#me when i try to hit a frog but it bounces just in time and hits me

[ashtonisvibing]

heket's boss fight constantly reminding me on how much i hate the yellow fleece

[fanaticsnail]

Hey! Hope you’re doing well this fine day~ I had a cute idea if u just wanna hear me rant about it.

So imagine teaching Killer a new pasta recipe whether that is a new sauce or new way to cook it and making it for him and watching him literally LIGHT UP with pure glee over how good it is. I say this as I’ve made my grandma’s spaghetti sauce which is STRAIGHT UP ADDICTING every time I make it and gobble it all up. Like the reader can be like a straw hat or kid pirate who is like hey I have this really yummy pasta recipe if you wanna try and afterwards she keeps on exchanging recipes with Killer and lowkey he in love with her mwahahaha (cause as they say in Princess and the Frog “the quickest way to a man’s heart, is through his stomach”). And she cooks it for him since he is always cooking 🥹🥹🥹

Also! I do have to add how much IM OBSESSED with the recent Hey Doc Drabble. Idk if you saw my tags but man I was GOING THROUGH IT. All the sweet nicknames and just the pure desperation for doc to be okay like 😭😭😭 and POOR HEAT AND BUBBLEGUM LIKE AWWWW I need a part 2 to that or SOMETHING just to see an aftermath if you will. Wire calling them “honey” had me WEAK.

Alright imma head out now, have a marvelous day/night 🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️

How did I miss this 😭. Thank you for your beautiful compliments on the 'Hey Doc' series. It's been an absolute joy to write. Reading through tags and reblogs are my favourite: especially when it's as enthusiastic as yours has been. You're so much fun, and I very much appreciate the time you take to read and go through my silly things. I can't write a full fic, but I hope this little drabble satiates the need of cooking with Killer 🖤.

Pasta

Masterlist Here

Word Count: mini-fic, just a little one.

Themes: Killer x reader, fluff, cooking, food, Killer is in awe, you are cooking, and I am hungry.

The one thing he hasn't managed to perfect is a pure, unadulterated Marinara. Anything to do with crushed tomato he finds too acidic, and over compensates with far too much salt to cut the tannins. He's tried everything: more onion, less herbs, malted brown sugar, refining his own salt by storing sea water on the oven, everything. He just can't seem to get it right.

Killer and pasta: his one weakness.

He would never admit it, but he has been attempting to perfect each recipe he comes upon. Pesto is all made from scratch: crushed fresh basil, the purest of virgin olive oils, a parmesan wheel with crispy salt crystals, oven toasted pine nuts, cloves of bulbed garlic, everything perfected by his skill in his kitchen. His pesto pasta is better than Sanji's, and the curly-browed chef is both impressed and intimidated by it.

Watching from a safe distance as you bounce gleefully within the dominion of the kitchen, he hunches his back and places his whiskered chin over his laced fingertips. He was unsure as to why you offered to cook for the crew, but your enthusiasm had him step aside to watch you work. It was the initial confession of homesickness that did it for him. Knowing food can aid in emotional regulation and comfort, he was more than happy to watch from his position sitting at the kitchen island.

And then the smell hit him.

The sweetness of roasting tomatoes, onion, garlic, and the herbal aromatics of thyme, rosemary and sage. The soft waft had his heart swell and beat in his chest and eyes twinkle in curiousity. Stirring the rotund vegetables in the pot and expertly crushing them with the blunt tip of the wooden spoon had him sit up attentively in his seat, watching you as you attend to the sauce from muscle memory alone.

He was in awe, perplexed, and intrigued.

Each time you would move on to another element of the dish, Killer would move a little closer. Each time your back was turned, he would perch himself just a little more towards the simmering pot. When you moved to the pantry to decide which shape of pasta to begin to boil, you could barely make out the shape of Killer's mask being partially elevated over his lips and nose by one large hand. Using a fresh spoon, he dips it into the sauce and puckers his purple-tinted lips and extends a breath of cool air to stifle the heat.

As soon as the first drops meet his tongue, he can't help the soft moan that escapes him at the flavor. Upon your return with a bag of penne in hand, you are immediately hoisted into the air with Killer's hands beneath your arms. Gently spinning you before placing you on the ground, he claps his arms over your shoulders and leans down closer. The purple hue of his lips is stretched up in a smile, his joy at your sauce immediately having him taken aback and fullfilled in the knowledge that he now has the answer he desperately seeks.

"Teach me. Please."

And who were you to deny him? It was a family recipe, and this crew aboard the Victoria Punk was your new family. Gently raising one of your hands to cup over his on your shoulder, you crinkle your nose at him and nod with a smile to match his own.

"Yes, chef."

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady

[terminallyworkingonit]

Getting my ass kicked by a frog in BG3

No but seriously, I have to explain what I experienced or i will never have closure. To set the scene, this is my first play-through and I’ve watched NO content about BG3 because I didn’t want spoilers in case I decided to get it.

I entered the evil swamp and was very cautious the whole way through because I know better than to assume a hag wouldn’t crop-dust the region with magical arsenic. When I saw the frog I was like “no way this is actually a frog. Probably is the monster that killed those three campers but just in disguise.”

Dialogue scene started when it spotted us, and I did a successful animal handling check. I thought “oh maybe this poor frog is just suffering from magical arsenic poisoning and I can get a little friend for Scratch.” Then the frog spat a baseball sized wad of poison on us and combat started. I saw the 5% chance to hit and was like WTF so I thought “ok, I’ll use AOE attacks and force it to make saves instead.” And I threw a bottle of alchemists fire at it.

THE BOTTLE BOUNCED BACK AND LIT US ALL ON FIRE IMMEDIATELY.

Ok, not a great start. I begin moving people out of it and I halved its health with Astarion’s bite because it has a guaranteed hit. I wasn’t sure why the bottle bounced back because that was the first time a throw failed for me, so I assumed that if you miss a throw then the enemy redirects it.

A couple missed melee strikes happen, and two sacred flames did nothing. Finally it’s Gale’s turn and I think “yeah ok, so magic missile always hits and I want this to be done. Plus I’m not throwing anything, so it won’t bounce back.”

ALL 3 MAGIC MISSILES BOUNCED BACK AND HIT GALE.

At this point my husband heard me say “THATS NOT HOW THAT WORKS” from across the house. I’m over here thinking this thing is a tarrasque in disguise the way it’s immune to magic missile.

Eventually I got a lucky stab from a 25% chance to hit (with advantage) and idk if I had nonlethal damage on or something, but the frog was just knocked out not dead. It was still ribbiting and it had stars swirling.

In a fit of rage and pettiness, I picked up the unconscious frog and threw it against a tree to try and finish it off.

THE FROG BOUNCED BACK AND HIT ME.

[twistofatale]

Twist of a tale chapter 2 part 4

Frisk: Ummm so a water guy, a small frog, a star walking, a literally being I don't even know that is holding coffee, and now a fire literally embodiement man. * uses act and selects *

Grillby 8 attack and 12 defense the Guy who is a bounty hunter seems to be strong. He has a strange power and a flamethrower. He seems to be serious

Grillby: I will capture you * Uses his flamethrower to hit Frisk *

Frisk: * Dodges *

Grillby: You move like a lighting bolt but it's classic for a human

Frisk: Umm what do I do? * Uses act and selects pun* This seems to be quite a flamey situation

Grillby: This is no time for jokes * Uses a fireball attack *

Frisk: * Dodges it *

Grillby: You seem to be dodging well that is a problem

Frisk: * Uses act and selects pun * You seem to need to CHILL out

Grillby: It's not that cold.

Grillby: * Uses a attack that cannot be dodged *

Frisk: * Gets in a corner and shivers *

Frisk: * Gets hit by a fireball and then....* Huh nothing happened

Frisk: * Soul turns orange *

Grillby: Behold my Orange attack Now you are gonna be in HEAT

Frisk:....

Frisk: * Uses act and selects check *

Grillby 8 attack 5 defense the person ready to face you with Heat soul magic

Frisk: * Looks at Grillby but something seem different * Why do I feel like it's 95 degrees and why could I see more of me?

Frisk: * Uses act but gets a little bit confused *...um * Uses npn

Frisk: What do you call a skeleton mean? A boney guy

Grillby: 😠

Frisk: 😕

Grillby: * Uses a fireball attack that comes from the east and burst from the west *

Frisk: * Dodges a bit but gets hit by 5 * 8/23 hp * Uses item and selects dog * 23/23

* A fireball circle comes as a healing attack *

Frisk: * Uses act and selects pnu * Why was the skeleton so mad. Because it was bone-tired of waiting so long

Grillby:....

💢

Grillby: * Uses a fireball that bounces back and forth everywhere *

Frisk: * Dodges but gets hit one time * 15/23 hp

Frisk: * Uses act and selects pndu * Why was the skeleton so RIBBED?

Grillby: 😡

Grillby: * Uses a fireball attack that is increased by size *

Frisk: * Dodges faster *

Frisk: That was big....* Uses act and selects nupppy * Why was the skeleton

so rude to the guy who wasn't able to lift up a lift the weight? The Skeleton said " He needed to put in some more BACKBONE that's all "

Grillby: That's it...

Grillby: * Gets distracted and gestures a lot at a pole *

Frisk: * Uses Mercy and flees * Bye bye

Grillby: COME OVER HERE

Grillby: * Chases Frisk *

Frisk: * Runs *

Grillby: * Starts flying *

Frisk: * Runs * Is he using his flamethrower....

Grillby: I WILL CAPTURE YOU

Grillby: * Uses his flamethrower to capture Frisk from getting to the other path *

Frisk: * Waits until the flames go away and goes threw it when it's gone * Bye

Frisk: * Runs fast *

Grillby: I JUST WANT MY G

Frisk: I don't have your G

Grillby: Your my G you have my bounty

Grillby: Stop being annoying

Grillby: Stop trying to escape- * Gets hit by a brick wall *

Grillby: * Falls down * Oooooooo :(

Frisk: * Turns back ....* Are you ok?

Grillby: oooooooo

Frisk: * Touches him *

Grillby seems to be knocked out

Frisk: Alright let's go * Goes to the other room *

Frisk: Well look at this

Look at the walls and tell how old it is?

Frisk: Heh * Reads some more *

Do you know how old this writing is. Exactly it has been old as the beginning of monsters arrived here

Frisk: * Reads more * Umm what is this?

Things about the begining of the Home...it was a very important place

[throatcoat]

//chapter 10// //the tv is on//

the smell of dog piss and old potted dirt stings my nose as i roll over closer to my sister. every lamp is at it's brightest and the television is on. my grandparents and cousin are sitting on the couch. they are watching the price is right and the volume is at 23, pops keeps turning it up because he can't hear any of the answers. it is almost midnight, and it is the night before my first day at this new school. that night would be spent on the stained carpet instead of a couch, the dogs needed a place to sit and we were taking up too much room.

i sigh and look at my sister, who is watching the t.v. flicker. she looks back at me and doesn't say a word. her expression says more than any words ever could- something that resembles discomfort and confusion. i turn on my back, close my eyes, hoping that sleep might overtake me even with all the distractions. i shiver from the screen door being wide open. there is a storm hitting, and for some reason that means my grandparents need to have every window open. like the sea salt would cleanse the filth or something. that corner of the room is the only space i am allowed to take up. the old quilt wrapped around me does nothing to block the mist that leaves my right arm soaked.

eyes closed, i am missing home. the home sick turns to real sick as the nausea rolls over me and i can feel the tears welling up. i will them not to come out, if they did, a whole ocean would be released from my eyes, from my concave chest where the heart is left drowning. yesterday would have been the first day at my old school, and i wondered if anyone noticed me missing, if anyone felt relief that my ghost was no longer haunting their hallways, making everyone else feel uncomfortable. i wondered what my two best friends talked about, if anyone got into a fist fight that day. there always seemed to be a fist fight on the first day. if i was there, i thought maybe it would be me raising my fists above me, hitting blindly.

i was lonely here, even surrounded by family. i felt more lonely than i did when my sister and i were the only two left in my childhood home, the night both my parents spent in jail for the first time. even now, i remember that night. we sat on our couch and shared a can of microwaved cream corn and tortilla chips and sweet tea. it was silent save for the sounds of the frogs and the crickets, the owls singing to us from our rooftop. somewhere, a coyote howled, and it reminded me of the way my sister howled in my aunt's car on the way to the hospital to see my mother before she was sent to county.

i thought about grabbing my cellphone from beneath my pillow, maybe sending the boy from vegas a text. i thought better of it, he would not reply anyways. the last time we spoke, he told me about how he got back into pills, something i had no idea he had struggled with prior. the last time we spoke, he was having religious delusions of the rapture, of the angels coming down to punish him, all of us, for the worldly sins we all commit. the last time i spoke to him it was two months before i was moving and i had not seen him once that summer. i gave up trying to contact him when he forgot about my birthday, and spent it fucking another girl instead.

we had never kissed, maybe held hands once. i was left confused by that, someone who spent hours preaching purity of oneself to me when he could go and do the very opposite? even worse was the thought that kept bouncing in my mind, that at seventeen, maybe i was too old for him. at the time, it did not horrify me, it was just a fact. now, i wonder what it is about 15 year olds that make adults ever even want to do more than simply protect their naivety.

i almost felt thankful that he stopped talking to me, as lonely as it was, everything else that was happening in my life felt even bigger. another doing exactly what many others in my life already had done did not seem as big to me as it should have. sometimes, when he would tell me he was killing himself, i almost felt a sick relief that i would never have to talk him down again. we broke up on my birthday as i sat in a red robins eating a sundae. i sent him a simple goodbye and i blocked him and even though that was one less person in my already dwindling village, i felt complete in a new way.

a new start, a new start, a new start. a mantra i kept repeating, hoping to convince myself the way it seemed to convince the rest of the family. i knew i was not going to get sleep that night. i rolled over, opened my eyes, and saw that my sister was sleeping now. her breathing slow, her eyes closed, and i hope she is dreaming of being a kid again. my grandparents went to bed finally by 4 a.m. and my eyes felt like they were bleeding once the lights finally went out.

my first day of school fell on a monday. my mom took us to goodwill two days prior to pick out some outfits, we could not afford anything else. the school supplies we used were the ones left over from last year, the free shit that the food bank gave my grandparents for my younger cousins. i crossed out patrick's name, a big x. underneath, i wrote my own and something about it did not look right. i waited outside the bathroom as alicia took forever. once i finally got to shower, now came the impossible act of trying to pull off something that might make people actually like me, or at least, how i looked.

my phone dinged with a message. my dad.

it's a new start, the text said, you get to be the cool new hot girl. good luck at big kid day care!

i laughed when i read that, i knew it was wishful thinking, that my dad was trying to make me feel better. i did not reply, instead i focused on the sweater i was pulling over my favorite shirt- one with all the x-men on front, old comic style. i cuffed my jeans and pulled my converse on. they were falling apart, but i refused to let go of them. they were the only thing i had left that reminded me of walking the desert highway just for an ice cold soda. i pulled a flannel over the sweater, the flannel my dad gave me back when i was twelve, it had been his prior. my hair was messy and i pulled on a beanie. looking in the mirror, i felt ugly. there was nothing i could do about it, though.

i met my sister and my cousins outside by the stop sign. i was not used to the sea mist yet, the way the mornings here were covered in damp cold fog that could choke you. i watched a doe and her fawn walk into the brush across the road as the bus barreled down. i missed my old bus, the one birdy drove. this new one did not say a word when we boarded.

i felt eyes on me as kids took in the two new faces joining them that year. no one said a word and i felt awkward, like maybe i should say something first. instead, i put in my ear buds and looked out the window. my sister slumped in the seat next to me, she looked tired. when we got to the school, we both walked into the office, hoping for some direction. instead, the secretary, a broad of a woman, looked at me and barked that the advisory lists were up in the cafeteria, we just had to find our names.

the problem was, the school did not have the right names. when my grandmother had registered us, she misspelled both our first names and wrote our last name as her own. i was mad about it, my last name was the last thing i currently had of my dad, of my identity and who i always was. i did not want to share a legal last name with them, with my mother. not only that, but we had not toured the school, and trying to find the classrooms felt impossible. everything about it felt overstimulating, all the new faces, the smells that were not familiar to me, how the school itself resembled a prison.

i finally found the classroom where my advisory class was being held and i walked in, sat down behind a few girls. they all turned and looked at me. they did not say a word. i could tell they were sizing me up.

