#it’s not perfect but I’m fine with that ^^

[the-based-brit]

Had me in the first half, I’m ngl.

Don't kill yourself.

Stay alive out of spite. Don't let them kill you.

Stay alive out of defiance. Don't let them kill you.

Stay alive out of rebellion. Don't let them kill you.

We've endured Hell before. We've endured the orange Hell before. We've endured fascism before.

We will continue to endure.

Please, do not kill yourself.

Out live his rule.

Out live him.

Protest.

Rebel.

Stay alive.

Please. Don't let them kill you.

[kateschi]

princesses explode things too!

synopsis: katsuki is tasked with the bedtime story today, and he shows you and your daughter his own version of a princess story.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: princess bakugou when

the quiet hum of the night settles over your home, and as you lean against the doorframe of your daughter’s bedroom, you can’t help but smile.

inside, katsuki sits on the edge of the bed, arms crossed, glaring down at the open storybook in his lap as if it’s personally insulted him.

"alright, brat," he grumbles, his voice low and rough as he tries to keep it from waking her up. "you wanted a story, so listen up. we’ve got a badass queen, explosions, and—"

your daughter, tucked under the covers with wide, eager eyes, interrupts him, her small voice cutting through the intensity of his storytelling. "papa, I want a princess story!"

bakugou’s brow furrows, his signature scowl deepening. "a princess story? that’s lame. why would you want a princess when you can have a warrior queen blowing things up?"

"princesses can fight too!" she insists, her tiny fists balled up in determination, a spark in her eyes that reminds you of her father.

you stifle a laugh, watching the interaction unfold. katsuki, in all his gruffness, isn’t built for soft, fluffy stories. still, he’s trying.

"fine," he mutters, flipping a page aggressively.

"once upon a time, there was a queen. but she wasn’t some weakling waiting to be saved, got it? she had explosions in her hands, just like me, and she blew up anyone who tried to mess with her."

your daughter giggles, her smile wide as she squirms under the blankets. "she had explosions?!"

"yeah, yeah," katsuki waves her off, but his lips twitch into a small, almost imperceptible smile.

"and she didn’t need any stupid prince to save her either. she took down a dragon by herself—boom!" he claps his hands together for emphasis, making your daughter laugh even harder.

you take the opportunity to step further into the room, catching katsuki’s attention. his eyes soften the moment he sees you, though his grumpy expression remains firmly in place.

"everything going alright in here?" you tease, crossing your arms as you lean against the wall.

he shoots you a look, his tone sarcastic.

"yeah, just perfect. you will be the death of me, kid," he mutters under his breath, but you notice the way he gently brushes a strand of hair from d/n’s face, his touch almost tender despite the rough words.

your daughter beams up at you. "mama, papa’s telling me a princess story! but she’s really strong, and she blows things up!"

you raise an eyebrow, looking between the two of them. "sounds intense. shouldn’t this be a bedtime story?"

katsuki sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. "I’m trying, alright? but she keeps asking for princesses. what am I supposed to do?"

you chuckle softly, moving closer to the bed as katsuki grumbles under his breath. "maybe you should throw in a castle or two. something soft to balance out the explosions?"

katsuki rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue, turning back to your daughter, who’s still gazing up at him with adoration.

"fine. the warrior queen had a giant, unbreakable castle. but instead of waiting around inside, she’d climb to the top and jump off it like a badass—"

"katsuki!" you scold, lightly tapping his arm. "that’s not calming."

your daughter, however, is delighted, giggling uncontrollably at the idea. "like a pro-hero! like you, daddy!"

he shoots you a smug grin, clearly proud of himself for entertaining her. "see? she loves it."

with a playful sigh, you sink down on the bed beside them. "alright, let’s compromise. maybe after she jumps off the castle, she finds a... magical garden with flowers and—"

"and traps!" katsuki adds, smirking as he leans into the story again. "where she fights off anyone dumb enough to step foot in it. but she doesn’t get scratched ‘cause she’s too fast."

your daughter is practically bouncing now, excitement filling the room as she claps her hands together. "she sounds so cool!"

"of course she is!" katsuki boasts. he glances over at you, his expression softening a bit. "but after all that, she finally goes to sleep. ‘cause even the strongest queens need to rest, right?"

your daughter yawns as if on cue, her eyelids drooping despite her best efforts to stay awake. "right..." she murmurs, snuggling deeper into the blankets.

you exchange a look with katsuki, both of you smiling as she finally gives in to sleep. katsuki leans down, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before pulling the covers up to her chin.

as you both stand and quietly make your way out of the room, katsuki glances at you with a grin. "told you my version would work."

you hum with a roll of your eyes before asking, "by the way, who is the badass queen?"

he looks at you. "you, obviously," he says, rolling his eyes before smirking. "my very badass wife."

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[jubshead]

𝐌𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐬𝐚

Paring: Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: The only person who could ruin a vacation in Italy was your stepmother, but what if she made it unexpectedly better?

A/N: Okay, so this was inspired by the second season of White Lotus and the title is in italian because I thought the english word was too crude.

I hope this isn’t too OOC, let me know!

This isn’t beta read and english isn’t my mother language, so bear with me.

Warnings: Face slapping, non-consensual spanking, dubious consent, unwanted arousal, degradation kink, face sitting.

I hope I didn’t leave anything behind, but if I did let me know.

Word count: 3.1k

Date: Nov 05, 2024

Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome!

Masterlist

Tag list: @jmkjournalblog @thecavalrywife @yourbasicqueerie @polaris-likethestar @riosslut @maevaofendora @yippie-kai-gay @w1theredroz3 (sorry for tagging you guys again, I’m making a few adjustments)

─────── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ───────

The sun shines through the blowing white curtains and into the bedroom. The last few days in Sicily were cloudy, and as pleasant as they had been, you’ve been longing for a day at the beach. The weather today was perfect for spending time in a bikini and staying at the hotel, not visiting any tourist spots or museums.

Italy is breathtaking. College was wearing you out, so spending a few weeks away from the student mentality is doing you good, it also helps that your father is paying for everything, even if it doesn’t erase the complicated relationship you two had.

Waking up early is mandatory in every vacation and today was especially easy. As soon as you had taken a peek at the open window of your room, you got out of bed. The constant tiredness you felt from your routine had vanished a few days into the city, and you were excited to make the most of it.

Skin glistening with sunscreen, you head downstairs for breakfast. The buffet was set up on a covered balcony with the chairs outside, where you could enjoy the view of the italian architecture as you ate. Grabbing a few fruits and a spoonful of eggs, you head out to find an empty table, only to catch sight of your father’s raised arm moving left and right to get your attention.

This vacation would be perfect if it weren’t for them. 

“Good morning.” You say, settling on one of the chairs.

Your greeting goes unanswered. Your father is back on his phone and your stepmother gives you a mouth pressed smile, doesn’t bother pretending she likes you. Every time you were in their presence, you felt like throwing up. Besides the fact that your father is 30 years older than her, you still hate both of them for the affair they had while your parents were together. 

You’ve always known your father was an asshole, but adultery was the final straw. The only reason you kept in contact with him was because of your mother. The saint she was, begged you to not distance yourself from him, scared you would be alone when she was gone, and how could you not grant a dying woman’s wish?

Rio was a cunt, but you couldn't deny that she was attractive. Your father wanting to stay with her wasn't a huge surprise. It was pretty clear, though, that the feeling wasn’t reciprocated. She was obviously with him for the money, and you were pretty sure she was cheating on him. Karma is a bitch, after all, and your dad’s time has finally come. 

Eating your meal slowly, you enjoy the light breeze blowing your hair back. Cargo navy blue shorts and an open white button shirt hide away your black bikini and when you stretch your arms up, you feel eyes on you. Turning towards your stepmother, you’re greeted with sunglasses covered eyes and a similar blouse to yours, her brown hair is down. 

“I have to get some work done, so I won’t be able to spend the day with you.” Your father tells you, finally looking up from the phone.

“That’s fine.” You reply, shoving a spoonful of papaya into you mouth 

Oh, thank goodness you wouldn't have to stay with them today. 

“Rio will go to the beach with you, though.” 

Your eye twitch at that. Glancing in her direction, you see her tongue poking into her cheek and a side smile, clearly enjoying your suffering. 

“I’m sure she would like to do something else. “ You try. 

“No, no. I want you to spend time together, get to know each other.” Your father and his need to make you two close, this whole trip was all about that and yet you still avoid her like you have done all these years. You’ve never wanted any kind of relationship with her and that wasn’t about to change. 

“Whatever.” You breathe out. 

“Come up to our room. Rio needs to change and I can give you girls some cash to go out and buy a few clothes.” Yeah, that wasn't going to happen. Spending as much time away from her as possible was one of your goals in this vacation.

He leaves his uneaten breakfast on the table and gets up. 

“Fine.” You concede. 

In the hallway, they walk ahead of you and you take a moment to watch them. Your father moves with the confidence of a rich white man with a plastic filled face. He’s in his 70's and doesn’t have the worst body, but if Rio was putting up with him because of money, it must be torture. She was clearly above his level, with black hair, slim body and defined arms. Anyone could see that. She had a powerful aura and walked with a sway to her hips. 

You look up when you realize you’re staring at her ass. 

The white door opens up with your dad's key card. Their bedroom is huge. The entrance leads to a living room with two couches and a coffee table. At the parallel wall to the entry, a large door opens to a balcony with a beautiful view of the mountains, the water constantly crashing against the rocks. Their bed is on the left side and is separated by a bow shaped wall, the other side of the room is the bathroom. It has a big counter with multiple beauty products. 

“I’m off. There’s a computer room downstairs, if anyone needs me, I’ll be there.” He hands you three hundred dollars and goes to kiss Rio. 

He holds her waist firmly and she turns her head before his lips contact with hers. She pushes him slightly back and pat his shoulders, you hold in your laugh. 

“Okay then.” He mutters embarrassed, ruffling your hair on his way out.

It doesn’t take 10 seconds after he leaves for you to turn to her and say. “Look, we don’t have to do this. I don’t want to spend time with you and I’m sure the sentiment is mutual.” 

She fake gasps at you, eyebrows raised and smirks. “You’re gonna hurt my feelings.” 

Rolling your eyes, you head to the bathroom to wash your hands, they feel sticky after eating the fruits from breakfast. You hear some movement in the bedroom and assume Rio is grabbing her bikini. The wardrobe door closes shut and you glance up in the mirror to watch your stepmother's figure walking behind you. You’re one step away from moving out of the restroom when she slips her blouse and shorts off. 

Time seems to stop as you watch her with her back to you, her ass is completely bare and you stare as she first ties the top knots of the two-piece. She bends to pull up the bottoms and you look down to your hands, your breath comes out shallowly, the image buried into your mind.

“Boo.” A voice says, her breath ghosts your ear and you try to hide your startlement. 

Looking up, you purse your lips. She’s standing a foot behind you and smiles smugly in your direction. When you turn around, her face is closer than you expected.

“What do you want?” You ask sharply.

“What do I want?” She repeats slowly, her fingers running through your hair ends. “You tell me.” She stares into your eyes and you squint, grabbing her shoulder and pushing her back.

“Fuck off.” You let out an incredulous laugh. “I always knew you were a whore, but this is beyond anything I’d have expected.” 

“Why? Are you still mad at me because of mommy?” She teases with a fake pout. 

Your entire face closes off and you take a step towards her. 

“Don’t talk about my mother. You could never be half of the woman she was.” 

“Oh, yeah? Your father would disagree.” 

The reaction is instantaneous. Your palm stings from the contact and you gape at her, surprised at your own slap. With your hand frozen in midair, you observe as her head turns back in your direction, her cheek is stained by red fingers and she lets out a breathy laugh, running her digits through it. 

“You are gonna regret that.” 

The apology that was about to come out of your mouth is cut off by the yank on your scalp, your body is forcefully rotated towards the sink and you hold the impact with your palms. The tug in your hair makes your back bend in an uncomfortable way and your neck aches as it’s pulled back. Rio pressed firmly against your arched ass and rested her chin on your shoulder, looking at your startled face through the reflection. Her nails sink in your flesh.

“What are you doing?” You breathe out, partially scared and slightly aroused. 

“Has anyones ever told you that you’re a brat?” She avoids your question with one with her own, you feel fingers running down your waist. 

“Has anyone ever told you?” You return. 

She scoffs as her mouth breaks into a grin, shaking her head left and right. The digits you felt moving through your covered skin grip you with full force and move to the front of your shorts, unbuttoning it. Panic flashes in your eyes as she pushes it down. You struggle against her hold and she pulls your hair harder. 

“Don’t fight it, sweetheart.” 

Breath catches in your throat when her fingers grab a handful of your bare ass. 

“Do you know how I tame a brat?” She whispers in your ear and answers her own question. “I teach her a lesson.” 

The sound of her palm colliding with your backside echoes off the white walls and your surprised yelp follows it. The slap doesn’t hurt, you could bet Rio didn’t put all her strength into it, the worst part, for sure, is that it felt good. The sting brings a delicious burn to your skin and you prevent yourself from asking for more.

The second time it happens, you grab harder into the counter. Words seem to fail you and you stand still, this whole thing feels like a fever dream. You look up at the mirror and see Rio’s eyes completely fixated on your ass, she smoothes her hands through it and you shudder. 

The one that follows is firmer and you groan, unable to contain yourself. Goosebumps mark your skin and your body reacts to the pain, shifting uncomfortably against your bikini.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” She asks, raising her brows and giving you a maniac grin.

“Fuck you.” 

She ‘tsks’ behind you and hums, slapping you three times in a row. The reaction is instantaneous and you hate yourself for pushing your ass back against her. 

“Who’s the whore now?” She asks in your ear and laughs. 

The taunting worsens your condition. Slick gathers in your underwear and you bite your lips, stressed by the way your body is reacting to your step mother. She doesn’t give you any type of relief and smacks you two more times. This torture seems to be going on forever, but you’ve only counted seven slaps. You had no idea how long it would last.

You’re about to speak when she strikes you one more time, with an open mouth, you aren’t able to contain the moan that escapes you and your face lights up like a christmas tree.

“You are so cute when you blush, sweetheart.” She tells you and licks your ear, her palm massages your sore butt and she adds. “Everytime we meet, I just want to have you all to myself.” She pulls back and looks at your pitiful position. Arched back, red ass and shorts bunched up mid-thigh, she runs tongue over her teeth. “When I saw the opportunity today, I just knew I had to take it. It’s so easy to rile you up and the fact that you hate me only makes it all the more delicious.” You shudder at her words. 

She is fucking mental. 

She surprises you for a second time with a spank. Tears well up in your eyes, the sting is worse than before and your arousal is burning you up from inside. The whole situation is making you dizzy, you feel like you’d fall down if Rio wasn’t holding you so tightly. Your neck hurts and you almost beg her to stop, but you couldn’t handle the humiliation, so you face it like a big girl. 

She delivers two more and you screw your eyes shut. One tear runs down your face and you feel Rio releasing the grip on your hair, turning you around to face her. 

“Ten slaps, that’s all. No need to cry.” She runs her thumb over your wet cheek. 

The sink presses against your backside and the cold of it helps with the burn, with your eyes still closed, you take a deep breath. You’re still in shock. 

“Did you learn your lesson?” She asks, her palms holding your wrist against your breasts. 

You stare at her for a second. Laughing at her smirk, you spit right in her face. She closes her eyes, whipping the dripping saliva with her fingers. Her entire face closes off, her patience seems to have run thin. 

She doesn’t say anything else, turns around and pulls you by the forearm. You struggle against her hold, but she’s stronger than you expected. Losing your balance when she throws you on the mattress, you don’t have time to get up before she’s upon you, holding your wrist above your head and kissing you roughly.

You hate yourself for it, but it doesn’t take 5 seconds for you to kiss her back. She’s in full control of the kiss and you writhe beneath her, failing to release your arms. Her tongue runs against yours and you can barely breathe from the intensity, your head spinning. 

One of her hands runs down your side to the bikini bottom. 

You suck in a breath when she separates. 

“I could eat you alive in this, couldn’t take my eyes off you at breakfast.” She tells you, licking your cheek. 

Her hand brushes the black fabric before pushing it aside, you are embarrassed by your state. Her fingers run through your wet folds, circling your entrance as you whine, desperate to be fucked.

“You are pathetic.” She says close to your face. 

Fuck your body for reacting the way it shouldn’t. The degradation turns you on even more and you feel your resolve crumbling. Rio chuckles at the intern battle she sees in your eyes. 

