#she is sitting on my chest purring away as I type this

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 29

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, NSFW, MDNI, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: poor parenting discussed, Talia may or may not be ooc (if she is, fear not! I have received 2 separate permits, and have been told I may do as I please!), mild cussing, fluff, angst, a smidge of fear

wc: 2.4k

Chapter Selection

“... Babe, I know you've described Damian's mom as a ‘real piece of work', and Bruce told me a bit about how she raised him before he came here, so I do know she's not what I would consider a good mom. But that doesn’t explain why her visiting means we can't go to the manor?”

Jason sighed, setting his phone aside. He cupped my cheeks, purring my name; “darling, light of my life. I mean this in the best possible way. … You cannot be trusted to keep your cool with her.”

I blinked several times, frowning; “what on earth does that mean?!”

“You are … passionate. You love fiercely, and I love that about you. Seriously, I don't want you to think this is a bad thing; the way you love us makes me feel so safe, and I know Damian agrees. But … you've already yelled at one of his teachers, his principal, and Bruce. You will not be able to hold your tongue with Talia. And holding our tongues is necessary with her. … If she believes living at Wayne Manor is making Damian weak, she will take him away 'for his own good’.”

“How on earth would I make her think he's weak?”

“Talia is the type of person who believes attachment makes us weak. The things we care about can be used against us, the people we love are the people who will hurt us the worst. She believes it's better to be feared than loved. She's why he's so good at masking his feelings. Why he doesn't always understand his own feelings; his early education did not include processing and recognizing emotions. But she's … incredibly astute. She's analytical, and brilliant, and terrifying, and … she's his mother; she taught him everything he knew before he came here, and now she can read him without trying, even when he tries to hide his feelings from her. So if she sees how you two are around each other, even if neither of you so much as acknowledge each other, she'll know how you feel about him, and how he feels about you, and we'll probably never see him again.”

I growled softly, clenching my jaw. “… Bitch…”

He chuckled softly, holding me close. “I know. Which is why we have to keep our distance. … She doesn't visit often, and when she does she never stays long. She'll probably be here for a week at most, stalking the kid to make sure he's not slipping, and once she's gone I’m certain he'll show up on our doorstep.”

I sighed softly. “... Ok. … If you see him between now and then you have to find a way to tell him that I’m missing him and I love him very much, ok?”

He groaned softly. “Aw, come on, babe. The Red Hood can't lean in to give Robin a hug during patrol!”

“I'm not asking you to hug him - don't hug him! Just make sure he knows that I'm thinking about him. Please?” I pouted, snuggling against his chest; “for me?”

“Ughhhhh …. Fine. For you.” He sighed, running his fingers down my spine.

I grinned, snuggling against him happily. “Thank you~”

“Yeah, yeah …” he chuckled, kissing my temple. We sat on the floor, curled against each other, for a long while before Jason finally moved us to the bed to get some sleep.

Jay quickly started moving his things into my place. I gave him my spare key and made space in the closet. When I got home from the next girls night some of his clothes were hung up next to mine. The next day there was one of those cheap plastic dressers next to my nice wood one, and sitting on top of it was Jason's cologne, a book, and his deodorant. His shampoo, conditioner, and shower gel joined mine on the side of the tub. We bought more towels and a new set of sheets.

All these little changes made me giddy; his things slotting into position next to mine just felt so right, and I would get used to the weapons that were suddenly stashed all over the apartment. We had a thorough gun-safety presentation that night, and he showed me where everything was. On the next gym-and-range day, we finished training with an exercise where he would, entirely at random, shout “intruder” and time how long it took me to have a weapon trained on him. My best time was two seconds; he had expected me to go for the gun in the drawer, not the knife block in front of me on the counter.

Soon I started packing Jason a lunch for patrol. Mostly because I wanted to take care of him in some way, but a part of me also hoped he'd run into Damian out there and share the cookies I made. He rolled his eyes at me the first time I pressed the insulated bag into his hands, but accepted it anyway. I sent him off with a kiss and a wave, and settled in to wait for him to come home. Hours later I fell asleep on the couch, and when I woke up it was 4:30am and he was unlocking the door. The exhaustion rolled off him as I pulled him into a tight hug, and we collapsed into bed. When I woke up for real around 11 the lunch bag was sitting on the kitchen counter, empty and clean. I grinned, filling it again that night, and Jason didn't offer so much as a token resistance before taking it.

A week and a half passed before he ran into Robin on patrol. Jason assured me that he had passed along my message, Damian was perfectly healthy and definitely missed me too, and he had even been forced to share the brownies I'd packed. I beamed, kissing his cheek in thanks, and we curled up in bed.

The next day, we started looking at houses online. We obviously only looked at what was available in Red Hood's territory; on top of him wanting to stay close to his patrol area, it was on the opposite side of Gotham from the well manicured lawns of Bruce's gated neighborhood and thus the perfect place to set up my clinic. Whether our home or the cave was closer, the bats would never be more than 30 minutes away from medical care. Jason took note of a few addresses he wanted to go check out, promising to swing by during patrol to see if they were securable.

“No reason to arrange a showing if I'm not gonna be able to make it safe for you.” He kissed my forehead, wrapping an arm around my waist. I chuckled softly, leaning against him. I was pretty sure he was the one who would need the most security measures to feel safe in our new home, but I wasn't going to argue. The way he lit up when providing for me was too precious a sight; if I complimented his cooking he turned pink and mumbled it was nothing. I thanked him for switching over the laundry and he sighed happily, nodding. When he saw progress in my training he beamed. And when he came home safe in the early hours of the morning, all anxiety and stress melted off of him the second he was in my arms.

In a lot of ways, life was starting to feel incredibly normal. We were like the picturesque 1950’s family I'd been taught to simultaneously idealize and vilify; until the spring semester at GU started I was free to spend my time how I pleased, and with Damian's mother still in town, that mostly meant finding new ways to feel like I was giving Jason as much as he gave me. I made sure he always had enough treats in his lunches, in case Damian was out too. When Jason returned from patrol I inspected him for any small wounds my first aid knowledge would fix. I doted on him every chance I got, and he doted right back. It was wonderful, truly.

But when he left for work, and I was alone with my thoughts, the stillness in the apartment quickly became overwhelming. At first Damian's sudden absence from my life had been annoying but acceptable. But after the first couple days it started to feel like a rabid dog was using my heart as a chew toy. Why was his mother still here? What was she doing? What was she saying to him? He had been making such incredible progress; he smiled more, he initiated hugs, he accepted them more readily. He was painstakingly tearing down the walls around his feelings brick by brick. It was a difficult process, and he was being so brave, I couldn’t be prouder! But what was she doing to those walls while I was kept away?

It had been two weeks, and I was starting to wonder if she planned to stay for the holidays. I didn't want her to stay for the holidays! I had plans, and I couldn't do my plans if I couldn't go to the manor! Being barred from Wayne Manor meant no Damian, but it also meant no Steph, no Dick, no Tim, none of them! We had decided it would be best if it looked like I was just Jason's girlfriend; as far as Talia knew he was indifferent to the family, if that. So I had to appear indifferent at best as well.

I was still able to go to girls' night, because that was being held at Barbara's home. There was no reason to believe Talia would know or care about that. But I missed training with everyone. I missed finding new ways to tease Tim. I missed Dick's good natured laugh. God help me, I even missed Bruce! He pissed me off, but he was still kind to me for the most part, and he was a good trainer. I wanted things to get better with him, for Jason and Damian's sake. I wanted him to be the dad they deserved, the dad Dick believed he wanted to be. I was pretty sure he had it locked away inside him, he just needed … something. What exactly that was, I wasn't sure; maybe to see how happy Damian was with simple childhood experiences? Or to see the peace on Jason's face when we cooked together. Or maybe he needed to experience some of that for himself. But whatever he needed, I was sure he wasn't getting it, and until Talia al Ghul left I wouldn't find out.

I tried to busy myself with crafting and baking. With the winter holidays on the horizon I really should have started on presents around Halloween, especially considering how many people I was making gifts for this year. But better late than never, so I used the time alone to get started. Jason would be gone for hours, I had plenty of time. Or, I would have if not for the knock at the door.

I jumped, looking up incredulously. I wasn't expecting guests, especially this late at night. Anyone I wanted here had my phone number, and no one had called or texted. I grabbed my phone, just to be sure, but I was right - no unread texts, no missed calls. A moment later there was another knock, this one more insistent.

I grabbed one of Jason's guns and my phone, ready to call him with the push of a button, and looked through the peephole. A beautiful woman was standing at the door, an unamused look on her face. Her clothes were too elegant for this neighborhood, she definitely didn't just wander to the wrong door. I sighed, a sinking sensation in my gut as I cracked the door open just enough to reveal my face.

“... Hello?” I frowned.

She raised an eyebrow; “... is hospitality well and truly dead in this country, or are you going to invite me in?”

“At eleven o'clock at night, in this neighborhood, with an uninvited stranger on the doorstep? It’s dead. Now, would you like to introduce yourself, or should I shut the door?”

She tsked; “I am Talia al Ghul. Why have you been spending time with my son?”

I silently cursed, but forced my expression to remain bored and distrusting; “... Your son?”

“Damian …” she sighed, “I believe he's using his father's last name now, Wayne.”

“Oh, Jason's brother? He's not here.”

“Obviously not.” She snapped; “are you going to let me in?”

“Why? He's not here.”

“I know he's not here! I want to know why you've been spending so much time with him.”

“I dunno about ‘much’. I've met him.”

“You are his emergency contact at that paltry excuse for a school he is enrolled at.”

“Oh, is that what you're so upset about?” I shrugged; “'m just doing a favor for Jay by doing a favor for his dad.”

“... Elaborate.”