"Tia says you look like a school shooter," was the first thing any of them said. it came from the mouth of a girl shorter than me with wide blue eyes and hair tips dyed pink. it made me angry. what made me look like a school shooter? i felt like my mask was never up in the first place, that the time i took in getting ready, hoping that maybe i would be the pretty and mysterious new girl did not matter. there was simply something about me, my face, that never looked right to anyone.

"well, I'm not."

no one else said another word as the teacher started calling out our names, stopping at mine, stuttering through the pronunciation. my cheeks burnt with embarrassment as i corrected them. "all you have to say is here" was the only reply. everyone laughed. i put my head down as the rest of roll call was happening, closing my eyes. if i tried hard enough, i could almost pretend i was back home and it was almost lunch time. my friends that i had my whole life would find me in the hallway after art and we would race to go get a slice of pizza.

the bell finally rang and as i gathered my stuff, the girl from earlier followed me. she offered to show me around, we were going to be friends she said. i did not know what to think of her outside of her having some of the biggest metaphorical balls of anyone i had met prior. i simply said, okay.

everything about this place was brand new and it left me confused, on the brink of a meltdown. nothing felt familiar, not even how the kids spoke. the lack of a twang was jarring to me, the way they laughed when i would say certain words, like i was a dumb hick. how they dressed, the lack of boots and wrangler jeans and bolo ties. the lack of camo and dip chew outlines. the school itself ran on a period system, and when i asked a teacher when the next block was, he laughed. you aren't from around here, are you? none of it made sense.

i felt more out of place here than i did in my hometown, and there i was the ultimate loser, but at least i had friends there, at least i found my ways to fit in, and at least sometimes, even the meanest kids would be kind. mostly, i just missed my friends. there was comfort in their permanence, how none of us never changed. i missed having people know me. here, i was simply just...weird. odd. out of place.

i spent that school day with ear buds in and refusing to say a word. right away, i knew this was going to be a worst place to be than even the toxic wasteland that my hometown had become. regardless of the way things ended, it still felt safer to me than anywhere else in the world.

mostly, i missed the things most that people in this new place despised about the east side over the mountain pass. i missed the way the apple orchards smelled in the morning, i missed the way dust settled into every crevice of my boots, i missed the roosters cawing in the morning and the way well water tasted. i missed the cows and the snapping turtles in the road. i missed the fire smoke and loud cattle train waking me up. i missed the way i could walk the entire town with my eyes closed, never missing a step, never tripping. i missed knowledge bowl practice and getting corn dogs at the junction. i missed the way the stars look at night when laying on the trampoline. i missed the canadian winter and the hot hell summer. i missed the way people pronounced my name correctly, the way it sounds with the thick drawl of kentucky ancestors seeking refuge in british columbia.

mostly though, i missed my dad.

i really missed my dad.

[jodjuya]

Okay! On my new game of Chrono Trigger (still my first ever playthrough) and I've caught up to where I was previously up to.

Liveblog from here on...

I knew Marle would be the 'queen' they found. Here's hoping I'm not Mr I'm-My-Own-Grandpa...

I wonder if Marle is the actual queen that went missing (and time-travelled herself to her future for Reasons), or is just the missing queen's doppleganger (descendant???)

Ayy, nice. Free naps in the Knights' barracks. No more paying innkeepers for me.

"but since the cathedral was built, no monsters have been seen there [the western woods]" oh hey does it smell like foreshadowing in here or is that just me?

Kitchen Maid: "So, you and Her Majesty the Queen are... acquainted?"

Crono:

Head Chef doesn't know what Her Majesty's request for "eyes cream" means. Hmm. Does this confirm that Marle is doing an identity theft, or confirm that the Queen time-travelled to get herself acquainted with ice-cream? 🤔🤔🤔

Getting big 'schemer' vibes from this chancellor...

Hmm, seems Marle is a mere doppleganger and not the actual queen?

Yep, not the Queen.

Ah geez my girlfriend exploded. And I'd just found her again too...

Time to bounce before someone accuses me of assassinating the 'Queen'

...four generations in 400 years?? Man, the queens in this country simply do not fuck

Guess we'll head to the cathedral to look for clues?? 🤔

I fucking knew these nuns were evil!!

I knew the Chancellor was a schemer! His identity had been stolen by Yakra! The King is in danger!!!

I stole some bromide? But it's not in my inventory? And also what is bromide? Must be valuable if I had to kill three guys to stop them from stopping me from stealing it... 🤔

These folks seem way too happy to be monster-captives. Probably just more dopplegangers I bet...

Bam! Called it!

Can't see how to get past spike floor...

Oh! Skull on wall is button!

Time to backtrack to those other spikes I saw earlier then...

So somewhere there's a shrine to the demon, which has some hidden treasure...

Man, Yakra is ugly. Time to fuck this guy up!

Whew, close fight. Fucked him up good tho.

Bah, no treasure to loot, only the Real Chancellor.

Hooray, Marle spontaneously de-exploded!

Man, this current-day Chancellor is a prick too. What an asshole.

Hah, the madlad actually followed through on creating "eyes cream" for the Queen. Good thing we're not sticking around to try it! 😝

Nyeh! See! I rescued that little girl's kitty! Good-guy behaviour!

Oops, shouldn't have eaten that guy's lunch.

Damn, 4-3. Crono is getting executed. This sucks. Any Chancellor I see in future I'm just going to cut down on sight. Fuck Chancellors. All my homies hate Chancellors!

Probably *shouldn't* be killing royal guards during my escape attempt, but they're not allowing me to run from the fight :/

Rescued a guy from the guillotine, climbed around on the outside of the prison towers and found a silver sword. This breakout is going great!

Invulnerable Dragon Tank unless some maniac runs at its head to hit it with a sword. Heh, my ears are burning...

(But fr, what kind of two-bit operation doesn't take away people's swords when it throws them into prison??)

Urgh. Died twice in a row to this stupid Dragon Tank. My first deaths in the game. I'm gunna kill that fucking Chancellor once I get past his stupid Death Machine. 😡

Made much more difficult by not being able to use items in battle for some reason.

Got it on the third try thankfully.

More time-travel will surely solve my problems!

Oh boy, The Future really isn't doing so hot, hey? I guess these guys couldn't stop the millennium bug in time or something 😬

Marle, how do you know what refrigeration is??? The height of technology to you is a crossbow...

Lucca, why are you looking up temporal distortions on the super-computer instead of disabling its security systems so the people here aren't in more danger??

(...uh, and steampunk robots and teleportation booths and magic spells and a guy who got turned into A Frog)

Oh, wait, Marle knows what ice-cream is. I guess she does know what a fridge is after all...

Huh, a volcano monster blew up the world? Not what I was expecting...

I don't know what a jetbike is but it sounds like it's going to be fun

Exploring the sewers instead of looking for a jetbike...

Nothing on the other side but a death mountain that's too windy to climb, and a Mysterious Old Man who says "don't climb that death mountain that's too windy to climb". At least I found a cool sword on my way over. That centaurpede in the sewer really fucked Crono up tho. Body-slammed him down to 1hp twice. 😬

Ah, so that's a jetbike. And I've gotta death-race it against a robot motorcycle whose name is literally "Bro"? Geez, no pressure...

[sunsandwolves]

The rest of Lord Tristan's entourage enjoyed her family's hospitality within Stormwind's walls, but Yelena? Yelena stared out at the golden swaying fields of Westfall, caught in the cool springtime moonlight.

Everything was where it was supposed to be, right where she left it. Peanut had been happily purring at her side, content with the snacks and extra cuddles. Penny, on the other hand, had fast begun to make herself back at home on Yelena's bed, sprawled, belly up, and snoring away.

You are going to walk home, step through that portal, and talk to your father.

That thought made her smirk. It wasn't 'our' father, but hers. Somehow, she always felt like she was in trouble to some degree. She was a grown woman in her own right, but now she felt like a toddler with her hands caught stuck in the cookie jar, awaiting a spanking from her parents.

She wasn't blatantly disregarding Tristan's advice. She was truly heeding the words of the Deaconess she spoke to; practicing. Feeling the ebb and flow, feeling the warmth in her chest. Mantras and prayers.

Though Yelena was stubborn enough to keep trying until her fingers bled or she collapsed from exhaustion.

He can think it a hindrance all he wants. This stubbornness will keep us alive one day.

Running her fingers through the soft black fur of her cat, Peanut chirped softly in response to the touch, and Yelena sighed.

"What a fucking disaster. But at least I have a bathtub -in- my bedroom this time." She hummed quietly, peeking over her shoulder to the bronze tub through the slightly ajar door to her washroom. Her jaw rocked as she thought further, scowling.

"I even mentioned I had news. It's not my fault that everyone fucking disappears like the wind in the middle of the night. I thought that was my job!" Yelena continued, throwing her hands above her head, dainty sleeves fluttering about in her upset.

"It wouldn't kill anyone to be supportive of the idea, instead of treating me like I'm just some stupid little girl.." She continued with a frown.

"Maybe Mama was right, too. Monsters and stupid children aren't deserving of the Light's graciousness." Her tone quieted as her back hit the wall, shoulders wilting as she thought. Growling, she rubbed both sides of her face in her hands.

"Fuck.. am I really letting some stupid fucking slavers get in my head?"

Was that a trauma response? Probably. Will she acknowledge it? Probably not.

"And Tristan.. what does he know. Don't even get me started on that asshole." Yelena hissed, waving a hand dismissively as she pushed herself off of her perch, bare feet hitting the wood floor as she began to pace. The object of her ire and ranting, the sleepy feline at her window that frog-blinked at her in hopes that Yelena would actually go the fuck to sleep.

"How can someone be decent to talk to and so fucking frustrating all in the same breath?! I don't get it! It's like talking to a brick wall! A brick walk that thinks you're an impulsive idiot that needs to learn her way around a sword lest she stab herself!" She growled, whirling around to face Penny again with folded arms.

"I know how to use a fucking sword. Swords, daggers, a shield in all practicality... ugh. Uuuggghhh...." She snarled, digging her hands into her hair in frustration.

"FUCK HIM." She barked, loud enough to cause Penny to startle awake. Peanut and Penny stared at Yelena in groggy disbelief, scattering when the rogue stomped over to her bed and flopped into it facefirst. Pillows bounced around the trio until Yelena snatched one to cuddle to her front and bury her face into another.

"Stupid fucking.. shit... assholes..." was muttered into down feathers while her pets found their places draped over lithe limbs. There there.

Pets were great therapists.

[rubysunnday]

reluctant caretaker

A/N: this is a very self indulgent fic, lol. it’s a comfort one for me right now

summary: having three younger siblings often meant Y/N was put in charge of looking after them. But sometimes her older siblings need some help too.

Aka, eight times Y/N did Anthony's job for him and one time he became her father

The trouble with having three younger siblings was that Y/N often got waylaid with looking after them and keeping them occupied. She didn't mind it - it was actually quite enjoyable to watch Hyacinth attack Gregory and to help Francesca with her pianoforte.

But sometimes, Y/N found herself becoming an older sibling to her own older siblings. When the weight of their responsibilities became too much, Y/N was there, like a rock that survives countless storms.

Hyacinth

Hyacinth and Y/N were two of the closest Bridgerton siblings in the entire household. They'd been close ever since Hyacinth's birth - the two becoming thick as thieves despite the years between them.

Hyacinth's beautiful, angelic face often helped Y/N escape the wrath of Anthony whenever Y/N snuck out the house and Y/N returned the favour by helping Hyacinth hide from the siblings she upset and by supporting her chaos.

It was a quiet day in the library and Y/N was minding her own business, organising the books and cleaning the room in general. The library had become a special place for her - her safety room,

“Y/N, hide me!” Hyacinth squeaked, skidding around the corner and running directly into Y/N’s legs.

“Wait, what?” Y/N asked, frowning, stumbling at the force of her little sister running into her. She grabbed

“Just, help me!” Hyacinth repeated, her eyes pleading.

“Hyacinth!” Anthony bellowed, his voice bouncing off the walls. Y/N could hear him marching up the stairs towards the library.

Y/N’s head shot up at the bellow and looked down at her little sister with wide eyes. “What did you do?”

“Please, I’ll tell you afterwards,” Hyacinth said, begging.