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to use that pretty little head of yours for long.” 

She rolls off of you. The opportunity to escape presents itself and you don’t move an inch, with your wetness sticking to your thighs, you just want Rio to have her way with you. She smirks at you and crawls up your body until she’s stradling your ribs. 

She doesn't put her full weight on you as she squeezes your cheeks and says. “Let’s see if this mouth is good for anything other than being disrespectful.”

You barely have time to understand the implication before her cunt completely shadows your vision. Her bikini is set aside and she pushes her hips down, making you grip her thighs in an attempt to control her pace. Giving up on your moral high ground, you lick a stripe up her lower lips. She hums on top of you and grinds down, her juices smear on your chin and you’ve only just begun. Apparently you weren’t the only one affected by the spanking.

Focusing your attention elsewhere, you leave a hard bite on her inner thigh, taking your hatred on her skin. She moans and sits completely on your face, making it impossible to breathe. 

“You better get to work, sweetheart.” She mocks you and amends. “Before you pass out.”

You fully believe she’d let that happen so with renewed energy, you grab into her butt and grind her center against your face. Your tongue circles her entrance before going in. Hearing her hand grab the headboard, you begin to move in and out. Your pace is rapid and she seems to enjoy it as she starts to ride your face. Sucking her lower lips makes her groan on top of you, so you repeat the motion and squeeze a handful of her ass, making her moan. 

With little breath, you stick your tongue out and let her chase her own orgasm. She slowly moves in circular motion and spreads her juices around your face. Her movement picks up speed and within seconds she’s bouncing against your mouth. You grip her ass tightly and feel your nose bumping against her clit. 

She becomes a moaning mess on top of you. 

For someone who can’t breathe, however, eternity seems to pass as you struggle to keep up with her. She is clearly on the edge and trying to reach her peak, so, in a last attempt to get her off of you, you run your tongue all the way up before sucking her clit as hard as you can. 

Her movement comes to a halt and you feel her body tensing up, her thighs tighten around your head and your ears ring from the pressure. Her orgasm finally hits and she shudders on top of you, breathing heavily and letting out unrestrained moans. 

She collapses beside you and you take the biggest gulp of air you can manage. Your breathing is as ragged as hers and you curse yourself for having a weakness for older women, this shouldn't have happened. 

Silence befalls you for about a minute as Rio gathers herself and you contemplate your life choices. As soon as her breathing is slower, she gets up on her knees in the bed. All your previous worries leave your mind as soon as she’s back upon you, straddling your waist and biting her lips.

She kisses you and grasps the wrists that hold her face, you press your center against hers and let out a whine when she pulls back and gets out of the bed. With a puzzled face, you sit up and ask.

“Where are you going?” 

“To the beach.” She simply says, grabbing a sun hat and putting it on. 

“What?” You rapidly blink.

“You heard me.” Her face breaks into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen in her sulking face. 

“Rio.” You whine like a petulant child. 

She comes towards you and gives you a long peck. Your mouth follows hers  as she pulls away.

“Brats don’t get rewards.” She states and heads for the door, exiting the room with a witchy cackle as you throw yourself back onto the bed. 

[eddiemunchem]

📄 what my dreams are made of | time and time again, eddie has seen you cry over guys that aren’t even worth your time; so, when he catches you crying once more, he decides it’s the last time — and he will show you that you’re exactly what his dreams are made of.

⚠️ 3.6k words, fem!reader, reader has a pussy, bestfriend!eddie, friends to lovers, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, kinda dom!eddie, passionate eating out, chubby!coded reader (no extreme graphic depictions but certainly alluded), bullying, some triggering themes, self-doubt that eddie smothers out, 1 thigh pinch, eddie cums in his pants (i was sick while writing this please forgive me if it’s not the best)

💋 i am genuinely so, so sorry for how long this took to get out bby! i always do my best to prioritize comfort reqs, as that’s my purpose for even taking reqs and really writing in the first place, and i wish i could have gotten this out much sooner. i hope this can bring you some comfort sweetheart, you are so so beautiful!! <33

you were so fucking stupid.

so stupid for being so naive. for ever allowing yourself to entertain the fantasy that the christian grosso could ever be attracted to you.

after all, the students of hawkins high dubbed you ‘the elephant amongst tigers’ for a reason.

angry tears slipped down your face as you threw your bag to the floor, uncaring of the loud thump it provoked. your mother was downstairs and likely heard it, and she’d probably even ascend the stairs and try to rib you for information — but you couldn’t find the energy to care.

you couldn’t find the energy to feel anything aside from angry sadness. and if your mom did come check on you, you’d simply tell her you’re feeling sick. yeah, that would work.

with a huff you plopped down on the edge of your bed, upsetting the stuffies strewn along the headboard. you gave them an apologetic wince.

your mind kept replaying the lunchroom disaster. christian’s mocking, mean smirk as he held up a dress two times too small for you was branded into your eyelids.

“oooh, i’m sorry. i thought this was your size. looks like we can’t make it to the dance after all. i’m so sorry.”

fresh tears burst from your eyes and you choked down a sob. it was so mean, so humiliating, so evil… you didn’t understand what you’d ever done to deserve something like that. was simply existing enough of a crime to warrant that kind of punishment?

a soft knock reached your ears. you sucked in a shuddery inhale. you were wondering when she’d amble up to your door.

“i’m fine, mom.” you croaked out. “i just feel sick. please don’t come in.”

you really didn’t want her to see the fat, ugly tears running down your cheeks. didn’t want her to see how blotched your makeup was, especially not when you had spent a literal hour perfecting it in front of your mirror.

so. fucking. stupid.

your door creaked open and you nearly gasped at the familiar clunk of heavy boots across your planked floor. you snapped your head up to find eddie standing just through your doorway, chocolate eyes rounded and soft.

“you okay?” he asked quietly, soothingly, and your heart sunk.

he knew about what happened. he hadn’t been in the lunchroom at the time, but you knew it would reach him; it was all the student body could talk about.

you opened your mouth to reject his sympathy; but what came out was a strangled sob, and eddie was rushing to your side immediately.

warm, thick arms wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you into eddie’s equally warm body. your head was guided to his collarbone, so close to his neck that you could smell his sharp cologne; a familiar, cozy, thick woodsy scent.

he’d been wearing the same aroma since eighth grade, and it never failed to bring you a sense of tranquility and stability. comfort. safety.

you broke.

“eddie.” you choked out, digging your cheek into his chest and slipping your arm around his middle. he was warm; so, so warm. just like always.

“shh, it’s okay.” eddie soothed, ringed hand running through your hair. “it’s okay, sweets.”

your shoulders shook harder as you spilled gallons of salty tears into his shirt — his iron maiden shirt, if you weren’t mistaken.

you barely noticed the way he was rocking your body with his softly, or the weight of his chin hooked atop your head, but you were painfully aware of how good his hand felt skimming through your hair, and how comfortable the weight of it was.

“i-i don’t understand.” you gasped out between heaves. “i don’t k-know w-what i did.”

“you didn’t do anything.” eddie stated, voice firm yet gentle. “you didn’t do anything, angel. they’re just assholes.”

you weren’t sure how long you spent wrapped within eddie’s embrace; his strong arms holding you, soft voice shushing you, gentle hand caressing you — but at some point, your sobs had faded to mere sniffles.

you finally felt secure enough to pry yourself out of his embrace; eddie loosened his hold, but his arm remained over your shoulder — an anchor, should you need the support.

“i’m so tired of it, eddie.” you whispered, voice wet and croaky from all the crying. “i’m so tired of being ugly.”

your heart was breaking into a million pieces, yet also somehow felt as if it was too big to fit comfortably in your chest. every beat was painful, tightly wrapped in a ribbon of sadness.

eddie sucked in air through his teeth and muttered something under his breath; you weren’t quite able to catch it, so you nudged him with your elbow.

“i didn’t hear you, eds. what did you say?”

eddie’s eyes snapped up to yours, and you felt your heart skip in your chest. they were soft, yet had a hard edge to them, one that you couldn’t place.

“i said you’re not ugly.” eddie pushed out, anger detectable in his voice, but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you. eddie always became incensed when things like this happened.

“that prick just took things too far.” eddie seethed, drawing a ringed hand through his hair. “way too far.”

you swallowed thickly and nodded mutely, though you didn’t know if you fully agreed with eddie. after all, if things weren’t supposed to be this way, then why were they? it’s because everything, every single word and insult, that everyone threw at you was true.

“it wouldn’t happen if i wasn’t so—”

“don’t you fucking dare.” eddie snapped, cutting you off abruptly and shocking you into silence. he’d never taken that kind of tone with you. as if realizing this himself, eddie sucked in a deep breath and started again, much more softly.

“don’t say some shit about how you deserve it, or that it’s somehow your fault. it’s not. you know it’s not.”

fresh tears gathered in your eyes, and you had to look away from eddie quickly so as to not alert him to the swelling.

“but i was stupid. i let myself think he was genuine.” you countered back, wanting — no, needing — eddie to understand that in some way, this was your fault. that was the easiest way to explain it. that it was the only way that it made sense.

“stop that.” eddie ordered, fingers squeezing your shoulder. “you aren’t stupid.”

“eddie, i am.” you exploded, propelling yourself up from the bed and effectively launching eddie’s arm off of your shoulders. you began to pace as you rambled, “i’m stupid to think anyone would want me, let alone christian grosso, and i let myself get tricked into thinking that my crush actually liked me back—”

“i want you.”

the world seemed to screech to a halt right on its axis. eddie hadn’t said the words very loud — as a matter of fact, his statement was barely more than a whisper — and yet, it seemed to reverberate around your room like the boom of a bass speaker.

slowly, you turned your head to train your eyes on him. you searched his face, looking for some sort of deception, lie, fib — anything.

but all you found was pained sincerity.

“what?” you pressed, throat tight and tongue nearly tied. had you heard him right? were you having some sort of fever dream?

eddie sighed deeply and linked his hands together between his knees.

“i said ‘i want you.’ i have for a long time, actually.”

eddie’s words didn’t sound bored, or disingenuous, but they sounded almost… resigned. as if knew what little effect they’d have on you. twice. he’d said twice. yet you still couldn’t wrap your head around it.

“you — you… want me?” you parroted back, gesturing to yourself with a finger.

eddie nodded.

“are you sure?” you pressed.

eddie nodded again, more emphatically this time.

your heart was trembling in your chest — eddie actually wanted you? you? eddie, who was handsome, funny, charming, sweet, and completely and utterly unavailable due to his status as your best friend, wanted you?

no. this couldn’t be right. there must be some sort of mistake.

“but, how do you—”

“oh, jesus h. christ.” eddie suddenly bursted, pushing himself up from the bed and stomping towards you. you barely had any time to react before his hands grasped your elbows and he pulled you forward, and electricity shot through your entire body when he leaned down to press his lips firmly to yours.

the kiss was chaste, more of just a hugging of lips, but that’s how it was intended — eddie was getting a point across, and as hard as it was for you to truly believe it, you could feel it within that kiss.

the truth that eddie munson, your best friend of almost a decade, wanted you.

and that very best friend was kissing you. and it felt amazing.

your hands, as inexperienced as they were, traveled up to grip his shoulders, and you took the first step in deepening the kiss by clumsily lapping your lips over his.

eddie groaned and responded with a similar action; except, his movements were much more fluid and smooth, likely from years of experience in the field.

you hated the way that made jealousy burn in your gut.

eddie’s hands fell from your elbows to come to rest on your hips, where he gripped rather roughly. a sound similar to a moan slipped from his mouth and into yours, the sensation sending heat flooding straight to your gut.

“fuck, you have no idea how much i’ve wanted to do this.” eddie panted, kneading his fingers into your hips. “just grab these beautiful fucking hips of yours.”

your stomach swooped and your skin flushed beneath his words; you felt slightly self conscious of the portion of body eddie was grabbing, but eddie seemed to fall absolutely feral over it.

his lips remained hooked to yours as he stumbled backwards, pulling you with him. you followed blindly along with him, loathe to break the hot, wet embrace between the two of you, and nearly gasped when eddie fell flat to the bed and pulled you down with him.

“eddie!” you exclaimed softly into his mouth when you realized you’d landed on top of him, but when you tried to scramble off, eddie wrapped his arms around your midsection.

“don’t even think about it.” eddie murmured, voice little more than a growl, “stay on top of me, pretty girl.”

you whimpered low in your throat, the sound swallowed by eddie’s fiery lips, and you couldn’t stop yourself from wiggling in his hold. you didn’t feel comfortable like this, not in this position—

eddie rolled his hips up and completely cut off your train of thought; poking into your tummy was something hard, something hard and located between eddie’s legs.

“feel that, angel? feel what you’re doin’ to me?” eddie growled, rolling his hips in lazy thrusts. that heat in your gut intensified, and you couldn’t help it when the smallest whimper fell from your lips.

“god, you sound so fuckin’ pretty.” eddie groaned, hands smoothing down your body until they found purchase on your ass. he squeezed the flesh in his fingers and used the leverage to rock your body into his.

“wanted you for so goddamn long, i almost can’t hold myself back.”

eddie’s kiss was feverish now — not clumsy, but passionate and wet. his lips moved against yours as if he was trying to make up for years of neglect in one kiss, and his tongue and teeth scraped against your lips at intermittent points. your brain felt completely frozen, unsure of how to even match his pace.

“use your tongue, sweetheart.” eddie guided, as if reading your mind. “use your tongue like i am.”

you doubted you could use your tongue the same way eddie could use his, but you wanted to try. slipping your tongue against his felt strange, slimy, but not uncomfortable — and he tasted minty, like peppermint, so it wasn’t gross like you thought it would be.

you were certain your movements were clumsy, but they pulled satisfied groans from eddie regardless. his hips bucked up against you faster and his breathing turned shallow.

“fuck, good girl.” eddie moaned, sliding a hand up your back to tangle in your hair. he pushed you impossibly closer to him and deepened the kiss.

your entire body was buzzing, heated from the inside out, and there was a tingle between your legs. a warm, wet tingle.

“eddie,” you mewled into his mouth, hips shifting on their own, as if they were searching for something. “i feel weird.”

“i know, angel. just hold on.” eddie uttered, hips still careening into yours, hard-on grinding against you through the clothes. what was this weird pull in your stomach?

eddie’s lips remained against yours for a few more seconds, all the while you wiggled, whimpered and mewled into him, until he finally relented and pulled away.

“lay on your back, babygirl. i’m gonna show you something.” eddie prompted, voice deep gravel, eyes swallowed by black.

you swallowed when something kicked in your gut, and the moment eddie released his hold on you you scrambled off of him and fell on your back beside him. eddie was quick to mirror your actions, but rather than lying down, he crawled to the end of the bed and situated himself by your legs.

“open.” he demanded softly, and for the first time since his lips touched yours, you felt legitimate hesitance. you stared at him almost blankly, body quivering subtly in your skin. eddie arched a brow at you and fuck, that was pretty hot.

“angel, spread your legs.” eddie murmured, fingers coming up to caress the bare skin of your thigh. his voice was a rumble, enticing and sweet, but somehow comforting... like you didn't have to be afraid of obeying.

with a shaky breath you finally assented and spread your thighs open, snapping your eyes shut when eddie sucked in a sharp breath.

"fuck, look at these panties. so cute." you nearly jumped from your skin when eddie slid a finger up your mound, a sort of electric feeling throbbing through your hips when his fingertip scraped against your clit.

"they're nearly soaked through, baby." eddie cooed, continuing the stroking motions, pulling small moans and pants from your lips. “did you get this worked up just from kissing me?”

for some reason you couldn’t place, you nodded your head — it was as if you had no real control of some of your motor functions, like part of you was in some sort of trance.

“mmm, sweet baby.” eddie whispered darkly. “you have no idea what i could do to you.”

as if to punctuate his point, eddie pressed his finger to your clothed clit and rubbed, and fuck, it felt so good.

you’d touched yourself before, but never had it felt this intense. the moans that slipped from your mouth were purely lewd and near foreign.

“e-eddie, what’s—?”

“shhh, angel. don’t question anything. just feel.” eddie murmured, effectively silencing your inquiries. eddie continued to rub your clit, picking up pace as your moans grew in volume, as your hips bucked into his hand.

it felt good, so incredibly good, but the pleasure seemed muted — the friction not enough to build you up to that wonderful precipice.