“Mr. Wayne is a busy man, I am not a terribly busy woman. Emergency contact at the school was a simple enough thing to take off his plate. Kinda thing that seems bigger than it actually is. He now associates me with his life being ever so slightly easier. He already associates me with Jason, ergo he now associates Jason with his life being slightly easier.”

She frowned deeply. “You are emotionally manipulating Bruce into … what, being kinder to his second son?”

“... I suppose so, yeah. Didn't really think about it that way. 'Manipulation' makes it sound so much more convoluted and … effort-full. All I did was sign a piece of paper.”

Her expression morphed into a small smirk; a very Damian-like expression. “... And you are Jason's … girlfriend?”

“Yep.”

“... Hm.” She nodded once. “... Very well then.”

“... Okaaay. … So are you like, sticking around or somethin'? Do you want to be the emergency contact now?”

“No, there is no reason for that…” she pursed her lips; “establishment to have my phone number.”

I shrugged again. “Alright… Anything else?”

“... No, I suppose not.”

“Kay. I'm goin' back to bed then. Goodbye.” I shut the door, locking it, and looked through the peephole again. She glowered at my door, seemingly considering something, and finally left.

I watched her walk away until she was entirely out of sight, then slowly retreated to the couch to text Jay.

Me: Everything is fine, do not panic; but I just met Talia. 11:20pm

Jason: I'm coming home. Don't open the door to anyone. 11:35pm

Me: 👍❤️ 11:36pm

Next ->

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Taglist (open): @jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men @cottage-worm @v1ckycheesue @roastyyytoastyyy @sarakmec @thestarcatcher7297 @stupidlyunhinged @mishkapi @mermaidgirl-11

[ozzyphim]

I'm babysitting a Very Young Kitten, and I have long since forgotten the absolute joy that a tiny kitten brings me. She is a curious, teeny teeny, playful, chaotic tiny version of an adult menace. Bonus points because she is the CUDDLIEST little lady. 13/10 I would kill God for this cat. I'm losing my mind over here

[jaylalolz]

❛ 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 ❜ . . . nicholas chavez

SUMMARY, ❝ say you’re all mine , touch me under street lights ❞ all she does is sit pretty on his famous leather seats.

A/N, love writing stuff based on songs!! request a song for me to write in my inbox

WARNINGS, none

The road stretched endlessly ahead of them, illuminated only by the flicker of passing streetlights and the glow of the dashboard. Nicholas had one hand on the wheel, the other resting possessively on her thigh. His fingers curled, gentle yet firm, tracing soft patterns against her bare skin. The car roared beneath them, the engine purring in harmony with the wild energy in the air.

She leaned back in the passenger seat, head tilted towards the open window, feeling the rush of wind through her hair. It tangled in the breeze, flying like threads of silk as she let out a carefree laugh, closing her eyes and soaking in the freedom of it all. The night was alive -wild, reckless, and entirely theirs.

Nicholas glanced over, his jaw tight, eyes dark with desire as he watched her lose herself in the moment. "You're something else, you know that?" His voice was low, rumbling over the sound of the tires skimming the asphalt. He gave her thigh a light squeeze, making her heart race even faster than the car they were speeding down the road in.

Her lips curled into a teasing smile as she turned back to him, eyes dancing with excitement. "Am I now?" She lifted a brow, her head dipping just enough to catch his gaze fully.

"Yeah," he replied, voice rough with emotion she couldn't quite name.

"Come here."

She blinked, heart stuttering for a beat, then let out a soft laugh. "What?"

His hand on her thigh moved, sliding upwards, coaxing her. "Sit on my lap. Come on."

The request sent a thrill through her. It was so dangerous, so impossible. But Nicholas—he wasn't the type to ask twice. Without hesitation, she unbuckled her seatbelt and shifted in her seat, glancing around the road, almost expecting someone to see. But it was just them, the night, and the open road. She climbed over, carefully maneuvering her way onto his lap, legs draped over his, her back pressed against his chest. She could feel the hard line of his body, the heat of him beneath her.

He laughed, the sound deep and approving. "Good girl."

His arm wrapped around her waist, steadying her as he kept his other hand on the wheel. The car barely wavered, as if this kind of recklessness was second nature to him. The wind whipped against their faces, but she didn't care. It was wild, exhilarating, every nerve in her body alive with the danger and the thrill of it all.

Her hands instinctively clung to his shoulders, and she leaned back, resting against him fully now. The heat between them was undeniable. She could feel his breath on her neck, his lips grazing her ear. "Kiss me," he murmured, the command clear and burning in her chest.

She turned her head, her lips finding his in an instant. The kiss was feverish, intense, like neither of them could get close enough, deep enough. The taste of him made her feel dizzy, lost in the rush of sensation. His hand left the wheel for a moment, cupping her face, pulling her even deeper into the kiss. It felt as though the world had stopped around them, the car forgotten, the speed irrelevant. It was just the two of them, caught up in a moment that was both dangerous and beautiful.

The car swerved slightly, pulling them back into the present, but neither of them broke apart. His hand returned to the wheel, fingers gripping tightly as they continued racing down the road, lost in each other.

She pulled away for just a moment, breathing hard, a wicked grin on her lips. "You're insane, you know that?"

He smirked, his thumb brushing over her cheek. "You love it."

And she did.

[cybergirrll]

coming home

hamzah x reader (fluff)

hey guys!! this is my first little one shot on here (sorry it’s so short😮) i used to write for someone else but kinda stopped doing that a while ago. i love writing tho and i noticed the lack of hamzah fics soo here we are!! enjoooy

the soft sound of rain pattered on the dark windows as you slowly creaked open your apartment door. the living room was empty and quiet. hamzah’s cat red jumped off of the kitchen counter and trotted over to you, purring as she rubbed against your legs. you squatted down to pet her, smiling softly.

the warm, diffused glow the few lamps in the living room emitted washed a sense of calmness over you, a relief from the bright fluorescent office lights you sat under all day. your head hurt from computer screens, deadlines, and annoying co workers. you just wanted to see your boyfriend.

“where’s your dad, huh?” you cooed softly to red, giving her one last pat before you stood up, placing your bag on the counter before making your way into the bedroom.

hamzah was sitting at his desk, his curls messy, sweater a grey-ish blue matching the light that reflected off of his glasses. his brow was furrowed, focused on the email he was typing, faint muffled music sounding from his headphones. you smirked, slowly creeping up behind him.

he nearly jumped out of his chair when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind, your laughter muffled against the soft cotton of his sweatshirt. “jesus,” he whispered, taking his headphones off.

“hi.”

“that scared me. i almost passed out.”

“don’t be dramatic.”

you glanced at his screen and realized he was in fact not writing an email, but grinding away on level 50 of some random typing game. “working hard on that?”

he chuckled, prying him off of you so he could spin his chair around, sitting you on his lap all in one swift motion. “yeah, i was gonna impress you with my awesome typing skills. i was bored, i missed you.” he smiled, brown eyes dark and sweet in the ambient lighting.

you gave him a quick kiss, a hand tangled in his curls as he spun the chair back around, facing his desk. blue jumped up onto the desk, a paw landing on the keyboard, unpausing the game and filling the type bar with a slew of jumbled letters. a big red x popped up on the screen, with an option to restart the level.

“are you kidding me…” hamzah groaned, picking up blue with one hand and giving him an angry kiss before setting him on the floor. you grinned, laying your head against his chest.

hamzah kissed your forehead. “how was your day?” his voice held a tone of sweet adoration to it now, slipping strands of your hair in between his fingers and watching as they slipped out of his grip and cascaded back onto your shoulder. he gently swept away your bangs so he could see your eyes better. “it was okay. stressful,” you mumbled, feeling safe and content.

“yeah? wanna talk about it?”

“not really, i just wanna be with you.”

“alright. yeah. that’s okay.”

hamzah smiled, still completely not over the fact you loved him, he didn’t think he would ever be.

rain torrented down on the window at a fast pace now, a pumpkin candle on the nightstand flickered and reflected onto the window, revealing the droplets of water against the dark night sky. red was asleep on the foot of the bed now as blue swatted at something invisible on the floor.

you felt completely at peace now that you were home.

[kaces-graham-crackers]

Stirring the Quiet - Hidden Verses

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: Y/N's weekend spirals into something more after a simple Instagram follow sparks nonstop texting with Jenna. As a poetry night unfolds, hidden emotions and lingering looks stir beneath the surface, leaving Y/N wondering if there’s more to Jenna’s words than she realizes.

Word Count: 2.8k

I lay sprawled out on my bed, staring at the crumpled receipt with Jenna's Instagram handle scribbled at the bottom. "Jenna has neat handwriting." Mr. Noodles had busied himself with the loose string from my hoodie, batting it around like it was the most exciting thing in the world. I couldn't help but stare at the note beneath it.

"Thanks for the coffee and conversation again, Slick."

I huffed, running a hand through my hair. It was the weekend, and The Daily Grind was closed, but my mind hadn't stopped buzzing since yesterday. I wasn't sure if it was because I spent the entire night tossing and turning or if the note and handle staring back at me were messing with my head.

Mr. Noodles rolled over next to me, biting the loose string of my hoodie. I chuckled, tugging the string away only for Mr. Noodles to pounce on it again. "You're supposed to be giving me advice, Sir," I muttered to the cat.

"Should I follow her?" I muttered aloud, glancing down at Mr. Noodles as if the cat would magically start talking. Instead, he batted the string again, completely uninterested in my words. Sighing, I pulled out my phone. "Okay, maybe I'll just look at her profile... just a quick peek."

I typed in Jenna's handle, my fingers shaking just a little as her profile popped up. Her feed included behind-the-scenes shots from sets, goofy pictures with friends, and the occasional aesthetically curated post. It was everything I expected and more, yet somehow, seeing it all made Jenna feel both distant and approachable.

I glanced at the Instagram handle again, thumb hovering over the 'follow' button. My heart thumped loudly in my ears. "Do I follow her now? Is that weird?" A nervous flutter filled my chest.

