I love them, Bucky. Really.”

Your voice cracked, and as soon as it did, you felt the hot sting of tears gathering behind your eyes. You bit your lip, trying to keep them at bay, but it was no use. One slid down your cheek, and then another.

Bucky’s expression shifted immediately—softening in a way that made your chest ache. He stepped closer, his blue eyes locked on yours, and you could see the concern etched in every line of his face.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “What’s wrong?”

You let out a shaky laugh, though it held no humor. “Everything?” you managed, clutching the flowers tighter to your chest. “I don’t know, Buck. I’ve just been… stuck. And it feels like I’m drowning, and I don’t know how to stop it.”

The admission hung in the air between you, raw and unfiltered. You hadn’t planned to say any of it, but once it started, it wouldn’t stop.

“I didn’t mean to dump all that on you,” you said quickly, lowering your gaze to the floor. “I’m sorry. I just—”

“Don’t.” His voice was firm but gentle, grounding you. “Don’t apologize. You don’t have to.”

You looked up at him, and the sincerity in his expression nearly undid you. There was no judgment, no awkwardness—just understanding. Bucky, of all people, understood what it was like to feel broken.

He reached out slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away, and brushed a tear off your cheek with his thumb. The touch was light, almost hesitant, but it made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t in a long time.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” he said, his voice steady. “I’m here, okay? Whenever you need me.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He smiled then—a small, crooked thing that made your chest feel a little less heavy. “Anytime, doll.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the quiet stretching between you. Then Bucky glanced down at the flowers in your hands. “I wasn’t sure what kind to get. They just… looked like something you’d like.”

You let out a soft laugh, brushing your fingers over the petals. “They’re perfect.”

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: i love a good wedding fic and ive been excited to share this one! 🤍 not too much to say except i loved writing this and i hope you guys love reading it 🥰

word count: 7.5k

tw: unprotected sex, dirty talk, disgusting amount of domestic fluff,

summary: on a cold february day on long island, you and mat make it official surrounded by your friends and family

You’re awake before your eyes open, the baby fluttering around wakes you most days now, an excited roll in your stomach that gets you smiling before you’re even really conscious.

Watery February sunlight leaks in around the edges of your bedroom curtains, doing nothing to cut the Long Island winter chill. You curl up closer against Mat’s side, the round swell of your stomach pressed against his ribs, one of your legs thrown over his thigh.

Mat’s arm is around your back, his hand splayed over your hip, and he shifts to drag you closer even though there’s barely an inch of space between your bodies. He mumbles something, but doesn’t wake up, and you press your nose against his chest to soak up his warmth. Your usual blanket-hog fiancé has been surprisingly generous with sharing ever since you told him you were pregnant. Of course, now you rarely want the blanket since your body feels like a furnace half the time. But it’s the thought that counts.

The baby flutters again and you grin sleepily into the fabric of Mat’s shirt, patting the side of your stomach and murmuring, “morning to you too.”

You get an answering nudge and giggle, waking Mat in the process.

“Wha’s a matter?” He mumbles, voice slurred with sleep. He’s been back home for a couple of days now, the two week break already half over, but Mat’s always loved catching up on his sleep when he gets the chance.

“Sorry,” you murmur, “just talking to the baby. We’re okay. Go back to sleep.”

He hums and stretches, pulling you even tighter against his side and making you laugh a little. “Nah, I’m awake,” he says, sounding clearer. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Slept through the night, huh?”

“Nope,” you laugh, tangling your legs with his and enjoying the feeling of Mat’s muscled thigh between yours, “I got up to pee, but you slept through it.” You rock a little against his leg, barely aware you’re doing it.

Mat chuckles a bit and his hand slides over your ass lazily, palming it before giving it a brief squeeze. You lean into him, arm over his stomach, cheek against his heart, just quietly breathing together. You know he was bummed not to be picked for the All-Star Game this year, but you have to admit that selfishly you’re glad he’s home and you can relax together before the baby comes this summer. The season’s been a whirlwind and you’ve been busy planning your summer wedding, so it’s nice to just be quiet together. Not that today’s going to be quiet.

“Ready to get married?” You ask, tipping your head up and resting your chin on Mat’s chest. He looks deliciously sleep tousled, hair sticking up in all directions and a small smile ticking at his lips.

“Hell fucking yes,” he grins fully now, entire face scrunched up. His hand shifts from your ass to stroke at the side of your stomach, tickling lightly. “Baby daddy to husband, pretty solid upgrade.”

You snort a laugh and shift a little, hips aching from being on your side all night. “I’m looking forward to the wife upgrade,” you tease back. “I’m tired of the nurse at my OB/Gyn giving me dirty looks because I got knocked up out of wedlock.”

You’re not expecting Mat to have such a reaction to your throwaway comment, but he jolts and half-sits, forcing you to shift away from his side. Your head lands on your own pillow and you squeak from the surprise and sudden movement.

“Wait seriously?” He narrows his eyes at you, a concerned frown turning his lips down at the corners. “You never said anything, that’s bullshit.”

“She’s never said anything to my face,” you wave him off with a shrug. “I’m not overly concerned about it, Mat.”

“Well, I care!” He scoots back up against the headboard, pillows bunched up behind his back and you can see he’s getting worked up on your behalf, which is sweet, but right now all you really want is a cuddle and a back massage. “What right does she have to be judging you? Doesn’t that go against all the like medical codes and shit?”

You roll onto your back briefly to stretch while you answer him, “I think it only goes against medical ethics if she says something or like reports me to CPS? I don’t know, Mat. But after today it’s a non-issue. So, as adorable as you are when you’re defending me, can you please just rub my back and maybe give me one more engaged woman orgasm before they become married woman orgasms?”

That’s been a major perk of the second trimester - after your morning sickness and general all-day nausea had faded, you’d been wildly horny for Mat. Not that you weren’t before you were pregnant, but now everything feels heightened and luckily, Mat’s more than happy to indulge in your pouted pleas when he’s home.

Sure enough, Mat laughs and leans down to kiss you sweetly, tongue tracing over your lower lip, while he nudges you onto your side. “What baby mama wants, baby mama gets,” he teases, slotting himself in behind you so your ass is tucked up against his hardening cock. You hum happily and wiggle a bit, letting the hem of your oversized shirt ride up on your hip. Despite the chill, you more barely able to sleep in shorts because you’re running so hot lately. It’s definitely easier for Mat to indulge in your extra horny desires though.

“Making my job really easy over here,” Mat groans a little, his fingers digging into your hip. “Can feel how wet you are, babe.”

“Good,” your voice hiccups into a whine when Mat’s fingers slip under the edge of your panties, tracing around your clit delicately. “Harder, Mat, please.”

You wiggle your hips again and Mat presses a kiss to the back of your neck, murmuring for you to be patient.

His hips rock into yours and you feel his hands at your ass, moving fabric and caressing your skin until the hot ridge of his cock is pressed against your skin, making you hiccup a gasp. You’re soaked, ready for him and Mat is too gentle when he shifts you into position, lifting your leg so it’s pulled back a little, giving him room to slide his cock into you easily. He groans into your hair as he slides home, buried deep in your cunt.