“eddie—”

“yeah, baby, i know. you’re ready f’more.” eddie teased, and even with your eyes closed, you knew he was smirking. your breathing was labored, you felt desperate, it was hot—

“‘m gon’a take care of you, baby.” eddie soothed. “gon’a show you how beautiful you are.” eddie slid his hands up your thighs and dipped them beneath your skirt, fingers grasping the lace of your panties and tugging. you followed the unspoken command and lifted your hips, allowing him to slip you free of the garment.

any prior hesitation you felt had been forcefully shoved out by lust.

cold air blew against your pussy the moment it was no longer shielded, and you gasped at the sensation. you didn’t really have the time to complain about it, however, because before you could it was swallowed by heat once more.

wet heat.

your eyes popped open and you glanced down to find eddie’s head nestled between your thighs, dark eyes peering up at you as he dragged his tongue over your aching clit. he did so slowly, torturously, as if he was merely giving you a taste of what he could truly do.

you opened your mouth but all that fell out was a wanton moan. this was something completely out of your experience, something you’d only thought about fleetingly.

eddie groaned into your cunt when your clit throbbed under his tongue, and he dipped the wet muscle down to prod at your slit before slipping it back up. he was lapping at you like a dog, tongue everywhere, as if he wanted to brand the memory of your shape against it.

“eddie,” you whined, hips shaking against him. eddie let out a strange sound as he gripped at your thighs and squeezed, head shaking side to side subtly and sending shocks up your body from the new sensation.

“fuck, taste so good,” eddie whimpered into you, the sound high and needy. “can’ get ‘nough.”

you gasped and cinched your eyes shut, that tension ramping up in your gut and pulling your muscles tight. it felt so fucking good, you were going to go insane.

“mm-mm, no.” eddie suddenly growled and pinched your thigh. you jumped from the pain and snapped your eyes down to him. “fuckin’ look at me, angel. i wan’a see your face when you cum.”

despite the strong urge to look away and the undercurrent of embarrassment beneath your skin, you simply couldn’t tear your eyes away from eddie’s. satisfied with obtaining your full focus, eddie went right back to devouring you.

his tongue was demonic against your cunt, lapping at your folds and flattening across your clit. soft groans and growls fell from his lips as he munched, hands leaving finger shaped bruises on your thighs from how hard he was gripping them.

how it could feel so damn good, you didn’t know. you’d heard talk, yeah, but so many girls had also said that they’d never cum from head before… you just assumed you’d be the same.

but with the way eddie was working your cunt with his lips and tongue, you were realizing you’d be the exception.

“fuck, shit,” you whispered, eyes locked with eddie’s, staring into twin abysses. his own hips rocked into the mattress as his tongue traced over your clit, stimulating himself against your bed. and that just seemed to make it hotter.

“i’m so close.” you murmured, reverently, rendered breathless from the pleasure eddie was shoving into your system. his eyes darkened even more, if that were possible, and his movements became much more feverish. one hand slipped from your thigh and you gasped when you felt a fingertip prod at your entrance.

“eddie,” you warned, anxiety settling in your stomach. even you hadn’t put anything in there; what if it hurt?

“trust me, angel. i won’t hurt you.” eddie murmured against your cunt, tracing his finger up and down your slit. you swallowed, still hesitant, but you trusted eddie — so you nodded.

eddie groaned low in his throat and focused his tongue against your clit, assaulting it with fast flicks. his finger slipped into your entrance with nearly no resistance, and you gasped when he curled it up against something.

“there it is,” eddie cooed, pumping his finger inside you languidly. “there’s that sweet spot, baby.”

you had no idea what he was talking about — but fuck if it didn’t feel so fucking good. your fingers twisted into the blanket beneath you, lips swollen and wet, throat nearly sore from all the moaning.

eddie fucked his finger into you at a near brutal speed, hitting that spot over and over, and you could feel it building — powerful and intense, nearly rupturing your stomach from how tense your muscles were. you couldn’t help the way you thrusted your hips against his face, against his tongue, shoving his finger deeper inside you.

chasing it. that euphoric high.

“fuck yeah, shit. c’mon angel, bust in my fuckin’ mouth.” eddie growled, and that was it — one final jab to that spot, one more flick of his tongue, and you were absolutely losing it.

your thighs and hips quaked as that coil finally snapped, fluid gushing around eddie’s finger and undoubtedly soaking the bed, walls fluttering and clit throbbing under his tongue.

“fuck, fuck, fuck—” you chanted, eyes rolling back as your muscles continued to tense and release. eddie lapped his tongue around his finger, groaning at your sweet taste.

your orgasm was slow to recede, the aftershocks still wracking your body when eddie slipped his finger out and rose to his knees — if your vision wasn’t so fuzzy you would have noticed the prominent wet spot covering the front of his jeans.

exhaustion crawled into your limbs with frightening speed, your muscles almost like jelly, and when eddie flopped down at your side and gathered you into his arms you were little help with it.

“do you believe me now, angel?” eddie murmured, and all you could do was nod sleepily. the edges of your vision was turning black, sleep well on its way to claiming you.

“good. don’t you ever forget it.” was the last thing you heard before you fell to the abyss, warm, satisfied, and comfortable.

completely and utterly loved.

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

need a bigger size

✰ summary: you’re six months pregnant and calling your husband to help you put on the jeans you just can’t seem to wear right now.

✰ warnings: MDNI!! satoru gojo x fem reader, pregnant reader, soon to be dad satoru, mentioning of sex

✰ a little note: i apologize for it being a bit short. i hope you like it. also, you can tell that i wrote this during my ovulation.

“Ugh… please, please fit. I really don’t want to buy another pair of pants.”

The sixth month of your pregnancy hadn’t exactly been a breeze. Your belly was getting bigger, and the clothes you bought just two weeks ago were barely fitting. Could a person really gain this much weight in two weeks?

As you struggled to pull your jeans up over your hips, you were truly at your limit. Moments like this made you question why you were pregnant in the first place. A simple act of getting dressed had turned into a sweaty, intense battle. You had no choice but to play your last card.

“Satoruuu! Can you come here for a second, please?”

As you kept struggling with your jeans, you heard footsteps approaching the bedroom. You looked miserably toward the door, seeing your husband with his perfect, well-kept hair standing there, giving you an amused look. You, on the other hand, had sweat-plastered hair sticking to every part of your face.

“I didn’t know you wanted to have a quick fuck so bad before we went shopping.”

Your husband was truly straightforward. But right now, more than a quick fuck, you needed to fit into these $70 jeans.

“How on earth did you think I wanted that?”

While leaning against the doorframe, Satoru walked over and stood in front of your struggling body.

“First, you’re trying to take off your pants. Second, you’ve been moaning for the past five minutes and—”

“OH MY GOD NO! I’VE JUST BEEN TRYING TO PUT ON THESE DAMN JEANS FOR THE PAST HALF HOUR, SATORU.”

The mischievous grin on your husband’s face instantly transformed into disappointment. Did he really not realize you were just trying to put on your jeans?

“So, the moans that I could hear all the way in the living room were just because of your jeans?” He sounded so genuinely let down that, as mad as you were, you felt a bit sorry for him.

“FINALLY, YOU GET IT.”

Your husband went into defense mode. “Hey, calm down, wifey. As your husband, who’s constantly thinking about wanting you, of course I’d think that way.”

“Gosh I’m so sorry. Pregnancy is really making me so irritable.” You hadn’t even realized you were yelling, and it upset you to treat the person you loved most in the world this way. All the blame lay on these cursed jeans, which had fit just fine two weeks ago.

A sweet smile appeared on Satoru’s face as he cupped your face and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. “Never apologize to me. Alright, then, let’s get these jeans on you and head out shopping!”

Satoru moved behind you and took hold of the jeans stuck just below your hips. “Okay, this might be a bit tough, but take a deep breath, baby.”

Listening to him, you took a deep breath and allowed him to work the jeans over your hips. After a few challenging minutes, he’d finally managed to help you get them on.

“You might actually be the strongest, Satoru.” As you buttoned your jeans, he moved to stand in front of you again.

“I know, sweetheart. I’m always the strongest for you and our babygirl.”

After managing to fasten the buttons, you threw your arms around his neck with a triumphant smile. “I should have stopped you from getting me pregnant that night. Being pregnant is seriously tough. I bought these jeans just two weeks ago, and now they barely go over my ass”

“You’re the one who said you’d kill me if I didn’t get you pregnant that night, wifey. Besides,” he paused for a moment and placed his hands on your full hips, giving them both a firm squeeze, “if I’d known these amazing things would be this big, I would’ve gotten you pregnant the day I first saw you.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, giving him a quick peck on the lips before turning around to grab the shirt you’d left on the bed. “Let me just put on this shirt real quick and we-”

The sound of ripping made you freeze, and your hands instinctively reached to feel the tear right where your backside was. Your jeans had split straight down the middle.

“Shit, shit, shit… GOD, I PAID 70 DOLLARS FOR THESE DAMN JEANS!” You cursed angrily at them, glancing at the rip in the mirror. Your husband, as if he’d been waiting for this exact moment, was happily staring at the split right in the center of your backside.

“I guess this might be a sign that I should fuck you before we go shopping.”

Yeah, it really was, because after he finished speaking, he started kissing you hungrily. Later that day, while out shopping for baby items, you ended up buying a new pair of jeans. You just hoped they wouldn’t tear from the back after wearing them.

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

[mr-tony-stark]

“Oh you’ll be fine,” Tony said, grabbing two whiskey glasses.  He added some ice and poured in the drink.  It settled into a golden layer on the bottom and a creamy white layer on the top.  He sprinkled bitters on top, drew a line through them, then garnished with a lemon peel. “Go fleece someone at pool.  I bet you’d be able to do trick shots, right? Mr Perfect shot.”

He pushed the drink over to him.  He shrugged. “I’m not blaming myself for what happened.  I know it wasn’t me that hurt you.  We’re all Avengers.  We’re all here to try and keep the world safe.  We know what risks that entails.  I hated you getting hurt, and it scared the shit out of me.  But you’re okay now and I’m working on making it so we have a better way to respond to this shit.”  He took a sip of the drink. “How are you doing?”

Clint couldn’t help but chuckle and shook his head. “Better than that? I think beer and bourbon is pretty good,” he spoke and chuckles again and shook his head but sat down at the bar stool and watched him as he made the drink for him. He looked at him and smiled a bit as he tilted his head.

“Well yes, I just, I’m not really good at small talk,” he spoke and wrinkles his nose. “How’s the weather? Well, I don’t know know, wet?” He spoke and snorted a bit shook his head. “I saw that Natasha was here aswell, might go check in on her because well, you wherent the only one traumatised by me almost dying,” he spoke and smiled a little.

“How.. are you about that, by the way? You’re not.. blaming yourself or something like that?” He asks and wrinkles his eyebrows a bit.

[onlyhereforpazzi]

Happy Birthday P.

Author note: This is late but we all know life gets hard and well I am finally ready to share this with you all.

Word count: 1373

Warning: Fluff smut slight cursing.

Smut warnings

The morning sun streamed through the window, illuminating the cozy apartment shared by Paige Bueckers and Azzi Fudd. Today was a day of celebration—Paige’s birthday! Azzi had been planning a surprise for weeks, and she was eager to make it special.

As Paige rolled out of bed, she was greeted by the delicious aroma of freshly baked muffins. Intrigued, she quickly got dressed and made her way to the kitchen. There, she found Azzi, wearing a bright yellow apron, bustling around with a smile that could light up the room.

“Happy birthday, Paige!” Azzi exclaimed, turning to face her with a tray of warm muffins. “I made your favorite—blueberry!”

Paige’s heart swelled with joy. “You’re the best, Azzi! This is amazing!” She took a muffin and bit into it, savoring the sweet and tangy flavor. “Mmm, these are perfect!”

After breakfast, Azzi led Paige to the living room, where she had decorated the space with colorful balloons and a big banner that read “Happy Birthday, Paige!” The sight made Paige’s heart flutter. “You really went all out!” she said, beaming.

“Only the best for my favorite person,” Azzi replied, her cheeks slightly pink. “Now, I have a surprise for you. Are you ready?”

“Absolutely!” Paige said, her excitement bubbling over.

Azzi handed Paige a blindfold. “Trust me, okay? No peeking!”

Paige giggled but complied, allowing Azzi to guide her outside. The cool breeze brushed against her skin as they walked. “Where are we going?” Paige asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

“Just a little further…” Azzi said, her voice filled with delight.

After a short walk, Azzi stopped and gently removed the blindfold. Paige blinked against the sunlight and gasped at the sight before her. They were at a beautiful park, filled with vibrant flowers and a small picnic setup under a shady tree. A cozy blanket was spread out, surrounded by a basket filled with treats and a small cake adorned with candles.

“Wow, Azzi! This is incredible!” Paige exclaimed, her heart racing with happiness.

“I wanted to do something special for you,” Azzi said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Let’s celebrate!”

They settled onto the blanket, enjoying the delicious spread that Azzi had prepared. As they laughed and shared stories, the atmosphere felt magical. Paige couldn’t help but admire how thoughtful Azzi had been, and how much she cherished their time together.

After finishing their picnic, Azzi pulled out the cake. “Okay, make a wish!” she said, lighting the candles.

Paige closed her eyes and made her wish, then blew out the candles. “What did you wish for?” Azzi asked playfully.

“I can’t tell you! It won’t come true,” Paige replied with a teasing smile.

“Fine, I’ll let it slide this time,” Azzi said, rolling her eyes dramatically. “But you owe me!”

They spent the afternoon playing games, taking photos, and enjoying each other’s company. As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden light over the park, Paige felt a wave of gratitude wash over her.

“Azzi, thank you for today. It’s been the best birthday ever,” Paige said sincerely, looking into Azzi’s eyes.

Azzi smiled softly, her gaze steady. “I’m so glad you’re happy. You deserve the world, Paige.”

Paige felt her heart race, realizing how much Azzi meant to her. “You make me so happy, Azzi. I don’t think I could have asked for a better friend… or a better day.”

Azzi’s expression softened, and she reached for Paige’s hand. “Paige, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

“What is it?” Paige asked, her heart pounding.

“I… I love you. I really do. More than just as a friend,” Azzi confessed, her cheeks turning a shade of pink.

Paige felt a rush of warmth and joy. “I love you too, Azzi! I’ve felt this way for a while now, but I didn’t know how to say it.”

In that moment, the world around them faded away, and all that mattered was the connection they shared. They leaned in closer, their hearts racing, and shared a sweet, tender kiss under the setting sun.

As they pulled away, both of them grinned, feeling lighter than air. “Happy birthday, Paige,” Azzi said, her voice filled with warmth.

“Best birthday ever,” Paige replied, her heart full of love and happiness as they sat together, hand in hand.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Paige looked at Azzi, her eyes sparkling. “So, what now? Do we just sit here and bask in our newfound love?”

Azzi chuckled, her laughter like music to Paige’s ears. “Well, I have a few more surprises up my sleeve if you’re up for it!”

“More surprises? You’ve already done so much!” Paige said, her curiosity piqued.

“Just a little something to make this day even more memorable,” Azzi said, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “I thought we could go to that little ice cream shop you love. You know, the one with the giant sundae?”

Paige’s face lit up. “Oh, I’m definitely in for that! Let’s go!”

They packed up their picnic and made their way to the ice cream shop, laughing and teasing each other along the way. Once they arrived, they stood in front of the colorful menu, eyes wide with excitement.

“What are you getting?” Azzi asked, glancing at Paige.

“I think I’ll go for the triple chocolate fudge sundae,” Paige declared, her mouth watering at the thought.

“Bold choice! I’m going for the classic strawberry shortcake,” Azzi replied, her smile contagious.

After placing their orders, they found a cozy spot outside to enjoy their treats. The sun had dipped below the horizon, and the stars began to twinkle in the night sky. They shared their sundaes, feeding each other bites and giggling at the whipped cream that occasionally ended up on their noses.

“This is perfect,” Paige said, her heart swelling with happiness. “I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you in my life.”

Azzi looked at her, sincerity in her eyes. “You make every day better, Paige. I’ve always admired your passion and determination. You inspire me.”

Paige felt a blush creep up her cheeks. “You inspire me too, Azzi. I don’t think I would be the player I am without your support and friendship.”

As they finished their sundaes, Azzi leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You know, I’ve always dreamed of sharing moments like this with someone special. I never expected that someone would be you.”

Paige’s heart raced at Azzi’s words. “Me too. I’ve always felt a connection with you that goes beyond friendship. It’s like we were meant to find each other.”