Y/N sighed and looked around for somewhere to hide Hyacinth. The library was big and didn’t have any decent hiding places. Y/N lifted her long dress up. 

“I swear, Hyacinth, you owe me,” she replied as Hyacinth crawled under the fabric, pulling it over her body. Y/N arranged her layers of skirt over her little sister and then pulled her shawl around too.

“Hyacinth!” Anthony bellowed again as he stormed into the room. He spotted Y/N organising the books and turned to her.  “Y/N, have you seen Hyacinth?”

Y/N shook her head and shrugged. “No, I have not. Sorry, brother.”

Anthony growled. “If you do, send her to me.”

“Why, what has she done?” Y/N asked innocently.

“She put a frog in my desk drawer,” Anthony snapped. “It’s hopping around the house, Colin is trying to catch it.”

Y/N tried not laugh, pressing her lips together. “Oh. Of course, if I see her, I shall send her to you.”

Anthony stormed off, out of the library. Y/N lifted her skirt up and narrowed her eyes down at Hyacinth.

“A frog, seriously?” She asked as Hyacinth crawled out.

“He took my book away,” Hyacinth replied, looking like an innocent angel.

Y/N rolled her eyes and shoved Hyacinth towards the door. “Shoo, I do not want to get in trouble with Anthony.”

Hyacinth rang off and Y/N resumed looking for her book. 

“Hyacinth!”

Y/N burst out laughing as she heard Anthony bellow at Hyacinth, his yell quickly followed by Hyacinth’s shriek and the sound of someone charging down the stairs. Y/N shook her head and smiled, laughing as she heard more yelling and shrieking from her sister.

Gregory

Y/N walked past Gregory’s room and glanced in as she passed. She paused and walked back, taking a look at Gregory and noticing him crying.

Y/N knocked on his door. “Gregory, what’s wrong?”

Gregory sniffed, wiping his eyes as he looked up at his big sister. “My mouse died,” he said softly, hiccuping.

Y/N’s eyes softened and she walked into her brother’s room, crouching down on the floor next to him and putting an arm around his shoulders.

“Oh, Greg, I am sorry, darling,” Y/N said, stroking his hair.

Gregory had found the mouse lurking in the kitchens one night and - despite the rest of the family telling him to get rid of it - Gregory had kept it, named it and given it a home.

And it had stayed in Gregory’s room for the past three months. Y/N had grown accustomed to checking in on the mouse whenever she went into her brother’s room and knew how closed he’d gotten to the rodent.

“Colin took him away,” Gregory whispered, more tears leaking out his eyes. “And I do not want to leave him but mother is insisting on everyone going to the party -”

“Hey, Gregory, calm down,” Y/N said gently. “We do not have to do anything with your mouse until you are ready. And I will stay by your side this entire party, alright?”

Gregory nodded and gave her a watery smile. “Thank you, sister.”

Y/N pressed a kiss to his head. “Always.” 

The floorboard outside Gregory’s room creaked and Y/N turned and looked to see who it was. Anthony stood outside the door, dressed in his waistcoat with his shirtsleeves rolled up, and gave her a smile, mouthing a thank you to Y/N. 

Y/N nodded and gave him a returning smile.

Francesca

Y/N eyed Colin. “Brother, that waistcoat is beginning to look a little snug.”

Colin let out a gasp and turned to face her. “How dare you!” He said, hand flying to his chest. “I was not going to say anything but your dresses are beginning to look a bit tight.”

Y/N gasped and whacked Colin’s arm, dodging the shove he aimed at her. “Colin!”

The front door slammed shut and Y/N looked up as Francesca stormed towards them.

“Hey, Franny,” Y/N greeted, smiling.

Francesca didn’t acknowledge her. She shoved past her and Colin and Y/N got a glimpse at her tear stained face as she ran past.

“Francesca!” Colin called, brow furrowing in concern at how upset his sister was.

“Leave me alone!” Francesca yelled, running up the stairs. A few moments later, her door slammed shut.

“Oh, I will go,” Y/N muttered, heading up the stairs after her sister. “Maybe run around the block and work off the bacon you ate at lunch.”

Colin gasped and let out a stuttered mess of insulted sounds as Y/N laughed and walked up the stairs.

Francesca had shut the door behind her but didn’t lock the door. Y/N knocked gently on the door but when she didn’t hear her sister reply, she opened the door and walked inside.

Francesca had dramatically flung herself face down on her bed and was quietly sobbing, her shoulders shaking.

“Oh, Franny,” Y/N said quietly, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to her sister and putting a hand on her back, rubbing it gently. 

Y/N had no idea what was wrong or what had happened to upset Francesca so much, but she didn’t need to know the specifics. Her sister was upset and needed her big sister on her side.

“Anthony is horrible,” Francesca sobbed. “He said such horrible things about the Earl of Kilmartin and he knows I like him, Y/N/N, he knows.”

Y/N sighed, stroking Francesca’s hair, twirling it around her finger. “Anthony is... well he is Anthony. He is very protective of us, Franny - he had to become a parental figure to all of us when he was barely an adult. I do not blame him for having his reservations about the Earl but know that anything Anthony says is... the majority of the time out of love.”

Francesca rolled over onto her side and looked up at her sister with teary eyes. “Can you talk to him?”

Y/N smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind Francesca’s ear. “Of course I can, my love. I shall tell him how ridiculous he is being and that you do not want to hear another word out of him until he can say something nice.”

Francesca giggled and sat up, hugging her sister tightly. “Thank you, sister. Truly.”

Y/N returned the hug. “Anything for you, Francesca.”

Eloise

Y/N concentrated on walking down the stairs, holding the hem of her dress up so that she didn’t trip over. She still wasn’t use to heels.

“You look like a newborn foal, Y/N,” Benedict called, eyeing her with a laugh as she gripped the bannister tightly.

“I detest these heels,” she muttered, taking Benedict’s offered hand and letting him guide her down the rest of the stairs.

“Do not let Eloise hear you say that, she will go off on a rant,” Benedict teased. 

It was if mentioning her twin sister’s name summoned her. Eloise suddenly burst out of Anthony’s office in a flurry of expensive silks and tears and ran past Y/N and Benedict. Both siblings stared after her, wincing when the door slammed loudly, shaking the walls.

“What is it with my siblings and running past me in tears?” Y/N asked, despairing. “This is the third time in as many weeks! What did you say, Anthony?” Y/N asked, turning to face her eldest brother with a hefty sigh.

“I merely mentioned her debut again and she got upset,” Anthony replied, shaking his head. “I shall talk to her.”

“No, do not even think about it,” Y/N said, halting Anthony by stepping in front of him. “You will make it worse. I shall go.”

“Wait, Y/N, I’ll come too,” Benedict called.

Y/N paused on the stairs and raised her eyebrows at him. She snorted. “Oh, this will be entertaining.”

Benedict gave her a confused look but shrugged, following after Y/N as she walked up the stairs and to Eloise’s room. Every time Eloise’s debut was brought up, she was bound to get upset or angry. It was the one subject that made her loose her judgement and her cool exterior.

Benedict knocked twice on Eloise’s door. “Eloise?”

“Go away, Benedict!” Eloise yelled and something hit the door with a hefty thud/

Benedict looked vaguely offended and took a step back from the door with a frown.

Y/N smiled to herself and chuckled. “That is exactly what I thought would happen,” she said, crossing her arms and looking up at her brother. “She thinks you’re going to gang up on her.”

“But I’m not going to.”

“Yes, but try telling that to an emotional teenager who’s big brother has upset her,” Y/N replied. “Go downstairs, I will be ten minutes.”

Benedict grumbled but trudged off down the corridor. Y/N waited for him to disappear and then gently knocked on Eloise’s bedroom door.

“El, it’s me,” Y/N called.

There was silence and then the door was unlocked and Eloise appeared, her eyes red. 

“How do you do it?” Eloise asked, sniffing.

Y/N frowned. “Do what?”

“Be perfect. Be the perfect daughter and sister all the time,” Eloise elaborated. “I cannot do it and it is so difficult to pretend.”

Y/N smiled at her. “I have been practicing for years, darling Eloise. It is all an act. I am not perfect and certainly not perfect all the time. I am merely perfect enough that mother and Anthony forget about my flaws.”

“How did you get through your debut?” Eloise asked and Y/N could see the genuine fear in her eyes. “How do you cope with all those people looking and watching.”

“For my debut, I relied on Colin,” Y/N replied honestly. “He never left my side unless I was absolutely certain I could manage on my own. Unlike Anthony, there was no judgement or constant interrogation of the suitors. He just listened to me. And after a while, the constant watching and looking does not bother you. It becomes background noise.”

Eloise dropped her head onto the edge of her door and closed her eyes. “I have hardly even begun and I am already exhausted.”

“I know.”

Y/N reached out her hand and grabbed her twin sister’s. Eloise squeezed her hand in return and gave her a tired smile. 

“But I will be with you every step of the way, sister,” Y/N promised.

Daphne

Daphne and Y/N had never been particularly close. They were complete opposites growing up - much like Eloise and Daphne were now - and were constantly arguing with one another. But ultimately, they did love each other.

As Y/N grew up, she looked to Daphne for help and guidance and her sister had provide it. But Y/N could tell that her sister was struggling. With her new life as a duchess, as a mother and as a wife.

“Daphne.”

“Yes, Y/N?”

The two were enjoying afternoon tea in the sprawling garden of Hastings House, watching the swans in the lake nearby.

“Are you alright?”

Daphne set her tea down and looked at Y/N. Y/N reached out a hand across the table and gripped Daphne’s, rubbing her thumb over the back of it and giving her a smile.

And that was all it took for Daphne to break down crying at the little table they sat at.

Y/N moved her chair to sit next to her sister and put her arms around her, comforting her as she cried. She didn’t have a clear idea of what Daphne was going through - being a mother was hard in its own right. But Daphne was also running an estate, being a duchess and also trying to navigate high society.

“You know, I am not a mother - or a duchess, for that fact - but what I do know is that I do not know anyone who is stronger than you, Daph. Mother does not count,” Y/N added quickly, noticing Daphne lifting her head up to object.

Daphne gave her sister a watery, emotion filled smile and sat up, taking a deep breath in. “Thank you, sister.”

Y/N smiled, picking her cup of tea up again. “You are welcome. Now, do we have anymore of those biscuits?”

Colin

Y/N was having deja vu. 

What was it with her siblings and locking themselves in their rooms whilst crying? 

“Someone should go talk to Colin,” Anthony said quietly, setting his newspaper down.

There was an obvious empty space at the breakfast table in between Benedict and Y/N where Colin usually sat. Ever since the Marina incident, Colin had hardly spoken or come out of his room. Wisely, no one had said anything about it. Violet was engrossed in Lady Whistledown, Hyacinth and Gregory were, for once, behaving themselves, and Eloise was quietly cutting her pear up into thin silces.

“He won’t listen to me,” Benedict replied quickly, taking a bite of his toast.

“I am the last person he will want to speak to,” Anthony added, sighing.

The two older brothers both turned to look at Y/N.

Y/N, who was mid bite of her apple, turned to look at them. “What?”

“Well, you are good with crying siblings,” Anthony began.

“Only because you are normally the one who has upset them,” Y/N countered, turning back to her breakfast, 

Anthony raised his eyebrows. “Y/N.”

“Oh, fine,” Y/N grumbled, shoving her chair back loudly. “I should really be getting paid for this, honestly.”

Colin’s room was next door to Y/N’s. She paused outside it and sighed. 

“This is deja vu,” Y/ muttered, raising a hand, knocking hard on the door. “Colin?”

Colin didn’t reply. Y/N dropped her head on the door and sighed. She grabbed the handle and twisted it, hoping it was open. It swung open with a creak and Y/N poked her head around the wood.

Colin was lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with red eyes. He lifted his head and looked at her.

“Hi,” Y/N said quietly, closing the door behind herself and walking further into the room. “You left me on my own at breakfast.”

“Sorry,” Colin muttered.

Y/N walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, nudging Colin to move further over to let her lie down next to him. Colin shuffled over and Y/N laid down next to him, not caring that she was crinkling her dress or ruining her hair.

Colin didn’t talk. Y/N wasn’t expecting him to. But she also wasn’t expecting him to lift his arm up and wrap it around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. Y/N let out a surprised noise but returned the hug, wrapping her arms around his side as best she could.

“Just so you know, they all practically drew straws as to who would come and talk to you,” Y/N said, her voice muffled by Colin’s waistcoat.

“Well, you are an expert now,” Colin replied, his voice a little croaky. “Four siblings now?”

“Do not even get me started, Colin,” Y/N replied, laughing softly. “When I eventually have an emotional break and lock myself in my room, you all better take it in bloody turns.”

Colin laughed, hitting her shoulder as she swore. His laughter faded and he tightened his arms around her but Y/N didn’t mind. It was often the two of them had a moment just them with no one watching or staring.

“Listen, if you come to breakfast I will not throw my orange peel at you,” Y/N said, lifting her head up. “I will happily give you the bits of my bacon that I do not like.”

“Will you give me your extra sausage?” Colin asked.

“I will give you all of my bacon if you give me a sausage,” Y/N countered.

Colin unwrapped his arm from around Y/N’s shoulders and held his hand out to her. “The deal is the deal.”

Y/N snorted. “You did not just quote my favourite book at me,” Y/N said, widening her eyes. 

Colin shrugged but his eyes were twinkling for the first time in a few days. Y/N giggled and dropped her head on to a pillow.

“I hate you,” Y/N groaned.

“No you do not,” Colin replied, all but shoving Y/N off his bed. “Now, you have promised me your bacon.”

Benedict

Y/N looked up as another ball of paper whizzed past her head, missing the bin and landing behind it. The bin was beginning to disappear underneath the numerous scrunched up balls of paper. Y/N wisely didn’t say anything, turning back to her book.

Benedict growled, ripping another piece of paper out his sketchbook and launched it at the bin. It missed the bin entirely and smacked Y/N in the head, landing in her lap.

“Sorry,” Benedict called.

Y/N raised her eyebrows at him but said nothing. She picked up the ball of paper and opened it, smoothing it out against the front of her book. “What’s wrong with this?”

Benedict looked up. “The shading is all wrong, the body looks weird...” Benedict sighed and ripped another piece of paper out. He threw it at the bin but it hit Y/N again.

