#keep setting yourself up we are getting a new movie anyway

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

(Thunderbolts) I feel like it would be really funny. There's a x reader where Bucky had a wife, and she just walks in during one of their meetings, holding their kids and like "where the hell were you? All I need a frozen pizza and some diaper wipes."

And alexie teaches one of the kids their first word but it's not mama or dada. It's Gin.

Bucky is pulled away quickly for a mission, leaving you holding the babies...and worrying about your husband.

Warnings: 18+ for language, domestic fluff, Thunderbolts!Bucky before the film, Dad!Bucky, reader likes pineapple on her pizza, I feel this is something I need to warn for. I don't really write kids in fics normally and I've never written Alexi before so…please be kind! Rated F for fluff and K for kids.

A/N: thank you so much for this request! Not going to lie I'm nervous writing anything about Thunderbolts before it's out but Thunderbolts!Bucky does live rent free in my head. It's not exactly as you requested but I hope you still enjoy it anyway!

Padruga - female friend in Russian

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @saradika-graphics

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

Being married to Bucky Barnes was everything you'd dreamed about since the first time he'd strolled into your boutique and nervously asked if you had any gifts suitable for ex-assassins with limited wardrobes.

After a few hours searching for items he'd bought a new jacket for himself, black leather of course, and a smaller woman's jacket. Your heart had sunk, of course there was a woman already in his life. Tall, handsome, a rakish mop of hair flopping into his piercing blue eyes, she was a lucky lady.

Bucky had looked at you, those blue eyes looking straight into your soul, "it's for my sister, sort of, well, she's not my real sister, but she's like a - it's not for …I don't have a girlfriend."

"Oh, good." And then you kicked yourself for sounding so stupid. Bucky had given you the widest smile and written his number on a scrap of paper.

"Call me." He'd winked.

It was becoming harder to appreciate your luck when you were covered in bath water, probably the only shower you were likely to get unless Grant went to sleep quickly.

Bucky had been called out to an emergency meeting on his way to the store and as much as you loved his dedication and hard work you really, really, needed him to come home with the groceries.

You were running low on literally everything and you knew eventually you'd have to do a full shop, but now just the essentials would do. You couldn't have a repeat of lunch, hunting down some crackers, cheese and cucumbers sticks.

Distracted for a moment, Grant lined his rubber ducks up on the edge of the tub, splashing them in one by one.

"Look Mama!" He said, gleefully, "'dis one is Daddy!" He took the duck, left wing coloured in black, and made it dive into the heap of bubbles surrounding him.

"Well done, Sweetie!" You cooed, turning away quickly to hide a yawn and checking your phone.

Get your ass home or I'm ordering the pizza in instead

From the nice place

Get me some fries?

No

and I'm getting pineapple

Doll cmon now youre being cruel

It wasn't unusual for Bucky to keep his work secret, but he would normally be able to say when he was coming home. Perhaps it was really important.

Grant had just gone to sleep when the doorbell rang and you cringed, setting your pineapple heavy pizza down on the coffee table and pausing your movie.

There was a familiar silhouette in the frosted glass -

"Alexi, is everything okay?" The door swang wide open before you could even reach it. It had definitely been locked, but it was hard to keep any of the team out for long.

"Padruga! I am returning the small one." A very familiar mop of hair popped over Alexi's shoulder, face covered in cookie crumbs. For all that Grant was like you, Natalia was all Bucky, soft curls and sparkling blue eyes.

"Mommy!" She jumped from Alexi, landing heavily in your arms, "we went to Dairy Queen and I had two ice creams and one of those ice creams was vanilla and the other was choca-chol-choco-brown-extreme-blizzard-extreme."

You turned a cold eye on Alexi, "I thought we said park, dinner, home?"

"Ah how can I resist to spoiling the daughter of the Winter Soldier, if she wants extreme blizzard milk drinks I cannot say no." He shrugged, an indulgent smile peaking out of his beared.

"God," you rubbed a hand over your face. "She'll never sleep - Petal, can you go and get your pjs on please, I'll come up and help you do your teeth."

Natalia climbed the stairs quickly, sounding more like a herd of elephants than a four year old.

"Do you know what's going on with Bucky? I expected him home by now."

Alexi looked concerned, but didn't immediately start a tirade about the strength of the Winter Solider, so you felt reassured it couldn't be too serious.

"He is discussing planning with Wilson and his comrades. I have advised against it but he trusts the Captain and so we do too."

"We?"

"Yelena has been very helpful and is talking to the rest of the team. We will have a plan soon."

"So you're heading out for something?"

"Yes. I am sorry."

"Fuck."

"In Russian you can say, yebat, Mommy." Natalia's little voice floated over from the hallway and you cringed. Everytime she came back from spending time with Alexi or Yelena she seemed to have learnt a new Russian word, which wouldn't bother you, except they were almost always curse words.

"I'm all for her being bilingual, but could you maybe teach her how to say her favourite colour or something." You grouched.

"Sorry."

Alexi took a slice of pizza and left the address of the current discussions on a scrap of paper stuck to the fridge before vanishing in to the night again with the promise that you could "call anytime."

It had been two days since Bucky left on his bike to, "have a quick chat with the team, baby, don't worry, I'll swing by the store on the way home." And you were starting to move from slightly annoyed to a see-saw of furious and anxious.

He'd text a few times to let you know they hadn't left yet but the situation was complex, he'd be home very briefly before they left, just to see you and the kids, but other than that he was holed away for the foreseeable.

One week after Bucky left and you were truly stir crazy. There was only so many times you could have the same conversation with the other parents at the park before you lost your mind.

You really didn't care if Timmy or Charlie or whoever had cut their first tooth. All you cared about was what your husband was doing somewhere, anywhere, and when he'd be home safe in your arms.

It was 2am when the call came in, he was home, safe and unharmed, at the abandoned airstrip twenty miles past the town border. Yelena and Alexi were with him, also safe.

Grant was a heavy, floppy, weight in your arms as you buckled him into his car seat. But Natalia was wide awake and excited, clutching her bear to her chest and staring at the street lights in awe.

"I can't wait to see Daddy," she sighed, snuggling the top of the bear's head. You made sure to put his cologne on it, every day, while she was out at kindergarten, the same way you sprayed his pillow. So you'd both have a memory. Grant's blankie was the same and, still asleep, he pressed his chubby cheek into the cotton.

"I can't wait either, Petal, we'll be there soon."

You drove through the night, the darkness closing in around your car, streetlamps dwindling and stars appearing as you made it out of the town and towards the airstrip. There was a single plane looking almost abandoned, its tail at an angle, on the landing strip. But there was the faint glow of artificial light under the door of a metal supply shed beyond it.

You slowed the car, expecting there to be someone at the gate to the airstrip before remembering it had been closed a few years previously and there would be no one to care. It must have been a rough mission, to come back like this rather than through a real airport. It was normally Sam who let you know about his return and you could collect him from the big airport in the city or he'd appear in the night from some taxi or hire car.

You double checked to make sure the doors were locked on the car, the children dozing in the back. Grant was drooling on his blankie and Natalia, despite her assertion that she would "definitely certainly mostly stay awake until Daddy, Mommy" was bumping her head on the side of her car seat every time her eyes closed.

You stopped the car opposite the shed and flashed your lights, ready to drive off if they didn't flash back.

It went dark, then light, dark…light and the door opened. You put the handbrake on and jumped from the car, leaving the door flung open in your haste, and raced towards Bucky.

He dropped his duffle bag and swung you into his arms, latching around your waist and lifting you easily. His lips were chapped and there was the tang of blood when you pulled away from a cut on his upper lip. You cupped his face in your hands and inspected him as best you could in just the headlights.

"You're okay." You sighed, breathing him in, burying your face in his neck and squeezing your legs around his waist.

"I'm alright Doll, don't worry about me. Are you okay?" His voice was rough with sleep, his cheeks chapped with cold and he smelt faintly of fire which was disconcerting. But he was here, safe, holding you close.

"Glad you're back, baby." You smiled, kissing him again. It was amazing, even after all these years, ever though he'd been on a hundred missions. It still gave you butterflies every time he came back, not just that he returned at all, but that he came back to you.

Behind you came the sound of little fists banging on the windows.

"Daddy!" Natalia shouted and Bucky carried you, giggling, back to the car.

With practiced ease he unbuckled both children and held them close.

"My little monsters, have you been good for Mommy?"

"Yes!"

"No!" Grant giggled.

"Sounds about right." Bucky looked over Natalia's head and smiled again, soft and slow.

"I'm glad you're back." You repeated, "but if you ever take two weeks to 'pop to the store' again we're over." You wagged your finger teasingly.

"Don't worry, I got everything we needed." Bucky carried the children back to his duffle, shuffling them around so he could lumber back with everything in his arms. "Look in there."

You unzipped the bag and inside - a pack of wipes, a bottle of laundry soap and two frozen pizzas.

[queen-morgana91]

"Aang is an abuser/asshole"

"Katara is an Incubator"

"Aang did hurt Katara, Zuko never did" (lol)

"Kataang is forced"

"Aang is Bryke's self insert"

"Aang is the writers vehicle for sexual power fantasies about Katara" (this is the funniest)

"Katara is motherly"

"Katara has no agency"

"Katara is a trophy wife"

"Katara ia Aang's babysitter"

etc etc etc blah blah blah

Katara/Aang antis are so uncreative and unfunny

How long will y'all come up with broken record bs? every single one of you repeats the same debunked nonsense, its a pattern trained bot lol

Anyway keep crying people :D

[sanguineterrain]

falling behind | spencer reid

Summary: During a movie night with Spencer, he confesses to you that he feels like he's falling behind, having never kissed anyone. You offer to catch him up.

(based on laufey's falling behind)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!bff!reader 

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings/tags: spencer's first kiss, s1/s2 spencer, best friend reader, kissing, mentions of sex, some angst at the end.

the divider

"I think you need another bookshelf, Doc," you say, narrowly dodging a stack of books that comes up to your hip. 

You’ve let yourself in for your traditional movie night that’s become far and few ever since Spencer started at the FBI. His days off are rare, but they’re always spent with you. You hang your coat and scarf over Spencer’s designated hook for you. Spencer’s putting about in the kitchen, cups clinking.

"I've been trying to find one at a flea market," Spencer says from the kitchen.

"Even though flea markets give you the heebie jeebies?" you call back, flipping through a thick hardcover about ancient Rome. Aaaand that's a naked man. You close the book. Spencer’s the mature one out of the two of you. That’s why he’s got books about Rome and you don’t. 

"I'm not crazy about bringing home furniture that was once in someone else's house, though it’s usually very cheap. Still! They could’ve had termites. And that’s a best-case scenario. You won’t believe what some people have in their houses.”

“Oh, I know. Pet dandruff. Mold spores. Your worst nightmare.”

Spencer appears with two mugs of Ovaltine. He's adorably cozy, cocooned in an oversized Caltech sweatshirt and green slacks with the giant cargo pockets he loves. They're so practical!

“There’s no need for sarcasm,” he says, mouth pursed the way it does when you’re being a smartass.

“There’s always a need,” you say cheerfully. 

He's wearing the Doctor Who socks you got him three years ago for his birthday. They're worn a little thin. You've offered to buy him new ones—Spencer insists these are still good.

“So how’s life in our nation’s capital?” you ask. “Besides all the serial killers.”

"Good. I still haven't gotten used to these D.C. winters but I feel a lot less silly making hot Ovaltine when it's not sixty-five degrees outside," he says, bending to set your mug down.

Instinctively, you pull out two coasters and Spencer puts your mug on one and cradles his own. He sits on the overstuffed couch he took from his mother's house. You'd helped him take it. You’d followed him out here, actually, after his second PhD, and you live just outside of D.C. because you’re not a big-shot FBI profiler. You’d split the cost of the U-Haul from California and stayed with him the first night because Spencer can’t sleep in unfamiliar darkness. 

It had been four years since you’d seen each other. You’d shared a bottle of cheap wine to celebrate his new job at the BAU. Later, Spencer cried over Diana and you held him through it. 

"Turning the heat on might help," you say.

"That's simply a luxury the FBI doesn't pay me for. Anyway, thermostats increase the chances of a fire. Especially if the pipes are old."

"We should ask your friend Penelope to hack a bank so you can buy a mansion," you say.

Spencer shakes his head and brings the mug to his lips. "Please don't give her any ideas. Are we starting the movies?"

"Yes! Home Alone?”

“Don’t we always start with your favorite?” he asks, smiling.

“We do. You indulge me, Spencestar.”

You get up to fiddle with Spencer’s ancient TV and DVD player. It takes a couple of strategic smacks to get it running, but you do and you put the DVD in. It’s a tradition, your holiday movie marathons with Spencer. 

You get up and unfurl the giant fluffy gray blanket that Spencer keeps neatly folded on the sofa. You sit next to him and pull the blanket over the both of you, then take your Ovaltine into your hands. 

“You know, you could always invite your new friends at the FBI for movie nights,” you say. “I’d be okay with that. As long as they understand that I'm your oldest and bestest friend and therefore take precedence.”

"As if I need you telling them embarrassing stories about me,” Spencer says, looking at you flatly. “I know your motivations. It’s bad enough that Derek calls me the baby bird of the bullpen."

“Derek is the one that set you up on a date?” 

“Ugh.” Spencer covers his face. “Please don’t remind me.”

It had only been a month ago, Spencer’s date with the sister of one of Derek’s friends. She’d been nice enough, according to Spencer, but you’d sensed more had happened he didn’t want to dive into. There was likely an underlying judgment that Spencer’s encountered too many times to not be sensitive to. 

But Spencer always got nervous about these things too. He had a habit of psyching himself out. For a long time, the only woman he’d ever had a full conversation with was you. 

The TV screen freezes. You groan and get up, putting your mug down. 

“Try moving the antenna,” he says.

“Yeah. The FBI should give flat-screen TVs for Christmas bonuses.”

You play around with the antennas. When that doesn’t work, you turn off the TV. It’s not an exact science—whether the TV wants to play or not is up to forces out of your control. Spencer thinks you have the magic touch, though. 

“That date was pretty bad, wasn’t it?” you ask, checking the wires behind the TV. You wiggle them around and try plugging and unplugging stuff. 

“No,” Spencer says lightly, in that mild, polite tone that might work on a stranger but hasn’t worked on you since fifth grade.

“Spencer…”

“It wasn’t!” he says. “Honestly, it wasn’t even her, it was… I don’t know. I felt so silly doing it. Like I was a kid trying to do adult things.”

“You are an adult. Is it playing?”

“No. Yeah, I know I am, but I also feel so behind. Like everybody learned stuff I didn’t and now I can’t do a simple thing like go on a date with a woman.”

“You’re not behind—ouch!” The TV shocks you and you snatch your hand back, grimacing.

Spencer stands up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, thanks. Where was I? Right. You’re not behind, Spence, you’re the smartest person I know. You’re the smartest person most people know.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Then Spencer suddenly appears, kneeling next to you. You grin.

“Hi,” you say.

“Hi. You don’t have to get shocked so we can watch a movie. I can pull it up on my laptop.”

“No, I’m gonna make this work. Here, hold this.”

You hand Spencer a wire. He obediently holds it while you fiddle with the back of the TV.

“She tried to kiss me,” Spencer says quietly. 

You pause and look at him. “Who did?”

“The woman Derek set me up with.”

“Oh.” You put down the wire—you’re starting to get the feeling that this is the kind of conversation that can’t be had while you’re trying to fix a TV. “You didn’t tell me that. Did you?”

“No.” Spencer scowls. “I chickened out. I just… Derek would’ve told me to just kiss her because she was pretty and she wanted me. But I didn’t want to. And that’s so stupid, ‘cause I should’ve, right?”

“Spencer, there’s no rule for when you should and shouldn’t kiss someone as long as both parties want to kiss,” you say.

“Yeah, but I’ve never kissed anybody. I’m twenty-five and I’ve never kissed anyone. How pathetic is that?”

You frown and turn to face Spencer fully. “Hey. C’mon, where’s this coming from? You know I don’t think any less of you for never kissing or dating or any of that stuff. You do it when you wanna. And I’d tell anyone that. I’m not just telling you ‘cause you’re my best friend.”

“I know, but…” Spencer shakes his head and it hurts to see him so defeated. “I told that woman that I hadn’t kissed anyone and that’s why I didn’t kiss her. And the look she gave me was so… I-I’ve gotten that look before, but… and I could just tell she was thinking freak, freak!”

“Spencer,” you say, voice cracked like an egg, and his name is the soft yolk spilling out. “Oh, Spence. You’re not a freak. I told you that when we were fourteen and I still mean it. Nothing is wrong with you for never kissing anyone. And someone who thinks there is isn’t a person you want to be intimate with anyway.”

He sighs. “I just feel like I’m falling behind.”

You press your lips together. Then you make a decision and stand. 

“Come on,” you say, offering your hand.

Spencer takes your hand and lets you pull him up. “Where’re we going?”

“To the couch,” you say, more casual than you feel. 

Spencer follows you to the couch and you sit. You take a deep breath.

“Who would you want to have your first kiss with?” you ask.

He shrugs. “No one comes to mind.”

You bite your lip. “What about me?”

Spencer blinks. “I—what?”

Suddenly, you’re overwhelmed with all of Spencer’s attention on you. It doesn’t normally overwhelm you but considering the circumstances… 

“Well, um. It would be low-pressure, right? I mean, we’ve known each other for so long.”

Spencer licks his lips. You track the movement, then look away, embarrassed.

