#i’ve been more in a writing mood tbh

[bluetorchsky]

Haha! Now he knows the “wrath” of Accordion putting Toppats to sleep! (he doesn’t always carry that pillow, it will depend on who he is trying to get back into bed for sleep they need) But honestly Pollo, get some damn sleep, can’t be too tired around those chemicals!

I would have drawn something, but since I’ve been so busy with work, I quickly wrote up a drabble for it instead!

Four days. Four days since Pollo actually had a proper rest in his room. If he wasn’t napping in the Cafeteria, he was definitely sleeping next to the chemicals and tools he had around him.

He yawned, stretching his back as he pushed another finished rocket to the side. “Mmph…need coffee…” He mumbled tiredly, eyes starting to become blurry from the lack of sleep.

As he slowly stood up from his stool and shuffled to the other side of his lab, where the coffee maker sat with lukewarm coffee still in its pot, Pollo stopped halfway when he thought he heard something. Something skittering across the floor, and the ground beneath him just sinking a little.

He shook his head and groaned. “Need coffee…my precious rats…are in their cage…just imagining things, Pollo.” He muttered to himself, continuing to shuffle to the table that has his precious drink.

When he finally reached it, he noticed he left a clipboard there and picked it up to read it. As he did, he didn’t hear the soft squeak of the metal floor, and the stilled heavy breathing coming up behind him.

Only when Pollo did look over his shoulder, he was instantly knocked out by a soft pillow, smacking his face right in the cheek.

Pollo’s head swam and he chuckled, seeing visions of Test Subject 73 and Test Subject 7 running back and forth in his vision.

“No, no…back to sleep…my little rats..,” He said, laughing a bit wildly before he fell face first to the floor.

Except he didn’t. As soon as he went unconscious, a large blue gloved hand caught him. They let out a heavy sigh, looking at the state of his private lab.

Accordion shook his head, and carefully carried Pollo into his arms. “Another one on the list.” He mumbled to himself, turning on his heel to leave the lab. He tucked the pillow he used to hit Pollo under the scientist’s head, humming softly under his breath as he walked.

Pollo was going in and out of consciousness. But as he listened to that strange melody that suddenly appeared in his ears, he let his eyes close shut, pushing his head more into the plush pillow.

————

“Pollo? Are you waking up?”

The scientist groaned and slowly opened his eyes, blinking confusingly. “W-Whu…where…” He carefully moved his head side to side, seeing he was in one of the Toppat dorm rooms. “…Where am I?”

“My room, piccolo!” Danny said happily, clasping his hands as he smiled down at Pollo. “Oh, my dear Pollo, you really needed that sleep, didn’t you?”

Pollo carefully pushed himself up, groaning as he felt a headache from sitting up too quickly. “I guess…” He blinked a few times before his hand tried to find his goggles. “H-How long was I out?”

“Oh, um…three days, piccolo.”

Pollo’s breath hitched, his eyes widening. “T-That long?!” He tried to get out of the bed, willing his legs to move. “I-I have to go back! at he rockets–”

A large hand gripped his shoulder, making him stop. “Are staying in your lab, which has been locked up until you woke up.” Accordion said to Pollo, his face hardened but a soft look in his blind and green eyes. “Danny took care of your rats while you were sleeping. You seriously needed it.”

Pollo looked up at the larger Toppat before looking back at his poppa. Danny rubbed his hands nervously, a concerned and worried look on his face. There were some bags under his eyes, a sign he had stayed up at least one night to watch over him.

The young scientist looked back and forth between the two Toppats, before he sighed and nodded. “Okay…maybe one more day of rest?”

“Talk it over with the doctor that’s coming over. They’ll clear you when they feel you’re ready to go back.”

As Accordion bowed his head to Pollo and Danny and was about to leave, Danny rushed over to him and hugged his side. “Grazie again, Fisarmonica! Really, thank you for checking up on him.” Danny said, sniffling as he fought back his tears.

Accordion just chuckled, and patted Danny’s head. “Just doing my job, Danny.” He said before giving Pollo a smile. “Besides, I say we’re even for the upgrades to my prosthetics, hm?”

Pollo smiled, chuckling. “Yeah, definitely!”

He probably could add something else to those prosthetics, but he would wait until he was back in his lab and finishing up those rockets.

Pollo will sleep for at least 3 days XD

Later...

Pollo couldn't fight against accordion XD That little fight must have lasted 20 minutes before he passed out from sleep on the pillow

At least Danny will take good care of Pollo :) he hasn't slept for a few days…

Accordion belongs to @bluetorchsky

Danny belongs to @capturecharlesau

[mrsbarnesblog]

Jersey

masterlist ko-fi ao3

College! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Natasha’s idea of getting a jersey with Bucky’s name turned out to be much better than you expected.

Word count: 3.2K

Warnings: smut, established relationship, college, football player bucky is a biggest warning tbh, he's so in love, locker room sex, nat is good friend, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare.

Author's note: honestly one of my favorite fics because college athlete bucky is my biggest weakness (I should probably write about him more often)💘

It’s been another game for the "Avengers", where your boyfriend Bucky Barnes was a quarterback. Today was one of the most important games against "Hydra" – their biggest enemy. Obviously, you couldn't miss the game, and Natasha, your best friend and roommate, will be with you as always. And right now, she has convinced you to do something that has been on your mind for a long time.

"C’mon, It’ll be fun. He’ll like it, I promise!" She said as you two stood near the place that made custom t-shirts with any prints. And at this moment, Natasha wanted you to order a jersey with Bucky’s number and his name on it.

"I don’t know, Nat. I mean, I want to do it, but what if he thinks that it’s too much?" You nervously played with the hem of your skirt.

"Now stop it." She stood before you and put her hand on her hips like a mother who was scolding her child. "You’ve been dating for more than a year, and his guy loves you so fucking much that he can’t even tear his eyes from you every time you two are in the same room. So when I tell you that he’ll love it, I mean it." You silently looked at her for a few minutes, but when she questionably raised her eyebrow, you finally gave up.

"Fine, you won. I hate you."

"I love you too, baby." Nat chuckled and dragged you to the store.

It seemed like there were thousands of people because everyone wanted to see one of the most important games of the season. People were already taking their seats, but you and Nat went straight to the locker room to wish the guys good luck. Trainer Fury was very strict about this, and it was forbidden for people not from the team to go there, but for some reason Nat always found a way to solve this problem.

"Guys!" Natasha loudly knocked at the door. "Are all of you already dressed up? I’m not in the mood to see somebody’s ass today!"

"Come in!" You heard Thor’s loud voice.

"Oh, I see our support group is here." As soon as you two walked in, Sam ended up between you and Nat and threw his hands over your shoulders, leading you deeper into the room. "Barnes will be here soon; don’t worry."

"Okay. Are you guys ready to beat their asses?" You smiled and looked at the almost entire team that had come to see you and Nat.

"Don’t worry, Sweets, we’ll win, as always." Tony answered you while he was cleaning his helmet. "But you should tell your boyfriend to stay away from Rumlow, or else he’ll be suspended again. By the way, is that jersey with his name?" You quietly nodded as the whole team made an impressive ‘woo’ together.

"You two are disgustingly sweet, you know that?" Sam rolled his eyes, and at the same time, the door slammed. "It’s him; go give him some kisses for luck."

"Shut up, Samuel." You laughed and left their little circle to find Bucky looking at his phone. "Don’t you want to say hi, James?" He moved his eyes to you, and his face immediately lit up with happiness.

"I just wanted to text you." He threw his phone on the bench and came closer to wrap his arms around you. "Hi, doll. I missed you so much today." He mumbled into your neck.

"I missed you too, Buck." You smiled when your heart filled with all the love you had for that man. "But wait, I have to show you something." You slipped out of his hands, excited and nervous at the same time. "Look what I’ve got!" You happily turned around to show Bucky your back and flipped your hair to the side so he could see everything better. "Do you like it?"

You had a big red jersey on you, to which Bucky didn't even pay attention at first. But when you turned around, his mouth went dry and his whole body became fuzzy. You had his number 17 and the word "Barnes" on your back. You were wearing his last name on your back.

For a few seconds, he was silent. He didn't answer your answer either, so with confusion written on your face, you faced him again, only to see a weird look on his face.

"What? You don't like it? Should I take this off? I'm sorry…" You started to apologize, only to be interrupted by his low voice.

"Don't you dare take this off, Y/N." He suddenly came closer to you again, and the next thing you knew, your back was slapped against the metal lockers when Bucky’s lips attacked you. He kissed you passionately and deeply, pressing his body against yours as if he was desperate to touch you and feel you closer. You couldn’t hold back the quiet moan that escaped your mouth when he tilted your head with his hand, helping his tongue slip into your mouth.

You thought that you heard the screams of the boys on the other side of the room, but they were really muffled when your head was filled with the thought of your boyfriend’s soft lips and warm skin. Bucky finally broke the kiss, leaving you two catching your breath while he put his forehead on yours and closed his eyes.

"You don’t understand what you’re doing to me. You look so fucking hot in this jersey, I want to fuck you right now." He whispered so only you could hear. "You made me hard, doll." To prove his words, he pushed his hips a little bit closer to you so you could feel the hardness.

"‘M sorry; I didn’t know that you would react like that."

"Hey, Buck, we should already go." Bucky’s grip on your waist became only tighter, when he heard Steve’s voice, and he nuzzled into your neck.

"Give me a minute."

"The game is gonna start soon."

"I said, give me a minute, Steve!" He said it louder. Bucky deeply inhaled, and it was obvious that he just needed some time to calm down.

"Shh, it’s okay, James." You put your hands through his hair because you knew that it would instantly relax him. "You're gonna win this game, right? And without fights." 

"I’ll do everything for you. I just love you so much, doll." He whispered into your neck when his body finally relaxed and he was able to move away from you.

"I love you too, James." He quickly kissed you again before turning around to face the team, who had knowing smirks on their faces.

"You two should get a room." Sam had an annoyed look on his face.

"Don’t worry, Birdbrain, we will. Are you ready for the game, or are you gonna stand here and complain all day?" Bucky winked at you and went out of the room without waiting for the answer from Sam.

"So…" Natasha suddenly appeared near you. "Did you make The White Wolf hard by just wearing a shirt with his name on it?" She grinned, as it was her original plan that worked.

"Oh, shut up!"

The game was tough. Hydra played dirty as always, and Bucky almost got into a fight with Rumlow during the intense moment. You almost jumped out of the seat during the last few minutes of the game, and when "Avengers" finally won, you and Natsha screamed at the top of your lungs.

As soon as the team was done cheering and hugging, Bucky looked at the seat where you were supposed to be but saw only Nat, who pointed at you already standing near the rim. He ran to you with the biggest smile on his face, and when he finally reached you, he crushed his lips into yours.

You didn’t care that many people looked at you, even though you knew that some particular groups of girls would gossip about it for the next week because… well, everyone wanted your boyfriend. You just wrapped your hands around his sweaty neck and pulled him closer to you as far as you could with a fence between you two.

"I’m so proud of you, baby." You whispered into his lips. "You were amazing as always."

"Thank you, doll. I'm happy that you’re here with me." He looked into your eyes as his right thumb rubbed your cheek.

"You know I couldn’t miss your game, especially if it’s that important."

"Mhm, can you… come to the locker room in like twenty minutes?" Bucky nervously licked his lips.

"To the locker room? I thought we were going to celebrate it with the team as always."

"Maybe later, but I’m thinking of something, so come, ‘kay?" He started to go back to the field, but not before giving you another sweet kiss on the lips.

***

You sat in the cafeteria for about twenty minutes, passionately waiting for the appropriate time to go to the locker room because you really didn’t want to see another naked man that wasn’t your boyfriend. One such experience was enough for you. You asked Nat to come with you, but when you repeated Bucky’s words to her, she just gave you a mysterious smirk and patted you on the shoulder, saying that you better go there alone.

When you finally got there and knocked on the door, you heard only Bucky’s voice, who told you to come in.

"James? What’s going on?" You asked as you came further into the room. It was empty except for Bucky, who came out of nowhere and locked the door. "What are you doing?"

He didn’t answer you; he just crossed the room, kissed you, and pushed your back into the metal lockers, just as he did it a few hours ago. He was greedy, passionate, and a little bit too rough, so you couldn’t keep the moan from escaping your mouth. Bucky’s hands squeezed your hips and then went higher under your jersey.

"Bucky…" You pulled away from the kiss, but he took advantage of it and started kissing your neck. Your eyes rolled back as you squeezed his shoulders and completely forgot everything you wanted to say. He sucked your soft skin into his mouth and even bit you. It was obvious that he desperately wanted to leave dark marks on your neck, but, honestly, you didn’t care. He smelled too good fresh out of the shower, with his bare chest and low-rise gray sweatpants, and his mouth… God, you knew what his mouth could do. "Baby, we can’t do it here."

"We can, and we will." He left your neck and looked at you, leaving only a few inches between your faces. "You can’t imagine how hard it was for me not to bend you over the closest surface when you showed me that fucking shirt. With my name on it? So everyone could see that you’re mine?" Bucky licked his already swollen lips. You pressed your thighs together, feeling how wet you were. He definitely felt that motion because his eyes became darker, and he looked like he was going to devour you at that same place.

"James…" You quietly whimpered, not being able to hold yourself anymore.

"Baby, fuck– doll, I love it when you call me that. You drive me insane." He decided not to lose any more time, so his hands went straight to the button of your jeans. He helped you get out of them, not losing a chance to touch your bare legs. "Now turn around, baby." You heard a deep moan, probably when he saw the back of the shirt again.

"Bucky, please." You whispered when you felt that more juices came out of you. You loved when your boyfriend became needy and possessive.

"Look at you, doll. You're already ready for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet." He said that when he put his hand over your pussy, he probably felt the heat and pulse. "I would’ve eaten you out, but I need you too fucking much, so I promise to do it when we get to my place."

"O-okay, just do something, please." You pushed your ass back and heard a loud, deep moan as soon as you touched Bucky’s hard cock through his pants. You put your hands behind your back to try to push down his clothes, and at the same time, Bucky removed your black thongs.

You felt his hard cock on the bare skin of your ass, the tip already leaking with pre-cum. Bucky squeezed your ass with his hands and moved his hips. His perfectly shaped cock grinded against your wet folds, and you couldn’t stop a whimper from escaping your throat.

"Please, don’t tease me��" You didn’t even finish the sentence when Bucky moved forward and buried himself deep inside of you. The mixture of pain and pleasure washed over you, and you didn’t even realize that you moaned too loudly. He was too perfect, filling you completely and stretching you around him in the most delicious way.

"Sh-h, sweetheart, you don’t want other people to hear you, right?" One of Bucky’s hands slipped under your shirt and laid on your stomach, and the other one covered your mouth, pulling you closer to his chest. "Good girl." He mumbled into your ear when you shook your head.

Bucky pulled away from you, still staying deep inside of your heat, letting you adjust to his size. He put one hand from your mouth on your back, which made you lean forward toward the lockers. The cold metal cooled your hot skin, but it still felt like you were burning inside.

Bucky finally started moving his hips, and the filling of his dick coming in and out of you made you almost faint. You two had sex a million times, but it still amazed you how full and satisfied he made you feel.

"That’s right, doll. You’re so greedy for my dick, huh?" He started to go faster, and you tried to move your body to his rhythm. "Was this your plan? Showing me that fucking jersey, so I could fuck you like a little slut you actually are?" His hand went over your back, tracing letters on your shirt with his fingers, and his motions became harder. In fact, it wasn’t your idea, but you should definitely thank Natasha because you really didn’t expect your boyfriend to become even more obsessed with you.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream, and you clenched around Bucky’s cock, making him moan. "I feel how you’re clenching ‘round me. I know that you like it when I call you my slut. Only mine." 

"Yes, Bucky– James, please." A sudden slap on your right cheek pulled another moan out of you, and Bucky just chuckled, knowing that you’re always loud with him.

"Please what, baby?"

"Let me cum, please– James! I’m so close." You felt too overwhelmed with pleasure, not even realizing that you started crying when his fingers moved to your clit, drawing little circles there.

"Fuck, one day I’m gonna make you Mrs. Barnes, so you will have a well-damn reason to wear this shirt." He deeply chuckled, moving harder and harder into you. More nasty sounds of skin slapping into skin and your not-so-quiet moans filled the room. "Can you imagine that, baby? Being my cute little wife, who likes when I fuck the shit out of her? Poor doll, crying. Can’t even handle my cock deep inside your pussy, can’t you?" He moved even deeper into you, and that was it.

"God– James!" You slammed your hands on the metal near your face, trying to find something to hold onto, as the wave of heat and extreme pleasure covered your whole body and mind. Your legs trembled, and the only thing that kept you straight was Bucky’s strong hands. He felt that you were over the edge, that you couldn’t stand on your legs, and he definitely felt more juices coming out of you. He looked down and saw how his shiny cock was coming in and out of your pussy that was particularly choking him, and that sight threw him over the edge. With the last movement, he pulled your body into him, wrapping his hands around you and releasing his hot seed deep inside of you.

You both moaned at the feeling of you being so full of his cum that it had already started dripping down your thighs.

"That’s it, baby." Bucky whispered into your ear. "You did so well. Are you okay?" He left light kisses on your cheek.

It was too intense; not a single thought came to your head, and for a few seconds you tried to put yourself together.

"Mhm." It was the only thing that you were able to answer because your body was still trembling with the leftovers of your intense orgasm.

You two stayed in that position for a few minutes until Bucky realized that you had become too sleepy. He tried to pull out, but you grabbed his hand.

"‘m too sensitive." You almost cried.

"I know, sweetheart, but now I have to clean you and take you home." Bucky gently came out of you, and your body got goosebumps at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you. It took him all the strength not to shove it back into you with his fingers, but you were obviously too tired, and he couldn’t properly take care of you since you weren’t at his or your bedroom.

Bucky fell on his knees, quickly took a towel from his bag on the floor, and carefully cleaned the mess between your thighs. He reached for your panties, helped you put them back, leaving a soft kiss on your leg, and then helped you sit on the bench.

He looked at your sleepy and tired face while putting on his clothes.

"Hey, doll? You’re too quiet. Is everything okay? Was I too rough?"

"I’m ‘kay, it was just as intense as when you make me come many times in one night. Just help me with my jeans; I can’t feel my legs."

"Of course, sweetheart." He helped you with your pants and then fixed your messy hair. You couldn’t imagine how you must’ve looked right now. "I love you so much. Thank you for being here today. You’re truly the best thing that ever happened to me." Bucky kissed your forehead and wrapped his hands around your body, standing up with you.

"I love you too, Buck. So so much." You happily buried your face into his neck, knowing that your boyfriend was going to take care of everything.

He picked up his bag and keys for the locker room and came out of there. Bucky didn’t even close the door when he heard a familiar voice.

"Do not tell me that you two did what I think you did!" Sam was standing there a few steps away with disgust and shock on his face. "I didn’t expect that from you, Y/N/N." He joked.

"Sorry, Sam." You moved away from Bucky’s neck and tried to give Sam your best apologetic smile.

"Well, I’m not. Since you’re here, close the door, Birdbrain; we hurry."

Sam stood there for a few more moments after Bucky left with you in his arms.

He decided that the headphones that he left in the room could wait until another time.

[safination]

Little Things

|Masterlist|

Pairings: Alastor x Reader Warnings: None! TLDR: There are days when Alastor just doesn't want to be touched, and you totally understand that. You're one your best behavior to not touch Alastor. Surely, with such an attentive partner, no misunderstanding will occur.

My inbox is currently accepting requests. Feel free to ask for some stuff. I'm in a mood to write and create, so lend me your ideas and I'll bring them to words. This is a drabble. It's weird not to make full one-shots tbh, but meh, wasn't in the mood to make this a whole one-shot.

It’s the little things, really.

Alastor sits towards the edge of the bar, his stool nudged just a fraction farther than usual.  Charlie leans forward, eyebrows furrowed as she rants about this and that and this and that.