“Alright, do I need to move or are you going to stop hitting me with balls of paper?” Y/N asked, closing her book and raising her eyebrows. “I can move the bin closer.”

“Sorry,” Benedict sighed, closing his eyes and dropping his head back.

Y/N looked at her brother. She unfolded her legs and stood up, walking up to him. She took the sketchbook from his hands and flipped through it.

“What is wrong with these?” Y/N asked, frowning as she perched herself on the arm of the chair her brother was sat in, leaning on his shoulder. 

“They do not look... right.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows. “Why?”

“The angle is weird -”

“Then move the object or move yourself,” Y/N said simply. 

“It isn’t just that,” Benedict said. “Every drawing I do I find myself comparing it to other works of art.”

“But they’re not your style,” Y/N replied. “You cannot compare a Van Gogh to a Holbein because they are completely different styles. You just have to find your own style, Benedict.”

“When did you get so wise?” Benedict asked, looking up at her with genuine admiration and curiosity. 

“Oh, I think it is due to the constant pep talks I have to keep giving my siblings,” Y/N said, smiling, pretending to ruffle her imaginary feathers.

Benedict smiled. He nodded to the chair opposite him. “Go sit over there.”

“Why?”

“Just sit over there,” Benedict insisted, shoving her off the arm of the chair.

Y/N sat down on the chair and frowned at him. “Are you going to draw me?!”

“Well, you said move the object.”

“Wait, you were drawing me?!” Y/N exclaimed.

“Hush, you,” Benedict called, pressing a finger to his lips. “I am concentrating.”

Y/N giggled but didn’t move, just smoothed her skirt out and picked up her book again.

Anthony

“Y/N!”

Y/N looked up with a frown, trying to work out if she had heard her name or not. Deciding she hadn’t, Y/N returned to the pianoforte, plonking the keys with no real intention. 

“Y/N!”

Anthony stormed into the room and came to a sudden halt as he spotted Y/N sat at the pianoforte. “Y/N, did you not hear me yelling?”

Y/N frowned and looked up. “Did you yell for me?” She asked.

“Yes!” Anthony exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “How did you not hear me?” Y/N looked pointedly at the pianoforte. “Yes, alright, point made, now come with me.”

Anthony turned on his heel and marched off. Y/N quickly stood up, almost tripping over the leg of the stool as she ran after her brother.

“Anthony, slow down a moment!” Y/N called, barely keeping up with her older brother’s long legs. “Anthony!”

Y/N ran down the stairs, somehow skipping the last three, and following Anthony into his office. He stopped suddenly in the doorway and turned to face Y/N.

Y/N, who hadn’t lost the momentum she’d gained running down the stairs, ran full pelt into her brother’s chest and squeaked as she lost her balance.

“Carefully!” Anthony exclaimed, grabbing her arms and holding her up.

“You are the one who stopped!” Y/N yelled back. “What on earth is the matter?” 

Anthony sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, there is just an awful lot happening, I did not mean to panic you.”

“Anthony, just take a minute to breathe,” Y/N said. “What do you need me for?”

“We have been invited to the Queen’s garden party, and I wanted to know if you were interested in coming,” Anthony said, turning and walking up to his desk. He pulled out the invite from amongst the rest of his paperwork and handed it to her.

Y/N ran her eyes over it and shrugged with a nod. “Yes, I suppose.”

Anthony nodded but Y/N could see that he wasn’t paying her any attention. Y/N sat down in front of his desk.

“Anthony, what is wrong?” Y/N asked softly, nudging his foot with hers when he didn’t reply. “Anthony?”

“There is just a lot going on with the estates, the land, your debut, Eloise’s debut, Benedict and Colin.” Anthony sighed and dropped his head. “I do not know how father managed it all.”

“Well, in all fairness, Anthony, our father was raised and taught how to do it. He had years of practice you were not even out of Eaton when you had to take over,” Y/N replied, folding her hands into her lap. “All of this stress is understandable, brother.”

Anthony looked at his sister with a wistful gaze. “When did you get to be so wise?”

“That is exactly what Benedict said the other day,” Y/N replied, smiling. “And all I did was tell him to stop throwing paper at me.”

Anthony chuckled. He stepped around his desk and came over to Y/N, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Oh, what would we do without you, Y/N?”

“Well, I would imagine that the house would be on fire by now and Eloise would have ran off to anywhere else in the country,” Y/N replied, smirking.

Anthony shoved her gently and Y/N giggled, resting her head on his arm. 

Y/N

Her hands were shaking. She could feel the panic overwhelming her like a tidal wave and her stays felt suffocating even though Y/N knew they weren’t tight.

All she had to do was get through tonight and then everything, should be, fine. All she had to do was get through her first ball and then everything would get better. 

Y/N felt her eyes begin to sting and her throat close and took a shaky deep breath in as she looked at herself in the mirror. She looked like herself but also didn’t look like herself. An imitation of herself looked back at her.

She had never been this nervous before. It was unusual for her to be this panicked and scared before a big event. Y/N let out a little sob and sank down into her chair, burying her face in her hands to try and control her emotion.

Someone knocked on her door and Y/N quickly tried to make herself look presentable and not like she’d been crying. 

“Y/N, come on,” Anthony called, walking in, the floorboards creaking under his feet, “we are all waiting.”

“I will be down in a second,” Y/N called, frantically trying to touch up her make up. 

Anthony walked around the corner and stopped. He knew Y/N and could see when she was putting a mask on and pretending. He could see her red eyes, her shaking hands, and instantly knew something was wrong.

“Y/N, what is wrong?” Anthony asked softly, slowly approaching her.

Y/N turned and looked at her brother over her shoulder. He gave her a soft, comforting smile, and she instantly broke down, her shoulders shaking and her hands hiding her face.

Anthony rushed over and knelt down in front of her, wrapping his arms around her and bringing her into his chest as she sobbed. 

“Alright, calm down, you’re ok,” Anthony whispered, rubbing circles on her back.

“I don’t think I can do this, Anthony,” Y/N sobbed, clinging onto him tightly. “I don’t know if I can be perfect like Daphne was.”

“You do not have to be perfect,” Anthony said, taking her face between his hands and making her look at him. “You just have to be you. And we will be with you every step of the way.”

Y/N nodded and sighed tiredly. She took a deep breath in and straightened up as Anthony wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“Ready?” Anthony asked, standing up and offering her a hand.

“As I will ever be,” Y/N replied with a smile, taking his hand.

[kuroos-babie]

falling in love with a single mom hcs

INCLUDES: nishinoya, tsukishima, yaku

you spent a good part of your childhood with nishinoya, chasing away the dogs that had a penchant of scaring your best friend shitless, climbing trees and playing treasure hunt

it was funny, to say the least, seeing how he grew from such a scaredy-cat to the energetic and confident noya everyone knows

throughout highschool you watched him chase girl after girl and he watched you turn down guy after guy

the dynamic you two had was that of a feral gremlin child and its chill owner holding the leash and everyone, including you two, thought you would always be together

everyday was fun with nishinoya's energy hanging around you, no doubt

but when he asked you to travel the world with him right after graduation, he was met with a hesitant refusal

"i'm planning to go to college, yuu"

"it'll be fun, y/n! like going on an adventure!!"

"visit me once in a while"

his heart clenched at the way you smiled at him with teary eyes, "i can't change your mind can i?"

with a soft shake of your head, he sighed

he leaves in three days

the first few months of him being away were filled with calls and pictures of his trips, smile seemingly wider and brighter than before and a part of you regretted not coming with him

but college starts in a week, and with that came missed calls and ignored messages

at some point, neither of you just remembered to hit the other up, caught up with the stresses of your own life and before either of you knew it, 5 years have passed

he came to visit home for the first time in years, no longer the boyish noya you knew but he still had that warm aura around him

you were the first thought to come to mind the moment he step foot in town, his whole body buzzing with excitement at the mere thought of seeing you again

so of course he went straight to your house, feet taking step after memorized step and hands clutching bags of things he got from his travels

"Y/N!!!!!", he calls out as he enters your house which was answered with a harsh shushing

turning a corner he saw you in the living room, lovely as ever-- he thought, and with a baby sleeping soundly in your arms, "the baby's sleeping, yuu"

"whose...?"

you laughed at the cracking in his voice, "mine, who else's?"

man, he looked like he was about to cry

he quietly approached you, careful as to not wake the baby

"for you", he mumbled while handing you the bag of snacks and stuff

the room was filled with silence after you hummed a short thanks

he was looking at the child's face, it looked like you, he thinks

he asked when you got married, "you didn't tell me, didn't even invite your best friend to your wedding", he whined

"i didn't, i'm not married"

his eyes were wide as they looked at you

you told him about getting pregnant shortly after college graduation and getting ditched

he thought of himself selfish as he heaved a sigh of relief

"it's fine though, my parents are helping me a lot", he notes how you looked at your baby with such fond eyes and his heart swelled, he felt like crying

you chuckled at the look on his face, "hey don't look so sorry for me, can't be happier to have her"

"what's her name?"

you looked at your daughter's face and pet at her cheek with a finger, "yui"

nishinoya couldn't hold it in anymore and so he let himself cry and pulled you close

and for the nth time since the day of your college graduation he asked you again, "come with me, y/n, let's travel the world" but you have a child "i'll stay with you here until she's old enough", he said while kissing the tears that slipped down your cheeks

"then we can all go travel the world together"

he liked working at the museum, he really does

at least that's what he tries to tell himself as he led the group of preschoolers through the sendai museum

they were cute, yeah, but also very chatty

especially this one little boy with the frog hat

"what's this called?"

"it's a fossilized remain of--"

"how about this one?"

"it's--", and before he could answer, the child was already running to the other side of the exhibit

he just sighs

the tour ended and he was getting ready for his lunch break, proceeding to the cafe by the entrance as he always does

his eyes almost caught the flurry of green that passed beside him but he chose to ignore it

but of course it wasn't long after he sat down with his order when he heard a familiar bubbly voice

"mama that's the dinosaur guy!", he heard the little boy whisper loudly, "he's so tall, like a brachiosaurus!"

he couldn't supress the chuckle at the child's remark and he turned in his seat, "so you were listening, i thought you were just bouncing all around the place"

"oh sorry, did he give you a hard time?"

your voice drew his attention and he smiled at the sight of your worried face, something that surprised even him, "not really, no"

he invited you two to sit and eat with him and he listened to your son ramble all about dinosaurs and prehistoric animals

"a smart one, i like him"

your son really liked him too and asked you to take him to the museum again and see tsukishima

and so it became a habit for you to visit the museum every friday with the little boy, waiting for the tall blonde to get off work so you three could grab something to eat

and every time he sees you in the little cafe by the entrancne with your son, tsukishima couldn't help but smile a little and pat at his chest to calm the subtle fluttering as he push the door open

it was a weird feeling he never knew would come so naturally at the mere sight of you two

he bought your son picture books and and figurines and copies of the "walking with dinosaurs" documentary

"we should watch it this weekend..." his eyebrows shot up for a moment at your meek suggestion

of course the little boy was elated, excited to have him over at your house "yes! let's go now! i wanna watch it with tsukki now!!!"

tsukishima returned his gaze on you, "if it's not too much trouble then i'd love to go now"

and so the rest of the friday night was spent on your couch with all the lights turned off and a narration of al the allosaurus' life

you looked over at the other side of the couch to see your son laying on tsukishima, eyes fluttering shut with the man passed out and lightly snoring

he must've been tired

you draped a blanket over the two of them and waited for sleep to visit you too and it soon did

morning came and you woke up to the smell of coffee

"i borrowed your coffee maker, i hope you don't mind", his voice was still low, trying not to wake the little boy

"yeah, sorry i didn't wake you up last night... you looked tired"

he chuckled as you walked over to the kitchen to take out two mugs and prepared some toast, "i don't mind, it was the best sleep i've gotten in a while. i hope it wasn't too much of a bother for you though"

you leaned on the kitchen counter as you took in his appearance; hair ruffled and eyes puffy with sleep, "i don't mind it one bit"

he huffed a laugh and looked over to the sofa where your son still laid

"he likes you a lot"

"so it seems, i hope you do too", his face was smug but you didn't miss the red that tinted his cheeks when you told him "of course i do, in fact i was thinking maybe we should do this more often"

his smirk grew, "just say you want to wake up everyday to the sight of me and leave it at that"

you rolled your eyes at his comment but smiled nonetheless, "oh shut up"

he had just come back from the nekoma volleyball team reunion, head lightly buzzing from the few bottles of alcohol kuroo forced down his throat

making his way through the carpeted hotel hall, he could barely make out the sound of little feet hurriedly padding on the floor and quiet sniffles

taking out the keycard to his room with the blissful thoughts of finally sinking into the soft mattress was interrupted by a soft bump on his thigh, a muffled thud and a small "ow..."

it took a few moments before the sight of the little boy on the hotel floor registered properly in his brain

it was well past 2 am... why the hell is there a child running around the halls

"uh... hi?"

big bright eyes looked up at him and he can't help but sigh at the sniffles increasingly growing louder

"where's your mama, little guy?", yaku crouched to the little boy's level, careful to keep his balance as the booze and exhaustion was catching up to him

however, at the mention of his mother, the little boy's eye filled up with more tears and was ready to burst anytime, "mama..."