With a shared look of love and care for eachother. Eventually they return to Paige’s apartment, “So what else do you wanna do, birthday girl?” Azzi asks as she stares at the tall blonde’s blue eyes. “I wouldn’t mind a birthday make out session..” The blonde grinned, planting her hands on the younger girl's hips before kissing her slowly, the dark skinned girl returned the kiss and they began their way to Paige’s bedroom. *Time skip like 15 minutes homie* “Mmm Azzi yeah..” Paige groaned as she stared down at the younger girl's head between her thighs and her hands in her curly black hair, “so good yeah..” Her hips buck up to please herself, grinding into the girl's face. Azzi pulled her head back and spat gently before continuing. “Going come Az..” “Do it P.” Azzi mumbled against her folds, and so Paige did she release on Azzi’s tongue. Azzi came up for air, some cum on that button like that nose Paige loved.

Paige wiped it off and kissed her nose before pulling down the shorts of the younger girl rubbing her clit softly as she kissed her lips in chaste (is that a real word?) quick kisses. Eventually Azzi begged enough for Paige to slip a finger in teasing before a second. She curled her fingers into the younger girl smirking as her moans filled the room. Soon a third finger joined the dance and the rest is history.

“Happy birthday P.” Assistant mumble before hiding her head in the arms of Paige’s to tired to care.

—--------------------------—------------------------

Thank you for reading, sorry for the delay again. I hope this finds you well. Just because Kamala lost doesn’t mean we need to lose you too. 

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Hii, I love your fics, especially the Moon Knight ones, sometimes I'm so giddy that I need to take a step back and remember myself that they aren't real.

May I request headcanons about the Moon Boys overhearing reader talking to their pet (probably a kitten) about how much they love the boys, and their quirks and their little differences and just going on and on about how perfect they are?

I understand if not, I will love whatever you post regardless!

Oh my gosh, this is so adorable! I hope I did it justice!

Just Happy

Jake Lockley x gn!Reader • Rating: PG pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Summary: Jack eavesdrops.

Warnings: Fluff, Jake being emotional, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 482

You stroke behind Salem’s ears, the small kitten’s eyes are closed, his head pressed as close as he can to your hand. 

“You like that, hmm?” You smile, “Who’s my favourite little guy?” 

Salem purrs loudly. 

Jake smiles from his position in the doorway, his hair still damp from the shower. Both Marc and Steven were still asleep, Steven hadn’t come to bed until well into the early morning and now that things in their life were calmer Marc was using the opportunity to catch up on fifteen years of rushed power naps. 

“Who is it, hmm?” You lean down and kiss the top of Salem’s head three times. 

Jake can’t help himself, he slowly takes out his phone from his pocket, not wanting to alert you to his presence. He finds the perfect angle and then starts filming, he’d have to send this to the group chat Steven had created. Affectionately called ‘The Body 💪📖🚗⚾’

“It’s yoooooooou!” You say sing-song to Salem and grin, “Well you’re my favourite little cat guy. I think Steven, Marc, and Jake might complain if they’re not my favourites too. Though I don’t think they’d mind being second best to you.” 

At the sound of Steven, Marc, and Jake’s names Salem perks up his ears and meows softly. 

“Yeah! You love them too, don’t you? They are the best, we love them so much. Because they’re so kind and great. And they give you the best pets, don’t they? Well, second best, I’m best obviously.” 

Jake covers his mouth with his hand, trying not to laugh. He’s smiling so hard it’s hurting his cheeks, his chest so light it’s almost painful. Tears prick at the corner of his eyes, his throat thick. He tries to force the emotion down, but it just builds and builds. 

“I know part of the reason you’re so excited when you hear their names is you think you’re gonna get extra treats, I know they give you more than they should.” You smile. “Can I tell you a secret?” You lean a little closer and Salem looks up at you with large eyes. “I love them so much, literally so much. Every day my heart gets a little bigger with how much I love them. Opposite Grinch situation going on in here.” You tap your chest. 

“Amor,” Jake’s voice makes you jump, and you turn from your position on the floor just in time for him to wrap his arms around you in a bear hug. 

You let out a little oof of air and then giggle, “Were you spying on me?” 

“Yes.” He mutters into your neck, his voice is thick and wavering. 

“Hey, you okay?” You stroke his back and try to move to see his face. But he just snuggles deeper into your chest and squeezes you tighter.

“I’m fine.” 

“You sure?” 

“Just happy, my love. Just happy.” 

Thank you for reading!

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[lucyblue101]

Bad dream

Satoru x reader

The air was thick and cold, the sky above a looming mass of swirling clouds that seemed to drain every ounce of light from the world. You were on a mission with Satoru, somewhere isolated, with buildings crumbling in on themselves, the silence oppressive. Every instinct told you something was wrong, but Satoru had given you that signature smile, that confident, almost cocky grin that always managed to reassure you, even when you knew the danger was real.

But then the silence broke. Shadows burst from the darkness, twisting and merging into curses that hissed and spat as they surrounded you both. You and Satoru fought back to back, every strike and technique blending in perfect harmony, just like always. His presence was steady, unbreakable—a lighthouse guiding you through the storm.

Until you heard him gasp.

You whipped around, just in time to see a blade piercing through his abdomen. Your heart dropped. The blade glistened with cursed energy, pulsating with a darkness that seeped into him like poison. Satoru’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth parting as blood trickled from his lips. He stumbled, a hand moving to grip the wound, but his legs wavered, the strength leaving his body faster than you could comprehend.

"No… no, no, no," you whispered, the world beginning to blur as you stumbled forward, hands reaching out to him. "Satoru!"

But his legs buckled, and he fell to his knees. The Infinity barrier, the one that always protected him, flickered and shattered like glass, leaving him vulnerable, exposed.

“Don’t cry, pretty girl,” he managed, his voice barely a rasp, trying to give you that familiar smile, but it was weak, almost hollow. His usually bright blue eyes were dimming, his gaze struggling to stay focused on you. You dropped to your knees beside him, hands trembling as you pressed them against the wound, desperately trying to stop the blood that was spilling out too fast.

"Satoru, hold on. Please, please hold on," you choked out, fighting to keep your voice steady. But his hands came up, weakly brushing yours away, as if he didn’t want you to worry about the blood soaking your fingers.

“It’s… okay,” he whispered, his voice fading, and his hand found your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin in a trembling, gentle caress. “I… I love you, you know that?”

Tears blurred your vision, hot and thick as they fell down your cheeks. "No, stop—don't say that. You’re going to be fine. We’re going to get you out of here. You’re going to be okay."

But he only shook his head slowly, his breath ragged and shallow, his grip on your cheek growing weaker by the second. “You… you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his gaze softening as he looked at you, as though he wanted this to be the last thing he saw. "I’m so… sorry. For leaving you like this.”

Your chest constricted, every breath turning into a painful, desperate gasp. His skin was growing cold under your touch, the life slowly fading from him with every second that passed. "Satoru, please don’t leave me. I can’t—I can’t do this without you."

“Shh…” His voice was barely there, the faintest whisper. He tried to smile again, his hand sliding from your cheek to fall limply against the ground. "Don’t cry… you look prettier when you’re smiling…"

His eyes fluttered closed, his breathing slowing, his chest barely rising and falling as consciousness slipped away. Panic clawed at you, and you screamed his name, a raw, heart-wrenching sound that tore through the silence. “Satoru!”

But he didn’t answer. His body slumped, lifeless, the last trace of warmth leaving him as you clung to him, sobbing, screaming, begging him to come back.

And then—

You jolted awake, gasping, your body drenched in sweat, your hands still trembling as if you could feel his cold skin beneath them. The room was dark, but familiar, your sheets tangled around you as you struggled to breathe, each gasp sharp and painful in your chest.

“Y/N?” Satoru’s voice was soft, but edged with worry, and you felt his arms wrap around you immediately, pulling you close. His presence, his warmth, was real, solid, grounding you as he held you tight against him. “Hey, hey… it’s okay. I’m here. You’re okay.”

But you couldn’t speak, your breaths coming in shallow, rapid bursts as your mind replayed the dream in vivid, horrifying detail. The way he’d looked at you, the blood, the helplessness—you couldn’t shake it. Your hands clutched at his shirt, fingers twisting in the fabric as if letting go meant losing him all over again.

“Shh… breathe with me, okay?” he murmured, shifting you onto his lap, his hands cradling your back, guiding your head to rest against his chest. His heartbeat was steady, strong, and he took slow, deep breaths, encouraging you to match his rhythm. “In… and out. Nice and slow.”

You tried, focusing on the rise and fall of his chest, the way his hands rubbed slow, comforting circles along your back. His presence, so warm and solid, anchored you, and little by little, the tremors subsided, your breathing evening out as you clung to him, desperate for the reassurance that he was here, alive, safe.

When your breaths finally steadied, you pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze. His blue eyes, so full of worry and love, searched your face, his thumb gently brushing the lingering traces of tears from your cheek.

“Satoru…” you whispered, reaching up to touch his face, fingers tracing the line of his jaw, the curve of his cheekbone, memorizing every feature. You couldn’t shake the fear, the dread that still lingered in the corners of your mind. “I… I thought I lost you.”

His hand came up to cover yours, his fingers warm and reassuring as they intertwined with yours. “I’m right here,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your palm, his eyes never leaving yours. “Nothing’s going to pull me away from you, Y/N.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting his words soothe you, but the memory of the dream still haunted you. He tilted his head, concern creasing his brow as he watched you. “You don’t have to tell me, but… if you woke up like that, I’m worried. What was it about?”

Your throat tightened, a part of you wanting to bury it, to forget, but his steady gaze, his concern, made you feel safe enough to share. “It… it was a dream. About a mission,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I watched you… you were stabbed, and… your Infinity didn’t work. I couldn’t save you. I had to watch you… die.”

He held you closer, his grip tightening, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Oh, Y/N…” He sighed, his face softening, a mix of empathy and heartbreak in his expression. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, even in a dream.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and he brushed it away gently. “I know it was just a dream,” you murmured, voice barely a whisper. “But it felt so real. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t save you.”

He cupped your face, his gaze intense, unwavering. “Listen to me, okay?” His voice was soft, but firm. “There is nothing—nothing—that could ever pull me away from you. Not in this life, or any other. I’ll always come back to you, Y/N.”

His words sank in, soothing the ache in your chest, and he pulled you close, his arms enveloping you in a warmth that chased away the last remnants of the nightmare. He shifted, lying back and pulling you with him, so you were draped over his chest, his heartbeat steady and comforting beneath your ear.

As you lay on his chest, calming breaths finally slowing to match his, you looked up at Satoru’s face, needing to memorize every single detail as if you might forget them. His fingers were still drawing soothing patterns along your spine, but his gaze was entirely focused on you, every inch of his expression etched with a tenderness and concern that made your heart ache.

Your hand drifted up, fingers tracing his cheekbone, feeling the slight roughness of stubble against your fingertips. Every feature was so unmistakably Satoru, so uniquely him. The way his white lashes framed those impossibly blue eyes—so bright, like the clearest summer sky, even in the dim light. Each tiny, soft lash seemed to hold a world of emotion as they blinked down at you, worry lingering in their depths. His brows, usually quirked with that playful arrogance, were softened, knitted together in quiet concern for you.

Your gaze drifted to his mouth, his lips slightly parted, as if he were about to say something but held back, letting you take your time instead. The faintest hint of a smile played there, the kind that he only showed when he thought no one else was watching—gentle, vulnerable. You felt your thumb graze over his lips, tracing the curve and feeling the warmth of his breath under your touch.

"Satoru..." you breathed, almost as if saying his name could chase away the shadows of the nightmare. He caught your hand as it lingered by his lips, pressing his own kiss to your knuckles, and his blue eyes softened further.

“Hey, are you still with me?” he asked gently, voice low, laced with a mixture of his usual charm and something much deeper, a tender worry that you didn’t often see.

You nodded, managing a small smile. "I am now," you murmured, voice shaking just a little, your heart still heavy with the memory of the dream.

He let out a soft sigh, reaching up to brush a few strands of hair away from your face. "You don’t have to ever be afraid of that, you know. Losing me like that.” His thumb brushed over your cheek, and he watched you with an intensity that felt like a promise. "I know what it’s like to lose people, and I’ll never put you through that, not if I can help it. I’ll be right here, every day, every night, as long as I can be."

You swallowed, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes again. "It’s just... it felt so real, Satoru. I felt so helpless. I couldn't do anything."

He pulled you even closer, pressing his forehead gently against yours. “You’re never helpless, Y/N. I know how strong you are. And together... we’re unstoppable, remember?” His lips brushed over your forehead, lingering there, as if to seal the words in a silent vow.

Your hand slid up to his hair, fingers threading through those soft, silvery-white strands. You took a moment just to feel the texture, each strand slipping through your fingers like silk. His hair was longer than it looked, the kind of wild, untamed white that was somehow still so perfect for him, like the light he brought into the world. And even now, a few stray strands fell into his eyes, catching the faint glow from outside, making him look like some kind of dream himself—except he was real. He was here.

"You're really here," you whispered, almost as if needing to remind yourself, and his eyes softened, his hand tightening around yours.

"I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere. I love you so so much y/n," he murmured, the conviction in his voice wrapping around you like a shield, comforting and warm.

Your fingers traced over his face again, mapping every inch. You touched the line of his jaw, feeling its sharpness, so well-defined and yet softened by the gentleness in his expression. You brushed over the bridge of his nose, taking in how it led to his high cheekbones, the pale skin that seemed to glow against the darkness of the room. It was like studying a work of art, one so beautifully crafted and alive, and it filled you with a peace that chased away the last echoes of the nightmare.

“Every detail, every part of you…” you whispered, almost to yourself, your voice breaking with the emotions caught in your throat. “It’s like I could lose myself just looking at you.”

He smirked, but there was no trace of teasing in his eyes, only warmth. “Good,” he whispered, his voice a little hoarse, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Because I’m not done looking at you either.”

He tipped your chin up, just enough to plant a soft kiss against your lips, warm and lingering, his breath mingling with yours. It was as if he wanted to chase away every remaining fragment of fear, each gentle press of his lips a silent promise, wordless yet unmistakable.

When he pulled back, he leaned his forehead against yours, his hand coming to rest over your heart. "Whenever you need this," he murmured, voice soft, "whenever you need to feel me, just remember—I'm right here, okay? Always."

You nodded, feeling a small, grateful smile tugging at your lips. The fear from the nightmare had faded into the background, replaced by the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your hand, his warmth seeping into your skin.

“Thank you, Satoru,” you whispered, pressing your head into his shoulder, letting his scent and his presence envelop you fully.

His arms wrapped around you, holding you close, protective yet tender. “I’ll hold you like this every time you need it,” he murmured. “And even when you don’t.”

The steady rise and fall of his chest, his heartbeat echoing beneath your ear, lulled you into a quiet calm. And as you drifted back into sleep, this time peaceful and dreamless, the last thing you felt was his fingers tracing gentle circles along your back, his presence anchoring you as you held onto him, safe and secure, knowing that, no matter what, he was always right there with you.

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[we-were-beautiful]

Unraveled Ends Chapter 2

Pre chapter Shenanigans 

a/n: Sooooo long time no post but I'm here now and that's what matters. Writers block hit me like a brick wall after my last piece that I did for the riders quadrant fic exchange back in July, that piece was only supposed to be 3k in words but ended up around 7.8k. I had been working on this chapter at the same time and had roughly 2k words but after I got through the edits on the gift fic couldn't seem to string together a coherent sentence much less moving the plot forward. all my photos for the moodboard/aesthetic come from pinterest. Last bit of info is that we did pick up two beta readers for this story( but I am always open for more if people want to hop in). So big Thanks to @loving-and-dreaming and @curse-bearing-hips for reviewing this chapter. That said we are all still human so there is more than likely some mistakes. And a huge thanks to @whisplion for inspiring me to write this fic. Hope y’all enjoy  

Summary: A tailor in the heart of Velaris finds herself mated to the two most powerful fae in Prythian. Unfortunately for her the mating bond only snapped for her, leaving her to question on how to move forward. Should she wait for her mates to feel the bond or should she go ahead and reject it and live with the gaping hole in her heart  

Poly!Feysand x Reader 

Warnings: None but there is angst

WC:3.1k

The next few weeks are nothing short of hell. I didn’t know pretending like nothing is wrong would be as exhausting as it has been. It was a never ending cycle of waking up, getting ready, going to work, and coming home. At work I was dancing a fine line of hiding everything from my seamstresses and sister and failing miserably. The only small mercy that I have had was that I haven’t had to see my mates. Thank the mother for that; I don’t know how I would have reacted to seeing them so soon after the bond had snapped. Not seeing them however did nothing to dampen the feelings that the two of them would throw down the bond unknowingly. Deep down  I know that they didn’t mean to send those memories and feelings to me, but on a good day it makes me sick to my stomach. I don’t know why it has gotten worse. I was fine for a year of burying the feelings that I have for the two down.