“Feel so good, baby,” he mumbles, holding your leg up for you and starting to move. His cock glides easily, slicked up from your arousal, and you angle your hips backwards to take more of him.

You whine his name, needy and greedy as he fucks you slowly.

“I got you, I got you,” he chants, kissing your neck and behind your ear. One of your hands reaches back and buries in Mat’s hair, tugging gently, while the other digs at his wrist, holding his fingers in place while he toys with your swollen clit. You rock against his hand as best as you can, belly making smooth movement difficult.

“There we go,” he coos in your ear. “Almost there, can feel you clenching around me.”

Mat’s dirty talk is what finally pushes you over the edge, orgasm hitting like a truck, sparks flashing at the corner of your vision. You’re breathless, moaning his name and burying your face in your pillow as you come around his cock, Mat following you over the edge a few thrusts later. He fills you and you shiver, going limp in his arms.

You’re overly warm now, hot from the inside, and your shirt sticks to your back. Sweat beads at your hairline and you wince when Mat brushes his nose against your temple. “I’m gross now,” you complain, the baby rolling in your womb from the increase in your heart rate.

“Never,” Mat nips at your earlobe, slipping out of you and using his hand to wipe at the come splattered on your inner thighs before shifting your panties back into place. “You’re gorgeous, my fucking perfect wife-to-be.”

“Flatterer,” you accuse, curling up in his embrace with a tiny yawn. “Next time I want it harder,” you say, biting gently at his forearm where it’s banded over your chest.

You can feel his smirk when he replies, “if that’s what wifey wants.” He says it, but you know he won’t go as hard as you’d like because he doesn’t want to hurt the baby. Which is sweet, but you’re definitely trying to change his mind on that.

Mat lets you cuddle with him for a little bit longer, until you really start to feel gross and need a shower before you start getting ready for the day.

While you use the big shower in your en-suite, Mat showers in the guest bathroom and changes the sheets so you emerge from the Sol de Janiero scented steam to a clean fiancé and a freshly-made bed.

“I’m going to make sure everything’s set up downstairs,” Mat says, watching you slather your body in lotion. He reaches out to tap the bump, pressing his palm flat against the curve. You grin, willing the baby to kick so he can feel it. Nothing.

“Okay,” you nod, pulling on a pair of his sweats. Comfort is key right now. “It should all be ready to go.”

You’re having a little ceremony in the house before going out for the reception/dinner. It’s low key and easy, two things that you’re very happy for right now. The bigger party will be this summer, baby in tow. But it had been important to you that you and Mat were married before the baby comes. So, living room ceremony, officiated by your dad in the middle of Mat’s February break it is.

You’d picked up the marriage license yesterday, had the flowers delivered last night.

Your parents and Mat’s parents had flown in earlier in the week, Liana following two days ago. Beau and Emma arrived yesterday afternoon, ignoring your invitation to use the guest room in favor of a hotel, explaining that as much as they loved you both, listening to your sex life wasn’t something they wanted to do again, not after the tropical vacation where your rooms had shared a wall.

It’s not like you can blame them, not when you consider what you and Mat had gotten up to less than a hour ago.

“Last chance to make me go get ready at Bo’s,” Mat teases, pushing his hair off his face.

You shoot him a wry look, cupping the lower curve of your belly. “Hmm, I think we’ve blown that superstition out the window,” you reply. “Besides, you don’t have any plans to pull a runner, right?”

“Not a chance,” Mat says firmly, as if you could ever think otherwise. “You got me for life, Squeaksy.”

“Good,” you tilt your head up for a kiss, smiling against his mouth.

——

Mat disappears for a bit, but you can hear him rattling around downstairs and you assume he’s moving chairs and flower arrangements, so you’re not concerned.

While he does whatever he’s doing, you prop your phone up against the mirror on your vanity, thumbing open Tik Tok with the intention of creating a video diary of the day. Maybe you’ll edit it for Instagram, but right now it’s just for you.

“Well, it’s February fifteenth,” you smile into the camera, “and Mat and I are getting married.”

You shake your head, feeling a little silly for talking to the screen, and continue, “Dad’s officiating and we’re getting married in the living room. A fancy shotgun wedding.”

“I’m so excited to be Mat’s wife,” you can’t help the giant smile that spreads across your face, digging out your Dyson to dry your hair. “I’m so excited to be this little bug’s mom,” you pat your stomach and giggle, thinking about how much your life has changed in the last few years.

“Let’s get this party on the road,” you say, stopping the recording so you can fix your hair.

An hour later, you’re sweating slightly and a little out of breath, but your hair is dry and twisted into a casual up-do. It looks worse than the inspo pic, but better than you thought you’d be able to manage. So you’re treating it as a win.

Mat reappears and you catch sight of him in the mirror. “Hey!” You smile at him. “Did you fall into Narnia or something? What happened?”

“Had to make sure everything was set up,” he shrugs. And then his hands appear from behind his back, a pastry box in one and a smaller wrapped box in the other. “Plus I had a quick errand to run.”

Tears prick at your waterline, heart melting at Mat’s sweet surprise. “You got breakfast?” You ask, voice wavering. “How didn’t I hear you leave?”

“I’m a super spy,” Mat sets both boxes in front of you and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “Got you a ham and cheese croissant so eat at least a few bites of that for protein before you go right for the sugar.”

“Yes, dad,” you tease, wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. Mat’s eyes twinkle and you roll yours at him before pinching off a corner of the ham and cheese, nibbling at it slowly. Morning sickness is in the rear view, but you don’t want to tempt it today. Your eyes keep flicking over to the smaller wrapped box, about the size of one of those perfume sets with lotion and a rollerball along with the full sized bottle and wrapped in, of all things, birthday paper.

Around a mouthful of chocolate croissant, Mat says, “in my defense, I thought it was going to come wrapped and I couldn’t find wedding paper last minute.”

A laugh bubbles in your chest and you pick up the box. It’s lighter than you expected. “Yours is in my night table drawer,” you say, rubbing your stomach for exaggerated effect. “Can you go get it for your pregnant fiancée?”

Instead of getting up, Mat rolls backwards on the bed and reaches for the drawer, withdrawing the small wrapped box. Navy blue paper, because you have nothing but time on your hands.

“You go first,” you encourage him, tipping your chin at the box, wiggling excitedly in your seat. You’re not sure who originally brought up the idea of wedding day gifts, but once you’d decided to do it after Valentine’s Day, it was easy to fold the gifts into one and you’re excited for Mat to see his gift. “From me and Baby B.”

Mat’s jaw drops when he opens the Rolex, its royal blue and gold face twinkling under the overhead lights. “Shit, babe, this is so cool,” he turns it in his hand, thumb brushing over the face. He gives you a beaming smile and leans in to kiss you deeply.

“It’s vintage, 1997,” you say. “And I stole one of your other watches to get the band on this one adjusted, so you can wear it today.”

Mat’s already got the watch on his wrist before you even finish your sentence, turning it so he can see what it looks like from all angles. “Shit, I love it. You shouldn’t have spent so much,” he says, eyebrows drawing together.