I looked at Mr. Noodles, hoping for some sort of divine intervention. I sighed and turned the phone screen toward the cat, leaning in as if he might actually give me the needed advice.

"What do you think? Follow or not?" I asked, thumb still frozen in place.

Mr. Noodles tilted his head for a moment, and before I could stop him, his paw shot out, landing directly on the screen—pressing the follow button.

My eyes widened. “Oh no… no, no, no, no! Noodles! Why—" I yelped, sitting upright, heart jumping out of my chest. I stared at the phone silently as if it might explode. Great. She's going to think I'm creepy, I panicked.

Mr. Noodles showed no remorse. Unfazed by my mini-crisis, he merely stretched out his paw, pressed it on my chest, meowed, and held it there as if to say, "Chill, human, it's just Instagram."

I laughed softly, scratching behind his ears. "I guess I did ask for your advice, boss; maybe it's not the end of the world," I replied, setting the phone down and falling back onto the pillow. The nerves from before slowly faded as Mr. Noodles curled up closer, purring contentedly.

A few minutes later, a buzz from my phone broke the silence. My heart stopped for a second as I grabbed the phone. It was Jenna.

Jenna: "I see you found my Instagram, Slick."

I sat up again, staring at the screen. Slick. That nickname was going to stick, wasn't it?

My heart was still pounding. What am I supposed to say to that? I bit my lip, staring at the screen, trying to find the perfect way to respond without sounding like I was fangirling.

Y/N: "Haha, yeah, I might have had a little nudge from Mr. Noodles. He has a knack for pressing buttons."

Jenna's response came quickly.

Jenna: "I knew Mr. Noodles had good taste. Should I be worried he's the mastermind behind everything?"

I chuckled, panic subsiding. Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as I thought.

Y/N: "Definitely. He's secretly running my life from behind the scenes."

Jenna: "Well, tell him he's doing a great job."

The conversation flowed easily after that. Jenna texted about how she was shopping with her mom and sister. I found myself smiling as I read Jenna's updates about their day. We talked about each other's Instagram pages, with Jenna casually mentioning how "quiet" my account was. She commented on some of them—photos of The Daily Grind, a bunch of funny pictures of Mr. Noodles, and random snapshots of L.A. life.

Jenna: "I didn't know you were into photography."

Y/N: "Just something I dabble in, nothing serious."

Jenna: "Well, you've got an eye for it."

Reading Jenna's message, I bit my tongue, stifling a snicker.

Y/N: "You've got an eye for a lot of things, don't you? Bet you could spot a diamond in the rough without even trying."

There was a moment of silence, a break in the rapid-fire messaging, and my brain immediately went into panic mode. As I reread my last message, my heart raced as I questioned every word. Was that flirting? Oh god, did it sound like I was flirting? Groaning internally, I debated whether to follow up or leave it alone, replaying the words repeatedly, hoping I hadn't crossed any lines.

Meanwhile, across town, Jenna stood in a boutique with her mom and sister, holding a pair of shoes, when her phone buzzed again. She glanced down at my message, a small, amused smile playing on her lips as she read it. Was that... flirting? she wondered, feeling a spark of something she couldn't quite place.

Aliyah, her younger sister, nudged her with a teasing grin. "You've been glued to that phone all day. What's up with that?"

Jenna shrugged, trying to play it off. "Nothing, just texting."

"Texting who?" Aliyah leaned in, trying to peek over Jenna's shoulder. "Come on, spill the tea! You haven't been this distracted since... ever."

Jenna quickly pulled her phone closer, shooting her sister a look. "It's not a big deal."

Aliyah raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "Uh-huh, sure. You're not fooling me. Who is it?"

Jenna smirked and shook her head. "None of your business, Aliyah."

Aliyah laughed. "Fine, keep your secrets. But I'm watching you," she teased, throwing a playful smirk as they walked away. Jenna's thoughts lingered on my message, the teasing fading into the background as she mentally filed away the moment for later.

Panicking a little, I started typing out an explanation. "I was just saying, you know, your Instagram feed is super polished. That post you did at the premiere? It definitely looks professional. Like, you've got an eye for these things."

I hit send, biting my lip as the message went through. Crisis averted, right?

But her reply came in almost immediately: "Are you flirting with me, Slick?"

My face immediately heated up. Was I? I hadn't thought so, but now… maybe? My heart raced as I stared at the words on my screen.

Frantically, I started typing again, trying to come up with something that didn't make me sound like a complete fool. My fingers danced over the keyboard as I finally typed, "Only if it's working."

I winced immediately. Did I seriously just say that? But I didn't have time to take it back because Jenna's reply popped up almost instantly: "Maybe it is ;)"

My brain short-circuited as I reread the message, swallowing hard. I needed to keep it together.

The rest of the day flew by. We texted back and forth, sometimes in rapid bursts and other times falling into a comfortable silence. I hadn't even noticed how much time we had spent texting. After cooking, I sent Jenna a quick message.

Y/N: "About to eat. What about you?"

But before I could wait for a response, Mr. Noodles let out a long, dramatic meow, reminding me of his presence—and his empty food bowl.

"Don't worry, I didn't forget about you," I muttered, hopping up to feed him.

Y/N: "Feeding Mr. Noodles before he stages a protest."

Jenna: "A well-fed Noodles is a happy Noodles."

I laughed and grabbed the little tray, setting Noodles' plate on it. "I even got the tray this time, Noodles." Noodles never ate his meals unless they were on his special tray. The cat had his dignity, after all. I took a quick selfie with Noodles eating his food in the foreground, my hoodie-clad self sitting beside him with a content smile.

Y/N: [Pic] "Noodles approves of dinner."

Jenna: "Noodles is adorable. Oh yeah, you're there too."

Gasping playfully, I put my hand on my chest and shook my head.

After dinner, I tossed my phone on the bed and stretched. Then, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, tugging at my hoodie strings.

"We've been texting all day… like we're—" The thought was abruptly halted by a text from Jenna.

Jenna: Oh, are you going to that poetry event?"

I paused. I had almost forgotten about the poetry night, but now the idea of Jenna showing up made me excited and nervous.

Y/N: "Yeah, I'll be there, "I can't get out of work that easily, sadly."

Jenna: Lol, good, because I was thinking about stopping by.

I smiled at my phone, feeling a strange excitement bubbling inside me. I mentioned the event casually, not thinking Jenna would actually show up. But here she was, considering it.

Y/N: "Yeah, come drop by! It's going to be tons of fun."

Jenna: "Fun's one way to put it…I was thinking about reading something."

I froze. Jenna Ortega, reading poetry?

Y/N: "Wait, you're gonna read something? Now I have to see this."

Jenna: "Guess you'll have something to look forward to then."

Y/N: "I guess we’ll see then. I'm heading to bed. I'll talk to you later. Goodnight!"

Jenna: "All right, get some rest. Goodnight!"

I flopped back onto my bed, my phone still in hand. Mr. Noodles, completely unbothered, was fast asleep, the very cause of my earlier crisis now resting peacefully. I gave him a light scratch on the head. "This is going to be an interesting poetry night, buddy."

A few days later, the poetry event was in full swing at The Daily Grind. The café's warm glow set the perfect stage for the poets to approach the mic. Customers sat scattered around tables, sipping lattes and nibbling on pastries, but tonight, there was no usual chatter. The air buzzed with something more—a soft, attentive silence layered with the energy of excitement and nerves.

I stood behind the counter, half-listening to the poems as I washed some dishes. My mind kept drifting back to Jenna, who'd arrived not too long ago. She was sitting in the middle of the café now, flipping through her journal, occasionally looking up when someone delivered a line that caught her interest.

I tried to focus on the cappuccino cup I was washing, but my stomach kept twisting with this weird mix of excitement and nerves. I'd never really imagined Jenna as the poetry type, but seeing her here, confident, made the idea of her reading even more intriguing. Jenna, reading poetry. Damn.

I’d finished the last of my batch of dishes when I heard the soft creak of a chair. Glancing up, I saw Jenna standing, journal in hand, making her way toward the small stage. Her steps were steady but confident, sending my heart into overdrive.

I leaned against the counter, gripping the edge as I watched her take her place at the mic. The background hum of conversation faded to nothing, and I could feel the energy shift as Jenna tapped her journal against the mic stand.

"Hi, for those who don't know me, my name is Jenna." The crowd softly erupted into a few snaps and cheers.

"This is something I've been working on for a while," Jenna started, her voice steady but carrying this vulnerable edge. "I don't usually share my poetry, but… here goes nothing."

My breath caught in my chest. The café was silent now, except for the faint hiss of the espresso machine in the background. My attention was fixed on Jenna.

She flipped open her journal, her fingers gently brushing over the worn pages. She took a deep breath and began to read:

"There's a space between silence and sound, Where words get caught, Lingering like an echo that never fades, A warmth that lingers in the coldest moments. It’s like a whisper I can't quite grasp, But somehow, it stays with me."

Her voice was soft but sure, each word hanging in the air like it belonged there. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, feeling my chest tighten as her words seemed to reach out and pull me in. The room felt smaller, more intimate, like it was just the two of us.

"There's a light that breaks through the quiet, A glow that touches everything in its path. And when it touches me, I feel—"

She paused, glancing up from her journal, and her eyes landed on me. For a heartbeat, we locked eyes, and I swear my heart stuttered.

"I feel like I could stay in that light forever," she finished, her voice dropping into something softer, almost like it was just for me.

The room stayed quiet for a beat, the kind of quiet that follows something that just hits everyone right where it counts. Soft applause and snaps slowly filled the space, but I barely registered it. I was too busy trying to breathe, trying to shake the feeling that maybe—just maybe—that line had been meant for me.

Jenna closed her journal with a soft thud, her eyes scanning the room as she smiled nervously. I joined in the clapping, my hands slightly trembling. That line—"I could stay in that light forever." Damn, she had me more shaken than I wanted to admit.