They were so happy together, and I don’t have a place in their perfect lifestyle. I thought that I had seen them around town a lot when they were just my customers but now it felt like every time I turned around they were there. It has increased since they came in to get their outfits for Starfall designed. I swear I ran into Rhys yesterday when I went to get lunch for myself. I ran into Feyre the other night while I was getting the groceries for my sisters and me. The two of them had actually approached me a week ago while I was at the park with my baby sister. They had little Nyx with them then and it felt like someone had taken a hold of my heart and started squeezing. The babe was adorable at two years of age. He's starting to reign terror on his parents who had apparently decided he needed to run off his energy at the park. The two of them are far more friendly with people than I would have liked, but mostly that friendliness was targeted towards me. As they joined me on the bench sandwiching me between them. They ended up chatting my ear off for the better part of an hour. There brushes of hands against my body that were too well placed to be incidental. It felt like a vice clamping down around my heart as I left the park with my sister to head home. Feyre had wanted me to stay a bit longer so that she could continue talking to me about my sketches. 

The physical interactions with them weren't the worst thing though. It was the images and emotions that the two had unknowingly sent down the bond. It wasn’t unusual to get a flash of lust from one of them at any given time of the day. It was inconvenient to just get hit with the overwhelming need for someone when I’m with clients. Late at night though I get the images. Of my mates tangled up in pleasure. Sometimes it was flashes of Feyre's face screwed up in pleasure; other of Rhys’s eyes alight with lust and desire. Those nights sleep was hard to come by. A few of those nights I found myself back in the shop working on my clients orders, anything to keep my mind from lingering on the two people that didn’t know I was bound to them.  I was surprised to be receiving so much from them down the bond given that both of them are powerful Demati. I figured that they would be skilled at keeping to themselves. 

Last night was one of those sleepless nights. It was a damn near endless barrage of want and need coming from both of them. If I hadn’t known that their mating bond had been accepted between them I would have assumed that they had accepted it last night. I left a note for my middle sister in the kitchen before heading to the shop in the dead of night. Being the night court, plenty of people were milling about the streets and shops in the palace of thread and jewels. Thankfully it isn’t one of the nights we keep the shop open for those who live under the stars, I could work in peace and not be bothered by anyone. No customers, no seamstresses, no nosy sisters, and most importantly no over friendly mates or their friends. 

It was wonderful to sit in the shop and do what I love with my shadows dancing around me. The shadows had been my friends since I was a very small faeling. They were more shy when I was out in public but when it is just me they come to life and sing. I had only seen two other people like me. One was my maternal grandfather who was from a court that had long since been lost; and the other was Azriel. Grandfather was able to teach me how to control the shadows and use them to my advantage. But he also told me to keep the gift to myself. Shadowsingers had long been coveted by the courts to be used as spies; and he and my parents were worried that the former High Lord would have conscripted me into his spy network if it was ever found out. I had successfully kept it a secret for nearly 400 years. Though times like this, when the shop is closed and I have the room to myself, I let them loose. A soft smile grows on my face as I watch the playful shadows dance about the room. A few of them try to be helpful by handing me tools and instruments that I need as I work on Feyre’s Starfall gown. 

Feyre’s dress had been coming along beautifully. She had come in for a fitting last week where we were checking the fit on the mock up. The High Lady had all but begged to have a similar fabric to my own. We had more of the fabric left; thank gods for that; the last thing I wanted to do was take a trip to the Autumn court to source more. I lose track of time working on the dress; so much so that I didn’t realize the sun had risen until I heard the lock on the door turn. 

“Sis, are you still here?” Genevieve calls out. Of course she came here. “I saw your note on the counter this morning. I dropped Itty bitty off at school and brought breakfast.” 

I sigh and set my things down to make my way out of the work room. Genevieve stands in the room looking so much like our mother; hair tied up in a worn red scarf, a dark red linen shirt and comfortable leather trousers. Ready for a day at the blacksmith. In her hands she balances a bag of what I assume is the breakfast and two cups in the other. 

“Your shadows are so helpful I’m jealous.” She passes me one of the cups and I take a sniff and immediately am greeted by the comforting scent of coffee “ Were you here all night again?” 

It's not hard to hear the concern in her voice as she takes a once over of me. 

“Yes” I responded, taking a sip of the delicious coffee that she had brought. 

“Ok what is going on with you.” She cocks her head to the side “It seems like you have been stressed this past year. Well more so than normal. This is starting to get worrisome. The number of times you have left the house in the middle of the night and worked through to morning is ridiculous.”

“What’s going on? I know it's not money since I help with the books and we have two sources of income coming in.” She takes a breath. “You can talk to me Sis.” 

“Let's go into the office. The ladies should be coming in soon.” I led her into my office not wanting to state what was going on when one of my employees could walk in. Once we are in the office I gesture for her to take a seat in front of my desk. I take a seat and my chair, bones creaking as I sit on the soft leather. She fixes me with a look telling me to start talking. 

“So I met my mates.” I sigh running a hand through my hair 

“You met your mate. That's good news right.” She starts rifling through the bag of food 

“Mates. Two of them.” She stops looking up at me 

“Two. Is that possible?” Her eyebrows nearly disappear into her hairline. 

“It is.” I lean back in my chair. “Incredibly rare but possible.” 

“So let me repeat my earlier question. That’s good news right?” 

“It’s complicated.” I bite my lower lip “The two of them are already mated. Sealed the bond and everything. But the bond only snapped for me.” 

“They don’t know.” Her voice drops in concern 

“No,they don’t.” 

“So what is stressing you out about it? You wouldn’t be leaving the house in the middle of the night over nothing?” 

“They are sending things down the bond. Images, emotions; it’s driving me crazy Gen.” 

“Shit, well can you block them out.” Mom had taught the two of us how to shield from Demati when we were younger. 

“I’ve tried; it only is able to dull it.” I fidget in my seat.  “It also doesn’t help that I keep seeing the two of them every time I go out into the city.” 

“Oh..” She hesitates “Do you mind if I ask who it is.?”  I quickly sent a few shadows out to make sure that the shop was still empty and that there were no busy bodies lurking around the shop. 

“It's the High Lord and Lady.” This was the first time I had ever said those words out loud. I guess I had thought that if I didn’t say it then I could pretend it wasn’t real and that it didn’t bother me. Gen lets out a low whistle.

“That does complicate things. I was going to tell you to grow a pair and tell them but fuck. The High Lord and Lady that… that makes things way more complex.” 

“You see why I am stressed now.” I can feel the ugly emotions filling my chest.

“Yeah, you are in the world's shittiest situation.” She lets out a sigh “It's not like you can go up to them and say hey I am your mate. Fuck I am sorry Sis.” 

I let out a wet laugh, a few tears escaped my eyes and rolled down my cheeks “ There’s nothing for you to apologize for. I just got dealt a shitty hand by the mother.” 

“Are you going to…” She trails off. I know what she was going to say though. It wasn’t something that was talked about often and not in polite company. Rejecting the bond. 

“It’s an option, and I am considering it. I want to ask a few friends of mine in Day about it first though. Since it hasn’t snapped for them they shouldn’t notice but I would like some confirmation first.” It helped that I had friends in other courts that I could gather information from; and there was no better place for information than  the Day Court.

“I will support whatever decision you make. You deserve to be happy Sis, and if your happiness is achieved by breaking the bond then do it.” 

The conversation between us dies after that as she passes me a blueberry muffin from the bag. Seems she stopped by our favorite bakery before heading over here. Time seems to fly too quickly and all too soon Gen has to leave for work leaving me here by myself. Although I’m not on my own for too much longer as my employees start trickling in.

The day seems to stretch on and on as clients make their way into the shop for fittings or to pick up their orders. The dull chatter of my employees and the various customers buzzes in my ears as I methodically pull a small needle through water-like silk. It's hard to make out any distinguishable conversation from behind my office door. Today seems like one of those days when time is just suspended and I can work in peace. There is a quiet content hum from my mates bond; one of the few times that I haven't felt heightened emotions from either of them. 

A soft knock shatters the silence of the office, effectively breaking the spell of tranquility that had fallen over me 

“Come in.” My voice cracks just a bit from not using it. The door squeaks open as a familiar head of midnight hair pokes in. Violet eyes twinkle in amusement as a smile grows across his stupidly handsome face. 

“Sweetheart!” The door swings open the rest of the way as Rhysand swaggers his way into my office like he owns it. I am quick to stand from my desk. 

“High lord.” I give him a polite curtsy, slamming my mental shields up before meeting his gaze

“How many times do I have to tell you it's Rhys?” He laughs before taking a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of my desk. “ So are you ready for my fitting or should I come back later.”  

Shit… Shit shit shit. I had completely forgotten that he was on my books for his second fitting today. It wasn’t like I was completely unprepared. No his suit was ready for the fitting but I was nowhere near mentally prepared for a fitting and not having slept the night before was going to be the actual death of me. 

“No, you are fine.” I move from behind the desk “Let me go grab your suit and we will get you out of here in no time.” 

“No need to rush, I quite enjoy your company.” I cannot afford to focus on my racing heart right now. I need to get him out of this shop as quickly as possible. I move through the back of the shop with practiced ease quickly locating the High Lord’s suit hanging neatly next to the High Lady’s gown. The two pieces were works of art in themselves that compliment each other. The suit as dark as the night sky embossed fabric giving the illusion of swirling depths. The dress flowed off the hanger like liquid moonlight, the delicate silk the identical twin to my own gown. Small gems sewn into the bodice catch and reflect the light like the stars that will make their journey across the sky on Starfall. For as much as I don’t want to care about the two, these pieces tell a different story. If I wasn’t just a little bit attached to the two of them I would have passed the designs along to another dressmaker and been done with it; but now I painstakingly designed and sewn these garments for my mates. I let out a small sigh before reaching up to grab the suite. Once I get back to my office I am quick to pass the suit off to Rhys directing him to the small changing area at the back of the office. I quickly begin to route around my desk for my supplies.  

An hour, all I have to do is make it an hour and then I will be free of Rhysand for the time being. It feels like forever before he walks out from behind the curtain. It is only years of working with Rhysand that keeps me from gasping out. If the suit was beautiful on the hanger and dress form it is absolutely stunning on the male it was made for. Rhys makes his way over to the platform and mirror in the office stepping up before moving to fuss with the cuffs. 

“This is a beautiful suit Sweetheart.” He moves to pick off the smallest piece of lint on the  collar. I move to stand behind him to begin the process of adjusting the way the suit sits on Rhysand.

We continued the song and dance that we had done for many years to get the suit to fit him perfectly. I can't help the small ache in my chest as I circle around him placing pins and chalk lines where minute alterations need to be made. Rhys is beaming the whole time chatting away like we hadn’t seen each other just the other day. I can feel the long day in my bones, my hands ache from the countless hours of work. My fingertips are raw from the amount of times I have jammed pins and needles into them. While I try to appropriately match Rhys energy, it's easy to tell that he isn’t buying the act. 

“You seem tired.” He arches a brow at me as I move to pin the hem of his pants. 

“My mates kept me up last night.” A mischievous glint grows in his violet eyes.

“Oh. They kept you up .” He teased but hidden in the back of his teasing tone seemed to be a bit of jealousy… possessiveness. 

“Yeah the two of them kept sending all of their emotions down the bond last night.” I sigh looking up at him from my spot on the floor 

“Two mates…” He stumbles with his words. He hasn’t done that since he was a teen and I was helping my father with his fitting “The mother has blessed you.” 

“Blessed or cursed.” I put the pins down. 

“Cursed.” He questions

“The bond only snapped for me.” A small sad smile grows on my face.  My mental shields are intact and stronger than ever and it's not like I can tell Rhys that he and Feyre are my mates. 

“Have you told them?” He questions, holding a hand out to help me from the floor 

“No. The two of them have already sealed the bond and have started their own perfect little family.” It feels like an Illyrian has punched me in the gut as I make this confession to him “I don’t want to ruin that for them.” 

“So what are you planning to do?” He tilts his head looking at me in sympathy “ Because you seem to have wilted these past few months. 

“I have a few things I am thinking about doing. I want to seek out a few friends in Day first before committing to it.”

“Committing to what Sweetheart?” he gazes at me with concern 

“Breaking the bond.” And as those words leave my lips you can see the color drain from his face.

Tag list: @rachelnicolee @goldenmagnolias @jesssicapanigua @sweetorangeblossom @cat-or-kitten @alowint @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @coldpeachkitten @esposadomd @araneea92 @saltedcoffeescotch @persephonesalvatore

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

You're Still Here

Jason Todd x reader

Fluff

Warnings: none

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

The night was quiet in Jason's apartment, the usual hum of the bustling city just outside these four walls replaced by the soft sound of a movie starting up. Jason was sat on the couch, looking as brooding as ever. But there was something different tonight. Instead of his usual solitary routine or rough training, he’d agreed to something... well, normal. A movie night. With you.

It had taken some convincing, of course. Jason was never one for downtime, especially not with the weight of his past bearing down on him. But tonight, he’d finally relented, mostly because you’d promised a movie marathon of his favorite action flicks—no Batman, no vigilante-related anything, just pure explosions and one-liners.

“Alright, what are we watching first?” you asked, settling beside him on the couch. You’d picked up some snacks on your way to his place—popcorn, candy, and soda—all the essentials for a perfect movie night.

Jason grunted in response, more focused on the TV screen than you, but you could tell he was at least trying. His eyes flickered in your direction briefly, as if testing the waters, but he said nothing. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy spending time with you, but... well, Jason wasn’t used to this kind of thing. Casual, relaxing fun. He was far more familiar with the dark corners of Gotham and the cold silence of a lonely night patrol.

You selected the first movie—a mindless action film, the kind with ridiculous stunts and no real plot, just chaos. It was perfect for a night like this.

Jason shifted slightly, his usual posture of stiff tension not quite as rigid tonight. Still, his body language told you there was something on his mind. You’d seen it before—the way he avoided certain touches, how he flinched at unexpected moments. It wasn’t hard to guess what was bothering him, though.

The autopsy scar. That damn scar.

You knew it wasn't just a mark on his body; it was a constant reminder of the worst night of his life. A scar that came with memories of betrayal, death, and resurrection. No matter how much Jason tried to cover it up, you could see the way he shifted uneasily whenever his sleeve was pushed up or when his shirt clung too tightly to his skin. It wasn’t the scar that bothered him so much as what it represented—the brutality of his death, the pain of being discarded and forgotten.

You nudged him gently with your elbow. “Hey, want some popcorn?” you asked, your voice casual, as if the two of you had done this a hundred times before. Jason didn’t answer right away, but you could feel the slight movement of his shoulder as he leaned just a little bit closer. His hand hovered over the bowl of popcorn for a second, fingers brushing against yours before he pulled away.

The touch was so brief, so subtle, but you caught it. It was enough to remind you of just how fragile Jason’s comfort zone really was. He wasn’t the type to openly talk about his insecurities, let alone face them head-on. But tonight... Tonight you had to hope that maybe, just maybe, he could be open with you. At least for a little while.

“Jason,” you said softly, “you know you don’t have to hide anything, right? You’re not... you’re not broken.”

He stiffened, just a little. You saw the way his jaw tightened, the usual tough guy mask slipping into place. But you pushed on, not letting him retreat.

“It’s just us here,” you continued, “and I’m not going anywhere. If you want to talk about it—or not talk about it—that’s fine. But you don’t have to pretend everything’s okay when it’s not.”

Jason’s gaze flickered toward you, his eyes dark and unreadable. His lips pressed into a thin line as he fought with whatever emotions were swirling inside him. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, with a deep, frustrated exhale, he spoke.

“It's just… it’s hard, alright?” His voice was raw, quiet. “Every time I look in the mirror, all I see is that damn scar. It’s like a mark, like... I’m still dead somehow.”