"oh no no no no"

yaku's too tired for this

so with a sigh and a groan, he took the boy in his arms and entered his room

"let's look for her in the morning, okay? i think i still have some cookies in my room, would like some?"

the little boy nods his head, earning a relieved sigh from yaku

the rest of the night was spent with cartoons playing on the large hotel room tv, yaku leaning against the headboard with the little boy snoozing away while being tucked in his arm, cookie on his hand and crumbs all around

morning came and panic surged through your body the moment you realized your 3 year-old son was nowhere inside your hotel room

your hurried to the security desk to report and hopefully make an announcement, head reeling and aching with the sudden rush of adrenaline first thing in the morning

with your head in your hands, you let out a groan while trying not to cry at all the possibilites flashing through your mind

your wallowing was cut short with an "excuse me, i found this child last night"

turning your head back to the security desk, you see a man in his pajamas and slippers, hair ruffled from sleep and a sleepy little boy laying on his shoulder

"oh my god"

the whole conlict ended when you came up to them and introduced yourself, the little boy quickly recognizing your voice and whipped his head over to you, "mama!"

your son reached out for you and yaku couldn't help but notice how pretty your glossy eyes were despite how disheveled you looked

"mama, yakkun gave me cookies and we watched cartoons aaaaall night!"

yaku's eyes widened at the little boy's words and let out a nervous chuckle, "you make me sound so suspicious"

he turned to you and explained how your son bumped into him at 2 am and he was just too tired to bring him down to the security desk

"my tired tipsy brain thought it was a better idea to just let him sleep in my room and look for mama in the morning", he ended with the tips of his ears tinged red

you laughed at his nervousness, "well we can talk more about it over breakfast, what do you say yakkun? my treat"

with the way you were smiling at him, how could he even refuse?

the rest of the morning was spent with coffee and waffles, juice and fruits and chatter

he learned you and your son were in town for a few days, "i wanted to go see the fishies in the aquarium!", the little boy quips

with the new volleyball season just around the corner, yaku knew he'd have practices but he offered to tour you two around tokyo

he wanted to see you two again

briefly taking care of the toddler last night and having breakfast with you, he realized, were very much a welcomed change of pace in his hectic pro volleyball life

"are you my dad? mama told me daddy was working in tokyo" he remembered your son quietly mumbling last night, "i haven't seen him though, not ever"

the rest of your stay in tokyo was spent hanging out with yaku, your son growing more and more attached to him and slept over at his room every night

as promised, he took you and your son on a tokyo tour and even brought you to practice, introducing you to the national team and teaching your child receives

of course your trip eventually reached its end, promises of meeting again drowned in the little boy's tears as he tried to reach out to yaku

"we'll meet again, little guy", he says while ruffling the boy's hair, "i'll even go visit you and we'll play lots, okay?

of course he made a point of contacting you frequently, often video chatting during meal times and bedtime and a few more hours after, relishing in the time he could spend talking alone with you

"i can't wait to see you two again", he always says right after "good night"

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[subspencer]

Neighborly Favors

baby!spencer x fem!reader

based on this request from @spencergubler

spencer discovers what his neighbor does for a living, and she offers to give him a show EDIT: i realized after posting i switch from using third person/‘she’ to second person/‘you’ halfway through. my excuse is i was sleep deprived. hope you can overlook the error!

wc: 2.3k. cw: none

He's only ever seen his neighbor in passing, catching the flash of her coat as she enters her apartment while he's leaving his, or seeing the top of her head as she's walking by on the street when he looks down from his window. Most people don't take enough interest in their neighbors to care to get to know them, and normally Spencer wouldn't care either. Except this neighbor plays some pretty interesting music, which he can hear through the thin walls connecting their apartments.

He's not exactly sure what she's doing when she's playing her music loudly, but it doesn't sound like she's with anyone. And not that he's trying to invade her privacy, but he also doesn't hear anything happening that's remotely as sexual as what the music is. It kind of sounds like she's working out? He's not sure.

What little information he has on her only inspires his mind to think of her more often. To solve the mystery of his next-door neighbor, who comes home just as he's leaving for work, who he thinks always looks pretty despite never having seen her face.

Unfortunately, his sweet, innocent mind doesn't consider what most would think is the obvious answer. He has to find that out himself after he finally sees her, properly, in the hallway, trying to break into own apartment by picking the lock.

"Are you locked out?" He manages to speak calmly even though his mind is racing looking at her. She has on a short coat that stops just above her knees, and a pair of heels that look incredibly tall. All he he sees between are long, bare legs.

"Yeah.” She sighed, dropping the bobby pin she jammed into the lock. “Can I wait in yours until the maintenance guy comes?"

And he has no idea how he doesn't just pick up his feet and start running, but he actually lets her in, and now it's just the two of them sitting on his couch, multiple feet apart as they try to find conversation to fill the awkward silence.

"So... what do you do for work?"

"I'm a dancer."

"Oh... like ballet or-"

She looks at him like he's grown a second head and laughs, "I'm an exotic dancer."

"Oh."

He folds his hands in his lap and is suddenly extremely red. From the embarrassment of looking stupid in front of her, for one. And a bit because now he's thinking about her, in those exact high heels she has on, dancing in a dark room.

"These aren't the shoes I wear for that."

His head snaps up at her, terrified he’d said those thoughts out loud. He must not have realized he'd been staring down at her shoes for a moment too long, and that given her profession, she can tell when a guy's looking at her a certain way. Lucky for him, she finds his bashful innocence to be endearingly cute.

"They're a lot taller than this. I just wear these to get to and from work. You can see them sometime," she shrugs. Too coolly offering to show Spencer what she looks like when she dances.

He really doesn't know what to say, it probably should not have been what he ended up saying, "So the music from your place then?" He blinks at her, hands holding his knees so he has something to do with them. When she doesn't answer right away, he offers his signature frog smile, feeling incredibly awkward still.

"Sorry, didn't realize it was so loud." She looks genuinely apologetic, and it makes him feel bad for saying it like that.

"No, I mean- I mean is that like, the music that..." She knows what he's trying to ask, but it's just so much more fun watching him squirm trying to figure out how to word it in a tactful way. "Is that what you listen to at work?"

God, he's so cute, managing to find the most unassuming way to ask that. "It's what I dance to, at work, yes."

"Cool." He has no idea why he asked that. Or where to take the conversation from there. Now he's just sitting in that silence again, staring pointedly at his floor as he ignores the new mental image of her next door, kept apart from him by only a paper thin wall as she practices her routines in her living room.

Spencer's not a creepy guy, he's really not, but he feels like one when he's picturing his neighbor naked while she's sitting right next to him.

And who is she helping when she takes off her coat (because Spencer's apartment is eighty degrees)? Certainly not Spencer, who is half-expecting her to be wearing her uniform underneath. He's relieved when it's actually just a dress. And then he hates himself for thinking it wouldn't be.

She’s too sharp to not catch the look that flashed across his face as she took it off. Curious, excited. Maybe a little lustful. Nervous, for sure. But curious is what she was going to cling onto.

“Do you at least like some of the songs?” She said behind a devilish grin.

“I uh... I haven’t heard any of them, before-”

"What's your favorite?"

Spencer let out an airy chuckle, shrinking under the pressure that she wouldn't let up. He can't answer that question without incriminating himself a little bit. It was easier to laugh and brush it off like she was joking.

"Spencer, I know you have a favorite," she pressed, scooting a tad closer. Her chin rested on her hand, propped up by her elbow resting on her crossed-over knees. "If you tell me I might show you the routine."

The lump in his throat is visible as he swallows, Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He wipes his sweaty palms on his knees before suddenly you're grabbing them, calling his attention as you stand up in front of him.

"I was going to practice anyway. I'm working on a new routine." His eyes can't get wider as you pull him up from the sofa and drag one of his dining room chairs to the center of the living room. "Maybe you can tell me if it's good."

As you queue up the song on your phone, Spencer does the only thing his mind is capable of doing. To sit down and wait for what's coming. Music starts playing softly from your phone speakers, and you move to the light switch in his living room, gesturing to ask if it's alright as you hit the dimmer.

Even in the dim light, Spencer can see how beautiful you are. He can make out the features of your face if he trains his eyes hard enough, and that's exactly what he's doing. Trying to watch your face, even as you're sauntering towards him, hiking up the hem of your dress.

"You okay?" Your tone was playful and light, two things Spencer did not feel capable of being right now. He felt completely serious as you placed a hand loosely on his shoulder, dragging it along his body as you circled the back of his chair, across his back and bracing his neck. Cupping under his jaw so tenderly before letting go. It lit up each nerve ending that came across your path.

You were behind him again, sliding both your hands down the front of his chest with soft pressure, dragging them down as your lips came to ghost near his neck. Your face just barely touched his skin, grazing it in a feather-soft way that made him tickle.

Each cell in his body came to attention under your touch. His eyes almost drifted shut to succumb to the feeling, but then you stood in front of him, swaying your hips gently as you sunk down towards the floor, bracing your self with a hand on each of his knees

As you came up, your hands slid up his thighs, using him as a brace to bring your body closer to his, diving towards him with your chest to his face. You moved slow on the way up, giving him time to appreciate the cleavage revealed by the skimpy dress as you did.

His eyes were still locked on yours, cowering under the attention and to nervous to look anywhere else.

"I-I don't know what to do with my hands," he chuckles, blushing hard.

You hum, turning around and taking a seat on his lap, pushing your hips slowly back until they met his crotch. You gave him a soft grind before letting your back fall to his chest, wrapping one arm around his neck. Taking his free hand into your own, you placed it gently around your thigh before trailing it up your body, allowing him to push the hem of the dress further up as your hands travelled towards your chest. You let his fingers toy with the lace edge of your panties for a second before ghosting them over the swell of your chest, skimming just briefly and teasingly, before dropping his hand back to his side.

Lifting up from your hips, you suspended your body over his, rolling in slow motion just above his lap, barely making contact with his body as he watched you. Still using his chest to bear your weight with your arms hooked around his shoulders, able to crane your neck to the side and place soft kisses on the shell of his ear before sighing deeply into it.

On instinct, his hands fly up, gripping your waist and bringing you back down to him against his hard dick. Immediately, he dropped his hands, feeling suddenly rude for being so forward and demanding. Instead, he was rewarded with a gracious bounce of your ass against him, a few times before grinding deeply against him.

Just as a groan fell from his lips, your fingernails scraped against his shoulder, ducking under the collar of his shirt to feel the bare skin. His hips buck up in reaction, and he's quickly embarrassed again.

"It's okay," you coo, running your hand through his hair. He follows your fingers as they run through the strands, chasing after them, so you provide him with a gentle tug. He bites back a moan and you tug harder, determined to make it fall from his mouth.

He lets out a surprised gasp and his arm wraps over your waist, weighing you down so you couldn't move too far from him. You almost want to tease that clients are never allowed to touch the dancers like this, but you fear that then he might stop. So, you don't.

Just for his benefit, you give him a deep, exaggerated moan right in his ear as you roll against his dick, allowing your free hand to wrap over the arm gripping your waist so tightly. When he starts subtly shifting in his chair, you can feel him getting closer.

He starts rolling his hips in time with yours, pushing them into you as you shift yours back, pressing your bodies ever closer. His eyes flutter shut as he bunches up the fabric of your dress, knotting it in his hands as he tries to hold himself back.

You break another rule when you wrap your lips over his earlobe, sucking it softly into your warm mouth before releasing, "It's okay."

It's all the permission he needs, both of his arms now pinning you against him. He gasps as his hips jut up, staggered and out of rhythm, a few times before he lets out a strangled moan, spilling his release inside his trousers.

It was never your intention to let it get this far, but you're so glad it did when you see his face, covered in a light sheen of sweat and pupils blown with lust. His naturally plump, pink lips are red and swollen from biting down so hard. That slicked-back hairdo he had before is now tousled up from your fingers knotting through it. He looks nothing like that shy, innocent boy who opened his door to you just thirty minutes ago. He's something else entirely, panting for air as he comes down from his climax.

When his eyes open again, they still look at you as softly as they did before. With the same admiration, and maybe now a deeper level of want.

You've never been one to be at a loss of words, but you truly don't know what to say now that you've seen your very cute neighbor come undone under you. And that he looks at you so sweetly despite what's just transpired. You keep it light and playful just as before as you climb off of him, searching for your phone and purse while he excuses himself to the bathroom to clean up.

While he's gone, you hear the maintenance guy coming down the hall, and you have no reason to stay. Just as you go to leave, he comes back out, and he hides his disappointment poorly because you look like you're making a quick escape. But when you see him, your hand leaves the doorknob and you turn to say goodbye.

His long legs carry him across the length of the room quickly, stopping just short of you, and you notice just how tall he is as he towers over you. His eyes flicker between yours and your lips, wanting to kiss you, but unsure where the boundary lies.

You lean forward to kiss him, the gap between you narrowing and your eyes drifting closed.

"Can I take you out?" he stops you in your tracks. He starts panicking internally, taking your stunned silence as a rejection. "Like, on a date? Is that... is that okay?"

Then you finally lung forward, crashing your lips over his as you bring him down to you by his neck, pulling him closer. His mouth chases yours as you separate, and you leave a trail of sweet pecks over his lips and chin, smiling at him and nodding, "It's okay."

-

-

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[thotsome]

Tell Them

Harry Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: When Harry sees you getting a little too comfortable with his friends, he realises he doesn't want to keep you a secret anymore.

Warnings: Dom!Harry, Sub!Reader, nsfw, smut, penetrative sex, oral sex- female receiving, master kink, choking and size kink if you squint, angst start and fluff ending because :)

Word count: 1.4k

~♡︎~

As you sat on Seamus' lap and laughed at his stupid, sexist jokes, you spotted Harry Potter fuming about 15 feet away. You smiled.

Tonight was going to be fun.

"You're so funny, Seam" you said as you ran your hand up his arm. Seamus looked delighted

Harry looked furious.

His bad, you thought. If he doesn't want to tell people we're dating I'm going to act like we aren't.

Him and his stupid hero complex. He insisted that being the chosen one's girlfriend was going to make you a target. What he didn't take into account was that you could look after yourself just fine. You were a Gryffindor through and through.

And today you were wearing a Gryffindor red dress. It was working.

Poor Harry.

"Hey, um, you wanna come to my dorm to see my...uh... chocolate frog cards?" stammered Seamus.

Oops. You hadn't foreseen this. He obviously wanted to show you more than his cards.

But it would make Harry jealous. And if Seamus tried anything you'd just shoot him down.

"Sure", you said, getting off his lap and taking his hand, but not before you saw Harry glaring at you two.

As you reached the boys' dorm and sat on Seamus' bed, he began frantically hunting for his "prized collection". He was such a liar. You almost didn't feel bad for leading him on.

"I'm sure they were here, Weasley must've nicked 'em-" he said

You gave him a reassuring smile that said take all the time you need.

He sighed and went back to "searching".

Just as you were starting to regret coming upstairs, the door was flung open.

And there stood Harry.

"Get out", he said to Seamus, in a dangerously low voice. Seamus looked over his shoulder at you and left the room.

"Well?" You asked.

"I've changed my mind" and then he stode over the room and his mouth was on yours.

He tasted like butterbeer and wind. Like Harry.

You could never get enough of him.

His hands roamed all over your dress. You wanted them below the annoying material. But you couldn't let Harry get away with this so quickly. You pulled away.