Jenna stepped off the stage, her face still flushed as she sat at the counter where I stood. I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until I let out a shaky laugh.

"Not bad for a movie star," I managed to say, my voice betraying me.

Jenna looked up at me, a smile tugging at her lips. "You didn’t think I had it in me, huh?"

I chuckled, rubbing the back of my neck. "No, I just… didn’t expect it. But yeah, you really had something there."

Jenna raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by how flustered I was. "Thanks, Slick. Maybe one day I’ll share the rest with you."

My throat tightened. I shook my head, laughing nervously. "Only if you want to! No rush or pressure."

She leaned in a little, her smile still teasing. "Yeah, I don’t mind. I guess I’m full of surprises."

Before I could reply, our hands brushed as I reached for a stray napkin left by a patron. That small touch sent a spark through me, my heart racing. Jenna’s fingers lingered just a second longer than necessary before her face grew redder, and she reached into her bag, pulling out a small, leather-bound journal.

"This," Jenna said, "is what I’ve been working on."

My eyes widened. "That’s amazing. Looks like a real book already."

Jenna smiled, running her fingers over the cover. "I’ve been working on a collection of affirmations and positive vibes. Something people can read to start their day off right."

I lit up. "That’s incredible! You should write a poem about The Daily Grind. You know, as an ode to caffeine and good vibes."

Jenna froze for a second, her blush deepening. "I—um—yeah, I could do that," she stammered.

I tilted my head, a little concerned. "You all right? You don’t have to if you're not up for it. I just thought you really enjoyed the café. It always seems to relax you."

Jenna let out a nervous laugh as she fidgeted with her journal. "Just a few after-butterflies. The crowd can be overwhelming sometimes... even for a big movie star," she said, her voice quieter than usual, clearly nervous.

I smiled, trying to ease the tension. "Come on, I know just the spot where you can get some air."

I led Jenna out to the back patio, the view of the city spreading out before us. The twinkling lights of L.A. cast a soft glow over the horizon, making everything feel a little more magical. It was quieter here, away from the usual hum of the café, just the two of us. The noise of the poetry event faded, leaving behind the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Jenna leaned back in her chair, staring out at the view, her journal resting on her lap. She seemed more at ease now, her earlier nervousness gone. I couldn’t help but watch her, still in awe of how someone like her could feel so grounded, sitting next to me like this.

I started humming softly, letting the cool night air relax me. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Jenna turn her head slightly, listening. Her eyes softened.

“You’ve got a beautiful voice, Y/N,” Jenna said, her voice gentle.

I glanced down at my hands, caught off guard. “Thanks. I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”

“You should sing more,” Jenna added. “It suits you.”

I smiled but didn’t respond immediately. Instead, I leaned back, closing my eyes for a moment, letting the peaceful atmosphere sink in. The night wrapped around us, soft and still. The only sound was the breeze weaving through the trees, and our quiet breathing.

Eventually, Jenna broke the silence. “I used to take acting classes as a kid. I thought it was fun, but it was also a lot of work. Everyone thinks it’s all glam, but it’s really not.”

I opened my eyes and looked over at her. “Yeah? I remember wanting to be a star when I was younger. My parents got me singing lessons, but I ended up with a lazy talent agent who only got me background roles in a few plays and on the occasional TV or movie set.”

Jenna chuckled lightly, her smile a little mischievous. “Hey, that’s how it starts. You’ve got to work your way up. Hollywood isn’t like the movies—there’s no fairy tale moment where someone discovers you walking down the street.”

I laughed with her. “Guess I’ll stick to making lattes.”

Jenna grinned, her eyes sparkling in the dim light. “You’re good at that, too.”

As we continued talking, it felt like the world outside the patio didn’t exist anymore. It was just me and Jenna, the stars above us, and the quiet stillness of the night. We traded stories—nothing deep or profound, but it was effortless. Like we’d known each other longer than we actually had.

There was something calming about being with Jenna, something that made me feel like I didn’t have to rush or worry. Just being in the moment was enough.

Jenna took a deep breath, breaking the quiet. “I guess that’s what I love about acting… it lets me escape for a while, but it’s not always what people think.”

I tilted my head, listening carefully. “Yeah? What do people get wrong about it?”

She paused, her fingers tracing the edges of her journal absentmindedly. “They only see the glam, the red carpets, and the premieres. But they don’t see the long hours, the rejection, or how hard you have to work just to land a role. It can get exhausting.”

I nodded. "I feel you. Sometimes, everyone only sees the end result and forgets all the effort it took to get there."

Jenna smiled, a little softer this time. “Exactly. I think that’s why I like moments like this… when everything’s quiet, and I can just be myself. No cameras, no expectations.”

My chest tightened a little at her words. There was a vulnerability there, a side of Jenna I hadn’t seen before. I nodded, feeling the weight of the conversation settle between us. “Yeah… moments like this are pretty rare.”

She looked at me then, her eyes lingering just a little longer than usual, like she was trying to figure me out. It was quiet again, but this time, the silence felt different—deeper.

Eventually, I spoke up, trying to lighten the mood. “You know, you really should write that poem about The Daily Grind. You’ve got to immortalize this place in poetry.”

Jenna laughed, the sound soft but full of warmth. “Okay, okay, I’ll think about it.”

We both sat there for a little while longer, the city lights twinkling around us like stars had spilled onto the ground. It was one of those rare moments where everything just felt… right. I didn’t want it to end, but as the night deepened, I knew we’d have to head back soon.

But for now, I was content to just sit there, with Jenna beside me, the world quiet around us.

[the-moth-archives]

୨ৎ Fem Wolverine - SFW HCs ୨ৎ

Type: Fluff, fem wolverine x fem presenting person

Word Count: 415

Notes: hello !! thank u for all the love on my other wolverine posts :D Fem wolverine has been on my mind and i wrote all of these late at night </3 sorry if i misspelled anything !!

Masterlist

- she loves you so so so much omg she will do anything for you

- she’s the ‘hands in her pockets, scowling at everyone and only smiling softly at you when you talk to her’ kinda girlfriend

- she loves buying you things. even if you glance at something for a few seconds longer, it’s already in her hands and she’s at the register

- she loves when you sit on her lap or between her thighs where your back is to her chest, no matter your size. sometimes when you walk into the room, she looks up at you and just man spreads so you can fit in her lap

- to get her attention right away, pull on her belt or jean belt loops; she’s full attention on you and only you for the rest of the night

- when she comes home to you, she loves to shove her face in your chest and just inhale deeply. bonus points if you’re wearing a tank top where she can feel your skin on hers

- she’s a big chest person; always grabbing at you (it doesn’t matter if you do or don’t have a chest for her to grab, she’ll find a way. TRUST.)

- she loves when you get your nails done because then she gets to feel your nails on her skin and scratching her scalp when you drift off to sleep. she loves it when you slowly drag your nails up and down her arms when you cuddle

- she hates baths… unless you’re with her. she’s usually behind you while you lay your back to her chest, her arms resting on the sides of the tub as she drinks a beer and you with a mug / cup of your drink of choice

- you definitely have matching stuff. matching keychains, matching necklaces, matching bracelets. she’ll even let you paint her nails black just to match with whatever color you like

- even if she loves treating and pampering you, pls do it to her too !! she will melt immediately and become a big purring mess

“you always treatn’ me so well… my good girl.” she mumbles into your chest, sneaking her hands up your shirt to rub mindlessly at your stomach. you hum with a smile when you feel her hands; she’s always a sucker for skin to skin. you run your fingers through her hair.

“you always treat me so well, Lo. you deserve some love too.”

- i just wanna be called “good girl” by fem Logan, pls.

[lilywastaken]

now hear me out: witch hunter!ghost x witch!reader...

he's visiting a town with the rest of his team to investigate a claim that there might be witches running rampant around the small countryside village, only to fall victim to a resident's charm while they conduct interviews.

she's a sweet woman who insists on curing the scratches that he's gathered across their travels, using tonics and herbs from her cute little garden and letting him pet her pet cat, who seems to have taken liking to the dark and imposing man, rubbing it's little black body against his boots and purring when he leans down to scratch under its chin.

it doesn't even clock in his mind how every single detail about you and your life correlates exactly with the obvious signs of a witch, but he's too spellbound with you to even realise.

he informs the others that none of the people he's talked to seem to have made the infamous deal with the devil, but due to the panicked way the leader of the community had written to them, they decide to stay to investigate further, staying in the small inn near the outskirts of town and luckily for simon, near your cottage.

despite the clear liking he's taken to you, he's still as emotionless and snarky as he would be with anyone else, and his chest tightens every time you laugh or giggle out loud at one of his dark jokes, most unladylike for any other woman, but you don't seem to care to hide your snorts or amusement around him, something he completely adores.

he insists on helping you with your garden, claiming you have no need to get your hands dirty when he's used to doing dirty work (both taking lives and tending to his own garden back home), sitting at your kitchen and watching you make the tonics and medicine you help treating anyone who has fallen ill in the village, standing close by whenever someone comes in with an injury, absolutely in awe at how they're cured almost immediately, thanking you gratefully before leaving. although, he does not miss the dirty glares some of your neighbours send you when they think you're not watching, making him grow confused, not understanding why they would harbour such feelings towards someone as kind and helpful as you.

it's not until he's taking a break at the pub, listening to gaz drawl on about some thing or another, when he catches wind of two women's conversation, frowning beneath the leather mask he wears in distaste has he takes in their poisioned words.

"-making moves on my poor husband. i swear, she's put some type of spell on him, that vile witch."

"oh, i know! my brother told her off last monday and guess what!? the next day, he fell off the roof and broke his leg! bloody bitch probably cursed him!"

"gosh, i cannot wait until those hunters finally get her! i have no idea how she's managed to evade their suspicions, she's done nothing to hide herself!"

