#i’ll show the haul once i’m back home later!

[destiny-in-the-universe]

I’m doing a proper haul later!

I just got four new books — and I’m so excited for them? I’m not home right now, which means I won’t fully be around for a little while! I’ve been hyped for that book since I first learned of its release (the only hint I’m giving iykyk).

Also, aha… I’m debating a new name because of recent kins and other stuff — it’s a little awkward to talk about, but I might be going by that name soon? If… people would be alright with that-

[warping-realities]

Where Would You Rather Be? (Redux)

A collaboration with the amazing @johnbrand

“You know I love you, right?” Malcolm reaffirmed to his boyfriend. “And I’m here for you, babe.”

It had been a hell of a week for Shane. He had been living in the city for almost ten years now, moving there for college and then sticking around after graduation. It was a scary transition, but thanks to the quick friends he made, the ride was a bit easier. One of them, Shane’s freshman roommate—who he had lived with and then kept close since they met—got an eviction notice the week before. Shane had been as supportive as he could through the whole mess, but watching his buddy pack up and leave was a real kick in the gut. His friend would now be living hours away, no longer right next door.

Shane nodded his head, followed by a quick “Thanks, babe.”

“I’m happy to be the shoulder you can cry on, I know this sucks” Malcolm sympathized. “Still wanna grab dinner tonight? We can bail on the plans if you need some time.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine,” Shane said with a slight smile. “Plus, it’s our third anniversary—you’ve done more than your fair share, and I’m super grateful for that.”

Malcolm chuckled, quickly snatching Shane from behind. “Then maybe you’ll have to show some gratitude later tonight.”

Rolling his eyes, Shane still returned the passionate kiss from his boyfriend.

That night, he found himself back in his own home. After climbing a few flights of stairs, he was surprised to find his buddy’s old apartment door wide open. Curious, Shane peeked in, and without thinking twice, he stepped into the familiar space, now filled with unknown furniture, boxes, and other random junk scattered around.

Before he could snoop around, a voice from behind barked at him to move aside. “Get outta the way, bro!”

The rich baritone caught Shane so off guard that he jumped a bit, scurrying as a big dude stomped through the doorway before dropping a few boxes. At least six feet tall, the buff, masculine intruder immediately intimidated Shane. Shirtless, barefoot, and rocking some tiny shorts that could easily be mistaken for underwear. Probably due to the effort of hauling all those boxes, the muscular man gave off a strong, manly odor that quickly overwhelmed Shane’s senses. In fact, all of his senses, although he didn’t really realize it. The stranger smiled cockily, sizing Shane up with eyes glinting with mischief before speaking.

“Mind being useful and helping me organize the rest of my stuff?” the man asked. Shane, a bit freaked out by the pure masculinity in front of him, didn’t say a word. The guy didn’t need his response, though, knowing Shane would help him out no matter what. Shane couldn’t explain what came over him; his mouth was just hanging open while cardboard boxes were dumped into his waiting arms.

In minutes, he was soaked in sweat, having to peel off layer after layer of clothing as he helped the stranger organize the apartment. His mind screamed at the absurdity of the situation, yet he kept doing what the man asked him to do like a robot. After an hour of relentless work, the guy, noticing Shane’s drenched clothes, pulled out a change of clothes from one of the boxes still piled in a corner.

“Put these on, thank goodness I wear extra-large, bro, so they should fit your chubby ass!” he said, flexing his muscles and releasing another wave of that masculine musk from his armpits.

Drowsy Shane picked up the clearly unwashed tank top and gym shorts, reeking of that same animal musk but concentrated from days of use. That scent almost made him hurl.

“What are you waiting for, man? Put these on already. We still got work to do.”

Once again, not understanding why, Shane felt compelled to obey, stripping down in front of his new neighbor until he was left only in his underwear. He was already putting on his shorts when the man interrupted him.

“No, man, you gotta let the jewels breathe. Not that they take up much space, from what I can see, but there’s no reason to squeeze the poor things,” he quipped, bursting into laughter, and Shane, even without getting the joke, found himself laughing along. When he was finally dressed in the provided clothes, completely engulfed by the animalistic smell, the man approached him with a grin.

“Back to work, man, a little more exercise and maybe you’ll fill out those clothes just right,” he said with a smirk. Shane just nodded and kept working.

Before he knew it, another two hours had flown by, and the apartment now had a minimally organized look, unlike the previous chaos. The night fully enveloped the dimly lit room.

“Martin,” the mysterious man finally offered his name, alongside a giant meaty hand that crushed Shane’s. “Are you my new neighbor?”

“Uh... yeah,” Shane finally spoke, pointing to the wall their apartments would share.

“Cool, bro,” Martin replied. “Wanna chill on the balcony with me for a bit?”

Shane checked his watch, noting that there was still some time before he had to get ready for his dinner date. “Sure.” Following the muscular alpha outside, Shane took a seat on the wicker couch while waiting for Martin. He did his best to plan out the remaining time he had. Not realizing that the tight outfit now seemed to hang off his body, which in the last few hours had shed a good amount of fat while gaining a little muscle, revealing a face that was somewhere between cute and handsome.

“Sit over there,” Martin directed as he stepped onto the balcony. Shane didn’t think twice about getting up and moving aside so Martin could sit on the couch. It wasn’t until he moved to the other side of the coffee table that Shane realized Martin wanted him to sit on the deck.

“That’s right, faggot. Sit in front of my feet,” Martin said, the friendly smile fading from his face as he propped his giant, smelly feet up on the table.

Shane was shocked, offended by his neighbor’s sudden bigotry. The lame joke about the size of his dick was one thing, but this vocabulary was degrading and... the smell of a full day’s work was coming off those giant boards Martin called feet. And Shane train of thought completely derailed. So he did as he was told, taking his seat in front of the two massive soles placed before him. Somewhat exasperated by the incomprehensible actions he had taken up until that point and anxious not to miss his meeting with his boyfriend, Shane shifted uncomfortably in the awkward spot, to the point that Martin himself noticed.

“You got any plans tonight, fag?” Martin questioned.

In a flustered, embarrassed, and strangely lustful state, Shane answered, “Yeah, I have an anniversary dinner with my boyfriend.”

Martin snickered. “And when is that?”

“I should start getting ready in 10 minutes,” Shane’s response was robotic. “I’ve gotta shower, get dressed, wrap my present, and then travel.”

Martin mulled this over for a bit, relishing the fact that Shane would wait for his next prompt. He was completely overtaken by the scent that wafted from the other man. Martin’s natural musk and body odor held an authority over him like nothing else ever had.

“Let me make you a deal, faggot,” Martin finally said. “You can bounce now, get ready, and have a great night with your loving boyfriend. Or you can stay seated right where you are, at the feet of a straight man, waiting for my next command and finally discover what it’s like to be a real man!”

Shane didn’t reply, shocked by what Martin was insinuating. With casual indifference, Martin wiggled his toes in front of Shane, knowing the silence was already his answer. But in true alpha fashion, Martin made sure to hammer his superiority home.

“Where would you rather be, faggot?” he asked, with his feet releasing another wave of potent funk towards an already completely subdued prey.

They stayed there without saying a word: Martin laid-back, comfortable, and minding his own business, and Shane at his feet. Neither got up as time ticked by. In his head, Shane’s plans slowly morphed. He didn’t need to wrap Malcolm’s present, he didn’t need to shower, he didn’t even need to change. Eventually, the anniversary dinner came and went, and Shane was still at the feet of the straight man.

“Well, now that you’ve made your choice I gotta keep my promise, right, sissy boy? But to be my bro, you gotta become a real man, don’t you, Shotgun?”

“My name is…”

“Shut up, sissy boy. You’ll be able to talk when you’re a man and have a place to sit by my side, not at my feet!”

Imbued by Martin’s potent scent and words of dominance, Shane fell silent.

“I don’t give a damn what you were known for, Shotgun,” Martin retorted, making the smaller man shiver at the sound of that nickname. “I don’t care about your art degree or the lame job you do or the degenerate things you do with your fag boyfriend. And that doesn’t matter to you either, Shotgun, because it’s not real, but what I’m gonna tell you now is that it is real, and your jelly brain is gonna do its best to make it happen.” The man concluded, lifting both arms and releasing the most powerful wave of musk yet, taking Shane... or Shotgun?... what kind of name is that? That didn’t matter, only the wave of nauseating smell that invaded him.

“Take it like a man, Shotgun,” Martin ordered, and he obeyed. “What you’re gonna do is very simple, I want you to think about all the jocks who humiliated you in school, the fraternity brothers who often give each other nicknames just like yours, Shotgun, which you certainly mocked but deep down envied. I want you to think about all the real men you and your faggot friends called toxic behind their backs without having the guts to face them. I want you to picture yourself as one of them, with all the stereotypes of white cis straight men, yada yada yada bullshit that your liberal faggot mind has stored. I want you to take all their traits and slap them on yourself. Habits, behavior, conduct, appearance, desires, thoughts, everything! Yeah, everything you think about guys like me applied to you. When you’re done, Shotgun, then we’ll talk man to man, and only then I’ll wanna know more about my new bro. A bro who scored this awesome apartment for a fellow frat brother moving across the country as soon as he heard someone just like him was moving here, just for the spirit of brotherhood that exists between real men that your old self would never have been able to grasp! Do it now!

The wave of nausea hit its peak; Shane felt the vomit rising in his throat but held it back, swallowing it down again, while another sensation took over his head, a feeling of being invaded and violated, his mind dominated by a relentless buzz, his vision flooded with a myriad of colors, while his whole body itched as if a million ants were crawling over him. The whole situation was overwhelming. And it got worse when his memories and recollections started to twist and reform, everything he was being tangled up in a whirlwind of misinformation. He found himself facing several traumatic situations from his life, but in reverse roles; the bullying he suffered turning into the bullying he practiced, the sports activities observed from afar being felt and lived, the toxic behavior going from being judged to being experienced and appreciated. And with that, new memories surfacing, time in the gym sculpting his body to perfection, nights of sex with various women whose names he didn’t even remember, his work at the art gallery replaced by a finance job earned not through talent but through connections made via his fraternity brothers. At last the image of Malcolm, the great love of his life, being erased. In an internal scream of despair, he tried to cling to that safe harbor, but that ship had already sailed to new waters, taking with it his humility, knowledge, empathy, and kindness. Leaving only inflated self-confidence, privilege, and respect only for those he considers equal or superior.

As the night wore on and Shane’s inner turmoil reached its peak, his exterior was undergoing its own transformation. His muscles were going into overdrive. They just kept contracting and expanding. Over and over. Lost in jumbled thoughts, he couldn’t feel his bones stretching longer. But each one was stretching out to its new length, growing denser to support his new weight. His average build quickly disappeared as muscle packed onto his recent lean frame. Little by little, he felt constricted by Martin’s clothing. The shirt pulled at his chest and shoulders while the shorts barely contained his thick, muscular ass, with his thighs growing like tree trunks, stretching the fabric to its limit. His shoulders broadened, turning into large round orbs jutting from his sides. Two mighty pecs pushed a bit in front of him while a firm set of abs grew more defined right underneath. His biceps bulged out of his arms while his forearms widened to support the new strength building within him. Amid the chaos of conflicting memories, his average-sized dick, the butt of Martin’s jokes, quickly grew to new heights. What had been his maximum hard was now his flaccid member. His calves grew to the size of most men thighs. Meanwhile, his feet grew well beyond the previous size 8, increasing to the point of competing with Martin’s stinky paws, which had to be at least size 13. The changes also hit his face, which took on a more squared-off, rugged look, with his button nose growing and turning into an aquiline nose that could’ve easily been broken in a fight, which only reinforced the raw masculinity taking over from his previous cuteness.

Finally, a smile formed on his chiseled face, oozing confidence and displaying his internal arrogance for all to see.

Seeing that smile appear, Martin knew his work was nearly done. And when that new Shane let out a fart and a burp, he knew it was all over. Feeling that new putrid smell mix with his own musk, he turned to the other man.

“Damn, Shotgun, you’re rank!”

“I didn’t get the name Shotgun Shane for nothing, man; it was for the shots I could take back in college, but I almost got called Stinkbomb for what I let out. Now, if you’re gonna complain about the smell, you better get those damn feet outta my face!” Shane shot back, his arrogant smile widening. This made Martin lift his feet off Shane’s face while cracking up.

“I knew we’d be best bros the moment we met, Shotgun,” he said, admiring the result of his handiwork.

“Me too, bro; way better having you as a neighbor than that faggot who lived here before.”

“If you compare me to some queer again, I’m gonna mess you up.”

“You can try!” Shane replied, flexing one of his powerful arms before continuing. “But you’re right, there’s no comparison, dude. To make it up to you, how about I take you to check out the hottest club in town? Celebrate the move by picking up some chicks?”

“Now you’re speaking my language, bro!”

….

Martin hated waiting on others, even though he himself had no problem showing up late. Apparently, Shane inherited that same trait during his transformation. The other man had gone home, took forever in the shower, and then posted some pretty provocative videos on his social media. The first one showed off his well-developed muscles while he seductively invited all the girls interested in him to meet him and his best bro at a city club.

In the second video, he just slid the camera down, revealing the huge package he had stuck in his underwear. All of this under the suggestive caption, “You really gonna miss this?”

Martin was super stoked with the results of his actions. Moving to a new city was tricky, but having a bro made it a whole lot easier, no matter that bro had been crafted by him. Still, he wondered if he hadn’t put too much of himself into the other man while he waited for him with a frown and his arms crossed. After a reasonable amount of waiting, he saw the gigantic figure strutting toward him down the first-floor corridor and was sure he had indeed put too much of himself into the other man, which could lead to some friction in the future when they had to sort out their power dynamics, but at that moment, that didn’t matter; he just wanted to have a good time, and there wouldn’t be better company than someone who was practically him in another body.

That became even clearer when Shane stopped in front of his irritated face and flexed his muscles playfully.

“What’s with the ugly mug, dude? You wanna throw down?”

“The ugly mug is because you took your sweet time, Shotgun! And you can joke all you want, but you can’t compete with this,” he replied, flexing one of his powerful arms. “Now let’s go after some hot chicks, or what?”

….

Malcolm didn’t quite know why he was in that dump of bigotry and toxicity. He just felt like something was missing and couldn’t quite put his finger on what. His trip to the place was the result of an Instagram video where one of the typical patrons invited all the interested bitches to come on down. Malcolm didn’t consider himself a bitch and usually would’ve laughed if someone said he might be into a dude like that, yet here he was. Knowing he had no chance of getting close to that man radiating toxicity. But only when he saw that self-proclaimed Shotgun Shane chatting up a hot young woman did something stir within him, a memory of a passionate kiss shared just that morning.

“S-Shane…?” he murmured, though he didn’t know exactly who this man was, he felt something deeply wrong was going on. While he stood there, dumbfounded, the man made his move and kissed the woman, which made him decide to leave the place as he was hit by another wave of strangeness and sadness mixed together.

However, he wasn’t the only one watching the scene; on the other side of the club, Martin saw his supposed wingman score before he did.

“Damn, I really put too much of myself in that dude,” he muttered as he weaved through the crowd. That’s when he saw Malcolm hurrying along with a look of confusion.

Well, if his wingman bailed on him, he could just make another one, right? It’s not like there was a shortage of material to work with, as that other faggot’s presence left abundantly clear. He just needed to be a bit more careful not to overdo it again, although he didn’t really have that refined of a control over the final result, and the most likely outcome would be ending up with another bro exactly like him. But he didn’t care that much; to him, there wouldn’t be better company than his own, and if someone asked him where and with whom he rather be, the answer would always be the same, he thought, smiling as he approached his future bro.

[amostimprobabledream]

Animal Attraction (Grimmjow x Reader)

Also available on Ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/60500386

Good lord, how you hated office parties.

But here you were, in itchy tights, shoes that were hurting your feet, and glitter on your face. You’d worn the shoes because they matched the dress and the tights because you were paranoid that the dress might be too short – you hadn’t had time to try it on when you bought it in a blind panic, and exposing the lower half of your butt cheeks to your boss would be a huge error on your part. …Or possibly lead to a promotion, depending on his proclivities. But not a risk you’re willing to run.

You’re now at the point where the festivities have drained you of your social battery and the artificial good cheer is grating on your nerves. All you want to do is go home, get comfortable and fling your bra off.

“Hey, so, I think I’m gonna…” you say to Chie, someone you’ve always gotten along with.

“Whaaat? You’re not leaving already, are you?” Chie asks, widening her big doe eyes – you roll yours playfully in response, you’ve put off leaving once already because she pulled out that weapon, but it won’t work on you twice.

“Yeah, I’m done. I can only take so much of this goddamn music.” You laugh, knocking back the last of your drink. Hey, at least those were free. “I’ll message when I get home, okay?”

Chie gives a comedic pout of defeat, the flashing lights shining on her lipgloss, and she holds out her arms.

“Fiiine, better not forget!”