“I guess so,” he says. “But won’t it be weird? Kissing each other?”

Yeah, probably. “No, I don’t think so. Well, a little, but it’s just so you don’t feel out of sorts when you go on a date. It’s, like, practice.” That last point feels a little weak.

“Practice,” Spencer repeats.

“Yeah.”

It’s still and silent for several painful moments, and that’s when you contemplate bolting and changing your address. But then Spencer speaks.

“Okay,” he says. “If you’re definitely sure about it.”

“I am,” you say. 

He nods. You take that as an invitation to scoot closer so you’re facing each other. Spencer brings one knee up so you can be within kissing distance.

“So, um.” You clear your throat. “So when you kiss someone, it’s important to find a place for your hands. They can be on their face or their waist or arms.”

Spencer nods. “Got it. Like this?”

He puts his hands on your waist. You stutter on your next breath. You hope Spencer doesn’t notice.

Look, you’re not blind, okay? Spencer’s tall and cute and smart and a sweetheart and your roommate in college once commented on how he’s got hands made to finger a woman, which you’ve never been able to forget, much as you’ve tried. 

So yeah. You know your best friend’s good looking. You know he’s a catch. 

Does that mean you can be absolutely emotionless while kissing him? Not so much. 

But you love Spencer. You’d do anything for him. 

“Yeah, good.” You drape your hands loosely around his neck, his curls tickling your fingers. “Okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then you make eye contact but not too much. Don’t scare them.”

Spencer smiles with half of his mouth. “Don’t scare them. Noted.”

You roll your eyes. “Smartass. Alright, then you, um…”

“Kiss?” he asks.

You nod. “Y-yeah. Then you lean in and kiss.”

You press your lips to Spencer’s lightly. His mouth is soft but he’s stiff, which means he’s going to kiss stiffly.

“Relax, Spencestar,” you say against his mouth. “‘S okay. Part your lips a little.”

“Like this?” he asks, his mouth losing some tension.

“Exactly. Fit your lips to mine.”

Spencer’s warm, his breath tickling your mouth. Your heart feels like it’s going to beat right up your throat and into Spencer. 

“I read about kissing,” he says. “For research.”

That makes you smile, a short laugh slipping out. You rest your forehead on his mouth by accident. 

“What?” he asks against your skin, smile clear in his voice. The sensation gives you shivers.

“Nothing. You’re sweet, Spence,” you say. 

You lift your head and close your eyes. And then you kiss him. 

Spencer kisses gently, which you never thought about in-depth, but experiencing it now, it makes sense that he does. He’s so gentle in everything else, from the way he opens doors to letting you have the last bite of pasta. Of course Spencer kisses the way he lives in the world: kindly. 

Your hands slip to his jaw to guide him. Your kisses are short first, to warm him up. You feel Spencer’s pulse in his neck under your palm, feel his easy hold on your hips, the way he twists a loose thread on your shirt.

“You can be a little more firm. Move your hands around,” you say, and Spencer nods.

He kisses you with a little more pressure, ever the quick learner. His hands travel up your spine and down, like he’s soothing you. It makes an unexpected sob work up your throat and you quickly swallow it down. 

You thread your hand through his hair, your senses completely surrounded by him. Spencer’s more confident now, pulling you into him slightly, curving your back with his palms. 

And before you do something really stupid, like kiss his neck or tell him you love him, you pull back. Spencer’s eyes fly open when yours do. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks.

“No, no. You were good. That was good, Spencer. I just, uh… we’ve been kissing for a while, so I figured…”

“Oh.” His face turns pink. “Right, yeah.”

“Yeah.” You scratch your neck. “But that was good. It just takes practice.”

Spencer nods a lot. “Yes, of course. Like any skill.”

“Exactly.”

You drink your Ovaltine, needing to put your attention on anything but Spencer’s kiss-swollen lips. The Ovaltine is cold. You make a face.

“I’ll reheat it,” Spencer says, practically leaping from the couch. “Be right back.”

“I’ll try to get the movie started,” you say, making a beeline for the TV.

You turn it on, trying to calm your fluttering heart. This time, the movie plays with no issues. Of course when you want it to have issues so you don’t have to be curled up next to Spencer on the couch, it doesn’t. Figures. 

Hesitantly, you return to the couch. Spencer comes out a few minutes later with your reheated mugs. He gives you yours and sits on the far end of the couch.

“Want the blanket?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “I’m okay. I warmed up.”

The movie continues from where it froze. You and Spencer watch that one, then Home Alone 2, then the Muppets Christmas Carol. 

And it’s fine, it’s normal. It’s normal, except you’ve just kissed your best friend. And Spencer doesn’t curl up next to you under the blanket for the rest of the night. You get this sinking feeling, wondering if catching your best friend up comes at a bigger cost than you thought. 

[gucciforasushirestaurant]

Handle It

summary: Harry tests your endurance with a new toy.

word count: 1.9k

read time: 8 min

content warning ⚠️: nonfamous!harry x f!reader, pwp, kissing, sex toys, cunnilingus, pet names (babe, baby)

a/n: i had a dream....and now we're here lol. enjoy!

What started as an innocent cuddle during movie night has turned into moans and slow dry humping as you straddle Harry’s hips. And as much fun as you were having, as much as you love the feeling of his lips on yours, and his tongue in your mouth, he could tell that you needed something more. And he knew just the thing that could scratch that itch. 

He pulls away just enough to look at your kiss swollen pout, cradling your face. He smirks at you, stroking your cheek and pecking your pout away. 

“Want to take this to the bedroom?” You nod, biting your lip. “Okay, up.” he says playfully tapping your ass. You’re quick to get off of his lap and he’s quicker to lead you to your shared bedroom. As soon as the door closes behind him, you're wrapped around him again, arms around his neck, fingers tangled in his curls, as you pull him in for a kiss. He pulls away, too quickly for your liking, and rests his hands on your hips.  

“Get up on the bed for me.” Harry demands softly, “I need to grab something.” you tilt your head, eyes narrowed making him chuckle. “You’ll like it, I promise.” He smiles, kissing your forehead,  fingers playing with the elastic of your panties at your hip. “Get on the bed,  bottoms off . But keep your panties on, okay?”

Still unsure you take a step away from him, doing as you were told, stripping yourself of your lounge shorts and getting comfortable amongst the pillows. You watch as Harry disappears into your walk-in closet, for a little too long. 

“Harry,” you whine.  

“Aww. Needy baby. I’m coming,” Harry chuckles from inside the closet, before finally emerging with his hands behind his back. He smiles at the sight of you laid up in your bed, knees bent and feet planted, in nothing but your panties and his old band-tee just like he’d requested.  “You follow instructions so well, babe.” He smiles at you as he slowly approaches your side of the bed. “I’ve got something for you.” 

You lift up on your elbows trying to get a peak behind his back at what he was hiding, but he turns too quickly for you to see. 

“What is it?”  

Harry chuckles at how eager you are, and pulls a large box from behind his back. It’s a toy. Specifically your dream toy, a vibrator that you’d been eyeing for months. You’d showed him the toy one night curled up in bed, after  he’d introduced the idea of the two of you throwing toys into the mix of your typical bedroom play. It was way out of your budget, but it had rave reviews and a few friends had sung its praises. You never thought you’d be able to have one of your own, and knowing how much you hated spending money on yourself, Harry went ahead and decided to surprise you with it.

“You got it.” Your eyes widen and you let out a little gasp. Before looking up at him with the sweetest most innocent eyes. 

“I did.” He smiles proudly. “Thought we could try." What do you think?” He asks, eyes filled with lust. You nod, biting your lip. 

“Y- yeah. Let’s try it.” 

“Alright. But I have a little challenge for you.” 

“Okay.” You say swallowing thickly. 

“Wanna see how many settings you can get through without coming.” 

You let out a little whimper, but nod accepting the challenge anyway, “Okay.”  

 “Think you can get through all of them?” He smirks 

“Maybe.” you lie, biting your lip. You’re rarely able to beat Harry’s little ‘challenges’. They were always for fun, and never came with any real punishment, but still you always tried your best anyway, for the fun of it. And for the look of pride on Harry's face for the rare occasions you're able to beat his challenge. 

“Alright,” Harry smiles, situating himself between your legs. “Now, lay back.”

You do as you're told as Harry opens the box, taking the toy out of its packaging, laying on his stomach between your legs, face inches away from your pussy. He places a peck on either of your thighs before pressing a few buttons on the toy. It purrs to life, and your skin warms, heat pooling between your legs at the sound. Harry teases the toy up and down your inner thighs, and you jolt at the contact. 

“That’s the lowest?” you moan. 

“Yep.” Harry smirks, “You’ll be alright.” he encourages with a kiss to your inner thigh, “If at any point it gets too much just tell me okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He teases the toy some more, placing it above your mound up your stomach before finally landing right over your clothed clit. The sensation causes you to jolt slightly, but Harry soothes you, kissing at your hip. 

“Oh,” you moan. 

“Yeah?” he asks, kissing along your panty line, pressing the toy further into you. “‘S it nice?” 

“‘S really nice.”  

“Good.” 

He lets you enjoy the first setting for a few moments, and once he feels like you're tolerating it okay he looks up at you, “I’m gonna turn it up one more okay?” 

“Okay.” you whine before you hear and feel the vibrator increase in speed, and it’s a jump from the last setting to say the lease.

“Shit.” you moan, throwing your head back against the pillows. 

“Good?” 

“Yeah.” you paint, writhing your hips up into the toy, “But -”  

“What do you need?” 

“Off. I need these off.” you say tugging at the elastic of your panties. Harry kisses your hand removing them from the elastic. 

“No, not yet.” he coos, “Just a little longer, okay?”

“Okay.” you pout. Harry kisses at your inner thighs and hips, wetly and the sensation adds something that you can’t quite put your finger on, but you know it’s becoming harder to think straight. 

“Good girl, baby. You’re doing so well.” He praises. 

Just as you get comfortable with the medium buzz between your legs it comes to a sudden stop. Your eyes snap open, as you look down at Harry from between your legs, but his eyes are locked on your pussy. He sets the toy down, beside you, before running a finger up and down the front of your panties, drawing out a whine. 

“Look at that.” He coos, “You’ve soaked through your panties, baby.” He hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties, “Think it’s time we take these off, hm?”  You nod feverishly, with a whine. You lift your hips up, helping him shimmy you out of the thin material. As they shimmy down your legs you shiver at the cool air of the room finally hitting your pussy. 

“Can I have a taste, baby?” he asks, eyes locked on your pussy. 

He had plans on getting you off with just the toy. But when it comes to you, and your pleasure, Harry was selfish. He’ll gladly admit it. 

“Mhmm, please.” 

Harry smiles, leaning forward slowly, landing a soft peck to your clit before licking one broad stripe up your pussy with a flat tongue. You moan out, rolling your hips into his face, begging for more and he gives it to you. He cups his lips around your clit sucking it into his mouth working his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves, moaning into your folds. 

“Mmm. So sweet baby.” He purred, against you as your hand flew to his hair, tangling into the curls. “And so fucking wet.” He laps at your pussy messily, saliva running down his chin as he works up a pace. 

“Harry.” you whimpered, pushing his face further into you, “Oh my god.” You could feel your skin heat up, the coil in your lower belly tightening, you were so close. 

“No,” Harry taunts, pulling away. “No coming yet.” before he pulls away with a smirk, and your juices all over his face. He wipes his chin, with the back of his hand, looking up at you. “We still have a few settings left. Let's see if you can handle it.” He smirks, reaching  over and grabs the toy again, placing it on the setting he had before, “Ready?” 

You nod fervently,  biting your lip. He obliges, placing the buzzing wand back where you needed it most. The medium speed had you jolt again but you quickly became accustomed to the vibrations again, whimpering and writhing about on the sheets. 

“You're doing so good, baby.” Harry smiles up at you, “Going to turn it up some more okay?” 

“Okay.” you pant, hands gripping at your chest. Harry sees the desperation on your face, can hear it in your voice. You needed him close. So without moving the toy too much, he moves from between your legs, leaning on his side, nestled next to you, one arm above your head, cradling you close to him. 

Once he's settled next to you, you hear two clicks and the toy nearly triples in speed. 

“Oh fuck.” you huff,  as Harry's hand comes down to cradle the side of your face, nuzzling into your neck placing a few sloppy kisses there. 

“You can take it baby, I know you can.” he praises, sucking your earlobe into his mouth. 

You're a moaning mess now, whimpering and moving your hips against the toy, trying to stay grounded , but with Harry kissing at your neck, it's becoming harder and harder to think straight. And it is getting harder and harder to keep yourself from falling over the edge. 

“Breathe baby.” Harry smirks into your cheek with a kiss. “Come on.” He says demonstrating a deep breath for you to copy. You do, trying your best to stave off your orgasm. 

“Oh god - Harry. I’m so -”  and just like that another click and an even faster buzz starts between your legs. 

“I know. But, you can handle it. Can’t you baby?” Harry asks into your temple, nosing at your hair. 

“Yeah. I - I can handle it.” you say breath hitching. 

“Good girl.” Harry growls, “You're almost there. One more, okay? You're doing so good, holding it for me.” 

He lets you get settled with the current setting for a few more minutes, rubbing the toy in tight circles on your clit as you focus on your breathing.  When you hear the final click it takes everything in you to withhold from coming in a second. 

“Harry - I’m going to -.” 

“You can come baby, I want you to.” He leans close to your ear, sucking your earlobe into his mouth. He presses the toy harder into your clit. “Come for me baby.” 

You roll your hips up into the toy, and just like that, your body tightens as you come in a white hot flash, gripping onto his forearm, and turning your face into his for a searing kiss. 

“Oh fuck.” You huff out into his mouth. 

“There you go!” Harry praises,  “Good girl, just like that.” He keeps pushing the vibrator against you, moving it from side to side. “Keep coming, baby. Give me one more.” He urges, and your body responds on its own, coming once more against the toy.  

“Okay okay okay.” you pant, “I’m done.” 

He takes the vibe away kissing you anywhere he can reach. “Alright, okay. You're okay. I got you.” He cradles your face in his, bringing your lips to his, “You did so good, baby. I’m so proud of you.” 

Harry pulls you into his chest, a hand stroking up and down your back as you catch your breath, “That was…wow.” you giggle looking up at him. 

“Yeah? Good investment?” He chuckles

“Amazing investment.” You smile, eyes heavy, “Might put me to sleep.” you joke, through a yawn. 

“Oh that was just a warm up baby.” Harry smirks, “I’m not finished with you yet.” 

✨masterlist✨ ∣ ✨yap & request box✨

[whore-ibly-hot]

"Special Delivery."

Yan!Boarding school stoner (Tyler) x Fem reader

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: P in V sex, yandere behavior, Dub-con, drugging, mentions of weed, class economic divide? Spying, obsession, stalking, general yanderes, mention of drugs, taking advantage.

"Come on, it'll be funny!" Tyler whines through the door, and all you can do is sigh. The schools premiere culinary student and local pothead is standing in the hallway just outside your dorm, boxed up thing of greasy breadsticks, chicken parm, and an oven fired pizza in hand. Hand brushing back his hair, he knocks his forehead lightly against the door. "Cmonnnnnnnn, if you don't let me in now, Carters gonna chase me off n' we won't be able to hang out at all, even without this-"

He's taken aback as the door swings open, revealing you in your late night garb, prepped for movie night. He's thrilled to see you, and immediately enters the spiel he had prepared. Dropping the pizza box a little lower over his crotch playfully, he raises his voice a bit so you have to let him in your room. "Hey, pizza delivery," he coos, "got an order for DORM 113!" He yells over his shoulder, prompting you to drag him in with an embarrassed groan. "Somebody called in for an extra large sausage?"

"Gross, keep it down!" You scold, letting him in as you shake your head. "What is wrong with you?" He shuffles in and sets down the food.

"What? Am I not good enough, you specifically asked for the Italian place to send their sexiest delivery guy."

"Oh, was he off tonight?" You ask, and Tyler slaps his hand over his chest in mock offense. Flopping onto your bed, feeling the worn, school-provided material squeak and rustle below your weight. You roll over to face him. "Well, despite you being fuckin gross, I'm sure the food is good. What did you bring?"

"Got some Chicken Parm, some soggy-ass buttery breadsticks, and my Tyler special." He proudly holds up the box.

"A new special? Seems like everytime we talk you've got a new signature special dish."

"Nah, this one is definetly the best my-my genius science man brain has come up with, dude!" He assures, flipping open the box. The smell of warm baked cheese and pizza wafts to your nose.

Smiling, you both take some bites of the pizza, topped with all sorts of odd things. It's nice, admittedly, it does taste good. "Thanks for coming over, Tyler. This food does all look amazing."

"Course, man. Anything for my favorite newbie." He assures. The pair of you tuck in to the food, gorging yourself on the delicious food.

"Where's Pez?" You ask curiously as you lean back on your bed, having chucked a paper plate away and cleaned up a bit. You don't want any clutter on Harrisons side of the dorm.

"Where do you think, man?" Tyler groans, scooting back. "He's got detention again. He wanted to smoke a fat one before class but I was like 'Nah, let's just take one of my bomb-ass pot brownies, cause I knew he'd get caught cause this grass he's been using lately has a crazy sce-"

"Tyler." You giggle, looking at him and he shrugs, putting his hands up.

"My bad, sorry, back on track. Anyways, like I said, he totally got caught, and now he doesn't get to chow down. Shoulda listened to me, man." He brags. After a moment, he sits back up and glances away. "So, listen, we've eaten and stuff, what do you wanna do now?" He asks, though you can see him tilting a head back to his bag. "Dessert?" He suggests.