Tentacles slither out the shadows, wrapping themselves around the legs of Alastor’s stool. No one really notices when the tentacles pull him another fraction farther away.

Or, how just this morning, Alastor took time out of his day to grab a bowl, and carefully place the three eggs Niffty asked for.  The bowl slides across the table instead of being placed into her tiny hands.

See? The little things.

Heh . . .

You deserve a pat on the shoulder, honestly. Because what a considerate partner you are! Alastor didn’t even have to mention the slightest discomfort, yet still, you know he’s in ‘no touch!’ mode.

That’s why, for the entire day, you’ve been supporting Alastor’s ‘No-Touch’ day.

The rest of Hell’s day goes something like this:

Alastor asks you to hand him his coat.

And like the considerate partner that you are, you hand it to him. Although, you do have to bite your cheek to stop yourself from helping him wear the thing.

If it were any other day you would wrap it around his shoulders, and hold the back as he slips it around his arm. Then you would trail your fingers across his lapels to adjust its fit. Maybe, even give his bowtie a slight tug.

But you are a very, very, good partner.

So, your hands are kept to yourself, and the coat is placed on the table with a smile.

The devil seems keen on tempting you, but no, you are not giving in. (If you were in the garden, not even the devil himself could make you eat that apple.)

It’s been quite the productive day, and you definitely deserve an award! Not once have you touched Alastor, not have you stepped a foot into his personal space. It’s been difficult if you were being honest, but oh, well.

Maybe you’ll buy yourself a sweet, little treat for being such a considerate partner to Alastor. He’s quite lucky. Very few are as kind as you are, and even less are as attentive to his needs.

Just like right now.

There’s a gaping space between your bodies. It’s an easy thing to place yourself on the edge of the bed, careful not to roll and wrap your arms around Alastor.

Really, an award is in —

Alastor shoots up the bed, his note turned into the air with a scowl. “I refuse to keep playing this childish game,” he says, huffing at you. “I’ve been waiting all day for you to sort it out, but I’ve had enough.”

“Dearest . . .” You blink at him, pushing yourself up to sit as well. “I . . . What?”

His lips twist, and once more he huffs. It reminds you of a buck. “I would rather that you tell me that you’re upset with me instead of doing these ridiculous little things.”

“Ridiculous?”

“Ridiculous and childish!” Alastor points a finger at you, and there’s this petty voice urging you to chomp it off for such an audacity. “Do not confuse me for a fool, dearest. You’ve been avoiding me all day.”

“Well, of course, I have!” you say. “You’ve been in a mood since the moment you woke up. The cat almost got its tail bitten for rubbing between your legs.”

Alastor stares at you, an incredulous look on his face. “Ridiculous,” he tells you. “You are, absolutely, ridiculous.”

“I think you mean ‘considerate’.”

He flops back down to the bed, then rolls to you like some fucking child. Alastor keeps rolling until you don’t know whose limbs belong to who. His fingers curl around your shirt as he buries his weight deeper into you.

It’s the little things, remember? Like how you reach out to play with the strands of his hair until you’re finally combing through.

“I thought you were in a mood.”

“I am,” Alastor tells you, and deeper and deeper and deeper he goes. “All day I’ve been wanting nothing but this, yet you were so quick to deny me.”

“Don’t your moods usually require personal space?”

Alastor pulls you even closer, until your personal space becomes his as well. “This belongs to me,” he says. “And I don’t appreciate it being taken away from me.”

[jockwrites]

Can you write something aggressive please 😩

RIGHT HERE - p.b

warnings: smut, (r receiving,) use of drug substances, cursing

a/n: this is pretty short, not that aggressive tbh..but i’m trying a new writing style! also please please please send requests <3

for @billiesmainchick @doyouknowhowtob3nd

paige is manspread on the couch, the aroma of weed sorrounding her.

at the moment, she’s mad because you’d rather spend time with your friends than her. but this isn’t a one time thing—you always do this.

she thinks maybe she’s just overthinking, maybe she’s just in her mind too much. but regardless, if you called she’d answer. if you came in, angry, upset, she’d comfort.

no matter how mad she is, she’s always there for you.

but you aren’t answering her calls, and she’s starting to get heated minute by minute. that’s when she decides to call you one more time, just for closure so she can go to sleep. she’s already high as it is.

you giggle & laugh with your friends, noticing an incoming call from paige before accepting it.

“hello?” you speak into the phone, your smile blatantly obvious through your voice.

her voice is shaky, and there's a hint of anger in it "hey, where are you right now? who are you with?" she asks, trying to keep her tone even. but it's clear she's on edge.

you roll your eyes, knowing she’s just in one of those moods, “im with my friends, paige,” you huffed.

“why can’t you spend time with me? and why the fuck won’t you answer my calls?” she questions, her voice wavering. she’s getting upset, her voice shaking a little. she’s a bit too high.

you shake your head “paige, they’re my friends. and i didn’t answer because we’re having fun, i’ll be back soon.”

she scoffs, getting more heated “so i'm not important enough to answer? i'm sitting here alone, waiting for you. and you're out having fun with your friends. do i not matter to you?”

you get agitated, rolling your eyes as your hand comes up to rub your temple in distress and annoyance, “paige, i’ll be home soon. stop overreacting. yes, you do matter, but they just wanted to spend time with me.”

she laughs bitterly, “stop overreacting? really? you're telling me to stop overreacting when you're the one who keeps blowing me off?” her voice raises. she's definitely high and definitely pissed, “i've been waiting for you all day.”

you scoff, “paige, God. chill the fuck out i said i’ll be there soon.”

she pauses, her breathing heavy. silence. then she speaks, her voice low, “you know what? forget it. i don't give a fuck about your friends.” and with that, she hangs up the phone. you stare at your phone, confused. that was harsh.

you look around, then eagerly tell your friends you need to go, “hey guys, im gonna head out. paige needs me”

you get a simple, in sync, “bye bye,” from everyone before you get up to leave.

you don’t know what’s gotten into paige.

by the time you arrive to the apartment, she’s high as can be, her eyes bloodshot red. she’s in some joggers and a white tee on the couch, her legs manspread. her eyes are low, the expression on her face enough to scare a child. the stench of weed is thick in the air.

you walk in, noticing the unusual disposition she has, “hey baby, are you okay?”

she looks up at you, her gaze hazy as she speaks with sarcasm dripping in her voice. “yeah, im fine. just chillin.” she reaches for her phone, texting someone quickly before putting it down. “so, what made you come back after you fucking left me for those bullshit excuses of ‘friends’?” she asks, her voice husky and low.

you roll your eyes in annoyance, putting one hand on your hip, “paige,” you speak calmly, “i just wanted to have fun. am i not allowed?”

“take a fucking look around hazel,” she says, her voice a low mumble. her eyes are heavy, the high she’s on making her lazy, “they’re not your fucking friends. i’ve already explained this to you. i can’t let this shit keep happening, it happens again and again and i’m sick of it. fuck them.”

you furrow your eyebrows, “but they’re my friends paige. i can’t just not hangout with them.”

she sits up, her eyes finally focusing on you. her gaze is intense, serious. “bro, hazel, i don’t give a fuck about your friends. i’m right here, why can’t you see that? i’m the only one who’s been there for you. they just want you to come out with them so yall can drink and get fucking laid.”

you look at paige in annoyance, wondering why she’s so bitter all of a sudden, “paige, i do see you. but you need to stop, they are my real friends. you’re just jealous.”

she stands up, her face slightly red with anger. “real friends? really? are you fucking kidding me? they don’t give a shit about you, hazel. they only care about themselves. but you, you care about me. you always have. and i care about you more than they ever could.”

you’re getting agitated, the frustration clear in your voice.“paige, yes they do,” you protest.

she gets in your face, her breath reeking of weed. “no, they fucking don't. you're just too stupid to see it,” she grabs your dress, pulling you closer. “i've been waiting all night for you. you wouldn’t answer my calls.. you wouldn’t text me back.. i’ve been rolling crazy all damn night.”

you look paige in the eyes, going from a bright blue to dark grey. you lean in to whisper, “paige.. im sorry. i didn’t mean to keep you waiting on me.”

“you don’t act like you’re fucking sorry,” she hisses, her voice low and seductive, “you gotta understand baby, i don’t give a fuck about them.”

paige backs you into the wall, the dark scenery of the living room making it hard for you to see, “paige, please.”

she presses her body against yours, pinning you to the wall. her hand comes up to grip your throat, not squeezing, just resting there. “please what, hazel? please stop? please let you go back to your so-called friends?”

you look up at her, this interaction slightly turning you on, “no, paige. i meant could you forgive me,” you whisper, breaking eye contact in guilt.

her grip tightens around your throat slightly as she leans in close, her lips brushing against your ear, “forgive you for what, hazel?” her hand moves down your chest. her touch is so scary, yet so gentle. “for making me worry? for blowing me off?”

your breathing is speeding up, you gulping as her hand comes back up to your neck, “yeah, kind of.”

she leans in closer, her lips barely touching yours. her voice drops to a whisper. “you gotta let me prove i love you more than they do.” her hand moves from your neck, slowly sliding down to grip your waist as the other hand mimics.

you can feel paige starting to kiss your neck, biting your soft spot which makes you bite back a moan, “you can prove it baby.”

her hands move, groping your boobs softly as she kneads them. her kisses trail to your jawline, “it’s not gonna happen again, is it?” she whispers into your ear, her right hand going to grip your ass.

you moan, your arms wrapping around her neck as you speak, slightly breathless, “mhm, no baby, it won’t happen again i promise.”

she growls softly, nuzzling into your neck, her touch getting firmer. she picks you up by the back of your thighs, wrapping your legs around her waist. she carries you to the couch, lowering you down gently. she climbs on top of you, pinning your arms above your head.

you look up at paige, biting your bottom lip in pleasure, “what, you gonna punish me or something?” you provoked, pushing your chest up slightly.

she grins mischievously, leaning down to bite your bottom lip, tugging it gently. she kisses your neck, your collarbone, your chest, slowly pulling the shoulder straps of your dress down. she looks up at you, her eyes cold. “you wanna be punished?”

you smirk, “maybe.”

she growls softly, her hands trailing down your arms, your sides, to your thighs. she grips them tightly, parting them. she leans down, her breath hot against your core. she looks up at you from beneath your dress, her face neutral. "maybe?"

you nag, body desperate for friction, “yeah, maybe.”

without warning, she tugs your panties aside and dives in, licking a slow stripe up your slit. she moans at your taste, the vibrations sending shockwaves through you. her tongue circles your clit teasingly before sucking it between her lips.

you immediately moan, the sudden traction of her tongue onto your clit making you go senseless.

she continues to eat you out, her hands spreading your legs wider as she laps at your pussy. she sticks a finger inside you, curling it to hit that spot that makes you see stars. “you gonna stop acting like a bitch?”

you bite your bottom lip, hands going to grip her hair aggressively as you buck your hips against her face. practically grinding, “mm paige fuck! yes baby!”

she moans into your pussy, the vibrations intensifying your pleasure. she adds another finger, pumping them in and out rapidly as her tongue flicks over your clit. her free hand comes up to pinch and roll your nipple through your dress. “that’s my good girl, always listening to me.”

you let out a wave of curses and moans, the whimpers eliciting a sudden burst of energy in paige,“oh! paige just like that oh my-”

she growls into your core, her fingers pumping faster and harder as you buck your hips against her face. she can feel you getting closer, your legs shaking against her shoulders. she wraps her arms around your thighs to hold you in place as she doubles her efforts, “come for me baby, let me know you know i love you.”

you moan, grinding against her face as you grope her hair tighter. you use your free hand, going to pull your dress down further to knead your tits, “fuck paige you’re gonna make me cum-”

she sucks hard on your clit, her fingers curling inside you as she presses her palm against your ass. she holds you in place, not letting you move as she devours your pussy. she feels you tighten around her fingers and knows you're about to cum.

you start to approach your climax, your legs quivering, “paige please don’t stop ohmygosh!” you whine out.

she can feel you tensing up, your breathing hitching as you get closer and closer to the edge. she growls encouragingly, her fingers beckoning inside you as her mouth sucks hard on your bundle of nerves. “that's it baby. keep being a good girl for me.”

you reach your climax, riding out your high. she keeps going, drawing out your pleasure until you're boneless and gasping. she slowly eases back, wiping her face with the back of her hand as she grins up at you. “you did so good,” she climbs back up your body, kissing you deeply so you can taste yourself on her.

you kiss her passionately, wrapping your legs around her waist as you cup her face, “i’m sorry baby, i promise i won’t leave you alone like that again,” you promise, still out of breath from the static orgasm.

she deepens the kiss, her hands roaming your body possessively. she breaks the kiss to bury her face in your neck, breathing heavily. “you’re mine, you hear me? no one else gets to touch you like this.”

“i know, i love you.”

“i love you more baby.”

a/n: ok this took forever and it’s still bad but i wanted it to be perfect bc i didn’t like my other fics also new writing style who cheered! nobody. anyway thanks for reading pls pls pls send requests/asks other than just “smut” because that’s literally all i have .. also i used this website to help with words to use for my writing and it works like magic bro😭😭 ok bye yap yap

[xhfics]

Honeybee ~ Seungmin (O.de)

Pairing: camboy!Seungmin x subscriber!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 2.9k

Notes: reader frequently visits a cam porn site and pays for it, mutual masturbation, anonymous sex, voice kink, hand kink, everything is pretty vanilla, seungmin is called 'ode', reader is a bit awkward (mood tbh)

[italic writing is text messages between them]

collab with @joocomics , she's writing a camboy Jooyeon part~ 💜

*new message*

The little ding sound that comes from your laptop startles you, you barely get any private messages on this website. You're pretty much a ‘laying low’ subscriber ever since you joined this platform.

You click on the purple envelope that signals the unread message and let out a soft, surprised gasp.

Ode: Hey Honeybee, I’ve been thinking about sending you a message for a while now!💜 I know you've been a loyal subscriber to my account since day one, and soon it'll be a year since I created this account🎉 I always notice your support and sweet comments, and I wanted to show you my appreciation by asking if you'd be up for a private session some time? Totally free of charge, my treat! 😉 If you'd like to arrange it, let me know which day and time~

You rub your eyes and read the message again, then click on his username and see the purple check mark next to it on his profile. It's really him.

His status is on ‘idle’, so you aren't sure if you want to message him back right away or wait a little. You think back to your shower half an hour ago and how you weren't able to get yourself off after seeing your half-year-long gym crush again today.

Biting your lower lip, and taking a deep breath, you type away at your reply.

Honeybee: Hi! I had to do a double take ngl, I didn't expect you to send me a message👀 It's really nice of you to offer that and I’d actually love to accept it🤭 Your schedule is probably busier than mine, so whenever works for you!

Ode’s status changes to ‘do not disturb’ the moment you send the message, and you see him typing in the private chat.

You lowkey panic, not expecting him to talk to you right at this moment. But you chuckle to yourself when you read his reply. Seems like you're not the only one who’s horny right now.

Ode: glad you're up for it☺️ I would actually be available now… if you're in the mood🫣

You chuckle to yourself at his use of emojis, you didn't expect him to send them. After all, you've only ever heard him talk. But it fits him.

Honeybee: right now sounds good.. I was hoping you'd go online tonight anyway so..🤭

A few seconds later a video call invited pops up on your screen; just his cam would be on, not yours. You click accept and you’re greeted by the image you're very much used to right now.

It shows Ode’s upper body, the webcam image stops right under his chin. You’ve never seen his whole face. None of his subscribers have, to your knowledge.

He’s got his laptop on a lower table, so you see him sitting in his desk chair wearing a casual outfit. Just some dark sweatpants and a white, loose tank top. His room is dimly lit, but the brightness of his screen illuminates his body nicely. He also has a purple neon light on his desk for some extra light if needed.

He always shows one side of his body more than the other, it's probably a personal preference.

You can't help but be mesmerized by him; the gym crush nearly forgotten by the sight that's in front of you.

“You were hoping I’d be online tonight?” Ode says with a small chuckle. “Did you really need me that badly?”

He gives you a small wave then rests his chin on his hand, making sure his face is still out of frame. You notice the dainty bracelets around his wrist, his long fingers are barely touching his face.

You feel slightly awkward that you're the only one talking to him right now, but you know he's seen and read way worse things.

Honeybee: Actually yeah. You're my favorite way to get off😌

He sinks down his head slightly, so you can see him smiling as he reads your message. His mouth is so pretty, it's a shame you barely ever get to see it when he streams.

He sits back a bit and stretches his arms behind him. “Hm, that's cute. It's nice to read that. I have to be honest, your comments are usually the ones I look forward to the most.”

You scoff to yourself, he’s probably just saying that to make you feel good. But you happily take the win.

Honeybee: that's smooth, you know how to make a girl happy😉

“I can do a lot more than just make you happy.” He replies quickly. He grabs a bottle of water that's beside his computer and takes a sip.

You feel embarrassed that you get turned on by the sight of his hand grabbing the bottle, and his adam's apple moving as he swallows the water.

Honeybee: you're barely doing anything and I’m already melting 😮‍💨 sorry, I don’t really know how to do this sexy talk stuff 😓

He closes the water bottle and keeps it in his hands as he looks at your message. “Honey~” he almost sings your nickname. “I’ve got you.”

“Tell me who or what got you so worked up that you decided to log on.” He then says with a soft but low voice. He sounds less performative than he does in his streams. He sounds different, but definitely not in a bad way.

Subconsciously he’s playing with the cap of his bottle, and you can't stop looking at his hands. You desperately wish you could hold them, that you could have his fingers where you need him the most.

His hands remind you of the way your gym crush holds his weights. You shift your legs, getting more comfortable in bed as you're getting needier.

Your gaze goes from his hands to the microphone icon in your chat. Should you…? You’ve never done this before on this website. And you actually don't even know if he’d accept it.

Honeybee: do you want me to write it, or do you want me to actually say it?

You watch him put away his water bottle and he’s fidgeting with one of the rings on his fingers. He doesn't say anything.

Oh no. You said something you shouldn't have.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” He then asks, his voice has a hint of concern in it. “You know you don't have to.”

How can he be so caring? Any other cam guy would have already asked you to show your tits to him the minute you accepted the private chat.

Honeybee: I don't mind it, it’ll be more fun when we both talk. Don't you think?☺️

Ode leans back again, one hand behind his head and the other resting on his stomach. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn't curious what you sound like.”

You feel your cheeks warm up a little and you shake off your nerves before clicking on the microphone icon. “A stranger at my gym made me feel this way. I took a shower just now in the hope it would help.”

Ode sits up in his chair as he hears your voice, then lets out an amused chuckle at what you said. “Tell me about the stranger, what about them makes you feel so needy?”

You feel yourself blushing a little, it feels embarrassing. But he doesn’t know the guy anyway. “Well, he’s really handsome. I might have a little crush on him. He’s got a good body, I’m pretty sure he’s a regular at Pluto Fitness. He has a cool tattoo that sometimes shows when he’s wearing specific shirts. I really like the way his muscles look when he works out. Not to sound like a weirdo, but he has sexy hands and arms, kinda like yours.”

Ode is silent for a few seconds and then lets out another soft chuckle, which sounds slightly different than usual. Somewhat surprised maybe?

He then shifts in his desk chair. He gets up and swiftly takes off his top. You let out a soft ‘oh god’ which you entirely forget he can hear.

He sits back in his desk chair again and you feel your heartbeat in your throat when you look at his toned upper body. Bare and in front of you.

“I know how to get you satisfied.” he speaks, making sure the webcam is showing his body nicely. The soft purple glow of his neon light by his desk illuminates his body perfectly. “Pretend I’m him. Tell me what you think about when you see him, when you think of him.”

Your breathing gets slightly heavier and you feel yourself getting more and more aroused by the sight of him. His idea might just work well for you. You set your laptop in front of you, then quickly take off your pajama shorts.

“I… really want to feel your hands on my body.” you say softly. The visual of Ode’s toned body perfectly fits the image of the gym crush you have in your mind. “I want you to make me feel good.”