You shake your head as you give her a hug – she’s the one who usually forget to text, not you, but you can’t be bothered to raise that point now, her expensive Jimmy Choo perfume enveloping you – you keep meaning to ask her which specific perfume it is-

“Aww, no hugs for me?”

Fuck.

You stiffen in annoyance as you release Chie – Keiji is another co-worker of yours and since he “broke up” with his ex, he’s been hovering around you and some of the other women in the office like a wasp at a picnic.

“Uh-“ you say, trying to think of a way to tell him to fuck off in a manner that won’t get you hauled straight down to HR. But you’re a little drink and your brain is working without all cylinders firing, so before you can do much else, Kenji is hugging you as well and you grunt in displeasure – did he fucking bathe in his cheap-ass aftershave?

“So, I’ll see you later!” you say to Chie, accidentally-on-purpose jamming the heel of your heeled boot down onto Kenji’s big toe and he grunts and loosens his grip and you slither away from him like an eel.

“Prick.” You snarl under your breath as you stomp towards the lobby, nearly making it outside before you have to double back for your coat.

The night air knocks you for a loop and for a second the whole world seems to waver before your eyes. You stand there for a second, waiting for your body to adjust to the sudden change, head tilted up at the sky, a dark blue studded with distant stars and the misty halo of the moon, when out of the corner of your eye you spot something that makes the breath catch in your throat.

A figure leans against the building across the road from you, arms folded, staring you down with eyes so blue they almost seem to glow in the dim.

“Gri- what- how did you know I’d be here?” you splutter intelligently, staring at him.

He sneers and pushes off the wall, stalking up to you with his hands deep in the pocket of his jacket, his shadow falling across your frame.

“Che. You think you’re hard to find?” he asks, an arrogant tilt to his head as he looks down at you. “I’d know your scent anywhere.”

His eyes slide up and down your frame and a leer pulls at his lips, his eyes narrowing a fraction. You belatedly realise you forgot to do up your coat, in such a rush to escape Kenji and his grasping arms you’d stumbled outside with it clumsily pulled on, so your sparkly little party dress that’s showing plenty of boob is on clear display.

“Nice.” Is Grimmjow’s concise assessment of your outfit as he takes another step close to you, and you’re rooted to the spot as you gaze up at him. “Easy access.”

Your mouth falls open at his words – you should be used to his audacity by now but he still manages to find ways to surprise you - but before indignation has a chance to formulate a biting retort, he’s pulling you in impatiently, a hand wrapped around the back of your neck, and the next thing you know, his mouth is on yours, searing hot in the cold outdoors.

You can’t prevent the little moan that leaves you – rough and brutal he may be, but damn does he know how to use that mouth.

Grimmjow isn’t content with only kissing your lips either – whenever he tracked you down like this, he’d always leave you flushed and covered in marks, bites and hickeys all over your neck and collarbones, finger marks on your wrists and thighs, handprints littering your ass…you always looked like you’ve been ravished by a wild beast by the time he’s done with you.

Which, to be honest, isn’t exactly wrong…

Suddenly, though, Grimmjow pauses in his important task of marking you up, his face inches away from your throat, and nervousness swirls through your bloodstream.

“Um, Grimmjow?”

He doesn’t answer, instead he grabs your head to hold you still and breathes in deeply. His scowl deepens.

“Wha-at?” you say in a slight whine, his expression scaring you slightly. When he goes quiet, it tends to mean things have gotten serious.

“You stink.” Grimmjow responds bluntly, still nosing at your neck. “You don’t smell like you. You smell like…”

His lips pull back from his teeth in a snarl and your stomach lurches – something about how inhuman he looks with that bone fragment on his cheek sends a primal warning signal in your brain urging you to flee, even if you know you’d only get as far as he allowed you to. He does so love the thrill of the hunt.

Fuck.

“It’s – some guy just hugged me out of nowhere before I left, I didn’t-“ you babble immediately, even though you know you didn’t do anything wrong and you don’t have to explain yourself, but the silence is deafening and you find yourself talking just to fill it.

Grimmjow is hardly mollified by your rambling and in a blur, suddenly the darkness of a nearby alleyway engulfs you. Your back meets hard brick and he’d holding you up off the ground with ease by your hips, your entire body weight meaning nothing to him.

“Yeah?” he growls.

He seems personally offended and sets about correcting your little faux pas right then and there. His teeth sink into the tender flesh of your throat, making you cry out, the noise loud in the cool darkness. Grimmjow grins with approval as he spots the little dots of blood welling in the indents of his fangs.

“Fuck, that hurt!” you complain, smacking his chest with the back of your hand, which has all the effect of smacking a wall.

“Good.” He says, licking at the blood with an exaggerated flick of his tongue, holding eye contact with you as he does it, and you feel your face turn hot, well acquainted with exactly what that tongue can do.

“You fucking- mmm~“

Your words are drowned out by more kissing – all your lipstick and gloss will be gone by the time he’s done, Grimmjow tends to treat any flavouring you put on your lips as a topping to his favourite dessert.

Grimmjow leans forward and uses his mouth to tug your bra down, your tits pushed out in front of his face, and he wastes no time in lapping at them, nipping at the sensitive undersides of your breasts, apparently determined to leave as much markings as he possibly can over as much of your flesh as he can reach. His wicked tongue circles your nipples, teasing them until you're pulling on his wild mane of blue hair. He chuffs in approval at the sting in his scalp, leering up at you. He likes it rough when you fuck, even though there’s not much you can do to hurt him.

"Someone's impatient." he drawls, quirking an eyebrow.

"Stop teasing me." you complain, squirming against him, though you’re going nowhere and his fingers. "If you're going to do something, then do it!"

"Brat." he hisses at you, and he pulls you against him with one strong arm around your waist, cradling your body to him like a ragdoll, and lands a sharp smack to your ass that makes you yelp. He likes the sound so much that he does it again on the other cheek, laughing when your whole body jolts.

He likes it when you're a brat, though, because he still does as you requested, his tongue circling your sensitive nipples, sending little sparks of pleasure through you, though like with most things he does, he’s just a little too rough, leaving them throbbing before he pulls his mouth away to focus his attention on the other breast. He leaves little sharp nips to your flesh too, enjoying the soft squeaks it drives from your mouth – you’re so intoxicatingly sensitive, he’d play with your tits all day long if he could.

“Grimmjow, mm…” you hiss, and he smirks as a new scent reaches his nose – he knows your body so well he can smell it when you’re aroused, like a shark can scent blood from miles away. A sense of prideful satisfaction courses through him at how quickly he was able to make you wet, from something so simple, so easy as to just give your pretty tits some attention.

Of course, much as he loves them, they’re not the main thing he’s after.

He's hard already, his length straining against his fly, and he grins and slowly unzips with one hand, giving you a little show as your eyes follow the smooth movement of his hand, a sliver of his black boxers visible, before they’re pulled down too. Your stomach does a little flip as he palms his cock, a smug grin on his face.

“Like what you see, don’t you?” he says, amused. “Look what your slutty little dress has done to me.”

“It’s not slutty, it’s fun!” you protest, mortified he thinks you purposefully wore a slutty dress to a work event, though he isn’t exactly a good measuring stick for that - Grimmjow tends to find any clothing of yours that shows off your flesh to be provocative – you once wore a pair of shorts, not even hotpants or Daisy dukes, just a cute little cotton pair you have for the summer, and innocently walked past him and he responded by pouncing on you and fucking you until you could barely walk, let alone leave the house in them.

“Oh yeah? Then let’s have fun.” He leers at you and you have to admit you walked right into that one.

Azure eyes flick up and down your attire for a second, assessing the situation, before he simply grabs your tights and wrenches them apart, the sound of fabric tearing loud in the quiet and revealing your bare legs to the cold as you gasp in surprise. He tugs your panties impatiently aside, his fingers brushing up against your soaked core, teasing at your clit with a sinister smirk.

"Grimmjow, no, not here-!" you whine in protest, and he laughs cruelly.

"Yes, here," he replied, relishing in your embarrassment, adjusting your position and nudging his way between your legs, letting you sink onto the blunt head of his cock, and you groan as he lets you feel every inch of it bullying its way into your soaked cunt. "Unless you'd prefer I take you inside and fuck you in front of everyone?"

Your eyes fly open with fear, because you know it's no empty threat- Grimmjow cares nothing for social conventions, especially not the ridiculous confining rules humans go by. No doubt he'd love to bend you over in front of all your colleagues and make it very clear you were not on the dating market. You getting fired wouldn't be of much concern to him either - he'd see it as a win, getting to keep you all to himself and fuck you at his leisure.

"No, no, don't even think about it-!" you hiss at him, but you can't bite back the groan of pleasure as his hard cock brushes up against your sweetspot, feeling almost burning hot inside you with the cold air nipping at your thighs.

"Then shut up and take it like a good girl."

Not that he gives you much of a choice in the matter, but Grimmjow likes to watch you turn into a needy, whining, moaning mess beneath him, so he's never been stingy with your pleasure. He watches with rapt attention as he lifts you up and down off his cock like you're nothing more than his little personal fucktoy, his to move and manhandle as he sees fit. And yet, it feels so fucking good, to surrender yourself to the base pleasures after spending all day performing for other people.

He crushes his chest to yours, pinning you against the alleyway wall like a butterfly to a board, and your legs wrap around his waist without any further prompting, the heels of your boots kicking weakly against the leather of his jacket.

He fucks you rough and slow and deep, laughing harshly as a myriad of emotions flash across your face, your lipstick smeared around your mouth and sweat beading your forehead, giving your skin a sheen that’s more like a glow, something he loves to see on you. You look amazing in the moonlight, the silver glow falling across your skin like water, not like the garish brightness of the lights inside. The sparkling sequins on your dress flash in the moonlight as he bounces you up and down on the length of his cock, and you can feel heat engulfing you, you’re too hot in your coat now, your body throbbing with pleasure and damp with sweat. The lingering, acidic sting of any cologne that might have transferred onto you is long gone, replaced with the unmistakable musk of sex.

“That’s right – you’re mine.” He snarls at you, snapping his hips up and driving a keening noise from your throat – before you met Grimmjow you didn’t even know you could make sounds like this, you weren’t even particularly vocal in the bedroom, but he loved listening to you plead and gasp and lose yourself in the moment, so he’d keep going until he heard what he wanted to hear. “These tits are mine , this ass is mine and this pussy is mine. I makin’ myself clear?”

“Oh, fuck- yes-“ you groan, head swimming with booze and pleasure both, despite the back of your skull knocking against the bricks with every thrust, like a little drumbeat.

“Say it.” He snarls. “Or you don’t get to come.”

You whine in protest, but he rams his cock deep into you and your mouth drops open like a trapdoor, your voice sounding strangulated as you utter the words; “Yours, yours, ‘m all yours, Grimmjow, don’t stop-"

Raucously laughter greets your ears and he drops you down a couple of inches so he can fuck you even deeper and your vision fuzzes at he hits just right-

“Grimmjow, yes, fuck, right there, right there-“ you chant, you can vaguely hear your own voice echoing back at you in the alleyway but you’re too blinded with lust to give a fuck anymore, and Grimmjow nips your ear in approval, obliging you by pounding into you at a relentless pace, his cock pistoning in and out of your sopping cunt. You smell fucking incredible, like you but dialled up to a hundred, and with his own scent intertwined with it, he could get high off how good you smell right now.

“Thassit, good girl, good little slut.” He pants against your ear. “Nobody else fucks you just right, huh? Only me.”

“Only you, mmmh~”

Your thighs clench around him and he can feel you come, feel your walls clenching around his dick, your body trembling with the force of it. You muffle a cry of ecstasy against his shoulder, but he can hear you perfectly fine and holds you still, watching the look cross your features, panting and heavy-lidded and satisfied. It doesn’t take him too long to come after you do, and you can do nothing but take it as you feel him filling you up, your cunt still throbbing with aftershocks.

“Th-that…” you say, but the sentence fails to form, like a lightbulb sparking a few times before the fuse pops.

As the rushing sound in your ears begins to fade and the noise of your heavy breaths begin to die down – Grimmjow is barely winded, damn him, suddenly other sensations you’d blocked out in the throes of your impending orgasm. The uncomfortable, stifling heat of your coat, how your feet feel too tightly encase in your shoes, the roughness of the brick wall, Grimmjow’s strong arms wrapped tightly around you, one hand squeezing your ass…

And then, you hear someone saying your name, absolutely aghast, and you don't need to turn your head to see Kenji's shocked expression.

“Oh, shit.” You mumble, unable to think of anything else to sum up the situation.

Grimmjow, unbothered and in fact able to hear the clumsy human dipshit approaching a mile off, turns his head, looking down at the other man from his superior height like Kenji is no more than an insect he'd dearly love to squash. Then a smug, sinister grin splits across his face.

"She's busy." Grimmjow says, his fingers tightening around your flesh possessively, using his body to shield your debauched form from Kenji’s eyes – not so much out of modesty but more refusal to let the little asshole see even a glimpse of your perfect flesh, he won’t allow you to be tainted by having some nobody’s eyes on you. “And you ever put your fucking greasy hands on her again it’ll be the last time you have hands.”

Kenji stutters, not even saying words, just meaningless syllables, looking like a scared puppy, and he turns tail and flees. You whine in embarrassment, clutching Grimmjow’s jacket.

“He saw me!” He could get me busted for…public indecency!” you say, even though technically you were somewhat out of sight – Kenji really ought to exercise a bit more caution before he goes poking about in dark paths.

“I’ll push him into traffic.” Grimmjow offers, pushing your damp hair off your forehead and pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to your forehead – he only does stuff like this in his relaxed post-coital state, so you’ve learned to treasure them. “Make it look like an accident.”

He probably isn’t joking, but you chuckle anyway and give your head a fond shake.

“Let’s go home and I’ll think about it.”

“Mm.” he grunts, hitching you up a little higher, one arm around your waist, using the other to tuck himself back into his jeans. You try to right the front of your dress, though there’s no saving your tights, they’re naught but tattered rags on your legs now. “We’ve got a long night ahead anyway.”

Your eyes pop open wide and you look up at him, nearly nose-to-nose with him.

“Wh…what’d you say?” you ask, and Grimmjow cocks his head.

“Oh, you thought we were done?” Grimmjow says casually, grinning at the look on your face. “Heh. You call that bullshit in there a party, sweetheart? I’ll show you a real fuckin’ party.”

[caramilena]

ignore the request that was sent in before this I’m pretty sure I messed up;

Logan coming home late only to find f!reader asleep on the couch, cold dinner on the table, and melted candles

hii, thanks for the ask. Here it is!

Warnings: none, established relationship 

Divider: fanguro

He knows he’s later than he said he would be, but work had kept him so busy that by the time he realized how late it was getting, he finished up swiftly to come home. He worries that you must’ve waited for him. He quietly unlocked the door to your home and let himself in. The living room and kitchen lights were on. He shucked off his leather jacket and shoes and went in search of you. 

He paused at the kitchen, noting the food had gone cold and the candles on the center of the table had melted down to just a stub. His lips twitched in a small smile when he saw that you had cooked his favorite dish. You took such good care of him, and yet he stood you up and made you wait. His fists clenched, he was gonna find you and show you how much he’d missed you in a minute.

However, you weren’t in your bedroom. So he went to the living room and found you asleep on your side on the couch. He knelt on the floor next to the couch and leaned over your sleeping form, watching you intently for a moment. You looked so peaceful and cozy, he didn’t wanna wake you up. Instead, he pushed some stray hairs away from your eyes and cheek. 

You were wearing one of his shirts. It was quite loose and oversized on you but you didn’t care. He snorted softly and stroked your cheek with the pad of his thumb. He liked coming home to find you wearing his clothes, irrefutably smelling like him. His only regret was making you wait.

He tucked his hands under your side and knees and gently hauled you up into his arms. Standing up easily with you in his arms, Logan began walking over to your bedroom. You stirred and rested your head on the crook of his neck. He kissed the top of your head fondly.

Once you guys reached the edge of your bed, he set you down ever so carefully, adjusted your limbs to be comfortable, and pulled the covers over you. Before he could change out of his clothes and join you, you blinked up at him groggily.

“Logan?” You mumbled in a daze, between sleep and wakefulness.

 He hummed. “Sorry, bub. Had to look into some things with Charles.” He stroked your cheek with his thumb as he apologized. 

You mumbled incoherently. He exhaled in amusement, he couldn’t tell if it was a protest or acknowledgment of his words. “Gimme a minute, I’ll join you.”

“Don’t go…” you sighed and reached for him. 

He took your hand and squeezed it, “not going anywhere, baby. Just gonna take my jeans off. You hate outside clothes on the bed, remember? When you got mad at me for it?” He laughed as you screwed up your face in thought.

You yawned but nodded. Watching blearily as he pulled off his jeans and flannel shirt. Clad in only his boxers and tank top, he crawled into bed with you. His chest to your back, he pulled you snugly against him. Finally, you could rest knowing that he was home, in your arms. 