"You didn't-" You say, as he gets a small baggie from his backpack and gives it to him. "I told you, Pez wanted to have that blunt, so I had some extra edibles, you know?" He explains. "Okay, I promise I put some good shit in here, some new strain I bought. Were gonna get kinda sleepy, but to be fair it could just be the pasta." You take one and do a silly little cheers motion before taking a bright of the dense, moist brownie.

"Its great." And it is. For a bit. After the brownie settles in your stomach, a new feeling begins settling in there too. Something warm, tingling. "Mhmm, uh, Tyler? Are you feeling okay?" Glancing at him, his tan skin is flushed, eyelids a little droopy.

"I dunno, man. I feel kinda funky, and not like, in a bad way?" He's laying down on your bed, chest fast against your pillows.

"Maybe something was off with that weed?" You ask, shaking your head and woozy standing. The room spins a bit, and the pleasurable throb in your waist continues. "Let's go to the nurse. We can lie and say we just ate something bad."

Tyler doesn't get up to follow you. "N-nah, I'm sure it's just the food settling, probably. Let's stay here." He whines.

"No, cmon, Tyler. We could get really sick-" You tug on his limp arm to get him to sit up, only to figure out why he was so hesitant. "Oh!" You immediately drop him.

"Told you. Don't think it's 'bad weed' doing this. Sorry." He admits, looking down.

"So we're like, on those gas station sex pills or something? You said this was supposed to be a relaxing strain!" You exclaim. "That it'd help us sleep!"

"I thought it would! You know, keep up all warm and fuzzy till we drifted off... the label said 'bed fever'." He trails off, and you immediately freeze.

"Tyler, that's not-"

"Aw, shit!" He smacks his forehead and drops his face into his hands. He's clearly embarrassed and still sporting an erection which he tries to hide as best he can in his loose shorts. "I wasn't even thinking, that isn't what that means at all, is it?" You shake your head. "Feel like such a perv. I'm sorry man, I ruined this. Uh, maybe there's a way online to reverse it."

You shake your head and sit next to him. "No, it's okay. I know you didn't mean to, and to be fair you were probably high when you bought this." He nods, brown eyes sad and wide as he looks at the floor. You gently brush his long black hair behind his ear, rubbing his arm. "Its okay, it really is. We... I know harrisons out for a game, we can hunker down in here 5ill it passes."

"I know what to do." Tyler perks up, smacking his knee as he does it with courage. He seems determined. "Let me make it up to you."

"What?" You exclaim. It's your turn to flush, cheeks reddening as you swallow. "I don't know what you mean-"

"Its not gonna go away, you said so yourself. And if Harrison isn't coming back, you shouldn't have to suffer cause I accidentally laced your shit." He grabs your hand and squeezes it with his soft but callous ones. Another goes to your head. "See, you're burning up just like me, man-"

"I'm really fine." You lie. If the weed wasn't having an effect, his desperate and caring words paired with his big hands on you certainly was.

"Nah. I know it's having an effect, I'm hard as a rock right now, never seen my dick this mad. I know you've gotta be jonesing for some friction right now, babe." He puts a hand just over your inner thigh, but doesn't go further. "We don't have to, but if you'd let me I'd focusing on making it good for you. Making it up to you for my mistake; no reason you should have to be sitting there with a wet fucking kitty between those legs aching for something good cause of my mistake and me not giving it to-"

"Okay!" You yell. "Okay, just stop talking like that, we can have sex. Just keep it down." You've never heard him speak that bluntly about sex, he's more of an innuendo guy, but the weed clearly is having an effect. Still, it's sweet he seems so worried about your pleasure right now.

"You won't regret it. I'm gonna make this good for both of us, I promise. Gonna out-" He pauses and laughs as he slips of his shorts, making you raise a brow. "Gonna put this extra large sausage to good use."

You scoff and smack his chest. "I'll just touch myself if you're gonna be corny while we do this." You warn as you undress, dropping panties down of your legs and kicking them across the room.

"I'm not against seeing that either, but this is about me making it up to you." He reminds you. You both don't even bother with your stops, your pussy is throbbing in a way that makes your legs shake, and Tyler's still attentive even in his state of arousal. "Lay down man, no reason to be sitting. Gonna wear out those pretty thighs before we even get down to it." He adjusts some pillows behind you so they can properly cradle you to look at him without straining you. He wraps your legs up around his waist, the very ends of his hair tickling your feet. His touch is firm, but he's clearly taking in the scene in a calculated way. You've only seen him focus this hard on his passion for cooking, though you suppose this moment has plenty of 'passion' too.

"How do you wanna play this?" He asks, and you tilt your head, confused and resisting just humping away at his front for any kind of stimulation. "I mean, I know I'm aching to get my dick in you, but this is about you. You want it slow, o-or fast, or I can even just eat you out, I hadn't thought about you not wanting me in-" He's rambling now, his focus melting to anxiety. You press a single finger to his lips, and it seems to calm himself a bit. He sighs and looks down sheepishly. "Sorry."

"I want you in. Not too fast, but set a good pace. I'll let you know what feels good. I'm not used to what I like when I'm on weird horny-weed."

He laughs, one hand adjusting his meaty tip against your folds. Just the feeling makes you twitch, and as much as you would usually like taking your time with something as... impressive as his cock, you're both enduring the full brunt of the aphrodisiac now. You let out a slight hiss at the sudden stretch as he pushes in, but the drug has ensured your well lubricated.

"Shit..." He groans, sinking further to sheathe himself in your heat. "God, you feel so wet, so fucking wet. Holy shit- i-is this okay?" Through his own pleasure, he's resisting the urge to just start pounding away to make sure he's not going to deep to quick.

"No, s' good." You confirm, let the feeling of his hot member getting settled in you wash over you. "You can move, maybe just... angle a bit? Up?" You grumble.

He nods, adjusting his angle as he begins to roll his hips in and out of your limp form. You moan, feeling his weeping tip almost immediately brush an electric spot deep within you. "Fuck, god, yeah, there. Mm, right up there. You're really good at this."

He smiles, sweetly burying his head against your neck as he instinctively kisses a tender spot. His hands steady your hips as he thrusts away. "I'm good at following instructions, man." He groans. "S' why I'm such a good cook."

You snort, he can't seem to stop cracking jokes, even when he's balls deep in you. It's not long before the knot in your stomach grows tighter.

"Tyler, baby-" You feel his length twitch at the pet name. "Think it's happening, think I'm about to finish-" he nods his head rapidly along to each of your words.

"Lemme cum too, yeah? Not inside, but lemme cum with you, please, please man-" He's begging. "You're just fucking gripping down on my shit, and I-"

"Its okay, I'm on the pill." The idea of finishing inside is what sends him over the edge. His hips pick up the pace, cock eagerly seeking out the spongy spot inside you that makes you cry out as he spurts one, then two hot streams of cum.

"Fuck, fuck yeah, right there-" You're ability to keep quiet for fear of nearby dorm students hearing you disappears as the knot inside you zaps away into a red-hot pulsing in your womb. Groaning, you both ride out the high till he collapses just over you, continuing to nibble and kiss at your neck as a string of curses and praises leaves his loose lips.

After a moment, when the weed and the sex high seem to have worn off, he grabs some napkins that came with the food, rather unceremoniously dabbing you clean before chucking them. "Water for the lady," he hands you a cup, and you smile weakly from where you've wallowed in your sheets.

He grabs his boxers and slides them back on before finishing the food clean up you had begun. "No, Tyler, let me help with that." You try to stand, but he just gently pushes you back down. "Nah. I brought it, I'll clean up. Besides, I'm sure you've never had a guy rail your guts like that before, and you need to rest." He puts his hands up with a cheeky grin. "I appreciate the compliment. Huffing, you just roll over.

"Just..." You pause. He turns from where he was at your door, trash bag in hand and tilts his head. "Just come lay down when you're done." Another smile adorns his face. "Of course, man." He smiles.

In the hallway, there's a small 'ping' from his phone that gets his attention. A contact with a rather childish photo of Pez holding up a middle finger pops up. He looks at the message.

"How'd it go?" The message reads. Tyler types back.

"Fine. We had a good time, she's real fucking sweet. A total babe, keeps a cute room."

Another 'ping'. "You know what I meant. The weed, I told you it was intense, I tried it once." The text reads. "Thought my dick would fall off. You didn't use too much, right?" Pez asks.

"Course not." Tyler responds, typing with one hand as he chucks a trash bag into the chute. "I'm good at following instructions."

[pedroscurls]

training partners (pt. 13)

summary: now that filming for deadpool & wolverine has finished, you and hugh go back home to new york and he asks you a very important question. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: smut (18+, mdni), hugh can't control himself, spooning (?) position, light choking, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, fingering, creampie, implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), no use of y/n. word count: 2.7k a/n: surprise! new chapter dropping a day early hehe. anyway, i've anticipated that this story will have a total of 19 parts (at least for what i have outlined!). we got a few chapters of some good ol' fluff and smut, so hope y'all enjoy! thank you all for reading! 💙💛 as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part. - next part.

You and the rest of the cast and crew are listening to Shawn make a brief speech about the movie, about all the hard work everyone’s put into creating this. It chokes you up, tears stinging your eyes as you do your best to take more photographs. This opportunity was once in a lifetime and now that you and Hugh will be heading home, you wonder if things will change. You had been by his side for the duration of filming and you can’t imagine going back to New York and not being able to sleep next to him, or even wake up with him by your side. 

You look up at Hugh for a moment, still in his Wolverine costume but a large black coat draped around him to keep him warm. You lean against him, his eyes gazing down at you as he leans down to kiss the side of your temple. After Shawn’s speech finishes, everyone claps and celebrates the end of filming. 

You pull away from Hugh to continue to capture moments, smiling to yourself. Some are smiling, some are crying – everyone who was part of this movie had given their all and you just can’t wait to see the finished product for it. You manage to sneak away from the crowd, deciding to walk around the set. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to get to do this again and certainly not with this group of people. It’s bittersweet actually – having to go back home and face reality. 

You stop walking for a moment and hear Hugh’s voice calling your name. You turn to face him, seeing him jog slowly over to you. He gently takes your hand and pulls you into him, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “You snuck away,” he points out.

“Just wanted to get one last look,” you smile, moving your arms around him. “Can’t believe we’re gonna be home tomorrow.” 

“This project has been a dream,” Hugh admits. “And having you here made it even better.” 

You look up at him, linking your hands at his lower back. “Thank you,” you say softly. “For bringing me here with you.” 

“I’d miss you hell of a lot if you weren’t here,” Hugh chuckles. “Are you ready to be back in New York?” 

You shrug. “I’m gonna miss seeing everyone everyday. I’m gonna miss seeing you everyday.” 

Hugh smiles, bringing a hand up to tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear. “Me too, baby. I’ve gotten used to you being next to me when I sleep and wake up. Hard to think that we won’t have that when we get back home…” he continues. 

“We’ll manage,” you smile. “I believe in us.” 

Hugh grins. “You’re just perfect, aren’t you?” he teases.

“That’s something I usually say to you,” you laugh, burying your face against his chest. 

Hugh chuckles and holds you close, shutting his eyes as he holds you in his arms. He isn’t sure how things will change when you both go back to New York, but he has been thinking of asking you a question for months now. When he pulls away, Hugh looks down at you and gently leans in to peck your lips. “Will you stay the week with me when we get back home?” 

“I’d like that.” 

“Good,” Hugh says quietly. “Because I don’t think I wanna let you go yet.” 

“Hm,” you whisper. “You must really love me.”

“More than you even know, baby.” 

—

Back in New York, Hugh finds that having you in his apartment is where you should be. You’re so comfortable in his space and he enjoys the ability to wake up and sleep next to you. It’s something he had gotten used to during filming. The question he’s been wanting to ask lingers over him – even now, when you’re sitting on his couch in a pair of shorts and one of his t-shirts with a book in your lap, he wants so badly to ask you the one question that’s been on his mind. 

He wonders if maybe he’s moving too fast, if maybe you’re not quite ready to take that next step in your relationship. Hugh slowly walks over to you, seeing you look up from your book and a smile immediately lines your lips. He feels his heart race at the sight – almost like he had fallen in love all over again. He watches you set your book on the coffee table and lean back against the couch, arms spread open for him.

Hugh crawls over you and settles himself between your legs, head resting against your chest as his arms wrap around you. He shuts his eyes, feeling your fingertips run through his hair as he lets out a contented sigh. “Hi, baby.” 

“Hey,” you whisper, smiling down at him. “How was the run?”

“Would rather have done cardio with you,” he teases and nuzzles his face further into you, pressing a soft kiss on your chest. 

“You’re insatiable,” you laugh quietly.

“Not true. I’m just addicted to you,” Hugh corrects, slowly opening his eyes to look up at you. 

You roll your eyes playfully, a small smile lining your lips as you feel the heat rise in your cheeks. “What’s gonna happen when I have to go home then?” 

Hugh bites his lower lip, chin resting against your chest as your fingers continue to run through his hair. “What if…” he whispers quietly. “What if you just stay here?” 

“I’ve been here for almost a week, Hugh.”

“I know, but I mean…” Hugh crawls further up your body, hand moving to prop himself up as he stares down at you. “What if you just move in?”

Your eyes slightly widen and you slowly begin to sit up, Hugh following your movements to sit next to you instead. His arm drapes over the back of the couch, a nervous expression written across his features. “You want me to move in? That’s– That’s a big step, Hugh. Are you sure?” 

“Only if you’re comfortable,” he answers. “I want you here all the time, but if you still need time, still need space, then I understand. It’s just–” Hugh sighs. “I’ve been thinking about asking you to move in with me for months now.”

“Hugh…” 

He shakes his head, standing up from the couch. “Ah, it’s okay, baby. I don’t want to push you. We can reevaluate at another time.”

“Wait, hey,” you sigh, watching him walk towards the kitchen. You stand up and follow him, seeing him gather his cup and protein. He isn’t looking at you, focused on making his protein shake. “Hugh…” You walk around the counter and gently rest a hand over his forearm, urging him to look at you. When he does, you can see the distress in his features, the subtle embarrassment flickering in his expression. 

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” he sighs. 

“Are you sure about me moving in?” you ask hesitantly. 

“Baby,” Hugh runs a hand over his face and lets out a shaky breath. “I’m sure, but if you’re not ready yet, that’s okay too.” 

“Ask me again,” you say.

“What?” 

“Ask me again,” you repeat. 

“Baby,” Hugh shakes his head. 

“Hugh, ask me again.” 

He bites his lower lip and turns to face his entire body at you. Hugh moves his hands to rest on your hips, clearing his throat anxiously. “Will you move in with me?” 

You move your hands to his cheeks, brushing your thumbs across his soft skin. “Yes, I’d love to move in with you, Hugh.” 

“Yeah?” he asks. 

“Yeah, Hugh,” you smile. 

Slowly, a large grin lines his lips and he wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you gently off your feet. “Oh, baby, I love you.” he leans in and presses his lips against yours, moving his hands under your legs to lift you onto the counter of his kitchen island. 

Pulling away, you move your hands to his shoulders as he stands between your legs. His hands move along your thighs, biting the inside of his cheek as he keeps his eyes focused on you. “So, I’m moving in.”

“Yeah, yeah you are.” 

—

The next couple of weeks were spent moving your things out of your apartment and into Hugh’s home. This last year with him doesn’t feel real – part of you feels like you’re going to wake up and realize it was all just a dream. You’ve been doing a lot better with your self-talk, with your confidence, and it helps having Hugh and your personal trainer to help you. Jack, on the other hand, hasn’t reached out to you since that night on location. You’re grateful though because you aren’t sure what would happen if he continued to be persistent. 

After all of your things have been moved to Hugh’s place, you look around and notice that your life is now blending in with Hugh’s. He had told his kids about you, even having had the chance to meet them in person. You had told your parents about Hugh, hesitant at first because of the age gap, but they were just glad to see you happy after Jack. 

Hugh comes home late one night after dinner with Shawn and Ryan, only to find you already lying in bed, back facing the door as you’re asleep on your side. The blanket doesn’t do a good job at covering your body because it’s tangled between your legs, exposing your legs and backside for him. He clears his throat at the sight of you, dressed in one of his t-shirts and a pair of black panties. Quietly, he undoes his jeans and lowers it down his legs, kicking them silently to the side. He grabs the end of his shirt and lifts it over his head, letting it fall to the floor. Now clad in a pair of boxer briefs with his manhood straining the fabric, Hugh slowly climbs into bed, snuggling you from behind. 

His hand moves to your hip, slowly brushing it down the side of your leg and back up to tease the waistband of your panties. Hugh feels you move back against him, your backside now flush with his growing erection. You let out a quiet whimper and unconsciously roll your hips back into him. Hugh leans in and presses soft and light kisses along the side of your neck, your whimpers and moans coming out quiet and breathless. 

He moves his hand lower and pushes your panties to the side, his fingertips brushing against your slit. Hugh sees your eyes flutter open, mouth slightly agape as you stare up at him with slightly sleepy eyes. 

“H– Hugh,” you moan. “You’re back.” 

“Sorry I came home late,” Hugh whispers into your ear, nibbling on your earlobe as he slowly slides one finger into your depths. He groans quietly, feeling your wetness soak his digit. “Been dreaming about me, baby? You’re already wet.”

“Always dream of you,” you whimper, tossing your head back against his shoulder. 