Ode moans softly, his toned stomach tightens up with every little sound. You notice his hand slowly rub over his sweatpants. “I’ll make you feel good, touch you exactly the way you want me to.”

You're fixated on his hand, the veins are prominent as he pushes down his sweats and touches himself over his boxers. His bracelets make a soft dangling noise as he rubs himself slowly.

Your own hand is following his movements as you give yourself some much needed friction over your panties. “I really need that, I need your fingers in me. Want you to fill me up.”

You pant softly, eyes glued to the screen and looking at his movements so you can match them as best as you can with your own hand.

“I can imagine your pussy feeling so wet for me, so good.” He replies, his voice dropping lower. His other hand is slightly gripping onto his chair, his chest is moving up and down with his breathing and panting.

God he looks fucking gorgeous like this. You're infatuated by him. You have been for a while now. Ever since the day you subscribed to him.

“Ode, I need you so badly.” You speak out your wish to him, breaking your little roleplay.

Gym crush who? He’s in the far, far back of your mind. You desperately need some sweet release. And you want it from one person only.

“It sounds so fucking hot when you say my name.” Ode’s voice gets even deeper than ever. “I never thought I’d ever hear your voice. It's better than I imagined.”

“You’ve imagined what I would sound like?” You ask curiously.

“I have.” His cute and slightly shy laughter sounds like music to your ears. And the sight of him trying to give himself some friction while talking about wanting to hear your voice, makes you so horny. “You're my favorite.”

“I’ve imagined the way you sound like, what you might look like.” He continues, slipping his hand into his boxers, and you see his large hand palm himself. “I’m fairly sure you're as pretty as you sound.”

You follow his move and start to slip your fingers in your panties and through your folds. A soft moan slips out of your mouth. “Ode.. you make me shy when you say that.”

“Fuck, that's cute.” He chuckles softly, followed by a slightly louder groan. “I wish I could see you.”

You watch his hand rubbing his bare hard on and the veins, of both his hand and his dick, are prominent and beautiful. You bite your lower lip trying to suppress another moan.

“Maybe next time.” You sigh, slipping your fingers into yourself. The sight of Ode gulping when you say that, makes you feel good about yourself. You hope he takes the offer.

He speeds up when he hears you whining as you finger yourself and he pants rhythmically along with you while you breathe heavily along with him.

The both of you are exposed, but you're the only one who’s actually seeing something of the other.

“Fuck.” you whimper, slipping two fingers in and out of your wet hole, as your other hand slides under your pajama shirt to play with your nipples. “I wish you were here to take care of me.. I know I never say it when you stream, but you really do turn me on so much.”

You’ve not thought about anyone else but Ode for a few minutes now, it almost feels like you’re not being fair to the gym crush.

“Honey…” he sighs, his grip firmer and his voice is slightly shaky. “I know I don’t know you, but I want you so bad. I want to touch you, fuck you, just the way you like it.”

The second he says he wants to fuck you, you make yourself cum. You try to pretend that you didn’t, but your whimpers and moans are too strong to be kept to yourself.

You look at your laptop screen, your fingers still in you, and you see Ode’s cock covered in precum. He’s rubbing his thumb over his tip, his fingers and rings covered in his juices now. He’s messier than he is on streams, but it's so much better.

You slightly see his jawline and lips; they’re parted and he makes the most beautiful and needy noises.

“Can you do one more for me, honey?” he asks. You know he’s close, and you desperately want to cum with him.

“Yeah.” you breathe heavily, sliding your fingers in and out your sensitive hole again slowly. “I can’t stop thinking that it’s you doing this to me.”

“Good, that’s good.” Ode replies with a soft smirk. “Gonna pretend you’re here with me.”

You’re squirming on your bed, chasing your second high as your room gets filled with the heated noises coming from your laptop.

“I wanna be there.” you confess with a sigh, biting your lower lip as you rub your clit with your fingers and overstimulate yourself. Your bed sheets are soaked underneath you. “Wanna have my hands and mouth all over you, make you feel so good.”

It seems that’s what he wanted to hear, as it only takes a split second before he cums. Ode releases himself half in his hand, half on his stomach, with the most erotic moan you've ever heard him let out.

The two of you catch your breath for a few seconds. Although it wasn't any actual, physical sex with him, it sure felt like it.

You awkwardly wipe your hand on your bed sheets and fix your underwear and pajama pants, when you're startled by a ringtone coming from your laptop.

Ode has barely cleaned himself up, but he quickly moves over to the other side of his desk to grab his phone, flashing the side of his body he never shows on stream. And it suddenly makes a lot of sense to you why he never does; he has a tattoo on his ribs. A tattoo that you know all too well, even when the room he’s in is dimly lit.

“Sorry, that was my friend Jay.” Ode apologizes as he gets back in frame again. He snickers as he wipes off his stomach and pulls up his sweatpants. “I thought I had turned off my phone.”

“It’s okay, that’s life.” you say with a slight chuckle. “So.. you have a tattoo?”

Even though Ode’s face isn’t visible, you know he just realized what happened when he moved to grab his phone. You see that he’s scratching the back of his head, and he’s probably coming up with something to make sure you keep your mouth shut to anyone else.

“Ah, you saw that?” he states, gauging your reaction.

You nod, even though he can’t see you. It all happened so fast, and you’re trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. The fact that your gym crush is also your favorite cam guy. “Mhm, it’s cool. I like it.”

“Thank you.” Ode replies happily, and you know he’s smiling. “Let’s keep that between us. I trust you.”

He doesn’t know that you now, somewhat, know who he is. But you decide to keep it that way. You still can’t wrap your head around what just happened though.

“My lips are sealed.” you reply with an amused voice. “Thanks for tonight, it was fun!”

“Thank you as well.” You hear a slightly nervous chuckle under Ode’s breath, but he acts a little cooler than his voice seems to be. “Did you mean it when you said you wanted to cam face to face?”

“I did.” you answer way too quickly. Your answer ignites a slight panic inside you and you frantically try to find a reason to change the topic. “But it’s up to you. I have to go. Thank you again, and happy account anniversary.

“Thank you, Honey. And I’ll let you know.” Ode replies casually, he seems to have noticed your slight shift in your mood. “Also, I think you should talk to your gym crush some time. You seem to really like him! See you around!”

“I might.” you say, not wanting to end the conversation with him. Your mouse hovers over the ‘end session’ button and just before you click it, you say a quick “will definitely see you around.”

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

For a request:

Maybe a rescue fic with ghost, price, or soap? One where they rescue their non military fem s/o? I know you’ve written some already and they are so good but I EAT THEM UP EVERY TIME and love that trope so much!!!!!!

Hurt/comfort is my drug I swear

I know that’s pretty vague so maybe I’ll think of more eventually but that’s what I’ve got for now.

I love your writing!

- 🧚🏻‍♀️🧚🏻‍♀️

None Lacking Sins

Pairing: Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader

Synopsis: It started with the incident at the grocery store and then built to the hidden gun in the nightstand and a quick, frantic, call to your boyfriend.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: Implied stalking, violence & blood, angst, protective Soap, suggestive language and conversations, implications of wanting a kid, vulgar language, fluffy banter, hurt/comfort, canon typical actions, edited in the middle of the night

A/N: I've been in a Soap mood lately, tbh. I think I'm going to flip-flop uploads for my Gaz series and Requests too...anyways. Enjoy, anon! You can never go wrong with a rescue fic!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*  

You called him for the first time when you were at the store, picking out dinner and asking what he wanted for a welcome home meal.

“Well,” his sly voice made you roll your eyes, but a smile still blossomed over your lips. “If you want me to be rash, Bonnie, I’d say that I wouldn't mind a good bite out of your–”

“Johnny, you finish that sentence, you’re not going to get anything besides butter on toast. Give me a recipe before it gets dark out.” Veiled glee was obvious from your tone, and the heat on your face could all but be heard over the line. Two months apart had made you both eager to be in each other's presence. 

Picking up a box of pasta, you flip it over and check the price, sticking to your budget and tilting the phone parallel to your chin. A deep chuckle meets your ears, and your chest feels light as it pierces your lungs. 

Your boyfriend was off in Australia this deployment—he’d been complaining about the heat nonstop on those few and far between video calls the two of you shared. While it was a step-up to know where exactly Johnny was this go around, the prospect of his job still made you incredibly nervous. There was never a time you could remember when he came home without a new cut or scar; bruises were all but guaranteed. 

Sucking down a soothing breath, you place the pasta into your cart and fix the phone’s position. The Scot was coming home in a day or so, you wanted to make him feel at home again. Destress.

You’ll see him before you know it. There’s no need to worry.

“Bit snappy, then, eh? Oh, alright.” The man huffs good-heartedly, and you hear the springs of those thin barracks-bed mattresses as his large frame shifts. Johnny lets off a soft sigh before continuing. You listen intently, leaning onto the handlebar ahead of you. “What about a nice plate ‘O that one you always make—hell—the…the one with the Pollock and cabbage.”

You blink through a laugh, shaking your head and pushing yourself off to go find the needed ingredients. The dish wasn’t easy to make, in fact, it took a helluva lot of time, but you didn’t mind in the slightest when it came to cooking for Johnny. He deserved it. 

“Hey, now,” He teases, smirking to himself, “What’s so funny over there, Dearie? You makin’ fun of me?”

“I would never dream of it, oh great and wondrous, Mr. MacTavish!” You huff, fake serious, as you place a box of cookies into the cart and pass a few strangers who raise an eyebrow at your conversation. A man passes by with a blue cap on, and you swerve the cart to move around him while tossing back a frown. You soon continue on like nothing happened, pulling back the sense of security from the man over the line. “Do you want mashed potatoes with that as well? Wine?”

Johnny groans, “Hey, you’re the one that asked me!” 

Divulging into giggles, you make your way around the store and stock up, holding a light conversation about how he and the rest of the boys were doing. 

“Ghost told me to let you know he appreciated the book you lent him, said he’d get it back to ya as soon as he’s able.” The Scot comments, and a hum makes its way from you as you head to the self-checkout. 

“Well, that’s good. I said he would like it – the bastard’s so tight-lipped about what he enjoys it was hard to nail-down a genre.” A chortle sounds off when you gather the chilled pollock and scan it; the phone was held against your shoulder to your ear. “High Fantasy for the win, I guess.” 

“I should get the man to read ‘The Way of Kings’ next time—form a little book club, y’know? Get all the boys in on it like some old ladies.” It was adorable how cute Johnny sounded, like a kid on Christmas. “Stemin’ Jesus, could you picture that, Bonnie?”

“I’d pay to see you pitch that, Dear.” A cheeky tone leaks through. “Price would laugh straight into your face.” 

“Please, the old man doesn’t know how to laugh….He’d just puff cigar smoke in my face and tell me to fuck off.” 

“As I said—I’d pay to see it.” Your boyfriend grumbles under his breath as you place the paper bags into your cart, the contents heavy, and grab your receipt with quick fingers. “Gaz would definitely be in for it, though.”

“I don’t doubt that. Anything beats playing cards for weeks straight, aye?” Your hand can finally grip the phone once more, and you sigh contently as the strained position of your neck finally rights itself. 

You’re about to answer but slow your pace with a scrunched look of confusion as you exit. 

Passing through the front doors, you suddenly get a strange sensation in the back of your mind to turn around. The hairs along your arms stand up as a breeze passes the steadily chilling dark sky, but the way the shiver ran down your spine wasn’t due to cold. Lips thinning, you spare a glance over your shoulder and look along the brightly lit grocery store as its windows leave cascading rays of light over the sun-bleached concrete. The black asphalt of the parking lot is hard under your feet.

There are a handful of other patrons at the checkouts—mothers with children and others buying quick meals for dinner—but none are out of the ordinary. 

You huff and roll your shoulders.

Maybe the day’s just getting to me.

“Bonnie,” Johnny’s slightly concerned voice brings you blinking back, turning your head back to the sparsely lit parking lot and realizing you had stopped walking completely. Your hand was sweaty like you’d just run somewhere. Fixing your hold on the device, your boyfriend continues, “...Everything alright? You’ve gone all quiet over there.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you laugh dismissively, trudging forward to your car, “I just got the weirdest feeling right outside the grocery store.” 

The cart makes a loud rumbling sound as it goes over loose rocks and the bumpy texture of the asphalt, the metal rattling loudly so you have to strain your ears to hear Johnny’s next words. 

“What kind of feeling?” His drowned-out voice was so serious that it shocked you—you’d only ever heard him use a tone like this when he had briefly talked about nightmares that had woken him up in your shared bed. 

The Scot’s words were monotone, slow, and even if the sound of the cart’s wheels was raging all around you and making your skull rattle, you’d still swear you would identify that tone over a hurricane. It made your gut churn. 

“Really, it’s probably nothing,” you play off with a tense shrug he can’t see, coming to a stop at your car and reaching into your pocket for your keys. “I just got a chill.” 

Your eyes look around before you open the trunk, biting into your lip at the long shadows that the tall street lamps give off. Licking over your teeth, you bink dismissively and shake your head, unlocking the vehicle and huffing as you begin loading in your purchases. 

“Anyways,” you try to ignore the hard build of your spine or the way your eyes travel back to the brightly lit store. There wasn’t anyone out here but you and the dead forms of cars, trees off in the distance, and far-off lights of other buildings. You swallow and clear your throat. “I was thinking about getting us a dog.” 

“You’re not gettin’ out of this that—wait, did you say dog?” Across the world in a shitty bed, Johnny’s once concerned eyes widen, jaw going slack. “No way in Christ’s Hell, Dearie.”

“Oh, come on!” You groan, placing the second to last bag into the car and tuning your back to the street, throwing out your hand. “It doesn’t have to be a big dog—just one I can go on walks with and keep me company. I know you have a bad past with them, Love, but I just want someone to help not make the house so empty when you’re gone.” 

Your voice slides off near the end of the sentence, and you try not to sound so sullen. Johnny frowns as he stares into the far wall of the barracks over the heads of sleeping men, itching at the back of his neck. It was no secret that the Scot wasn’t particularly fond of canines—his encounters with them were almost never pleasant unless he knew the handler. 

But…

“I’ll think it over, eh, Bonnie?” He relents, sighing, and he thinks he hears snickers from a dark form in the distant corner. The Sergeant glares over at it and continues with a pang of internal guilt about how lonely you must feel most of the time. “Promise…but you’re more likely to get a cat dressed in a suit than a mangy mutt anytime soon.” 

You laugh at the attempt of a lighthearted joke, closing the trunk with a roll of your eyes. A breeze goes by and your arms erupt into shivers, clothes not enough to keep out the chill. 

“I’ll take it.” 

“Hm, you know,” Johnny smirks, rubbing at the sleep in his eyes and grunting out huskily, “there’s another way to make sure the house won’t be all quiet when I’m gone.”

“Keep it in your pants, MacTavish. You’re not even here yet.” Smiling through the heat of your cheeks, the skin of your cheeks glows; your body rolls with heat. “Save it for tomorrow.”

“What, am I gettin’ you all worked up over there?” He hums, and you grab your cart, pushing it into one of the specific areas where someone would grab it in the morning. “‘Cause I have no problem with waitin’, Dearie, all the more perfect when I get to be with ya.’”

“You wish, handsome.” Walking back to the slight rumbling of your car, you speak through tilted lips and completely miss the form walking up beside you. “I think that—”

“Excuse me?” 

Yelping, you nearly drop your phone to the floor as it slips out of your startled grip; heart jerking at the sudden intrusion into an intimate conversation. Swiftly turning around you spot the same man as before—the one with the blue cap that had passed by quite rudely in the store. His strong face looks sheepish.

Johnny quickly calls your name through the line, and you let off a reassurance before tilting the device down.

“Holy hell, man, give a girl a warning next time, yeah?” Chuckling weakly to push back tension and the twisting of your intestines, you notice the stranger’s tall frame is covered in a heavy jacket. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yeah, actually,” He’s not outwardly alarming to look at, the man, with his loose body gestures and controlled tone. “Sorry, but I was just wondering if you could lend me a hand. I found a kitten under a van back there,” he points, and you look over to the far corner of the parking lot. Sure enough, there was a large van surrounded by two black cars. Your eyes narrow on the scene, already getting a prickly feeling. “Do you have any food that might bring it out? Or maybe you’d be willing to reach under and grab the little bastard?” 

The stranger laughs and continues with a jerking of his shoulders. You watch every movement with an upticking pulse, fingers tight over the phone as Johnny listens with growing worry. 

The Sergeant's dark eyebrows pull tight, and he stands like he could run out the door to you; jaw tight and muscles wound.

“Put me on speaker.” You decline silently. Better not to get a hotheaded and protective Scot involved when he was thousands of miles away.

“Sorry,” Clearing your throat, you take a step back, attempting a friendly smile. “I have to get home to my husband.” It wasn’t the first time you’d had to use the spouse card to get away from creeps, and it won't be the last. Worked better than just the boyfriend title, honestly. And there was something about this man’s eyes that didn’t sit right with you. “Work night and all, you understand?”

“He left yet?” Johnny asks, gruff as his accent gets stronger. “Else I’m callin’ the store and sending security out to you.” 

“It shouldn’t take a long time,” the man begs and you take another slow step back to the car door, pupils going tiny. Breaths shallow. “You’ll be back to your…husband, in a few minutes. I’d hate to leave the poor guy all alone.” 

“Sorry.” You say again, firmer. “No.” 

Not wasting any time, you open the car and jump inside, wrenching it closed once more and pressing the lock. Breathing heavily, you stick the keys into the ignition, missing a couple of times, and look into the side mirrors to spy on the tall shadow that hovers like a plague. 

“Sweetheart? Hey?” Johnny calls out your name as you force the car to start driving away, face tight and limbs shaking. “Hey, are you alright?” 

The man has half the sense to wake up Price, but with the stirring bodies around him, there’s half a chance the Captain already knows something’s off. Johnny hadn’t bothered to check his noise level when the uncomfortableness seeped from you over to him. What kind of a man approaches a woman near dark and asks a question like that? The action didn’t sit right with the Scot. 

Johnny’s body hums with energy—volatile rage keeps his heart in a tight fist with a deep seething hatred of not being with you to help force back the freaks in person. He wasn’t above getting into someone's face if the situation called for it; after a couple of outings to less-than-nice pubs, all it took was a few nervous glances from you nowadays for him to create a barrier out of his own flesh.

“I’m okay,” you whisper to him, biting at your lips and peeling back flesh. “It’s all good. I-I’m on the road already.” 

A great weight falls from the man in the form of a sigh. He slowly sits back down on the mattress, lips thinning and slightly shaking his head. His free hand comes up to rub over his cheek. 

“Good. That’s good…” He snaps out of his concerned stupor quickly, but the fast beating of his heart does anything but slow. “You’re okay.” 

It wasn’t worded as a question, maybe more of a reassurance, but it helped you immensely. Your tension lessened at the comforting sound of Scottish drawl and deep, silver, voice. But you wanted him to wrap his arms around you; gaze into those cerulean orbs.

Tomorrow.

“Keep on the line until I get home?” You ask feebly, not able to resist looking in the mirrors as you turn out of the parking lot. 

The blue-capped stranger was still standing there, and one of the black cars in the far corner had turned its headlights on. A deep dread overtakes your ribs like you’d just gotten out of something very, very, bad. A sense of a lingering morality stays in between your ribs.

“‘Course. Wouldn’t be doin’ anything else, Bonnie.” Johnny utters, glaring at the floor. “I’ll be ‘ere the whole time.”

It wasn’t fair that he was unable to be there with you—never before had the constraints from his job hit him full strength in the chest like this. If he can’t protect the ones he loves back on the home field, then what was the point of the Task Force in the first place? 

By the time you get home after taking the fastest route, you quickly gather everything from the back and shuffle inside, pulse still racing. You lock the door behind you and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. 

Johnny’s soft breath over the call was like a lullaby, right in your ear as if he was beside you in bed. Oh, you missed his soft snores more than anything. Your gaze goes glossy, but the tears are held back stubbornly. 

As if sensing your turmoil, your boyfriend speaks lowly. 