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you reached out and took his hand in yours. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but the softness of your touch spoke louder than words could. You didn’t need to say that you understood; you didn’t need to tell him that you’d never see him as broken. You just let your presence be enough.

Jason looked down at your hand, a scar on his arm exposed for just a second before he quickly pulled his sleeve down to hide it. The quick motion was subtle but telling. He was trying to hide from you... and maybe from himself.

But you didn’t pull away. You stayed close, letting the silence stretch between you for a few beats. Then you smiled, your voice gentle but firm.

“You’re still here, Jason,” you said softly. “You’re still alive. And you’re... you’re still you. And that scar? It’s a part of who you are, but it doesn’t define you.”

His eyes flickered toward you again, unsure, as if testing the sincerity in your words. For a second, you weren’t sure if he would pull back again, if the walls he’d built around himself would rise back up.

But instead, Jason exhaled slowly, letting the tension in his shoulders dissipate just a little. The tightness around his jaw softened, and though he didn’t speak, his gaze lingered on you—just a little longer than before.

The movie played on, and for once, neither of you were entirely lost in the screen. There was a quiet understanding between you now. You hadn’t cured all of Jason’s demons, but you’d given him something he didn’t know he needed. A safe space. A place where, for tonight, the scar didn’t matter.

And that, you hoped, was a start.

[kimmie2me]

A Taste of Care

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Pro Hero!Bakugou x AFAB!Pro Hero!fem reader

.....

The invitation to the annual Pro Hero Gala lands with a quiet thud on your desk, and you nearly ignore it, honestly – it’s one of those events everyone expects top heroes to attend, but no one actually enjoys. You wonder how the organizers can still think it’s a good idea. You glance over at Bakugou, who rolls his eyes the second he catches you even looking at it. “Not a chance,” he grumbles, turning back to whatever report he’s pretending to focus on. “Hell’ll freeze over before I show up there.”

“Yeah, but…they invited us both.” You can’t help it—the thought of skipping nags at you, guilt bubbling up. You turn the envelope in your hands, debating. “I mean, if we don’t go, they’ll probably think we don’t care or something…”

“Good,” he mutters, "Because I do not care."

You make the decision then, mostly because you can’t imagine telling someone who went through the trouble of inviting you that you just… didn’t feel like going. “Fine,” you say, sighing. “I’ll go, then. You don’t have to worry about it.”

A heavy pause lingers, and then Bakugou’s gaze snaps up. “You what?”

“I’ll go. On your behalf. It’s fine,” you insist, smiling a little to soften it. But there’s something in his eyes, and you think he feels that tug of guilt too, though he’d never say it. Finally, he just sighs and mutters, “Fine, fine. I’m going. Don’t start whining about this later.”

And that’s how you end up at the Gala, arm in arm with one very reluctant Bakugou.

.....

You’ve barely been here for an hour, and though Bakugou’s already made three attempts to pull you towards the exit, you’re still here, being polite and nodding along as people pass by, each one taking a little energy from you with their relentless questions.

At some point, a waiter passes by with a tray of drinks, and you reach out, half-relieved for a distraction. The waiter places a delicate, glass thimble of juice in your hand, barely bigger than your thumb. You eye it, perplexed.

“One sip,” you murmur, taking a cautious taste. It’s sweet and refreshing—too good, actually, like someone figured out the perfect formula for juice. The flavor surprises you, so you hold it in your hands like you’re savoring a precious heirloom, taking tiny sips to make it last.

“Hey,” Bakugou says, turning back from where he’s been roped into some pointless conversation with another hero. His eyes narrow when he sees the minuscule cup in your hands. “You tryna torture yourself or somethin’? Why’re you drinkin’ it if you don’t even like it?”

You blink, mildly surprised by his assumption. “No, I do like it! It’s just... y’know... small. And I didn’t want to—um, ask for more.” You hesitate, aware of the ridiculousness of it all. “They might think I’m being greedy, you know?”

Bakugou makes a face, folding his arms across his chest. “You’re kiddin’ me.” He sounds genuinely irritated now, and it’s impossible not to feel embarrassed, though you give a nervous smile.

“No, no! It’s fine, 'Suki, really.” You tug at his sleeve to keep him from storming over to whoever poured this pathetic excuse for a drink, though he stares at you, unamused, for a moment.

“Fine,” he relents, still looking unconvinced. But when you try to wave him off a second time, and a third, his patience visibly thins. “Alright, that’s it.” He grabs your now empty cup with a sense of purpose, muttering under his breath as he maneuvers through the crowd. You reach out, embarrassed to death that he’d take the trouble to do this.

“Katsuki, you don’t have to—please, it’s okay! Really, it’s fine!”

He gives you a brief, sideways glance, his expression somewhere between exasperation and begrudging affection. “For god’s sake, Cupcake, I’m doin’ it ‘cause I want to.”

The bartender hardly has time to react before Bakugou is right in front of him, holding up the empty cup like it’s some sort of evidence. “Listen up. This microscopic cup you handed out, where the hell d’ya even find one that small?” he demands, raising an eyebrow at the bartender, who looks both puzzled and terrified by Bakugou’s intensity.

The bartender stammers something about portion sizes, but Bakugou cuts him off, pointing to the counter like he’s about to place an order in a war zone. “Whatever you put in here, put it in a real glass this time, yeah? And don’t skimp. What is it, anyway?”

“Uh—it’s, um, a mix of, uh, passion fruit, lemon, and a hint of, uh… elderflower…”

“Good. That’s exactly what I wanted to know.” He watches as they pour the drink, nodding in satisfaction once they fill a glass you can actually hold with more than two fingers. When he finally returns, he looks triumphant, almost like he just completed some crucial, life-or-death mission.

“Here,” he says, handing you the glass with that rare softness in his eyes that he only gets around you.

And as you take the first sip, savoring the full taste this time, you glance up at him, fighting a smile.

“Y’know,” he mutters, clearly aware of his over-the-top reaction, “I ain’t lettin’ you get ripped off on my watch. ‘Specially if it’s somethin’ you like.”

You savor every last drop of the drink, finally taking fuller sips now that it’s in an actual glass. The elderflower and passion fruit mix is refreshing, and it brings a soft smile to your lips every time you taste it. And when you finish the last drop, you look up at Bakugou, feeling a bit embarrassed but grateful.

He’s watching you intently, arms crossed with a proud little smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “All done?” he asks, clearly pleased with himself.

You nod, setting the glass down. “Yeah. Thanks, 'Suki,” you murmur, hoping the slight blush on your cheeks isn’t too obvious. “We can go now.”

Bakugou’s face lights up in an almost imperceptible way. He clears his throat, looking around as if anyone might overhear, but the relief is clear in his expression. “’Bout damn time.”

A couple of weeks pass, and life returns to the usual pro hero routine—patrols, training, the occasional event, and repeat. After a long, grueling day of patrol, you return home exhausted and immediately head to the shower, letting the hot water wash away the day’s aches and strains. The warmth is a balm for your sore muscles, and by the time you get out, you feel somewhat revived, if not a little sleepy.

You toss on a cozy set of clothes, ready to finally relax and start prepping dinner. You make your way to the kitchen, but as you open the fridge, you notice something unusual: a piece of paper stuck to one of the shelves. Curious, you pull it out and immediately recognize Bakugou’s handwriting, all sharp lines and bold strokes.

In the middle of the note is a hastily-drawn little doodle of himself, smirking with a thumbs-up, along with the words: “Surprise. You better not ration this either.”

You stare at the note, momentarily confused. What’s he talking about?

Then you glance down, and your eyes widen.

Sitting on the shelf, right next to the vegetables and leftovers, is a large glass pitcher filled to the brim with the juice from the gala—your favorite mix of passion fruit, lemon, and elderflower.

A laugh bubbles up from your throat, and you can’t help but shake your head in wonder. Of course he’d go through the trouble of making an entire pitcher for you. And not only that, but he left a note, reminding you not to hold back or ration it like some precious artifact.

You pour yourself a full glass, taking a long sip, and the familiar taste brings a warm, giddy feeling to your chest. For a moment, you just stand there in your quiet kitchen, holding your glass and staring at Bakugou’s note with a grin that won’t leave your face.

It’s just so… him. Thoughtful in the most roundabout way possible.

You take another sip, glancing at the time. He’ll still be on patrol for a bit, but you already can’t wait to tell him just how much his little surprise means to you.

[elderwisp]

◁ || ▷

Theo: What if they hate me?

Gabriel: Then I guess we’ll die-

Theo: Now why would you say that?

Gabriel: I’m joking. You’ll be okay! Swear, they’re like the most unserious people ever. 

Theo: Are you joking? They look pretty serious. I’m freaking intimidated!

Gabriel: What can I say? My friends are pretty cool. Ares is a cutie. Gum is well, Gum. 

Gum: What am I?

Gabriel: NOTHIN! 

Gum: Hmm… I’m watching you. Hi, you must be Theo!

Theo: Nice to meet you guys. 

Ares: Dude, I feel like you picked the wrong place to get to know your friend. 

Gabriel: It’s perfect! 

Ares: It’s loud. I mean, can you hear us alright?

Theo: Honestly, not really but it’s FINE! I’ve never been to a bar like this. 

Gum: Cherry’s great. Lots of great memories. Ah. 

Gabriel: By memories, she means all the girls she kissed.

Gum: Seriously?

Gabriel: [ chuckles ] What?

Gum: You’re buying the first round of drinks for that. 

Gabriel: Fine! 

Ares: [ signs ] You alright?

Theo: [ mouths ] You know how to sign?

Ares: [ outloud ] My parents had me learn a language in school. God, I still can’t believe him-

Theo: It’s alright! I’m allowed to enjoy this!

Ares: Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-

Theo: [ laughs ] I know what you meant. Love this song by the way! 

Gum: Me too! Come on, let’s all go dance!

-

Carlos: Gabriel! How’ve you been, man?

Gabriel: Doin’ good, you?

Carlos: Awesome! Garret and I are buying a home.

Gabriel: Holy shit man, congrats! You still gonna be around?

Carlos: Yep! So what can I get you?

Gabriel: Hmm. Four shots of Patron, please?

Carlos: I gotchu.

Gabriel: At a bar with no drink?

?: Oh! Yeah, uh, that’s a bit weird, isn’t it? 

Carlos: Be nice, she’s one of my regulars.

Gabriel: I will! Just curious. Are you here alone? 

?: [ abruptly ] Yes. Why?

Gabriel: Seems lonesome. No offense to Carlos keepin’ ya company here.

Carlos: Dude!

Gabriel: I’ve never seen you around. 

?: I usually stay hidden. 

Gabriel: Ah, so you like to observe. Being a wallflower’s cool and all but you could always experience something new.

?: What do you have in mind?

Gabriel: A few ideas of the fun sort. Interested?

?: Kali. My name is Kali. 

-

Gum: Y-you didn’t!

Gabriel: I did!

Gum: Oh my god, I can’t with you.

Gabriel: [ giggles ] Well I had a great time.

Theo: Wow. They’re pretty wasted. 

Ares: Oh, this is nothing, you should have seen them on this guy’s twenty-first birthday.

Theo: I can imagine.

Ares: Gabriel tells me you’re new to San My, have you always been a fan of the city?

Theo: I’ve always been curious. I love getting to know people but the people back home, well, you can only get to know so much when your town is pretty small.

Ares: That’s so fascinating though, I feel like my life has been surrounded by plenty of people.

Theo: Is that so?

Ares: Mhm, my family is really big into the music industry so we’ve gotten to know a lot of artists.

Theo: That’s so cool!

Ares: Yeah. What do you do Theo?

Theo: I am a dancer. Nothing wild. I’m just an extra in Cirque Felicity at the casino. I teach classes part time at this studio. 

Ares: Holy shit. Anything specific you specialize in?

Theo: Ballet. I’d love to do a serious show but I highly doubt I’d be casted in anything.

Ares: Why not?

Theo: There’s… Just a particular build people have in mind when it comes to who plays what. 

Ares: Hmm, well the city’s great for advocating change. My bet is you could choreograph your own show.

Theo: That’s not a bad idea. 

-

Theo: It was nice talking to you Ares.

Ares: Likewise, Theo. Night.

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

can you compete? | pedri gonzalez

🎾 synopsis: You’re a young, rising Spanish tennis player focused on success. But focus is harder to keep when your condo neighbor happens to be Pedri González. He thinks you’d make a perfect team; you’re convinced he’s nothing but a distraction. warnings: light enemy-to-lovers vibes, fluff and mentions of alcohol consumption. (around 3.2k words)

part 1

It’s early morning in Barcelona, and you’re grateful for the quietness. These moments, the rare times you’re actually home, are precious to you. It’s just you, your racket, and the comforting rhythm of a tennis ball echoing off your condo’s shared court.

You’re midway through a rally with yourself when you sense him leaning against the gate. He’s watching – no, studying you. And he doesn’t bother hiding it.

It’s almost embarrassing how often you’ve been catching sight of him lately – like the universe is playing a joke on you. Every time you glance up from the courts or the gym, he’s there, flashing an annoyingly perfect grin at anyone who looks his way.

And everyone’s always looking.

You’ve heard all the stories, of course. That he’s a playboy, a heartthrob, the kind of guy who seems to walk into every room with his own spotlight. His type is trouble for someone like you, focused, aiming high. You don’t need a distraction that comes with a fan club.

But then, here he is, leaning casually on the chain-link fence at the edge of the court, watching you with a crooked smile that makes your pulse kick up. He’s not even pretending to play it cool, and that makes you want to hit your next serve a little harder.

“Trying to impress me?” His voice carries across the empty court, the hint of a challenge lighting up his eyes.

You roll your eyes, hoping he doesn’t see the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Not everything’s about you, you know.”

He laughs, pushing off the fence and jogging over to where you stand. 

“Alright, fair, maybe I’m the one trying to impress you.”

“Don’t you have a game to train for?” you say, catching the ball mid-bounce, one eyebrow raised. 

“I’d rather watch you,” he replies, completely unbothered. It’s easy to see why he’s got a reputation: handsome, self-assured, carrying a charm that, by now, must be fine-tuned.

You roll your eyes, turning back to your practice, but you can feel his eyes on you. It’s hard to ignore the magnetic pull, the way he just… assumes. Like there’s no reason you wouldn’t feel the same spark he claims to see.

For him, it probably makes perfect sense – two rising stars, two athletes pushing the boundaries, both of you Spanish, both young, single and pretty. He probably thinks you’d make some kind of dream team.

But for you? You’re not sure you want the spotlight blending with your private life. Yet here he is, waiting, watching.

You toss the ball up for another serve, ignoring the way his presence makes the air feel charged. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter that he’s watching, that your focus is on the court. But when you glance over and he’s still there, a spark of determination flickers through you.

You could show him, really show him, what focus looks like.

“Want to join?” you call over, keeping your tone nonchalant.

His eyes widen a fraction, surprised at your invitation, but then he grins, crossing the court toward you. “Think you can handle it?”

You don’t bother replying; you just toss him a spare racket and settle into position. His confidence doesn’t faze you. You know your game, and as he takes his stance, you can see he’s trying to match the intensity in your eyes.

The rally begins, and it doesn’t take long to feel the rhythm of the game settle into place. He’s athletic, fast, clearly used to dominating on a field, but it’s different here. On the court, you know how to control each swing, each movement, the pace building until he’s panting, chasing after shots that hit just out of reach.

He misses a return, and you catch a quick, surprised look flashing across his face. It’s almost funny. 

“You’re really good,” he says, breathless, as he jogs back to his position.

You shrug, adjusting your grip on the racket. “Didn’t think I’d have to go easy on you.”

His laugh is loud, echoing around the empty court. “Alright, I get it. No mercy, then.” He wipes his brow with the back of his hand, and when you serve again, he’s throwing himself into every swing with even more energy, trying to keep up.

You keep pushing, refusing to let him break your concentration, but there’s something amusing about watching him struggle to meet your pace. The confidence he wore so easily when he first arrived is slowly giving way to real effort. A few more rounds, and you can tell he’s getting frustrated – and determined, his movements sharper, his brow furrowing as he chases down each shot.

But then, he misses again, his racket slicing through air, and he doubles over, panting. 

“Okay, I admit it,” he says between breaths, grinning up at you. “You’re better than I thought.”

“Thanks,” you say, barely out of breath, relishing the look on his face. You’re both laughing, the tension between you feeling easier now, almost natural.

And then he pulls his shirt over his head, wiping his face as he does, revealing a torso that’s as infuriatingly perfect as his smile. He catches you glancing, and his smile widens, clearly pleased with himself.