"Changed your mind about what?" You asked.

"About telling everyone"

"Why?"

"Y/n" he breathed. His hands pressed your waist gently.

"Tell me, Harry."

He didn't answer. Instead he kissed your neck and snaked his way behind you. You couldn't bring yourself to think rationally when he was nibbling at your soft spot like this. Before you could turn around he picked you up from the back and set you on the bed on your knees while he positioned himself right behind you.

You could feel his hard on pressing against your ass. You moaned. Harry took that as an invitation and unzipped your ridiculously tiny dress and threw it aside.

He raised his eyebrows once he saw what you were wearing underneath it. See-through red panties and a push up bra.

As he ran his fingers lightly over your body, you shivered.

"You little slut," Harry said "Who's your master?" You didn't reply. You couldn't let Harry get the better of you. You pursed your lips.

"Is this how it's gonna be?" Harry asked "Y/n? You're not going to tell me who your master is?"

You shook your head. Not today.

Harry tutted and chuckled. You were such a Gryffindor. He bit your shoulder lightly as he unhooked your bra. You could feel his hunger even from behind you. He took your breasts in his hand and squeezed them.

You swallowed, trying not to moan.

Harry cupped your breasts and played with them, making them bounce and pinching your nipples lightly. You couldn't help it. You whimpered. You wanted him inside you so badly you could feel your walls clenching.

Harry growled at hearing the sound and ripped your panties off you. He wrapped his fingers around your neck lightly and pushed you face- first onto the bed, your ass in the air, your back arched, as he stood at the edge of it.

"Mm, so wet already" Harry said "you're such a good whore, y/n, tell me who your master is and I'll give you what you want."

And you did want. You wanted it so bad.

But all this was to teach him a lesson. You held your ground.

"All right then, if this is how you want to act"

Harry split your thighs with his hands and touched his lips to your now slick opening and you moaned. Very loud. It was so damn good. You pushed your ass onto Harry's face to create the friction you so desperately needed. Harry complied, tracing circles around your clit with his tongue and eating you out. You couldn't stand it. You gripped the sheets with your fingers tightly enough to tear them.

As Harry's tongue slipped inside you, an almost primitive sound left your mouth. . You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, so close to your release. You were going to cum.

Before that could happen, Harry removed his mouth. You let out a frustrated whimper. Damn this. You were going to get what you wanted.

"Harry," you said in an innocent tone, your voice muffled by the sheets, "you're my master" You prayed to Merlin it would work.

And it did. Harry groaned at hearing those words finally come out of your mouth. He flipped you over and pinned your wrists to the bed as you opened your legs wide for him, your feet on the ledge and your knees in the air.

He removed his pants and underwear with his free hand and allowed you to admire him freely. He was really so gorgeous. You inhaled when his member sprang up, now free. He was huge. You'd done this with him before, but you always wondered how you could fit all that inside you. You weren't complaining though.

Harry smiled at you before lining himself up at your entrance. That smile still made your stomach flip.

As he penetrated you, you screamed and arched your back. It was so amazing every. single. time.

Harry went slow first, attempting not to hurt you. But you needed him to go faster and deeper. "Harder, master" you managed to speak between moans and gasps.

Harry released your wrists and hooked his thumb into your mouth. You sucked at it greatfully. He used his other hand to knead your breasts and you couldn't have been more euphoric.

But then Harry hit your g-spot, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. As he continued pounding you into the bed, you moaned and panted and gasped. This man owned you. You'd let him do anything to you. He took his now wet thumb out of your mouth and stimulated your clit. You closed your eyes. You could pass out of the pleasure.

"Open your eyes y/n", Harry said, "I want to watch you fall apart"

Your eyes fluttered open and you looked into his

Harry gave a particularly deep thrust and you could see stars as you moaned his name. After a few more of the same, your walls squeezed Harry's cock as you came over it.

"Oh fuck, y/n you're so beautiful" Harry continued thrusting into you and you felt his member expand. He fucked you through your aftershocks and made your orgasm last longer.

A few moments later you could feel his hot cum fill you up.

Heaven.

As you both lay panting on the bed, Harry turned your face upto his and said "You know why I changed my mind y/n?" You looked at him expectantly as he stroked your hair.

"Because I can't let anyone else do that to you. I love you, y/n."

"I love you too, Harry."

"Reckon everyone already knows that by the way you were screaming my name. I didn't use any silencing charms, you know."

As you mock punched him, you knew that it didn't matter if everyone heard you. You were together, and from how much you loved each other, you would be for a while.

[muffindaddystyles]

After all, Moon is just a rock without Sun.

Trigger warning: Mentions of failed attempt suicide, blood and hospital, Angst.

It’s a chirpy day. Though, there are grey murky clouds in Y/N's apartment and she doesn’t know from where all of it came from, but this is the end.

She badly wants this to be an end.

She stares the brown envelope sitting at her nightstand and all of it comes crashing upon her tiny head and drowning her into depths and sorrows and guilt and agony of her past and present, reminiscing the cracks of happiness she got here and there.

Her breath shudders. The excitement of valentines day glittery outside and she smiles, happy for everyone out there getting to be loved and cherished and pampered.

She gets all of that too – with Harry she gets to pool into all of the giddiness but —- there always buts with Harry because she isn’t his person, she never was.

He’s always gonna be her true bezzy as he describes in true Harry fashion.

She’s grateful for that.

But, she thinks it’s enough for her. She has reached where everyone human wants to – getting to feel loved after many hardships and now when she has enjoyed it and got to know what it feels like to have it all -- she thinks it’s time for her to go.

To get rid of the loneliness that resides inside her, she was never able to overcome and she pinches the blade in between her fingertips and bunches Harry’s hoodie towards her nose smelling it and it warms her heart, it warms every part of her and she really really thinks that the apology in that letter will be enough for him to move on.

She whimpers. Staring blankly as the blade inches into the thin skin of her wrist slowly and painfully and to make it less painfully she tears her delicate skin apart in one swipe and bites down a cry, putting the blood coated life taking thing on the couch and stands up a bit wobbly letting the thick dark droplets fall on the carpet.

She walks towards her bed and flumps into white sheets. Eyelids fluttering and lips parted shallow and they snap open upon the beep of her notifications and when she looks at it – a sad sob tugs out of her lungs.

She lays on her side not focusing the way blood seeps into white sheets and spreads like roots, making a horrific past of her tragedy. Instead, she keeps on watching the video Harry sent to her with hooded tired eyes and a beautiful peaceful smile.

Snuggles into sheets that smells like sunnies and peonies and the cinnamon musk he wears.

His skin soft and curls bouncy and everywhere, his gorgeous face on display and his dimples coveting adorably as he tries to hover the camera at the tray of red velvet cupcakes just as she likes, “Look ducky made cupcakes f'you – two batch in total —--,” She really wants to know for whom the other batch is for but she just shakes her head and giggles wetly, letting her tear tickle her nose when he pouts and shows her the frosting, “Ruined the tops – tried to make frogs on it —-- remember you asked me to? I still’ve some naked ones we could try some froggies on it later —---- .....” His words spins soothingly in her brain and her blurry gaze fills with panicked tears; because she just realised that this isn’t what she wants.

What did she do?

Oh my goodness what did I do?

It’s late and I can’t go back and I’m really gonna miss Sparkly and he'll be so sad to see me like this, but it’s too late Y/N – her heart thumped and it jumps when something pounded loudly and it’s her head maybe.

Harry waits at the door. His grin big and gleeful. He jumps on his toes a bit and he couldn’t believe he's about to do it today, but no matter what happens he’s gonna confess to her and he frowns a tad when no response comes from inside – not even the hum of her sweetness and the prattle of her steps --- there's eerie silence and Harry doesn’t like that.

He waits and ponders over. Then sighs and was about to retreat back but he knows that he’s too lazy to walk all the way back and come back again, so he shimmies her door's key from under her lavender pot.

When he stumbles inside he grins seeing his sleepy head –-- snoring in broad daylight, his ears perking at his own voice echoing through the speaker of her phone and it makes his heart flutter and he has this evil plan to bounce on her mattress and annoy the shit out of her.

But.

When he comes to stand over her and his eyes falls over the bloody sheets and her wrist cut open, her body limp and lifeless – her cheeks soaked with tears and her mouth gasping for oxygen his grin falls drastically into a frown as he went blank for a moment.

Nothing.

Just pitch darkness.

His heartbeat drops.

His breath getting sucked out of his lungs and he feels like fainting.

The white noise that stings his ears and the heart that stopped working a second ago revives back and he wished it didn’t – the tray falls from his trembling hand onto the floor and he’s turning her over and his tears are falling from his throat down to her skin and he’s tripping on his knees and cradling her face trying to jostle her unconscious body.

“Baby ---.. wake up please ....” He weeps and tries to shake her with all the frailness he was left with and he's despising how her usual glowy skin is getting paler by every moment.

She isn’t his Y/N. She'd never do it without giving a second thought for him because she cares about him and he screams hoarsely trying to lift her up and into his chest to hug her – but everything has got so heavy for him.

He's feeling so small.

So helpless and vulnerable.

“Baby!!! I said wake up, pet --- s'not fair ---... y’ve to —- y've t'.... brought – brought you yer favourites .. now don’t be mean and open yer eyes, I know you’re teasin’ me.” He has officially lost it. He thinks he’s going crazy and hallucinating things – trying to avoid the reality.

He cries patting her cheek and his breath hitches in his throat when he plants his ear to her chest and there’s feeble thump of her heart.

He’s lunging quick and picking her up in his arms and squeezing her protectively to himself, slipping outside through her door in rush and panic – her head bobs and her wrist dangles from his forearm as he doesn’t wait for elevator and flies down the stairs with shouts for people to fuck themselves away and breaking every speed limit to reach hospital.

His grip on her hoodie loosens with each step they take towards the ER and he pleads them to let him in but the doctors pushes him out of the flapping doors and he’s tumbling back and onto the tiled floor, almost straining his ankle in attempt.

They told him she’s okay. But, needs a good rest since she lost alot of blood and visitors aren’t allowed –-- before five hours so he waits – he waits alone and with dire pain just to get a single glimpse of her and asking the doctors again and again if she’s okay.

Next he knows the sun is leaving him and he’s left in company of darkness before his friends are surrounding him – comforting and consoling him.

He doesn’t need it. Because, he isn’t feeling anything. He’s numb to his stomach and when they look down at him in sympathy – everything comes churning in his throat and he’s pushing everyone away and tumbling towards the washroom sliding against the floor knees first and throwing inside the bidet with loud groany noises.

He feels like all of his organs will come out and spurt infront of him at this point.

He tries to grab onto something and almost falls back, walks on his wobbly legs towards the sink and splashes water harshly on his face that it hurts.

His eyes struck at himself in the mirror and he can’t recognize himself ... his eyes hollow and his skin crumbled and his flimsy shirt sticking to his chest from dried blood and he doesn’t give a fuck unless his baby is alright and he’s griping the edges of the sink hunching forward as more cries squelches out of him.

He doesn’t wipe the tears away and when walks outside Sarah is rushing to help him but he’s gesturing her to stop and falling on the bench. Throwing his head against the wall and his chest heaves as he mutters gaining everyone's attention, “She almost died ...”

“She’s okay now, H.” Luna tells him but he kisses his teeth and grunts angrily.

“No. No, you don't get it!! She. Is. Not.” He pushes the heels of his palms against his sockets and rubs them in frustration, “I was the only one she got ‘n –-- I wanted to make her feel loved not — fuck, I failed her. I failed the only person that matters to me, ‘course I lacked somethin’ s'why she didn’t tell me what was goin' on with her.” Fresh tears brims at his lashes and Sarah squeezes his shoulder.

“When I saw her all blue ‘n bloody, was so scared to even touch her ---... thought I died at that mo' ‘s worse than dyin' Sarah ... watchin' ye’loved one slip from yer life ‘n – ‘n that you’ll never have ‘em again —--...” He stutters and runs his palms down his face.

“I’m in so much pain watchin' her suffer on that ventilator ...” His bottom lip wobbles and he rocks back and forth on the bench, hair falling in his eyes but he doesn’t do anything to push them back.

Luna doesn’t have a heart to give him that letter. Not knowing how he’ll take it considering he’s already broken to pieces and dust, lingering on bit of a hope.

But, when the nurse comes and tells them their time is over and only one person could stay with Y/N, Luna's handing the letter to Harry leaving him confused and frowning.

Though, he’s glad when they let him inside the room and a shiver runs down his spine upon seeing thick tubes pricking and poking the delicate skin of his ducky.

Her unconscious body looks peaceful and halo like and it’s scary.

He doesn’t make a noise. Tries to be as quite as possible and bites down at his lip to avoid from tearing up but he ends up so, caressing her flushed cheek and kisses her temple feeling her light breath hit his neck.

“’M so sorry, ducklin'. I’m baby. Fo' being late in everythin’ ....---” He sniffles. Wiping at his nose and sits beside her as close as he could – feathering his finger pads at her knuckles and flinches back when the finger she has a heart rate monitor on twitches and he’s afraid that he hurt her.

He keeps on watching her not blinking an eye and when he couldn’t sleep he takes a look at the letter sitting in his lap.

He shakes his head and ignores it. Then his trembly fingers are opening it and raising it infront of his eyes and he recognizes the writing right away and it makes him whimper pathetically.

He recites the words. Not able to feel the moisture ticking down his throat, the pet name she used to call him rattling in his brain and he remember the night they met – he can never forget that night.

Dear Sparkly, I know you’ll be very grumpy and angry with me when you’ll get this letter -- but, it’s okay. Yeah? I’ll be looking at you from above don’t worry —-- so you better not be silly with yourself.

And he could imagine her sweet eyes getting all big and concerned.

I just wanted to let you know that I love you. I’ve loved you .... since that night when you were sitting at those steel stairs opposite to the rooftop of the vacant building I was sitting at and you eyed me peculiarly when I stood at the edge waving at you – just because you had your earphones plugged but you weren't wearing them --- it was cute because you were too engulfed, staring at the moon.

He’s baffled that she remembers the smallest detail. Harry wasn’t feeling very well and came to that empty rooftop to relax, only to get interrupted by a cute girl.

She trailed behind him like a ducklin' after that -- as if she got the cute orange beak to chatter his anxiousness away.