“It’s from me and the baby,” you shrug, laughing a little. Your fingers play at the messy edges of the wrapping paper on your gift. “Besides, you deserve it. We love you.”

He shakes his head and tells you to open your gift, wrapping paper falling away to reveal two black velvet jewelry boxes nestled inside an old Amazon box. Mat’s wrapping abilities, or lack thereof, never fail to make you smile. It’s your turn for your jaw to drop when you pop open the boxes to find a huge emerald cut amethyst cocktail ring and a matching necklace, the amethyst set horizontally on the chain.

“Oh, Mat,” you gasp, blinking rapidly to clear your vision. Tears are your new best friend, crying at the drop of a hat lately, but especially when Mat’s being sweet. “These are…”

He ruffles a hand through his hair, looking a little sheepish. “I, uh, talked to the girls. Amethyst is the February birthstone and obviously a wedding isn’t a birth, but I thought it would be a cool thing,” he explains. “And I’ve never seen you say no to a ring.”

You both look down at your hands, dainty gold stackable bands on most of your fingers, and you huff a little laugh. “Yeah, I need to take a few of these off for today,” you say, already pulling a few off so you can slide the cocktail ring onto your right ring finger. It’s a perfect fit.

Mat stands up and takes the necklace, clasping it around your neck and brushing his lips over your temple. The amethyst settles nicely into the notch between your collarbones, the setting cool against your skin. “Glad you like them,” he whispers.

“You’re such a sap,” you wipe at the tears again. “I love you, like a stupid amount, Mat Barzal.”

——-

Mat watches you finish getting ready, flopped on his back on your bed and commenting on your makeup choices until you threaten to spray him with the glittery hairspray left over from Halloween.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, hands up in surrender as he backs off into the walk-in. “No glitter bombs.”

“That’s what I thought,” you stick your tongue out at him, laughing. Mat shoots an innocent, boyish grin at you and disappears to his side of the closet to get dressed. He shuffles around and you hear him bang into the wall, mutter a curse, and open a drawer. “You okay in there?”

“Fine,” he calls back. “Wall’s in a different spot than I remember.”

You laugh faintly at his terrible joke and smooth your palm over your stomach, murmuring to the bump, “your daddy is terrible at telling jokes.”

“I heard that,” Mat shouts out, laughing too. You don’t bother replying, instead propping your phone up and changing quickly into your dress. It’s a white cashmere sweater dress, comfortable and warm for the cold February day. The soft material stretches over your bump, highlighting the rounding swell and making you smile when you turn to the side and cup your hand under the bump.

A giddy bubble of excitement fills your chest, the baby rolling around and nudging up against your stomach. You’re so excited to make your little family with Mat official.

“You decent out there?” Mat calls.

“When has that ever stopped you?” You shout back, only slightly sad that you’re not having a traditional wedding experience. There’s no reason for Mat to not see you in your dress before the ceremony, not since it’s a simple, little thing.

Your fiancé steps back into the room, looking handsome as sin in his dark navy suit, hair brushed off his forehead. No tie, because why be so formal when you’re just getting married in the house? Selfishly, you love the peek of his chest and collarbones through the unbuttoned collar, the glimpse of his chain around his neck. He’s adjusting his cuffs and when he looks up at you, his jaw drops a little and his eyes twinkle.

“Hey,” Mat grins.

“Hey, yourself,” you reply, feeling giddy.

“You look,” Mat pauses, coming closer and letting his hands rest on the swell of your stomach, thumbs brushing over your belly button, “gorgeous.”

A warm flush heats your face and your smile softens. “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself,” you tease lightly.

Mat’s hands roam over your stomach, heating your skin through the cashmere, and sending the baby on a wild movement. He hasn’t been able to feel the kicks yet, but you’re hoping it’ll be any day now.

“Never gets old,” he says, dropping a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before finishing, “seeing you full with my baby.”

“You’re a caveman,” you shake your head, shrieking a giggle when Mat pulls you against at his chest, your stomach bumping against his, and kisses you hungrily. One hand rests in the curve of your lower back, but the other is splayed protectively over the bump.

“Just wait,” he mutters against your mouth, voice a rough growl, “gonna put another baby in you as soon as I can.”

You brush the tip of your nose against Mat’s, pretending you’re unaffected by his words, even as your stomach flips with excitement. “Mhm,” you hum, lips brushing against his cheek, while your hands wander under his jacket and around to his back, “a little hockey team of mini-Mats? Don’t have to work too hard to convince me.”

“Next year we can get started on the twenty-three man roster,” Mat jokes, hugging you to his chest. You snuggle up to him, making sure not to smudge your makeup on his shirt, and relax into his embrace.

“Lets hold off on baby-making until this one’s here,” you grin against his chest and hold your left hand up in front of his face where your engagement ring twinkles in the bedroom lighting, “and until you’ve made an honest woman of me.”

Mat snorts a laugh and you nudge his stomach before stepping back and rolling your eyes at him. He smirks, “babe, that ship is so far sailed it’s in Australia.”

“Mean,” you pout, tugging at the lapel of his jacket. “You can make it up to me by joining me for a little video. Wedding day fit check?”

“Whatever you want,” he replies, brushing a kiss to your temple. You beam and shift so you can set up the recording on your phone, Mat settled in at your back, chin resting on your shoulder and palms splayed over your stomach.

You wave at the camera, smiling, and start narrating, “hi everyone! I’m posting on a delay, but today this guy,” you jab your thumb over your shoulder at Mat and he gives a little wave too, “and I are getting married.”

After a brief pause, you continue, “little bit of a shotgun situation and I’ll give some more details later, not all of them, but some. For now, how about a quick fit check?”

Mat’s hands shift to your disappearing waist, holding you steady so you can lift your foot and show off the navy velvet heels you’re wearing. “Sam Edelman,” you explain. “A perfect match to Mat’s suit.”

“The unconventional wedding dress,” you cover Mat’s hands with yours and smooth them over the bump, “is Tom Ford.”

The dress isn’t technically maternity, just sized up a bit, and it fits over the bump and your pregnancy boobs like a glove. The hem flutters around your shins, long sleeves and mock turtleneck making it a little more modest. But Mat presses his lips to your exposed shoulder blade and you’re reminded of the triangle shaped cut out on the back.

“Mat’s also in Tom Ford,” you step slightly to the side, so his suit is fully visible. He gives the camera a smirk and tugs you back into place so you can finish and get downstairs.

You show off your new jewelry, described as gift from Mat without mentioning that he got it from Anthony, his private jeweler in the city. A quick mention of the Tom Ford Rose d’Amalfi perfume you’d bought especially for the wedding and don’t plan on using unless it’s a special occasion.

“And finally,” you giggle, turning to the side and outlining the bump, “baby bump courtesy of Mat Barzal, baby daddy and soon-to-be husband.”

Mat cradles the bump and tugs you back against his chest, looking right at the camera to say, “off to make an honest woman out of Squeaks, see you guys!”