Hugh smirks against you and uses his free arm to wrap around your shoulders, cupping your neck as he applies slight pressure to your throat. He hears you gasp and he thrusts another digit into you, beginning to move his fingers in and out of your soaking heat. “Love coming home to you,” he whispers, teeth grazing your earlobe. 

“Hugh,” you whimper, moving your hand to wrap around his wrist that’s slowly thrusting his fingers in lazy strokes. 

“I can’t control myself when I’m around you,” Hugh admits, keeping his fingers deeply flushed into your heat as he slowly begins to curl them within your depths. You arch your back against him, the sensations of his fingers, his throbbing length against your backside, and his hand around your throat becomes overwhelming – this wasn’t what you expected to happen when he came home from dinner.

“Baby, please,” you moan. 

“Need you bad,” Hugh growls. He pulls his fingers from you and uses the same hand to push his briefs down his legs, kicking them off and away from the bed. He takes a hold of himself and uses your slickness from his fingers to lubricate himself. “Won’t last long,” he admits. 

“Just need you, please,” you whimper, feeling his tip brush against your opening. “Hugh, god, please!” 

Hugh chuckles lowly into your ear, tightening his grip around your throat just slightly as he pushes himself past your folds. He groans and moves his hand from the base of his member to grip your hip, pulling you back into him as he pushes his hips forward. “Fuck, baby,” he moans. “Always feel so good around me.”

He moves the top of your leg slightly forward, opening yourself even further to him as he slides inch by inch into your tight and wet heat. Hugh drops his hand from your throat to grasp your breast from over the shirt you’re wearing, your back flush against his chest. This position is new for the both of you – it’s intimate, slow. 

With his hand on your hip, he grips it tightly as he continues his slow and deep thrusts, eyes falling shut. Hugh’s sounds of pleasure – grunts, growls, and groans – echo in your ear and it only drives you closer to your high. You feel every inch of his throbbing manhood move in and out of you, but your eyes widen slightly when his hand moves from your hip to your front, beginning to rub your bundle of nerves over the fabric of your panties. “Hugh!” 

“Yeah, I know,” he whispers with a growl. “Gotta come for me, baby.”

You nod and push back against him, his fingers applying pressure to your clit as he rubs it in circles. His thrusts become a bit more quick, almost erratic and you know that he’s close too. 

“Feels so good,” you moan, your walls beginning to tighten with each thrust forward. You rest the back of your head against his shoulder, eyes shut tight. Suddenly, when he growls into your ear, your walls tighten around him and you push back into him, body trembling against his own. 

Hugh grins to himself, holding you close to him as he thrusts in and out of you, using your tightened walls to get him closer and closer to his own release. “Baby,” he groans. “Gonna come, oh fuck–” Hugh shuts his eyes tight as he releases into you, his hips coming to a slow stop. 

You feel his warmth fill you up and he’s panting into your ear. When he pulls back slowly, you whimper, feeling the emptiness that his girth and length has left but feeling his seed trickle out of you. 

“I’m so glad you moved in,” Hugh whispers, placing a soft kiss on the side of your neck. “Can have you whenever I want.” 

You smile and slowly move to lie on your back, readjusting your panties to cover yourself up as you stare up at him. You reach up and place a hand on his cheek as he leans into your touch, turning his head to kiss the inside of your wrist. “That was a nice thing to wake up to,” you admit.

“Yeah? You like that, huh?” Hugh winks. 

“Oh yeah,” you smile. “Guess I have to return the favor and wake you up in my own way now.” 

Hugh smirks and lies on his back, pulling you to his side. “Looking forward to it, baby.” 

“How was Ryan and Shawn?” 

“Good,” he answers. “Just planning for the press tour,” he says softly, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. “Wish you could come with me.”

“I’m all booked with shoots for the next three months, baby.”

“I know,” Hugh turns his head and presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’ll at least accompany me to the premiere of the movie right?”

“Like a red carpet premiere?” 

Hugh nods. “Yeah, I’d really love for you to be by my side that night.”

“It’ll be the first event since we got together…” 

“Is that okay?” 

You nod and lean up to peck his lips. “As long as I’ve got you, Hugh, that’s more than okay.”

Hugh grins. “And you’ve got me, baby. Always have, always will.”

---

taglist (if links don't work, i'm sorry!): @corvusmorte - @dragonqueen89 - @whimsiwitchy - @kellyxo1

@wolviehugh - @moonxknightx - @sullyselena - @angelofthorr - @spectorrrhgf

@needz1nk - @fandomxo00 - @godlypresley - @kythefangirl25 - @callsignyourmom

@sue8724 - @squishyfruitloop - @sylviavf - @emotrash1 - @dissentientss

@sir-thisisadndserver - @absolutepie - @millajay - @itsallyscorner - @haytchee

@wolverigrl - @its-in-the-woods - @d3ad2you - @definitely-not-chill - @khxna

@jules-and-gemss

[cottonlemonade]

Six And A Half Minutes

word count: 1608 || avg. reading time: 7 mins. (ironically)

pairing: University!AU Suna x chubby!Reader

genre: Smutty McSmutterson, teasing, nipple play, friends to lovers (?)

warnings: mdni, nsfw, swearing, mentions of insecurities

synopsis: you haven‘t had sex in a while and your best friend offers to help out

“Don’t.“

“I wasn’t doing anything.“

“I know that look. Don’t call him.“

Rintarou had just stepped out of his bathroom back to the living room to find you staring at your phone, biting your nails in thought.

“I doubt he‘s even up, it‘s almost 2am.“

“Good, then put the phone away.“

“Ha, bit rich coming from you.“

He confiscated the device of temptation, ignoring the pout that followed.

“You’re getting this back when I know you’re gonna behave.“ He shook his head, flicking some access water from his hair into your face - like spraying a misbehaving puppy with a water bottle.

You turned back to the TV, sinking deeper into the collar of your PJs.

Exams were finally over and to celebrate you had planned a movie marathon with your best friend. Since the news predicted a nasty storm tonight you both decided you would spend the night on his couch.

“Why call the bastard anyways?“

You shrugged, not looking at him.

“Booty call? Christ, y/n, can‘t you just watch porn like the rest of us?“

“Eh, nothing‘s been doing it for me lately. I was so annoyed by the breakup and exhausted from studying that it‘s been well over a month since I-“, you stopped when you realized what you were saying.

He grinned. “You know, if you need it that badly, I‘ll step up.“

“Oh, you brave soul. I‘m good.“, you scoffed.

“You were just about to call a lying, cheating jerk and somehow my offer is ridiculous?“

“Don‘t take this the wrong way, but I don‘t wanna fuck my best friend and I highly doubt you want that either.“

Rintarou bit back a remark, then sighed and said, “We don‘t have to have sex to make you feel good, you know.“

“What are you gonna do? Stare me to orgasm?“

You finally managed to look at him - he didn’t seem to be joking.

“Nah, but I‘ve been told I‘m pretty good with my hands. And mouth.“

“What are you even saying right now? I don‘t want you anywhere near…“, you vaguely gestured to your lap.

“Alright then. Bet I can make you cum by just playing with your boobs.“

“Oh my god, you‘re serious.“

“Well yeah, thanks for noticing.”

You chewed your bottom lip in thought.

“What happens if you manage to make me cum?“, you asked in a small voice.

He shrugged. “Then you owe me one.“

The offer did sound exciting and you’d be lying if you said he had never crossed your mind during intimate moments you had with yourself. But this was insane! So many things could go wrong with this. What if things would turn weird afterwards and you‘d lose him as a friend?

“If it’s too weird like this we can set a timer or something.”, he suggested, as always reading your thoughts right off your face.

“Alright… how long… do you think you need? A minute?”

“One minute?! Are you kidding? I’m good, but not that good!”

You laughed nervously. “Fine. 3 minutes?”

“10.”

“10?! No! That’s too long.”

“Fine, 8.”

“How about 5?”

“7.”

“What are you doing?”

“Just keeping it realistic. 5 isn’t enough.”

“You can do it in 5.”, you said, trying to add a light encouraging tone as a joke.

He didn’t budge. “7.”

“Why 7?”

“Cause 7 minutes in heaven.”

He grinned again.

“I remember those seven minutes always being very long and awkward. 6.”

“7.”

“This is not how this compromising thing works!”

“Hey, you’re the one who wants to get off.”

“Fine…” you say, feeling heat creeping into your cheeks, “6 and a half.”

“For fuck sake. Fine six and a half. But don’t complain if you don’t cum.”

Your ears were ringing from his bluntness and you rubbed your legs together, trying to covertly get some friction.

He muted the TV and scooched closer, nodding towards your top.

You were pretty sure your whole face was bright red at this point.

“You gotta lift you’re shirt for me or take it off, whatever you prefer.“

The insecurities came flooding in. Sitting was not the sexiest pose you had to offer. Your belly fat rolled and bunched, then there were the stretchmarks clawing at your skin, plus you knew you had a terrible posture, making you sit like the hunchback of Notre Dame. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly and took a deep breath, slowly lifting the hem.

“Wait.“, he suddenly said and got up, hurrying out of the room.

Your shoulders sagged. Didn‘t take much for him to run for the hills. You wanted to bury your face in your hands but a few moments later he was already back, a tie in his hand.

“W-what are you doing?“, you stammered.

“Well, you looked super uncomfortable so I figured a blindfold might help. I don‘t have a proper one so I guess my old uniform tie has to do.“

That was… surprisingly thoughtful and sweet. You smiled and relaxed a bit.

With his help you used the red tie to cover your eyes. He made sure your hair wasn‘t caught anywhere and the knot wasn‘t too tight.

“Lay back.“, he said simply. You swallowed and slowly lowered yourself until your head touched the armrest.

“You comfortable now?“

You nodded.

“Alright.“

You heard him tapping on his phone. “Timer’s set, lift your shirt.“

Feeling a little more confident now, you did as he told you.

The complete darkness provided by the makeshift blindfold helped a lot and the cold breeze from his aircon brushed gently over your exposed skin.

If your nipples hadn‘t already been hard from the whole conversation before, they were now.

You heard him curse, then shift on the couch. You waited in your own private darkness. The only sound was the quiet whirring of the air con.

And then your bra was pulled down and his hands were on your breasts, caressing, just on the sides at first. A gasp dropped from your lips and you shivered, arching your back into the touch.

Rintarou‘s mouth was dry. He couldn‘t believe this was real. Your skin was so much softer than he had imagined. With calloused fingers he brushed over your flesh, just teasing at first, so very pleased when, with another shudder, goosebumps started to appear on your skin. Your nipples looked so fucking tempting but he wanted to build to it. Not like he had a lot of time, but he needed to savor this. When he finally cupped your breasts he had to bite his lips to stop a new stream of curses. Pillowy and inviting he wanted nothing more than to rest his head and fall asleep. Or push his painfully hard cock between them.

He was already two minutes down. Shit.

He loved how sensitive you were to every squeeze, every brush. You really hadn‘t had any release in weeks, huh. Fuck, he wanted you. He licked his lips and lowered his head. Holding your breasts in both hands he drew circles with the tip of his tongue around your nipples.

And you moaned. Sending lust filled surges straight to his cock. He felt the twitch in his sweats. He needed you to do that again.

He moved to the other nipple, making sure to flick the abandoned one with his finger. You started to squirm and he was rewarded with another moan.

More. More. He closed his lips around you, sucking gently, swirling his tongue around the perfect little pebble in his mouth.

Oh, he was addicted to you. There was nothing else but you. He let your nipple go, only to set kisses to your skin and blow on your little pearls, wet from his saliva.

“Fuck, Rintarou…“

He was getting dizzy, his movements became needier and it took all of his remaining focus to not start rutting his stiff cock against your plush thighs.

Your whimpers and sighs were almost non-stop now and he just openly groaned with your perfect tits in his mouth now, the vibrations tickling your nipples.

Where had the time gone? When he glanced over at his phone, he only had a minute left.

He nibbled at your breasts, sucking deep red marks into the flesh. His hands, so careful and gentle at first, now became groping and he moaned loudly when his cock made accidental contact with your leg. He was not above humping you like a dog but he really needed you to cum first.

“Oh God, yes… Yes, nngh, Rintarou, fuck…“

Shit, were you close? He pinched your nipples, then let them plop out of his mouth before really latching on like his life depended on it.

Cum for me, he thought. Please.

You raised your hand and he almost came right there himself, when your fingers ran through his hair, pulling him closer to you.

“Fuck, y/n, cum for me.“, he whispered against your skin, “You can do it. Cum for me, baby.“

And the timer went off.

Startled by the noise you shot up, removing the blindfold.

The brightness of the lights left you disoriented for a moment. Rintarou sat before you, out of breath, flushed, disheveled. You had never seen this kind of hunger in his eyes. You felt embarrassed, fixing your bra over your slick covered breasts and lowering the hem of your shirt.

You still felt him on your skin. Why did you stop him? Maybe he would have continued, if you hadn‘t. Shit, you were so close.

While trying to avoid his eyes, your gaze landed on his sweats and the rather sizable imprint of his cock pushing against the fabric.

He didn‘t hide it. He knew you saw it. And he was waiting for your next move.

part 2

@nyctophilicroses - covertly slides over another Suna smut fic with chubby reader

[atomicbland]

Just A Mirage

Hello I'm outting myself as the ──★ ˙🍓anon from @ghoulphile. Anyways they've inspired me to fall face first dip my toe back into writing and might as well share the brain rot with the class. This is my first time writing smut or anything relatively like this so any questions comments critques are welcome! I dont bite unless you want me to

pairings: cooper howard x fem!reader rating: 18+ MDNI! warnings: bondage, degradation, pet names, mentions of age gap (obviously), Cooper Howard being a jackass in general, canon typical chem use, smoking AO3 Link

You were tired, thirsty, and hungry. Your rations had been finished earlier that morning though it was not by your hand. The tall ghoul who looked like he had walked right off the set of one of those western movies with his cowboy hat, ragged leather duster, and shotgun strapped to his back had stolen the last of your food and water while you stepped away to relieve yourself. You had come back to him chewing on your stash of jerky while letting his scruffy companion, “Dogmeat”, drink straight from your water flask. You learned quickly that no matter what, he’d treat the dog better than you. He kept you on a leash, his lasso was tied around your waist and tethered to the weapon belt that might as well have been fused into his skin. Anytime you weren’t keeping pace he’d give a rough tug of the rope, causing it to bite into your belly. Argued it’s easier to keep track of you that way. 

While you lamented over the loss of your food and water and debated if hiring the old ghoul was a smart choice something catches your attention stopping you in your tracks. Along the edge of the tree line, you spot the remains of what looked like a house, bigger than any house you’ve come across. The roof and windows were still somewhat intact and something that looked like brick peeked through the vines that had taken over the structure. You felt the bite of the rope at your stomach. 

“Now, I done told you what’ll happen if I gotta tug this damn rope again…” the Ghoul threatened from in front of you.

“I saw someth-”

“You ain’t seen nothin’,” he spat. “A mirage. Just that pretty lil’ head of yours playin’ tricks sweetie.” He tugged the rope again, urging you to move along not even bothering to look in the same direction as you. 

Sweetie. Whenever he called you that you could feel the heat of a thousand rads shoot through your body, making your blood boil. 

“Maybe my mind wouldn’t be playing tricks if I still had my food and water!” You didn’t budge, refusing to play his stupid game. You were in charge, hiring him to escort you to the Old World Wall safely. 

He turned to face you, his eyes hidden by the brim of his hat but his features were twisted into a scowl. “What was that lil lady?” 

He didn’t scare you. You cleared your throat. “I said. I NEED water. You don’t get any caps or vials if I’M dead!” He stays silent, still glaring. A month's supply of vials upon arrival was on the line and he knew it. You point towards the treeline. “I saw a house over there. We're out of rations and it's getting dark. Can we at least set up camp there?” 

His answer is wordless, whistling a command to Dogmeat to run ahead to the house. He gives another tug at the rope, commanding you to follow behind him, a cautious hand at his holster. 

The inside of the house was far nicer than the outside led you to believe. While everything appeared to be overrun by nature the original bones were still there. Holey yet plush couches formed a sitting area around a fire pit that recessed into the tattered wall. The floorboards creaked and moaned under the new weight as the three of you walked around making sure the area was clear. Dusty paintings littered the walls, images nearly impossible to make out in the dim light. 

“Now smoothie,” the Ghoul started, taking a quick break to puff his inhaler, “I’mma take you off yer leash and scope the perimeter ‘fore we hunker down.” 

You nod, happy to have some relief from the scratchy fibers of the rope and to get some sort of break from your freakish travel partner. Not that you didn’t hate him but the way he spoke and stole from you did wear on your nerves. All of the stupid pet names that cowboy gave you did something to you. You couldn’t place it, a warm feeling in the pit of your stomach, a milder feeling of what he did when he’d make a pass at you. And despite how much he annoyed you, you found him strangely attractive. On those sleepless night when you were sure he was sleeping, you’d study his features, imagining his strong hands around you as he pulled your hips down onto his, his cock hitting your core just right making your back arch and pulling the same loud cries of pleasure you had heard him pull from others in the adjacent room of whatever hostel would allow a ghoul and his dog. 

The smell of viscera and tobacco cloud your senses, and you feel a gloved hand around the back of your neck, ripping you back to reality. “And be good for me while I’m gone.” The heat of his breath travels down your neck and straight between your thighs. 