He placed a kiss on your nape and hummed deeply, his chest vibrated behind you with the sound. “Missed you.” He muttered before you drifted off to sleep together.

Feel free to send me more asks, I might be late but I’ll def try to whip up something

[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories /five/ Azriel X reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

They came not an hour later. You hid in your rooms like the coward you accused Tamlin of being. They didn’t put up a fight as Amerantha’s men, Rhys included, hauled them off towards the mountain. It left you in a state of dismay. Because with Tamlin gone, and the Faebane slowly leaving your system, there was no reason for you to stay here in Spring. You could easily run back to the night court and hide in one of the cabins your family owned. You could easily hide in the mountains and pray that one day Amerantha would meet her match. 

Only you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. One day you tried, only to turn and vomit in the rose bushes. You then turned around and went back to your rooms and crawled under your covers. You stayed there and didn’t move for the rest of the day. 

On the third day, Feyre showed back up. Much to your surprise, claiming to love Tamlin and willing to go under the mountain to save him. You rolled your eyes, but knew that love well. Because you would have given your wings if it meant seeing Az again. 

“She’ll kill you,” You say from your spot at the kitchen doors, “The second she realizes you’re there, she’ll kill you. But she’ll draw it out, make it slow and painful.”

“Not helping,” Alis hissed at you. 

“Who are you?” Feyre whips to face you. 

You only smirk, “A friend. That’s all you need to know. Rhys might be your only hope.” 

“Rhysand is a brute.”

“Perhaps,” You shrug, “But he wants out from under Amerantha as much as the next, only he has the power to make it happen.”

“What are you saying?” She questions. 

“If he comes to you with a bargain, take it,” You tell her, “It could just save your life. Play his games, it might just save you from hers.” 

“Don’t be a fool,” Alis said, “Don’t make any bargains.”

“Fine then, die and damn us all.”

“Why are you trying to help me?” Feyre asks. 

“Because, dear human, I want to go home,” you said almost wistfully, “And I can’t as long as that bitch is in power.” 

“Where is home for you?” 

“The Night Court. But I’ve been held here for hundreds of years.” 

“How old are you?” Her voice shook as she asked. 

You only laughed and shook your head, “My age is of no concern to you. I’m not even sure I know it anymore anyway.”

Alis sighs from behind Feyre and gathers some supplies. you  watch her carefully, wondering if she’s eager to send the poor human to her death, or if she hates the idea as much as you do. But you can only hope that Rhys will help her in any way that he can. You can only hope that he wants out as much as you think he does. 

“If you ever feel alone, look towards the shadows,” You explain, “I’m not promising I’ll be there. But if I feel I can risk it-” 

“Now that would be foolish,” Alis adds. 

“Thank you, Alis,” I hiss back, “You should go, now. Mother knows what that Bitch has done to your precious Tamlin.”

The idea of him getting his happy ending made you sick again. The idea of him being able to be happy when he’s caused so much suffering….you almost couldn’t handle it. But if this meant Rhys and the other members of the Night Court could be free then you had to allow it to happen. You had to try to aid the young girl in any way that you could. 

“Stick to the shadows,” You tell her, “You won’t get far once you enter, but always listen. And keep your wits about you.”

“Thank you,” She said in earnest. 

You watched from the broken front door as Alis led her away. You weren’t sure you’d ever see the human again, but you weren’t sad to see her go. It felt like leading a lamb to the slaughter, but it had to be done. There wasn’t another choice. Not if you wanted to survive, not if you wanted everyone to be free again. 

Each day you flung your powers out further and further, urging your shadows just a little further. They whispered back to you, telling you of what was happening under the mountain. How Feyre was dying, sick with fever and how Rhys came forth with a bargain. She headed your advice and took the bargain, marking her with a tattoo and a bond with Rhys. 

Each day you tried to find a way to contact your brother, but you knew you couldn’t risk it. There was no way you could reach his mind from so far away, not with the lingering effects of years of Faebane still in your system. 

You prayed that maybe Feyre would tell him about you and he would figure it out for himself and come for you once all of this was over. You prayed and prayed. There was nothing but silence. No news came. Your shadows were skittish, growing restless waiting for Amerantha to do something. 

You lost weight from not eating. The lack of food would kill you eventually, and maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. If Valaris parished and there was nothing left of the people you called family- no one left but Rhys who thought you were dead anyway…would death be so bad? It could all be over finally, and maybe the Mother would be so kind as to bring you back to Az in the next life. 

Three months. A mere blip in your young life, but feeling like a lifetime nonetheless. It took three long months before you saw three figures coming up the road. They were moving fast, all three of them. Feyre, it seemed, was no longer human. Your shadows neglected to tell you that when they said she’d survived and Amerantha did not. 

You made your way downstairs, towards the door which you’d managed to somewhat fix. None of them looked worse for wear, but you knew whatever Feyre had been through would stay with her for a long time. And Tamlin had the ornate ability to simply sweep things under the rug and forget about them. He would do the same with her. 

She looked High Fae, smelled like it too. With traces of my brother. So small, almost undetectable, but there. Shimmering like the bond you knew they had. You wondered when he would call in his bargain, when he would take her away from this place and show her the splendor of the Night Court, the beauty of it. 

“You’re still here,” Tamlin stopped, a scowl forming, “I set you free.”

“You set me free, perhaps, but I would have died before I made it back to my own Court. Safer to stay here until I could contact my brother.”

“That won’t be happening,” Tamlin said slyly, “Feyre, darling, why don’t you go inside with Lucien. I’ll be inside in a moment.”

Your eyes narrowed as she did as she was told. Lucien spared you a glance, pity swirling in his eye. It made a pit form in your stomach. You wouldn’t be leaving the Spring Court, you realized. You would be forced to stay here until the day you died, or until Tamlin finally decided to kill you. 

Maybe you would make it your mission to push him as far as you could so he would kill you. Maybe then you could finally know peace, and not whatever it was that you knew now. 

“I thought I was going to free you,” Tamlin took a step towards you, “But then your brother made that Bargain with Feyre, and made me look like a fool under the mountain.” 

“So once again, I’m to become your bargaining chip?” I question, “What? Me for Feyre?” 

“Perhaps.”

“I could mist you,” You hiss. 

“Ah, but you can’t,” Tamlin laughs, “Because even after all this time, the Faebane is still in your system. You can’t even winnow, because if you could, you would’ve left by now.” 

He surges forward and grips your cheeks in his hand. You yelp in pain before going completely still. You won’t let him have the satisfaction of seeing you in pain, or anything. He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of it. 

“You, little one, are going to be here for a very long time,” He squeezed your face harder, “And I’m going to enjoy finally breaking you.”

Little did he know, you were already broken. 

“Go to hell,” You spit out. 

“I was already there,” He smirked, “It didn’t take.” 

“He’ll kill you once he finds out,” You force out, “And I’ll watch and laugh.” 

“I’m counting on him trying.”

Tag List

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[nalgenewhore]

stubborn love

elide x lorcan, modern au/coworkers + semi-established + sickfic <3 word count: 4070

She managed to contain herself until Darrow left her office, but the minute the glass door swung silently shut behind him, Elide slumped down on her desk. The cool wood offered a small relief against her heated cheek.

Her peace shattered less than a minute later when someone re-entered her office. Elide forced herself to sit up. The quick change in positions made her dizzy, and she blinked hard a few times. Finally, her gaze focussed on Aelin, who was looking at her like something was very, very wrong. 

Elide suppressed a feverish chill. “Is something wrong?”

“Um, yeah,” her coworker exclaimed, rounding the table with outrage twisting her face. Aelin reached forward and pushed her hand against Elide’s hot face. “Fuck, El, you’re burning up. How did you even make it out of your apartment?”

Flapping her hand dismissively, Elide said, “It’s only a cold.”

Aelin gave her a look, “It was a cold last week, but you couldn’t take it easy and insisted on being in court for eight hours a day three days in a row.”

Before she can say something in her defence, Elide’s poor body was wracked with a coughing fit. It rattled the mucus in her lungs, and she didn’t protest when Aelin passed her a box of tissues to wipe her mouth. “I’m fine,” Elide wheezed. “Just tired.”

“Elide—”

“I’m really, really ok,” she insisted. She braced her hands against her desk to rise to her feet. “And I have to be in court in an hour.” For the past month, she’d been busting her ass over this case, and she’d be damned if she didn’t show up all because she had a sniffle.

Aelin guffawed, “You can’t possibly think you can go to court right now.”

Elide arched her brow as if to say Well? She shouldered her leather briefcase. At least today was only the arraignment, so Elide didn’t have to lug an attché of heavy, heavy files to the courthouse. “It’s my job.”

“Let your boyfriend do it,” her friend held a hand up to Elide’s guffaw. “And you look like you’re on death’s door.”

Her cheeks flushed at the mention of Lorcan. Elide looked at the floor, mumbling, “He’s not my boyfriend.” They had only been seeing each other for about a month. Even if Elide could admit to wanting to call him her boyfriend, she didn’t know that he’d like it. She hauled against her office door, then stood still as Aelin walked out. “If it means that much to you,” Elide said, trying to hide how shallow her breaths were, “I’ll take the day off after the arraignment.”

Before Aelin could argue against that, a deep voice interrupted them. “Hey. You ready to go?” Lorcan stopped just outside her office, looking at something on his phone.

Elide pinched the bridge of her nose to alleviate the pressure from the sinus build-up. “Yeah, just a minute.”

Lorcan frowned as soon as she faced him. “What the fuck happened to you,” he asked bluntly. He never was one for meaningless pleasantries, unless it was only them. Elide preferred thinking that what he said then wasn’t meaningless, though.

“It’s called a cold,” Elide informed him.

He pocketed his phone, running a critical eye over her. In a low tone, he asked her again, “Lee, are you sure?” He looked up at Aelin, who shook her head, before looking back at Elide. “You don’t look so good.”

Elide felt far too exhausted to argue anymore, but she dipped her chin once, “I’m sure.”

✵✵✵✵✵

In the underground parking garage, Elide hadn’t put up any fight when Lorcan insisted that he was driving them. 

They were stuck in a classic downtown Orynth gridlock. She slumped to the side, the window cold against her cheek.

“Lochan,” he said, obviously conflicted. “Please just let someone take you home.” He reached over and laid a heavy hand on her thigh. “I’ll take care of the arraignment.”

Elide hacked once, her stomach aching. “What,” she wheezed as she attempted an easy smile, “you still haven’t learned to share, hmm?” Her breath caught in her tender lungs.

“Elide.”

She gripped his hand, squeezing once, “You can take me home after.” He seemed mollified by that, at least enough to let Elide rest in silence. She never let go of his hand either.

Her eyes had only been shut for a minute, she swore, before someone was gently shaking her shoulder. 

Elide gasped, her lungs too feeble to let her get a full breath. She pressed her hand to her chest like it would make her lungs work.

A warm hand rubbed her back, accompanied by a deep voice. “Slow down. Just take slow breaths.” Elide did as Lorcan encouraged her to, and in a couple moments, her lungs had cleared enough. She collapsed against him to recover, breathing as deeply as she could. “We’re here.”

“Mmm, here, where?” she murmured, too comforted by his touch.

He chuckled a bit, “The courthouse.”

“Oh,” she hummed. Then it hit her, and Elide jolted, “Oh, shit!” She shoved the passenger door open, swinging her legs around. 

Palms flat against the hood of the car, Elide was wracked with feverish chills and glared half-heartedly at him. “Why did you let me fall asleep?” 

“‘lide, it’s ok,” Lorcan told her. “It was only a couple minutes.” He didn’t even let her look at her briefcase and shouldered it himself. 

Elide was sick enough that she let him do it without a fight.

They made their way slowly to the courtroom and met their client outside. Up until today, it had been mainly Elide conversing with the young woman. For all his prowess as an attorney, Lorcan had piss-poor social skills on a good day. However, Elide had to spend all her energy on not passing out and not erupting into another coughing fit, so she let Kaltain suffer through a few awkward minutes with Lorcan.

Luckily, they were summoned quickly. Elide sighed as the air conditioning hit her face. She got to sit, but only for a few minutes before the bailiff announced the judge. 

The courtroom spun as she rose to her feet. Elide swayed, catching herself on the edge of the table. She breathed hard, blinking to centre her vision. Her periphery started to darken. “Lor…” she spoke up weakly, her shaky fingers twisting into the hem of his suit jacket. “I don’t feel- I’m…”

The next thing Elide knew, she was seated outside the courtroom, head between her hands. Her tailor-made blazer laid on the bench next to her because she was burning up. 

Lorcan sat beside her, his body angled towards her. He rubbed her spine up and down, “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“We have work,” Elide protested. 

He was pissed, that was evident enough. “I don’t fucking care. You passed out.” He steered her down to his car, tucked her in the passenger side, and did her seatbelt up for her. Lorcan made sure she was alright before he took his seat behind the wheel.

Elide couldn’t let her duty go, not yet. She gestured behind them as he drove out of the parkade, “We- what about Kaltain?”

“The judge excused us till a later date.”

“Oh.” Elide shrunk a bit in her seat, cheeks burning for a reason besides her fever. What he’d told her earlier finally registered in her scattered mind. “I fainted?”

Lorcan reached for her hand, slipping his fingers through hers. He lifted their joined hands to kiss her knuckles and made Elide smile faintly.

✵✵✵✵✵

In the waiting room, Elide attempted to fill out the form herself, but Lorcan took one look at her shaking hand and said, “C’mere, give me that.” He sat in the uncomfortable chair next to her and let her slump against him. “Alright…” Lorcan perused the form, filling it out with no fuss. 

Elide watched him through slitted eyes. If she wasn’t so sick, she would mention something about his lack of hesitation. At points where Elide was sure he’d pause, ask her for a tidbit of personal information, Lorcan penned in the answer with his neat, concise script.

He wrapped his arm around her after handing the form at the ER desk. Idly, Lorcan kissed the top of her head. “They’ll see us soon, sweetheart.” She hummed, barely conscious against him. 

Lorcan was right, and they were shown into an exam room quickly.

Elide laid on the padded table in a thin hospital gown after the exam. She felt delirious as she scrolled on her phone, not listening to the doctor after it was determined she had bronchitis. Her temperature clocked in at thirty-nine degrees, her blood pressure was worryingly low, and her heart rate was sky-high. In spite of it all, Elide could not care less.

The doctor directed her spiel to Lorcan, giving him explicit instructions Elide was sure he’d follow strictly. He was given a slip of paper with her prescriptions on it. 

After a little while, the doctor left, and Elide griped as she had to redress in her corporate attire. Lorcan sympathised a bit, giving her a kiss on the forehead. She blinked blearily up at him, so damned tired and cold. He ran his fingers through her wavy hair. “I’m going to drop you off, then go get your medicine, alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” Elide rasped, her lungs rattling. “You don’t need to stay with me. I don’t want to bother anyone.”

Lorcan gave her a look of shock. “You’re not bothering me. Why would you think that?” Without waiting for any answer, he continued on, “I told Darrow, and you’re not allowed to even look at a file until you’ve been cleared by the doctors.”

She made a face, turning her head into his chest. Never before had she been this clingy with him, but she’d wanted to be. It wasn’t like Lorcan never offered her unsexual comfort either. “I don’t wanna go to my apartment,” Elide muttered.

He rubbed the back of her neck, soothing her, “You wanna go to mine instead?”

She nodded. She wanted to be surrounded by his comfort, his presence, not return to the pit that was her apartment. 

This time, Lorcan was more patient as he took her back to the car. He didn’t go as far as carrying her, but Elide could tell he wanted to. It didn’t take them long at all to get to his place. 

All of her energy had already been spent, and Elide barely had it in her to walk from the elevator to his door, much less get changed. Lorcan was gentle with her as he exchanged her sweat-damp clothes for a loose t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. 

She climbed into his bed, sighing at the feel of indulgently soft sheets and thick, yet fluffy pillows. Before she could stop him, Lorcan walked out. Elide croaked, too tired to call out. 

He returned after a minute with a thermometre. “Let me take your temp, and then you can sleep, sweetheart.”

Elide rolled her eyes, but she let him stick it beneath her tongue. It beeped after a minute or so, and Lorcan let her recline again. His mouth tightened, “Mmm, still too high.” He brushed her hair back. She hummed, leaning into his touch. “I’ll go get your meds now. What d’you want for dinner?”

“Not hungry.”

“You have to eat something,” he told her, still brushing his hand over her hair. “I’ll go by the deli if you want, get you some soup.” At that, Elide’s eyebrows rose high, and she looked thoughtful. Lorcan bit back a grin. He leaned down to kiss her temple. “Anything else?”

She smiled, “Coffee ice cream.”

“As you wish.”

✵✵✵✵✵

At the pharmacy, Lorcan was somewhat worried that there would be an issue with him picking up Elide’s meds. Yet, everything went smoothly. He went to the deli and to the convenience store for her ice cream. 

When he got home, Elide was still sleeping.