“Y’know, I bet the rest of the boys would really love it if we kept ‘em over for a drink and a bite when we all get back. I can whip up something quick on the grill and you can take a breather, eh?” He speaks so softly it almost makes the tears worse, heart palpitating. 

You wetly laugh and place a hand to your mouth, standing in the dark foyer with groceries on the floor and a primal fear slowly leaving you. The familiar scents of charcoal and birch wood from the Scots hair product are stuck into the very walls of this shared dwelling, along with the scuffs on the floor from play-wrestling during movies; a light that needed to be replaced due to Johnny accidentally running straight into it at two am. He had thought an intruder had broken in, but it was just a bird that had snuck in through an open window.

The signs of a well-lived and loved home. 

“But you wanted pollock,” you grumble with a hidden smile and burning ears, pushing the tip of your shoe into the front rug.

Johnny beams and goes to lie back down, putting a hand behind his head against the pillow.

“Well, now I’m makin’ burgers. Guess you’re just going to have to sit back and watch my fabulous arse from the porch, yeah, Dearie? Don’t burn a hole into them, now, they’re the only pair I’ve got, and I know how much you like ‘em.”

“Shut up.” 

“I’ll even wear that apron you got me—what was it you said it did,” the cheeky Scot smirks, all teeth and crinkled eyelids, and hears your complaints get louder as your mind flies away from what had happened almost immediately. “Made me look like I should be in a porno? Hell, if you were in it with me, I’d not complain ‘bout it. Steamin’ Jesus, I’d let you do horrible things to me, Dearie.”

From somewhere in the barracks a low groan echoes out and Johnny snaps his hand down to stifle his loud laughter as you bark at him. 

“MacTavish!” 

Great bouts of laughter leave everyone glaring from atop pillows and from over fingers stuffed into ears; some even get up and gather blankets, leaving the barracks room entirely.

In your foyer, your body blazes with heat like you’d been set on fire, a hand placed over your eyes and a treacherous grin on your mouth. 

“Keep your voice down, you absolute arsepiece!”

“Aye—! That’s what I’m tryin’ to tell ya!” 

“Johnny!”

—

The second time you called him was out of pure curiosity, only a few hours before your lover was scheduled to come home and cook for you and his Task Force. Around six o'clock. 

“When was our postbox all scratched up?” Your thumb runs over the black numbers of the sequence, blinking with wrinkled skin as you take a glance at the neighbors’ and frown. No one else's was like that. “I thought you said you compromised with the local kids and would give them money for sweets so they would stop messing with our stuff?” 

“Little fiends were sucking me dry!” Johnny huffs, “No way the devils would pass up more sugar and do something like that. What’s it look like, then? A few stray rocks manage to dent it?”

Your lips release a sigh and you pick up your mail with an annoyed grunt, closing and locking the cubby as you reply. “No way, it looks like someone took a knife to it.” Clicking your tongue, you shake your head. “God, things have just been going wrong lately.”

Shuffling his feet over the tarmac and hearing the plane engines die down behind him, Johnny takes a glance back. Price was standing at the top of the C17 arms crossed and head tilted—the Scot could imagine the raised eyebrow almost immediately. 

He grimaces and holds up a finger, walking a few more steps away as Gaz leaves the hull with his bags slung over his shoulders. 

“I can’t talk any longer, Bonnie, Price’ll wring me for not helpin’ unload the gear. He’s damn near skinnin’ me already.”

You chuckle, “Tell him I said ‘hello’ and not to damage the face.” 

“Oh, you’re a horror, you are, Dearie.” 

Quick declarations of love and see you soons were exchanged before the connection was cut, and your feet carried you back into the house. Your phone and the mail went to sit on the tiny hallways table, shoes tossed onto the plastic mat sitting on the floor with a small thump. 

Sighing, you rub over your eyes, thinking over if it was worth calling the post office or just trying to fix the scratches yourself. 

“I think we have some paint in the garage…” You trail off. 

Ultimately, you just pushed that to the back burner. Johnny was coming home. Your lips peeled into a large smile, and you’re rushing off to get into a nice outfit for the rest of Task Force who was coming a bit later than your boyfriend. Thoughts of finally being able to be picked up by your boyfriend's strong arms were all-consuming, being held into a broad chest and digging your nails to the dip of his spine. 

Just being able to be around the mohawked-man was a blessing that you’d never take for granted. 

You settled on a nice top and casual pants—you’d met the others before, so there was no need to go overboard. Smoothing your clothes down, you enter the living room and go to open the curtains, letting the light of the interior spread to the small lawn and the street. Humming under your breath, the vehicle outside doesn’t catch your attention immediately; the black metal is just another parked entity sitting still. 

When you do pause, your curtains half-opened, the delayed shock makes you lose precious time as you stare slack-jawed at one of the twin cars from yesterday at the parking lot. Your fingers clench into the fabric in a sudden moment of frozen shock. As if a mythical creature had just run past your field of view, the parting of your lips is instinctual before the widening of your eyes. 

A still second passes before you’re sprinting to the front door—locking it and snatching your phone. Heart pounding, you make a dash to the bedroom, dialing Johnny with fear-tight pupils. 

He had told you if there was ever an emergency to call him right away, he’d get there faster than any police officer; for the record, you believed that wholeheartedly. Johnny was more loyal than a dog in a pack, once someone raised the alarm the Sergeant was locked in. 

Rushing into the bedroom, you trip over the tossed covers but right yourself as the dialing tone sounds out, heavy breathing making your lungs hurt. You open the nightstand table and dig under a collection of books, hand meeting the smooth metal of an M9 pistol. 

Putting the phone on speaker, you throw it onto the mattress.

Legally, you shouldn’t even have this—while Johnny had been teaching you to shoot, you didn’t have a license for it yet. But he’d insisted on leaving you behind with something to defend yourself with.

The confused voice of your lover sounds over the open space. “Jesus, Bonnie, you miss me that much? It cannae ‘ave been more than ten minutes—”

“The car from yesterday is outside the house.” You throw the books to the floor and hear them make a clatter just as you pull out a box of ammunition. Taking out the gun’s magazine, you load bullets with a violently shaking hand. Some hit the ground with a metallic ping, but you pay little attention, just blinking back anxious tears and a harsh focus on the sounds of the front door handle being jimmied.

“I…what?” Johnny’s voice gets heavier, demanding with a snarl trapped in the back of his throat. 

Standing stationary in the doorway Base—about a twenty-minute drive from home, the man’s heart suddenly jumps in his breast. Did he hear you right? Behind him, Ghost slows to a stop at the now blocked opening, watching with narrowed eyes; a large rifle slung over his shoulder and a carry bag in his arm. Johnny’s shoulders wind tight, feet parted as he suddenly turns on his heels and takes off back the way he came in, the phone still at his ear where the Lieutenant knew you were on the call.

“What the fuck?!” Ghost’s skeletal head follows after and pointedly notices the Scots lack of care for how his bags hit the ground but keeps the pistol holstered at his thigh and the combat knife strapped to his upper shoulder. 

“Johnny?” He calls out, but only the wind answers him. “The hell are you off to?!” The gargantuan man sends a glance over to Price who was watching just as intently, lids narrowed. Gaz cleared his throat.

“....Shouldn’t we follow him? Sounds pretty serious.” 

Price sighs, taking a moment to watch Soap sprint to the main building and shove past other soldiers and staff. He grunts.

“Move light.” 

The phone call was filled with heavy breathing and hurried orders. 

Your boyfriend was running you down the basics of firing at a moving target as the sound of pounding at the front door became more hurried.

“It’s not like a stationary target—when someone’s runnin’ at ya, they're gonna be moving quick and you’re not going to be able to fire if you don’t mean it!” 

“Okay, okay,” you mutter with a shaky inhalation, loading the M9’s magazine and clicking off the safety. “What the hell do they want with me?” The whispered question is more for you than it is for anyone else, but the answer from the sprinting Scot startles you. 

At that exact moment, the pounding of a fist stops completely.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re gonna fire at the first bastard that comes down that hallway. We’ll ask the questions later.” You hear a car door opening and a yell from Johnny’s side, soon the clammer of grunting breaths an exclamation of ‘hurry the fuck up!’

“I—”

“If you need to, leave through the window and go to the neighbors. Take cover in the foliage and slip away to the back alley.” Johnny never spoke like this to you—clipped and deathly serious. But now that you think about it, as you stay frozen and barricaded in the bedroom, if he spoke any differently you’d probably break down. “Do you copy?”

This was Sergeant MacTavish, and damn him if anything came between that man and the people he cared about. 

He barks your name, “Do you copy?!” 

“Yeah,” the gun shakes in your grip, but nonetheless you hold it at your hip and turn your eyes to the window. It would be easier to leave, you think. You’re not trained for this! “I–I think I’m going to—”

The front door’s window is broken with a shattering of glass. You rush to the phone and turn off the speaker, afraid that the sound would immediately tell these people where you were. Loud shouts flow into the foyer and spread like venom under the crack of the thin barrier separating you and the intruders. 

“Spread out and find her!”

“Yes, Sir!” 

Sir? You ask, eyes snapping this way and that as Johnny is dead silent on the other side. You think you hear the slam of a foot to the pedal, but you can’t be sure. Fuck, there was so much going on, you didn’t know what to do.

“Screw this, I’m going out the fucking window.” You gasp out, lungs tight and skin sweaty, you turn on the safety on the gun and stuff it into your belt. 

One-handed, you unlatch the lock and strain your ears, hearing feet getting closer. Grunting, you shove the heavy frame up and try to stop the ringing in your ears. Whoever these people in your house were—they were professionals. They had patience; studied your intellect with the trick in the parking lot and followed you home so they could mark your postbox number as a reminder of your address. What the hell was happening? 

Just as you’re about to make the small drop into the flower bed, a creak echoes from behind the bedroom door. You freeze in place, one foot dangling into the backyard. 

Breathing slowly, your eyes lock to the deep shadow that spreads like two distorted poles as the large feet face the very place you’d holed up. As delicately as you’re able with an award-setting tremor in your gut, you place the phone down onto the window sill; Johnny’s loud and worried voice dims as all attention moves to self-preservation. You’re just about to reach for your gun when the door busts off its hinges. 

Starling, and before your hands can find purchase, you’re tumbling backward—out of the house entirely with a stifled shout of alarm. Slamming to the ground and crushing flowers in the process, you have no time to think about the pain going up your spine or at the base of your skull before you’re scrambling for the M9. 

Just as someone peeks out from the window, face covered and holding an assault rifle, you’re firing three shots in rapid succession as you don’t even remember flicking off the safety. 

Two shots miss entirely, but on the last and final press of the trigger, as your arms catch the recoil, it connects. 

A comment is cut short as blood explodes in a great wave of velocity, coating the house upwards almost to the shingled roof. The body slumps, weight bringing it down to hang limp over the frame.

Wide-eyed, you still hold the shaking gun in the air, muzzle smoking, breathing fast through your mouth. Had you just…

Your stomach bunched, acid traveling up your throat to pool under your tongue. Perhaps you would have thrown up at that moment, the setting reality that you’d just shot someone in the head like an anvil in your pounding skull. But the barking voices from inside the house snap you back. 

Gasping down the breaths you realized you hadn’t been taking, your wobbly feet dart to shove you up like a newborn deer as sprinting bodies close in on the porch’s sliding door. God, you could only imagine what Johnny was thinking. 

Bolting out of your backyard fence, you remember your lover’s orders and run as fast as you’re able to the neighbor's open yard, using the darkening sky to help cover you. Cursing under your breath and thinking over all of the ways this should have already gone wrong, you wipe at the tears cascading down your cheeks. 

Don’t think about it—just get away.

It wasn’t long before you were down the alleyway, feet weak and lungs burning. There was a stickiness to the back of your scalp, blood, undoubtedly, from an injury caused by the fall.

It’s a damn miracle I didn’t break anything. 

What would you have done then? Just let those people take or kill you? You shiver at the idea and force yourself to go faster. Darting around a corner, your feet skid to a quick halt. 

The barrel of a gun was pointed directly at your face. 

“Had a feeling you’d be slippery.” It was the voice of the man from the parking lot—the man with the blue cap. Your face jerks to an imitation of confined horror and unease at the same eyes boring into you. He was dressed in gear like the rest of the men now exiting your house to hunt you down. The stranger shifts his feet and you flinch. “Drop the gun, Sweetheart.” 

“Who the fuck are you?” You find your voice, hissing out. The pistol clatters to the floor as it slips from your grip and you hate how you flinch at the sound. 

“Your boyfriend and his buddies are hard to track down.” Blue Cap huffs, and the tall stature of the man makes you incredibly nervous. Backing up a step instinctually, he follows and smirks. “But I figured the best way to meet him was to find his little bird first—he’d come right to me. Cliche, I know, but you can’t fault me. Works every time.” 

What did this guy want with your Johnny? Gritting your teeth, your fingers shake at your sides, hips tense and ready to run.

“He’ll kill you.” You level, not keen to show this man how disgusting you felt being near him. 

He shuffles up next to you, grabbing the meat of your arm. Trying to jerk away, the barrel of his weapon is shoved into your ribs; gasping, your body goes rigid.

If your heart goes any faster, it’ll break.

“Not if I threaten to kill you first.” Forcing you forward, you glare and feel the urge to spit in the man’s face. “C’mon, hun.”

“Don’t fucking call me that, freak.” 

“Ooo…fangs. Can’t be surprised, you did shoot one of my men, after all. Not a bad trigger finger, but you do need decent work on your accuracy if you wanna make anything out of it.” Your eyebrows pull in as you’re corralled back out of the alleyway, barrel bruising your skin and blood dripping down your neck. The man’s grip hurts as a strangled whimper falls from your bitten lips. 

Feet scraping over concrete, you’re brought out into the street as neighbors peak out of windows with drawn curtains; phones to their faces. Did these intruders not care about the police? If anything, that made you sweat more. 

“Ride’s waiting.” 

“I’m not getting into that.” Grunting, your eyes are stuck on the black void of the car parked in the street. A menagerie of other armed men stands all over. “Hell no—you can just shoot me now if that’s the case.”

“Don’t tempt me, I can still go after the Sergeant’s dear old mom,” your lungs chill as the man chuckles to himself, looking down at you through dark lashes. “He has a cousin, too, am I right?” 

Rageful tears spark behind your lids as you blink. 

No way it was going to go like this. Where’s Johnny? 

The gun was taken from your ribs as you’re shoved forward. 

“Get in. Now. We’re already behind schedule.” You stare into the interior and clench your fists, lips quivering but jaw clenched. Your Lover’s voice comes to you, sure of himself and laced with stubbornness. 

If you’re ever in trouble, you wait for me, Dearie. I’ll be there ‘fore you know it, ready to defend your honor like the knight in shinin’ armor I am, eh? Why are you laughing…?

Turning back around with every ounce of courage you can muster, you splay your feet and cross your arms.

“No.” The gun is raised to your head, and you want to flinch back in terror but restrain yourself. 

“Get in.” 

“No.” How your voice wasn’t breaking was a question in and of itself, but Johnny had always said you were stubborn like him. Best time to prove him right was with a barrel to your face, apparently.

The stranger’s eyes light with anger, hands clenching over the body of the weapon as the rest of his men stare on in shock. A growl meets air.

“I’m not asking for a third time, Sweetheart—” One loud boom later and you’re ducking down with your hands over your head, ears ringing and body unsteady; a great weight hits the ground right next to you.

The sound of gunfire rattles the world all around the once quiet street, and you think that you and your Lover will have to move after this. No way the neighbors could let all this slide. Looking up, your eyes jump from the corpse spasming near you to the running men, chaos breeding in the lines between shouts and dropping bodies. 

A hand latches into your waist, and you’re being lifted into strong arms moments later. Squealing, your head snaps to the size and meets cerulean blue inlaid in a strong brow line. 

“I’ve got ya.” Your body loses all tension at the accent that you would know anywhere, even in death, a strong grip picking you up and keeping you close to his broad chest. 

Johnny carries you away in the midst of battle as the rest of the 141 get involved, making quick work of the remaining men. Breathing in his scent, you force your face under his chin, feeling the stubble scrape as your fingers dig into flesh. 

He’s here. He’s—he’s right here.

“Don’t worry, Dearie, I’m right here. It’s nearly over, now.” You try to bring him closer as he takes cover behind a wall, pressing his shoulders against the grating stone as he shields you closer to him. Sliding down to the ground.

His eyes snap back and forth, heart rapid. God, he was nearly too late. Johnny presses his nose into your hair as he breathes deeply, watching bodies fall and feeling you shake. Feeling you shiver; now finally able to let everything sink in. 

“Shh,” the Scot mutters, pressing you closer as you whisper his name in a hoarse breath. “You’re alright. I’m ‘ere, Bonnie, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” His hands filter over your skin, checking for injuries and feeling over growing bumps from under-the-skin abrasions.

His teeth clench together in hate, hotheadedness taking over for a moment as part of him wants to rush out and pick a few of these bastards off himself. But it’s just not that simple. 

Looking out into the street with serious eyes, the radio attached to his vest sounds off as the last of the firefight ends almost as quickly as it began. 

“Clear.” It was Price. “How is she?” 

Johnny sighs, looking down at you in his hold as he whispers comforting words in quick succession.

“Shaken, but alright…” The reply is muttered as you sniffle, your fingers going to wipe away tears. “She’s—she’s alright.”

Johnny beats you to it as he tries to calm down, large digits tilting your head to the side and studying intently as he swipes them away with a firm thumb and a careful frown. 

“Johnny—” Your eyes stay locked on him as the Scot gets rid of any trace of fear or sadness, calluses burning your skin just as they always did. His gaze flickers to you; lips pulling tight. None of you choose to move, too content with being this close to one another and safe, even if the situation was serious. “I…”

You trail, not even knowing what to say as the wetness of your eyes blurs your vision, body hot, and the back of your skull aching. Your hands go to cup his cheeks. It’s all the words he needs. 

Eyes soft, the Sergeant attempts a weak and worried smile. “I’m so proud of you, Dearie, y’know that? So damn proud.” Your lips quirk, a strained laugh echoing out. A finger pokes the side of your nose. “Hey, I’m serious now. Stop your foolin'.” 

Johnny’s fingers run deep circles into your temples as you trace the lines of his cheeks. 

“Shut up.” You huff, straining against a wide smile. It was easy to push all of this behind you when you were looking at him. He made everything better.

“Hm,” He moves forward and presses his lips to your forehead, quickly going to lay kisses all over your face until giggles spill out from the alleyway to the waiting three. 

Gaz smiles to himself, Price grunts lightly, and Ghost gazes off. 

“I’ll just have to prove to my Bonnie Little Lady that she’s a prime piece of work, then, eh? Smarter; more quick than a fuckin’ recon team,” he leans close and you have to try and shove him away playfully when he starts to squish you against him. Your laughter grows as his scratchy chin nuzzles your neck. “And don’t mind me sayin’ now, but a proper fine pair of tits and arse to go along with the brains of ya, Dearie.”

“MacTavish!” you squeal, “I should call your mother up and explain how you speak to me—that’s vulgar! I know for a fact she didn’t teach you that.”

“Teach me? Oh, now, then, no one could teach me a thing when you’re around. Cannae think a bit; better off talkin’ to a pile of stone.” You punch his solid chest and laugh so hard your face hurts, breath fanning against his neck as his roaming praise continues as if his mind was a bag of water punctured by a knife. “I’m always thinkin’ ‘bout you, my Little Bonnie.” 

The last sentence is quietly muttered into your temple, a kiss pressed tight. He pulls back slightly and feels at the dried blood on your locks, fingers separating to find the scalp. Johnny’s chest rattles in a sigh, hand shaking slightly when he sees it. 

He’d also seen the body on the window sill, though he knows not to mention it.

Christ, you’d had to kill someone. 

The prospect of taking a life was easy to the Scot—some days he felt like he had been born and bred to do just that. It became simple. Elementary. Like his mother could memorize a recipe, he could memorize the position of arteries; what shot to take at that instant, and which to wait on based only on past missions that resonated like past lives.