“Trying to distract me?” you question, raising an eyebrow.

“Is it working?” he shoots back, his voice full of playful arrogance as he drapes the shirt over his shoulder.

You shake your head, scoffing, but can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. You’re still not interested in the distraction, but you can’t deny he’s entertaining to have around.

“I’m Pedri, by the way.” He finally introduces himself, sticking out a hand.

“Yes, I know,” you reply, just barely resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “And you know who I am too, don’t you?”

He nods like he’s pleased you called him out. "Of course I do. Hard not to know."

It’s strange, though – after all the crossed paths and stolen glances, this is the first time you’ve actually exchanged names. His hand is warm when you shake it, and there’s an easy confidence in his grip.

“It's funny, right? Somehow, we never got around to introductions,” Pedri says.

You shrug, pulling your hand back. “Guess it didn’t seem necessary.”

“Or maybe you were avoiding it,” he teases, letting his eyes linger just a bit longer than usual. “Hard to get close to you, isn’t it?”

“I’m just here to train.”

His laughter fills the empty court. “Yeah, I noticed that,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “And I thought I worked hard.”

“Some of us don’t rely on charm alone,” you counter, tossing the ball up for another serve.

He watches, and though his expression is playful, there’s something else in his eyes – an understanding, maybe, or a spark of recognition. You might both play different sports, but in some way, he seems to get it: the drive, the endless hours, the need to push yourself to the edge.

For a second, he’s just another athlete, a competitor with the same fire you have.

Then he breaks the silence. “Maybe I’ll have to start coming to the court more often. Could use a rival like you.”

“Or someone to keep you humble,” you add.

part 2

You didn’t expect to see him here, not like this, face flushed and bright from a few too many drinks, eyes lighting up the moment you step into the room. You’re barely through the door when Pedri spots you; he makes his way over, steady but just a little wobbly, and you brace yourself for whatever antics he might have up his sleeve tonight.

“Hey, superstar,” he greets you with a dramatic flair, slinging an arm over your shoulder like he’s known you forever. “You’re late.” He says it as though he’s been waiting all night just to see you, like maybe his whole night’s been on pause until now.

Your friends exchange looks, hiding laughs, but Pedri doesn’t notice. He’s too busy guiding you toward the kitchen, asking if you’ve eaten yet, if you need a drink, if you’re “sure those heels are comfortable” because they look way too high. He’s eyeing them like they’re an injury waiting to happen.

“Careful,” he says, putting a hand on your elbow as you step over a stack of cups. “Don’t need you twisting your ankle, okay? They’re valuable assets to Spain.”

Turns out your friend who’s turning 21 today is actually a mutual friend, and Pedri makes sure to explain that detail to you, like he’d hoped it would be his ticket to seeing you here tonight.

You’re not usually one to drink, but come on, tonight is your close friend’s birthday party, it feels impossible to say no. And a couple of drinks? What’s the worst that could happen? It’s almost the end of the year, and the seasons have been bleeding together – match after match, the endless bounce of the ball inside those white lines. You’re not quite at burnout, but you’re close enough to feel it hovering around the edges. So you let yourself have a little fun.

After a couple of drinks, you’re as drunk as everyone else in the room, feeling light and fuzzy. And suddenly, Pedri makes all the sense in the world. You’re both nestled together on the couch, close enough to feel the warmth of his arm draped around you, the noise of the party fading in the background as you both look at each other like the world just zoomed in on you two. For anyone outside, it’s a ridiculous sight.

Pedri leans close, his mouth just by your ear. “Do you need water? I’ll get you some water.” His voice is earnest, like he’s on a mission, and before you can respond, he’s up, making his way across the room in a slightly unsteady line.

The moment he’s gone, your friends are on you, smirking and whispering. “Oh, he’s definitely into you,” one of them laughs.

You roll your eyes, trying to downplay the warmth creeping up your cheeks. “He’s like that with everybody,” you murmur, brushing it off just as he returns.

“Not everyone, no,” he meets your eyes with a seriousness that catches you off guard. “Just you.” he says, his words drenched in sincerity. And it might have been more meaningful if he didn’t almost drop the glass of water as he tried to hand it over.

You laugh, steadying the glass in his hands. “Maybe you need this more than I do,” you tease, guiding the water to his lips and watching as he drinks.

“Let’s get you some fresh air,” you say, placing a steady hand on his back as you guide him outside the party.

Outside, the night air is cool, and you’re both silent for a moment, just letting it clear your heads. Then, Pedri leans against the wall, hands in his pockets.

"I haven’t been to one of these in a while," he admits, glancing around.

"You mean a party?” you laugh, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’m serious,” he says, his tone soft but serious. “I’ve been working hard, trying to stay in good shape. And when I found out about tonight, I just thought... well, I’d probably get a chance to see you here. I figured it was worth coming. Then you didn’t show up for a while, and I thought, okay, maybe I’ll have a few drinks and head home. And now… now I’m half-drunk and probably made a complete fool of myself in front of you.”

You feel the warmth creeping up your cheeks, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. His confession hangs between you, and for a second, it’s almost too much. You’re not ready for this – at least, not tonight.

“I know what it’s like, not having time for parties or friends,” you say, looking anywhere but at him. “I’m just… I’m just glad we’re getting to have fun tonight.”

He’s quiet for a beat, and when you finally look back at him, there’s something unreadable in his gaze – a hint of disappointment, maybe.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding slowly, his smile dimming a little. “Me too. I’m glad we’re both here.” He straightens up, brushing the moment aside. “Do you want to go back inside? I think I’m feeling better now.”

Inside, Pedri keeps his distance, giving you space to be with your friends. There’s a subtle shift in him, like he’s taken a small step back, maybe a little hurt by how you brushed off his words earlier. But even with the room he’s given you, your eyes keep finding him across the crowd, drawn back to him.

As the party winds down, your sober friend offers to drive you both home. You and Pedri are tipsy, giggly, and hushed into the back seat, his shoulder pressing against yours. Every little bump on the road sets you both off into laughter over nothing in particular, the comfortable kind of closeness you wouldn’t have allowed at the start of the night.

When the car pulls up in front of your place, you both stumble out, waving goodbye to your friend as they drive off. Pedri follows you to your door, hands in his pockets. There’s a quiet pause between you, and for a moment, everything feels lighter, warmer.

Without much thought, you lean in, ready to end the night with a kiss. But he puts a hand up, stopping you gently.

“No, wait,” he says. He scratches the back of his neck, glancing down before meeting your eyes again. “I want to do this right, you know? Take you on a real date.”

You blink, surprised, his words taking a second to sink in. He stands there looking different somehow – uncertain in a way that’s almost too sincere.

“Why?” you ask, brushing off your own awkwardness with a smile. “What if I don’t feel the same way tomorrow?”

He laughs, but there’s determination in his words. “Then I’ll ask you tomorrow. And we’ll see.”

It’s hard to tell if he’s playing some long game or if he actually means it. But tonight, you decide not to question it. You nod, turning your key in the door, and before stepping inside, you shoot him a small smile.

“Goodnight, Pedri,” you say, not entirely sure about what comes next.

part 4

The court feels different this morning. Usually, it’s your escape – a place where everything falls into rhythm. But today, every bounce of the ball feels heavier, slower. You keep glancing toward the gate, distracted, wondering if he’ll actually show up. The fact that you’re even hoping he will surprises you.

Finally, after what feels like forever, you catch sight of him. He’s lingering at the fence, scanning the court with a nervous edge before his eyes settle on you. There’s a hesitation in his expression you haven’t seen before. It’s a strange look for him.

You’re sweating from practice, and as soon as you realize how out of breath and flushed you must look, a wave of self-consciousness hits. You’re suddenly aware of every strand of hair stuck to your forehead and every patch of dampness on your shirt. Not exactly how you pictured this moment, but there’s no backing out now.

“Hey,” he says, stepping onto the court with a tentative smile.

“Hey,” you reply, doing your best to keep it casual as you wipe your forehead with the back of your hand. “You’re here.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, scratching the back of his neck as he glances around like he’s never been on a court before. “I told you I’d show up.”

You both fall silent for a second, and it’s almost...awkward. He’s usually so confident, but today there’s something different – a softness, maybe even a hint of uncertainty. Like he’s trying to gauge if you’re still open to this, whatever this is.

You hand him the spare racket, and he takes it with a sheepish grin. “Promise you won’t be too hard on me?”

“No promises,” you tease, falling into an easy rally.

As you both start hitting back and forth, the tension loosens, replaced by a comfortable rhythm. He’s not half bad, but you’re still making him chase the ball from one end of the court to the other. It’s fun watching him struggle, laughing every time he stumbles but refusing to give up.

“Wow,” he says, catching his breath, “This is... intense.”

You shrug, laughing. “Or maybe you’re just out of shape.”

He shakes his head, laughing along. But then he stops, staring at you for just a second too long.

“You should go on a date with me.” His voice is soft, almost vulnerable.

You blink, momentarily caught off guard. “A date?” You toss the ball lightly in your hand, trying to keep your composure.

“Yeah.” He nods, his eyes not leaving yours, searching for your reaction. “I know I’m probably out of my league here, but I thought it was worth a shot. Just one date.”

There’s something disarming about his honesty. You hadn’t expected this level of sincerity from him, especially not after the way he usually carries himself. You bounce the ball again, the motion a nervous habit. “What makes you think you can keep up with me?” you ask, attempting to sound playful.

He laughs, reaching up to catch the ball mid-bounce. “I’m tougher than I look,” he says, holding the ball out to you, but when you reach for it, he keeps it just out of your reach, a playful challenge.

“Oh, I see,” you say, trying to swipe it from him, but he pulls back, chuckling.

In the end, you stop reaching. You pause, crossing your arms, your heart racing. “Okay,” you say finally, surprising yourself with your willingness. “One date.”

His eyes light up with delight, and the earlier hesitation fades. “So, are you going to let me kiss you after the date?” you ask, half-joking, remembering how he held back after the party.

He gets serious for a second, then breaks into a big smile. “You can kiss me right now if you want!”

You laugh nervously, hyper-aware of the sweat on your skin. “I don’t know… I feel kind of gross right now.”

He shrugs, totally unfazed. “I really don’t mind at all.”

The sincerity in his voice cuts through your self-consciousness, and before you can second-guess yourself, you step forward and press your lips to his. 

The kiss is sweet and a little messy, but honestly? It’s everything you didn’t even know you needed. It’s like a light switch flipped on, sparking something deep inside you. For that moment, the whole world outside the court just fades away. His lips are soft, and there’s this warmth spreading through you, making you forget all about the awkwardness from just a second ago.

When you pull back, you’re both breathless, caught in the moment, and the connection is still buzzing between you. His eyes are wide, like he can’t believe what just happened, and it’s kind of adorable watching him process it all. You can’t help but smile back at him. Seeing him distracted, you reach for the tennis ball in his hand. “See you on our one date, then.”

He just stares as you walk away, surprise and delight flickering across his face. “Hey, you can’t just run off with that!”

You laugh and give him a cheeky wave over your shoulder as you head off.

[winchesterwild78]

An Unexpected Friendship

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, Jensen’s children

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Domestic Violence, Language, mention of death

A/N: This is a short story written in collaboration with @cheekygirl2309. In this story the reader is a widow who has a 4 year old daughter. She’s dating a very abusive man, so she enrolls her daughter in preschool to keep her as shielded as possible. At the preschool we find her daughter has made friends with a set of twins. At pick up one day the reader realizes the parent of her daughter’s best friend is none other than Jensen Ackles. A friendship forms, and decisions are made after a particularly nasty fight with her boyfriend. 

No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life.

*This chapter sets up the story-it’s a bit long due to this.*

Minors DNI 18+

You sat on the side of your bed rubbing your arm, trying to get the sting of the pain to go away. Another night, another argument with Robert, your boyfriend. You’d only been dating about 9 months, and at first everything seemed perfect. You felt the sting of the tears fill your eyes 

Knowing how much he hated when you cried, you fought to keep them at bay. Crying after he hit you only made things worse. You were thankful, however, your four year old daughter, Jazmyne was already in bed. 

You did your best to keep her shielded from the violence that plagued your life now. Your late husband, Josh, was a kind, gentle man. He wouldn’t lift a hand to you and was an amazing father to Jazmyne. Josh was so gentle that if a spider got into the house he’d scoop it up and carry it outside. He died unexpectedly after a workplace accident. Your heart was irrevocably broken when the two of you lost him. 

Now Robert was in your lives. You met him at a house party and he swept you off your feet. The first time he hit you, the two of you were arguing and things got heated quickly. Then he slapped you across your face, drawing blood from your mouth. You made him leave and told him it was over. 

For almost a month you kept him at bay. Then loneliness, apologies and manipulation took over. You took him back. Things were fine, and then a switch flipped again. 

The latest fight was over dinner. You’d come home late from work and he was mad because dinner was late. After picking Jazmyne up at your friend’s house you decided to stop and grab a pizza. When you got home, he was there and became angry when he saw the pizza box.

“What the fuck is that?” He growled as he motioned to the box. “It’s dinner, and I’ve asked you not to use that language in front of my daughter.” He stepped closer to you and grabbed your chin hard, “I’ll talk however the fuck I want you stupid bitch!” You jerked your face away and set the box down. 

Looking at Jazmyne you spoke softly, “Go play while mommy gets your dinner ready, okay?” Your beautiful little girl nodded and bounded down the hall to her room. 

You grabbed a plate for your toddler and started to cut up her slice of pizza. “You’re a lazy fucking whore, you know that. What kind of mother doesn’t cook for her family?” You ignored him and kept getting Jazmyne’s food ready. 

He grabbed your arm hard, pulling you around to face him and causing you to drop her plate. “Don’t you fucking ignore me. I asked you a question.” “Robert, I’m not in the mood to fight with you. I think you should leave. I’m exhausted and I need to get Jazzy ready for dinner and bed. I don’t have time to deal with this.”

You tried to pull your arm out of his grip, but it was too tight. “Let me the fuck go!” You yelled. 

Robert got in your face, his eyes dark with anger, “I’ll let you go when I feel like it. You belong to ME!” He let go of you, grabbed some food and went to sit in the living room. You walked towards Jazmyne’s room and found her crying.

You ran in and got on the floor, “Oh baby, what’s wrong?” “He hurt mommy.” She softly said. You scooped her up and held her tight, knowing you needed to make a change before it was too late. “I’m okay baby girl, I promise. Let’s go eat our pizza and we can play with your new bath paint tonight.” 

She smiled wide and nodded. You took her into the kitchen, put her at the table and got her a piece of pizza. You cut her slice and grabbed you one too. You noticed she kept looking towards Robert and you could see the fear in her eyes. You knew exactly what you needed to do. 

After dinner, you got Jazmyne in the tub and she played with her new bath paint. She talked about her new friends at preschool and how much fun they were. You had recently put her in preschool to help her socialize and to shield her from the crap between you and Robert. 

“So, Jazzy, what are their names?” You asked her as she excitedly talked about her new friends. “Arrow and Zeppy, they are twins, well his name is Zeppelin, but everyone calls him Zeppy.” She said with a smile on her face. You almost choked on air. There was no way these children are the children of the man you’d pined after, Jensen Ackles. You’d been a fan of his for years and watched everything he was in, at least twice. You were heartbroken when you heard his wife died during childbirth. She was giving birth to the twins, and there were complications. 

Jensen disappeared from public life after the death of his wife. He still acted on Supernatural, but his appearances in public and at conventions stopped. It wasn’t until recently he had started to make sporadic appearances and going back to conventions. 

After her bath you got her ready and into bed. Walking into the living room you saw Robert sitting on the couch. “We need to talk.” You said as you walked in. He looked up from his phone and his jaw clenched. 

“I’m going to record this conversation for my protection and yours. I don’t want any confusion as to what is being said tonight.” You told him as you hit record on your phone and he scoffed.

“I deserve better than to be with someone who puts their hands on me. My priority is my daughter, and she always will be. I don’t want her to grow up thinking it’s okay to be hit or grabbed by someone who says they love her. I want you to leave, and not come back. I’m not doing this anymore. We aren’t good for each other, so this, (you motioned between the two of you), is over.” 

Robert sat silently. The eerie silence sent a chill through your body. He sat up and started to speak low, “If that’s what you think, then I guess there isn’t anything I can do about it.” “That’s what I’m saying. I need your key.” He pulled out his keys and took the house key off his ring. Then he stood up, grabbed his stuff and left. 