You watch as he slinks away, stopping at the crumbling doorway—a dark shadow masking the top half of his face. “Oh and sweetheart,” he pulls a cigarette from one of the pockets of his duster, lighting it before he continued, “be a doll an’ rangle somethin’ up for dinner. Ain’t much in the mood for ass jerky t’night.” He flashes you a smile from underneath his hat before leaving, Dogmeat happily cantering after him. 

The house is larger than it looks on the inside and despite its current state of ruin, you could see it in all of its glory, like one of those fancy houses you see in the movies. People smiling and laughing around a table piled with food, dressed in the most beautiful clothes that shimmered against the light. Women with beautifully painted faces and clean, perfectly styled hair. Those movies always made you wonder about the world before the bombs, before everyone wanted to kill everyone else, before the fear of radiation. 

You find your way into the kitchen, cracked black and white tiles decorate the floor, dingy teal cabinets matching the Atomic Queen appliances hug the walls. You take care to peek behind every cabinet door checking for any food or water that might have been missed by whoever came through here last. You manage to find some unlabeled booze and canned food tucked behind the remains of some long abandoned animal nest, while it isn’t much at least you’ll be able to eat tonight. In another cabinet you find some Sugar Bombs, the box is dented and beat up but surprisingly unopened, lucky you. 

You move towards the back of the kitchen, finding yourself in a small dark room. The smell of mildew and rot is so strong your stomach would've turned if it wasn't already empty, it's so bad you couldn't bother to examine the shelves that lined the wall. You make a mental note to ask the Ghoul to check for loot, of the two of you, he had the stronger stomach to rifle through damn near anything. Pushing through the door to the other side, fresh air greets you, a welcomed relief to your lungs. The very last dregs of sunlight shine through the windows that made up the roof, tall green trees kiss the glass in a desperate attempt to break free. If it wasn't for the roof you would've sworn you accidentally found your way outside. 

With one hand on the holster of your knife you creep with the brick of the wall at your back, slowly examining the plants in front of you. You recognized a few, Daffodils, Marigolds, even Tato vines. However a majority were new to you;  large flowers the size of your head, and plants that seemed to grow from the roof. You spot some pear and apple trees with the largest fruits you’ve ever seen further into the room. As you found your way to the perpendicular wall, you noticed that it was made of a giant window. You remember seeing building plans for something similar in a pre-war book years ago, a glass house that kept the plants inside at the ideal temperature. For whatever reason the plants in this glass house were thriving on neglect, carrying on with life as if the bombs never dropped. 

BANG! 

The sound makes you drop to the ground, covering your head. Whatever it was you just hope it was coming from the Ghoul. 

Just as you're about to get up, something catches your eye. You crawl towards the brush to get a closer look, little red fruits perched on vines decorated with white flowers cover the dirt by your feet. You pluck one, rolling it between your fingers the skin is rough, yellow dots littering the surface of the red flesh. The sweet scent of the fruit travels to your nose and entices your palate you know better than to put anything in your mouth. Instead, you procure the small tin that you use to store food from your bag and fill it with the mystery fruit. 

BANG! 

Hastily you shove the container back in your bag, whatever was going on outside had you a fair bit more concerned now that you could hear Dogmeat barking wildly. You quickly get up and make your way out of the glass house, through the dark storage room, and past the kitchen. Not stopping until you've collided with a large solid mass, sending a plume of dust into the air as your ass hits the cushion of the couch. 

“You’re ‘sposed to say ‘scuse you after runnin’ into a fella sweetheart.” 

You look up, your eyes meet the dark shadow of the Ghoul's from under his hat. Yellowed teeth show through as he grins wide. You look down to see in his gloved hand are two Rad Rabbits, in the other an unopened can of purified water. Relief washes over you, knowing that your dinner would be more than just Cram and Sugar Bombs. 

“I believe a thank you's in order.” His stupid handsome grin growing even wider. Clearly proud of himself despite him having taken down much harder prey. 

You glare at him before softening, in some way, you feel like this is his way of apologizing for earlier. Any time he pissed you off he would at least make up for it with his actions. Stolen stimpak? Within the next day, you'd find it replaced along with a bag of RadAway. A few bottle caps would find their way into your bag too, when you brought it up to him he'd deny it, telling you to keep a better eye on your shit.

“Thank you,” you pause, it just dawned on you that you didn't know his name. He was the Ghoul, the Cowboy, your escort across the wasteland. But no name to attach to him. You fish for a polite title for him, and if you knew him better you would've punctuated your gratitude with a kiss, yet the older man didn't seem like one for physical contact. “Thank you, Sir.” Is what you land on. 

His smile fades as if your gratitude offends him and he tosses rabbit carcasses into your lap.

“Make sure Dogmeat gets her fair share. She found ‘em after all.” He says, patting the mutt beside him before making his way to the firepit, and lighting another cigarette. 

[daydreamingyuta]

Jaehyun x reader request? Hehe

One where jaehyun x reader are together but 127 doesn’t know & one day, y/n visits them on set and happens to stare shirtless Johnny down as a joke and have a laugh with him but bf jaehyun misunderstood, getting jealous and accidentally reveals their relationship to them? (Does this make sense, I’m like typing whatever is in my head haha!)

My Girl | Jaehyun

summary: fluff, you're in a secret relationship with Jaehyun and you jokingly decide to make him jealous while visiting him on set which leads to everyone finding out about you're relationship. wc: 1,297 a/n: thank you for sending in this request! when I tell you I had so much fun writing this... I was literally giggling lol I hope you enjoy it <3

“Are your eyes closed?” Jaehyun asks, carrying in two mugs of hot chocolate to the living room where you’re sitting. You nod your head, excited to see what your surprise was going to be this time. You hear the mugs clink against the coffee table as he sets them down and then gives you permission to open your eyes where you see the delicious drinks he made. 

“I can’t remember the last time I had hot chocolate!” You say, picking one up and blowing on it before taking a sip. You hum in delight as Jaehyun takes a sip as well. You both weren’t planning on seeing each other tonight, but since all the members were out of the apartment, you decided to take advantage of this precious time. Not that you minded the other members, you loved them actually, but you and Jaehyun had decided to keep your new relationship a secret for the time being. You had been friends for years and didn’t feel ready to be all ‘coupley’ in front of the boys just yet. 

“I can put on a movie if you want?” Jaehyun asks and you nod your head in agreement. You honestly didn’t care what you two did though , you just adored getting to spend alone time with him.

A movie plays in the background as you two enjoy the hot chocolates. Once your drinks were gone, you found yourself tangled up together on the couch. At some point Jaehyun decided that playing with your hand was much more entertaining than watching the film. He intertwined your fingers with his and brought your hand to his lips, pressing sweet kisses all over. 

“Hey.” He says, quietly looking over at you, gently squeezing your hand. 

“Hey.” You say, matching his tone, squeezing back. 

“We’re filming some more of our music video tomorrow. You wanna come visit me on set?” The sweet smile on his face makes you want to say yes, but then you think about how it might look to the other boys. It was like Jaehyun had read your mind and assured you that it wouldn't look suspicious at all. “You’ve visited us on set before, baby.” 

“Yeah, I know but that was before…”

“Before…” He scoots closer to you and brings his lips to your ear. “Before I made you my girl?” You coil in response to his breath tickling your neck, a big smile plastered on your face. You’re too flustered to respond, but his question doesn’t need one anyways. “Please come.” He says, moving back slightly so he can look at you with pleading eyes. 

“Ok, I’ll come.” You say, but barely get the words out before he presses his lips onto yours in a kiss of appreciation. 

⸻

You juggle your phone and a water bottle in one hand and flowers in the other. You had actually been to this set before, so you knew where the entrance was, but Jaehyun had asked his manager to show you the way anyway. Walking down the long hallway, you hear loud music coming from the end of the hall, which tells you they’re most likely in the middle of filming. 

“Are we allowed to enter while they’re filming?” You ask his manager and he assures you that it’s fine. “The door isn’t within shot of the camera.” 

You feel butterflies all of a sudden in your stomach. For some reason you just felt like as soon as you walk in there, everyone’s going to know that you’re in a relationship with Jaehyun, even though that thought was completely ridiculous. 

Since they’re in the middle of filming a scene, you walked over with his manager to a good spot where you could see the boys, while staying out of the way. Your eyes didn’t leave Jaehyun as he sang along to the lyrics. You had hoped he would be wearing a suit that he always seemed to end up in in every music video, and he was, looking as handsome as ever. It was hard to gauge exactly what the music video concept was just from this one set, but they all looked amazing. You always loved it when they changed hair colors which is what Mark and Yuta had done. 

You heard the director yell cut and Jaehyun, Doyoung, and Yuta made eye contact with you noticing your presence at the same time. You give them a smile as they walk over towards you.

You were about to give the flowers to Jaehyun, but got a little anxious about your whole secret relationship status, so you end up thrusting the bouquet into Yuta’s hands a little harsher than what you intended.

“Thank you for the flowers y/n, I didn’t know you were coming.” Yuta says, surprised. 

You share a quick knowing smile with Jaehyun as you explain (lie) that you didn’t have anything to do today and you wanted to see them. As you’re all talking, makeup artists come up and do some touch ups, taking you away from the three boys. You stand there awkwardly for a few seconds before your eyes meet a shirtless Johnny. You were going to look away immediately, but two things were stopping you. One, Johnny always loved getting attention from you. And two, you could feel Jaehyun's eyes on you and your toxic trait was that you loved making him a little jealous every now and then. 

You let your eyes linger on Johnny for a few moments as he tilts his head teasingly at you as Jaehyun watches the whole exchange. Johnny walks over to you, flexing his muscles jokingly on the way. 

“Y/n, you know my poor heart can’t handle you staring at me like that.” You both laugh at his ridiculous statement, knowing that you could never be anything more than friends. 

Jaehyun waits until the makeup artist is finished doing his finishing touches before he walks over to you and grabs your arm, pulling you away. Of course, this was a confusing sight to see for the boys, so all heads turned to you two.  

“Jaehyun, what’s wrong? Y/n can stare at whoever she wants.” Johnny yells but in a joking manner.

“No, my girl should only be staring at me.” Jaehyun yells back. A little bit of a childish remark, but jaehyun could never properly think straight when he was feeling jealous. 

“Jae, it was just a joke.” You say quietly to him.

You’re trying to calm him down, so you’re too busy to notice the fact that everyone heard what he just said. 

“Wait did you just call y/n your girl?” Mark asks, surprised with a grin on his face. 

You both stop in your tracks realizing that you had just blatantly admitted your relationship in front of everyone. Your first thought was to deny everything, but Jaehyun's laughter stops you from doing that. You turn to him and he presses his face in your chest, laughing some more. The boys all come up to you and make their little comments, making you burst out in laughter as well, feeling like a little girl just who got caught in a lie. 

“Yo, I just knew something was going on with you two!” Mark exclaims, which promoted everyone to roll their eyes because there is absolutely no way he could have known. You’re trying to answer all their questions, when the director comes by, telling everyone that they will start filming again. “Thank God.” You say, thankful to get out of their endless questions. 

“No you’re not getting off easy, we’re gonna take you out to dinner with us and you two can tell us exactly how this happened.” Johnny tells you, and you know that you’re in for a long night.

[calicomarie11]

Tommy is a dumbass, but Buck loves him anyways.

Just because it seems warranted on tonight of all nights, I'm sharing a bit of my current WIP. This was all written before tonight's episode, so it doesn't match up with canon.

Subject to change before it gets posted to AO3 because I'm trying this crazy thing where I actually write the whole fic before I start posting chapters.

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

Tommy threw the strap of his duffle bag over his shoulder and wearily trudged up the front steps of his house, ready to sleep and wallow for the next two days until it was time to go back on shift. 

He went to unlock his front door and paused as the handle turned easily in his hand. He wasn’t the type to forget to lock up and it didn’t look like the door had been forced. He cautiously pushed the door open and eased into the house. He set down his bag carefully and grabbed the baseball bat he kept propped next to the door. (Look, his neighborhood was safe enough, but this was LA and weird shit happened all the time.)

Gripping the baseball bat tightly, Tommy made his way down the front hallway, ear cocked for the noise of intruders. As he approached the living room, the sounds of a baseball game on the tv got louder. 

“Goddamit, he was safe,” a familiar voice shouted, and Tommy eased up his grip on the bat. He set it down as he walked into his living room and spotted Eddie stretched out on his couch, a bottle of his beer in hand as he watched the Rangers losing to the Cubs. 

“Diaz,” he said, “What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

“Kinard,” Eddie snarked back in return. “Just stopping by to see if you were going senile in your old age. See, my best friend, Buck, you remember him? Came to my house with a hilarious story about you trying to dump him. Given the fact I had to drag you past that jewelry store when you started staring at engagement rings in the window the last time we went out to catch a movie, I find it a little hard to believe.” Eddie took long drink of his beer as he cocked an eyebrow at Tommy.

Tommy huffed and stalked out of the room to go to the kitchen. If he’s going to do this, he’s at least going to have a beer.  He yanked open the door of his fridge with a little too much force, knocking a few magnets loose and sending a handful of pictures to drift to the floor. He grabs a beer and sets in on the counter before bending down to pick up the photos. 

Evan and him in a beach selfie, a shot of Tommy and Evan on either side of Christopher from the first time Tommy tagged along to the zoo, a photo of the 118 in their Halloween Fest finery and a shot of Tommy swinging Jee around in Bobby and Athena’s backyard. He stacks them neatly and places them next to his beer on the counter. 

He wants to put them back up, where they belong. But they don’t really belong there now that he told Evan goodbye.  He picks up the stack again and opens the junk drawer. He closes the drawer again and then sets the pile face down to be dealt with later. He grabs his beer and heads back to his living room and his ex-boyfriend’s best friend.

Eddie is still shouting at the tv when he returns. He waits until Tommy sits down next to him to pout, “Where’s my beer?”

“You invited yourself, you can get your own damn beer,” Tommy growls. He makes a point of relaxing back into the couch and keeps his eyes trained on the tv. “How’d you get in anyways?” Tommy would have remembered giving Eddie a key.

“Switched keys with Buck.”

Tommy turns to look at Eddie, confused. “Then how did Evan drive home?”

“Man, other then the key for your house and one for Maddie’s place, 99% of our keys are the same. I have the spare for the Jeep and he has the spare for the truck in case one of us gets locked out.”

Tommy shakes his head at this new revelation. “Anyone ever tell you how weirdly codependent you two are?”

“We are not codependent, we are practical and efficient,” Eddie said in an affronted tone.“Besides, where’s your spare key for the truck?” he asked, his smirk communicating that he already knew the answer.

“With Evan,” Tommy confirmed. “Which means you currently have it. You should give me those keys before you leave.”

“Nope. You’re going to have to talk to Buck if you want your keys back,” Eddie said. 

“We could trade, Buck’s house key for mine?” Tommy tried.

 “No deal. If Buck doesn’t want you to have a key, he’ll ask for it back. Besides, half of LA has keys to Buck’s place at this point.”

“What?” Tommy said, surprise in his voice.

“Well, dude gets hurt so often and usually doesn’t have a partner to help out so everybody pitches in. Off the top of my head there’s me, Maddie, Bobby, Hen, Chim, Albert, Ravi, May, Chris of course, Carla, and there’s a spare at the firehouse on the master key ring. Oh, and the neighbors across the hall have a key.”

“Why would the neighbors need a key?”

“Buck locked himself out one time taking out the trash on the super’s night off so he asked Rose and Ethel to keep a key just in case.  Worked out, because they don’t mind watering his plants when he’s in the hospital for more then a few days.”

“Rose and Ethel? Does he live across the hall from septuagenarians?”

Eddie huffed, “Worse, trust fund babies. But they’re harmless. I’m surprised you haven’t met them yet.”

“Wait, does one of them have a septum piercing and the other one has pink hair?”

“Ironically, Rose is the one with the piercing. Anyways, stop trying to distract me and answer the damn question. What the hell, Kinard?” Eddie speared him with a piercing stare.

“I could kick you out,” Tommy said under his breath, although apparently not quiet enough.

“You could try,” Eddie scoffed. 

Tommy side-eyed Eddie. He knew he could take the slighter man, but he also knew he didn’t want to. He wasn’t quite ready to give up on the friendships he’d made or rekindled through his connection to Evan. Sure, Eddie was acting in his role as Evan’s best friend right now, but they had their own relationship.

“Why are you here?” Tommy asked, frustration evident. He hadn’t expected that Eddie would want anything to do with him after he had broken up with Evan and he’d tried to make his peace with that.

“My friend is being a dumbass, where else would I be? Seriously, man, what’s going on?” Eddie asked, and Tommy wants to talk about it, but he can’t trust it will stay between them. 

That was always the problem with his friendship with Eddie, it included Evan. He got that they were a package deal, and when he and Evan were good that wasn’t a problem. But now, he couldn’t just unload on Eddie and not expect it to get back to Evan.

“I’m not talking to you about this. I get that you want to help, but this is between me and Evan.” He tried to resist asking, but the curiosity won out. “What did he tell you?”

“Just that you blindsided him and started talking about taking some time apart, that he needed to get out there and explore his “sexuality” and how you didn’t want to hold him back. At least, that’s what I could make out before he doom spiraled and started dissecting the past month to figure out what he had done wrong.” Eddie narrowed his eyes at him. “You know he was expecting you to ask him to move in at that dinner, right?” 

And Tommy can see how Evan might have come to that conclusion when he’d asked him over. They’d been together 8 months and Evan spent more nights at Tommy’s then at his own loft. Evan bought groceries and brought them to his house so he could try out new recipes and he’d started hinting about how the backyard was big enough for a dog and Tommy had realized that half the laundry he’d folded last week had belonged to Evan. 