Lorcan let her be for a little while more as he got changed. He put the kettle on to brew some white willow bark tea as well as some honey-lemon. The pharmacist had given him an antibiotic, steroids, an inhaler, and some cough syrup with codeine. Elide wouldn’t like being woken up, but Lorcan had designated himself the role of her nurse, and he’d be damned if she didn’t get better. He knew her infection could turn into pneumonia quickly.

He padded into his bedroom with her collection of meds. Lorcan leaned over her, “‘lide, wake up.”

Elide groaned into his pillow in a very clear ‘fuck off’ gesture. 

Lorcan rubbed her back, coaxing her to roll over. He grinned at her peevish expression, “Hi, baby.”

Again, she groaned and tried to roll back over. 

“Uh-uh, c’mere,” he said, gently stopping her. Lorcan eased her up and wrapped his arm around her. “C’mon, lean on me.” 

As soon as she was seated, another coughing fit stunned her. Elide let a few tears escape, utterly drained. Her joints were throbbing, her head swimming. It hurt to stop coughing, but it hurt more to keep going. 

Lorcan gave her the inhaler first, and she panted around the taste of albuterol in her mouth. It helped her breathe a little more easily, though. “Here,” he picked up the bottle of cough syrup, cracking the lid. He poured out a tablespoon.

Elide sniffed at it distrustingly, then shook her head. “Smells gross.”

“Yeah, but you got that good shit with codeine.”

She rose a brow, looking at him with a small smile. Lorcan chuckled, then Elide dutifully downed the sickly sweet syrup. The synthetic cherry taste made her stick out her tongue in disgust, shuddering, “Nasty.”

“It’ll help,” he told her. 

And he was right. Elide barely made it through her soup, a round of her antibiotics and steroids, and a bite of ice cream before she fell asleep against Lorcan.

✵✵✵✵✵

The next couple days passed in a haze for Elide. Her fever persisted, making her brain fuzzy and unable to properly register what was happening outside of the periphery of her consciousness. Lorcan had relented after thirty-six hours, letting her move from his bed to his living room couch. He’d taken the week off of work to dote on her.

At first, she’d protested that, but he quickly shut that down. Elide decided if he insisted on fussing, then she would take full advantage of it.

Currently, she was curled in the corner of the couch. She sat supported by the armrest because she could breathe better upright. 

Elide coughed into her clenched fist, wheezing. The Twilight Saga: Eclipse played on the TV. She knew it was only because she was miserably ill that Lorcan hadn’t complained when she declared they were to have a Twilight marathon.

Lorcan came over from the kitchen with a new cup of tea. “How you feeling?”

“Horrible,” she said. She shuffled over to make room for him. After he sat, Elide crawled into his lap. She rested her face against his neck, her breathing congested. “This sucks.”

“I know,” he told her. Lorcan helped her sip some of her tea. “You should have a bath or shower after the movie’s done. Steam all that crap out of your head.”

Elide grinned lewdly, her head lolling back against his shoulder. “Someone’s eager to get me naked and wet, eh?” Her laughter was a wet, phlegmy rasp. 

Lorcan arched a brow at her, clearly unimpressed by her brush with comedy. She chuckled to herself as she drank the rest of her tea, and he just played with her hair.

Ten minutes later, Elide nestled closer to Lorcan. Sudden chills had come over her, making her shiver. “You cold?” He bent his head to look at her. 

She nodded.

“Alright.” He shifted her in his arms, then got up with her cradled against his chest. Lorcan carried her to his luxurious bathroom. It had a tub big enough to hold both of them reclined with room to spare, complete with jets and heated tiles.

As he prepared to draw her a bath, Lorcan set Elide down. He got her a fresh towel and hung it on the heated towel rack. Elide watched him with slitted eyes. Over the past few days, he’d done everything in his power to make sure she wanted for nothing. She could hardly move without Lorcan bringing her more tea or her favourite foods. When he brought her her medicine, he gently coaxed her to take it.

Elide didn’t know how to take it. On one hand, she liked this kind of treatment, but on the other, she had no idea what it meant. It could’ve just been because she was sick, so she didn’t want to ask about it.

Lorcan turned away from her as she got undressed, even though he was very well acquainted with her bare body. Elide thought his attempted chivalry was too funny, but she kept her thoughts to herself. He didn’t turn back until she was submerged in the steaming water up to her head. 

He brought her a glass of water so she wouldn’t overheat. He took her temperature again. 

“Better?” Elide croaked. “I feel better than yesterday.” She hadn’t moved all day, trapped in feverish hallucinations between Lorcan waking her up just long enough to take her medicine. 

“Mmm, yeah. Down to thirty-eight.” He smiled briefly. “We’ll break this fever soon.”

Elide lifted her hand, catching his. She smiled at him, “Good.”

After her bath, she felt drowsy, so he carried her back to bed. She took her meds, then reclined against a strategically constructed mound of pillows. Lorcan joined her, winding his warm body around her to ward off any chills. 

✵✵✵✵✵

Her fever stayed down overnight, although Elide woke up feeling like her lungs had been scrubbed with sandpaper. She was alone in bed, Lorcan elsewhere in the apartment. Elide’s entire body ached like she’d just run a marathon.

“Lorcan,” she croaked. “Lor…”

She could hear his footsteps jogging across the apartment before he appeared in the doorway. “Hey, you’re awake.” Lorcan came over to her side with a steaming mug. He helped Elide sit up before handing her the cup of elderberry and lemon tea. As she took a sip, Elide coughed with a whimper. He kissed her temple as he felt the back of her neck. “Temp feels good.”

“It hurts,” Elide mumbled.

“Hurts? Where, baby?” 

With a screwed-up expression, Elide gestured annoyedly at her body. “Everywhere.” 

He hummed, “I’ll get you some Tylenol.” Lorcan moved to get up, but she tightened her hold on his hoodie.

“I don’t want any,” she said. “Can you stay with me? What’re you even doing out there?”

Lorcan winced like he was reluctant to tell her. “I was, uh, just checking on some,” he averted his eyes, “cases.”

Elide’s eyes went wide, and she attempted to surge to her feet. “You’re working? Let me see.” Without much effort, Lorcan stopped her. He eased her back down, ignoring Elide’s complaints. “Lor, please, I just want to look.”

“You barely have enough energy to get through a movie, no way are you doing legal consulting,” Lorcan grumbled. He pinned her in place with a glare.

She wrapped her hands around his arm, leaning in to entice him. “Why don’t you work in here? I’ll behave.”

Lorcan snorted because he didn’t believe for a second that Elide could help herself. “Uh-huh.” She made her eyes wide, not above pouting a bit. He narrowed his gaze at her but cracked after five silent, tense seconds. “Fine. I’ll work in here, if you promise that you won’t even ask to look at anything.”

“I promise,” Elide beamed. She reclined against the headboard with her cup of tea.

Lorcan got up to bring his work into the bedroom. 

For the first while, Elide held up her end of the deal. She sipped her tea and laid next to him, not even stealing a peek at anything. The day before, Lorcan had gone to her apartment to get some of her things, including her laptop. She was watching Ted Lasso while Lorcan worked.

Once she finished her tea, though, Elide grew antsy. First, she closed her laptop and pushed it away. She wound her arms around one of his, resting her cheek against his bicep. “Whatcha doing?” she whispered.

“Working,” he answered flatly. He angled the paper away so she couldn’t see it. “Nothing you’d be interested in.” It was a laughable statement. When it came to jurisprudence, Elide was interested in it all.

Her eyes travelled up his profile. She regarded his glasses, resting on the straight, proud bridge of his nose. Elide smiled against his arm, “You look good in those glasses.”

“Mm.”

Elide hooked her thigh over his hip, ignoring how aching her joints were. She moved closer and figured she could use her feminine wiles to get her way. 

“It’s not going to work.”

She fell back with a whine, coughing once. “Come on! I’m literally asking for it, please?”

Lorcan just shook his head. “Nope.”

Elide stared balefully at the man beside her. He either didn’t notice her glare or was ignoring her, though she suspected it was the latter. He flipped through a thick bundle of paper. Every now and then he’d pause to mark something, or make a note on his legal pad.

She clicked her tongue, half-heartedly kicking his shin. “You’re being mean.”

“You promised you wouldn’t ask me about work,” he replied evenly. “And I don’t fuck sick people.”

Feeling miffed, Elide declared, “It’s funny how you care so much now when four days ago, you were perfectly happy fucking me in this bed.” 

Lorcan shut his eyes with a sigh. He opened them again, looking at her with unending patience. “Baby, four days ago, we did not fuck. I gave you head for, like, five minutes before you passed out for ten hours.”

The way that Lorcan measured her wellness against the length of time that he’d eaten her out had her smirking. She vaguely remembered that night, yet had assumed her foggy memory was due to further activities. Not until now had she linked that gap in her recollection to her illness.

Elide cocked her head to the side, “You stayed with me the whole night?”

“Of course I did,” he frowned. He put his work aside, turning over. Lorcan cupped her jaw and flicked his eyes over her face. “I woke you up and all you said was ‘too tired’ before you were out again.” He wrapped his arms around her, completely abandoning his work to hold her. “I didn’t sleep at all.”

A happy grin curled over her lips. “You were that worried about lil’ old me?”

Lorcan chuckled, idly rubbing her back up and down. “I’d like to think I’m the kind of man who cares about his girlfriend when she’s sick.”

Elide blinked once before her smile softened. She sunk deeper into his side, asking, “Girlfriend, huh?”

His hand paused. He looked down at her. “Well, yeah. We said we weren’t seeing other people, that we didn’t want to; it follows that that would make you my girlfriend.”

Sometimes, most of the time, her favourite thing about Lorcan was his brevity. She hummed a bit, nodding to herself. “What fine reasoning skills you have, Salvaterre.” Tracing a fingertip of his shirt collar, Elide said, “So, I suppose that would make you my boyfriend, then.”

“That conclusion is both sound and valid,” Lorcan answered, his voice lower. He dipped his head to kiss the underside of her jaw. “Love it when you talk logic to me, baby.”

Her laugh vibrated against his lips, and the rasping note reminded him of how ill Elide was. Reluctantly, Lorcan pulled himself up. Their faces were close, almost close enough to share a breath. He so desperately wanted to kiss her.

She could see in his eyes what he wanted. With more restraint than she thought she had, Elide turned her head away. “I’ll get you sick.”

“I can live with that.”

Elide rolled her eyes. She looked at him shrewdly, swayed by the curve of his plush lips. Before her reasoning could win out, Elide gave him a swift peck. “That’s all you get.”

“Tch, cruel thing.”

✵✵✵✵✵

an: @empress-ofbloodshed ok ok its not the one i told u abt but shes coming i swear (also jules i WILL work on that sneaky little mb outtake ok 🥺🤞)

tag list: @sassyhobbits @empress-ofbloodshed @celestialams @the-regal-warrior @shyvioletcat @icecream52 @elentiyawhitethorn @goddess-aelin (lmk if u want to b added/removed)

[game-of-reading]

“You’re too good for me.”

Pairing: Bobby Singer x reader | Supernatural

Warnings: None I can think of

Spoilers: Technically takes place during season 5 episode 2 “Good God, Y’All!” but doesn’t actually include any lines from the episode

Word count: 690

You help Bobby, your boyfriend, come home and start his adjust after his recovery in the hospital.

*gif not mine, found it online so credit to who made it*

Bobby was staring out the hospital window as he waited for you to fill out his discharge papers to take him home.

He wasn’t sure how he was going to handle being in a wheelchair, or how he was going to handle not going on hunts anymore. He knew he was lucky to have you by his side, but even then he wasn’t sure if you’d remain with him.

“Ready to go, baby?” Your voice brought him out of his thoughts and turned his head to look at you as you approached his side.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Bobby grumbled in response before sighing.

“Want me to push you or are you gonna push yourself?”

Bobby contemplated your question, appreciating that you didn’t just assume if he wanted to be pushed.

“Probably be faster if ya pushed.” Bobby decided, managing a small smile.

You nodded and moved behind his chair, gripping the handlebars and turning him around to head out to the hall.

It was silent between the both of you as you pushed Bobby out of the hospital and to your car, stopping beside the passenger seat.

“Okay, do you want help getting in or do you want to try on your own?” You asked while unlocking the car and opening the passenger door, looking at him to see him staring at the car.

Again he appreciated that you didn’t just start to help, instead giving him a chance to decide.

“I want to try first,” He mumbled and you nodded, stepping back as he rolled closer before putting the brakes on the chair.

You watched as Bobby grabbed and moved each of his legs off of the chair and to the ground, bracing his left hand on the car you held a hand out so he could haul himself up.

“Okay?” You asked when he didn’t move.

“Just…” Bobby trailed off, looking at his feet before your face as you gave him an encouraging nod.

“Take your time, babe. There’s no rush.” You said, and Bobby knew you meant it.

With a deep breath, Bobby steadied himself before taking his left hand off the car to move it onto the passenger door, twisting himself and allowing you to ease him back into the seat.

Once he was sitting you let go of his hand and began to fold the wheelchair so you could put it in your trunk. Bobby took his time lifting his legs into the car and getting comfortable, closing the door just as you got in the driver’s seat.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” You said, looking at Bobby with a small grin.

~ later at home ~

You had spent time arranging a bed to the side of the library, upset that Bobby wouldn’t be able to just go upstairs anymore, so you decided to make sure he can still feel a sense of normalcy while being stuck on one floor.

“The hell are ya doing?” You turned to look at Bobby, slightly confused.

“What’s it look like?”

“Looks like ya brought down the whole bed set.” Bobby clarified, pushing himself closer. “Ya plannin’ on sleeping on a bare mattress?”

“I plan on sleeping beside my boyfriend.” You stated, sitting on the edge of the bed, grinning at Bobby’s reaction.

“No, I can’t ask you to give up that bed.” Bobby shook his head.

“Good thing you’re not asking, Bobby.” You said, leaning forward to grab the armrests, pulling him closer so you could place your hands on either side of his face, forcing him to keep his eyes on yours. “I’m going to do everything I can to help you, I will take care of you however you need me too, because I love you. So if you want me to, I’ll sleep up-” Your speech was cut off by Bobby’s lips on yours, your eyes automatically closing as you kissed back.

Bobby broke the chaste kiss, a smile on his lips as you moved your hands to rest on the chair’s armrests.

“I love you, too.” Bobby murmured, bringing his hand up to cup your face. “You’re too good for me.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hope this finds the right audience :)

I'm not much of a poster and I don't usually share my works but I thought someone else might like what I manage to put in words. And, hey, sharing my creative-ness might help.

If you do like my work, feel free to request something!

[mischiefnevermanaged89-blog]

Gotta Be Somebody- Part6

Angel Reyes X Reader

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Mayans Clubhouse

Bishop sat in Templo at the table, a cigarette slowly burning, head in his hand. The rest of the guys sat around the table. It had been a month since anyone had heard anything on (Y/N) and he was getting antsy.

“Hey, Bish.” Angel’s voice came from the other side of the door.

“Get in here.”

Angel opened the door, Nestor standing behind him. Bishop motioned for him to follow, too. The two walked in, Angel taking his place in the corner behind Bishop, Nestor staying at the end of the table, looking at everyone.

“Have you heard from her?” Bishop asked in a quiet voice.

“I have. Three days after you last seen her, I got a message in Morse Code that she was in and she was safe. Last week we had intel again that they were at one of the border towns. Our guys manage to get these.”

He slid a folder across the table. Bishop opened it to find pictures of his daughter, hair around her face, walking with another woman and children. Another of her standing by herself, the scars showing that Nestor gave her. He laid the pictures on the table for his brothers to see.

“It seems she’s made her way up in the ranks so to speak in only a month. The intel provided has proven good so far.”

“How much longer does she have to be there?” Bishop asked.

“That depends.” Nestor responded.

“On what exactly?” Taza spoke this time.

“On when the Los Olvidados will strike next. We’re trying to figure out their endgame. (Y/N) is there to get intel on that endgame and once we know, that’s when she’ll strike.”

“Let’s hope for your sake it’s sooner than later. I want my daughter home.” Bishop said. He waved Angel forward. “Take him out of here.”

Angel nodded, glancing at the folder open on the table and walked Nestor out.

“What do we do about the current haul, Prez?” Riz asked.

“We still go. Chances are Los Olvidados will step in. The chances of my hija knowing what they’re going to be doing will be high and she’ll be with them. I’ll take those chances, just to get a glimpse of her.” Bishop answered.

“What if shit goes sideways?” Creeper chimed in.

“She won’t let it. She’ll find a way to make sure one of us is injured. She’ll make sure they leave us alive. We still ride tonight.”

************************

Angel

After sending Nestor off, I turned and punched the first thing I could find. Lucky for me it was a sheet of metal. I yelled out in frustration and slight pain. (Y/N) wasn’t here. She was still out there, amongst those who were killing to get back at the cartel. I felt the tears well up in my eyes at the thought of something happening to her if she was found out.

“Angel!”

I turned to see Bishop standing on the porch of the clubhouse. “Yeah?”