You let out the breath you were holding and quickly went and locked up the house. You called your best friend and told her what happened. She was glad you finally kicked him out. “Do you need me to come over tonight?” She asked. “No, he left his key, so I’m sure it’s going to be okay.” You reassured her. “Okay, well I’m proud of you, if you need me, let me know.” “I will, I love you girl.” “Love you too, bye.” 

Hanging up you grabbed your pajamas and went to take a shower. Climbing in you felt the pain from Robert’s abuse. You cried. Your tears mixing with the water that cascaded from the showerhead. 

After your shower you climbed into bed and scrolled on your phone. You found yourself on Jensen’s Instagram page, smiling at the pictures he’d posted of himself and his children. A new post popped up and it made your heart flutter. It was a picture of his twins and he captioned it with “These two are rocking their first year of preschool. Zeppy has a new little friend he talks about all the time. He said she’s a princess because her name is Jasmine.” Your eyes went wide, was he talking about your Jazzy? You smiled and put your phone down, falling asleep.

The next morning you got Jazzy up and ready for school. On the drive there she was really quiet. “Jazzy, baby, what’s wrong?” You looked in the mirror and met your daughter’s big green eyes. They were full of sadness and fear, “I’m scared mommy.” A frown formed on your face, “What are you scared of baby?” “Robert. He hurt you.” “Oh baby, I’m okay. I made him leave. He won’t be back. It’s just you and me now.” A small smile formed on her face.

Getting her out of her seat at the school the two of you walked hand in hand towards the entrance. Your daughter squealed in excitement and dropped your hand, taking off towards two children. “Arrow, Zeppy!” She squealed. The two children turned around and smiled, running towards her. 

You continued walking and made it to the very excited children. Hugs were exchanged and giggles filled the air. Then there he was, Jensen Ackles. He chuckled as he walked up to you and the three children, “Oh this must be the little princess.” You smiled as your eyes met his. He extended his hand, “Hello, I’m Jensen, and these two are mine, Arrow and Zeppelin.” You extended your hand to shake his hand, not realizing there was a bruise on your arm or on the side of your face. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Y/N and this little one is Jazmyn. I’ve heard so much about your children from her. They are really sweet to her.” 

You noticed his eyes kept scanning you and that’s when you noticed the bruise. You pulled your arm back and felt the embarrassment fill your cheeks. Zeppelin spoke up, breaking the silence between you and Jensen, “Daddy, can we have a playdate after school? Pleeease.” The three children were looking up at Jensen and you. “Well, how about we plan something for the weekend, that way you three can have longer to play, I mean if it’s okay with you.” He looked at you. “Oh absolutely. Besides, I have to work late today and Jazzy will be at her Auntie Nichole’s house.” 

Jensen grabbed the twins’ hands and started to walk towards the door, “We probably should get them inside.” He gestured. “Yeah, don’t want them to be late.” 

After saying your goodbyes, you and Jensen walked towards the parking lot together. “Hey, Y/N. Let me give you my number so we can work out the details of the playdate, and if um, you need anything, please call me.” You offered him a soft smile, “That would be great, Jensen, thank you. I know Jazzy will love it.”

The two of you said your goodbyes, and as you started to walk away Jensen stopped and called your name. “Hey, Y/N.” He stepped closer to you, “He’s an asshole and you don’t deserve that. I promise we aren’t all like that. If you need anything, please call me.” “Thank you, Jensen. For everything, and just so you know I made him leave and broke up with him.” Jensen smiled and lightly touched your arm, “good”. 

Hours later your shift was done. Nichole had picked Jazzy up from school and she was going to bring her home later. You pulled into your driveway and walked in your house. Putting your stuff down you decided you’d take a quick shower before Jazmyne got home. 

Getting out of the shower and getting dressed you walked into the living room and turned on the television. Just as you sat down the doorbell rang. You thought it was Nichole with Jazmyne, but you were wrong. Standing in front of you with eyes full of rage was Robert. 

“Robert, what the hell are you doing here?” Before you could get an answer he came into the house and punched you across the face. You fell to the ground and he started kicking you and punching you. 

You put your hands up to defend yourself and screamed and cried for help and for him to stop. After what felt like hours, he finally left. You laid on the floor, bleeding and in so much pain. You found the strength to grab your phone and pushed the call button. 

“Hello?” The voice on the other end said. You were in and out of consciousness. You started to speak weakly, “Help me…” “Y/N!? Is that you? It was Jensen. You accidentally called Jensen. “Y/N! Answer me, what’s wrong?”

All you could get out was “Jazzy.” Before you passed out. Jensen hung up, called the headmaster at the preschool and told them what happened. They told Jensen they would call 911, he asked for your address but they wouldn’t give it to him. 

Panic filled his body. He called Jared and had him and Gen watch the kids. He was heading to the closest hospital to wait to see if you were brought there. 

The ambulance arrived and Jensen saw you. He tried to get the nurse to tell him what was going on with you, but she wouldn’t give him any information. He paced the waiting room floor and tried everything he could think of to get someone to give him information. 

About 30 minutes later he saw Jazmyne come in with a woman who was close to your age. Jazmyne immediately saw Jensen and ran to him. Nichole tried to grab her, but she was too quick. 

Jensen scooped her up and she threw her arms around his neck, “Hey Jazzy, are you okay? You’re not hurt are you?” Nichole stepped closer, “Oh hi, um how do you know Y/N and Jazzy?” “Hi, I’m Jensen. Jazzy goes to daycare with my twins, and that’s how I know Y/N. She and I just met today, but I’ve known Jazzy.” 

Nichole stretched her hand out, “Hi, I’m Nichole, Y/N’s best friend. Do you know what happened?”

“Not really. She called me and all she said was “Help me, then she said Jazzy’s name. I didn’t know her address so I called the headmaster and told her what happened. I can only assume this was her ex’s doing. She told me she kicked him out.” “She did, but I think he came back over tonight.”

Just then the doctor came out. “I’m here for the family of Ms Y/L/N” Jensen and Nichole stepped forward. “Hi, we’re her family. How is she?” “I’m Dr Fitzpatrick and I’ve been treating her. She has multiple lacerations, some broken ribs, a broken nose and orbital bone, and lots of bruising. She was beat up so badly we have to put her in a medically induced coma to help her body heal. She will be in it for a few days.” 

Jensen and Nichole gasped, “When can we see her?” Nichole asked softly. “You can see her one at a time, but I don’t recommend you take her in there.” The doctor nodded. They both nodded, “Nichole, you go and I’ll stay with Jazzy.” 

Nichole nodded, thanked Jensen and walked to your room. About 30 minutes later Nichole was walking back into the waiting room with red, puffy eyes.

Jensen walked up to her and gave her a hug. She sobbed into his chest. “Jensen, she looks so bad. How could anyone ever do something like that to her. She’s such an amazing person.” Jensen just held her tight. “Do you mind if I go see her?” He asked softly. She shook her head. 

As Jensen walked down the hallway his heart rate sped up. When he saw you laying in your bed, bloodied, bruised and broken his heart ached and anger filled his body. Robert had to pay. He sat beside your side and held your hand, “Hey Y/N, Jazzy is safe. We need you to get better. I can’t plan that playdate by myself.” He chuckled as he held you tight.

Before he left the room, he leaned over and kissed your forehead. He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but he felt the need to do it, “You’re safe Y/N, and so is Jazzy. I promise you both will be safe.”

Jensen walked back towards Nichole and Jazzy. He gave Nichole his number and told her if she needed anything, or any help with Jazzy to give him a call or send him a text. She nodded and said thank you. 

Jazzy clung tightly to his neck, and Nichole had to pry him off. Jensen stepped closer, “hey, Jazzy, maybe Auntie Nichole can bring you over tomorrow afternoon so you can play with the Arrow and Zeppy, would you like that? She nodded wildly, “Okay, see you tomorrow then.” 

Then Jensen was gone. A few hours later, when she was sure you were out of the woods, she and Jazzy left for the night. 

She was worried about you, but Jensen, oh Jensen was worried about you, Jazzy, and wanted to hurt Robert for hurting you. He couldn’t shake the feeling, but drove home. 

You were left laying in the bed, listening to the sounds of conversations and unable to react or speak to them. You heard Jensen, felt Jensen, and above all you felt his emotion behind his voice. That was something you were thankful to have heard and felt, at least that and Jazzy gave you something worth fighting for. 

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[sphvm]

dirty mouth — sophia laforteza

sophia laforteza x fem!reader

tags: VERY dom!sophia, edging, orgasm denial, fingering

masterlist

MEN AND MINORS DNI

being a sex worker always had its ups and downs, a mix of excitement and danger. you never truly knew who you’re meeting, but that’s not always a bad thing, sometimes they teach you things about yourself you wouldn’t of known otherwise.

you’ve learned to read faces, to sense who might become a friend and who might be trouble. it’s a skill you’ve almost perfected over time, but even so, there’s always a hint of uncertainty.

tonight was no different, waiting for the next call or text from one of your usuals, or your manager coming in saying you have one more job for the night. as you began to relax, your phone vibrates on the table beside you, breaking the late night stillness. you pick it up, raising an eyebrow at the unknown number.

“uh hello?” you spoke, sitting up from your position on your bed.

“is this y/n?” it was a woman’s voice, not your usually customer but the way her voice sounded… you were intrigued.

“mhm, this is her. who’s calling?”

“hi, y/n. i’m sophia. i got your number from your manager.” her tone was smooth, almost like honey, and it set off a flutter of curiosity in your stomach.

“okay… and how do you know my manager?” you asked, playing with your nails.

“well… she’s a friend of mine. i’ve seen you around… and darling, you caught my eye.” she replied, a hint of mischief in her voice. “i’m willing to pay more than your usual rates. quite a bit more, actually.”

you felt a rush of adrenaline. this was not typical at all. “how much are we talking?”

“i’ll offer you double what you normally make. it’s just tonight, and if you impress me, there could be more work in the future.”

you hesitated. “and what exactly would you need me to do?”

sophia chuckled softly. “relax, baby. it’s nothing you can’t handle. i’ll send you the address to a hotel where you can meet me. ask for ‘ms. l’ at the desk when you arrive.”

“how do i know you aren’t some psycho murderer?” you said, sarcasm evident in your voice.

sophia’s laughter was soft, sending a shiver down your spine. “oh, honey, I assure you, i’m not a murderer. but i do hope you won’t speak to me like that when we meet.”

“and why is that?” you spoke, a little brattier than you’d meant.

“because, darling, i have very particular tastes. i appreciate confidence, but there's a fine line between bravado and disrespect. when we meet, i expect you to know your place.”

you raised an eyebrow at this. you’ve been involved in some… interesting explorations of sex, but something about this woman, how she’s speaking to you… you can’t help but squeeze your thighs together.

“y/n, you still there, baby?”

“uh-uh yes, just uh…” you took a deep breath, hearing sophia breathily chuckle at you. “send me the address. i’ll be there as soon as i can.”

—

the hotel was just a short ride away. you stepped inside the lobby, the air just smelled expensive, with the scent of polished wood and faint perfume. as instructed, you approached the desk and asked for ‘ms. l.’

the receptionist gave you a knowing look and handed you a key with a room number.

“elevator's just over there.” she said, motioning toward the back of the lobby.

taking a deep breath, you made your way to the elevator. the doors slid shut, and the ride up felt like forever.

as you reached the correct floor and stepped out, you found the room. just outside the door, you hesitated for a moment, heart racing. a quick knock, and you waited.

the door opened slowly, revealing a woman with an air of elegance that caught you off guard. she smiled, and it felt warm and inviting, a sharp contrast to the tension humming in the air.

she had jet black hair, and plump red lips. her eyes had a glint in them you couldn’t quite read. she had a black silk robe on and you let yourself imagine what she did or didn’t have on underneath it.

“y/n, i presume?”

“uh huh…” you spoke slowly, still staring at the gorgeous woman in front of you. she laughed and turned, walking back inside as you followed her.

the room was dimly lit, the soft glow from the lamps casting shadowy patterns on the carpet.

“welcome, darling.” she said, her voice smooth and sultry. you couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated by her presence. “close the door behind you.”

you obeyed instinctively, the click of the latch echoing in the silence. she watched you, her gaze fierce but far from judgmental. it was a look that made your skin prickle.

you follow sophia into the dining room, your eyes scanning the ornate ceiling and the frames of the paintings lining the walls. “make yourself comfortable, baby. would you like a drink?” you decline with a shake of your head, taking a seat and crossing your legs.

sophia squints her eyes. “use your words, don’t be rude.”

you furrow your eyebrows, locking eye contact with her. “i’m fine, thanks.” you reply, leaning back and surveying the room.

“watch your attitude.” her face was dead serious, almost scary. you felt small, as if she was a teacher talking down to you.

“what attitude?” sophia’s jaw locks, and she walks over to you, agonizingly slow. you start getting nervous, your palms sweating.

she stands right in front of your chair, gazing down at you, her eyes burning. you try to keep eye contact but you turn your head.

she grabs you roughly by the chin, snapping you back to face her.

“what the fuck?” you exclaim, standing from your chair and taking a step towards her. your attempt to be intimidating was laughed off as sophia wraps her arms around your hips, pushing you aggressively against the dining table.

her grip on you tightened as she spoke. “and watch your mouth too.”

you scoff. “you can’t tell me what to do.”

“do you have fun being so bratty?”

“do you not know how to have fun?”

sophia’s grip tightened for a moment before she eased back, her fingers tracing a line along your arm as she stepped even closer, her smile as knowing as it was dangerous.

"oh, I know how to have fun, baby." she replied, her voice a seductive purr. her hands travelled down your body, sending goosebumps all around you. they wrapped around your thighs, sitting you on top of the table.

you can’t deny the way she effortlessly lifted you up turned you on.

her face was right in front of yours, your eyes darting between her eyes and lips as you felt her hand slip under your short skirt.

“i want you to remember this moment, okay y/n?” her breath was hot against your lips, your whole body heating up at her actions and words. she cupped your cheek and smirked. "you look so scared, darling."

you stayed silent, focusing on the way her hands felt on your body, from your face to your neck, squeezing the base, moving lower towards your hips, and finally resting back on your thighs. "sh-should i be?" your untouchable facade was slowly coming undone, and she knew.

she slid her hands toward your knees, spreading them as she got closer. you could feel yourself dripping onto the table, not bothering to even slide panties on before you left the house. her hands were soft against your skin, travelling farther and farther until she reached your folds, toying with them as you whined in her ear.

"no panties huh?" she teased, sliding her middle finger up your slit, making you shudder and let a loud sigh out. "what? you getting bored?"

"n-no just..." you took a breath. "you're teasing.."

sophia's face shifted into a mocking expression, how annoying. "i thought that's what we were doing, baby? you love teasing." her finger dipped slightly into you and you gripped the table.

"fuck..."

"language." her finger pushed deeper, sliding against your walls and making you shiver, letting out the quietest whines only she could hear.

"more..."

her finger stilled. "how many times have i told you, don't be rude. say please, honey. use your manners." you locked eyes with her once more, having a silent staring contest until she started pulling out and you panicked.

"n-no sorry... more please, sophia."

"good girl." her hand returns, this time with two fingers instead of one. you cried out, your hips arching up to meet her touch.

sophia's fingers plunged deeper into you, her movements deliberate. you could feel the pressure building within you, your breaths coming out in shallow gasps. her other hand reached up to pinch one of your nipples through your blouse, making you arch your back .

"that's it." she murmured, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "you done being a brat?"

you bit your lip, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but her relentless pace and the way she was looking at you, like she owned you, was pushing you closer to the edge. "fuck, fuck, yes." you whispered, your voice barely audible.

she increased the speed of her thrusts, her fingers exploring every inch of you. you could feel yourself getting closer and closer as she stretched you out, your body tensing. you felt sweat coating your back and her palm made contact with your clit, subtly rubbing it each time her fingers re-entered your core. just as you thought you were about to come, she pulled her fingers out.

"what did i tell you about your language?" she scoffed, pulling her hand away from you completely.

"n-no, no, please sophia please!" you grabbed her wrist. "please..." she gave you a disapproving look, before a wicked smile crossed her face.

"open your mouth." you shuddered at the sudden low tone but did as you were told. her hand came into view as she slid her fingers around on your lips, smearing the wetness around your mouth before plunging her fingers inside and making you taste yourself. "now you really have a dirty mouth, darling."