“Joke thief,” you accuse, wincing as the baby gives a particularly forceful kick to your side. Behind you, Mat gasps a little into your hair, his palm flattening and pressing harder against the spot where the baby just kicked. “Wait—“ you murmur, eyes wide. “Did you -?”

“I just felt a kick!” Mat yelps, excitement radiating off of him. He turns you in his arms, a huge grin splitting his face. His hands never leave your stomach, pressing against the spot. Baby kicks again and Mat’s smile seems to grow impossibly wider. “Holy shit, she did it again!”

His eyes are a little glassy, his smile crinkling at the corners of his eyes.

“She?” You hiccup, emotion clogging at your throat. You’ve been waiting so long for Mat to feel the baby kick and it just seems like the little bug was waiting for the perfect moment. You press your thumb against the inner corner of your eye, trying to stem the tears that are gathering.

Mat shrugs. “Just a feeling,” he says. “Could be a boy with that strong kick. Shit, I don’t care one way or the other, I just want to feel the kick again.”

You hold your breath, waiting. Mat taps the side of your stomach, but the baby seems to be done for now, settled into a comfortable position.

“Later,” you promise him, watching his smile fade slightly. “Give me a full fat Coke at dinner and bug will be rolling around like a lunatic.”

“I’m holding you to that,” he laughs, giving your stomach one last tap before kissing your forehead and letting you slip away to grab your phone. You tap the screen to stop the recording, thrilled that you got Mat’s reaction to feeling his first kick on video. That one will be just for you.

—-

Mat leaves you sequestered upstairs so you’ll be surprised by the way the living room has been transformed, his words, and you’re briefly bored until you hear the front door open.

Suddenly, there’s plenty of noise and commotion. downstairs. You can pick out Liana’s voice and your mom’s. Then the chatter of children signalling that your friends are here too, all on time for the relaxed ceremony.

Soon enough, you’re joined upstairs by Liana, Sydney, and Holly, all three of them showering you in compliments before passing over your bouquet of pale roses and eucalyptus.

“Mat said he felt a kick?” Liana exclaims, pulling you into a hug. “I want to feel!”

You laugh and guide her hand to the spot where you’d been elbowed a few minutes ago. “Maybe here? Bug is chilled out in there.”

After a few seconds, when it becomes clear Liana won’t feel anything, she frowns and pulls her hand away. “Kid’s already being difficult, like their dad,” she shakes her head.

Bo appears in the doorway, grinning at you, with Tulsa held in his arms. “I think everything’s ready down there,” he says. “I was sent to retrieve the bride. Also,” he adds, “you look beautiful.”

“Consider the bride retrieved,” you joke, following everyone out of your bedroom and out onto the second floor landing. “And thank you.”

They all traipse back downstairs and you’re left alone for a few minutes, completely calm and more than excited to get downstairs to Mat.

You stroke the curve of your stomach and whisper, “let’s go down to Daddy, huh, Bug?”

The baby rolls around in agreement and then the music starts and in a blink you find yourself downstairs, barely registering the transformation of your living room and all your excited guests. Your only focus is Mat, standing by your fireplace, a soft, goofy grin on his face.

He mouths “hi” at you as you come to stand in front of him, immediately grabbing your hand and leaning in to try and kiss you. Everyone laughs, including your dad, who, as a retired Nassau County judge, is officiating the ceremony.

“Save that for later,” he jokes, getting laughter from the crowd again.

Mat grins and says, “sorry, can’t help it,” before letting your dad take over again.

The ceremony is a blur, you cry your way through your vows and through Mat’s, wiping delicately at the tears gathering. You’re grateful that everyone is taking pictures and video, because you’re barely able to process Mat’s vows as he says them.

Mat’s hand is steady as he slides the pavè diamond band on your ring finger, but yours shakes while you push the gold band over his.

Your dad announces you as husband and wife and Mat doesn’t wait for his cue, wrapping a hand around your waist and pulling you close so he can cradle your cheek in his other hand and kiss you deeply, dipping you back slightly and chuckling into your mouth. You gasp a little as your back arches, giggling against his lips while you return the kiss.

He pulls back a little and kisses you again, your friends and family whooping and cheering for you.

“Ma belle femme,” Mat whispers against your mouth when he pulls back again, the French endearment hitting right in the chest and making your stomach flutter with joy. “Je t’aime.”

“I love you, husband,” you reply, equally quiet, barely audible over your dad announcing you as Mr and Mrs Mathew Barzal. It barely feels real, but the baby kicks and your hand is at the side of your stomach, a huge grin hurting your cheeks.

Mat kisses you again and you wave your bouquet a little, immediately bombarded by your mom and Nadia and Liana, three sets of arms wrapping you up in hugs. It’s not a typical wedding, so everything is a little chaotic, with all of your guests happy to smother you and Mat in love. His hand never seems to leave your body though - fingers laced through yours when he accepts a hug from Syd, pressed up against your side when Bo gives him a handshake and back-slapping hug.

Your face hurts from smiling, the pure excitement at finally being Mrs. Mathew Barzal making you a little dizzy.

Holly presses a bottle of water into your hand and grins, “drink, girl. You look a little pale.”

After sucking back half of the bottle, you shrug sheepishly. “It’s been a minute since I had anything to drink,” you admit, “between the baby and the excitement I didn’t want to have to run off to the bathroom, mid-vows.”

Mat’s hand is on your lower back, fingers absently stroking as he chats with Marty, Casey, and Beau. You look over your shoulder at him and feel your grin go stupid. He must feel your gaze, because without looking away from his conversation, he taps at your lower back and says, “we’re heading out to Primehouse in a few, Squeaks, but do you need to eat something before then?”

“No, I’m okay,” you assure him and wrinkle your nose at Holly when she starts teasing you about how cute you and Mat are.

——-

The party moves to Primehouse for dinner, Mat’s Defender leading the parade of cars to the steakhouse. You giggle when you see it, paint-markered words across the back window proclaiming you and Mat ‘Just Married’ with little doodles on the back passenger windows that look like they were courtesy of the kids. Someone even tied a string of cans to the back bumper and your dad shakes his head, cutting them off before you can drive away.

“That’s a traffic hazard and I’d like you three to get to the restaurant in one piece,” he says, kissing the top of your head.

“Don’t worry,” Mat assures him. “I never would’ve driven with that on.”

“Liar,” you whisper to your husband - husband! - knowing he had mentioned adding cans to the back of the limo for your summer wedding, claiming they looked cool.

Mat nudges you into the car, giving your dad a winning smile until he pulls the door shut behind him and leans over the center console to grip your chin in one hand and lean his face down to yours for a kiss. You hum into his mouth and then one of the cars behind you honks, startling you away from Mat, laughing loudly.

“Get a room!” Noah and Beau shout simultaneously, laughing while Marty hits his palm on the back window. Mat flips them all off and gets the car started, leaving his hand on your stomach after he’s shifted into gear. The baby kicks at Mat’s palm and he grins widely.

“Shit, I love that,” he laughs, tickling your stomach gently with the tips of his fingers while he drives. You squirm and press your hand on top of his, flattening his fingers in place.

“Stop that,” you grumble, “I’m going to pee my pants if I laugh.”