But for you…

Oh, it was never supposed to happen to you.

“Are you alright?” Johnny breaths, humor gone and left with guilt. 

He feels your lips on his raging pulse and lets his eyes close, content to feel you move against him as your head remains in his neck. Shifting his body into a more comfortable position, he cages you in protectively. Never again would he allow this to happen.

“I shot someone.” The man’s lips quivered, heart hurting at the blatant shock in your voice. It hadn’t hit you yet, and, hell, Johnny still remembered his first kill like it was yesterday. It wouldn’t be good when all this calmed down. He’d thrown up for two days straight, himself.

“Aye.” He breathes.

“His blood’s all over the house.”

“It is.”

“Is…is that,” you’re shivering, so he massages your spine soothingly until you find the words. “Is that a good thing?” 

He should say no, tell you that the situation that you’d been put in was never supposed to happen and it was just an unfortunate reality. Death wasn’t a good thing, per se. But the man had broken into your shared home—busted down the bedroom door with the intent of using you as a bargaining chip to get to him. So, to the Scot, the answer is clear.

No one messed with his family and lived.

“Yes.” Taking down the air of a dusty alleyway as sirens wail a street over, you weren't surprised that your boyfriend had managed to get to your home far faster than the police could. He said he always would, didn’t he? 

The bills for the speeding tickets and the running of red lights were going to be atrocious.

“Okay.” Your answer is muttered as you peel back, pressing a kiss to the corner of Johnny’s lips. You believed him. Always would. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me.” His bright teeth show off a smile as your mirror. He kisses you heavily on the lips. Whispers against your lips, a promise. A vow. “As long as you put up with me, I’ll always keep you safe.”

“Soap,” Price yells, snapping the two of you out of it. “Get on with it!” 

The Scot raises a shocked brow and smirks down at you as you tilt your head and listen in happy confusion. 

“Y’know, those shots weren't half bad back there. ‘Specially after takin’ a tumble into the flowers.” Your expression freezes in denial as you’re lifted bridal style into the air. Speaking over the calls of police and firemen as they come to the scene, your voice monotones as your legs swing.

“...I missed two out of the three, you dork. That’s failing.” Johnny gapes in mock surprise and you refrain from snorting at the boyish glint in his eyes.

“Jesus, is it really? Hell, you’ll be comin’ for my job in no time, won’t ya? That’s one better than me!” 

You kiss him and feel the grunt through your lips.

TAGS ||

@blueoorchid, @jxvipike, @revrse, @shuttlelauncher81, @bruhhvv, @kittiowolf210, @aerangi, @spikespiegell, @ghost-with-a-teacup, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore, @uberraschungg, @neelehksttr, @shoe1412,@jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet​, @pukbadger, @omeganixtra, @nanialis, @gills-lounge, @voidinfernal, @sukunas-left-nut-sack, @untoldshortsofthefandoms, @batmanunicorns523, @icepancakes, @copiasratscheese, @besas-stuff, @marytvirgin, @misfne, @halfmoth-halfman, @lothiriel9, @anna-banana27, @jade-jax, @cl0wncxre, @emerald-valkyrie, @michirulol, @330bpm-whiplash, @lora21, @bespectacledhuman, @wolfyland07, @dilfsaremyfavourite, @astronaunt2009, @shmaptin, @levietc, @kk19pls, @semieitabby, @thriving-n-jiving, @cringe-kats, @n1choles, @gaychaosgremlin, @johnpricesprincess, @haleypearce,

[preeningpisces]

Geto NSFW Headcanons

Im gonna try not to be biased because this is my main bitch right here 🖤

Lemme know if you want me to elaborate or write about any of these headcanons

(literally any ask about Geto will make me do somersaults—backflips, even)

18+ content below the cut, mdni, implied chubby f!reader

Pre-Incident

꩜ Geto is interesting because before he snaps and after he snaps feel like two different vibes in regards to sex

꩜ Doting, almost like a service-dom. He likes taking care of you, but he also prefers to have control. Though not so controlling that he can’t ever be submissive

꩜ Major smooth-talker, like Gojo said, he has a silver tongue. Likes a mixture of praise and degradation. The degradation is usually teasing, and doesn’t extend past the usual slut, whore, etc. range…usually

꩜ Sometimes it comes out corny tho lmfao pls roast him when it does

꩜ Good at making you feel sexy. The type that will kiss you all over, giving extra affection to areas you aren’t as fond of. It’s difficult at first, but with time you become more comfortable

꩜ Very sensual, and intimate. He has good self-control, & is very patient so he can draw things out & drive you crazy. Like he can spend all-too-long just toying with your mouth, denying you the kiss you so desperately want. Barely brushing your lips and teeth with his thumb, before pinching your tongue between fingers. Wowee

꩜ Refuses to kiss you after absorbing curses. Even though no one else can taste them, the thought of tasting like that is enough for for him to refuse; he doesn’t want you to go through it too. Also, tasting shit-vomit in your mouth doesn’t exactly get the schlong schlinging, yknow

꩜ I suspect absorbing curses gives him an immediate surge of negative emotions, so he usually needs space. Sometimes he just wants to hold you, or be held, in silence

꩜ Can be surprisingly playful in bed

꩜ Really likes fucking you from below. Smooshing your soft breasts and stomach against him, and feeling your weight on top of him. Holding you still so he can rail you while whispering sappy, dirty shit in your ear. I’m passing out someone help

꩜ I’ve been poisoned by the perv!geto fics on here, and can’t see him as not being a secret pervert. Just slightly. It takes a while for him to reveal that side to you, since he tries to appear refined and respectable

꩜ Definitely the type that likes music in the background; I see him as someone who cares about music a lot in general. You know he likes you if he’s sharing song recs

꩜ Lots of playlists, and even has a few sex playlists with different moods. Usually prefers things that are chill, but has a few harder-hitting songs—this is why he needs the playlists, lol. He doesn’t like when the vibe changes too much

꩜ One time you sneak Cbat onto his playlist & make him laugh so much he loses his boner. At that point did you really win? Hmm?

꩜ Tbh he’s got game & is aware of it. You gotta humble him occasionally or else he becomes insufferable

Post-Incident

꩜ This Geto is a lot more self-centered, aggressive, and sadistic in bed. I wouldn’t say he’s a tyrant tho

꩜ Will legit punish you when you disobey, no funishments here. Big into humiliation

꩜ My heart is telling me shibari, especially the kind that can be hidden beneath clothes. Particular about the color, and will pick ones that flatter your skin tone. Obsessed with the way the ropes pinch and dig into your soft body. He’ll bite and squeeze the parts that spill over the ropes

꩜ One punishment would be walking around secretly tied up, but the style where one of the ropes rubs against your pussy as you walk. It sounds nice at first, but that bitch is gonna chafe for sure

꩜ He’s more selfish than before, yes, but he still maintains a proclivity for doting—we all see how he spoils his daughters! It’s like, he gets his turn first, and when it’s your turn, it's your turn. Multiple orgasm king. He’ll do it until you’re sobbing tho, so pray for your pussy

꩜ Loves making you choke on his cock—gets kind of intense with the bjs. Mfer needs to chill (and buy you some throat lozenges)

꩜ Doggystyle is his favorite without a doubt, he just wants to pin your face to the bed and watch your ass bounce

꩜ A lot of the previous stuff is still applicable to some degree, but I think he has a lot less patience at this point, and is waaaay more into degradation & domination

꩜ He gets legitimately mean sometimes lmfao it’s like you gotta have 2 safewords: one for physical intensity level, and the other for bullying level 😭

꩜ Would he sleep with a non-sorcerer? Honestly, I can’t decide. If he did tho, he would be SO FUCKING MEAN I don’t even want to think about it !!!

꩜ Does he use monkey in bed unironically?? Chat pls advise

[act-nat-ural]

hii! I’ve been in a Kageyama and Suna mood lately, could I be so vague as to ask for anything cute for either of them? I love your writing, I’m so glad you started posting!💕

Alphabet Dating

note: thank u for the kind words :’) means so much. I hope you enjoy this :p I might turn this into a series for the rest of the alphabet tbh.

word count: 1680

Though you and Tobio cherished each other dearly, you both had to admit your dating life had gotten a bit plain. In the beginning of your relationship, you used to go on exciting dates with each other as often as you could. It’s not like you don’t still love each other, you just have gotten used to staying in together. You were both cuddled together in bed, each during your respective things. He was currently flipping through one of his volleyball magazines, as you were scrolling on your phone. Suddenly, a video popped up on your feed.

“Tobio, look! We should totally do this.” You say excitedly. He puts his magazine down and scoots closer to see what you're referring to. It's a video of a couple talking about ‘Alphabet dates’. “Basically, each week they go on a date based on a letter of the alphabet. Like, for ‘A’ we could go to the arcade or something. Does that seem fun to you?” You give him a hopeful smile. He nods, just as excited. 

“Yeah. How do we decide what to do, though?” You hum thoughtfully. 

“I guess we could split the letters, so I pick some and you pick some. That way we both get a say.” 

“That sounds fair. Good idea, baby.” You sigh contentedly, resting your head on his chest. 

“I know. I’m full of them.”

–

A- Arcade: The first week, you both agreed that you would get to pick, and he would pick next week’s date. You had already used it as an example, so you thought you might as well go to the arcade. That, and you know how much Tobio loves a good competition. You were holding hands as you and him entered the building. 

“I’ll go get us some tokens.” He kisses your head and jogs to the counter. 

You leaned against the game machines, scanning the bright, flashing lights and sounds that filled the room. The arcade was busier than you expected, with groups of people laughing and yelling out in excitement as they played. Tobio returned with a handful of tokens, his usual confident smile in place.

“Alright, which one should we start with?” he asked, holding out the tokens.

You grinned mischievously, pointing toward the racing game in the corner. “You’re on. But I warn you, I’m really good at this.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not impressed. “You think so? I’ll show you how it’s done.”

The race began, and you immediately shot ahead of him, your fingers flying over the controls. Tobio, despite his competitive nature, was caught off guard, but he quickly adjusted. You could hear him muttering under his breath as he tried to catch up.

“You’re not going to beat me that easily,” he said, his voice full of determination.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “We’ll see about that, Tobio!”

The race ended with you narrowly winning, and Tobio let out a dramatic groan, shaking his head in mock frustration. “Okay, okay, you won this round. But I’ll take the next one.”

You could tell he was enjoying himself, even if he didn’t want to admit it. After a few more rounds of games—some you won, some he did—you both wandered around, playing everything from claw machines to rhythm games. At one point, you even challenged him to a dance-off on one of the dance machines, and though you got a few more perfect steps than him, it was clear he was having fun.

As the night wore on, you both were out of tokens and laughing, your competitive streaks fading into a comfortable camaraderie.

“Thanks for agreeing to this,” you said, leaning into him as you walked toward the exit. 

He kissed your forehead again, a rare soft smile on his lips. “This was fun. We should definitely do this again.”

–

B- Bowling: The next week, it was Tobio’s turn to pick, and of course, he chose something that could fuel his competitive nature—bowling. You arrived at the bowling alley, the neon lights casting a soft glow across the floor, and Tobio immediately headed for the counter to get your shoes. 

“Why do we always have to wear these ugly shoes?” you muttered, wiggling your feet in the bright orange pair.

Tobio smirked at you. “It’s part of the experience. Deal with it.”

You rolled your eyes but accepted your fate. After a quick warm-up, you were both standing at the lane, picking out your bowling balls. Tobio’s form was impeccable, smooth and practiced, and you couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly he lined up his shots. 

He grinned as the ball rolled down the lane, knocking down nearly all the pins. “Your turn,” he said with a smug look.

You were determined to show him that you could be just as good. You stepped up, took a deep breath, and threw your ball with confidence. Unfortunately, it veered slightly to the left and only knocked down a few pins. 

Tobio’s smirk widened. “Oof. Better luck next time.”

You stuck your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

For the next few frames, it was a back-and-forth between you, with a lot of joking and laughing, and a bit of trash talk from both sides. At one point, you even managed to throw a perfect strike, which you proudly pointed out to Tobio, who merely nodded in approval.

The game continued, and by the final frame, you were trailing behind by just a few points. “You’re not going to beat me now,” Tobio said, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

But with a wink, you proved him wrong, hitting another strike to seal the win. “Guess I did.”

He shot you an exaggerated glare. “Lucky shot,” he muttered, but his smile betrayed how much he enjoyed the friendly competition.

“Maybe,” you said, slipping your hand into his as you walked toward the exit. “But I still won. So, how does that feel?”

“Fine,” he sighed dramatically, “But next time, I’m definitely beating you.”

–

C- Cooking Class: It was your turn to pick, and after thinking for a moment, you suggested something that would definitely get Tobio’s attention: a cooking class. When you mentioned that the class would teach you both how to make curry, Tobio’s eyes lit up, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. You knew his love for curry was well-known, but you also knew he'd never pass up the chance to learn how to make it from scratch.

“Curry?” he asked, sounding pleasantly surprised. “That sounds... interesting.”

You smiled. “Well, it’s your favorite food, right? I thought it’d be fun to learn how to make it together.”

Tobio nodded, clearly warming to the idea. “Alright, I’m in. As long as I get to eat it afterward.”

That settled it. You booked the class, and soon you found yourselves standing in a cozy kitchen studio, surrounded by the scent of fresh herbs and spices. There were a few other couples in the room, all eager to learn how to make the perfect curry.

The instructor, a cheerful woman with an easy smile, introduced herself and began guiding everyone through the process. Tobio was already paying close attention, his eyes narrowing slightly in concentration. 

As the class went on, you and Tobio worked well together, passing ingredients back and forth and making sure everything was perfectly seasoned. By the end of the class, you had created a beautiful serving of pork curry.

The couple next to you complimented your dish, and even Tobio seemed impressed with your teamwork. You smiled up at him. “See? That wasn’t so bad, right?”

He looked down at you, eyes softening. “I’ll admit, it was kind of fun. Maybe we should do more of these.”

You grinned, feeling the warmth of the evening. “Maybe next time, we can cook something for just the two of us.”

He smiled, clearly content. “Deal.”

–

D- Dancing: By now, you were both getting into the rhythm of trying new activities together. For the letter ‘D’, Tobio had picked dancing—something neither of you had much experience in, but it seemed fun.

You both showed up at a local dance studio for a beginner’s salsa class. Tobio was clearly nervous, glancing around at the other couples who seemed to know what they were doing. “I don’t know if I’m cut out for this,” he admitted, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

You chuckled, stepping closer to him. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you. We’ll just have fun.”

The class began, and the instructor walked everyone through the basic steps. You and Tobio stumbled through the movements at first, your feet not quite in sync. Tobio was a little stiff, but after a few tries, he started to loosen up.

“See? You’re doing better,” you said with a laugh as you spun under his arm.

“Yeah, I’m not as bad as I thought,” he replied, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips.

By the end of the class, you both managed to keep up with the routine, laughing at your missteps and high-fiving after you nailed a particularly difficult spin.

“You know,” Tobio said as the class ended, “this wasn’t half bad.”

You leaned against him, smiling. “I told you. We should do more of this kind of thing.”

Tobio smirked and kissed your lips. “Maybe. We’ll just have to see.”

–

You two had just gotten home from your dance class, and as you were taking off your shoes you heard him let out a deep sigh. You turn to him, eyebrow raised. “Yes? What’s bothering you?” He gives a slightly embarrassed look and mumbles something. “Huh?”

He sighs again and says louder, “I said I wish we could skip to ‘V’.” You blink in confusion. 

“Why? That’s weeks away.” He pouts. 

“I want to teach you how to play volleyball.” You let out a laugh and rest your hand on his cheek. 

“Tobio, you realize we could do that any day we wanted, right?” His mouth opens and closes before he tries to play it off.

“Psh. Yeah. I knew that.”

[goldtheorys]

Flufftober day 10: Gift giving

Ticci toby x gn reader

_Hiiiii sorry for disappearing I’ve never posted my writing before (cause I haven’t written in like years lol) so I haven’t felt that dedicated.

_Using the 2023 flufftober cause I like it the best

══════════════════ -`♡´-

Lately, you had noticed Toby seemed to be a bit down. He had become more clingy as of late, but his gaze was always downcast. He rarely responded to your words with more than a hum and a nod. You had to check on him more than often to see if he had ate, drank and slept. You urged him to go on walks with you, to play a video game with you, but they only seemed to lift his mood for a short while.

It hurt to see him in such a depressive state. An idea had popped into your head from something he had been rambling about before. After scouring through a few stores, you had a small but hopefully meaningful group of gifts, put in a simple beige basket you had hastefully grabbed from a clearance aisle. Hurrying back home to him, you fumbled with the door for a moment before scurrying in.

No sounds signaled Toby had gotten up to greet you, so you carefully held the basket behind yourself, creeping through your small but comfortable shared home. Peeking around corners, you finally found him on the couch in the living room. At first you had mistaken him to be asleep, but when the floor creaked under your weight he lifted his head, looking at you under his eyelashes.

“Hello, lovely” you murmur, shifting to make sure the gifts would stay hidden until their grand reveal.

He sat up fully now, pushing his bangs back to look at you more clearly. He blinked a few times before his vision focused, and his gaze immediately locked on how you suspiciously held your hands behind your back.

“Hey. What you g-got there?” he inquires, slinging an arm over the couch as he rests his head on top of the cushion, face slightly smooshed.

You laughed lightly before pulling your hands from behind your back, presenting the hastily made gift basket. He lifted his head in curiosity, peering into it. He smiled once he viewed the contents, hand reaching out to gently take it from you. You walked over and slid into the spot next to him, leaning against his arm as he sat the box in his lap to sort through your presents, his face finally beaming with joy. He was still quiet, only noting something about a gift when he found it particularly pleasing, but it was all you needed to know your trip was a success.

The last thing he took out was a movie, gasping when he saw the cover to realize it was his most recent favorite. He turned to you, eyes crinkling at the edges as he wrapped you in a hug. You wrapped your arms around him, grinning from ear to ear.

“I take it you liked all of them?” You question as you pull back, hands still resting on his waist.

“No, I hate ‘em,” he replies sarcastically before planting a kiss on your cheek.

Ah, well, at least this obviously helped make his day. In the meantime, you should probably go start making popcorn. Toby had already walked over to the disc player to watch the movie.

══════════════════ -`♡´-

_Yuuuuck this is so bad. I kinda rushed it and tbh had trouble with how to go about the gift giving prompt, but hopefully it’s still enjoyable!

(⌒_⌒;) hope I can keep up and write some more stuff like this throughout the month.

_PS sorry for how short it is 😧 I’ll try to make them longer from now on

[ratlikeclown]

WIP Wolverine x femReader 18+

“God, do you ever suck on anything other than Wade’s dick and cheap cigars?”

He leaned in close to your ear and growled,

“Ya lookin to find out Princess?”

x Deadpool kinda eventually lmfaoooo

FemY/n is mid 20’s - early 30’s

Tw for depression and like drug use mentions ig

🌶️🫵

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

Hello 👋 This is the first fanfic that I have written in over 10 years the brain rot is so unbelievably real for wolverine and deadpool rn

its a little embarrassing tbh lmfaoo

—————————

I’m not really sure how to tag this tbh. I’ve never posted on tumblr. . It’s a little spicy and will get more interesting later. I just wanted to toss this small part out for readers to test the waters. Anyway um I’m not experienced writing y/n pov so please be nice.

Your friend, Wade Wilson, couldn’t take no for an answer. You knew that and yet you still had the audacity to tell him ‘no’ three times tonight. And about thirty minutes after you ignored his last phone call there he was, practically knocking down your door. It wasn’t like he couldn’t actually kick in your door, he was just being polite. 

The apartment buzzer went off. You sat up from your position on the couch, hoping he’d just give up and leave if you didn’t acknowledge him. Like a stray cat. Or a crackhead.

“Knock knock~” you heard his voice through the door. “I smell Hot Pockets and sadness I know you’re in there”

Gripping the arm of the sofa you waited hoping he’d have the common courtesy fuck off .You heard the door knob rattle. Dumbass.