“I know you’re pissed. I am, too. I want her back as much as you do.”

“Those pictures. He fucked her up man. He scarred her for life, and for what?” I sniffed.

“It was her choice. She made it clear. I’m not happy with it either, but I have to be because it’s what she wanted to do for us.” He lit a cigarette before continuing. “I know you love her.”

I nodded my head. “Yeah. I do, Prez. And I’m not sorry. I know what you said, but I couldn’t help it.”

“I guess we can’t help who we fall in love with. With her you can’t help but love her. She’s special. Don’t fuck it up or I’ll fuck you up.”

“I’m pretty sure she’ll do that herself in that ring there if I do.” I pointed at the fighting ring.

He laughed. “Yeah. She will.” He put his cigarette out and looked at me. “We’re going on this run tonight. We know chances are that Los Olvidados will try and intervene. We also know if (Y/N) knows, she’ll be there. If she is, we can’t jeopardize any of us by acknowledging her, as bad as I know we both want to. If she’s got anything to tell us, she will in her own way. Got it?”

I nodded. “Got it.”

He nodded back. “Good. We leave in an hour. Be ready.”

“Aight.”

He nodded to my hand. “Wrap that up before you leave.”

He turned and went back inside. I followed and went to the bathroom and found some wraps and wrapped my hand. All I could think about was (Y/N). How much I missed her. How I wanted to see her. I walked out of the bathroom and saw everyone in the main area. I looked at the open door to Templo and saw the pictures still on the table. I made sure no one was looking and I walked in.

I grabbed the picture of just (Y/N) and folded it to where it was just her face. I tucked it away in my kutte and walked back out. I gathered with everyone else getting ready to make the run.

“Listen up, here’s how it’s goin to go. Creeper and Riz will be in the van. Coco and Gilly will follow behind. Hank, Taza and Angel will be up front with me. Let’s roll out.” Bishop waved his hand and we all took off.

We stopped at the warehouse for the pickup before heading towards the drop off point. Bishop and I shared a look as we finally left. It would be a couple hours ride there and back so I settled in.

After at least an hour or more into the ride, we could hear vehicles and bikes coming up from behind that wasn’t our own. Creeper flashed the lights to let us know our suspicions were right. Next thing we knew they were flying around us and stomping their brakes ahead of us to make us stop. Bishop held up his hand to signal us to stop. People jumped out of the van and that’s when I noticed a woman’s figure get off a bike.

Bishop and I shared a look, his look telling me not to say a fucking word.

“Out of the van! Let’s go!” A guy yelled at Creeper and Riz, a gun pointed at them.

“Don’t even think about it. Get off the bikes and put your hands up. Let’s go.” Another one yelled at the rest of us.

The woman walked towards me and Bishop, gun pointed straight at us. “Get down on the ground. Now!”

My heart jumped in my throat. It was her. (Y/N). I’d recognize that voice anywhere. Bishop and I both glanced up at her. Her face was covered except her eyes. Those big beautiful (E/C) eyes staring down at us with anything but hatred. Her hair was pulled back. Fingerless gloves on her hands, her wrists showing under her sleeve. Just out of sight, I could see a set of angel wings tattooed on the inside of her left wrist.

“Hurry up! Get it all! Leave nothing behind!” She yelled at the others, her gun still trained on the two of us.

Once they were done, she ordered everyone back into the van. She gave us one more look before she spoke loud enough for her men to hear. “Tell Galindo this won’t be the last time his transports will be hijacked if he keeps the killing of innocents going.”

“I’m sorry.” She whispered before she hit Bishop across the head with her gun.

Before she turned to leave, she inconspicuously dropped two envelopes in the dirt in front of us and kicked dirt on them before turning and running towards her bike. She got on and they sped away.

“Everyone okay?” Hank asked.

“Was that her, Prez?” Riz asked from behind us.

“Yeah. It’s her. She left this.” He held up the envelope with his name on it. “Let’s get back and I’ll call Galindo. We’ll see what it says there.” He shoved it in his kutte pocket.

The other envelope had my name in it. I quickly shoved it in my pocket with her picture and headed off with the other guys.

**************************

We sat in the warehouse waiting for Galindo to give him whatever was in the envelope that (Y/N) had left for him. Bishop kept the other in his pocket that was also in the same envelope.

Finally, Galindo and his men walked in.

“Please tell me why my product is in the hands of Los Olvidados and not at my buyer?”

“(Y/N). She was the leader in tonight’s raid. She made one hell of a show. She told us to tell you that this won’t be the last time your transports will be hijacked if you keep killing innocents.” Bishop chuckled. “Then she was able to drop this for you while no one was around.” He held up the envelope.

Galindo took it and read the contents. He smiled and chuckled. “It seems your daughter is closer to stopping this group in just under two months than any one of my men or any person I have hired has been. You should be proud of her.” He put the paper in his pocket and straightened up his coat. “I’ll forgive this, gentlemen, because as it seems, my product is in safe hands at the moment. And if by some chance, this letter is truthful as to where it will be taken and stored, well, let’s just say, if it can be retrieved, she just made you all very wealthy men.”

He took his leave and left us dumbfounded.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Taza asked.

“I’ll explain back at the clubhouse. Let’s go.”

Once back, Bishop had everyone, including me, join him in Templo. He pulled out the letter and read it to all of us.

Papa,

This won’t be a long one, but I wanted to write knowing Adelita is putting me as leader on this run. And knowing it’s you who is doing the mule, well, I couldn’t say no, simply because of my selfish ass wanting to see you and every one of my brothers and uncles.

Inside this envelope is another letter for Miguel. Get it to him. It’ll have details of where I will have his product stored. I’m setting things up for him to be able to retrieve it, but the only way he will be able to retrieve it is with the promise that when he does, and I’ll be watching, is that each and every one of you receive compensation for the trouble you went through tonight. That compensation will be in the form of $50,000 each.

I mean, after all, the fucker can afford it. He hired me to kill this bitch, right? He’s going to pay to have it done right.

I love you, Papa.

You, too, Assholes.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Things are heating up for our reader! And for our Mayans!! Stay tuned for more!!

@ravennaortiz

@spnaquakindgdom

[withlove-amber]

Baby Box (pt. 1)

alden parker x reader

I don’t have kids, so I hope this works

(Y/N) had been feeling sick all week long. So sick in fact, that she took the last 2 days off of work to recuperate. A thought had flashed into her mind, ‘What if I’m pregnant?’ She immediately thought there was no way she could be pregnant. But, the longer she thought about it, the more realistic a possibility it was becoming. She missed her period this month, but wrote it off as stress from the job. Her and Alden had been talking about having children of their own for the past few months, but didn’t think it would happen for another few. But something inside of her told her to take a test, and to record the outcome no matter what. 

(Y/N) was so nervous as she started filming. “Hey guys, I haven’t been feeling the best recently. I’ve been absolutely exhausted this past week, I’ve had headaches super frequently, and I realized I missed my period for this last month. And when I was thinking about it, I realized that I might actually be pregnant. So, I bought a test, and in a few minutes, I’ll know. Oh, I’m so nervous.” 

(Y/N) stopped filming before she took the test, and contemplated not filming the outcome, but she told herself she would, no matter the outcome. So she reluctantly started filming once again, and said to the camera, “I just took the test, and it’s almost time to check what the result is.” Her timer went off in the background, breaking her out of her thoughts. “Oh, I’m so nervous!” She flipped it over, and lo and behold, positive-5 weeks. She instantly started crying, and held the test up for the camera. It took a few minutes for her to start forming words, instead of just sounds. “I’m pregnant.” (Y/N) repeated over and over again, still in shock. 

She stopped filming to regain her composure, and started filming again an hour later. “I still can’t believe it. It’s been an hour since I took the test, and I just can’t believe it. I’ve been looking up ways to tell your significant other, and I decided on a ‘baby box’ I think it’s called. So now I need to get the stuff to make it.” She changed out of her sweatpants and into a pair of jeans and headed for Target. She started filming once she parked the car. “I’m at Target right now, I’m about to head in, and I still can’t believe it. Like, I’m still in shock.” Deciding to open up a bit more, she said, “Me and him have talked about having kids, but I didn’t think it would be so soon!” 

(Y/N) stopped filming, and bought a couple of onesies, some socks, a blanket, and a couple of hats. She started filming once she was back home. “Hey guys, I’m back home with my haul of super adorable baby stuff. And now it’s time to make the box. Ooh, but before I do, I want to show y’all what I bought.” 

(Y/N) first held up a soft lilac baby blanket that felt like it was made of clouds. Second, she held up two different pairs of baby socks. One pair had a skinny stripe pattern and the other pair had a star pattern. “Isn’t this just the cutest thing! Look how small they are!” Third, she held up two different hats. One was a very delicate yellow, and the other was a very calming sage green. “I wanted to keep it gender neutral, because I don’t know if it’s going to be a boy or a girl yet. Hence the yellow, green, and lilac.” Lastly, she held up a onesie that said, ‘Hi daddy, I 🩷 you’. (Y/N) started to tear up once again while saying, “Look how tiny this is! Oh my gosh! It’s so small! Oh and if you’re wondering where Alden is, he’s at work and said he’d text me when he’s on his way-” She started to say, but was cut off by Alden texting her saying he was on his way home. “Oh, and look at that, he’s on his way home. Which means I need to put this together. Like, now. “ She ended with a laugh.

She stopped filming to construct the box. The outside was just a regular cardboard box that opened up from the side, but she had painted it a silky, cream color. Then she folded and laid down the baby blanket as a first layer. Next she added the hats, as well as the teeny tiny socks. But the finishing touch, was the itty bitty onesie followed by the positive test she had taken earlier. “Here is the box! Oh if I wasn’t nervous enough already, he just walked in the door. Let me hide y’all.” She set the camera down on a bookshelf across the room, and greeted him with a kiss. “Baby, I got something to show you real quick.” She said as she led him to where the box was located. 

“No way! No freaking way!” was the only thing Alden could say, while picking her up and spinning her around like Aurora in Maleficent. When he finally set her down, he gave her a passionate kiss and hugged her so snuggly, and asked, “How long have you known?” “Only like 4 hours.” (Y/N) replied with tears forming in her eyes, at the sweet response. She was nervous he wouldn’t be excited, even though they had been talking about kids. But seeing the tears ever so slightly forming in his eyes and a smile that could rival the sun, every worry and doubt swiftly faded away. “I love you so much, (Y/N)! And I love you too, little one!” He said, crouching down and tenderly kissed her stomach, even though she wouldn’t begin to show for another 3 months. 

At one point in time, Alden thought he was too old to have kids. But that changed when he and (Y/N) started dating. She reassured him constantly that he wasn’t in fact, too old, and she made him feel so much more loved than anyone had in a long time. Now all that was left, was to tell their friends and family. This should be fun.

[bitchinbarzal]

see you later, six | r.sandin

summary; sandy’s been traded.

-

You were at work when he called. You missed it the first two times.

The third time, your assistant came rushing in with your phone “you’re going to want to take this-“

You looked up from your presentation “Lily, what-“

Your client pulled his phone out “Holy crap! The leafs have traded Sandin to Washington”

Your breath hitched and you snatched the phone out of Lily’s hand, answering the call you knew it was him.

“Ras” You mumbled, sadness clearly evident in your voice.

“Hi Käresta” he has clearly been crying.

“Baby I’m at work, what is going on?”

He sighs “They’ve traded me, Washington”

You clench your eyes shut and whisper “Okay… ok, right we will deal with this when I’ve finished this meeting. I’ll be finished in half of an hour”

“They want me on a flight tonight. I’ll need to go home and pack”

“I will meet you there, just pack your stuff” he mumbles an agreement and you hang up, turning back to your clients.

“I apologise for the interruption there-“

The man, the one who had pulled out his phone smiles softly “Sweetheart, go home”

You shake your head “No, it’s okay-“

He stands “I think you’re needed at home more than you’re needed here right now” you smiled gratefully, picking up your bag.

“Thank you, please speak to Lily and we will reschedule”

“Please pass along our congratulations to Mr Sandin on the new team. We’re big leafs fans, he will be missed” You give a tight lipped smile and leave.

Your entire ride home, your knee is shaking with anxiety. Entering the apartment, you can hear him hauling stuff around.

“Ras, I’m home!”

The clattering stopped “I’m in the bedroom!”

You appear in the doorway, leaning on it and staring at him.

He can see the tears in your eyes, even behind the smile “Älskling, please don’t cry…”

You give a watery smile, stepping off the doorframe and hugging him “I’m so proud of you Ras”

His fingers tangle in your hair “I love you, so much”

You sniffle, wiping your nose on the back of your hand before you head to the closet. You begin pulling stray clothes and folding them, placing them in his suitcase.

Your folding becomes more aggressive, Rasmus reaches out and stops you “Baby…”

The hoodie in your hand falls to the floor and you sob “This isn’t fair!”

“I know, my love”

“It’s not fair, Ras!”

He doesn’t respond, he knows there isn’t anything he can say to make this better.

When he has his suitcases packed and next to the door you’re lingering around, you’d made something to eat in order to consume your time.

“Babe, I’m leaving soon”

You nod, waltzing towards where he stood. Your jaw clenched as you tried not to cry again.

“Don’t cry”

“I won’t” You mumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I love you, so much” he kisses your lips over and over again, erupting giggles from you.

“I will be with you in a week” you mumble against his lips “Packing up our lives and headed to the evergreen state… what are we gonna do without bagged milk?” You joke.

“I’m sure we’ll survive” he smirks, then his phone rings.

You look at him “Your ride?”

“Yeah…”

He leans down and kisses you one last time “I’ll see you in a week”

“You go out there and show Washington what they’ve got, okay?” You say, tears lingering once again.

“Okay”

You help him down to the car with his bag, holding the door as he gets in and shutting it behind him.

You stand on the sidewalk watching as the car pulls away. The car disappeared around the corner and you still stood there just staring down the street.

“fucking Washington”

[thebawdybaldurian]

Halsummer Day 1

Halsin enjoying Midsummer

It’s the start of Halsummer! A week of SFW prompts for our favorite Druid. I’ll be adding a NSFW version later tonight or tomorrow, but enjoyed keeping things a little tame. I even included a cameo of a character from a popular DnD show I’ve been wanting to write! This is a pretty Tav-focused story, but several of the other prompts will be more from Halsin’s perspective.

Background: Tav, Astarion, and Halsin are married and have two young twins. The trio has just purchased the home next door, now that they need more space than Tav’s small cottage can accommodate. They sold Astarion’s tailor shop to help pay for it, and he plans to reopen in the front of the house. Cazador’s former palace has been turned into a refuge for displaced tieflings.

Tav awoke from her trance hearing a loud, repetitive clunk that drove her out of bed. “What in the Hells is that?” She searched the cottage, finding it suspiciously empty. “Where is everyone?” She called aloud, expecting an answer. She heard giggling outside and grabbed a cloak to cover her thin chemise. The clunk was louder once she opened the front door and she skirted around the cottage to look for the source. She found Halsin in the wide alley between her cottage and the neighbor’s house, which they’d just bought to accommodate their growing household. The twins sat safely near the side of the house, playing with some toys as Halsin drove a pickaxe into the cobblestone. “What are you doing?” She yawned, shielding her eyes from the bright summer sunlight.

“Getting the new garden started,” he smiled, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“We haven’t even gotten the permits to tear up the alley yet,” she grinned, giving the kids a good morning kiss on the head.

“If some city bureaucrat wishes to come haul me down to the jail, they can certainly try,” he set down his axe to receive his own good morning kiss.

“We already drove one neighbor away from all the…noise,” she blushed as he gripped her buttocks tightly. “Not everyone can be swayed by your rippling physique and we can’t afford to buy the whole neighborhood…Good morning, by the way,” she smiled as he released her from his tight grasp.

“Good morning, my heart.”

“Were you up when Astarion left?”

“I was. He wanted to get a head start on his last minute orders since he’s closing at High Sun.”

“And yet he still hasn’t finished our Midsummer outfits yet,” she smirked, stepping back as he began breaking up stones again.

“You know how fussy he is about getting them perfect.”

“I know too well…so I’m assuming you already have a whole plan in mind for this garden?”

“I have a cart full of rich soil coming from the grove, so once I get all these stones up and dig out enough of this city dirt, I can start planting in the fall before the ground freezes. There will be thick hedges on either side so no one can just walk through and we can have…private time out here. There will be aromatic and medicinal herbs in vertical gardens to save space. I’m hoping to create a dark, damp corner to start some mycology growth, but I don’t know how they will fair in the city. Plants and flowers everywhere else,” he replied, looking over all the work to do.

“Quite ambitious for a man pushing 400,” she grinned widely.

“You make me feel no older than 200,” he growled at her.

“Just make sure to save some energy for tonight’s festivities,” she winked and headed back into the house.