I want you to be careless and free and never feel like you’re struck inside your own body and I want you to love -– to make sure you feel loved.

I hope that you’ll have someone with whom you could gaze at moon for hours, listening to Beatles together sharing one headphone (I hated them by the way) and when they sit beside you, it feels like they’re the moon -– like they glimmer your insides, when you touch them it’s all heavenly and pretty and it makes you feel loved and jittery.

His heart clenches into fist and clots at that and he bites the inside of his cheek.

Heartbroken.

Sad.

Terribly sick.

He isn’t liking it reading it. He’s hating it infact. He was about to stop. Tear it in pieces and dump it in trash. But, then again he couldn’t.

Because Harry. I’m not your moon. I’m the sun. That’d irritate you and you’d never be able to look at it with full heart eyes –-- I’m too hot for you, pun right there. My touch will burn you instead of filling you with jitteriness. You’d wait for me to go and yearn for the moon to come back --- Always on your toes because everything becomes too much of a heat for you and I don’t want that –- I love you but that doesn’t mean I’ll take you down with me.

I’m not that selfish, Harry.

I love you and I was too embarrassed to tell you this in person.

I hope you forgive me.

Yours Sun.

He’s cornered up and sobbing into his elbow, as the paper written with her whole soul hangs from the tips of his fingers and he takes a look at her with cloudy eyes and digs his nails into his knees.

He hiccups jumping forward and towering her when she stirs with a whine and Harry’s cupping her cheeks, “Oh my ...,” He’s pressing the button to call the nurses and doctors and gives her an eskimo kiss before pulling away and examining her closely.

Her eyes are pink floods of tears and humiliation. Even though they’re unaware of her presence and exhausted.

Her lips chapped as she rolls her tongue to mumble some words, “’m sorry ...” She whimpers as her arm shoots with pain and Harry’s shaking his head, pressing his forehead against hers.

“Shhh. Shh. Baby ducky, ‘s okay. Tell me you’re okay, please tell me you’re not leavin’ me again.” She slip shuts her eyes and nods. She’s weak and frail. Even if the doctors checked her and made her drink some fluids she’s still not able to move without Harry’s assistance.

She has her eyes closed. Head sunk into pillow and they flutter when Harry speaks, in the most softest voice and draws circles on her knee while doing so.

“I love you.” He croaks out. Gulping down the bulk choking him alive and she stares him, her heart pausing for a bit and his eyes widen seeing the monitor going weird and it makes her cheeks heat up.

Embarrassed she looks away and Harry takes her chin between his fingers and gazes her with profound intensity and fondness.

“You’re my sun. You’re. I bask in yer warmth and y’make me feel warm everywhere, it oozes from me every pore in adoration and love. Even when you don’t appear I feel your presence and the clouds could never be pink without ye' ‘n my skies would never be cherubic if it’s not you my darling —... I gaze moon only for Sun to peek from the hues and I always wait fo’ ye’ —-- always gonna be there on that rooftop counting the seconds you shine up my world.” His fingers shaky as he slips it between her palms lingering to get relief from her touch and she sniffs, blinking the tears away accepting him and kissing the inside of his palm.

“After all, Moon is just a rock without Sun.” He whispers and that was enough for her to close the distance between them and place her cold lips against his and he embraces her tenderly -- pecking her upper lip twice then kissing her whole mouth to whisk out all his love into it and her fingers brushes over his jaw muttering against his taffy lips.

“I love you. Even when I was dying all I could think about was ye'sparkly -- but it was too late and I was aware of how much pain you were in but it felt like I was struck inside a cage —---...” She rambles. Coughing when it hurts her throat and Harry shushes her kissing her hair gently and mutters against them – smoothing his palm down her back to calm her down.

“You’re ‘ere. In me arms is what matters.” He keeps her face tucked under his chin and keeps on pecking her skin.

“’M g'na take care of you, baby.”

[justaredheadf1fan]

Bak-ú at it again! (I can't stop)

Masterlist

Have I suffered at work today? Yes. Have I checked everything during FP3 and Quali in the F1 app so as to not miss important information before being able to actually watch all of it? Yes. Have I almost screamed in the office when seeing Charles get pole literally last minute? Also yes.

Terrible end to my shift only meant buying the Nutella jar I'm currently digging my spoon into while watching FP3 laying in bed. This could actually be paradise, I'm a simple gal (way too simple sometimes, I'm afraid).

We're back to the funny (to me) comments about bottoming during FP3 at least, but I bet it won't end there and they'll give me more material in Quali. They're making me laugh with this, how can my humor be so broken? 😂 (indeed, Lewis delivered in Quali)

Apparently Sharl hasn't listened to me and has gone off track again, he's gonna give me a heart attack. I've already forgiven him because he ended up getting pole but.... this kid, I'm serious 🤪 and the frog complaining about cars being everywhere just... Like he's not a Formula 1 driver, sport in which 20 cars don't go vroom vroom all at the same time in the very same track. Amazeballs.

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

I haven't commented on it while watching FP3, but porpoising is still going strong and for what I've read, Merc is still running crappy tests on Lewis' car? Shit, stop this please and fix this tractor, I'M BEGGING YOU MERCEDES. I mean, how much of that terrible bouncing can these boys take without further consequences to their health?

I'm seeing Zhou climbing to 5th which is a happy thing right now, considering that Mick is 20th and Kevin is not much better. I know they ended up not going through to Q2, so... 🥲 Now I've seen Lace hitting the wall first and NOW losing his front wing, omg Lance... 😂

Spanish commentator and dearly behated Antonio Lobato saying in the last minutes of Q1 "I love Hamilton talking with that metaphysical voice, it looked like he was going to make a confession. The man who whispered to engineers". WTF Lobato? 😂 We know you secretly love him while you still try and show that you really hate him and prefer anyone else before him, but what the fuck were you on today?

I'm watching Q2 while having something to eat and I just saw Seb going against the wall, which I've read he did on purpose since they don't really have much choice on that corner. He's insane, your honor. And now Sharl is hitting the wall with the left rear, SOMEONE PLEASE STOP THEM. And Norris is apparently doing 180º frequently this weekend, with any luck he might do it tomorrow while taking out his friend the frog 😬

Apart from those few things I haven't seen much else worth mentioning, so now it's time for Q3 and time to watch my dear demon giving me a heart attack last minute, but now seeing it on screen.

Charlos make the same time sector after sector until the very last where Charles drifted a little too close to the wall and lost the time enough to allow Carlos to get P1. It was really sexy watching Sharl drift close to the wall on that car, honestly, even if he lost some milliseconds to Carlos.

That last lap was incredible. He gave it his all and made it perfect. This guy, I mean. And that smile, so big and so bright and so blissful when approaching the interviewer, I mean how can he be real? Such a beautiful boy, I can't stand it. He's such an angel.

I really hope he gets it tomorrow, he deserves it so much. Let's see what Sunday brings but I trust it needs to be good already.

Pretty late and I hadn't even realized, so time to go to bed otherwise I won't make it to work tomorrow.

Peace out!

[bubblyhoney]

soundtrack

warnings: sailor language, suggestive themes/mentions of sex, drinking, nicotine use, being tipsy/intoxicated. no graphic or explicit nsfw content besides basically tonguing and giving hickeys and an ass grab.

tags: karl jacobs x fem!reader

words: 1898

A/N: i wrote this thinking that both people in this fic are of drinking age; i’m not, but i thought it would be a cool idea. i can assume many adult gatherings feature alcohol, so yeah. drinking isn’t integral to the plot of this fic. also it is pre-(or post)pandemic bc it’s just a general rule of thumb to not have parties right now.

-

“Don’t, kill, me,” Karl warbles, setting down his bottle with a sigh. Freaks plays loud and tinny on the TV, album cover bathing those occupying the couch in a grayish light. Those occupants being just you and Karl. The room is lit with purple string lights and that one thrifted lamp with frogs on the shade he’d sworn was the best purchase he’s ever made. You’re sprawled out on the other half of the sofa, ankles crossed and a can of vodka seltzer swaying in your hand. The song changes to 20 Min by Lil Uzi and your foot bounces to the beat.

“What time is it?” You sigh, placing the nearly-empty can onto the coffee table next to your apple berry-flavored pen. He flicks his wrist towards his face.

“2:46,” he delivers, and takes a swig of the Angry Orchard in his hand. His sixth, specifically. The rest of the group had left roughly ten minutes ago, leaving the two loneliest people to drink alone. You, thoroughly tipsy, decided it was better to spend the night on his spare than pay $50 for an Uber. He agreed, of course. Why wouldn’t he?

Lifting onto your elbows, you just stare at him. He lifts an ankle to cross over the other and your eyes drop. What is his fascination with Spongebob socks?

“We should play 20 questions.”

“What?” His head swivels like a bobblehead and a giggle barely escapes your lips.

“20 questions!” You say excitedly, heaving onto your knees to look at him earnestly. “You go first.”

“Um, okay.” The song fades into Paper Planes and he bobs his head to the beat. “What’s your favorite breed of dog?”

“Shiba inu. Are you a virgin?”

The fucking tone of your voice makes him dissolve into giggles, hand pressed to his chest. You just shrug, reaching for the pen in the table. “Fair question, I think,” you say defensively. His chest heaves, but he sits up.

“No—no, I’m not a virgin.” His cheeks are red, but he’s smiling like it was an easy answer. Your mind floods with images of his long hair in your face, long fingers—a sweaty chest. You shake your head. “Okay, my turn,” he continues, giving you a weird look. “would you rather kiss Chucky Cheese or Ronald McDonald?”

“Karl!” You whine. “That is not how 20 Questions works!” You grumpily pull from your pen, blowing the smoke out of the side of your mouth. Eughk. Apple berry sucks.

“Fine, fine,” he sighs, rolling his eyes. The tell-tale guitar chords of The Adults Are Talking floods the room and his face brightens with a new question. “Have you ever been to a concert?”

“Yes, actually. The Jonas Brothers in 2009.” He wrinkles his nose, finishing his cider and dropping it onto the coffee table with a sharp noise. Your eyebrows furrow. “Don’t you dare badmouth my boys.”

“Wasn’t gonna!” He reaches for your pen and you give it to him with a slight pout on your lips that he glances at.

“Good. Where is the weirdest place you’ve had sex?” A grin climbs your lips.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.” His eyes widen and smoke curls out of his nostrils as he hands your pen back. You just shrug and pick up your discarded seltzer. “Gimme a sec to think.”

“So many places?” You tease, finishing the last drop of your drink and crushing it beneath your palm. He shrugs, mirroring you, and cracks open another cider. He seems to think, brows furrowing, as he pulls a swig from the dark bottle.

“Boat.”

“Boat,” you repeat.

“Yup.” He looks at you, gaze flickering to your lips imperceptibly fast. If you were sober you’d probably notice, but you’re not and you don’t.

“You’ve fucked on a boat?” No way. Karl Jacobs. On a boat. Having sex. What an image—

“Yeah, senior year was great for me.” More Than A Woman fills the space of the silence as you consider this. You blink, processing.

“Whose boat?” You're genuinely curious. Was it a yacht, pontoon, fishing boat? Row boat? The sudden scene of him getting his foot stuck in a fishing net while pantless clouds your vision.

“My girlfriend’s.” And that’s that on that because he’s moving on before you can open your mouth and continue the discussion of the logistics of this. “Stop investigating, perv. Now it’s my turn. Hmm— wait! Where is the weirdest place you have had sex?” A sneaky grin is on his lips and now you just want to kiss him, damn it.

“I-Uh. I think it was under the bleachers. I also had a great senior year,” you offer, scooting forward on your knees so that you’re only a foot from Karl. He looks impressed, actually.

“Who was it?”

Your eyebrow raises in question.

“Personal question or one of the 16 left, Karl?”

His cheeks heat and he looks once to the TV.

“Personal,” he mutters into the mouth of his bottle.

“It was Brian Hernandez,” you sigh, gazing off into the distance with a fond look in your eyes. You feel the end of the game of 20 questions as you see him chew on his bottom lip from your peripheral. “Dude was insatiable. Managed girls’ basketball and looked damn good doing it.”

“I managed girls’ soccer,” he says simply, uncrossing his legs. “My girlfriend was goalie.”

“How long did you guys date?” You fold your legs up underneath you, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. You feel the most sober now out of all tonight.

“Dunno.” He sips at his cider. “Couple weeks maybe?”

You smirk. “Karl Jacobs puts out in the first couple weeks?” That’s hot, you don’t say. He gives you a look. “18 year old Karl was a player,” you tease, leaning forward to poke at his chest.

Smacking your hand away, he sighs and lifts a hand to tousle his hair.

“Guess he was.” Clear eyes meet yours and you take a hit from the pen that lays discarded in your palm. He watches the smoke float from your mouth. The TV screen swipes to Deceptacon and the mood quickly shifts. “So.” He turns toward you with lifted eyebrows. “You were a total nerd in highschool, huh.”

Your jaw drops. “I was not!”

“Come on; yes, you were.” He makes a face and drains half the bottle of cider. “You probably were in SpellBowl and every teacher’s pet.”

“Nice try, bitch. You were a dumb jock. I’ve seen the pictures. The yearbook pictures.” You look pointedly at his hair.

“My hair was not that bad.”

“Yes it was.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he grumbles and pushes his hand through his long curls. “Just a little… short.” It’s your turn to make a face.

“A buzz cut nearly to your scalp is more than short.” He huffs at you and finishes the cider just as the song switches. “Anyways.” You don’t really have anything to say, actually. Too busy thinking about teenage Karl smacking tennis rackets around and fielding lost soccer balls for his girlfriend. She’s long gone, right?

“Are you wearing lingerie?” Karl asks suddenly and you look up. He stares pointedly at your chest and you move a hand to pat at your stomach.

“Oh,” you start, and flick the last three buttons open, fabric falling to reveal a baby blue lace corset. “Yeah.” He can’t seem to stop imagining what’s underneath it. Fuck. “Do you like it?” The tone in your voice is taunting and he has to look away.

He clears his throat and places the second glass bottle onto the coffee table.

“Yes.”

You rise onto your knees and pull your arms out of the button-up, letting it fall back on the couch.

“Do you want to touch it?” You're looking up at him from underneath your eyelashes, he realizes, and you know exactly what you’re doing. You’re not asking if he wants to touch the corset; you’re asking if he wants to touch you.