With a click of the lock, your door swung open revealing Wade, grinning as he shoved his Baby Knife back into his coat.

“Wade, what the fuck? I told you-“

He clapped his hands loudly, interrupting you.

 “Let’s go Funshine Bear, the nights young and I’m not going anywhere without you” Wade marched past you, straight to your bedroom humming to himself.

“You look awful by the way, we’ll fix you up though.” He clicked his tongue and crooked a finger in your direction. You huffed angrily, sliding off the couch to follow him. 

You stopped in the doorway, almost refusing to step inside. He was elbows deep in your closet drawers, throwing clothes onto your bed, muttering his disapproval at every item he tossed.

You crossed your arms as you watched him. 

“Do you have anything that doesn’t look like you took it from the Walmart dumpster?” He pulled a drawer out from the dresser and dumped it on the floor. “You know the one I’m talking about, right? Where all the coke addicted bronies go to have a bone sess before band practice.”

You crossed your arms as you watched him. “Wade, I’m not in the mood to go out.”

You heard him sigh, but continued to riffle through your things. 

“That’s nonsense, the plot can’t continue with out you. Annnd we made these plans last week.”

He peeked at you from behind the open closet door. “I’m a little worried about you. You aren’t your chipper self lately”

“I’m just tired” You replied dismissively.

It wasn’t like Wade hasn’t been trying to cheer you up in his own way. For the last few weeks he’d text you obscure and quite frankly disturbing memes at 3 AM. Excitedly offer you drugs that he’s pilfered from the his blind roommate- (he knows you don’t do drugs, he just wanted to brag about stealing coke from Blind Al)

He’s also been sending you the strangest X-Men fan fiction. (His favorites were ‘old man yaoi’ including Professor Xavier and Magneto) Usually you eat that kind of stuff up, finding it funny that you knew some of the people that the fanfiction was written about, like a private joke between you and Deadpool. But worst thing he’s done has beencalling you almost every day and attempting to make plans with you, but you always seem to cancel last minute. So yeah, he has been trying. It just.. didn’t help.

Your eyes flickered to your wall of photos next to the closet door.  Pictures of your closest friends and family. Their arms around you laughing, smiling. Pictures of trips and silly outings that meant the world to you. You felt so much guilt and regret looking at them.

Depression was a bitch. It was like a rabid dog that wouldn’t let you get back on your feet. You felt it gnawing at you, causing you to lose interest in everyone and everything. You felt alone. Your eyes fell back to Wade, you watched your friend hard at work trying to match your shoes with a dress he had found. He was clueless. You couldn’t tell him any of this though, it would just make him worry more.

There was someone you did want to talk to though. To tell everything to. Someone that you had grown so close to the last few months.

You missed Logan.

This realization caused your face to heat and anxiety weld up in your chest. You balled your hands into fits thinking about that arrogant jerk. You’ve tried to be a friend to Wolverine. After all this wasn’t his reality. He was your timeline’s replacement. (Idk you should go watch the movie. I’m not explaining it.) and for a while, you thought you were friends.

Lately, if he wasn’t drunk and depressingly moody, he was angry and a massive dick. 

“Y/N? Look a little pink at the cheeks are you feeling OK?” Wade was now standing less than a foot from you, his brows furrowed. You hadn’t noticed him move.

Snapping back from your thoughts by Wades voice, you ran hands over your face as you turn towards the attached bathroom.

“Dude, I told you I’m just not feeling good-” You stepped into the bathroom and turned on the faucet “I don’t wanna hang out with-“

“Logan?”

“Your friends.” You finished. You felt your face flush deeper at his name being mentioned.

“That’s what I said” Wade followed you to the bathroom, but thankfully didn’t come in. He stood outside while you closed the door. 

“Trust me honey, I know he’s the embodiment of a sentient happiness starved cactus whose father never loved him but-“

You groaned, trying to avoid Wades ramblings you turned the water on full blast, drowning out the remainder of his sentence. You splashed water on your face and ran a comb through your hair. You heard Wade continue talking, almost to himself while also sounding like he was talking to someone else in the room  as well. Someone you couldn’t see. He did that often. It was creepy.

You swung the door open frowning.

“-sometimes he stabs me through the face to shut me up, but I know he does it because he’s not good with words.”

Wade smile faded when he saw your face. 

“It’s kinda hot”

“I don’t want to talk about it Wade.” You sat down onto your bed with a huff despite the pile of clothes and plastic hangers. You stared at your hands. You felt the overwhelming weight of your anxiety in your chest and stomach. Maybe you should go out. Maybe he won’t show up tonight. Maybe-

“You look like you wanna talk about it Friendo.”

Wade joined you by dramatically pushing all the clothes off the bed, making an even bigger mess of your room. He flopped down onto your bed stomach first, propping himself up by his elbows. He kicked his feet and smiled at you.

“I’m all ears.”

“I don’t know how to start” You admitted.

“Start with an ‘I feel’ statement” 

Another sigh escaped your mouth. How did you feel? It felt complicated. You met him a few months ago. At first he was rude and closed off. Then he slowly began to open up, sure you still bickered and fought like cats, but it had playful undertones. (‘Sexy undertones’ Wade had joked) When he was being genuine and open, it felt like you could talk to him for hours. Though he never spoke for too long, he would to listen to you earnestly. Up until a few weeks ago, that is.

“I feel like Logan hates me. I feel like he would rather huff paint thinner than have a decent conversation with me.”

Wade laughed. “Well that’s not true, I can’t get him to huff anything.”

You shot him a look.

“Listen, I invite Mr. Grumpy out every time. But he’s too busy sulking to get fucked up with us. He would rather get drunk and pass out in the floor of the apartment. He probably won’t even show up.” Wade gave you a reassuring look.

“If he does you’re gonna be there with me. We’ll leave if you feel uncomfortable at all.”

He rolled over and sat up, putting an arm around you.

“I’ve just noticed your mood lately I need you to know that I love you.” He gave your shoulder a squeeze.  “-and I miss getting fucked up with you.”

“Will you stab him for me if he’s mean?”

“Of course. I always have Baby Knife on me.”

“Fine. Let me get ready”

He jumped off the bed excitedly.

You pushed Wade out the door to get dressed, pausing in the doorway. “Wade?”

“Yes Friendo?” He turned on his heel

“I love you too bud”

He squealed as you closed the door.

~~~

You never understood why Wade wouldn’t just buy a car. He makes decent money (he doesn’t) and could probably afford a nice one. (He couldn’t) At one point you recall him having a weird hyperfixation with the Honda Odyssey (he fucked Wolverine in one) (allegedly)

Instead, you were climbing into the back of a dirty beat up taxi cab that his friend, Dopinder, drove for a living. At least you didn’t have to walk. Dopinder was a sweet guy, if not a little unhinged every once in a while. 

“You look quite beautiful tonight Miss Y/N” He complimented you as you settled in the back seat. You smiled at him, appreciating the comment. Wade had picked out your dress and you felt a little exposed and out of your element in it. It wasn’t anything crazy, just a slick black dress with a low neck line. The dress was short, ending a little above the knee. The problem was the slit up the side. You wanted to wear tights under the outfit but Wade insisted on fishnets. ‘You look like a goth baddie’  he had assured you, ‘Like a Hot Topic clearance rack version of Morticia Addams.’

Wade hopped in the front and immediately started to flip through the radio channels. Dopinder usually had on pleasant sounding Indian pop music but Wade settled on some heavily censored 90’s hip hop. 

The drive was rocky. Wade, who almost never kept his hands to himself, would grab poor  Dopinder while dancing along to the music causing the cab to swerve. A lot.

Having made it to the bar in one piece, you quickly scrambled out of the back, thanking the young man for the ride. 

Wade waited for you at the door.

~~~

The bar was loud and dark. One of those typical bars you see in movies, filled with moving bodies and cigarette smoke. Music pumped through the speakers with some people lingering near the bar while others swayed on the dance floor. Wade bounced through the crowd pulling you along towards the bar, where his group of friends took up half the bar area. You scanned the crowd nervously. No Logan. Your muscles relaxed, and you moved with a little more energy.

Wade greeted his friends with various enthusiastic greetings and crude gestures. You smiled in greeting and waved at a friend you recognized but sat down on a stool next to where Wade stood, him blocking you from most of the other bar patrons. There was a part of you that was a little disappointed that Logan wasn’t here. It made sense if he didn’t show up here, this bar was honestly more like a club, upbeat and energetic. He’s used to dark depressing dive bars, places you can drink yourself into a coma and not be bothered. But the few times he had shown up here you had thought that he enjoyed your company, for a little while at least. During times when the others were off doing dubious shit somewhere, he’d sit with you at the bar. You even managed to get him to dance with you once. That all changed recently. Something happened that caused him to be distant and often rude for seemingly no reason.

Everyone seems to be so happy to see Wade and he, them. You didn’t really know why you were here. It already felt overwhelming. You used to love coming here. Drinking and dancing, playing pool badly and belting out shitty country music karaoke with everyone. Lately, things have felt different. You’ve lost interest in a lot of the things you use to enjoy, spending your days just working and rotting in your apartment. This was too much.

Wade touched your shoulder causing you to jump.

“Hey we’re off to play some darts you in?” 

You smiled at your friend. “You really wouldn’t want me to play, you’d end up as the dart board.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time Sweetheart” Wade laughed, “we’ll be over there if you change your mind.” He made a heart with his hands and turned toward the group already making their way to the play area.

You sat quietly at the counter with a glass of something sweet and strong. You wanted to feel a buzz but you needed it to taste good. Your eyes scanned the crowd, people watching. You watched people dance and sway to the newest Kesha song blaring through the speakers. You witnessed a near fight over a pool game. You heard Wade’s laughter from across the room, his friends echoing along. You felt alone. It was your fault you told yourself. If you wanted to feel better you would’ve gotten up and joined your friends. But here you sat, being miserable on purpose. 

“Hey beautiful, mind if I joined you?” Your head snapped up meeting the face of someone you didn’t recognize. He was good looking, in a vanilla frat boy kinda way. With his backwards hat, sleeveless tank, skinny jeans and all.

But he smiled like a wolf.

“I’m sorry.” You tried to smile politely, but you had a twinge of anxiety growing in your chest. “I’m not really in the mood for company” 

The man smiled motioning to the bartender for a drink. “Can’t I just buy you a drink? “

“Really, I’m fine” You turned back to your drink, your eyes unfocused, hoping that if you just ignored him he’d leave. Your gut flipped when you heard him pull out the stool next to you. He wasn’t leaving.

“Come on babe, I can show you a good time”

“She said she ain’t looking for company bub.” A low voice growled behind you. A beer bottle came down heavily in between you and the creep. Your eyes trailed the hairy but beautifully sculpted arm to its owner, though you already knew who it belonged to. Logan. Even in this lighting you could see his rugged face. His hair was styled in its iconic cat ear shape. His beard was trimmed nicely combined with his thick muttonchops. His eyes were a little hazy but beautiful and dark. You met those eyes for a brief moment, he smirked at you before his gaze flickered to the other man.

 “Well?” He rumbled, barring his teeth.

“Naw, I was here first grandpa, you fuck off.” The frat guy stood up straight, trying to look intimidating.

“Trust me” Logan chuckled. He straightened cracking his knuckles before raising his fists and extending three razor sharp Adamantium claws from each hand.

“You don’t want none of this”

~~~

“You didn’t have to do that” you looked down at your glass avoiding Logan’s gaze. You heard him land heavily in the bar stool next to you. He tapped the counter signaling the bartender who was very clearly avoiding your side of the bar.

“I wasn’t going to have some limp dick creeping on you.”

“I was handling it” 

“You didn’t seem like you were handling anything Princess.” He scoffed.

You shot him a look. He smirked as he chugged his remaining beer, you couldn’t help watch his throat bob as he drank. He finished and loudly set the bottle down. He met your eyes and you looked away feeling your face heat violently.

“You thirsty princess?” He asked as the bartender set down two shots of something before scurrying away. He slid one glass your way.

“No thank you. I have my own drink”

You pushed the glass back his way. He eyed your almost empty cocktail and shrugged.

“Suit yourself” he took the glasses and knocked back both shots simultaneously slamming the glasses back down. After a few moments of silence, where you clearly felt Logan eyeing you the entire time, you sighed.

“I didn’t think I’d see you tonight Logan.” You admitted. Another beer had appeared in front of him, he took a swig. He eyed you, his eyes slowly trailing from your face down your body. They rested at the slit in your dress, exposing most of your fishnet covered thigh. You felt a ping in your lower belly, causing you to cross your legs uncomfortably. His eyes followed to movement. He licked his lips and met your eyes again smirking.

“Why didja miss me?”

You looked down at the growing piles of shredded napkins you had been anxiously ripping apart. 

“Yes” you said at last. There was no point in lying. You did miss him. Even seeing him now, clearly drinking away his problems, you couldn’t help but feel glad he was there with you. You were glad he scared away that creep, despite his now passive aggressive demeanor. You met his eyes again.

He snorted and tipped the beer to his lips.“You’re a fucking liar”

You felt your gut squeeze with anger. Why was he treating you this way? You didn’t ask him to step in to a play hero. You didn’t ask him for anything. You just wanted to get out of your shitty apartment for one goddamn night. You balled your fists and spun to face him fully.

“What. The. Fuck.” You clenched your teeth annunciating each word bitterly. “Is. YOUR PROBLEM”

“My PROBLEM,” he practically spat the word,

”is that I have to deal with your moody ass attracting the eye of every fucking creep in this place when you very fucking clearly don’t want to be here.” 

You threw your hands up angrily and gestured around the bar. 

“I didn’t want to deal with any of this Logan. I just wanted to go out with my FRIENDS, which I used to think you were one. I don’t fucking know what prick you had up your ass lately, but you sure as hell don’t act like you like me. WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?”

He was silent for a moment, studying your face, making it turn even redder. Then he laughed. He shook his head laughing and sloppily chugged his second beer.

You had enough. You needed to get away from him. You shoved yourself back, tipping the stool over in the process.

“Come find me when you figure out what you want.” You turned to leave. You made it a few steps before you heard Logan’s voice call mockingly.

“Nice dress by the way” 

You didn’t turn to look at him.

“Fuck you, Logan”

~~~

You ran your hands under cold water, leaning over the sink you splashed the water into your face and sighed. You looked into your mirrored face. This was a disaster.

Maybe if you just stayed in the bathroom you can avoid everyone until Wade was ready to leave. You felt bad that you ran off instead of finding him. You would’ve felt safe with Wade.

Your head was swimming, from the alcohol or the interaction with Logan you couldn’t tell.

The speaker above you crackled playing the opening notes to ‘Dirty Diana’, a favorite of yours. A banger Wade would say.

Without warning the door sung open and Logan stumbled in. 

“You’re in the wrong bathroom you drunk asshole” you snapped. His eyes met yours from a brief moment before he swayed slightly and took a step forward.

He pushed past you wordlessly and began kicking open the bathroom stalls. They were all empty. 

“Dude get out” You gripped the sink behind you, watching Logan warily. You knew deep down he wouldn’t hurt you but you obviously didn’t want him in here with you. He turned to you, taking a step forward.

”I needed to talk to you”

“Yeah, you could have waited til I got out of the ladies room??” 

“No.” he growled before in one swift movement he was in front of you, his arms on either side of the sink trapping you between them. Your breath came out in a shudder and your knees wobbled. This honestly was a thing out of a fantasy, something that you were embarrassed to admit you’ve thought about. You had been fighting your feelings for this big stupid man, stuck between thoughts of friendship and lust. God, he wasn’t helping with the latter.

“Logan”

“I’m sorry” he said looking as remorseful as he could under the circumstances.

“What did you need to talk about that couldn’t wait Lo?” You swallowed, gently lifting your hand and placing it on his chest, pushing lightly. His hands moved to your legs keeping you from pushing him further.

“Ya told me to find you when I figured out what I wanted”

“Yeah” You scoffed. “Enlighten me”

~~~

“I want you”

Logan leaned over you, his hands sliding up your thighs to rest on your hips. His fingers dug in lightly, the movement making your legs feel like jelly. You gripped his shoulders to steady yourself. He was so firm and warm under your hands.

His face was inches from yours, his expression unreadable in the low lighting. You smelled the smoke and alcohol on his breath.

“God, do you ever suck on anything other than Wade’s dick and cheap cigars?”

He leaned in close to your ear and growled, 

“Ya looking to find out princess?”

You felt a ping of desire sink into your lower belly as his hand moved from your waist.

Shivers went down your spine as his hands slid up your torso coming to a stop right below your breasts. One of his thumbs brushed upwards lightly, teasingly.

You sucked in a breath as he lowered his face to your neck and brushed a kiss to the sensitive skin. His facial hair tickling your jaw.

“Logan, you’re drunk.” You croaked out, pulling away slightly, your hands sliding from his shoulders. He moved with you.

You felt his lips brush your skin again, another kiss, before his thumb slid upward against your breast. Fuck. The wet heat between your legs was unbearable. You needed some sort of friction. You definitely noticed the pressure from his pants pressed against your stomach. So close, you just needed anything. You bucked your hips against his, almost involuntarily, causing a rumble to escape his throat. His thumb stroked again.

“That’s a good girl” His head bobbed lower dragging his tongue down as he kissed your neck. You could feel him smile as he sucked the skin of your collar bone in a way that would definitely leave a mark. Holy Hell. What was happening.

You were sick of your neck getting all the attention as you reached up to take his face in your hand. He practically melted at your touch, his breath hitching as you stroked his cheek with your thumb. You wanted him, needed his mouth on yours. You pulled his face up, a little roughly, to meet your gaze. You thought you heard him let out a little surprised chuckle from the movement. His eyes were half lidded as he met yours. He was drunk, and you realized, so were you. You leaned in, your lips feather light against his-

You jumped at Wade’s voice from the other side of the door, calling for you.

Shit. You dropped your hand away from his face.

Logan growled, low and angry. He abruptly took his hot hands from your body and leaned his head to your ear, you felt his lips against your skin.

“Some other time then, darlin’.” He pulled away from you swaying slightly, before grabbing his beer from the counter and yanking open the bathroom door.

~~~

Anyway, thanks for reading. I guess I don’t know if this is any good and I will be posting the rest on Ao3 eventually

[bestangelofall]

(inspired by that post you were talking about + other comments I’ve noticed around recently) I think it’s funny how people will conflate the word “abuse” with “assault” to make Jason look extra bad (he did not abuse Mia or Tim. He is not in an intimate relationship with them. He’s an enemy that attacked them, these are superhero comics you would not call Two Face Dick’s “abuser” be serious for one moment), but when it comes to situations where there is a relationship with an ingrained power imbalance (Bruce and his children for example), nobody knows how to use the word “abuse” anymore

People can't simply say they dislike a character because they don't vibe with them and that's it anymore. I just can't get behind that, personally. (But then again, for me, the worst sin a character can "committ" is being boring and uninteresting...)

Everything has to be dressed up in therapy speak and words that don't mean exactly what people think they mean... such as abuse, like you said, which would imply a power imbalance which does not exist between Jason and Mia or Jason and Tim (of course, though, if you want to write an *AU* where he gets into a relationship with either of those characters (or any other character), and abuses them due to the dynamic you're going to develop, I say go for it, you do you.)

Although *personally* I think it's kinda a bit out there to put Jason in the role of an abuser, tbh... he doesn't really have that kind of power over anyone (arguably he has over Bruce, but does he really? I think you could write him that way in fic and it would be reasonable depending on how you write it, because Bruce is (very) susceptible to some kinds of moralistic manipulation, but in canon, of course, we only see the opposite where the dynamic of Jason and Bruce is concerned (or Bruce any of the other "batkids").

The damage to fandom's perception of Jason simply because in a lot of his official art he looks like a forty year old is so bad (though I don't particularly think he looked that old in the GA issues in particular, from what I remember). (Or because he's ugly too, let's not forget that DC (well, actually, not exclusive to DC by any means) is always pushing the ugliness = evilness thing. And like, Jason is so ugly in a lot of his comics, including UTH).