And he could see it, his future with Evan. A shared home, a supportive group of family and friends, hosting Thanksgiving because Evan really wants to deep fry a turkey and no one will let him try it at their homes. Marriage and kids and pets and joy. An end to the search, an end to being alone, the beginning of the rest of his life. 

And he panicked. Because 8 months ago Evan thought he was straight, he’d never kissed a man other then Tommy and one day he was going to wake up and realize that he settled for the first guy to make a move on him. And then he’d resent Tommy and it would be the beginning of the end. 

So instead of asking Evan to move in, he’d sent him away. At least, he’d tried to. 

He’d stumbled through a standard break up speech, the kind of thing he’d heard dozens of times during his life. It’s not you, it’s me. This is moving too fast. I think we should take some time apart, explore our options. 

And Evan had frowned at him, his brow furrowed as if Tommy was speaking a foreign language. He’d stuttered out a “Wh-what the fuck are you talking about?”midway through Tommy’s speech and then as Tommy kept trying to make him understand he’d started laughing. He’d actually patted the back of Tommy’s hand and said simply “No.”

It had stopped Tommy in his tracks. “No? You can’t refuse a breakup, Evan,” Tommy had said.

“Sure I can. I’m going to go and let you have your ‘time apart’ but this is not finished between us, Kinard.” And then he’d left and apparently headed straight for Eddie.

“Earth to Kinard,” Eddie snarked at him. “You want to spill what’s going through that fat head of yours? Because I, for one, can’t believe you are fumbling this. And I thought Buck was the idiot in your relationship.” 

Tommy felt a growl in his chest at the insult to Evan, no matter how lovingly offered. Evan was not an idiot, he was brilliant. He was smart and funny and warm and so open and he was going to destroy him when he left. So Tommy left first. 

“Eddie, I mean this with love, but leave it the fuck alone. You can stay if you want, catch the rest of the game but I am not talking about this with you.” 

Eddie shrugged, “All right, bro. Just be prepared for your man to go full Buck on you.” He chuckled as he toasted Tommy with the dregs of his beer. He got up to grab another from the kitchen. 

“I don’t know what that means,” Tommy yelled after him. “What does that even mean?” he muttered under his breath. 

[fleet-of-fiction]

Josh Kiszka x Female Reader

Summary: You bagged a part in a little indie movie. But your co-star is changed at the final hour, meaning you've never met him before. Josh is the director's friend, doing him a well earned favour by starring in the steamy little flick. Everything appears to be going well, until a technical problem means you're left undressed and exposed underneath your co-star. And things start to get a little real.

A/N: I wrote this little piece last year, just to satisfy a little itch I needed to scratch. It was the last piece I wrote before Josh came out a few days later. And ever since, I have written Josh as queer. However, I still love all the Josh fics I wrote before and they are still worthy of being shared. As are all fics. So please, enjoy one of my older pieces in my new space!

Warnings: All the usual smuttyness you've come to expect from me, including the usual foreplay details and full penetrative sex. Nothing too out of the ordinary.

You tightened the robe around your waist and lingered on the edge of the set. The bed looked unmade already. The light above it hanging precariously low.

And your co-star had been re-cast at the very last minute. Leaving you with a bundle of nerves in your stomach, wondering if there would even be chemistry between the two of you.

The brief introduction that morning had left you wondering if you could get through the scene. It demanded so much intimacy and tension that your resolve had fallen by the wayside the moment you shook his hand and he gave you his name, Josh.

He wasn't anything like your previous co-star. His smile was so wide and sincere it disarmed you immediately. He smiled with his eyes. Something you'd yet to encounter in any co-star you'd worked with previously. Not that there were many, you were still in the infancy of your career.

This was your first big movie. Big in the sense that it had a name attached to it now that would bring audiences in. Your newly appointed co-star was already known in his own right. But today, he was just doing an old friend a favour.

"Nervous?" He asked, appearing at your side in a matching robe, void of all his previous clothes and accessories.

He looked a little different without his earrings and beads. His hair a little more tamed, curls resting casually against his buzzed sides. Certainly, he didn't intimidate you as much.

"A little." You replied, watching the camera and mic being set up. "You?"

He smiled that wide sparkle of a grin again and looked down at his feet.

"You'd think I'd never performed in front of thousands of people before the way my heart is beating so fast right now."

His honesty warmed that space between your chest and stomach. You were strangely comforted.

"This is a little different." You pointed out, "A closed set is way more intimidating than an audience of thousands."

"It seems that way." He agreed, "Have you ever done this before?"

You were fresh out of college. Still climbing the audition ranks, setting yourself up for a knock back each time until the answer had been an unwavering yes. Just a little indie movie that had barely made the festival circuit. And certainly, there'd been no sex involved.

"This is my first time." You confessed nervously, "I spent a lot of time getting to know the previous guy, but in the end it just didn't feel right."

Josh shook his head. "Chris wasn't happy with him, either. That's why he called me. I owed him a favour from a few years ago. And, I liked the script anyway."

He was cute. A little dimple forming in his cheek as he spoke. Your nerves began to churn in your stomach at the thought of having him so close to you.

"You've known Chris a long time?" You asked, trying to keep the conversation light as the crew continued to mess with all the gear.

"Since film school." Josh replied, "We used to make short films together out in the woods or in my parents garage. He's come a long way since then."

"So have you, by all accounts." You replied, immediately regretting your choice of words.

You didn't want him to know that you'd looked him up the moment you'd been informed he was going to be working with you.

He stole a glance towards you. A look of benign surprise on his face. As if he was touched that you'd done the research.

"It would seem that you know more about me than I know about you."

You couldn't help but find that insignificant fact slightly alluring. There was no google search that would bring up anything of value about you. Your name wasn't known. You wondered if he had tried.

"Well, I'm a Vegetarian Pisces who enjoys long walks on sandy beaches and drinking wine from my birth year." You replied jovially, trying to keep your nerves in check.

"Is any of that true?" He probed further, pulling a little tighter on the belt of his robe, the veins in his hands almost popping.

"I think, maybe, it would be more prudent of us not to know too much about each other." You said, turning to face him, "I knew a shit ton about the other guy and in the end I realised there was nothing there."

He considered it for a moment. "You have to give me something, you at least have something about me."

Chris was somebody you'd been excited to work for. He was leading the way for indie movies, his work often starting with toe-curling visuals of traumatic events and then crumbling into intimate moments such as the one you were about to film in order to shock audiences and make them fall in love with the characters.

It made sense that he had had asked Josh to step in. You could see how passionate he was on stage in the video's you'd watched. The hours of scrolling you'd done the night before to get a feel of him, which clearly meant nothing now that he was stood at your side. His vibe completely different to what you'd expected.

"Ok, you can have something." You allowed, "I'm truly a Vegetarian Pisces. But I can't stand wine. And I definitely don't have any desire to walk long distances over sand."

He laughed a little. The sweetest sound. A little low uh huh that made the knot in your stomach tighten. The way he made you feel becoming more apparent as you stood there. The anticipation just about threatening to choke you.

Chris suddenly clasped his hands together, the sound drawing you from your internal dialogue.

"Ok, we're ready for you now." He announced, gesturing over to the bed. "So, I think it would be best if we have you both in missionary. The bed sheet will be hiding your lower halves. But top halves will be exposed."

You allowed your robe to fall. Revealing your body in infinite detail beneath the low light. The modesty patch between your legs shrouding the most intimate part of you, but every line and curve of you otherwise on display.

You slipped into the unmade bed. Preparing yourself. Mentally skimming over what he might look like underneath that robe. He wasn't as tall as the other guy, far less daunting for you. His slight build had caught you off guard at first, dressed in a white t-shirt and a pair of beige shorts. Not what you'd expected in the slightest.

Your eyes fell to the side as he followed suit. Letting his robe fall to the ground. A sincere and subtle gasp leaving your mouth as you gazed at his body. His modesty patch sitting snugly against his bulge, which was far more robust that you'd been able to conjur in your mind.

His chest was perfectly smooth. His stomach lined with a trail of hair reaching up from below up to his navel. The muscles at his waist creating that shape you could never look away from. Arms perfectly sculpted, like every part of him was solid and smooth. Carved from marble.

As he made his way over to you, there was a profound rush of blood to your core. You felt the ache almost immediately as he positioned himself above you. Leaning his weight on arms either side of you. Your legs wide open beneath the sheet, with very minimal contact.

"Are you both comfortable?" Chris asked, signalling over to another member of the crew, who brought a smaller camera unflinchingly close.

You nodded. Josh nodded.

"Ok, hold those positions for me just a second..."

Chris scurried off. Exchanging heated words with the rest of the crew. You couldn't make out what they were saying, but you knew it wasn't good.

"There's a technical issue." Josh sighed, "And if we move then they'll have to set up the lighting all over again."

You wrinkled your nose. "You managed to catch all that?"

"Can't see why else he would be so pissed." He surmised, daring to look down at you for the first time.

You took note of the way the muscles in his arms were flexed. His shoulders a little hunched, straining against his modesty patch not making contact with yours. You could see him start to visibly shake.

"I can't hold like this much longer." He moaned, his voice low and careful. "We might have to move, anyway."

It was in your mind to agree. There was a part of you that wanted to make a good impression, though. To not create more issues when there appeared to be enough already. Josh was so tense. So consumed with professionalism. It was endearing.

"Relax a little." You encouraged. "That can't be comfortable for you like that."

"Oh, there's nothing I would love more." He replied heartily, "But the minute I do there's nothing stopping us from...uh, bumping into each other."

"Josh." You said pointedly, "You'll be too exhausted for the scene, just let go. I don't mind..."

You could see that he was lost in thought. His eyes trailed down the centre of your chest and came to rest at your breasts. A little tremble in his lip as he allowed his body to soften against you. His shoulders dipped a little. His waist moving forward. You could feel his modesty patch rest against yours. But it wasn't unpleasant. And the look of sheer relief on his face was radiant.

"Guys I'm so sorry about this." Chris said, hurrying back over to the bed with a little walkie talkie in his hand. "I know it's meant to be a closed set but I need my tech guy and his assistant to come in. Feel free to get back into your robes and we can re-set."

"We're good." Josh replied, without any hesitation. "The last thing you need is a re-set."

There was a peculiar edge to the way Chris' face responded. Almost as if he hadn't expected it.

"Are you sure? I mean... I don't know how long this is going to take..."

"I'm sure." Josh continued, "Do what you have to do."

Chris looked towards you. "You ok down there?"

The scent of his cologne was in the air. A sexy, woody scent that was unlike anything you'd ever smelled before.

"All good here." You replied, fighting the urge not to lift your head into the crook of his neck to take in more of it.

Suddenly it was as if you were alone with him. Chris and the rest of the crew were gathered at the side, preoccupied with the faulty camera and lost in muffled conversation.

Josh was quite literally between your legs. Your bodies in full contact. His stance a little more fluid now, but he still held himself above you as a matter of politeness.

"I like that freckle." He pondered, making eyes at the little dark spot on your collar bone.

You couldn't help but giggle. "I like your scar."

You reached up and tapped your finger against his cheek. "Chicken pox?"

"I was six." He replied, "Me and my brother both got it at the same time. He's got a scar on the same side, too."

Oh god, why did he have to be so charming? You could see the way he was fighting against looking at you, trying to keep your eye contact rather than notice all the nuances of your body.

"You can't help yourself, can you?" You said, taking in the brown and hazel in his eyes. "You're a talker, aren't you?"

Crimson rose in his cheeks. "I'm sorry. It's just a bizarre situation to be in."

"Agreed." You sighed, "Although I am going to have to move a little, my hips are starting to ache."

Immediately, he lifted up. Allowing you to close your legs a little before repositioning. The contact sent ripples of heat throughout your body. The sensation of his skin against yours was so palpable, you hadn't expected it.

"You want me to stay up here or...?" He asked, lingering in the space between your thighs.

"Take the stress off your arms." You replied, inviting him to bring his weight down upon you.

He lilted down onto his forearms, taking the strain off his biceps. Bringing his face a little closer. And his bulge was pressed even further against your patch. All you could focus on was the way he felt against you. Smooth and solid. And he smelled heavenly.

"I kinda wish there weren't any camera's rolling." He confessed, "Then we could just get on with it."

You couldn't fight against the natural position of your arms. Resting at your side, it felt more comfortable to bring them to the curve of his spine. Less awkward. The movement made him hiss through clenched teeth.

"Then it would be a terrible movie that nobody would ever get to see." You muttered, trying to keep your touch feather light.

You barely noticed when Chris returned, kneeling at the side of the bed as you stared into Josh's eyes.

"Ok, we need to ditch this camera entirely. It's fucking dead." He explained, "So the plan is to keep the primary one rolling and get all the side angles done. I've sent for a replacement. So it might mean having to do all of this again after lunch. Which I can only only apologise for."

It didn't feel as if an apology was required. There was a hint of a sly grin on Josh's perfectly pouted mouth as he looked at you.

"You want us to go at it?" Josh asked, "Like, right now?"

Chris rolled his eyes, speaking with his hands as he gave a little direction.

"You're in love with this girl. It's your first time back at her place. You're a little nervous. And you've been waiting for this moment. Try to play it like that. She doesn't know you're in love with her yet. But she's in love with you, too. It's like a secret you both carry. I'm going to leave the camera running while I go and make sure the back up is running ok. I'll leave Mike to run it, he knows what he's doing. I think this could work out much better, actually."

As Chris walked out of the room, it fell silent. You could scarcely feel the presence of the guy standing in the corner, manning the camera quietly. You had no dialogue. No idea where to even begin.

A small voice broke the tension. "Uh, just to let you know we're rolling, guys."

Josh was trembling again. You could feel him shake against you. His mouth open a little as he checked in with you.

"I'm going to kiss you now, if that's ok?"

You didn't need to respond in words. It felt like permission to do whatever he wanted was silently granted. You didn't want to film a love scene with him. You wanted to fuck him, genuinely and passionately fuck him. Not as your character, but as yourself. And you'd never felt more disappointed.

Why couldn't you just be professional? Even as he leaned down and gently pressed his lips against yours you wished that you could just let him touch you without wanting it to be real.

The kiss deepened as you opened your mouth. Letting his tongue slide in, making sure the camera could see it as he turned his head. He felt like velvet. The taste of mint on his breath. Like he'd prepared for you.

In the distance, you heard a door opening.

"Oh, that's good." You heard Chris say, as he came back in carrying a bundle of wires and cords. "There's going to be soundtrack over the visual, so don't worry about verbal co-ordination. You're doing great."

You could feel yourself want to move. The bed sheet was languishing at Josh's waist, thin and light enough that your shadows could be seen beneath. You wrapped your legs around him a little, causing him to gasp into your mouth.

"Oh, shit..." He uttered, burying his face into the curve of your neck.

You felt it. The hardness. The way it grew against his modesty patch and threatened to detach it entirely.

"I'm so sorry....I'm so sorry...." He breathed, urgently recoiling his hand down to where he tried to contain it.

"Just go with it." You whispered, "I'm a grown woman, aren't I?"

You reached down and whipped it off for him. The relief etched in his brow as his cock sprang free. You knew that Chris had noticed. How could he not? But he remained silent.

You drew him into a rhythm. His cock pressed achingly hard against your patch, his girth and length writhing up against you as his body moved. The simulation only partially real.

"Is this ok?" He asked in peaked breaths, trying to keep his flushed face in shot.

"Mmm'hmmm." You replied softly, tossing your head back and arching your spine to accommodate the new sensation.

That was when you heard them talking. Chris and Mike in the corner, their heads leaned in to one another, discussing something you couldn't make out.

"Just keep going." He finally said, "We're going to dip out. The camera is on. Do whatever."

The door closed. The set fell to a level of intimacy you hadn't expected. Josh, above you, looking down as he began to pound into you.

You were hopelessly caught in the crossfire of wanting to take your own modesty patch off. To reach down and just pull it away. Biting down on your lower lip against the intrusive thoughts.

"Oh, fuck..." He stuttered, trying so hard to keep himself steady. "I can't believe this is happening..."

You felt a little moisture land on your stomach. Looking down you could see him leaking out above your patch.

"Just say it, Josh." You said breathlessly, "Just tell me to take it off."

There was a conflict there in his face as he considered it. You began to wonder what would happen if he didn't? Did it mean that he didn't want it like you did? Was his throbbing hard on just a reaction to the environment or did he really want to fuck you, too? His body was tense again, his tongue coming into your mouth a little harder as he continued to pound his erection against the little strip of fabric keeping you apart.

"Fuck it." He finally relented, "Take the fucking thing off."

The sound which escaped your lungs as he plunged into you filled the entire room. The sheet slipped off the bed. You could feel your legs being lifted, his torso leaning up. You were at his mercy.

He filled you up so completely. Stretching you. Making it sting. His beautiful little grunts intensified as he looked down at you, laid bare for him in reality as well as for the film.

"You look so fucking beautiful." He told you, uncertain if it were Josh speaking to you or if he was still in character.

It mattered little. This feeling was euphoric. The camera only serving to make the rush that little bit more erotic. You laid there and marvelled at his body as he fucked into you. Every muscle that flexed on display for you.

Or was it for you? Was it for the camera? You looked over towards it. Breaking a cardinal rule. The red light on the side flashing.

"Do you like to watch?" You asked, staring directly into the lens.

Josh stilled for a moment. "Oh, you're fucking filthy aren't you?"