Tav was performing at her first large festival since having the twins and was a little nervous. She’d been preparing for her performance for weeks, but still felt out of practice. She bathed and put on some loose clothing to do some intense stretching, practicing some of her tumbling as well now that they had more space. She brought out some iced honey tea for Halsin as he continued his work in the sun and took the kids in for a nap. She’d just begun precisely tuning her lyre when Astarion arrived home.

He was already dressed for the holiday, wearing a very short, leg-less garment adorned in flowers. It was bare in the back, showing off his now flawless, pale skin. He’d been dressing more freely since being transformed by Syma’s Wish spell. “That’s it then…last day in my old shop,” he went to the icebox to grab his own glass of honey tea.

“You certainly dressed for the occasion,” she teased, his backside peeking out as he bent into the fridge. “You really wore that all day? Bending over in it?”

“Of course,” he grinned, doing a little twirl. “I wasn’t doing any measurements and I sold ten copies of these before even getting to my shop. Once we get the new one open here, I might have to hire an assistant.”

“From dictating laws to dictating fashion trends…quite the turn for a forty-year old,” she beamed, giving him a long kiss.

“I had a lot of help,” he nuzzled against her. “I’ve never been happier.”

They kissed passionately, leaning against the kitchen table until they were interrupted by a stranger knocking on the window. “Take it outside, ha ha!” He laughed drunkenly, clearly already getting a head start on the festivities. He ambled away after taking a swig from a flask.

“So if the shop is officially closed, does that mean you’ve finally finished my costume for tonight? I’d like to make sure I don’t need to change up my set in any way,” she asked, closing the curtains.

“Oh, it’s been done for days. I just like making you wait,” he lied, having finished up the last finnicky bit before he’d gone to the shop.

They left the cottage and found Halsin stowing his tools for the day, needing to drop the kids at the Emerald Enclave, so Zevlor could watch them for the night. “We don’t have permits yet,” Astarion also teased, looking over the torn-up alley. “Though if any city inspectors see you looking like this…they might give us a break,” He gave Halsin a kiss.

Halsin let out a laugh and wiped his brow again. His tanned skin glistened with sweat, small spots of dirt smeared across his bare torso. He’d pulled his long hair until a messy knot, looking the very picture of a romance novel hero. “If it were me, I’d let him plant gardens across the entire city,” Tav stood on her toes to steal a kiss from him. “And whatever he wanted to put in me.”

“Save it for tonight, my heart,” Halsin growled playfully, gripping her tightly against him. “They are letting the maidens loose in the park to be hunted…what will they be doing with the overly amorous wives?”

“I’m sure we can think of something creative,” she purred back at him. “Speaking of…you’ve distracted me from trying on my costume. I am sure Astarion will have a few more adjustments to make.”

“Can you get the little ones up and fed lunch while I bathe? I want to get them over to the Enclave before the frivolities start spilling out into the streets.”

“Of course, my love,” she gave him one last peck on the cheek.

She followed Astarion to the front side of the house, which was still in the process of being converted into his new shop front. Piles of ready to wear garments sat stacked on tables, with various bits from the old shop scattered around. “I’ll take care of the kids,” he offered as they walked inside. “Why don’t you go try on what I left on the dress form?”

“Alright,” she nodded, heading to the small room that would serve as his sewing area.

Astarion went to the children’s bedroom, finding Ava already awake and sitting on the floor drawing. “You’re already up?” He knelt down to kiss his daughter’s head. “Did you get enough sun this morning?”

“Ya…want to dwaw so I woke up,” she replied, staring at the paper with the same intense focus as Tav did.

“You get your energy from the sun, darling, but you still need to sleep,” he mussed her long curls. “Stubborn just like your mother,” he laughed quietly.

They were so very similar that he sometimes forgot that his daughter was a dhamphir, conceived before he had been cured of his vampirism. They could only suspect her unusual thirst for sunlight instead of blood was due to the magically enchanted ring he’d worn before his cure. It had allowed him to walk in the sun through a blood bond with Tav and Halsin. He rubbed the small scar on the underside of his right ring finger, grateful that it might have saved his daughter from a life of bloodlust. “Why don’t you wake up your brother and I will take this to the table for you to finish while you eat lunch? I am sure Uncle Zevlor will have plenty for you to do at the Enclave,” he took the drawing from her to break her focus on it. She whined a little but got up, toddling over to her brother’s bed. She blew a loud raspberry into his peacefully sleeping face to wake him up. She still took after Astarion in some ways, he chuckled to himself as Shan woke up with an annoyed growl.

Astarion helped both kids into their chairs and gave them some cut up fruit to snack on while he prepared some cold sandwiches for them. He was still getting used to eating food again, so they had plenty of simple options in both houses for him. “Astarion!” Tav called from the other room as he set the kids’ plates down.

“Be good,” he looked at them before heading to his sewing room.

Tav stood facing the door with her arms crossed over her chest, both from annoyance and to cover the intense cleavage spilling out of her costume. It was made of embroidered lace, hugging her body with long trails of red, white, and pink roses. “You don’t like it?” He smirked, looking her over.

“It’s beautiful,” she uncrossed her arms. “But if I bend down, everyone is going to see my nipples slip out or what I had for dinner,” she laughed, flashing her backside at him.

“Then we should eat a fine meal tonight,” he teased, leaning down to plant a kiss on it.

“Astarion!” She protested.

“There are specific undergarments to wear under it…and a cover up for walking over to the park,” he grinned. “I just wanted to see it on you bare.”

He grabbed another box from under the table, containing the undergarments and a few other accessories as well. “Let me change then and make sure I can still move in all of this,” she looked everything over with a smile.

He returned back to the kitchen, Ava still too enraptured by her drawing to have eaten any of her sandwich. “Don’t make me take it away,” he put the plate over the drawing to interrupt her again.

“Da!” She cried, tears already beginning to fill her amethyst eyes.

“You aren’t giving your father trouble, are you?” Halsin walked in, freshly bathed and changed into new clothes.

“No,” she sulked, squishing a piece of the sandwich in her fist.

Astarion was a pushover when it came to the children, forcing Halsin and Tav to be the disciplinarians most of the time. “Thank you, my angel,” Halsin sat down next to her to help her finish eating the rest.

“Oooo pretty mommy,” Shan exclaimed with a last mouthful of food when Tav reappeared, fully changed and with her hair taken down.

The semi-sheer gossamer cover up was modest enough to wear in front of the children, the muted colors of her costume visible through the fabric. Her hair was curled and voluminous, a delicate crown of silk flowers threaded into some of the strands. She’d thrown on a bit of shimmery makeup to give her an ethereal, goddess-like aura. “Pretty indeed,” Halsin and Astarion both stared at her.

“I won’t be able to do as many flips as I planned, but Astarion has done it again,” she did a little twirl.

“Why don’t you two grab your favorite toy and I will take you to see Uncle Zevlor?” Halsin kept his gaze on Tav while helping the kids out of their chairs.

He embraced her at once after Astarion had guided the children into their room for a moment. “You are testing all of my self control,” he growled in her ear as he kissed and nuzzled her neck.

“Astarion will have your head if you rip off this one,” she giggled. “Just wait until you see me on stage.”

“The evening cannot come soon enough,” he added as Astarion returned with the kids, a wide smirk plastered on his face.

Halsin put the kids into their walking carriage so he didn’t have to carry them all the way to the Upper City. Shan had chosen to bring his owlbear plush and Ava had Clive Jr. He headed out with them into the early afternoon sun, eager to get back home to his beautiful wife. Several other couples had already dropped their children off at the Emerald Enclave, looking forward to the evening’s decadent mirth-making. “They are growing quickly,” Zevlor greeted them in his wing of the former Crimson Palace. Many of the tiefling orphans had gone to live in Reithwin at Halsin’s commune, but a few had remained in the city and Zevlor oversaw their care.

“Especially this one,” Halsin picked up Shan out of his carriage, Ava having fallen back asleep on the way.

“He will no longer be a little tree very soon,” Zevlor took him, surprised at the toddler’s weight. “He takes after his father.”

“I believe he is already taller than I was at his age,” Halsin covered Ava with a blanket so she could rest more. “Thank you again for watching them.”

“Of course,” Zevlor nodded, setting Shan down with a groan. “I am too old to enjoy most of the revelry.”

“We’ll likely be gone late into the night…but if they can’t sleep, you can always drop them home.”

“I am sure we will have a grand time,” Zevlor began pulling out toys for them to play with.

Halsin returned home after kissing the twins goodbye, already seeing festival-goers heading towards the park in scandalous attire. He could only imagine what Astarion had made for him to wear. Tav was doing some practice on her lyre when Halsin returned, a little extra blush in her cheeks. “She’s still nervous for tonight?” Halsin asked Astarion, whose cheeks were also blushed slightly.

“She is…I did what I could to…take her mind off things, but perhaps she needs a little more…reassurance,” Astarion grinned. “Then you can change and we can head to dinner.”

Halsin was quick with his reassurance, giving her voice a little extra warmup. He changed into the outfit Astarion had sewn, something similar to the one he wore, though a bit less revealing. The trio walked together towards the Helm and Cloak where they would be having dinner. They were stopped several times to inquire about their outfits, Astarion presenting them with business cards. They’d had to scratch out the old address, but Tav had already designed and sent new ones to the printers for him. They ate a sumptuous dinner and enjoyed a bit of dessert tasting off one another’s bodies, as the revelry got into full swing.

They headed towards the park after, where the festival was bustling and crowded. Alcohol flowed freely and was passed between mouths as vintners and brewers provided free samples of their fermentations. Tav accepted a few wine-laced kisses from her husbands, not wanting to drink too much before her performance, but enough to shed any last minute nerves. She left them near a prime spot by the front of the large stage and disappeared into the performer’s tent nearby to make her final preparations. She shed her cover-up, many of the other bards and acrobats inquiring about her outfit. “I’m afraid my designer only does costuming exclusively for me,” she beamed. “But he sells generic designs in his shop,” she handed out several more business cards to the disappointed artists. She secured her flower crown a little more and attached the silk epaulettes that attached to her shoulders and hips. They resembled white wisteria blooms and would shake beautifully when she danced.

She nervously waited at the side of the stage when her time slot drew near. A group of performers were doing an acrobatic number around the three maypoles that had been affixed to the stage. Two solo artists spun and contorted on the side poles, while a pair did a very sensual routine together on the center pole. Tav blushed deeply, spying Halsin and Astarion in the crowd, their arm around each others’ waists. They appeared to be very into the center performance, kissing and whispering to one another as the two performers put several new positions in their heads. Tav had been secretly practicing a few moves utilizing the maypole, but was no where close to the skill of these acrobats. The performance ended with a shower of not-so-subtle white petals that rained down onto the crowd and stage with a resounding climax of cheers. “Tough act to follow, darling,” Lucretious, the emcee, patted Tav on the back as she strutted on stage to make announcements.

Her voice boomed across the park as the Projecting Stones at the front of the stage amplified it into the crowd. “What a stunning and sensual performance by the Spinning Sisters of the Savalirwood!” Lucretious praised as the five acrobats left the stage. They all nodded at Tav as they passed, covered in sweat and petals that had stuck to their skin. “Well worth the journey from Exandria, if I do say so myself!” Lucretious continued.

“Chardonnay? Is that you? I never forget a backside,” a voice called from behind Tav as Lucretious reminded the crowd about the proper etiquette for voyeurism and consent during public activities of an erotic nature.

“Scanlan Shorthalt? Of all the people I expected to see!” Tav knelt down to greet the gnomish bard, giving him a peck on the cheek. “What are you doing on Toril?”

“I’m here with the Sisters,” Scanlan glanced back at the quintuple of acrobats heading to the performer’s tent. “I’m their manager.”

“Manager?” Tav asked. “So you’ve hung up your lute?”

“I have,” Scanlan nodded. “I’m a family man now. I have a wife and giant Goliath son to feed. The money was too good to pass up the invite.”

“I understand that,” Tav smiled, holding out her hands and showing off the two bands on both her ring fingers.

“I never thought I’d see the day and twice over!” Scanlan’s eyes widened. “Especially not after that night we had in Stilben.”

“How long are you here for?” Tav asked, hearing Lucretious wrapping up her announcements with some quick jokes. “I’d love to catch up…and introduce you to my husbands.”

“A few days. Those Planetshift Portals really screw with my insides. We can talk after, perhaps meet for dinner,” he replied as Lucretious announced Tav to the stage. “Good luck, Charddy!”

“Coming to the stage now, one of the heroes of Baldur’s Gate, a seductive songstress and contorter of clowns. Lady Chardonnay Brandywine!”

The crowd whistled as Tav walked on stage, doing a few nervous twirls and bows with her lyre tucked under her arm. All the nervousness ceased when she strummed her first note, imbuing the instrument with her magic. The thrill of the performance took over, her body moving almost instinctually to the rhythm of her music. She danced and sang, spinning around the center pole while a Mage Hand played her lyre. Halsin and Astarion stood beaming in the crowd, seeing that she hadn’t missed a step since becoming a mother. The love and passion that she held in her heart for them flowed into her performance, the crowd both enraptured and titillated. Occasionally moans could be heard in the crowd as couples let their inhibitions lower for the night. There was no shower of white at the climax of Tav’s performance, but an urgent high note as she fell into a split in front of the maypole, her chest heaving with heavy breaths.

She left the stage to cheers and whistles, the crowd becoming more rowdy after her set. “Dear Gods,” she grimaced, putting a hand to her groin. She may not have lost much of a step after giving birth to Halsin’s enormous son, but her hips weren’t what they used to be and she instantly felt it.

“As incredible as ever,” Scanlan clapped as she hobbled down the stairs.

“Just a little more weathered,” she groaned at the last step. “I have my own giant son now too.”

“You had a baby!” Scanlan exclaimed.

“Twins, actually,” Tav downed a mug of water waiting for her inside the performer’s tent. “Once you meet my husbands, you will understand.”

“I can’t wait. It sounds like you’ve gotten up to a lot in the past twenty years. A hero of Baldur’s Gate?”

“It’s a long tale,” Tav let out a loud sigh, fanning herself with her hand. “I wrote a play about it.”

“Well, wait until you hear about Vecna,” Scanlan laughed, grabbing them each a glass of wine. “It sounds like we might need to make this dinner multiple courses.”

[orangecreamsickle]

Reader x Aizawa

A/n: This is my first time posting smut ever- and I just got tumblr- sorry if I use any abbreviations wrong!

Warnings: Dom reader, fem!reader.

Lots of fluff :3, light dacryphillia, rimming, light femdom, insinuation of pegging. (lmk if I forgot something)

// // // // // // //

You’re in your early twenties and moved away from home. Finally you have the freedom you so desired. A fresh start. Aside from your father paying the security deposit and first months rent for your new apartment, everything was your own.

The wind blows through your [h/c] hair. You shiver as the first signs of autumn shows its head. You walk confidently to your apartment, taking the elevator while carrying a heavy box full of your things. You fumble with the lock, balancing the box on your hip for a second. After unlocking the door, and placing down the box, you look around your bare apartment.

How am I gonna furnish this all by myself…

You think, as you go back downstairs to get the rest of your items.

It takes you a few trips to successfully haul your belongings into your new apartment. You toss down your mattress onto the bare carpeted floor of your new room, sighing with relief at finally being done.

I’ll set up the bed frame later.. I’m too tired

Between the few hours of driving it took and carrying your heavy belongings to the 3rd floor, you were tired, and ready for a shower and a nap. You get into the shower, turning the heat all the way up, and allowing the stresses of your day to wash into the drain, along with the sweat and dirt on your skin.

After 30 minutes, you step out and put on the first think you find in the box of clothes- a black tank top and oversized grey sweatpants.

Flopping onto the bed, and scrolling through your phone idly, your stomach growls, reminding you how long it’d been since your last meal.

“Ugh.. I hear you, I hear you.”

You speak aloud to your stomach. After looking up some options for food, you want something home cooked, and decide to go shopping- despite the odd hours. You grab your keys and a jacket, and head to the store.

Using the GPS on your phone, you find a store pretty close to your apartment. You turn off your car and begin to enter.

“Woah, this is close. Lucky!”

You mutter to yourself as you enter the store.

You grab some basic ingredients for a simple fried rice. You reach for the last bag of rice, and someone else’s hand touches yours, intending to grab the same rice you did. You look up and see a man with shaggy black hair that’s tied into a low ponytail, with eye bags and stubble. He has a scar under his eye, and wears a black long sleeved shirt, and basketball shorts.

You grab the rice and put it in your cart, moving his hand off of the bag.

“Hey-!” He calls, looking irritated.

You turn to look at him blankly.

“What?” Your demeanor is nonchalant and calm, while his is tired and annoyed.

“I saw the rice first. Give it back.”

He speaks in a matter-of-a-fact tone, as if he believes the rice is his.

Of course, you don’t give him the rice.

“I touched it first, and it’s already in my cart.” You start to walk to the register, ignoring his tired protests.

He sighs, and rubs the back of his neck muttering something under his breath.

While you didn’t catch what he said, you walk away, not exactly bothered.