And the damage that Teen Titans Vol 3 29 caused for the experience of being a Jason fan is... [redacted]

Also, let me take the opportunity to say that I don't think either of those situations were OOC for Jason. I mean, not that I've heard that many opinions that the GA issues were OOC for him, but I definitely have seen a lot of "Titans Tower was OOC, Jason would never." (that difference is, of course, due to the fact that a lot more people care about Tim Drake than about Mia Dearden, because both situations are quite similar).

*CANON* Titans Tower, as it happened (i.e. Jason beat Tim, skill issue, Tim was sassing Jason *while* being beaten) was not OOC.

Going back to the "abuse" thing, and also to the age-difference that people love to stretch - Jason was treating both Mia and Tim as equals when going after them like that... there wasn't in any way a vibe of "going after kids because they are easy" (and of course, if we analyse these events from the standpoint of Jason having been dead + catatonic for a long period, in the meta we could propose that that sort of idea would've never even crossed his mind).

*ALSO* you do you, and you write anything you want in fanfic. Believe me, I'm not a stickler to canon in the fanfic I read/write in most fandoms I'm in (and even if I were, the "you write whatever you want" still stands). And fandom is fandom, so of course a thing like Teen Titans Vol 3 29 would be explored to hell and back in fanfic. I just complain a lot about it because, mind you, I nowadays filter out Tim's character tag (unless I'm in the mood to maybe look for a Jaytim fic that I can read, since, on average, the Tim/Jason fics are better characterized than Tim & Jason ones), and I still get sooooo many fics where Jason is angsting about "the horrors he committed" there. I guess that made me bitter. But oh well... it is what it is.

Thank you for the ask! And sorry for derailing lol

[ushiwakaout]

Yooooo. I’m feeling kinda in a angst mood so I want to like politely ask maybe a argument scenario from like angst to fluff? For kita, Atsumu, Osamu, and Suna. Or you can just do one. Love yuh lots.

I’ll make these short and good so you can get the whole experience with 3 of them.

TIME SKIP!

SPOILERS!

BETA DRAFT! srry.

[Osamu is a little ooc tbh but i think out of all the haikyuu boys he’d be the most poetic and im leaving out Suna because i cannot seem to write him correctly for the life of me, i am not satisfied.]

Shinsuke Kita

He’s not emotional. We know this. He’s apathetic, and you knew this the second you got into this relationship so why are you arguing with him. He finds this pointless. He breathes heavily and pinches the ridge of his nose, “Don’t do that! You said you would do better and you haven’t! Are you even listening to me?”

“If you don’t like what we’ve got then just leave!” He slaps his sun hat on the table, his gloves are still on. Kita literally just got back from a long, hot, exhausting day at the rice farm.

He didn’t mean to yell, and he didn’t mean the words that slipped out his mouth. It was too late. He knew that. Kita stared at his shoes, not daring to look at you. “Seriously? Kita? You promised me you’d try be more expressive with me…”

He tugs at you heart strings when he keeps his head down, he’s squeezing the chair nearby and it’s making his knuckles white. “Kita…” You try to cup his cheek, making an effort to try and get him to look at you but he swatted your hand away.

“That’s enough y/n, I don’t need you to babysit my emotions and the way i express things.”

Oh now you where upset.

You took a couple of steps back in disbelief, “I understand that you’ve been having a difficult time at the farm but that’s not an excuse for being a shit boyfriend… How about i take a load off your shoulders- we’re done Shinsuke, I-I’ve had enough…”

He doesn’t stop you from collecting your things. He doesn’t stop you from walking out the door.

It slams shut and he’s just standing there, in his empty kitchen. His house is a ghost of you. Every corner had been decorated by you. So he looks to the floor.

Tears fall to his shoes and he’s shaking.

It’s from crying he thinks, but the more he cries the harder he was shaking.

“Kita.”

Your soft whisper breaks him from a nightmare.

His cheeks are wet.

He was crying. But it wasn’t real.

“Kita? What’s wrong honey? You were having a nightmare…”

His head was still resting on your chest, the same position he was originally in before his nightmare. You caressed his hair. He loved feeling your fingers run through your hair. He felt safe. Kita tightened his hold around you, “I’m okay now.” He whispered, kissing the closes part of you before nuzzling back into your chest. “I love you, y/n… i know i can be a little apathetic… but i care for you the most in this world.”

Atsumu Miya

He’s always been a ladies man.

You hate how stupid good looking he is.

It makes you feel insecure sometimes how much he gets hit on and you don’t. “It’s because he’s respected in the male community.” His twin brother spoke. “Everyone knows your his partner… so they back off.” It made your head hurt.

At a large volleyball gathering, you decided to wear something a little more eye catching. He thinks nothing of it, he tells you how amazing you look and you’re off to the party.

He’s pissed that he’s brought you now.

Who the hell told him it would be a good idea to bring his freaking partner. Osamu laughed at him when he mentioned something about it. “Now you can finally see how y/n feels…” Atsumu raised a brow. “What do you mean by that?”

Osamu regrets speaking. He lets out a sigh, “Y/n been feeling insecure lately. They don’t like the way you instigate things with them, that your flirty or that you look at them for that matter-“

Atsumu began waving his hands, trying to get him to stop speaking “You sure they didn’t you you were me? T-they wouldn’t keep something like that from me...” He glances over at you, a man from a different team was making your laugh. You fixed your hair shyly as you smile to the man who talks to you.

Before Osamu could try and stop his brother from doing anything stupid. He hand already marched towards you. “Uh yeah excuse me- this is my partner and we are leaving, thank you for keeping her company-”

“Atsunu what the fu-”

He’s dragging you out of the building and you don’t struggle, he was never one to run out of a party so the suden rush prevented you from even thinking of stopping him.

“Atsumu can you please tell me what the hell we’re doing out here! I’m freezing!”

His hand was still squeezing your bicep, “Why did Osamu have to tell me that you’ve been feeling insecure.”

You freeze. This was not, a conversation you wanted to have. Not now especially.

“Can we not- Can we not do this here, please?”

“No, i thought we didn’t hide stuff from eachother.”

“Atsumu-”

“It’s me right? Because i pretend with them-”

You’re stuttering and stumbling threw your worlds as he continues to speak.”

“Did they say something to you, I swear-”

“I DONT FEEL GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU!”

You blurted out, grabbing at fabric of his shirt. “I don’t think i even have…” You’re looking at your feet now. “I know you don’t see the things they say about me for dating you, but it’s mean… I wanna give you so much love but how much sanity will i have left… they pick at me for every little thing i do, wrong or right. I love you ‘Sumu… I really do but I don’t know know how much more i can take.”

He’s the one frozen now.

“You’re not breaking up with me.”

“What-”

“Like hell you’re breaking up with me. Give me 5 minutes… stay here… please.”

He kisses the tip of your nose while squeezing both of you’re shoulders.

You’re standing there confused and sad. Sniffling and cold air brushed your chilled skin. From inside the building you could see through the glass door how he paced back in forth and spoke into the phone. it wasn’t long before he came back out.

Once we was in front of you, he cupped your hands on his. “Do you love me?” He kisses your wrist. You nod, sniffling back a tear. “Good. Do you trust me?” He kisses your other wrist, you nod again- almost choking on your breath. “I called my agent… He’s calling a press meeting for me, and i’m going to state that if any network, any fan girl, any article writes poorly about you- they will be sued by me every single time. We’ve already got a few people in mind, the paper work will go through tomorrow.”

“Sumu… you didn’t have to do any of that.”

“I will rather quit volleyball, then have you break up with me, because of an issue i can fix.” He kisses your cheek softly. “You’re perfect for me, i won’t let other make you think otherwise.”

Osamu Miya

He couldn’t close on time again.

He cursed under his breath, running towards the restaurant that you had originally picked out. He let the hostess know your name but her lips tightened and she shook her head. “You’ve just missed em, drank a glass of [liquor] and then made their way out… Sorry.” Her apology was apathetic.

He walked out the establishment and once he heard the door close behind him, he cursed loudly into the air.

He tried calling your phone but it didn’t even ring. It was off or worse he was blocked. It was late, the trains where no longer running so he walked himself home in his suit. Osamu quickly had put it on, and it was clear that he did because it was wrinkled and his tie was not tied correctly. It took him about an hour to get home. The one you shared.

He had a gut feeling before he opened the door. So he stood there, his hands in his pockets. Your stuff would be picked up and gone. He was with you because he loved that you had such a strong head on your shoulders… you wouldn’t take it any longer. Today, one-hundred percent, was the final straw.

3 year anniversary.

He let his forehead drop to the door, making a light thud. He gripped the little box in his pocket.

The reason he had been working like a dog, day and night.

This stupid little ring.

It was perfect too. He knew exactly what you liked, what you wanted. It was way over over his budget but he’s do anything for you.

“Osamu? Is that you?” Your voice chirped from behind the door. His head shot up and looked ahead. “Y/n?” You unlocked the door, slowly revealing that you had changed into you pjs, eyes swollen from crying. “I waited for you…” You whispered, your voice breaking in the process.

God he hates himself. He hated himself for making you like his. “y/n im so sorry…” he whispered. “please forgive me…” he dropped to his knees, his body lightly brushing yours as he held you. “i shouldn’t have been late, i should have never missed any of our dates… please give me one more chance, please hear me out...”

he backs up and props up a knee, digging into his pocket. there’s a shift in your eyes that he notices, “Don’t freak out, this isn’t me trying to tie you down that way… not necessarily…”

he clears his throat, opening the box that was in his hand, displaying it to you. “there is no one in the world… no one… i would rather be with than you. i can’t see myself with anyone else. i would be the luckiest man in the world if you married me, but this- you can say no to this…”

you’re still frozen, tears falling down your cheeks, sniffling. “I want to earn you… i don’t deserve you right now… i’ve been the worse boyfriend there is… there’s no excuse for it but all those nights i’ve been working late have been for you- and you only… i’m sorry i couldn’t communicate that with you. let me earn you again… let me show you that i am worth being your husband.”

you start nodding slowly, sinking down onto your knees to kiss him. “I’ll promise i’ll be better.” he says in between stolen kisses as he slips the tin onto your finger.

Author Note: My request are open!!! Please do fill free to ask for something.

i did lie

i came back from the dead

i write for haikyuu, jjk, chainsaw man and MHA primarily <3

[zegrasdrysdale]

Hi! I wanted to send in a request for Jamie! So Jamie and the reader, have been on and off again and hooking up for years, the reader falling in love with him over that time. after their latest hookup the reader realizes she wants more than him, and when she refuses to get back with him he admits how much he loves her. Maybe the prompt “I can’t do this anymore… not with you” I’m in the mood to read something angsty lol

[ protect the heart ] j. drysdale

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : after (Y/N) breaks the friends with benefits deal she has with Jamie by falling in love with him. she decides that she can’t keep hooking up with him. she thinks thatJamie will never love her back and she can’t keep hurting herself anymore

warning(s) : angst and feelings ! sad Jamie (i'm sorry), mentions of sex but no actual smut

author’s note : good thing i’ve been in the mood to write something angsty. i took this and ran with it tbh so enjoy :)

༺═──────────────═༻

She was never the girl who wanted to be in any kind of romantic relationship like all of her friends. No feelings and no strings attached seemed like the easiest thing way to go. She watched all of her friends get their hearts broken by someone and she didn’t want to go through that same heartbreak.

Until she met Jamie Drysdale. It wasnt until she met the brown hair, blue eyed defenseman for the Ducks through mutual friends when she realized that maybe she was ready to give her heart to someone.

One night out after a hockey game and suddenly she finds herself in bed with a professional hockey player. Over and over … and over again until they finally made a deal.

No feelings. No strings attached. Friends with benefits only because she didn’t want romance and he had too crazy of a schedule to hold a steady relationship. They both get something out of the deal - crazy good sex whenever they wanted.

It’s the perfect deal. It was the perfect deal until (Y/N) broke the one rule they made when they started. They were to never gain feelings for the other. She more than gained feelings for him.

She fell in love with him over the two years since their deal started.

It was slow. She realized her heart rate would quicken every time he looked at her or touched her. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach when he kissed her. Even her orgasms got more intense as she began to fall in love with Jamie.

Now, as she looks up at a sleepy Jamie in his bed, she realizes that she wants more.

She wants the romance that she loathed when she met him. She wants to go out on dates and get showered with kisses whenever they see each other. She wants to wear his jersey to his games without it being a dare from friends. She wants to fall asleep in his arms and wake up beside him in the morning without the awkwardness that follows when they’ve realized that they slept in the same bed.

(Y/N) fell in love with him, and that’s what she came to his apartment to tell him so either he could break the deal or they could begin a new relationship. That was before he kissed her as soon as she crossed the threshold into his apartment and she gave in to him like she always does.

“Jamie?” she whispers, unsure if he’s asleep. Her heart races in her chest.

“I need a few minutes before we go for round two,” he tells her. His voice is weak.

She smiles at the thought of being trapped under his insanely gorgeous body again for the second time in an hour. Her own body reacts to the thought and she pushes her thighs together.

“I just want to talk for a second before we do anything else,” she replies.

He opens his eyes and looks down at her. She’s curled up against his side. She has to detach herself and sit up so she can have this conversation.

“You didn’t come over here for sex, did you?” Jamie asks. “Because if you didn’t and I forced you into it-“

“Jamie, you know I’m always okay with sex,” she interrupts. “You know this. I’d tell you if I wasn’t. You know that too. I came over to talk but I didn’t mind this. I never mind this.”

He relaxes a bit. (Y/N) didn’t even realize he tensed up until his shoulders drop. “What did you come over to talk about?”

Here goes nothing.

“I think I broke our deal,” she slowly tells him. “Because I came over to tell you that I …” She trails off. She swallows hard before she finishes her sentence. “I love you, Jamie. I’ve been falling in love with you for years. I didn’t know how to tell you because I didn’t want to ruin this because I love this. I just want more than this.”

Jamie seems genuinely surprised to hear those words come from her. He’s speechless, but (Y/N) can see the gears turning in his head.

He’s thinking about what she said. It's terrifying.

She gnaws on her bottom lip as she waits for a reply.

"(Y/N), I don't think I can give you more," Jamie tells her. "We've tried to do the whole relationship thing and it never worked out. You didn't like being in a relationship and I travel all the time because of hockey."

With a small nod and a sigh, she looks down at her hands on her blanket covered lap. "I understand," she mumbles. "Sorry for bringing it up."

She feels her heart break a little in her chest. This was the feeling that she hoped to avoid when she started her friends with benefits deal with Jamie. Then she ruined it by falling in love.

(Y/N) finds herself wishing that she ended the deal when she realized she was falling in love. Instead, she didn't believe that she was falling in love and kept going despite her new feelings.

This is her mistake. She set herself up to get hurt because she let it get so far, and now she has to deal with it.

"I'm sorry I can give you more," Jamie tells her as he sits up. He lightly kisses her shoulder. "I'd be the world's worst boyfriend if I did. I would never be around from September until April, maybe even longer if the team ever made the playoffs. Not to mention what would happen if I were to get hurt again. I don't want to put you through any of that."

She has seen shades of what it would be like to be Jamie's girlfriend and they're not even dating. He's so loyal, he always asks for consent during sex, and he's always checking in on her. Even when he's on the road, he texts or calls her when he knows she's having a bad day. He sends her gifts for her birthday and for Christmas if he's on a roadie.

When Jamie was hurt earlier in the season, he never yelled at her and came to her for help when he needed it. He never got frustrated with her when she was smothering him and hovering over him. He made sure that she was taking care of herself while she was looking after him.

That isn't the world's worst boyfriend. It's far from being the world's worst boyfriend.

Jamie runs his fingers through her hair almost like he's trying to apologize. She suddenly finds herself needing to get out of there and go back to her own apartment. She doesn't want to get emotional in front of him.

"I need to go," (Y/N) blurts out. "I'm sorry." She jumps out of bed and begins to get dressed. "You have an early flight to Dallas in the morning anyway so I'll just get out of your hair."

He tries to reach out to stop her but she moves too quick. "No, stay," Jamie tries to tell her. "We can grab dinner and watch a mo-"

"I can't do this anymore," she interrupts. The words pass her lips before she can even think about what she's saying. "Not with you. I let it go too far and hooking up with you when you can't give me more than just sex is going to hurt me. We can keep being friends but the falling into bed with each other needs to stop. I can't keep hurting myself, Jamie."

A flash of hurt crosses Jamie's face. "Okay."

The decision to end it came quickly. She didn't even think about it before she told him it was over, but she needed to do it. She needs to put her heart back together and protect it. Continuing to sleep with Jamie is only going to keep her from doing that.

"I'm sorry," she whispers as she practically flees the room as soon as she's dressed.

(Y/N) gets as far away from him as she possibly can as quickly as she can. Her cheeks are soaking wet when she does get back to her own apartment.

She leans against the door when it's shut and allows herself to let out a single sob. She allows herself a single moment of weakness before she dries her own tears and makes the decision to move on.

No matter how much it hurts.

༺═──────────────═༻

It hurts a lot more than she thought it would. Moving on from Jamie seemed a lot easier than it really is. She's even been ignoring his texts because she thinks it'll help. She's been ignoring texts from Trevor as well. It doesn't help though.

She misses him.

That's probably the reason why she sits in front of her TV two nights later to watch the Ducks play the Dallas Stars. She has her legs tucked under her while she sits under a blanket and drinks a cup of coffee that she made before the game.

She scrolls through her Instagram feed as the game starts, liking a few posts here and there.

Two minutes into the first period, one of the commentators says, "The Ducks are missing young defenseman Jamie Drysdale in the lineup tonight. He was scratched last minute due to illness so he is not on the ice with his usual partner, Cam Fowler."

Her eyes flick up to the screen in front of her from her phone and she sees Jackson LaCombe skating with Cam during what would normally be Jamie's shift.

Jamie isn't on the ice.

Without realizing it, she opens her texts with Jamie and sends a message.

to jamie - 7:13 pm they said you were scratched tonight because you were sick so i wanted to make sure you aren't lying dead somewhere in dallas

The text doesn't get replied to. She guesses that it makes sense since she hasn't been replying to any of his messages. She never really expected a reply since it's been two days since they've spoken to each other and she ran out of his bedroom.

It's five minutes later when a knock rings out through the apartment. She isn't expecting company but she still throws the blankets off her lap and goes to answer the door.

It catches her very off guard when she sees Jamie standing on the other side of the door in his game day suit. That means he was going to play today, but instead he flew back to Anaheim in his suit.

"I'm not lying dead somewhere in Dallas."

"You should be in Dallas," she says in surprise. "Why aren't you on the ice right now?"

"Because after talking to some guys on the team yesterday, I realized that I made a mistake the other day when I let you walk out of my room," he tells her. She raises her eyebrows in confusion. "I talked to Cronin a few hours before the game to tell him that I needed to come back home and he told me that he'd tell the reporters that I was sick. I needed to come talk to you, (Y/N)."

She shakes her head. "You don't have to explain yourself, Jamie," she replies. "I get where you came from and I understand that you can't give me more. It's okay. I'm okay. You need to get back to Dallas so you can play tomorrow in Chicago. I'm not more important than hockey. I'll never be more important than hockey."

"You are more important than hockey," Jamie retorts. "Why do you think I got on the first flight out of Dallas? Why do you think I'm on your doorstep instead of on the ice?"

"Jamie-"

"No, you got to say what you needed to say so now it's my turn," he interrupts her. "And you're going to listen to what I have to say before you say anything else." (Y/N)'s mouth snaps shut. “I’m sorry I can’t give you more but I like the way things were. I wouldn’t be good for you and that’s why I wanted to keep things casual with us."

She blinks at him when he says that. She's surprised he's trying to fight for the deal when she told him that she couldn't do the whole friends with benefits thing anymore.

She wants more than just a few hook ups every few weeks and she doesn't want to keep doing the on and off dance they've done before.