“Can I?” He glances at you warily. You just nod, and it’s then that you’re shuffling forward. The material is soft on his fingertips when he brushes a hand across your torso. “Silk,” he mumbles, and stares, transfixed, at the loopy flower pattern crawling across your waist in shades of milky blue. You just hum and watch. He realizes suddenly when he traces a finger up on the ridge of the neckline that you’re not wearing anything underneath it. It makes him stop in his tracks, neck flushing. “Are-are you—,”

“Wearing a bra? No, I’m not.” You lay a hand on his shoulder, hoisting one leg over his thighs and settling down comfortable on his lap. He bristles then relaxes as you slide a hand up into his scalp. “Do you want me to show you?”

He glares at you, barely annoyed, and shifts so that his large hands rest in the curve of your waist. Poison starts in the speakers as his eyebrow raises.

“Do you normally wear corsets when we all hang out?” A lock of your hair moves past your cheek as he brushes it out of the way. His mouth tilts into a smirk. You seem to think about it, lips pursed, and grip both his shoulders in your hands.

“Only when I’ve got someone to impress.” A hand on your lower back presses insistently and you fall further into his lap.

“Who are you here to impress, Y/N?” He’s barely an inch from your mouth now, and can’t seem to keep his eyes on one part of your face. Cool breath fans onto your cheeks and they warm. God, he’s even cuter up close.

“You,” barely passes your lips before he’s taking the side of your neck into his hand and stretching to connect your lips with his own.

Cherry, you think. Cherry chapstick, that cheeky bastard. Taking your wrist in his hand, he loops it up and around his neck. You’re making a noise into his mouth, you realize, right as he’s sliding a hand down to the side of your thigh and gripping it between his long fingers. You shiver as he pulls away too soon, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your mouth before sinking his teeth into your neck. The gasp that leaves your mouth is surprisingly loud and your cheeks flush further. He just hums, pleased, and stretches an arm to the opposite side of your waist to hug you closer. Warm lips move on the skin of your neck and his tongue darts out few and far between the kisses.

“Fuck,” he breathes when your hips jerk forward once.

“Sorry,” you whisper up at the ceiling, eyes falling shut. “reflex.”

He grins against your neck and moves to grip an ass cheek in his palm.

“Your reflex to me licking a hickey is to grind into my crotch?” he teases. You just have to nod, lips parted, as he soothes another bruise with his tongue.

“Karl.” He seems to either not hear you or ignore you for he’s removing himself from your neck and connecting your mouths once more. “Karl,” you stutter between kisses, and he squeezes at your ass.

“Yes?” His lips are bitten and puffy when he pulls away, a smug look on his beautiful face.

“Take off my corset.”

He looks between your face and the lingerie, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

-

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. :D comment what you think !

[foxxgirlvibes]

Carnival Dates

Characters: akaashi, tsukishima, matsukawa

Summary: cute outings to fairs, festivals, carnivals with your bf

』 Akaashi

Brings you to a pop-up fair

Watches you coo over all the animals in the petting zoo

Acts like he’s just going through the motions but is having fun

You practically vibrated with excitement in Akaashi’s passenger seat as he drove the two of you to the fair that had just come to town. You had mentioned that you used to go all the time when you were little and he insisted on taking you there again. Pulling into the makeshift grass parking area, you barely let him stop the car before jumping out.

As you entered you had your eyes set on a face painting booth. You tugged lightly on his shirt and gestured towards it. He looked at you fondly as you waited in line, “Alright darling but we have to get matching ones. How do you feel about frogs?”

After getting your matching frogs, your attention was caught by a very loud chicken. “Kaashi look!!!” You pulled him towards the petting zoo. He grinned as you dragged him over to the goats. “He’s so precious I love him.” While you were distracted he took pictures of you cooing over the goat you were currently feeding.

Noticing a cart of sweets further in, you turned to you boyfriend to find him having a staring contest with a sheep, “Keiji, are you alright?”

“Oh sorry. I don’t trust him,” he gestured to the sheep that was now grazing, “I got bit by a sheep when I was little.” He interlocked fingers with you, “Now, where else do you wanna go before we hit the ferris wheel?”

』 Tsukishima

The two of you go to a street festival

Doesn’t really like all the people so he holds on to you

Will share your favourite street foods with you

The evening air smelt like food, the nearby plants, and faintly of smoke. You inhaled giddily and turned to your boyfriend, nearly bouncing in excitement. “Tsukki,” you put on your best pout, “I wanna see the performers!”

His deadpan expressed softened then returned to normal in a blink, “They’re all the way at the other end of the street dummy.” He sighed as you huffed and pouted even harder. Suddenly his hand was in yours and the blond was leading you through the crowd.

Halfway down the street, a delicious aroma surrounded you, causing you to stop in your tracks and try to locate the cart selling one of your favourite foods. Tsukishima turned towards you to see what had garnered your attention this time. He rolled his eyes and passed you some cash, “Get a big enough size for us to share.” Then he walked to go sit on the curb before you could try and give him his money back.

You brought the food over to him on the curb, “Hey,” he looked up at your quizzically, “thanks for bringing me here, we don’t have to go see the performers if you don’t want to.” You leaned your head on his shoulder, “I mean it babe, we can go home if you’re bored.”

Standing up he offered you his hand again, “Don’t be stupid y/n, we can’t go home without seeing a single performer. Cmon, unless you wanna get a bad spot.” Smiling, you grabbed his hand and happily continued your date.

』 Mattsun

Takes you to an amusement park

Makes you get there early so he can go an every single water ride

Teases you onto all the roller coasters to distract from his nerves

“C’mon y/n we gotta hit the mountain ride before we leave the water zone! Last one I promise.” He had made the same promise on the last 4 rides. You rolled your eyes and let yourself be dragged by your boyfriend.

Mattsun was lucky he had great puppy dog and eyes because he convinced you to ride that mountain 6 more times. You were pretty sure you were so drenched you would never truly dry off. To thank you for going on every single water ride with him aside from the little kid ones he’s way too big for, he bought the two of you matching shirts from a stand in the normal area of the park.

“Issei cmonnnnn, the line is so short! This is the best coaster in the park we gotta go!!!” You were whining but didn’t care, this rollercoaster was what you had been looking forward to all day. Mattsun pretended to think about it while your whining increased, grinning at you, he walked over to the line.

As you leaned back against his chest chatting happily, the smile dropped as he looked at the monster of a ride he wanted to go on. “You know sugar,” he faked a smug grin, “if you get scared you can always hold my hand.” Sticking your tongue out at him, you turned yourself back around to face the line.

He was really hoping you’d take him up on his offer, because he was 60% sure he was gonna pass out on the first drop. The things he did to see you smile.

This has been unfinished in my drafts for 2 months. It’s not even like it was super long or anything 😐

[dameronology]

everything i need {mando x reader}

summary: din has to rethink his life plans how that you’re by side - not that he’s complaining {i do have a taglist but it’s 1am and i simply cannot be arsed to find it, please accept my not very sincere and very tired apologies}

warnings: much language 

enjoy!! sorry for the lack of imagines lately, i’m back at work and working as a director on two of my group projects so i am neck deep in covid-related paperwork. 

- jazz

p.s this has not been proofread, because i am just that shit 

Din Djarin had never needed a reason to find a home. Settling down permanently wasn’t an option in his line of work. Permanence had never been part of his plan. 

Then again, a lot of things hadn’t been part of his plan. The Child certainly hadn’t; if you’d told him five years ago that his firstborn son was going to look like...well, like that, he probably would have drop kicked you into the next rim. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t imagine his life without the kid now, or that he would rain hell on anyone who would dare lay a finger on the toad-like toddler. His life had gone in a direction he never could have anticipated and his son wasn’t even the biggest detour. That was you. Din wasn’t even entirely sure where you’d come from or when you’d come into his life, but he would have first surrendered his ship and everything on it before even considering the notion of living without you. Whether it was simply luck, or whether there was some higher power who finally decided to give him a fucking break, The Mandalorian had a family. He was no longer a lone gunslinger with nothing to lose; now, he had everything to lose.

The fear that came with his newfound vulnerability was a small price to pay, however. In the quieter moments - when it was just you and him and the kid - he had no question in his mind that everything was worth it. Every fright, every concern, every agonising moment that Din spent overthinking and calculating a million and one ways to keep you both safe was completely and irretrievably worthwhile. It was a little unconventional but a family was a family. A clan of three. 

You didn’t often get to take breaks. They came every few months, usually whenever Din needed had had a particularly had job. You’d found your place halfway between helping him kick-ass and babysitting the Child (who at this point, was essentially your son too). It meant that days you were running across rooftops in Nevarro with a blaster in hand, and others you were running around after your kid, holding a diaper rather than a gun. The duality was astounding.

The last few weeks had been a little hard. There had been one bounty who had been relentless, and another who had tried to take a hit at you. It hadn’t taken long for you to put the bastard in his place but the Mandalorian had taken it a little more personally than you. Before throwing him into the carbonite, Din had broken a little more than six of the target’s ribs and given him a nice shiner on his left eye. He never minded when he was the one who had a punch or two thrown at him but when it was you? Din never took to it lightly. 

Once both bounties had been sent to their respective clients and you’d collected your rewards, Din had set the Crest’s path towards a jungle planet. It was one he had frequented a few years ago - before you, before the kid - and whilst it was a little desolate, it was safe. It was away from any Imps, any potential danger. It meant that you could both let your guards down for a bit and put your feet up. Plus, the Child had been dealing with cabin fever for the better part of two weeks and you were convinced you were going to lose it if you didn’t get the little fucker to some open space soon. Preferably one with lots of frogs, because he was not taking well to the freeze-dried food that you’d been fobbing him with him for the last few months. 

You were laying in an open field, weight propped up on your elbows as you glanced out into the grass over your sunglasses. Din was making his way back towards you, trudging through the long blades; the low evening sun was bouncing off the beskar of his helmet, causing you to scrunch your face up. You could tell from the way he was talking that he was exhausted. He’d been on kid duty all day (it was your turn tomorrow) and somehow, that was more tiring that any bounty. 

‘Where is he-’

Your question was answered before you could even finish it; the little creature suddenly appeared through the grass, hitting your shin with a thump. Digging his claws into your jeans, he scrambled up onto your legs, plopping into your lap and leaning against your stomach. He peered up at you with big brown eyes for a second, before twisting back around to rest his head against your chest for a nap. There went your evening plans.

‘Did he eat anything?’ You raised your arm out to Din, signalling for him to sit next to you.

Aside from his helmet, he had shed the rest of his armour. The material of the undershirt he was wearing was soft against your skin as you leant into his side, letting it a small hmph as you did. He instinctively wrapped his arm your waist - because even on a safe planet, Din was naturally protective - and pulled you closer, using his free hand to run a finger over the kid’s wrinkly head. 

‘I saw him swallow a frog whole.’ His modulated voice replied. ‘It’s still disturbing.’

‘Not as disturbing as when he ate the fish whole.’ You grimaced, glancing up at him. ‘The thing was bigger than him and he gulped it down. Biologically, it doesn’t work.’

‘Nothing about him makes sense.’ He said. 

‘The only thing that makes sense is that nothing makes sense.’ You joked. ‘But I guess we’ll find out a little bit more when we work out where the hell he actually came from.’

It was a subject you didn’t approach too much. You knew that one day, you’d have to hand him back over to his own species; it was all well and good to look after him when he was still small, but you had no idea what he was going to grow to be. Finding his home planet had sort of been a secondary quest for you and Din, between bounties. Given how slow the little bastard aged, time wasn’t too much of a concern. Knowing where to start was the problem.

‘I wish we could keep him forever.’ You quietly murmured. 

‘Me too, cya’rika.’ Din gave your shoulders a light squeeze. ‘But we have to do what’s right for him.’

‘I know.’ You nodded. ‘What do you think we’ll do after we’ve found his home? His species?’

It wasn’t something that Din had given much thought. He was so used to planning everything in the moment - hours ahead, at most. He hadn’t thought in terms of days, let alone weeks or years. It made sense to, because you weren’t going anywhere. He had an opportunity to have a life outside of being a bounty hunter; you’d shown him that much. He’d found a home with you - a sense of contentment and belonging - but in a physical sense, he’d never thought about settling on a planet. When he was younger, the idea of having his own children and his own clan had played on his mind, but it had faded as the years went by. Maybe it was time to revisit the idea.

‘We could get married.’ Din quietly suggested. ‘Start a clan of our own. Something permanent.’

‘I didn’t realise that the word permanent was in your vocabulary.’ You replied. 

‘It wasn’t. Not before you.’ He said. ‘There was a lot of things I never thought about before you.’

‘A clan?’ You intertwined your fingers with his, giving his hand a light squeeze. ‘In a few years, absolutely - but I am not doing it on that pile of junk.’

‘That pile of junk got us here.’

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head - but there was a smile on your face. ‘We don’t have to think about it now. One step at a time.’

There was silence for a minute, as you both pondered to yourselves. In the same way you hadn’t been part of Din’s plan, he hadn’t really been part of yours. When you’d met him, you’d never expected to fall in love with him. You couldn’t see his face, or his emotions or his feelings - but after a while, you saw him. It was though you had seen straight through the armour and right into his very soul without either of you trying. You were first person to see him as Din, and not as the Mandalorian. You understood his humanity, and the fact he wasn’t always a warrior; it meant he could let his walls down around you, and seek support and solace in a way he’d always thought to be terrifying. And it was, at first, but now it felt natural and healthy. He had you and you had him. Nothing else mattered.

‘I’ll go wherever you go.’ Din broke the quiet, eyes falling down to where the child lay in your lap.

‘You’d do that for me?’ You rested a hand on the side of his helmet; it was cold against your skin, but the gesture was there. ‘You’d give us all this up for me?’

‘I’m not giving anything up.’ He replied. ‘When I have you, I have everything I need.’

Din had always been blunt and straight to the point: sometimes it was a blessing, sometimes it was a curse. Right now, it was completely and entirely a virtue. It meant that you didn’t have to second guess his feelings for you, or worry about him leaving you. Everything he said to you was a promise. Talks of your future were mutuals goals, things to look forward to together. 

‘I love you.’ You pressed a kiss to the edge of his helmet. 

‘I love you too.’ Din replied. 

‘So let’s retire right now and get a moisture farm on Tatooine-’

‘- don’t push it.’