Mat grins at you and shakes his head, flipping his hand over and lacing his fingers with yours. “Got it, first stop at Primehouse is definitely the bathroom,” he wiggles his eyebrows as he talks and you shake your head at him.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Mister Barzal,” you retort primly, sticking your nose up in the air with a faint giggle. “I’m a married woman now, I’m keeping it classy.”

“You’re my married woman, Mrs. Barzal,” he shoots back, eyes twinkling delightedly. “I like you a little dirty.”

You wink at him, smile splitting your face. “I’ve heard married sex can get stale, let’s make sure that never happens to us, okay?” You squeeze his fingers lightly and he squeezes back.

“Babe,” Mat replies seriously, turning to look at you as he pulls to a stop at a red light, “that is never going to happen. I can promise you that.”

Mat’s serious expression makes your heart skip a beat and your throat clog a little with emotion. Damn pregnancy hormones. You only manage a little nod in response and Mat holds your hand for the rest of the short drive.

He opens the door for you after he parks and helps you down from the seat, closing the door quickly and pressing your back against it, so he can crowd you against the side of the car and cup your cheek to angle your mouth up to his for a kiss. You grin against his mouth, your belly pressed up against his making the baby kick wildly.

You lean happily into the kiss, melting under Mat’s touch. His free hand is warm on your waist, thumb stroking gently at your ribs. His leg tries to wiggle its way between yours, but is stopped by the knitted fabric of your dress and he grunts a little into your mouth, frustrated. You giggle.

“Love you,” he mumbles against your lips when the kiss breaks apart.

“Love you more,” you reply, breathless from the kiss and pregnancy. Your lips feel swollen and you swipe at Mat’s mouth the pad of your thumb to get rid of a smudge of lipstick. Ever the menace, your husband darts his tongue out to lick at your thumb before capturing it with his teeth and sucking at it gently. You press your fingers against his cheek and shake your head against the flood of warmth between your legs, clit twitching. “Stop that, we’re respectable married people now, and we’re in public.”

He lets go of your thumb with a little pop and wipes off his spit for you. “The only respectable thing about us is that we’re married,” he laughs, placing his hand on your lower back and guiding you into Primehouse. To the hostess, who smiles widely at you, clearly recognizing Mat, he says, “is everything all set up?”

You look back at Mat slightly, wondering what exactly he has planned. You’d just booked the private room for dinner with everyone. He just winks at you.

“Yes, sir,” she confirms, nodding. “Everything is ready for your party and you and Mrs. Barzal can head right down to the Reserve Room.”

She gestures down a hallway and you let Mat nudge you along with a press of his knuckles against your lower back. The hostess calls out a ‘congratulations’ as you head off and you turn your head back to smile a thanks at her.

Mat holds open the door to the Reserve Room and you step inside, gasping when you see how he’s had it transformed. The room is covered in the same flower arrangements that decorated your house and there’s a flower wall installed against the back wall, a neon sign spelling out your new last name. Tears flood your eyes and you turn to face Mat, completely speechless.

He smiles softly at you and wraps his hands around your wrists to bring one of your hands to his mouth so he can kiss your palm. Your heart kicks into overdrive and you feel the tears slip down your cheeks. “Like it?” He asks, pulling you to his chest.

You nod against him, tucking your nose against the notch of his collarbone. “You’re the best,” you whisper against his skin. “Seriously, I wasn’t expecting it to be decorated here too.”

“I know,” he strokes his hands up and down your back. You can feel his chest vibrate under yours when he laughs. “I wanted to surprise you with a reception that looks a little more like a reception.”

You didn’t quite realize just how much you wanted a reception until you saw the decorated room and now you can’t stop crying, overwhelmed by Mat’s thoughtfulness and how well he knows you. He keeps rubbing your back, holding you in place, while you cry. You’ll be doing a bigger party over the summer, but something about having the private room decorated means more than all the other planning that’s happening. Especially since it was all Mat’s idea to surprise you.

“Everyone’s going to be here in a bit,” Mat whispers in your ear. “I told them to give us some time, but I think you might want to clean up. Not that I don’t love the raccoon look…” He trails off with a laugh and you give him a watery one in return, swiping underneath your eyes.

“You are the sweetest man alive,” you murmur, leaning up on your toes to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I can’t wait to see you be a dad.”

He waves you off to the bathroom with a wide smile that betrays his nonchalance at your comment and a love tap to the ass.

By the time you come back, all tidied up and ready to party, the rest of your family and friends have arrived and appetizers are making the rounds. You snag a spring roll and accept a hug from Liana.

“Big sis!” She teases, planting a kiss on your cheek. “Finally official. How does it feel to know you’re never getting rid of my brother?”

“Oh, he was already baby trapped,” you deadpan, breaking into a smile when you spot Mat across the room, thumb wrestling Jack for the last pig in a blanket on the tray. Jack wins and you can hear him chirping Mat, your husband laughing delightedly. Your heart squeezes, just a few more months and you’ll get to see Mat with your baby.

“Ugh, god,” Liana groans good-naturedly, “you have such a gooey look on your face. You guys are so gone for each other, it’s literally disgusting.”

You smirk at her, waggling your eyebrows like Mat, and lay it on thick, “he is literally the best man I know. Handsome, smart, funny, and the biggest d-“

Liana smacks her hand over your mouth before you can finish, your laughter cut off by her palm. She narrows her eyes at you, smothering laughter even as she scowls, “do not finish that sentence.”

Your lips curl up into a grin under her hand and your shoulders shake with muffled laughter until Liana releases you with a dirty look. “I’m sorry,” you gasp out, “I couldn’t resist.”

“I’m taking back everything I’ve ever said about how glad I am that you’re my sister,” Liana bumps your hip with hers. “You’re just as bad as he is.”

“They one hundred percent match crazy for crazy,” Emma teases, coming up behind you to loop her arms around your shoulders in a hug. Beau presses a kiss to your cheek and nods his agreement.

“I’ve never met someone who could out-yap Mat, but here we are,” he grins at you.

You lean back against Emma and chew at the inside of your cheek, a thought occurring to you. “Definitely going to bust out the Harley Quinn and Joker costumes for next Halloween,” you tease and pat your stomach. “Bug can be Batman, or Batgirl. But I’m kind of hoping for a little Batman.”

A mini-Mat would be fun, you think. But you waffle back and forth on whether you want a girl or a boy, mostly you’re just praying they’re healthy.

“No one needs another Mat,” Liana shakes her head before getting pulled into a different conversation.

You spend time wandering around and chatting, your mom or Nadia or Mat popping up at your side to make sure you eat and drink enough. You end up with Alice Martin on your lap at one point, eating your steak over her head while she goes to town on a lamb chop. There’s a smudge of sauce on your skirt and your shoes have long been tossed in a corner. You can’t stop smiling.

Mat loses his jacket, his sleeves get rolled up, and he makes a quick toast with Winnie Martin hanging off one arm and Tulsa Horvat dancing around his legs. Jack flicks a few peas off his plate at Reese and she shrieks, ready to start a food fight before Kristy snatches her hand up and pulls her onto her lap, keeping her contained.