"They can't use this now." You mused, pulling him down onto you again, missing the contact of him against you. "Just fuck me good, we can do a real take later."

He took his cue from you, nobody else. Even if it meant you'd be fired, you would have this. He felt too good. Each thrust was sweeter than the last. Questioning yourself on why you wanted him so bad. This wasn't like you. You weren't the type to risk everything for how good a cock felt inside you.

"You like how I feel, huh?" He asked, ask if he could hear your reverie loud and clear.

"Fuck, yes." You found yourself saying, "Oh, fuck...I'm in so much trouble..."

He managed to smile that devastating grin as he hung above, deliciously moving his hips into you a little slower. Teasing. Making it last longer.

"Don't worry." He reassured, "Your pussy feels so fucking good, there's no way I'm not fucking this again."

You were floored. Dumbfounded. "What about...Chris...the movie..."

His mouth was at your nipples. Grazing his teeth over the hard peak, licking around them until he took them between his lips and sucked.

"Don't make me say it." He said between bites, "I'll make him delete this. But not before I get a copy. You won't be out of a job, trust me..."

He was sincere and genuine before, you had no reason to doubt his sincerity now. Not while he was inside you. Telling you how good you felt, how beautiful you looked. You'd never seen anyone more engrossed in you, his focus completely on you and not on your surroundings.

"Where do you want me to cum?" He asked diligently, his tongue licking a stripe up your throat.

You could barely keep it together. Your high pitched moans coming in louder, fingers digging into his ass cheeks as he picked up the pace.

"I don't care..."

Your clit was throbbing for pressure. Instinctually, he seemed to gravitate towards it. Pressing his thumb against the swell as he continued the onslaught. The entire thing was so erotic, so unlike you.

"Are you on birth control?" He asked tentatively, leading soft and slow swirls against your clit as he watched his cock slide in and out of you.

You nodded. Looking up at how he seemed to know exactly where your mind was at.

"Oh, you're fucking getting it." He said, "All of it."

You knew he was close. The way he came down on you and pressed his entire body against you. Ready to give his all into the final thrusts. You were satisfied, but not nearly close to being done with him.

"You first." He whispered softly, gyrating his hips in a circular motion so that your clit got full sensation.

You fell apart so quickly, it was like a bolt of lightening striking from the tip of your clit and resonating out towards the rest of your beating veins. You gripped him so tight, certain he would cum soon after.

"That's so fucking hot." He told you, "I felt everything twitch, your pussy felt so tight..."

Fuck, he really was a talker. You heard him whisper obscenities as he continued. Working himself up into a frenzy.

You felt the need to requite his tenacity.

"Fucking cum inside me!" You demanded, locking your legs against his ass. "I want to feel it spill."

He wasn't expecting it. But you felt vindicated as he convulsed on top of you. Moaning heavily into your ear. The hot, warm and sticky mess he created spurting inside you. Nothing had ever felt more intense.

For a moment nothing felt real. Not the light above. Nor the camera at your side. The silence was deafening as you both tried to catch your breath.

Reeling back into reality.

"What the fuck just happened?!" You asked, "Oh my god, I am so fucking sorry. That was so unprofessional of me!"

"And me." He replied, his throat flexing as he swallowed hard. "I didn't mean for that to happen, at all. I promise."

"But it did happen." Chris said, peeking his head around the door. "Is it safe to come in?"

Josh was soft now. Pulling away from you, but leaving his cum behind. He wrapped the bed sheet around you both, making sure your modesty was kept despite what you'd both just done.

"I can't lie guys, I wasn't expecting that." He sighed, rubbing a stressed hand across his brow. "And you know I can't use 99.9% of that, because it would be classed as porn."

"I know, buddy." Josh replied mischievously, "I'm sorry, it just got really weird up here for a minute there."

Immediately, he looked over at you. "Not weird like...I wanted to do it. I wanted to do it when I met you this morning, truth be told."

Chris turned off the camera. Clearly conflicted.

"I can't lie guys, that was some of the hottest shit I've ever seen. I would love nothing more than to include it in the movie. I really would. It was...intense. The way you both looked at each other, shit you had me believing you were honestly in love."

You felt slightly smug.

"So, I'm not fired?" You asked, feeling Josh's cum against your thighs, like a memory you weren't ready to let go of.

"No, you're far from fired." Chris replied, laughing a little as he shook his head and started setting up the replacement camera. "However, you are going to have to get yourselves cleaned up and do this again. But...for pretend this time...I can't believe I'm actually saying this."

You didn't want to move. Even as Josh unashamedly tossed you a new robe, you could feel yourself wanting to die a little inside. Chris didn't even flinch as Josh got up, kissing you on the lips as he left.

"I'm so fucking embarrassed." You sighed, trying to put the robe on without Chris getting an eyeful of everything he'd already seen.

"Ah, don't be." He replied, "Josh was never a wallflower. Even in college. He liked a fucking audience, I don't know why I expected anything less when I asked him to do this."

"So... he's done this before?" You dared to ask, wrapping yourself in the soft towelling and rising from the bed.

Chris was clearly amused. "From what I saw behind the scenes, I think he might have taken his lead from you? It doesn't really matter. But for what it's worth, no. He's never done this before."

"Oh." You replied, a wave of something you had no name for blooming in your chest.

"Go and get some lunch and be ready to do this again....sort of...in an hour. Ok?" He instructed.

"Ok." You replied, padding off towards the dressing room in the direction Josh had gone in.

The End.

@caprisunsister @thewritingbeforesunrise @takenbythemadness @katuschka @its-interesting-van-kleep @lvnterninthenight @writingcold @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @edgingthedarkness @velveteencatch @lyndz2names @nina-23-45 @itsafullmoon @vikingisthenewsexy @char289 @gretavangroupie

[ancha-aus]

RealAge AU Drabble - Parentalbond Dust

I am back :3 Another drabble for the RealAge AU (Thanks @spotaus as always for starting this treat by treating me to the first prompt that got this ball rolling)

First drabble Prev drabble Next drabble

Remember how in the last drabble I uploaded i mentioned those parentalbonds? (honestly if you read my drabbles in order these before things won't make ANY kind of sense... anyway!)

I had been thinking about how all of them bond with they new tiny boss and finally settles on how. The question then was. Who goes first?

I decided to go in order of who bonded with Nightmare first :3

So, big surprise. Dust. (everyone was surprised by this)

Warnings as always, unedited and unbeta'ed. We are here for a good and fun time.

Slight warning for Ghost/hallucination Papyrus being rude and mean and intrusive thoughts.

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

Dust can admit that Nightmare is fast. Dust is just faster, by a lot.

As soon as Nightmare shifts Dust has an arm around him and drags him back to his side.

Nightmare glares at him, and it would have been terrifying and effective.

If Nightmare wasn't tiny.

Fuck DUst is still not over how TINY his boss is now.

Can Dust even still call him boss? That would be weird. Kiler tends to call Nightmare Tiny Boss now but Dust isn't quite set on a name yet.

Nightmare grumbles nad glares to the side once it becomes clear once again that Dust isn't going to get intimidated.

Nightmare glances at him before crossing his arms as he looks to the side "This is stupid."

Dust nods "I agree." Dust did not want to be here just watching Nightmare and keeping him from wandering and getting lost.

A cackle and then a whisper Really? First kidnaping and now keeping him a prisoner? How low you have sunk. Keeping a child captured and locked away.

Dust's hand forms a fist as he tries to ignore the muttering. They just need Nightmare to see he can trust them. That is all. That takes time. The chackle just chackles on.

Nightmare shoots him a look "It is stupid. I don't need supervision. I am fine on my own."

Dust goes to nod before blinking and shooting him a look "Yeah no. Nice try. I am staying right here."

Nightmare looks beyond annoyed but it is justified that one of them watches over him. Mostly because Nightmare had already managed to almost escape three times.

Look, it has been an hectic week since they euh... found Nightmare again.

Even more laughter that no one else hears Oh? That is what you call it now? That is what you call stalking a child? Following him everywhere? Finding out where he feels safest and surprising him there? Hah! Found! You are a liar and you even lie to yourself.

Dust glares harder at the dark wall as he pulls his knees up and leans on those as he watches the wall, still being a physical barrier between Nightmare and the door.

Nightmare glares at him but Dust just keeps glaring at the shedwall. Waiting. Hoping one of the others will come to relieve him of this babysitting duty. He hates it. He feels useless and stuck.

A huff Wow? Really? You decided to capture him and now you are annoyed you have to watch your prisoner? And even better the one you captured was the one to save you before? You really are thankless and impossible to please. You will never be happy or content and you don't deserve to feel other of those things.

Dust takes another deep breath. He needs a distraction. But what?!

Dust takes out his phone and scrolls through what he has on there. He sees a few movies and gets an idea.

He needs to wait while the others get supplies anyway. Cross is getting information about the multiverse, Horror is getting them food and Killer is getting them overall supplies.

Which means they should still be busy for a while.

Dust pauses as he shoots Nightmare a look. Nightmare had just been sitting there staring at his own feet as he wiggles his feet a bit. Distracted for a bit.

Dust grins as he reaches for Nightmare and quickly grabs him.

Nightmare immediantly freezes for a moment before glaring "What?!"

Dust grins and just turns him around and his old hoody that Nightmare had taken and stolen ages ago. and as Nightmare has his arms crossed he puts the hoody on him. He yelps but Dust doens't give him time to try and get his arms in the right sleeves. Instead Dust ties those together.

He thinks for a moment before grabbing his scarf and using that to tie up the slippery skeleton.

Dust takes a step back to watch his handy work and can't help but snort.

Nightmare looks shocked down at his state. The hoody already making it harder for him to move and now the scarf kept him even more from moving. The problem was. With Nightmare just being tiny and looking like a babybones... He looks plainly adorable. Fuck Dust kinda wished he had made a bow instead of a knot but he has a mission.

Dust nods and looks at Nightmare "Don't move. I am going to grab some food." He turns and leaves the shed.

It should take Nightmare at least a little while to escape that situation. And Nightmare hadn't tried another teleport after he butchered the last one and got them all thrown into a river. Which means that Dust doubts he will try another one soon.

Dust follows the road and by memory finds the pizza place they walked by not too long ago. He only has to wait for a little while before a delivery boy goes by on bike. He kicks off the guy and snatches the bag. Dust is already in the bushes again before the human has time to form a completely sentence.

Dust has to take a bit of a longer way back to make sure he doesn't go over the road. But as he cuts through backyards and gardens he can't help but feel a bit anxious. What if Nightmare escapes? How is he going to explain that.

By the time he is by the shed again he is close to shaking. He opens it and snorts as Nightmare seems to have fallen over. Less funny is the fact he has almost wiggled his way out of his trappings.

Dust puts the bag to the side and silently joins Nightmare's side "And? Is it working?"

Nightmare freezes before a mutter "I hate you."

That.

Dust isn't sure how to explain how much that hurts.

A sneer Really? Are your poor feelings hurt? By just that? What? Are you sad your so-called boss finally hates you? After all the disappointment and betrayal? And yet you feel sad? You truly are nothing but disgusting and disapointing trash.

Dust ignores it as he pulls Nightmare back upright and undoes the scarf binding and unknots the sleeves. Dust has already helped Nightmare with getting on of his arms into the right sleeve before Dust realises what he is doing.

Dust freezes and Nightmare ignores him as he quickly finishes dressing himself. After which Nightmare glances at him with an expecting look.

Dust instead just sits down on his spot on the ground. Opens the bag and fishes out the food. Oh nice. two pizzas instead of one. He lays both open near him before spotting some weird shake things, three of them. Dust shrugs again and places them near them. Next he grabs Nightmare again and pulls him right by his side as he opens his phone and scrolls through the movies.

Dust very quickly realises he deosn't really have movies without a high rating on his phone.Dust isn't even sure how far Nightmare's mind is at the moment.

Dust knows that Nightmare knows who they are. But Dust doens't know how old Nightmare is mentally at the moment. It isn't like Nightmare is sharing any of that information with them at the moment but Dust thinks he is at least a child again. He just also still has his adult form's memories and that is causing a bit of a disconnect.

Dust sighs and looks at Nightmare "Do you like horror movies?"

Nightmare shoots him a suspicious look before answering "I don't dislike them. They can be..." a frown as Ngihtmare thinks for a while before answering with some difficulty "interesting."

That was another thing that is slightly adorable. Nightmare is trying to still speak like he used to before but it seems that some of his knowledge has disappeared after regaining his true body.

Dust nods as he puts on the horror movie. It is one he thinks is okay even after seeing it four times. And only one of those four was because Dust had wanted to watch it.

He presses play and the movie starts.

Nightmare at first tries to keep his distance but it is a matter of time before he is focussed fully on the movie.

Dust grabs some food and eats it. He makes sure it push some towards Nightmare including one of the drinks.

The movie plays and they watch as some dude bro guy walks through the froest. Shouting about how he isn't scared and to come get him!

"... Why?"

Dust blinks and looks at Nightmare. Nightmare stares at him.

Dust looks back at his phone and the now paused movie "Why the guy is screaming? Mostly he is stupid?"

Nightmare frowns beofre looking away "No. I mean... Why.... this?"

Dust looks at the pizza and his phone "I just wanted to watch a movie?"

More frustration on Nightmare's face before he sighs. He then just looks back at the phone with a resigned expression. "okay."

Dust hates that. No. That isn't right. Nightmare doesn't give up and certainly doesn't give up getting answers to questions he has. Dust doesn't press play and looks at Nightmare "What why?"

Ngihtmare glances to the side. To all their things. "You don't... want to be here... with me. Why..."

Dust frowns "I told you? To make sure you don't escape."

More frustration on that tiny face and Ngihtmare looks away "it's not..." another sigh "whatever. When will you kill me?"

dead silence.

Dust turns sharply "What?!"

Nightmare shrugs "I figured... I wanne know."

Dust stares at Nightmare "What the hell? No we don't want you dead?! Why would we go out of our way to find you just to hurt and kill you?!"

Nightmare sits very still before shrugging again "it is the normal thing... normally."

The book. The fucking story. Fuck! He is a fucking idiot!

Nightmare is a child again! Nightmare is in the middle of his fucking trauma! To him the trauma happened days ago! Of course he thinks they would hurt him. That is what always happens.

How long has Nightmare thought that was the only reason anyone ever came to him? How long had a six year old have to fear the sound of someone approaching.

Dust looks away "We... aren't going to kill you... or hurt you." but... why would he beleive his words? Why would he believe anything any of them say after they arleady betrayed him once?

"okay."

It didn't sound like an okay in the way that he heard and believed what Dust said. it was an okay in the sense of a child being afraid to disagree.

Fuck.

Dust isn't sure how to... how to fix this mess. The mess he had partly created. He isn't even sure this can be fixed...

Dust glances back at him and speaks quieter "I mean it... we aren't going to hurt you. We don't want that." wait... he never... "I am sorry."

a long silence but he forces more out "we shouldn't have left. I shouldn't have left. I just... figured it wasn't my place anymore. I was wrong. I am sorry i left you." and it won't happen again.

Even just saying those things. Apologising. Dust feels lighter. It feels good. He needed Nightmare ot hear that Dust now realises.

Ngihtmare doens't say anything about it but does relax a tiny bit next to him. A very very fragile and tiny show of trust and Dust wants to grab it with both hands but he does't know how!

For now he turns the movie on again and makes sure the babybones is near him and eating and drinking.

Dust isn't even watching the movie anymore. He just listens out in case there is anyone who will try to hurt Nightmare or tempt this uneasy peace they have managed to create.

THe movie plays on and Dsut suddenly feels a weight against him. He turns and stares. Because Nightmare is asleep while leaning against him. Out like a light.

It doesn't even surprise Dust. As Dust doubts that Nightmare slept at all in this last week. Maybe even not before they took him with them.

Dust can't help but notice the very dark marks under those sockets. clear sighs of lack of sleep.

Dust moves slowly and carefully as he picks Nightmare up and puts him in his lap. Fuck he is freezing. Dust wraps his own hoody around him and it helps him relax.

He is safe. He is asleep. And while getting Ngihtmare to trust them again will be a long time and healing will be even longer... For now Dust is happy with his arms full of babybones.

-----

First drabble Prev drabble Next drabble

[6okuto]

"PICNIC DATE"

timeskip osamu x gn!reader | this one's cute. there's no actual picnic date though

a picnic date seemed like a perfect date idea for osamu.

he promised he’d handle the food, always happy to impress you with his cooking—not just onigiri, but a new recipe he’s been practicing to surprise you. he could imagine it: a warm sunday afternoon, the checkered blanket, him taking everything out of a picnic basket, the sun setting over the park’s hill and the air getting chillier, compelling you to cuddle up beside him.

so why, he wonders, are there storm clouds rolling in?

your head is tilted up, eyes narrowing at the grey skies. if there was one thing osamu was correct about, it was that the air would get colder. a wind pulls at the edge of the blanket underneath you and messes up his hair, sending shivers down his spine as it blows through his shirt.

“’samu, you checked the weather, right?”

“hon, ’course i did,” he defends himself quickly with a frown. “i swear i would’ve known if there was a storm coming.”

“okay, well, i don’t know how to tell you this, but i’m pretty sure there’s a storm coming.”

osamu groans, letting his head fall to rest on your shoulder. “don’t say that. we walked here.”

resting your head against his, you bring a hand up to rub his arm, both to comfort and keep him warm. “maybe it’ll go away?”

it doesn’t, of course.

there’s maybe a ten minute window where you both decide to pack up and get moving, speed walking back to your apartment, concluding you could just come back another day.

but then the rain starts.

and it comes down hard.

you wonder how movies manage to romanticize this.

the picnic basket hits osamu’s thigh as he runs, and the blanket quickly becomes drenched in your arms, not any different to your clothes as you become soaked to the bone.

rain slams onto the both of you in buckets, the pressure like hail because of the sheer amount. you bump into osamu as a gust of wind catches you off balance, and he uses his free arm to keep you up.