"well, by the way that masked man has been loitering around her home, we'll be lucky to have a burning at the end of the week!"

they both laugh, the high pitch shrieks that they let out enough to make the glass in simon's hand shatter, shoving his seat back and leaving a dumfounded gaz in the pub alone as he walked away.

the splintering wooden door slams open as he shoves himself into your cottage, dark eyes landing on your crouched figure and then the second one, body freezing as he makes eye contact with his captain.

"simon." the man grunts, alerting you of your favourite visitor's presence as you pull back from the wound on his leg you were treating, a sweet smile on your lips.

"simon!" you repeat, cleaning your hands with the bucket of water next to you, wiping away the dried blood in the rags as price sends a warning look to his subordinate, the blond furrowing his brows in confusion, before the conversation he'd overheard before came to mind.

no.

no, price didn't know.

and, god, no, you weren't one of them.

you... no. no.

"let's get going. thank you for the help, miss." his whole body went into autopilot as price pushes him out of the cottage, the short wave and caring smile you sent his way the last thing he saw before the door was slammed shut.

neither of the men spoke on their trek back to the inn, and simon did not sleep a wink that night, terrified of what would happen in the coming days.

surprisingly, there was nothing. no finding of stakes, no gathering of firewood, no detainment of you.

so maybe, price hadn't picked up on you. even though simon was still convinced you were not one of those.

until after a few days of pouring rain, simon wakes up to a cold room and the absence of johnny, who he knows for a fact that never woke up before him unless forced to, something he'd learned after years of sharing the same room with the scot.

and as he walks out into the muddy roads, that oh-so familiar smell hits his nose.

the burning of wood, of grass, of cloth, of human.

his heart dropped into his stomach, following the trail of ashes that had blown across the roads until he arrives at the town square, the burning piece of wood in Gaz's hand along with the flames consuming the hay and grass that lay across the ground of the plaza, the fire slowly consuming your beautiful white dress he'd seen you sew barely days ago.

simon barely takes notice of price coming towards him, attempting to hold him back from rushing into the crowd simply staring up at you, your eyes falling down upon his struggling body, your face going from the calm expression it had been in to shock, pulling at your tied up wrists instinctively in a frail attempt to rush towards him.

"simon...!" you breathe out, soot entering your lungs as you inhale, tears filling your eyes from the burn as you watch him wrestle out of his captain's grip, his boots stomping against the rocky ground as he shoved past the gawkers, leather slamming against the kindle, ignoring his team's shouts and the fire burning his clothes and skin, reaching the stake you were tied to, his face out in the open due to the way he'd rushed out of his room, dark eyes reflecting the flames that were taking you both.

his shaky hands come behind you to untie the ropes around your arms, caging you with his body and allowing you to rest your head against his shoulder, tears streaming down your cheeks as you look down at the burns forming across his legs.

"stop." you pleade, trying to push him away with your chest. "stop, simon, stop...!"

"shut up!" he snaps, throwing the ropes into the fire as they came undone, letting you collapse into his arms as you were let free, your hands gripping his dress shirt. "you're going to be okay, we need to-"

his voice broke as he looks down at your sunken eyes, your lips dry and cracked as if you'd just ran a marathon, but looking down at your intact legs and burning dress, he realises where all your energy had gone.

"simon.."

no.

"please, stop-"

no. you....

"you're going to die, simon, please!"

you couldn't be...

"i won't be able to save you, simon, listen to me!"

you were wailing at this point, trying to push his body down the small burning hill, but his body doesn't budge.

"simon!" his captain's grating voice pulls him out of his stupor, his hands growing tighter around your waist as he locks gazes with the furious looking man, your wails becoming static in his ears as he doesn't think twice as his now blistering hands pulled your legs up, letting you grasp onto his neck instinctively as he holds you bridal style, ignoring the searing pain rushing through his body.

"simon, don't, don't you dare!" you scream, the first time he's heard you raise your voice at him. "please, i'm not worth saving, you know what i am! i don't deserve to live!"

liar. you... you were worth everything.

you were worth the burns on his body, the destruction of his ideals and the pain the mere sight of you in tears gave him.

he doesn't care what you are.

you're... a witch. what he swore to destroy and what he has been hunting for over a decade.

but you're not... you're... not evil.

maybe none of them were, maybe if he'd taken the time to get to know the women they'd burnt before he'd have realised sooner, that you were just people.

and he wasn't going to let you get hurt. maybe it was a bit selfish or ironic, but he didn't care. he'd take you away from this town, from his colleagues, from the pain, let you live in peace somewhere were no one would bother you.

and if you let him, he'd come with you too.

he ignores price's shouts about the so called spell you'd put on him and as he looks down at your shivering body in his arms, the way you're curling into him, the way you were wailing for him to save himself moments ago, he couldn't...

even if you had put some type of spell on him, he didn't care. never had he felt like this. and yes, he'd deal with the consequences of this later, but for now, as he runs through the forest with your trembling body in his arms, he couldn't care less.

he isn't going to let anyone hurt you any more than they have.

(brainrot for this idea is open please 🗣️)

[holylulusworld]

BFG (9)

Summary: He’s new to town and just your type…

Pairing: Reacher x Plussized!Reader

Warnings/Tags: pregnancy, fluff, light smut (unprotected), love confessions

Catch up here: BFG (8)

BFG masterlist

He watched you move on top of him with adoration in his eyes. Reacher carefully held your hips in a soft grip to help you guide your movement.

With your knees spread wide and your hands flat on the mattress, you slowly rocked forward and back while moving your hips down onto him on the downstroke.

“Fuck, peach pie. You look so beautiful on top of me,” he watched you place your hand on his wide chest to peck his lips. “I want you to take what’s yours.”

“You’re already mine,” you kiss him again, “aren’t you? You came back to me.” You whined feelings his cock twitch inside of you. “I want you to come inside of me, my big friendly giant.” You purred against his lips. “Please, baby.”

You already came twice and wanted nothing more than to feel him fill you up again.

“I could cum only by watching you ride me like the fiery woman you are,” he rumbled close to his release and dropped his hands from your hips to cup your face. “Peach pie, you fuck me so good.” Reacher purred as his warmth filled you.

“Wow,” you stopped moving, and carefully laid down on his chest to catch your breath. “That was…amazing.”

“You are amazing,” he whispered while running his big hand up and down your back. “I can’t believe you took me back after I left.”

“We didn’t part on bad terms, Reacher. I knew about your hobo lifestyle before you left,” you sniffled. “I just missed you so much. It’s crazy that I fell for you so hard in such a short time. You gave me the best thing ever happening in my life.”

“You gave me something I haven’t had in a long time,” his voice shook for a second, and you lifted your head from his chest to look him in the eyes.

“Food and a bed big enough for my giant?” You giggle. “Or mind-blowing sex.”

“A family,” he softly said, “and a place I want to return to. I was a hobo all my life, but now I found home in you, and our baby.”

“Reacher,” you sniffled and struggled to push the tears away. “You…I love you.” Before you could cry and ruin the moment, you hid your face in his neck.

“I love you too, peach pie, and, yes, the bed too,” he chuckles while you shed a few happy tears. “It’s very stable. I think we should test its quality some more in the morning…”

“I see you kept him,” Frances dipped her head to watch Reacher sit on his seat at your diner. He smirked the moment you placed a plate with a slice of peach pie in front of him. “I guess you came back because she feeds you well.”

“You’re still around. Why?” Reacher glanced at Neagley and furrowed his brows. “I thought you said you’d leave town after I arrived.”

“I only made sure that you do not chicken out,” she replied and shrugged. “You know, to find out if I must hunt you down.”

“You stayed to get more cereals out of Y/N,” he smirked at her for a second before turning his attention toward the peach pie. “I came back for my peach pie.” He looked at the pie in front of him. “The pie is only a bonus.”

“Was that a dirty joke from you, Reacher?” She glanced at him, smirking. “Seriously? Major Reacher made a dirty joke.”

“I can be funny,” he grumbled. Reacher didn’t want you to believe that he’s a grump and has no sense of humor. If you believe he’s only good at repairing things and hurting people, you could change your mind and chase him away.

“Uh-huh,” Frances nodded slowly. “Sure, you can be funny, Reacher.”

“So, you two know each other from work. Have you been in contact for the whole time or,” you watched Reacher tense. He didn’t stay in contact with the rest of his former team. The only one he stayed in contact with was Neagley.”

“Reacher is not the kind of guy sending Christmas cards,” Frances hastily explained. “But if you need him, he’s there. You don’t have to explain anything. He jumps into a bus or airplane and comes to your rescue.”

You placed your hand on Reacher’s, giving him a soft smile. He was tense after your question, and you regretted opening your mouth. Sometimes you just can��t stop yourself. “He’s a protector, and I couldn’t be happier having him around.”

Reacher visibly relaxed at your words. He knew by now that you’re not the kind of person who tells lies to make other people more comfortable.

“I love me a man who can eat too,” you gently ran your fingertips over Reacher’s hand while looking him deep in the eyes. “Especially when the person is willing to give something up to make another person happy.”

Neagley nods. She’s happy for Reacher, even if he’s sometimes a big and grumpy Klotz. – Or rather, most of the time. He holds a special place in her heart and knows that somehow, she wormed her way into his heart too.

“You should reconsider your decision,” Frances laughs. “He’ll eat all your food, and did you see his size? You’ll never have enough space in your house again.”

“He can keep me warm in winter too. I like it cozy,” you smiled at him while squeezing his hand. “I think Reacher made my grandmother’s house a home.”

Tags in reblog.

[oliwrites]

Emerald Green

pairing: loki x f!reader

genre: smut and lil bit of fluff

summary: you are getting ready for your girls night with wanda and natasha, whenever you realize that you forgot your shoes in your bedroom that you share with loki…

warnings: CONTAINS SMUT 18+ (minors and pearl clutchers, fuck off), dom/sub dynamics, reader being a lil brat, slight knife play, bdsm (blindfolds and handcuffs), wax play, spanking, occasional softdom!loki, aftercare during??