It’s loud and it’s chaotic and it’s perfect.

Dessert is served and Mat pulls you onto his lap, one arm wrapped around your waist, palm resting on the side of your stomach. He strokes it lazily, absently, while he talks with your dad and his about the season. You poke at your brownie, uninterested, and look over at Mat’s cheesecake. He’s got his fork in his other hand, gesturing wildly, and you take the risk of taking a bite off his plate with your fork. He doesn’t notice, but Nadia does and she laughs faintly, shooting you a little wink.

Mat finally notices your dessert theft when half the slice is gone and he looks up at you, betrayal written on his face. “Squeaks! You ate my cheesecake?” He knocks your fork out of the way with his.

“What happened to what’s mine is yours?” You defend yourself, pushing your plate towards him in exchange.

“That doesn’t apply to dessert,” Mat retorts, incapable of keeping the serious expression on his face. He leans in and kisses you, in front of all your parents, which still makes your blush even though you’re five months pregnant and you’ve been dating for years. “Taste sweet,” he mumbles against your lips. He tastes a little bit like whisky, even though his last drink had been hours ago.

You shift on his lap, leaning harder against his chest, and let your fingers card through his hair. Mat leans into your touch and returns to his conversation as if the dessert theft hadn’t happened.

The party is slowly winding down now, everyone with kids having left, and you wonder briefly how long Mat reserved the room for.

“Hey,” Mat whispers in your ear, both hands on your stomach now. The baby’s rolling around, hopped up on your excitement and dessert. His thumb rubs against a spot where a tiny foot jabs you. The gold band on his left ring finger glints under the lights and you smile, tracing the tip of your index finger over the metal.

“Hey,” you whisper back.

“Wanna dance with me?” He asks. Mat’s fingers tap lightly at your stomach and the baby reacts, rolling and jabbing. “We never had a first dance.”

“No, we didn’t,” you reply, letting Mat set you on your feet and take your hand. “I don’t even know what song this is.”

The room isn’t really set up for dancing, not that had stopped the kids from finding a corner earlier and rocking out on their own. You’d joined in on the fun briefly too, shimmying until something in your hip had popped slightly painfully.

Mat tucks you up against his chest, holding your hand over his heart. “Me either. But I still think we’re supposed to dance at our wedding. For luck or something,” he jokes, swaying back and forth.

His cheek rests on top of your head and you lean into his warmth, feeling the baby nudge at your stomach. All three of you, together. Not quite the wedding you had pictured back when Mat proposed in June, but it might just be better.

Mat’s free hand roams over your back and you inhale the spicy scent of his cologne, happier than you’ve ever been.

“Or something,” you agree.

[hotvintagepoll]

Donald O'Connor (Singin' in the Rain, Francis, Call Me Madam)— LOOK AT HIM. Those giant blue peepers. Those tappy tappy little feet that don't quit. The ears that stick out like little wings, ready to lift him up to goofy heaven. The way his face contorts into the strangest yet most endearing expressions. His ability to sing and dance alongside the hunk that is Gene Kelly and yet pull all attention away with his big-eyed buffoonery. The way his energy is unmatched in songs like "Make 'em laugh" - bouncing off the walls and tumbling through the air straight into my cold cold heart. Who else but a true scrungly lil guy would sit upon the witness stand and defend a talking mule with all the love and affection in the world - staring out into the court room with his bright wide eyes and eternally mouse-like expression, openly admitting that the mule is his best friend?!??! I see him and I want to pull him from the screen into my hand and just squiiiiiiiiiiiiish with all my might. I want to pinch his cheeks and have him bat those eyes at me. He just makes me go "eeehehehehehe" every time I see him and his silly little self. He is pure chaotic, ridiculous, scrungly perfection!

Mantan Moreland (Mr. Washington Goes to Town, Cabin in the Sky)—i love mantan moreland SO. MUCH. and he is the pERFECT scrungly little guy!!!!! like a lot of black actors at the time he was always getting sidelined into small parts, but unusually he also managed to become a star in his own right and was almost one of the three stooges! he was a groundbreaking comedic actor known for his distinctive stare (very good for the horror movies he did), and he always is way more fun to watch on screen than anyone else. he had a famous double-act where he perfected this technique of non-conversations (where both people keep finishing each other's sentences before any actual information is conveyed). a lot of his movies are free on youtube and i really enjoy seeing him do his silly little guy thing in all of them!!! anyways yeah please include mantan he deserves some recognition as peak scrungle

This is round 3 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you’re confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Donald O'Connor:

My silliest little guy. My funnyman. My horsie. I have watched many a bad movie for this man. The scrungliest fact I know about him is that he was supposed to star as Danny Kaye's role in the iconic White Christmas (1954), as he had known Bing Crosby since he was a child, but couldn't because he caught a mule disease while working on those Francis the Talking Mule films Universal endlessly made him do. I wouldn't exactly recommend those movies, but Don's character getting psychologically tormented by a sardonic mule does make for quite a good movie night, if you know what you're getting into. Are You With It? is another one I don't exactly recommend, but it does open with Donald as a math genius actuary who is about to kill himself over a displaced decimal point before getting taken in by a traveling carny instead. His more well-known and beloved roles have plenty of scrungliness too, in my opinion. This man slapsticked so hard he wound up bedridden for his physical exertion! Rather than submitting Make 'Em Laugh, which the electorate has likely already seen (I hope), I'm submitting an underrated dance number of his, where he explains maths through tap dance. That movie is Not good, but god do I love him in that role.

I think it's arguably very scrungly to seemingly be a real life cartoon character made out of rubber, as proven by how slapsticky the list of scrunglies is so far. In which case, Donald O'Connor? He scrungles supremely. He even played Buster Keaton in a movie (that apparently can't be recommended, but still).

Mantan Moreland:

here's his double act in action!! [editor's note: Benson Fong cameo too!]

He just had a scrungly look about him and he played big with his roles so any of it became especially scrungly. Plus he was very funny in the way only scrungly people can be.

the FUNNEST GUY TO WATCH ON SCREEN. he was an immensely gifted physical comedian, able to convey loads with his eyes, and while some of his parts are so sad and cringeworthy, I feel like he always brought a humanity and humor that lifted them beyond cheap stereotype.