“samu—” you try to shout above the storm. your voice manages to get his attention, because he quickly grabs your arm to wrap around him and he lifts his jacket to cover your head as much as possible.

“samu,” you repeat yourself.

he moves closer so you can hear him. “you okay? y’want me to carry the blanket or anything?”

“i—” you cut yourself off, the rain still hammering down, and suddenly a muffled loudness pelting the jacket above you.

and you laugh.

to be honest, you don’t even know what you wanted to say before. maybe you called osamu’s name just to make sure his was there. thunder booms, and the rain hurts against your back and arms, and there’s so fucking much—”this fucking sucks!”

you trip over your own foot for a second, and start laughing even harder. “seriously, i can’t see shit! what the fuck?”

and your boyfriend who falters when you do, starts to laugh too. “we can—oh, fuck off—we can hide out in the convenience store, alright?”

osamu swears at the picnic basket repeatedly scraping against his arm—”why do they make picnic baskets such ass?”

his complaint alongside your laughter and running is keeping you out of breath, and all you can do in response is hold onto him a little tighter, laugh a little louder.

by the time you get to the convenience store, osamu’s certain he looks like a dog who just got thrown into a bathtub way too big for it, but “at least y’look as good as always.”

“oh, shut up,” you snort, breathing heavy and your hands on your knees.

“sorry for…this,” he apologizes to the person at the register. they shake their head and tell the both of you not to worry after you apologize too.

apparently aisle six has towels and clothes if either of you needed them, and the washroom had just been cleaned, though you were welcome to rest as long as you needed.

you both thank them, deciding to stay on the mats anyway until you were dry enough to not drip water everywhere you walked.

it's a lot quieter inside.

everything outside is muffled and you can finally hear yourself breathe. there’s an audible humming from the freezers, and the weather forecast plays on the television against the wall, warning everyone else about your first-hand experience.

osamu’s the first to speak, his voice defeated and quiet. “sorry this is how we spent our sunday afternoon.”

he’s pouting when you look over, and your chest tightens at the sight.

“it’s okay, ’samu. we can go home and still do something. there’s not a lot we can do about a thunderstorm,” you comfort him and wrap your arms around his waist.

drops of water fall from his hair and hit your skin as osamu hugs you back, pressing a kiss to your temple. he sways you from side to side, and you watch the rain slide down the store’s glass doors. “i dunno, i could still go fight the clouds.”

“yeah, i’m sure if you punch enough rain it’ll scare them away.”

“i am pretty scary.”

“your head has never looked flatter.”

“hey.” osamu pinches your waist and you jolt against him. the both of you snicker as you hit his hand and his hold around you tightens. you intertwine your fingers with his hand that pinched you with a smile. “i’m kidding.”

he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair anyway.

“i feel like i just got thrown into a washing machine,” you suddenly mutter.

your boyfriend hums. “at least there was no spinning?”

“oh yeah? us against a tornado next?”

osamu softly laughs at the thought of trying to outrun a tornado, or spinning in it alongside a house and cow as if you were a cartoon. “if we try to have a picnic again and a tornado hits, i’m gonna be mad.”

a laugh escapes you and you nod. “fair enough. no tornado, then.”

“no tornado.”

really, he doesn’t know what he’d do if that ever happened. but osamu thinks he could handle it.

he looks at you smiling despite how much he can feel you shivering and the fact that your lunch was inevitably ruined, and he thinks he'll be okay as long as he has you there, running and laughing with him until the storm was over.

happy birthday again 2 the twins. i write for tsumu more than samu so here i am ^___< (once again)

🏷️ | @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpink @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @chirikoheina @libbyistired @milkbreadforlife @itsukkie

[vodika-vibes]

omg I can absolutely request something for kix, literally I'll take anything i love him so much

i'm not too fussy but maybe something hurt/comfort vibes with non-established relationship? if that takes your fancy, can be sfw or nsfw however it works out

love your writing sm :)

Watching Over You

Summary: ou know that Kix is “dealing” with his new truth by not dealing with it, and you know it’s only a matter of time before he falls apart. You’ll be there for him, until he no longer needs you.

Pairing: Pre Pirate!Kix x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1113

Warnings: Kix is straight up not having a good time.

A/N: So, this could be seen as platonic or pre-romantic, but I'm happy with it, but that might just be because it's Kix. Anyway, I hope you like it!

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

“Alright, we’re all set,” You say as you step out of the shop while tugging your new gloves over your hands, “You sure you don’t need anything while we’re here?”

“From Nar Shaddaa?” Kix asks, as he tears his gaze away from a stall selling, probably stolen, speeders. “Hard pass. How do you know those are going to be any good?”

“Leather gloves are leather gloves, babe.” You counter as you hold your, now glove-covered, hands in front of your face, “They don’t need to be the best leather gloves in the galaxy, they just need to be able to protect my hands from the cold.”

Kix huffs, “You should let me run some blood tests. There’s no reason for you to be cold all of the time–”

“Hard pass, Doc.” You counter, “If I’m dying from some blood disease, I don’t want to know.”

Kix sighs again, and finally focuses his attention on you, “You’re impossible.”

“And yet still so adorable.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

“Thanks! I will.”

He shoots you a look, and you grin at him, “Come on, Kix. Let’s get out of here before the Hutts take offense at our presence.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He falls into step next to you, while you chatter his ear off about anything and everything that crosses your mind.

In the almost year that you’ve known, and traveled, with Kix, you’ve learned that he doesn’t like quiet. When there’s too much quiet he gets lost in his own mind, and starts spiraling.

And so, you fill the silence with stories, with mindless chatter, with music or movies or shows. Anything and everything you can do to make his suffering a little easier, you will do.

Honestly, you’ve never spoken so much in your life as you have in the past year.

You stop mid-sentence, when you glance to the side and realize that Kix is no longer walking with you. Quickly, you scan the crowd around you, and you quickly find him.

At first, you’re not sure what caught his attention, but as you approach him, you see what his gaze is locked on, and your heart sinks. He’s standing in front of an electronics store. An electronics store that has a massive holo showing a documentary about Darth Vader and his 501st.

Your jaw clenches and you slowly exhale, before you move to his side and wrap your arms around his arm, “Kix.” You keep your gaze on his face, on the pained, almost lost, expression that he wears when he’s lost in the past, “It’s time to go.”

He doesn’t react to your voice, but he also doesn’t stop you when you start tugging him away from the shop. And he doesn’t fight you when you walk him back to the spaceport and back to your ship.

In fact, in spite of your chatter, Kix is completely silent. 

He doesn’t say anything until you’re back on your ship. “Hey, can we wait a bit before we take off?”

You watch him for a moment, “Why?”

“I’d like a proper shower, and the water shower doesn’t work properly in space.” Kix replies.

“Mm, yeah. Okay.”

You pretend that you don’t notice him grabbing the portable holo as he heads into the fresher, and half an hour later, when you hear a quiet sob from the fresher, you turn on some music so he can have some privacy.

There’s no way for you to understand his grief.

Kix once had 2 million brothers…and now he’s alone in the galaxy. Only, he’s not alone, he has you, and he’ll continue to have you until he no longer needs you. And even then, you’ll stick around until he tells you to leave.

Personal loyalty to your friends has always been your fatal flaw, according to your old school teachers.

When he finally emerges from the fresher, his eyes are red and he looks exhausted. Bone deep exhausted.

You watch him for a moment, and then you sigh, “Kix,”

He glances at you, “I’m fine.”

“You’re not okay, Kix. And that’s okay.” You set the bowl that you were using to make some meatballs on the counter and walk over to him to take his hands in yours, “I...have given you your space, but maybe I shouldn’t have.”

“Listen, you don’t have to do this.”

You squeeze his hands, “Yes, I do. I…cannot even begin to understand the kind of loss that you suffered. I can’t. No one can. But you’re not alone in this.”

“My whole family is dead, cyare.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re alone.” You counter, “I will be here for you, for as long as you accept it. And probably longer.”

He stares at you, and then he sighs and drops his cheek on the top of your head while hooking his arms around your waist, “I don’t deserve you.”

“You’re wrong about that too, but I can be patient with you.”

The pair of you don’t say anything for a while, “What are you making?”

“Meatballs. We’re having pasta for dinner. With homemade noodles.”

“Huh. Have you made the dough yet?”

You smile at him, “Nope, I know you like that part. The ingredients are in the fridge.”

Later, as he’s kneading the dough while you sing along to the radio and form meatballs, he turns down the music and glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

“What’s up?” You ask, without looking at him.

“Can I sleep with you tonight? I don’t want to be alone.”

“Whatever you need, Kix. You just need to ask.” You reply, turning to look at him with a fond smile on your face.

He’s quiet for a moment, and then he sighs, “Also…?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think you can put me in contact with Luke Skywalker? I’d like to get to know him…and maybe share some stories about his dad.”

“Mm, I don’t know if I can get you in contact with Master Skywalker, but I can probably get you in contact with General Organa-Solo.” You reply lightly, “She might be able to get you in touch with Master Skywalker.”

“...thanks, cyare.”

“Like I said, Kix. Whatever you need. For however long you need it.”

The pair of you go back to your respective projects and as you finish forming the last meatball and pull your food prep gloves off, he reaches over and takes your hand in his, “Thank you.”

You grin at him and thread your fingers with his to give his hand a squeeze, “No worries, Kix. I’ll watch over you until you’re ready to look after yourself. And then I’ll keep doing it. That’s what I do.”

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[heybiji]

hi i found your page cause of your Masks art!!

imma be running a game of masks and was wondering if you have any tips

Oh hello! Very cool you're gonna run a MASKS game, it can be a lot of fun!

I'm not sure how helpful my advice will be since I'm still learning and am not sure how well I actually run the game haha, but for starters there's a whole lot of great advice on Reddit that will help with the mechanics and the structure of the game. In my opinion, the Principles section in the GM part of the core book is critical and succinct and is great advice for running ttrpgs in general.

my top advice is:

"We play to get the next issue picked up!"

Play the game like we want people to buy the next issue and not put the series down! Take chances! Make big choices! Make it interesting! Be bold!!

other things:

Theme. Establish the themes of your story early on. This will help you understand how the world and story should respond to the PCs. And make the themes interesting to you! For example, beyond the general coming-of-age story themes already built into the character arcs, I lean heavily into the concepts of fame, celebrity, and the 24-hour news cycle. And all the things that were going on in the early 2000s.

Be a Fan of the PCs. This is my favorite rule from The Principles. Make sure all your players soak this rule in. The MASKS mechanics mean characters will often make less-than-optimal decisions, so players must feel supported in their character choices. You should be a fan of the characters, and so should your players! They should want to help bring out every character's arc, not just their own.

Treating Human Life as Meaningful is what Makes Threats Real. This is another principle, but yeah, make the world's NPCs feel like they matter, and that will make the world worth protecting. Treat them as people. Give everyone Drives, not just your Villains. Mentally treating even non-villain NPCs as having Conditions can do a lot to help with characterization.

Condense. Condense your world, your NPCs, make the world feel smaller. In our game, for example, having the Protege's mentor also be the same superhero who saved the Delinquent years ago was a great decision.

Playlists. I have a bunch of different playlists for the campaign, from a big one of music of the time (our game is set in 2004) to playlists for important NPCs, to playlists I asked my players to curate for their characters. Music inspires me a bunch, a song can help create a villain for me, and I also like choosing a different "ending" song for every episode based on whatever happened.

Stories. Okay, here's the thing. I don't really care much for superhero stories. Why did I choose to run MASKS, you ask? Because of the emotion-based mechanics. That's my shit. But anyway, I don't take in much superhero media... But I do LOVE movies and television and stories in general, and I think taking in a lot of "short stories" is helpful to develop an instinct on how to pace a story, make a character or moment memorable, etc. And because MASKS has an episodic nature, this is extremely important! The sheer amount of movies I've watched has helped me a whole bunch, since they have to get the Beginning, Middle, and End done within such a short time frame.

Don't Wait. This is an instinct I've picked up from some of my favorite media. Don't wait for The big important moment. Make a lot of big important moments, and make the characters have to make a lot of important choices, and keep the momentum going. Paint yourself into a corner and then force yourself to think of ways out! It makes the story more interesting. (this may not apply to everyone, I get this kind of mindset from shows like Breaking Bad and Succession, which for your story could be too much haha)

Everyone Works. Okay, I am not a benevolent, sweet GM, I will not smile with tears in my eyes and quietly work away and accept that without complaint. no way. I make my players help me a lot. I'm gonna whine. Guys I'm doing so much work! Guys this is hard! Weeehhh! MAKE THEM HELP YOU. RUNNING A GAME IS SOOOOO MUCH WORK OH MY GOD IT'S SOOOOOO MUCH WORK!!! Ask them to take notes! Ask them to treat the world with sincerity! Ask them to make NPCs! Ask them to play NPCs! Ask them to help fill out the world! Ask them to tell you what their character wants to do next so you have extra time to consider it! Ask them to make playlists for their characters to help you figure out how to engage with them! Don't let them just show up on playday!! I'm a "you get what you give" kind of GM. You're a player too and you deserve to enjoy the game as well, and having the other players help you helps a BUNCH. PUT THEM TO WORK.

what else. uh. visuals help a lot with engagement so i subscribed to a bunch of modern battlemap patreons. i run using Foundry which lists the rules upon every roll which is great for me, someone with horrid memory. if you're lucky and favored by god, you'll have a benevolent player that will be the scribe for your sessions and log everything down so they can be referred back to (again, great for someone like me with a horrid memory). remember to give focus to the PC's out-of-costume lives as well. make NPCs in response to your PCs (superheroes, villains, touch on something of a PC in the creation process). be silly. be serious. be sincere.

i'm still figuring out how to run the game, maybe i'll have better advice on a later day, but i hope this can help some! sorry this is longwinded and more a stream of consciousness than it is succinct.

[its-time-to-write]

hello i have a request for an idea i literally cannot get out of my head: jamie and a partner who is really into knitting/crocheting and they knit him something as a gift and the fluffiness that ensues xxx

this was a v cute ask!! Here you go!

glitter on the floor

Knitting is a luxury, something you only do when you have a good chunk of time set aside. You’ll pull out a project while watching a movie and each time without fail, Jamie Tartt will give you puppy dog eyes and ask, “Is that for me?”

It never is.

That’s because you’ve been working on something for him for Christmas, and you’re pretty sure it’s your best work yet. 

You and Jamie are planning on having a tiny Christmas celebration, just the two of you, before he’s off to Manchester and you’re on a plane to your parents. You’re going to put on matching pajamas and sit by the Christmas tree and eat a shit-ton of snacks, because you’re both adults who can do what you want, and what you want to do is gorge yourselves on everything you definitely shouldn’t have.

So here you are, a week before Christmas, all cozy at home exchanging gifts and giggling about what comes after presents, which may may not be a variation of sexy Christmas that you stole from Keeley. 

“Open this one next,” you say, handing Jamie a particularly interesting package. 

You’re grinning, but there’s something sinister in your eyes. Jamie’s not sure what to make of it because it’s Christmas, or at least it almost is, so why are you looking at him like a cat that just ate the family goldfish?

He hesitantly takes the proffered package, perfectly wrapped in forest green with a bright white bow. He unwraps it carefully, sets the ribbon aside, and opens a box to reveal- 

A sweater. 

He exhales a little. Oh good, it’s just a sweater. But your eyes are still gleaming so he’s sure there’s more to it, especially because you’re practically vibrating from the effort of keeping yourself from laughing. 

Jamie pulls the sweater from the box and it unfolds, revealing the fact that it is a couple sizes too large for him. But you’ve obviously made it so he’s going to like it anyway. 

“Turn it around,” you say before he can give you his appreciation. Jamie complies, to reveal words stitched to the front in flowing script. 

this is our Get Along sweater

“Ask me what it’s for,” you command gleefully and Jamie’s pretty sure he’s never seen you this silly, so he bites. 

“Alright, what the fuck is this for?” he asks, matching your grin. 

You have to bite back a laugh. “Ok so remember how we talked about you being an only child? But I had siblings and our parents had to figure out creative ways to discipline us? One of the ways was a ‘get-along’ shirt. The two of us who were fighting had to wear the same shirt until we got over it. Sometimes it took like three or four hours. And one time, my mom managed to get three of us in one. It was hilarious.”

“Sounds like,” says Jamie. “Doubt you were in it very often. So is this for you and me, then?”

You sniff. “As if. Putting on clothes never solves our arguments. It’s for you and Roy.”

The words are barely out of your mouth before Jamie’s saying, “Fucking hell,” and you’re in stitches. 

“I already told Ted about it,” you manage to gasp out. “I’m really only showing it to you right now, because I’m dropping it off at Nelson Road as soon as the holiday is over.”

“Christ,” is all Jamie can come up with. His only consolation is that he can’t imagine how Ted could force him and Roy into this sweater. He might be more susceptible to caving, but Roy? No way. 

(In this moment, Jamie overlooks Roy’s fondness for you, as well as Ted’s extreme stubbornness when it comes to enforcing new policies he just made up.)

Ted sends you a photo of the sweater in action a week after they return.