After paying for your groceries, you put your groceries in your car, and out of the corner of your eye, you see the man get into his car.

Once you’ve loaded your groceries, you head to your apartment. Groceries in hand, you walk inside and into the elevator. Someone runs to catch the elevator and you hold the door for them, not looking to see who it is.

“Thanks.” A male voice calls.

You look up, and see it’s the man from the store. He recognizes you too, and he looks away, slight annoyance on his face.

You press the “3” button, and wait for him to press his.

“Which floor?”

You ask politely, pretending to not notice him glaring at you.

“Same as you.” He grumbles.

The elevator ride feels 10x longer than before, and the tension is palpable. Once the two of you reach your floors, he gets off first, and walks quickly to the right.

It so happens that your room is also on the right, so you walk slowly to your apartment. He abruptly turns around, looking more annoyed than before.

“Why are you following me?” He sounds fed up with your presence.

“I’m not following you.” You respond, slightly offended that he’d assume that of you.

He rolls his eyes and puts his hands on his hips. “What do you want from me?”

You sigh, and walk past him, to your apartment, unlock the door, and step inside, slamming the door behind you. Entirely unaware that he is your next door neighbor.

You cook your dinner, and the rest of the evening goes by without incident.

You unpack some of your boxes, and reassemble some of your furniture.

You folded your clothes and put them into the dresser, leaving the bottom one empty. After a while, you get to the smaller box. You opened it, and smiled when you look at the contents.

Inside the box was one of the reasons you wanted to move from your family the most.

Whips, collars, assortments of vibrators, dildos, and ropes- among other things. Your safe haven. You placed them into the bottom drawer, and finish putting your clothes away. You sit onto your bed, having put the simple bed frame together. Biting your lip, you stare at your dresser.

It.. has been a while.. I guess I do need a way to alleviate the stress of the move..

After thinking about it, you put your [h/c] hair into a bun, and rummage through your drawer, deciding on an especially thick and short dildo.

Let’s go with something simple tonight..

You think to yourself, opening and pouring the lube onto your fingers.

You slide your hand down into your pants, rubbing the cold, thick lube onto your folds.

You rub firm circles around your clit, sliding your shirt up and playing with your nipple in your other hand. You bite your bottom lip, having forgotten how good stimulation felt.

The only sounds that permeated the room were your heavy breathing and loud squelching. Slipping off your sweats, you spread your legs further, and stick in a few fingers. You silence a whimper by biting your shirt. You pinch your nipple, gasping at the sensation. You slowly push your fingers in and out of your hot, throbbing hole. You lift one leg higher, and push in a third finger. You pump your fingers quickly in and out. Your breathing heavily, and your head falls back onto the pillow.

Before long, you pull your fingers out, and grab your dildo. It’s thick and short, with texture on the outside. You shudder at the thought of it inside you, and slick it with lube. You put it on the bed, and angle your wet, swollen pussy over it. You slowly sit, the dark blue dildo pushing into your tight, longing hole. You cry out, and cover your mouth. After a second, you slam yourself down, thrusting it deep inside of yourself. You moan loudly, muffling it with your hand. You start riding it, wet noises filling your apartment. You bite your tongue to keep your sounds quiet. You bounce up and down, while rubbing your clit. It’s almost too much. It’s not long before your muscles tense, and you ride your peak.

Tired from cumming so hard, you lay down, breathing heavily. After recovering, you stand, and clean yourself up. You put the dildo on top of your dresser, not having the energy to put it back in its place. It’s hard to walk but you get some water and go to sleep.

———-

You awake to the sun hitting your eyes. You sit up and are immediately reminded of the previous night, considering the aching in your lower body. You wobbly stand, and get ready for your day of unpacking.

After eating a quick breakfast, you unpack your things. When you finish, you check the time, finding that several hours have passed, the evening sunlight filling your apartment.

You stretch your sore muscles, and sit on the floor. After a while, you decide it’d be a good idea to go on a walk.

You find a nice trail nearby your apartment, and walk slowly, enjoying the cool autumn breeze. Suddenly you hear a rustling in the bushes. You pause and listen closely, trying to figure out what it is.

A kittens head pops out of the bushes, and it meows loudly at you. Your heart melts as you kneel down and pet the skinny thing.

It must be hungry.. it’s so young!

I don’t have the money but… why not!

You pick up the kitten, and start walking home. Much to the baby cats dismay, you give it a bath, then place him on the carpet. He follows you to the kitchen and watches curiously as you open a can of tuna.

Finding a small bowl, you give him the tuna and some water, and watch him eat. After he dries, you hold him and watches as he falls asleep, purring. You put him onto your bed, then rush out of the house to buy a litter box and other supplies for a cat. You decide to walk since it’s not too far.

On the way back, you notice Aizawa looking through the bushes, almost frantically. You don’t want to interfere, but want to make sure he’s okay.

“Are you.. looking for something?”

You ask, keeping a moderate distance.

He looks up, panic still evident in his features. He looks to the bushes again and then to you, seeming to calm himself a bit.

“Yeah, I- there was a kitten here, and I can’t find him”

He runs his hand hair through his hair.

You got a closer look at him and noticed he looked a bit different. He wore white wraps around his neck, and wore all black clothes.

“What did he look like?” You ask, wanting to help.

“He was about this small, really skinny, white with patches of black and grey.”

He gestures to around the size of a water bottle.

Something clicked and you realized that he might be talking about the kitten you took home.

“Oh- now that you mention it, I took a stray kitten home a couple hours ago”

You shift to your other leg, and watch the relief flood his face.

“Can I see him? To confirm if it’s the same cat?”

He asks, looking determined to see the kitten.

You nod your head, feeling happy that you could help. You lead him back to your apartment, turning the light on and placing your bags down.

After taking your shoes off, you walk to your bedroom, and turn the light on, pointing to the little kitten still sleeping on your bed.

“So.. did you give him a name, or something? Why didn’t you take him home?”

You ask, in attempt to fill the silence.

He walks into your room, and pets the kitten happily. Relieved that he’s okay.

“No, I never named him. I didn’t want to get too attached.” He looks a little awkward talking to you, but he pets the cat absentmindedly.

“I never took him home because I already have a cat, and she doesn’t like other cats.”

You nod thoughtfully, and smile.

“Cat person, huh?”

He rubs the back of his head, awkwardly looking back to the cat.

“You can come visit him whenever you’d like, I don’t mind.” You say, smiling gently.

He nods, and looks back at you. “Thanks, miss…”

“[Y/N]. Just call me [Y/N].”

You flash him a thumbs up.

“Aizawa.”

He says. He looks around your room, noticing how plain it is.

Suddenly your dildo catches his eye. It’s just sitting on the dresser, and he catches a glimpse of what’s inside your dresser as well. He averts his gaze, and clears his throat.

You don’t realize he saw it, and considering how he doesn’t comment on it, or even seems to bat an eye, you were none the wiser.

He leaves after a few minutes of polite conversation, and that’s that.

You pet the cat and put a forest green collar you bought at the store on him.

“I think I’ll call you sage.”

You pet him gently, then sit up. You notice your dildo sitting out, and stand quickly, screaming in embarrassment.

“He totally saw, didn’t he.. there’s no way he didn’t. But he didn’t say anything..”

You pace your room, embarrassment slowly fading.

“It’s normal. I’m an adult, and it was an honest mistake- if he’s grossed out, it’s not my problem!”

And with that, the rest of the evening was quiet and calm.

————-

A few weeks have passed by. You’ve gotten periodic visits from Aizawa visiting Sage. You two have gotten a little closer, hanging out a few hours at a time.

Today was one of those days. You were cooking dinner, with Sage meowing at your feet, begging for attention. Your hair was damp since you just showered.

You wore an oversized shirt with shorts underneath.

Suddenly, you hear a knock at your door.

You go to answer and see Aizawa standing there with a ponytail, a short sleeved black tee, and grey sweatpants.

“Hey, Y/N. Are you busy?”

He asks, noticing your outfit, and looking away.

“Of course not, come in”

You open the door wider and walk back to the kitchen to continue cooking.

You two talk about work for a while- you work as a barista, and he’s a teacher (duh).

After you finish cooking you serve him a plate.

“Oh, you didn’t have to.”

He says, looking away.

You chuckle, putting your hands on your hips.

“I insist!”

“Okay..”

He says awkwardly, and starts to eat.

You two continue talking for a while, moving to the living room, and talking on the couch. You notice his eyes lingering on your legs or chest every once in a while, but don’t say anything about it.

You notice him shifting uncomfortably.

“Are you feeling alright? You seem kind of off.”

You ask, acting oblivious.

His cheeks tint pink slightly, and he nods.

“I’m feeling fine- it’s just warm..”

You nod, and look at the boner in his pants.

“Is that so…”

His face burns hotter when you point out his excitement. He looks away from you.

You scoot a little closer, and speak in a sultry tone.

“What’s got you feeling this way, Shota?”

Your use of his first name made his face warmer, and his dick harder.

“It’s not- I just- I-“

He struggles to come up with an excuse.

You expose more of your legs, chuckling lightly. This makes his dick stand at full attention. His face is red, and he’s breathing heavily.

“Oh, that’s it, isn’t it?”

You ask, knowing the answer already.

He nods, but looks away again, getting embarrassed.

You touch his leg with the tip of your finger to get his attention.

“Would you like help with that, pretty boy?”

He nods slowly, eyes looking around the room, unsure where to look.

You inch closer to him, and grab his chin, making him look at you.

You kiss him, starting slowly, but the kiss heats up quickly.

Before you know it your tongue is in his mouth, and your hand around his throat.

He’s more submissive than you thought he’d be. The two of you break from the kiss to catch your breath. He’s breathing heavily and looking hungrily at you.

“Please.. please touch me..” a few strands of hair fall over his eyes as he begs for more.

You brush his hair from his eyes. “Patience Shota, patience.”

You kiss his neck, nibbling gently, causing him to hum in pleasure. He shudders at the feeling of your teeth on his skin. You work your way down to his collar bone, taking his shirt off.

Kissing down his chest, you take a nipple between your fingers, pinching and rolling. Shota moans, and arches his back, and you can see his dick twitch in his pants.

You continue to play with his nipples for an excruciating amount of time for him. He’s breathing heavily and blushing, pants soaked with precum.

You kiss his chest again.

“Do you want more, puppy?”

He groans at being called “puppy”

“Please, please- I want more, please touch me more” he begs, voice cracking on the last few words.

You happily oblige, kissing down his stomach, and taking off his pants. You kiss his bulge, still encased in his boxers. He moans loudly in anticipation, and starts bucking his hips, trying to find some sort of stimulation. You hold his hips down to not allow him any pleasure unless you say so.

“You don’t get pleasure unless I allow you.”

You nibble and kiss his thighs.

You continue to tease him, and watch him shudder and tremble. Groaning at the very idea that you’ll touch him.

Finally, you lick his bulge through his boxers, sucking on it. He groans and tenses his muscles, fighting every urge to take his boxers off and fuck your mouth.

“Please… please ma’am, please touch me..”

he begs, sounding more and more broken.

You chuckle.

“I am touching you”

He wines, wanting more stimulation.

You take his boxers off, and kiss the tip, before licking up the side of the shaft. You slowly jerk him off. Enough for stimulation, but it’s painstakingly slow for him.

He continues to wine and beg, but you keep going just as slowly.

You kiss his thighs as you jerk him off, making eye contact.

Suddenly, you stop touching his dick, causing him to open his eyes.

“Why’d you stop..”

He asked in a tiny voice.

“If you wanna cum, you have to earn it.”

You get up and sit on the couch, leaning back and taking off your bottoms.

You don’t say any words, but aizawa understands what you’re telling him to do. Slowly, he leans down, and holds your thighs, opening your legs wider. He makes eye contact as he slowly licks up your wet slit, and focusing on your clit. He makes circles around it, before sucking.

You moan softly, holding his hair. Your sounds make him even harder, and arouses him even more. He seems to gain pleasure from making you feel good. He slips 2 fingers into your wet, empty hole, and slowly goes in and out with his thick, calluses fingers.

It doesn’t take too long for you to cum.

“You did so good, puppy. I think you’ve earned a surprise”

You say, smiling mischievously.

Aizawa looks at you with a longing, almost hungry stare as you crawl on top of him, and kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips.

You tap his erection against your cheek teasingly, causing him to squirm.

Yo start slowly jerking him, increasing the speed. You find his asshole, and start playing with it. Licking and sliding your tongue inside. He arches his back, moaning while gritting his teeth. He stays mostly quiet.

You reach to the side and find a bottle of lube, slicking your fingers and sliding in one finger. He groans, but is surprisingly receptive. A few tears slide down his cheeks. He starts panting harder, as you slide in a few more fingers. You kiss his tears away.

“You’re doing so good for me right now, puppy.” You praise him gently.

You jerk him harder and faster as you finger fuck his ass.

“W-wait if you do it at the same time-“

He hardly manages to warn you before he cums quickly.

You are slightly surprised by how much he came, and look up at him.

He’s blushing and covering his face.

“…I can’t believe we just did that…”

His eyes pop open as you take him to your room, pulling out a few toys, all for him.

He mutters.

You kiss his cheek.

“We aren’t done.”

Needless to say, it was a long, long night.

———————

Okay thanks for reading 😭🫶

[periwinckles]

THE TRAIN BACK TO TWELVE - CHAPTER 27

The door opens behind me and I immediately get up on a jolt.

"What are you doing here?" Delly asks me. Her eyes are red and puffy, and they instantly fill up with tears once she locks eyes with me.

"Waiting for you to come home with me. If you want me to go, I'll go, but…"

She restrains a sob and shakes her head furiously. Nothing pains me as much as seeing her this way and knowing somehow I caused it. I'm dying to touch her, to hold her, to kiss her, but I'm scared I might scare her away if I do.

"We promised no more misconceptions, remember?" I ask her and she nods, as she wraps her arms around herself.

"Are you cold? Do you want to go back inside? You can take my jacket…" I make a move to remove it but she takes my hand instead and pulls me across the street towards Katniss' place.

Somehow she has a key. The house is a mirror's image of Peeta's, but clearly not inhabited in a while. We sit on the couch without a word, but she's still holding my hand. Her fingers feel so cold that I end up bringing them to my lips.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you." She says, averting her gaze from me.

"I'm fine with the yelling. I mean, not fine, but… I get it. Bristel said some really nasty stuff, most people would have flipped for less than that."

She gives me a questioning look and I answer her unspoken question.

"Leevy and Michael told me about it. Apparently a lot of people heard her, it's not really a secret at this point."

Her fingers still feel cold so I take a blanket that's folded next to the coffee table and wrap it around her back. When I go to secure it in front of her, she opens it and launches herself at my neck. We end up wrapped into each other, with the blanket around us.

"You don't get to do that, Delly.” I tell her after a few minutes of silence. “You can't just… When we got together, you asked me whether I was in it for the long haul or not."

"I know…" She breathes against my neck and I feel her hot tears against my skin once more.

"And you specifically stated that you and Saul were a package deal. I told you I was fine with it, didn't I?"

"You did."

I know I shouldnt confront her about her accusations right off the bat. But the truth is, I know I can overlook everything that happened today. This, however… Nothing stung as much as her thinking I somehow resented her and Saul.

"And now, someone you don't even know shows up, and twelve hours later you're questioning everything I do? Have I pressured you in any way, Delly? Whether to get Saul out of the tent, or to… for us to have sex?"

"You didn't." She says pulling away to look me in the eyes. "You didn't, you didn't!" Her eyes are burning with fierceness but I have no time to contemplate on them because she is kissing me. It's chaste, gentle and full of apologies.

"Cyrus has been asking me if I wanted to relocate Saul ever since the new tents arrived last week. I dodged his questions every single time, I wanted it to be your decision, not mine Delly."

"I’m sorry.” She brings her hands around my neck once more, and I pull her to my lap. It’s a comfort to finally feel her near, and I hold her as close as I can.

“I'm sorry I doubted you.” She continues. “Bristel got into my head. She was babbling about how it was so obvious we weren’t intimate, and how Saul was to blame, and I was too delicate for you, and she was insinuating she knew how to please you and I didn’t, and I just…"

I cup her cheek and bring my lips to hers once more. "You're perfect for me, Delly. You are so perfect for me, there’s no one else for me but you. I should have warned you about her as soon as I saw her come out of that train. I’m so sorry you had to go through that…”

When I kiss her again, her lips part at once and I try to tell her everything I don’t know how to say. That I don’t want anyone else. That I’ll give up everything, and I’ll do anything to be with her. That I don’t wish to be apart from her ever again. That I want her, and I crave for her, but I’ll respect her timing as long as she wants me to.

“I love you, Thom.”

I cup her face again and close my eyes, breathing out in relief. I’m still not sure how we will get through this, but we will, of that I am sure.

“Aren’t you going to say it?” She asks me, impatient as always.

“You were very specific about me not saying it today, remember?” 