[crescenthistory]

hey queen! i recently just dyed my hair (like very very recently. like the purple dye is sitting in my hair as i type this) but i got to thinking about reader helping barty dye his hair! i think it would be so cute and wholesome bc like imagine:

barty and reader are in a prefect bathroom (props to regulus bc there’s no way he wouldn’t be a prefect) and reader who’s so concentrated on making sure there’s no missing strands of hair while barty is basically making cartoon heart eyes at them and just sighs every once and a while while reader is also yapping about their day. basically a wholesome bonding experience

(also this is my fav sticker reaction to use and i imagine this to be barty during this whole scenario)

hi my love !!! love this purple moment for you, my wife always switches between dying her hair purple, brown and red every few months so i know the process very well lmao<3 i hope it turned out how you wanted mwah

the thing with my barty is that he is very much self-destructive and chaotic, so i've always pictured him doing any form of alterations to his appearance alone by himself with little to no regard for safety. we're talking dying his hair with streaks of acid green in the sink of a small bathroom without gloves, getting some in his fresh piercings that he stupidly did right before he started the dyeing process with safety pins and cheap jewlery despite being able to afford the real deal.

that is until he meets his partner – someone who loves and cares for him with such gentleness and encourages him to do the same without losing who he is. he rebels because his father tried to make him something he wasn't, but you show him that being himself does not have to equate harming himself or being reckless.

so when he gets the urge to dye his hair or get a piercing or be spontaneous, you do it with him. you help him with everything, showing him that company does not lessen the fun in the activity – it might even be better. if you're the kind of person who wants to do the same impulsive acts with him, whether that be stick and poke tattoos or cutting up your clothes, he will of course return the favour happily.

you make sure you get to borrow the prefect bathroom so that there is adequate space to move around without bumping into something or making a mess. you make sure you're both wearing gloves and even put vaseline along his hairline to make sure the dye doesn't stain or irritate his skin. you make sure he doesn't get any water in his eyes when you wash it off. you make sure to discard of the trash safely once you're done.

all the while, he is sat there staring up at you with awe, the realisation that he truly is loved and safe and known striking him deeper with each second that passes, each act of service you manage to squeeze into this one favour. how you caress his cheeks gently, how you make sure not to pull his hair, how you double check with him whether he wants the messy look of patchy dye to add edge or if he wants each strand to be polished and perfect.

and even then, you don't make it into a big deal – it doesn't feel like a special occasion in that way that always quickens his pulse nor does it feel like he owes you something huge for this. it's just you and him, you're telling him about each random thought that plops into your head, recounting previous hair dye experiences or just what your day has been like before this. it feels so natural and so right and barty fucking melts for you.

barty learning soft love while still keeping a sense of who he is. absolutely adore it.

also YES, that sticker is very much lovesick!barty

[sobbingscripter]

Tags: [mlw][mdni][semi-public][idk man, feet? Like, she does some things but not with her dawgs out][handjob][nipple play][standing sex][unprotected sex][blowjob][implied snowballing]

"Why are you mewing?"

"What?"

Your question breaks Kento's reverie, that little bubble in which he is optimally productive and narrowed eyes raise to meet your gaze.

You look like the picture of leisure.

A pen spinning idly on your nimble fingers, your elbow resting on your desk and the plethora of colourful pens you'd stuck in your hair in an attempt to get Kento to smile. You have yet to succeed at that, but you pay it no mind, shifting closer to your desk, the wheels of your chair scuff against the linoleum floors and you rest both elbows on your desk.

"Mewing." You repeat. "The model thing?"

You elaborate vaguely and you watch as those thin, blonde brows crease into a frown, upper lip curling in distaste at the fact that you keep teaching him urban slang without his consent.

"I don't need to mew."

Kento dismisses, slender fingers moving through his sandy blonde strands, not even tousling them in an unattractive way, and you let out a whistle.

"Not you flexing your face card." You tease and you feel a sick sense of fulfillment when he lets out that heavy sigh, removing his freaky glasses and pinching the bridge of his perfect (and rideable) nose.

"I hate that I know what those words mean." Kento complains, before tugging on his tie, loosening the knot up just a bit.

"You look tired." You hum softly. "Your eyebags are heavier than usual. Overtime?"

"Another Curse." He responds lazily, slumping the tiniest bit against the back of his chair and Kento lets out a heavy groan.

"I want to quit."

The words aren't unusual when it's Kento. He's a man who loves complaining about things, and you're already fishing in your bag for your second lunch box, sliding it across the surface of your desks. He takes it, without hesitance, opening it up and picking up the sandwich, raising it to his mouth to take a generous bite.

Mayonnaise rests at the corners of his mouth but you don't hesitate to lean over, wiping away the messes with your thumb.

And Kento's lips quirk into a smile at the action.

'Wife' isn't a term everyone gives to anybody, and 'friend' isn't a term he'd give anybody.

But you somehow manage to be both. Except wife, but you're a variant: his workwife.

You behave just like a wife would. Greeting him with a coffee every morning, despite the fact that he gets his own on his way to work but always orders an extra small so that he can see the smile on your face when you slide that '#1 Husband' cup across his desk.

You listen to him complain, occasionally straighten his tie that he's left intentionally crooked just to feel the brushes of your fingertips against his skin.

And it's the little quirks.

When you work hard, you're so focused. Everytime he passes by your desk on his way to the bathroom, he sticks one of your colourful pens into your hair and it's gotten to the point where Kento just goes to the bathroom, because he wants to see the way your face tugs with confusion whenever you redo that bun and your stationery clatters to the floor.

You pack him in lunches, you talk to him all the time despite the fact that sometimes, he'd like to hear you talk with your mouth full.

Kento remembers important dates, like your birthday, your parents' anniversary, the day you found whatever stray you managed to find a home for and your doctor's appointments (which he schedules for you).

He buys little trinkets, small baubles that remind him of you and you do the same. Kento's desk has a little ornamental seashell that you gave him when you visited the beach in your hometown. Your desk has a little ornamental Big Ben replica from Kento's trip to London to get rid of a Curse.

"Kento?" Your voice brings him back, but so does the sight of your manicured fingers, snapping in front of his face. "Ken? You okay?"

Ken.

Ken.

Ken.

The sound of your voice calling him that, so soft and so sweet, makes it even harder to conceal the large bulge in the front of his slacks and Kento clears his throat.

"Hm? Yes, I'm fine. Just thinking."

You know better than to ask, so instead, you do what you always do. Your kitten heel bumps against Kento's dress shoe, in a small act of almost childish affection and Kento's tuts you.

"You shouldn't be wearing heels for too long."

A muscular hand grasps your ankle, carefully undoing the buckle and he slides your heel off. One foot at a time, and he rests your one foot in his lap, while absentmindedly massaging the arch, his thumbs enjoying the feel of the pantyhose against his finger pads.

"You know, I have no idea how you're not married or at least, seeing someone." You state, your toes curling with each press of Kento's thumb to your foot, easing aches you didn't even know were there.

"No woman would be okay with the fact that her partners goes to work and massages another woman's feet." Kento hums, eyes lowered to your feet as he presses, the sight of your manicured toes shielded by semi-transparent hosiery isn't something he thought he needed to see.

But God, was he wrong.

He likes that your toenails are the prettiest shade of nude, so lovely with your complexion. Manicured, trimmed, filed, perfect.

"Then maybe don't massage my feet?" You suggest, resting your chin in the palm of your hand as you watch Kento with a bored, almost lovey stare.

He's a gorgeous man.

Small, hazel eyes, thin eyebrows (they're natural, you asked), perfect hair and a perfect body. But you're not too focused on his body when it comes to his jaw.

A jawline so sharp it could cut glossy wrapping paper without a single fault.

"No." Kento's voice brings you to the forefront of your mind and you let out a laugh, lowering your feet from his lap and setting them on the lush carpet beneath your feet. And you lean over, cradling Kento's face in your hands and you don't miss the way his expression softens the tiniest bit.