A/N: my neighbors have been setting fireworks off for hours and it’s annoying and loud as hell and i want to strangle someone

word count: 2.6k

You sat in front of your mirror in Natasha’s en-suite bathroom, toying with the strap of your emerald green cocktail dress. You scanned yourself in the mirror, admiring how the velvet material easily wrapped around the curve of your hips and chest, complimenting the dip of your waist. You smiled at yourself in the mirror, adoring the look of the dress as it was practically plastered to your body, You gazed down toward the end of the dress, the ending being at the middle of your supple thighs. The velvet material ended and the nylon material of your sheer, black tights ran down the expanse of your legs, making your legs look longer. Your ring clad fingers smoothed out the slight wrinkles in your dress. You wore gold rings, simple yet cute, to accompany the golden necklace that was adorned by a single emerald, which laid delicately in between your clavicles.

“Damn, I look good,” You said to yourself, slightly turning your head to look at the bun you put up in your hair. You let loose a few strands, wanting to achieve a ‘seductive lazy’ type of hairstyle, which you feel you captured quite well.

“Damn, I might have to steal you from Loki, especially if you dress like that,” Natasha smirked, slapping your ass playfully. You jumped at the sudden action, but smiled at her reflection in the mirror behind you. Natasha laughed as she grabbed a pair of earrings she had sitting on the sink just in front of you.

“Is that a threat or a promise, Romanoff?” You smirked back, not able to contain the smile on your face.

“It can be both,” Natasha laughed, wiggling her eyebrows at you through the mirror, “I’m gonna get my shoes and we can head out, okay?” Natasha chirped, stepping out of the bathroom.

“Oh shit! I forgot my shoes in my room, I’m gonna go get those and I’ll be back. Just wait for me in the commons, okay?” You exclaimed rushing out of her bathroom and to the door of her room.

“Sounds good, just don’t take too long with Loki,” Natasha said with a wink. You rolled your eyes at her suggestive comment, and slipped out of her room.

You padded your nylon covered feet down the compound hallway, approaching yours and Loki’s shared bedroom.

You opened the door to see your lover sitting on your guys’ shared bed, reading what appears to be an aged book. He had a pair of black sweatpants hanging low on his hips, showing off the chiseled ‘v’ that trailed down to his crotch, his shirt was long discarded leaving him in just the sweatpants. You smiled and walked in, closing the door behind you.

“Hello, my l— what are you wearing?” Loki started, but was surprised to see you dressed up so… appealingly.

“This?” You asked, causing the Nordic God to nod, “this is just a dress me and Nat picked up today when we went out. I wanted to wear it to the club tonight with Wanda and Nat,” you explained, smiling when you noticed Loki’s hungry eyes scan over your body as he slightly licked his lips. You began walking over to where your matching emerald green heels laid neatly on the ground. You bent over and strapped the heels onto your feet before standing back up and brushing away any new wrinkles before turning to face your lover.

“Well? How do I look?” You asked, stretching your arms out to your side, doing Loki’s signature pose.

“You look ravishing, darling,” Loki purred, closing the book on his lap and placing it gracefully on the nightstand next to the bed and standing up, “However, I will not allow you to go out dressed like that,” Loki continued, his eyes once again raking over your body.

“Really, Loki? I literally got this dress for tonight! I’m supposed to match with Nat and Wanda!” You exclaimed, flailing your arms around, hoping that they will help make your point.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, love, but I will not allow you to wear something so revealing. Your body is for my eyes only,” Loki replied with faux sympathy, stepping closer and closer towards you.

“Oh yeah? What are you going to do if I don’t change?” You taunted. You knew you were fueling the fire, however, you found yourself not caring about that at this moment. The look he gave you was pure sin and almost instantly soaked your lace panties.

“Do you truly wish to find out?” Loki whispered into your ear, his warm breath fanning across your cheek, causing a blush to arise across your face. All you could do was nod, truly wanting whatever he had in store for you.

Before you could blink, you felt a cold metal slicing the dress clean off your back, leaving you in just your tights and underwear (the dress not needing a bra). You gasped as the dagger Loki has summoned traced your clavicle with such delicacy. Words could not explain how aroused you are at this moment.

“Do you still wish to test me?” Loki spoke with lust covering his words like honey.

“I had a feeling you would do that, so I bought another one,” You bluffed, turning away from him and began to walk away, trying your best to hide your arousal.

“Try again,” Loki tsked into your ear as the dagger in his hand now rested softly on your throat as his other arm wrapped firmly around your waist.

“No. Bite me.” You snapped back, and before you could take that back you heard Loki laugh sadistically behind you.

“If you insist,” Loki hummed, biting down on the apex of your shoulder and your neck. Sucking and nipping at the skin harshly. You couldn’t help but let out a weep of pleasure as he attacked your neck and shoulder. You were so lost in the painful pleasure of Loki biting your neck that you didn’t realize his hand dipped below the nylon of your tights and the cotton of your panties.

“Fuck—” you moaned out as Loki began circling your clit with slow fingers. Your knees buckled, which would’ve dragged you to the floor if Loki had not been there to catch you. You reached your hand around to the back of Loki’s head, pulling on his soft locks, telling him that you wanted more. You couldn’t help but shiver at the feeling of him growling against your abused skin.

“Don’t be a greedy slut,” Loki demanded into your neck, placing a firm slap to your sex, causing you to let out a yelp.

“I’m sorry…” you whimpered out before he continued his attack on your neck and cunt. Loki slipped two fingers into you with ease as he began pumping his fingers in and out of you hastily. You shrieked out his name, clawing your nails into the skin of his forearm that held you up against him.

“You mewl so beautifully, my love,” Loki whispered into your ear before biting on your earlobe as he quickened the pace of his fingers. You scream out once again, feeling your orgasm bubbling up in the pit of your stomach.

“Loki, I—” Your warning was cut off by another moan as two of his free fingers pinched your bundle of nerves.

“Don’t you dare fucking cum,” Loki demanded in your ear, keeping the breakneck pace of his fingers. Apparently, that demand was all that it took to release all over him and your panties and tights with a scream of his name.

Loki ripped his hand away from your sensitive cunt. You wouldn’t help the whine that fell from your lips at the loss of contact. You stared at Loki as he let go of your waist and walked towards the foot of the bed, sitting down and staring right back at you with those emerald green eyes, which now looked almost black and clouded with lust.

“Come here,” he commanded simply, patting his lap. You began to walk towards him before he stopped you, “Take off your tights and panties first,” Loki added on. You obeyed, not wanting to fuel the fire anymore. You slowly shuffled the tights down your legs and the panties followed soon after. He nodded and you continued toward him.

Clearly, you approached him too slowly and he ended up just yanking you towards him and laid you down across his lap. You couldn’t help but gulp at the realization that he was going to spank you.

“Now,” Loki began, gently rubbing his large hand over your ass, causing you to shiver, “I am going to spank you, and everytime you are going to thank me for it, understand?” Loki explained, you could only nod. “Words, pet. I’m not going to begin until I have your verbal consent,” Loki said, his usual softness coming back for a brief moment.

“Yes, Loki. I understand,” You confirmed, looking up at your lover. He smiled and gave you a quick, yet soft, kiss.

Smack!

You yelped and jumped on his lap at the unexpected contact against your ass, “Thank you!” You screeched out gripping onto his clothed thighs for support.

Smack!

“T-Thank you!” You stuttered, a tear already forming in your eyes.

He continued his brutal attack, each slap getting more and more painful, however you continued to thank him for it, you enjoyed his harsh treatment and he knew you did. He knew those mascara stained tears that ran down your flushed cheeks were tears of pleasure, and he would happily give you the painful pleasure that you want, that you deserve.

“Look at you, so soaked for me, even after I bruised your ass, such a dirty girl,” Loki purred as he ran his fingers up your soaked folds, gathering your slickness between his fingers, “suck” he demanded as he brought his coated fingers up to your mouth. You complied, sucking his fingers clean.

Loki simply massaged your bruising ass with his other hand as you cleaned off his fingers. The pain of the contact caused you to flench.

“Loki..” You mewled, wanting more, wanting him, but you also knew you needed a slight break. He chuckled.

“I know, my love, I’m getting there,” He responded, sitting you up on his lap. He wiped the tears away from your cheeks and brushed the loose strands away from your face, “I love you, my darling girl, you are doing so good for me,” Loki spoke softly, kissing your lips softly.

When he pulled away you laid your head onto his naked shoulder and buried yourself into the crook of his neck. He magicked up a glass of water, “my life,” he acknowledged you, causing you to look up at him, “drink, please, you’ll need it,” Loki pleaded, guiding the glass toward you. You opened your mouth and let Loki pour the cold water down your throat.

“Thank you,” You said after finishing the glass of water. Loki smiled and kissed you once more before turning you around and laying you on your back. Your back met the plush covers of the bed and almost immediately sunk into the warm embrace around you.

“Are you ready?” Loki asked sweetly, caressing your face.

“Yes, Loki, do as you wish,” You nodded, tracing the ripples of muscle on the expanse of his torso with your nails.

“Always so eager to please me, like a bitch in heat,” He chuckled, every ounce of softness leaving his voice.

“Of course,” You replied, trying to fight the urge to rock yourself against his erection that strained against the material of his sweatpants

“So you wouldn’t mind being blindfolded and bound, hm? It is what would please me,” he sneered, magicking a black blindfold and a set of handcuffs.

“If it is what you pleasure, then yes,” You replied, looking up at him with pure lust. He smiled maliciously at you, and before you knew it, your vision was cutoff, and so was the ability to move your arms freely.