Read the rest on AO3

[xenomeowph]

every day i go to work, all of my shifts are 7+ hours long. there is a single chair inside the entire building, we are not allowed to sit in it for longer than 5 minutes if we even get the chance to. we have to stay on our feet for as long as we are there. i have a joint disorder that my bosses are aware of, they just do not care.

it is not required by law where i live to provide us with breaks or lunches, we must be nonstop. even when there is nothing to do we must scrounge. we serve food here, we have to pay for it and do not get it for free, otherwise we must starve through our shifts or bring a lunch from home if we can afford the food in a week to bring in lunches. we normally do not have the time to eat anyways. customers are needlessly cruel, they will break things and leave horrific messes and say not a word just for us to discover it later.

i am constantly walking across our very large lot, probably about an acre, to haul and refill propane tanks for our exchange since my bosses are too stingy to do this through a company. since we don’t do this through a company, we carry tanks of all shapes and sizes, all the way up to 25 gallons which normally weigh 106+ lbs. i have to carry them back and forth. i am lucky that we normally only get exchanges of those once a week.

i work in a gas station/general store, i am normally only with one other person. if something breaks, one of us has to fix it. if a customer shoves paper towels down the toilet and flushes it (again), one of us has to fix it. if the soda machine stars spraying soda everywhere, we have to troubleshoot because my bosses do not want to pay to have whatever soda company it is to come out here and have it professionally fixed.

but that’s the thing isn’t it? you sign up to these kinds of jobs expecting them to be straightforward, but then you get an added workload that you don’t expect. you get assigned to do things that weren’t in the job description, you have to do it or else you run the risk of a write up. that can include things like putting up with customers too! when i still passed as a girl there was a customer that would come in every day and sexually harass me. as soon as i stopped passing as a girl he regarded me with disgust and wouldn’t come to my register. instead he would target the teenage girls i work with and forcefully grab their hands when they tried to give him change. we begged for our bosses to ban him from the store, but he was a regular so we just had to grin and bear it. we have to grin and bear it when customers throw soda and ice at us, or throw shit off the counter. we have to grin and bear it when customers harass us about prices, and have to smile when a customer tries to spit at us across the counter. it’s humiliating, demeaning, and disheartening.

and you know what?

for the area im in? this is a pretty good gig. you have to make over 22USD/hr to support yourself as a single adult in my state. most jobs of this type pay anywhere from as little as 8.25USD/hr to maybe 15USD/hr, if you are extremely lucky.

and you know what?

this isn’t even the most horrific retail job i’ve worked. this isn’t even the most horrific retail job i’ve heard of out here. this isn’t even the most awful treatment of employees i’ve heard of out here.

i can barely make ends meet, i can barely live week to week. i’m barely going to be able to put myself through college.

but i can’t just quit because i’m miserable, because i have applied to over 40 jobs in the past 2 months and gotten minimal interviews despite meeting qualifications. for the interviews i have had, some were scams, the interviewer didn’t show up, or they lied about the requirements for the position since there is minimal interest to train out here. i can’t find another, similar job because they all pay less than the paltry 13USD/hr i make now. i can’t find another, similar job because i’ve heard the horror stories through the grapevine and i know i’ll be treated much much worse there.

i don’t know where i was going with this. i guess maybe the point is i wish i could listen to music so that i could ignore the feeling of my leg joints grinding together. i wish i could listen to music while i put in another application to a job i wont get a response to.

it could be because im a communist and im not denying that that may play an influence on my feelings on the matter, but i do genuinely and wholeheartedly believe retail/service jobs are designed to be intentionally soulcrushing and physically painful to perform

[icallhimjoey]

I request star gazing! Have them wish sappy shit onto shooting stars? Late at night? Just the two of them? Just so in love???? ✨

i gotchu babe Wordcount: 2K 

---

Saturn’s Eyes 

“I’ll show you something cool, come on,” Joe reached across the table and covered your hand with his. It could’ve been a quick tap or a squeeze, but almost in a reflex you turned your hand over, so you were holding his.

You both paused to look at it, and you could hear your pulse in your ears. When you flicked your eyes up, Joe’s gaze was soft and he smiled before strengthening his grip on you, getting up and leading you out of the bar. 

Checking the time, you realised that you had thought you would’ve been back home by now. But instead, your date with Joe seemed to have moved on to its second leg.

You’d originally agreed to drinks, at a bar, like normal sensible people do when they arrange for a first date. Just sit, chat, drink and get to know each other a bit; feel each other out. 

Before you knew it, two and half hours had passed, and you had Joe searching his memory for the last time he’d had such a fun time on a first date with someone so pretty. You’d been all flirty eyes, coy giggles, and playful touches combined with good conversation and genuine interest.

And then you’d made him belly laugh, and Joe was sold. 

“I know it’s not… conventional,” Joe said as you started down the pavement together.

Holding hands seemed a bit premature, but it was breezy out and you hadn’t brought any gloves, you’d reasoned, and so you hadn’t let go.

Joe was very aware of how this might have seemed to you. You’d both had a few, and now suddenly, Joe needed to show you something at his flat? Okay. 

“But trust me,” Joe started, then turned his head to look at you. “Do you trust me?” he asked, eyebrows raised high and pouting with feigned innocence. 

“Hmm,” you pretended to ponder.

“Do I trust someone who I’ve only just met to take me over to their flat, after getting one too many drinks in me?” you tapped a finger to your lips and stared ahead through narrow eyes.

“Kind of?” you then shrugged and smiled at Joe. 

Joe chuckled but was quick to defend himself. “I’m serious; this is going to be the most amazing thing you’ll see today,” Joe assured you with big eyes. “I promise.”

“If this turns to be out a huge lead up to show me your knob, I swear to God!” 

You liked how Joe’s throat could burst with laughs at something you said, the hearty sound music to your ears.

Whenever you’d get a smile, a soft chuckle or, like now, a big laugh out of him, his hands would reach to squeeze you. Back at the bar, it’d been a lot of reaching for your forearms, wrists, and hands, just to briefly grab onto. Now, already holding onto your hand, he clasped his other hand around it too, clutching for just a second before letting it go again.

Joe’s flat was further out than what you’d originally thought. Getting onto the tube was fine, but the amount of stops you had to remain on the train for seemed excessive. When, once again, Joe didn’t move to get up when pulling into a station, he had seen your face in the slightly warped reflection over the seats in the window opposite.

“Trust me.” he softly said, and it’d given you goosebumps.

You let your mind wonder about what it could be that Joe was so persistent to have to take you back to his flat for. You know, besides the obvious, which he was very adamant about wasn’t actually the reason he was hauling you across London. 

Your conversation back at the bar had touched upon so many different subjects, but when you’d asked for his star sign and talked about astrology for a minute – you both thought it was meaningless but, did you both read your own horoscope any time you’d come across it? yes absolutely – Joe had told you to finish your drink and come with him. 

About twenty minutes later, you found yourself standing on the flat roof top of his building.

It looked like you weren’t really supposed to be up there, but the wooden picnic table and old, sun-faded, plastic garden furniture suggested people would sometimes hang out up there. Not necessarily at this time of year, though – the middle of November being cold, windy, and very wet.

“Tah dah!” Joe revealed a slim, shiny telescope which looked far too expensive to just be left up there unsupervised.

You were slightly taken aback, unsure of what to say but Joe seemed excited.

“The stars, Joe?” you pouted at him, still stood by the hatch to the ladder you’d just climbed up on. “You needed to show me the stars?”

You might’ve been a little drunk, but this was no doubt the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for you, you thought. If Joe did end up wanting to show you his knob tonight, he’d be allowed, you decided.

“It’s my neighbour’s telescope,” Joe explained and looked at it a second before bending down to look through the lens. “He’s shown me how to use it.”

Joe beckoned you over towards him, and when you got close enough, Joe stepped aside to make room for your turn to have a look at the vastness of space. He hovered closely behind you and awaited your reaction.

A short silence fell, before you hesitantly hummed. 

“I can’t see anything?” you said hesitantly, not really sure what you were meant to be looking at. It was all just... black.

“You’re supposed to close the eye that isn’t looking into the lens,” Joe joked. You added to it, feigning a penny dropping. “Oh, is that how these work?” you said earnestly, before both breaking and grinning at each other.

You stepped aside and let Joe fiddle with the telescope a bit. Stood up on the rooftop and looking out, you were sure there was too much light pollution from the city for a good look at space. But there hadn’t been a cloud in the sky, and Joe’s neighbour had shown him how to find certain planets the other day, so Joe was sure he would be able to find one to show it to you. 

Having a real-life look at different planets in outer space had really impressed him, and he was fully set on impressing you tonight. It took Joe a second to sharpen the image on the telescope once he’d found one.

“Here, have another go,” Joe said, opening an arm for you to step closer once again, this time barely moving himself, his body even closer to yours as you bent slightly for another peek. You felt him place a hand on your lower back over your coat.

“What the…” 

You turned your head to look at Joe. “Am I seeing that right?” you couldn’t quite believe your eyes. 

“Did I not say that this was going to be cool?” he smirked at you warmly, loving eyes playfully scanning your bewildered face. Joe was glad that trekking across the city with you had paid off. 

You turned back to look at it again.

That was Saturn.

Rings and all.

Small, but definitely there.

Fucking Saturn. 

“This… this can’t be real. Tell me I’m not staring at Saturn in real time?” You changed eyes to see if Saturn would look the same through the other and you heard Joe chuckle beside you. 

“You’re not. Not really… light doesn’t travel that fast. You’re looking at the past. That’s Saturn approximately an hour and twenty minutes ago.” Joe explained, recounting his neighbour’s words to you.

Turning back to look at him, you saw him check his watch for the time before grinning at you admiringly, drinking in the vision of you there up on his roof top. You were suddenly very aware that his one of his palms was still on you, and you gave him another pout as you scrunched up your forehead. 

“You showed me Saturn,” you placed a hand flat against his chest, a loving gesture that could comfortably stand on its own, but you didn’t want it to. This was officially the cutest first date you’d ever experienced, and you decided you were about to seal it in with a kiss, on a roof top, in the dark, under the stars – you mentally crossed your fingers it’d be a good one. 

“I showed you Saturn,” Joe repeated you, entirely aware of how he had you swooning.

You leant into him slightly, chin tilted upwards, and Joe’s other hand found your elbow to pull you even closer to him. 

You paused, lips a breath away from each other and for a moment you both just waited. Joe’s eyes were trained on your mouth, and you could feel your heart flutter in your chest. Another second or two passed, and although the electricity between you felt nothing short of addicting, you couldn’t stand it any longer and closed the distance, leaning into him and pressing your closed lips against his softly.

When it felt right to draw back slightly, Joe wavered for half a second before swooping back in, both hands now firmly on your back, cradling your waist and holding you tightly to him.

Joe kissed you slow and gentle, but firm enough to have you hum into his mouth. It was sickeningly romantic. After what felt like minutes, but what could only have been seconds, you pulled away, lips plump and buzzing. You looked at each other with half-lidded eyes and satisfied smiles plastered onto your faces. For a moment you were unable to look away from each other.

“Would you like another drink?” Joe was the first to break the silence. 

“Actually, I’d love one,” 

“Have another look at Saturn, I’ll go grab us some downstairs,” Joe said, but before letting you go, he couldn’t help but kiss you again. 

Joe returned a couple of minutes later with drinks and throw blankets and you both sat down at the picnic table, hip to hip, drinks in front of you on the table and blankets over your legs for some extra heat to the body parts your coats didn’t reach. You carried on conversation, spotted shooting stars together, made dumb wishes, laughed loudly and shared more sweet kisses in between sips of your drinks. 

You thought about what details you would spare your friends, but honestly, you kind of wanted to bare all – this was the type of stuff novels were written about. Even the protagonist who’d hoisted you up onto his building was dreamily handsome, picture perfect, in your opinion. The only thing they wouldn't write about was how cold your fingers felt, no matter how much Joe tried to rub the heat back into them.

“Hey,” Joe said, eyes flicking up at you from looking at his watch. “Go check the telescope again.” 

You gave him a funny look, but were quick up onto your feet with Joe following closely behind. Curious, you closed an eye and looked into the lens of the sleek telescope once more. You were expecting to see something different than before, but you were met with the same view.

Still stunning.

But still just Saturn.

“Any particular reason you’re making me look at this again?” you asked him carefully, afraid you were missing something. 

“It’s been an hour and twenty minutes,” Joe said, and you leant back a little to read his face before turning back to look out into space again.

“That’s the Saturn you would’ve seen had there not been lightyears between us. Your glances from before have only just made it up there.” Joe spoke so poetically, it almost pained your chest. 

“And if Saturn’s eyes had looked down, back at us, it would’ve just witnessed our first kiss.”  

If you could stretch the night, use your will to slow down time, you would’ve done just that. Even if it was just because it meant Saturn would get to witness more of the two of you, up on Joe's roof, with painfully frozen fingers but with hot, blushing smiles.  

-----

The Taglisted: @ghostinthebackofyourhead @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @jssmth5 @nobody-000 @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @eddiemunsonfuxks @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @thefemininemystiquee @dirtyeddietini - add yourself   

[finniestoncrane]

Heya, could you write something about Farrell! Oz and Reader? Maybe about Oz coming back home after fighting the Batman and Reader comforting them? Thanks

Honey, I'm Home

Farrell!Penguin x GN!Reader, word count: 750 ah anon poor ozzie omg, but it just means i get to love on him so i guess i can't be too sad for him oops 💜 also look at him all wet and sad, poor bub ;-; request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff: blood, injury, mostly just very sweet fluff u-u

“Oh my god, Ozzie! What happened!?”

The collar of his usually pristine shirt was covered in dark, almost brownish, red. His face stained the same colour. In fact, there was so much blood it was almost impossible to tell where it was coming from. Approaching him cautiously, knowing how much he hated to make a fuss of himself, you tried to hold back the look of deep concern growing on your face, but he already knew he’d worried you.

“Ah!” He waved his hand at you, dismissively, trying to usher away any stress he might have caused you. “I ran into the Bat is all.”

“That brute!”

He placed his umbrella in it’s space by the door, taking off his long, leather coat, revealing the extent of his injuries, bruising already beginning to form on his face and his knuckles, suit filthy underneath, suggesting he’d been ambushed indoors at least and not beaten up and left somewhere in the rain. He finally made eye contact with you, evident that he had been avoiding it since walking through the door, and sighed when he saw your expression.

“I held my own, sweetheart. Don’t you worry about me.” He continued as you cocked an eyebrow at him. “I’m just not as young as I once was.”

He was still offering you a smile, beaten and bruised, ego and body, and yet his main concern was making sure you were soothed. The least you could do was pretend to not be as concerned, that usually made it easier for him to accept your help. You brought your hand to his upper arm, squeezing it softly, his muscle tense under you though obviously he had been hurt there as he let out a quiet hiss.

“But you did good, I bet. Showed him where to get off?” He chuckled softly, the movement of his chest obviously still painful, but he kept his signature grin stapled to his soft, bloodied face.

“You know it, kid.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest. He was so tough, so strong, so brave. But so sweet and tender. And vulnerable. Something that ridiculous vigilante took advantage of at every given opportunity.

“Let me look at you?”

Oswald sat back, sighing, but not denying you. A quick trip to the kitchen for a warm, wet cloth to wipe at his face with and you knelt before him as he sat on his favourite chair, dabbing at the blood on his hands, taking off each ring and placing it down to wash it later, making sure to hold his hands gently, as they looked almost swollen. He really had given as good as he’d got. Hopefully he’d dented that ridiculous jawline beneath the cowl. When you got to his face, wiping the blood from his lips and his chin and working your way up, you gasped.

“Oh, Ozzie! Your nose! Your beautiful nose.”

He tried looking down at it, adorably cross-eyed as he strained.

“Did he get it? It felt a bit funny.”

“He’s broken it! You’re going to have to get it set or…something…”

He tapped at the side of it tenderly, scrunching his eyes closed and wincing in pain.

“It’ll be fine sweetheart.”

“I swear, I’ll kill him.” You stood up, pacing in irritation. But despite the sincerity in your words, the serious manner in which you swore your revenge, Oz was laughing lightly.

“Ok, settle down tough guy. I don’t want you going anywhere near that asshole.”

“For his sake?”

He stood up, a lot of effort exuded in hauling his sore body up, shuffling slowly over to you. His hands, cleaner now but still exhibiting the evidence of a brawl to remember, were placed on your cheeks, cupping your face as he kissed your forehead.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“Hmm…ok. You go sit back down, silly. I’ll bring you some tea to soothe you.”

As you walked away you heard him call after you.

“A scotch!”

You denied him instantly.

“A tea!”

You could hear him grunting as he settled back down into his armchair. Nothing made you more glad than knowing that for all the times he’d gone through this exact situation before, completely alone, he now had you there to make sure he was at least comfortable and looked after. You remembered fondly the first time you had tended his wounds, kissed his swollen and bloody lips and held him as he tried to see if there were any broken bones. He’d held you close, admitting that getting to be nursed by you was worth the beating.