"I can't believe you're trying to fight for this when I told you I couldn't keep sleeping with you," she says when he's done talking. "I refuse to keep hurting myself because you can't give me more. I can't believe you flew from Dallas and missed your game to tell me that. You're unbelievable, Jamie. I'm done with the deal. That's the end of it. We're friends, we're dating, or we're nothing. That's it. No more sleeping together. I think you need to think about that for a little bit."

As the door shuts, Jamie stops it with his foot. "(Y/N), please," he pleads. She stands on the other side of the door where he can't see her. She's fuming. "Please. I'm sorry, but I like the fun we were having. I liked that we were in each others lives all the time. Please."

She closes her eyes and tries not to show any emotion. "Get on a plane back to Dallas, Jamie," she tells him. "You have a game in Chicago tomorrow. I'm not going to let you miss a second game in a row."

"I love you too, okay?" Jamie blurts out. She quickly moves so she's facing him. "I love you and I'm scared that I'm going to ruin what's left of our friendship if I were to give you more than just sex. Clearly I've always ruined something because you didn't talk to me for two days."

(Y/N)'s jaw drops in surprise. He's just full of surprises tonight. "I was trying to move on," she admits to him. "I didn't think ... you love me?"

Jamie nods and looks super vulnerable after admitting his feelings for her. There are tears in his eyes when he looks at her. "I do," he replies. "I just don't think I can't give you want you want. I'd be a shit boyfriend because I'm always away or always at the rink. We also tried the whole relationship thing but it never stuck and I was tired of the back and forth."

"I've been around hockey my entire life, Jamie," she tells him. "I was in the rink every weekend as a child watching my father coach, I went to games all the time back home because all of my friends played. Hell, most of my friends here in Anaheim play, including you, Trevor and Mason. I know that you wouldn't be a shit boyfriend but you won't give it a chance. I didn't love you whenever we tried the relationship thing, but I do now. You love me. It could work. You just won't let it."

"I'm scared it won't stick and I'll have ruined everything for good," he admits.

She reaches up and cups the back of his neck. "I don't think that's possible," she tells him. "You're Jamie. You'll always find a way to stick around."

He shoots her a sad smile before she rises onto her tiptoes and softly presses her lips to his. The kiss is slow and it takes Jamie a little bit before he kisses her back.

Jamie finally touches her when he wraps his arms around her waist and lifts her off the ground. She wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck so she doesn't fall. She smiles into the kiss that follows before she pulls back.

With hope running through her veins, (Y/N) asks, "Can we try again?"

"Promise you won't hold anything against me?" he asks in reply. "That I won't ruin everything if something happens and we break up?"

She runs her fingers through his hair and says, "I'd never hold anything against you. I promise."

He smiles up at her.

Behind her, the announcers say that Trevor scored a goal on a power play and Jamie looks over her shoulder. "He always has to get involved, doesn't he?" Jamie jokes.

"Well, technically he's the one that set us up in the first place so it' seems fitting that he scores a goal right after we tell each other that we love the other," she replies. Jamie looks at her. "Come on. Let's go watch the game. I'm sure that's Trevor's way of telling us to get out butts on the couch to watch the game."

Jamie laughs and lets her down. She grabs her boyfriend's hand and leads him to the couch.

Boyfriend. That's going to take some getting used to.

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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[your-divine-ribs]

Hi guys just a quick update! You might have noticed that I’ve been slowing down on my writing massively in the past year - anyone who’s only followed me this year who might not realise - the majority of what I’ve been posting are my stories which got deleted off Wattpad in January (still not over that btw 😭)

Anyway I’m so sad to say that I think my fic days are coming to an end, I’ve been feeling like this for some time now tbh. I still love Van and CATB so much but I’ve been losing my love for fic for a while now although I still have days I love to write (you should see my million drafts!) but those days are getting less and less now as time goes on 😭

I’m not saying I’m giving up on writing completely as I still very much love all my characters and I would still like to write some little blurbs or headcanons for them or maybe even the odd fic if the mood takes me. Also I still have lots of chapters in my drafts to share for I’m With the Band, Forbidden and Ice Cold so I’ll still post them going forward. And this might just be a blip and I’ll come back to it at some point, I really don’t know! I hate to think I might leave so many stories unfinished but I just don’t have it in me right now so I’m really sorry for that 😞

Anyway sorry for waffling - I also wanted to say a HUGE thank you for every single follow, comment, like etc on here and on Wattpad too. I’ve never had much confidence with my writing right from the start but you guys have really helped and supported me and I appreciate it so much more than you will ever know - it sounds stupid but writing my silly stories has got me through some unbelievably tough times in my life. I’m forever grateful for how many wonderful people on here I’ve made a connection with through my stories and this blog and this amazing band who we all love 💖 god I am so sorry this got very sappy very quickly 😭😆

And I’ll still be around on all my blogs so you’re not completely getting rid of me ha ha xxxxx

[babiebom]

Hey! I’ve been into SDV for a while know and I found your profile and it’s absolutely amazing! Your headcanons are so accurate and your writing is so smooth! I love it all! I saw that you take requests, so could you do headcanons for Stardew Valley Bachelors and Bachelorettes reactions when they find out that the farmer has a prosthetic leg?

(Love your work💗💗)

A/N: thank you for enjoying my work!! I try my best to write everyone in a way that I think is accurate so it feels good when people say that they think it is. Again if anything is offensive or wrong let me know!!!

Tw: some cursing, maybe some mean things/judgement/ableism because let’s face it not everyone is nice, a person without a prosthetic writing about it. let me know if anything else should be tagged!

Bc: at least 5 for each!! Some are shorter than others!

Stardew Masterlist

Sebastian

I feel like Sebastian would try to act normal about it but would be like….

Hmm okay

I don’t think he would react outwardly

He would try to keep things inside

And I don’t think he’s ableist

But he would be like

OMGOMGOMGOMG in his mind

He wouldn’t ask questions either

He’d just act like everything is fine when in reality he’s now panicking like……..

Is he supposed to act different? He doesn’t think so? Is that rude?

Is terrified of losing you and doesn’t want to mess anything up.

When he does ask about it tries to do it in the most non offending way possible.

Because he is curious about it

I don’t think anyone else in the valley has prosthetics

So he does want to know everything

He’s really nosy tbh

But acts all emo and as if he isn’t and that he doesn’t care

If you wanna ever talk about it I think you would have to bring it up first

Sam

OH COOL ya know *insert some random thing*

He wouldn’t be all “omg I didn’t know I’m so sorry” about it

I think he’s similar to Emily in this

In that it doesn’t really change his view of you

Would probably say offensive things though

Like on accident and because his mind is coming up with dumb questions and he has no impulse control when it comes to his mouth

Would ask if you could be like a pirate

Or ask if it means you can skateboard better than him

Would probably give you a kinda offensive nickname

But again hes doesn’t mean to be stupid about it

DOES change his tune if you don’t like it

Would never want to continue doing something that you actively dislike

Does ask every question that is on his mind

I feel like rather than the others he’s much more comfy with you

So doesn’t hesitate to ask about anything he lacks knowledge on

Shane

Depending on where you are in your relationship he has different moods

Like if he hasn’t opened up and is still depressed and an alcoholic he would be VERY pessimistic about it

Would probably get your spirits down

Would also probably say VERY offensive things in his melancholy state

Would say sorry only after you say that he’s being rude about it

If it’s after he gets help no matter if you’re dating or not he’s still like…

Oof

About it

Y’know? But he wouldn’t be an asshole either he’d just be like

Are you okay? About it if it makes sense?

Like it’s not an omg are you okay it’s more of a how are you feeling about it way

Like no matter if you’ve had the prosthetic forever or got it more recently his question is the same

How do you feel about it?

Does really care about your thoughts

I do think with him you’d have more deeper conversations than with anyone else other than maybe Harvey

Alex

While I don’t think he’s very judgmental on purpose

He probably would say some rude things

Or react in a rude way

Maybe thoughtless is the right word?

Like he isn’t going to be mean or anything

But he will say something like “oh like a pirate or something!”

And you’d be like “??????sure I guess….?”

Would want to swing your prosthetic leg around for shits and giggles

Understands that it’s expensive to get proper prosthetics but it’s in the back of his mind

Wouldn’t really treat you any differently unless it’s something that he thinks could hurt you

Even if you can do it alone

He’s like “NONO let me do it!!”

I don’t know what type of person you are but I know that’s either a relief so you only have to do easy things or it’s annoying because you’re perfectly able to do things on your own.

Is always impressed that you can do your farming duties.

Like it’s sorta ableist?

Like he’s a little confused but he has the spirit type of thing

Harvey

His first thought would be

Damn how good is your insurance

Or if you had to pay out of pocket for it

Is a doctor after all

I think he’d be curious in a doctor way

Because again I don’t think anyone else in the valley has a prosthetic (Sadge bc diversity is cool)

So he hasn’t really seen them that often

Would probably be very intrusive if you two are close

Would also back off if you weren’t okay with it

Does however become very….worried? About you

I don’t think worried is the right word

But would remind you to take breaks more often than he would a farmer without one (and even then it’s pretty often)

Like a mother kinda

Is kinda ableist but doesn’t realize because he thinks it’s just his doctor side

Again will stop if you want him to

Would absolutely have some interesting facts about prosthetics

Elliott

Would try to be poetic about it

And it’s either very cringy or cute based on hope you think of him

Would probably try to write a book or story or poem or something about a character with a prosthetic

Does get a lot of things wrong with the facts but tries

Because you are his muse

And his characters reflect you even if he won’t admit is until you’re closer enough

Might change something’s up about it though so it’s not exactly you

Just in case you hate it so he could be like “nononono this character has a DIFFERENT prosthetic hehe”

I do think he’s ableist but again like the others not in a judgemental kind of way just…..uninformed

Will listen if you try to teach him

Will also fight anyone who has anything to say about it

Haley

Depending on where you are in your relationship makes her reaction different

Like before she opens up I think she’d have a mean girl type of reaction

Like she’d make a face and everything and ask rude questions.

Like it would genuinely either make you mad or make you feel bad

She’d be like “WHAT THE HELL??”

And you’d be like “tf???? Are you okay?”

She’s ask VERY personal questions

Partly because she’s curious and partly because she has to make fun of you by being a bitch

But if you’re closer when she finds out she’s just like…

Taken aback and like oof but that’s the extent to it

I think if you’re closer she’d be too scared to ask any questions because while she gives no fucks she likes you

Whether it be in a romantic or platonic way

And she doesn’t want to push you away or anything

So she won’t really comment on it other than being like “oh….okay….”

Will fight anyone who says something about it though

Like even if they’re asking a valid question or something she’s like “ABSOLUTELY NOT”

Emily

Doesn’t react at all other than being like oh cool!

Honestly I don’t think she would think anything different of you, or even think that anything has changed now that she knows

Like you have always been the person that she knows and your limbs being different doesn’t mean anything because why would it?

Does make you cute accessories for it if you allow it though

Makes covers, will bedazzle it, literally whatever you want.

I think out of all of the bachelors and bachelorettes she would be the one to make it the least weird.

Like the others would either ask really insensitive questions or act weird about it

She’s like <3 yeah okay anyways do you wanna see this dance I’ve been practicing?

Like sorry I don’t have many headcanons for her she’s just….normal when it comes to things that other people would deem weird(not to be ableist I hope you know what I mean by this bc people are asses)

Penny

VERY ABLEIST

But again not in a judgy way

She just….

She means well but it’s kinda annoying if you don’t want help

Just like how she shoves George’s wheelchair out of the way at the mailbox to help him

It’s like first you should ASK if someone wants help

And second helping isn’t always what you think it is

Would help you without asking if you want it

Acts like she just is so much stronger or whatever

Is VERY embarrassed after you talk to her about it

Might try to argue back that she was just helping

But ultimately realizes that she was kinda overstepping

Just wants to make things easier for you

Abigail

Would think it’s cool

Asks dumb questions like if it gives you an advantage over anything that others wouldn’t think about

Forgets about it half the time tbh

Like it doesn’t matter to her

And thankfully she has make herself her own person outside of Pierre’s beliefs bc child her would’ve been mean

But she does think it’s cool and like the others has a million different questions

Asks them nonstop

Also like Alex asks if she can use it as a weapon

Sometimes offensive but not often I don’t think

Would probably say some bullshit like you’re part robot or something

Again depending on how you feel she either keeps up this joke with you.

Or lets it die out

Cooler than most about it

Leah

I think she’s one of the ones that doesn’t react

Because she’s lived in the city

I think she has come across a couple people with different kinds of prosthetics

So she isn’t like the others with a million questions or anything

It’s much more normalized for her that she doesn’t really comment or question it

Will ask if she could create one for you out of wood just to see if she can

Also one of the ones that would knock a bitch out for coming at you in a rude way

Would probably have a “yeah and?” Reaction if you wanted her to actually react

Like it doesn’t change anything at all for her.

Maru

Would be stoked

But in a science type of way

Would also wanna see if she could make you a new one

Unlike Leah though Maru would probably be a bit offensive

Mostly because I don’t think she understands social norms or anything

So she would ask things that would be unamusing and uncomfortable for you because she really just….

Doesn’t understand that there’s things that you shouldn’t say or do

Is overwhelmingly positive though

Like tries VERY hard to get you to understand that nothing has changed for her

Is a little annoying about it but just really wants you to know that she likes or loves you no matter what

Would probably have some interesting facts about prosthetics as well

[potatoplace]

Omega Needs - chapter 1

Feyre x Tamlin, eventual Feyre x Rhys

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Series Masterlist

Story Summary: Feyre presented as an omega after being changed into a high fae Under the Mountain. Her heats have been hellish, and Tamlin has neglected certain aspects of her presentation. After the disastrous wedding ceremony, how will Feyre’s omega handle being away from her Alpha?

Words: ~1.3k

Warnings: smut, A/B/O dynamics/knotting

Author’s note: sooo it’s my first time writing in quite a bit. Like. Years. Also my first time writing smut, so apologies if it’s bad. But @acotar-omegaverse-week got me in the mood to write again finally, and tbh I’ve loved a/b/o for a long time and it’s just. Perfect in acotar. So yeah. Not written for any particular day, Written for day 2: turning up the heat, and just setting up the story a bit in this. Also I wrote this in one sitting and haven’t proofread… oops… and don’t know where exactly this is going.

18+ only

---

Feyre was upset. But she didn’t know why.

She had gone into heat for the first time nine months ago. In the days leading up to it, she hadn’t felt safe sleeping in such an open space, so she had created fluffy mound of pillows and blankets to surround all sides of her bed. That had helped soothe her anxieties a bit. But not enough.

She had even snuck a few of Tamlin’s shirts from his clothes bin, not feeling the slightest bit embarrassed about it when the added presence of his scent calmed her down and allowed her to sleep with only a few nightmares.

But then the cramping started. And the heat licking up her spine had been unbearable. Even a cold bath had only helped abate the fire for a few short minutes and she gave up and dragged herself back into her bed.

Tamlin had shown up a few hours later, tossing the pillows and fabrics at the end of the bed onto the ground as he eyed Feyre with a predatory glint in his eyes.

“Pretty omega,” he crooned, slowly getting on the bed, covering her naked body with his. “Did you need some help from your alpha?”

Feyre had whined, tugging at his shirt weakly, needing to feel his skin on hers, knowing it would help with the fire in her blood. “Please alpha, touch me,” she said, her voice breathless as she sucked in his scent.

Tamlin chuckled, pulling his shirt off over his head and throwing it to the side, Feyre’s eyes tracking where it landed, marking it for later. “I only have a couple of hours I can spare today, omega. I wish you’d told me you were nesting, I would have cleared my schedule in advance.” He paused, loosing a long breath into her neck, her answering breath in sharp and needy. He chuckled, pressing hard kisses to the side of her throat before sucking gently on her scent gland.

“Since you didn’t tell me, I won’t be able to help you much these first few days, omega.” More placating to her neck as she whined again. “I’ll have Lucien push anything after tomorrow, but maybe two days without your alpha’s knot will keep you from making that mistake again, hmm?” He finally, finally, placed a kiss on her mouth. And then her breasts. Then stomach.

She sighed a hum of agreement, just happy to finally have her alpha giving her the attention she needed, and threaded her hands into his hair, trying to push him lower with her remaining strength. He chuckled against her skin, before lapping up some of the slick that had been steadily leaking from her since this afternoon.

“Alpha,” Feyre whimpered, shifting her hips up into her face. “Need more. Please.” Tamlin smirked at her from between her thighs, his mouth gleaming with her slick.

“Need my knot, sweet omega?” A vigorous head shake later and Tamlin had shucked off his pants and lined up his cock with her cunt. “Good. I’m going to fill up this cunt, breed you full of pups. Would you like that omega?” Another head nod, tears forming at the edges of her eyes from the sheer need for him in that moment. He flashed another smirk at her, thrusting into her in one motion, pushing the air out of her lungs.

The stretch of him normally burned even when he went slow, but today? He fit perfectly in her, slick easing his way into her. As he pulled back, she sucked another breath in, preparing for the brutal pace she hoped he would set.

She wasn’t disappointed, the fast movements of his hips sending ice cold pleasure up her spine, and within minutes his knot had begun to catch in her, sending her into a blissful state, only thrown further in once his knot had locked him inside entirely, and he was spilling his seed deep inside her.

Finally, the heat had left her body.

Tamlin had rolled them to their sides, arms wrapped loosely around her. They sat in the quiet for a while, before his knot loosened and he pulled out of her, leaving her empty, and heat almost immediately started building in her abdomen again. A small whimper left her, and she tried to sit up to watch what Tamlin was doing, but collapsed back into her bed, only managing to angle her head in his direction.

He had already pulled his pants back on, and had moved to grab his shirt off the floor before looking at the fabrics lining the eyes of her bed. He pulled one of his shirts out from it, wrinkling his nose at it before dropping it. “Really Feyre? Stealing my clothes? Don’t do that anymore.”

Feyre frowned, not sure what was so wrong with it. “But your scent-”

“I don’t care omega, don’t steal my clothes anymore,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument as he put his shirt back on. “Anyways, I have a meeting I have to go to, I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t leave your room, I’ll have Alis or Ianthe come up in a bit to check on you.”

Tears filled Feyre’s eyes at the thought of being alone, or worse yet with Ianthe, in this state. “Alpha, please don’t leave,” she begged, managing to push herself onto her knees in the middle of her bed as something inside of her panicked.

Tamlin looked back at her, already with his hand on the doorknob. “Oh, omega,” he sighed, “I already told you this would happen. Just think of it lie a punishment for not telling me you were nesting when you started,” he said coldly, opening the door and shutting it behind him, the sound of it latching breaking the dam on her tears as she fell back into her bed- no, nest.

The rest of her heat had passed in a cramp filled haze, Tamlin stopping in when he had the time, but never for longer than it took for his knot to deflate. She remembered him saying something about his schedule, but couldn’t think of exactly what.

But that was over. The next two heats, three months apart each, had gone fine, though she woke up alone during most days which hurt the part of her that she’d figured out was her omega. She wanted to wake up in his arms, knowing he was there to help if the heat got too unbearable. But that had only happened two days total in her first three heats, in the year since she had been high fae. Not that he wouldn’t burst through her door in the middle of the night if he had a nightmare about her death again. Why he didn’t just sleep in her room, she didn’t know.

But today, that doesn’t matter. Today is her wedding day.

Today is her wedding day, yet Feyre is angry.

She is angry about her dress. The obnoxiously poofy, overly resembling-a-cupcake dress was horribly itchy on her skin, and is just ridiculous and not her at all. Her hair has been teased into a fluffy, curly mess with so many pins she just knows her head will be aching all day.

And her omega? Well, she is pissed about the fact her alpha still hadn’t but her scent gland, marking her as his forever, and he refused to answer why. And, well, her nest hadn’t had any of Tamlin’s scent in it besides what he left behind during her heats, as he wouldn’t let her take his clothes since her first one. She had been more on edge after every heat, and nearing them as well because of the lack of him.

Today is her wedding day, and she’s hoping that after today, during her next heat in a few days, Tam will give her the mating mark her omega is craving. Because if not… she feels she might go insane.