You expected him to do something immediately, but he didn’t. He just sat there and admired you beneath him. Blindfolded, binded, and covered in his marks. It drove him mad with lust, but he wasn’t exactly ready to fuck you just yet.

“Loki?—” you asked before being cut off by the feeling of something burning your skin. It wasn’t a sharp pain, just a dull and arousing pain. Then you realized, he was pouring candle wax on you.

Droplets of the hot wax trailed up from your navel up to your heaving breasts. Your back arched at the pain as the hot wax neared your nipples.

“Perhaps I should send you out like this,” Loki started, “covered in candle wax, blindfolded, cuffed, and absolutely aching for my cock,” Loki snarled as he gyrated his clothed hips into your needing cunt, causing you to cry out.

“Please, Loki! I need you!” You begged struggling against the handcuffs. You heard him chuckle, but you failed to see what he was doing, before you could start begging again, he slammed himself into you, “Fuck! Loki! Thank you!” You screamed out.

“Norns… you’re so… tight…” Loki hissed as he started on a rough pace against you.

Loki continued to moan out your name as he continued to pound into you. You began struggling against the bonds once more as you just wanted to touch him, to rake your nails down his back.

Loki began circling your clit with his fingers as he began to edge you to your orgasm, he felt the clench around him, but he continued on his pace.

“Loki!” You screamed out, trying to form a warning, but all that came out was his name. He bent down and kissed your lips, silently giving you permission to cum. His cock hit that one spot deep inside you, causing you to release all over him and his abdomen.

Loki followed through with his orgasm not long after, pumping himself deep inside of you. He stilled for a few moments before pulling out of you.

“Are you okay?” Loki asked as the bonds and blindfold disappeared before your eyes, “was the wax too much? I’m sorry,” Loki began to worry, as that was something he had never done before and probably should’ve confirmed it with you first.

“Loki, I’m perfect, the hot wax actually aroused me even more. Don’t worry, my love,” You smiled, leaning up to him and pecking his lips.

He graciously accepted your kiss and kissed you back with more passion for the woman he fell so desperately in love with.

The moment was broken when you heard your phone ding.

“One second,” You sighed and patted Loki’s pectoral, signaling him to move so you could get your phone. He listened, allowing you up.

You picked up your phone and scanned the text you received on your screen.

natasha‼️

“considering you didn’t come back and that i heard you guys that you won’t be coming to the club with us anymore so have fun with your horndog of a boyfriend😉”

You gasped and turned back to your boyfriend. Now remembering that you had your girls night tonight, and Loki had just now fucked you right out of it.

“Loki you asshole!”

[oistak]

here’s a request: how about Valentino x hyena reader? So I’m thinking, Valentino would try to seduce reader and get em to work in his industry but hyena reader just lets out random loud cackles and has a constant creepy smile on their face. Then in one moment, Hyena reader tries to bite Valentino and Valentino is just fucking scared.

laughing with the devil

stop omgg i love animal reader x hazbin mennnn aughh <33

#cw: swears, suggestive, mentions of porn, valentino is a bit ooc

Sinners and succubi mingled under the glow of the neon signs that were plastered across the wall, their flirts and whispers drowned out by the music. In a booth roped off with velvet and plush leather seats, val sat, surrounded by whores who were trying to coax him into giving them roles. while he was listening to the girl sitting across from him spiel on about her first-hand experiences in his industry, he notices hyena in the next booth. 

val had barely even glanced at her and yet his mind had already started into the types of films hyenas body would look good in. 

pushing a girl off his lap he strode into hyenas booth, she looked up at him still stirring her drink, with a wide smile plastered across her face, he boldly put his legs up atop the table “cariño you have a job?” val purred, taking a drag of his cigarette “I have discovered many~ stars, amor” reaching across the table, val traced his fingers down the side of hyenas face.

hyena took one look at val, swiped his hand away and burst out laughing, her ears twitching wildly. taken aback val took his legs off the table, val was not used to people speaking to him in any disgraceful manner, “what are you laughing at slut” he snapped. hyena clutched her chest in pain and howled laughing, falling over onto her side. 

“you don’t want to taunt me you whore” val growled, a lot less confidently “many girls would kill to have a role in one of my films” 

hyena kept cackling “yo-you your lanky ass is a pimp-”  Val's face turned red with anger. He stood up, his chair scraping against the floor, and grabbed hyena by the collar. "You don't get to talk to me!" he snarled. Staring right at him she sank her teeth into his skinny hand, blood quickly pricked out of the bite mark, horrified, val let go of hyena, and she fell to the floor. He stormed back to the vip section, leaving hyena laughing hysterically.

[roadkillxd]

❝ soap pun. ❞

GHOST ANON REQUEST IS NEXT!! I just could not get this out of my fucking head...

Soap x FTM!Reader ↪ 1892 words — 18+ / SMUT.

Content tags — trans male submissive reader, cis male dominant Soap,  unsafe sex, fem terms used for trans male reader’s genitals, mild overstimulation, referenced/implied transphobia, reference to a interrogation/torture scene, mention of pregnancy, vaguely established relationship, Cpt. Price’s trans ex-girlfriend, cunninglingus, pussy worship, very mild breeding kink, mild size kink, penetrative sex, and vaginal sex. 

You and Soap had gotten rather close over the last few weeks or so—ever since he nearly compromised the mission in El Sin Nombre’s compound (the one you’d insisted on going with him on) just because of Valeria getting a little handsy with you following her purred “I like this one.”

She hadn’t appreciated Soap growling to stay away from you, and in all honesty Soap hadn’t planned on saying anything until the words were out of his mouth. It wasn’t until after he realized he’d been jealous. Protectively so. Luckily, things had worked out, and the two of you escaped with El Sin Nombre relatively unharmed.

However, Soap wasn’t a man to sit and wait on those types of feelings. After things had died a bit down with the Al Qutala–Narcos–Russians fiasco he’d pursued you, and you’d happily let him. 

It was really the same old same old, just without the rest of the squad. The two of you at the bar together, or playing poker in either of your quarters. A few nights spent in each other's cots. You’d kissed a few times, heatedly made out once. Testing the waters.

Of course, until now. Johnny had hit the shower after sparring with Ghost and couldn’t stop thinking about you—had marched his way right to your quarters. It was late, but not late enough for you to be asleep. 

You hadn’t had the chance to tell Soap about your… situation. Price was the only one who knew taskforce wise, and he made sure it stayed a need-to-know basis type of thing. Doctors and certain higher-ups and the like. 

But Price accommodated you. Let you use his private shower so you wouldn’t be subjected to the group ones. Said he’d had a girlfriend years and years ago that had been trans—said he’d started and ended enough bar fights protecting her, and that he wasn’t particularly inclined to be throwing fists in the task force if he could avoid it. Not that he suspected any of the close knit soldiers would, but there were friends he’d had back then he’d thought the same about, only for them to end up in a bloody pile on the floor.

You hadn’t really had found a good moment to tell Johnny. You knew he was bisexual, so odds were in your favor, right? He seemed like a pretty laid back guy. Live and let live, maybe, ‘long as you weren’t hurting anybody. But there was always that niggling fear that he wouldn’t be into it, or that he’d be entirely repulsed, or that he’d hurt you. 

And so it isn’t until he’s lowering down your body, trailing kisses over your shirt-clad chest, making his way down to your crotch, that you start to feel anxious.

“You don’t seem as excited—getting a little shy here,” Soap chuckles, nuzzling his stubbled cheek where your packer lumps in your pants.

“Shut up,” you shoot back light-heartedly.

“I’m teasin’. Takes a lil’ bit to get you there, huh?”

“You could say that,” you breathe.

“I do love myself a challenge,” he smiles, leaning back to quickly tug your pants and boxers down in one swoop. The packer of course goes with it, and you hold your breath, staring at the wall caught between desperately wanting to see Soap’s reaction and being too terrified to know.

“Fuckin’ hell…” he groans. You jolt slightly, shivering as a thick calloused thumb swipes curiously through your folds, “damn beautiful, this. You just get better n’ better, love.”

“You don’t mind?” You eye him warily, mind going a little fuzzy already from how he continues to thumb just above your mound.

“You know my preferences. It’s just the best of both worlds, yeah? Lovely braw like you with an even prettier pussy—shite, uh, if those type o’ words are, y’know, fine with you,” he tacks on, demeanor shifting to something a little more nervous, like he’s worried he might’ve offended you. The thought makes you smile.

“I don’ mind, Johnny,” you murmur, looking up at him eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed. 

Johnny smiles soft, eyes tracing back down to your folds, his smile turning into a sharp grin as a thick glob of slick leaks from your hole and between your cheeks.

“Aye, I don’t think she minds either,” he chuckles, reaching down to spread your folds for a better view. He thumbs at your cocklet, staring enraptured. He’s never seen one before—a clit so engorged and thick. It looks so much more like a small little cock than a normal clit, and he curiously pulls the thick foreskin down over the little mushroom head before leaning down to lick at the sensitive little nub with the tip of his tongue, wondering if you’re just as sensitive there as a cis man. 

He gets his answer when you gasp high and squeaky at the sudden overstimulation, his tongue swiping down beneath the ridge at the little bumps there. It makes you burn with pleasure, like a raw wound being dug at. Soap growls when you grip a hand tight in his mohawk, tugging hard at the strands. The vibrations make you moan in return, his mouth moving to envelop the rest of your cock in hot, wet suction, bobbing his head ever so minutely up and down the small length. 

Soap looks pure blissed out, eyes—darkened by his enlarged pupils—staring up at you hazily, or fluttering shut as he moans and growls against your cunt, licking into your fluttering hole. His bulky arms are looped around your legs, hands holding hard onto the fat on the top of your thigh, grip squeezing and desperate.

The assault on your pussy quickly crescendos, the overwhelming heat in your lower tummy bursting as you rock your hips against his mouth, facefucking him as you cum. 