Brows relaxing, jaw unclenching and you brush your thumbs across his cheekbones.

"You're too perfect for this world."

Kento's barely even there, working on documents like he's on autopilot, muscular hands scribbling details into blocks and he occasionally pauses to push up his goggles. And you can't help it.

Brushing your foot up his calf, and.... Nothing.

Light work, no reaction.

Your foot shifts, trailing up Kento's thigh and only when your foot reaches where you assume the leg of his boxers would end, do his eyes lift to meet your stare.

"Yes, wife?" He hums and you feel that tingle in your stomach. He calls you that like it's your name and it makes your ears itch in only a way your ankles can scratch.

"No, nothing." You shake your head. "Just wanted to see you get nervous."

"Won't work, try harder."

Kento's eyes lower back to the stack of paper in front of him, a new challenge being brought to the front of your braincell and you act boldly.

Placing your foot right over his bulge.

His really hard, really big bulge. And you swallow, eyes widening and Kento doesn't even glance up at you.

"Didn't think it through, did you?" He teases and you shake your head. "I did not."

But when you move to move away your foot, Kento's hand grasps your ankle in a pretty firm grip, and his free hand just continues to page through the stack.

And he keeps your foot there.

"Finish what you started."

The closet is stuffy, the fluorescent light is intense and it makes sweat accumulate on the back of your neck, droplets dribbling down into the collar of your shirt but you don't notice it.

Of course you don't. Not when Kento's tongue is in your mouth, his hands resting on your waist, thumbs brushing against the curve of the underside of your breasts and his cock, fucking into your hand at the slowest, most painstaking pace.

Kento's big.

Long, thick, with the prettiest little tuft of hair just above his base. He's a neat man, but he's a messy man, beads of precum sliding down his shaft, wetting your palm and making the most obscene sound that echoes in the quietness of the supply closet.

Boxes and boxes surround you. Standard office supplies, sticky notes in every colour, boxes of highlighters and gel pens adjusted to be comfortable for the grip of an office worker. Japan really is ahead of it's time when it comes to stationery, but the thought leaves your mind when Kento kisses your neck.

He's gentle, and slow, but his hands make light work of your blouse, lowering his head to press a kiss to that delicate little 'v' between your clavicles and he shudders out a breath.

"Your hands feel so good...."

Kento breathes out, his thumbs brushing over your nipples until they form stiff peaks, painfully hard and just... Begging for attention from his soft, warm tongue.

"But you take such good care of your hands." He adds softly, pressing kisses along the swell of your breasts, soft tits to adorn with kisses and gentle lovebites that'll leave bruises for only your eyes.

And hopefully his.

"I like your manicure." Kento sighs quietly. "Is that with the money of our bet?"

You only nod your head. You're not able to do much when his warm fingertips are tugging so teasingly on your nipples, your head tipping back against a shelf and you let out a panted breath.

Your hand strokes him just a bit faster, your wrist having the slightest bit of torsion as you work his already weepy cock, squeezing your hand the tiniest bit tighter when you get to the tip.

The flushed, pink and rosy tip, crying thick beads of precum, twitching with each movement you make.

You're barely focused on the pens that clatter out of your hair, tumbling to the floor when Kento lifts you from the cool tiles, guiding your legs to wrap around his narrow waist.

A hole is easy to rip into your nylons, and you're pulling your panties to the side with hazy eyes and a fuzzy brain, and your body turns to a flurry of static when he slides into you.

You're so warm.

So wet and so so tight, Kento buries his face in your neck as he shifts you in his arms. He's so happy you're not wearing that pencil skirt, instead, he gets to watch the fluttering mauve fabric of your skirt slide down your thighs and rest at the crease of your hips, while his forearms hook beneath your knees.

Kento fucks into you like a man with all the time in the world. Cock dragging against your gummy insides, nudging at your cervix with the cutest, lingering pecks. All as Kento's lips find purchase around one of your taut nipples, suckling and dragging his tongue along the bud.

Your nerves are tingling.

Your fingers card through his hair, nails digging into the back of his neck and Kento's warm breaths brush across your skin, doing nothing to ease the goosebumps that spatter across your flesh. And you whine, a low sound that echoes through the room and your hips roll to meet each of Kento's thrusts.

And a low groan leaves his lips, shifting you a bit more and he begins to move you. Up... Down... Up... Down...

The repetitive motion and the delightful tingle that makes your toes curl in your heels, the scratch of his fuzzy pubic bone brushing against your clit is one of the leading sensations that make your brain glitch.

"You're tighter than I imagined."

Kento breathes out, peeking up at you from between your breasts, and that's... That's what gets you.

Fluttering walls spasm around Kento's cock, trickling liquids dribbling down his cock as your hips buck and twitch. He kisses you.

Deep and long, like his strokes, and Kento's tongue drags against the roof of your mouth. He drinks your moans like sweet nectar, swallowing each breath and sound like they're heaven themself.

You're on your knees in front of Kento before you know.

You can see he's close. The way he twitches, flushed crown dripping onto your tongue before your lips wrap around his tip, your hands following in suit. Your thighs are still shaking when you're sucking his cock, hands stroking him in tandem.

Clockwise, anticlockwise, up and down.

You feel Kento's fingers carding through your hair, keeping your head in place as he grips the shelf above him with such desperation that you can hear the wood splinter.

Kento's hips stutter when he comes.

Shooting warm pulses of cum into your warm, wet mouth, painting your tongue in that pretty pearlescent fluid that tastes distinctly like.... Cinnamon and pineapple.

"Don't swallow." Kento whispers softly, guiding you to your feet and his body presses against yours, his hand coming to cup your cheek while the other rests on the curve of your hip.

"Spit it back in my mouth, wife."

[tomlivingspace]

Tbh in cannon that " Dw Ivy I'll stay in the den for you <3 " always rang as a blatant attempt at getting Ivy to have kits with him.

I Hc that because Ivy never really wanted the kits and Fern was never going to actually step up as a father beyond claiming them as his, the kits just kinda... never knew their parents? Ivy was always out and only really stopped to feed them, and Fern was sweet to them, but always made excuses on why he couldn't stick around to play or nap.

And I imagine Ivy would get more flack from the clan than Fern bc " Oh silly Ivypool! You know men don't do that stuff! But it's in your nature to care for them! Don't you love them? " and Ivy realizes that no. She doesn't love her kits, at all.

Idk, I feel like Ivy never really fit in with clan structure to begin with and after the df thing she tries to mold herself into a better ( more forgivable ) warrior, which meant taking and mate and having kits ( conforming to expectations )

Idk, just an interesting thought.

SO THIS IS ONLY KIND OF TANGENTIALLY RELATED I GUESS it just made me think about sparkpelt's ppd and how she might reach out to ivypool just because ivypool DIDNT spend her kittens' entire kithood in the nursery . but she has a paranoia that she's still "evil" deep down. so she over-corrects not realizing that sparkpelt is attempting to reach out. but that sort of thing is also a kind of defense mechanism to keep anyone from getting too close. i think thats a big reason why her relationship with dovewing never improves too.