Soap fucking whimpers, lapping desperately at your leaking slick like he’s worried he can’t get it all into his mouth fast enough. He licks you long after you’ve finished, making your hips twitch with overstimulation. 

When he finally pulls away, your body’s lax and loose, and you realize it’s probably exactly what he wants, and even though you know how loving and caring Johnny can be it still surprises you when he puts an arm either side of your head, holding his weight above you as he noses at your jaw until you bare your neck to him.

He presses sucking kisses to the flushed skin there, his hips rocking gently against your thigh. You can feel his hard cock through his jeans, how it jumps and twitches in the fabric everytime you whimper or moan from his attention.

He pulls back, hand gently cupping your chin to make you look up at him. He smiles so, so soft. It makes your heart flutter and drop.

“Would you wanna go further with me, love?”

You hum, hand in his short hair again to pull him closer to you, mumbling a “fuck yes,” as your lips collide. He groans, kissing you slow and forceful—with an intent you can’t quite decipher. 

“Good boy,” he rumbles.

You can feel, can hear, as he starts to try and shimmy out of his pants without separating your mouths. You worm your arm down to grab at his wrist and he pauses, looking up at you with questioning eyes.

“Leave them on?”

He smiles.

“Anything you want.”

He sits up, reaching down to go and pull himself out, but you stop him again. You sit up with him, which he didn’t quite expect. Then you’re tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“Off,” you demand. He happily obliges you, lifting his arms to help you pull it off.

You’re immediately on him, hands cupping his weighty pecs, thumbing at his pert nipples. He bites his lip, pectoral muscles flexing as he arches into the touch.

You lean forward to lick at his nipple, taking the hard bud into your mouth to suck hard. He groans, a hand resting gently at the back of your head, neither pushing nor pulling.

“That’s damn good,” he groans, low and rough. You hear the shuffle of fabric and open your eyes, pulling back to see Soap’s cock, thick and hard and dripping as he furiously strokes himself, biting back his gravelly noises.

“Johnny,” you purr. He opens his eyes—doesn’t remember having closed them—and meets yours half-lidded and drunk, “fuck me already.”

He steadies the hand on his cock, holding it tight at the base as his free hand gently pushes at your chest to lay back. He positions himself, hauling you into his lap with only one hand on your hip. He slaps his cock against your mound, groaning at the wet crack that emits.

“Condom?” He grunts—sounds out of it. Less than an afterthought as he starts to gently slide his cock between your slick folds.

“No,” you grunt, arching your hips until you feel his cockhead catch on your hole, “can’t knock me up.”

“Christ, isn’t that a thought,” he huffs with a smile, starting to press his hips forward, your muscles still lax from your orgasm providing little resistance. 

“Fucckk,” Soap groans out as he slides into the hilt, “mmm, y’little cunt’s squeezin’ me so tight…”

“Fucking hell, Johnny—“ you gasp out at his words, back arching and hips pressing down, feeling how the thick girth of his base spreads your entrance that ever slight bit more.

He starts to rock his hips, quickly picking up a brutal pace that has you clawing at his back. He shivers at the thought of the other’s seeing the markings later in the showers. Wonders if they’ll be able to tell who did it. He sucks a hickey onto your shoulder for good measure.

“Listen to ‘er squelch,” he growls, teeth bared against your throat as your face heats. He’s right, though—the obscene, wet sounds of your pussy adjusting to his massive girth sends a thrill through the both of you. 

You’re unbelievably wet, slick gushing out of you nonstop. He can feel it against his balls every time they slap against your ass, and they draw up tighter at the sensation each time. 

Soap’s rambling something in scots against your ear, voice deep and gravelly as he rocks into you. The denim of his jeans rubs your thighs deliciously raw, cunt squeezing tight around the other’s cock from the onslaught of sensations. 

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, though not unexpected. It rocks through your body, vision whitening as your hole spasms around Soap’s pulsing length. He shouts your name as he cums mere seconds after, burying to the hilt, thick ropes of spend filling your insides, hot and sticky. 

He groans through it, hips rocking jarringly as your pussy coaxes every last drop from him. He stays buried in you, even as he softens, carefully resting his weight upon you with a satisfied moan. You pet at his hair, the both of you coming down from your highs ever so slowly.

Soap sniffs, pets at your hip, and glances up at you through thick lashes.

“When I pulled your pants down? There was a good second there I’d thought your pecker had fallen off,” he grins.

You push him off of you with a laugh and he tackles you back down, struggling to kiss you through the both of your wide smiles.

[lizzie-is-here]

bucky barnes oneshot

the white cat part 2

bucky barnes x fem! reader

alpine turns out to be the best matchmaker (sorry nat ily)

a/n: a part two? slay very short and sweet 🫶 also short note this time hope you enjoy unless you wanna hear ab my weird dream: ok so like a week ago i like literally lived out three years and i met a guy first year in college while majoring in astronomy and we started dating and he was super sweet and got me flowers and one time it was snowing and we danced on the lawn, but anyway it was my junior year around christmas and i was in the library studying for finals and he came in with daisies and take out to help me but THEN I FUCKING WOKE UP WTF? still mad

the white cat pt. 1

The first date had gone perfectly. Bucky had shown up at the animal shelter right on time, and you had changed in the bathroom to a more date-appropriate outfit. A Japanese steakhouse, a bottle of champagne, and a walk home later, you’d both been eager to schedule another. And three more.

So now, you’re sitting in a back corner of a café (date number five, for those keeping track at home), trying to not stare too hard at the man in front of you.

“Coffee is so much better, holy shit,” he mumbles. You’d recommended a caramel frappuccino, though you’re now mildly convinced he may run off to date it.

“Yeah?” you laugh. “I bet a lot of things are better now.”

Bucky nods, watching the way the corners of your eyes crinkle when you chuckle. He likes that you don’t avoid the topic of his past. Contrary to popular belief, not every moment of his early life was horrible.

Just most of it. Like, seventy years out of one hundred. 70%. Could be worse.

He pulls himself back into reality. “Temperature control? Best thing that’s ever been invented.”

“Oh, really? I’d say modern electronics-“ You gesture around, where students are typing away on laptops and groups of friends are showing each other pictures. “-but I could be biased.”

“Don’t shit talk the flip phone! It works well enough for me.”

“Oh, no. No shit talking here.”

When both of you finish your drinks, you walk Bucky back to his apartment, even though he definitely doesn’t need any extra protection. You enjoy the trek up the stairs you’d normally loathe, and reaching his door makes a weight sink in your chest. He opens it a crack.

Before you can even say goodbye, a white blur races out, ramming into your leg and making you stumble.

Right into Bucky.

“Shit, sorry!”

“She normally isn’t like this-“

The two of you speak at the same time before your eyes lock, breathing syncing as your thoughts both race and stop entirely.

His thoughts race. ‘Is five dates enough to kiss? Probably, right? But it was different then- this isn’t back then, dumbass! Okay, but what do I do? God, she’s pretty this close. Do I lean in? I should lean in, I’m taller than her. Curse you and bless you, Alpine, I’ll get you some Fancy Feast after this-‘

And you only have one thought.

‘Fuck it.’

Pulling him in, your last and only thought leaves the moment your lips touch. His hands hesitantly settle on your back and waist, relaxing when you sigh.

The troublemaker responsible nudges you again, albeit much gentler, purring up at you.

“Hey, Alpine,” you greet, scooping her up. She stretches out and turns limp in your arms. Shit-eating brat. You love her, though. “So, um…” You trail off, but the silence isn’t doesn’t linger for long.

Bucky opens the door fully, nodding inside.

“Would you wanna come in for a bit? Not that you have to, but-“ The way he grins and darts his tongue out across his lips is more convincing than you need. “-your call.”

White ball of fluff in your arms, you agree wholeheartedly.

“How about a movie?” you ask, stepping inside.

Bucky shrugs as you let Alpine down. “I’ve got a list of some Sam told me to watch.” The cat runs to the couch like she knows you’ll end up there.

“We can start there.”

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

Some original work

‘Always thought there was something off about her,’ said Dunk later as they drove up to his cabin on the moors. ‘Seems the type to ‘have you tried’ you. Oh gods she has a kid doesn’t she. Poor sod. Y’know once I had a lady in a pharmacy tell me retinol would probably get rid of this?’ he pointed to the port wine stain. ‘I told her to fuck off.’

‘Not surprised.’

‘Hot chocolate? I’ve got orange, toffee, classic and white and raspberry. You must be freezing, sorry it took so long to get to you.’

‘Raspberry sounds good.’

‘It’s pink!’

Dunk’s place was cluttered and cosy, fake wood floors (‘for the noise’) in deep brown and exposed beams in the low ceiling. It was like stepping back in time, a feeling only accentuated by walking into the kitchen. Bunches of dried herbs were garlanded around the oak cabinets, a copper pan simmered on the stove with thyme and orange slices. As she stepped in, Dunk dropped a few crushed juniper berries in too. ‘Energy has to be right,’ he said. ‘Purifying shit.’

‘What Yule plans so far?’

‘Party, obviously.’ He turned with a mug of chocolate. ‘Here you go. We’re doing gift giving and all that too. I think we’re all cooking? Can’t remember. I know it’s duck, and maybe a whole salmon. Any ideas?’

‘A pie? Might be nice. A savoury and a sweet. Pork pie and then blackberry and apple?’

‘Lush. Come sit down, I need to make notes.’

They went into the living room, which was dominated by a beat up leather sofa, its burgundy surface cracked in places. As Dunk went hunting for a beat up notebook in the bookcase, a small furry face peeked out from behind a stack of tabletop games shoved haphazardly into a corner. ‘You got a cat?!’

‘Yeah, mate!’ Dunk grinned and knelt down, reaching. The kitten approached, butting its head against his hand. He gathered it up and settled next to Arianne. ‘This is Tara. She’s technically a Yule present from dad, but he wanted her to celebrate with us.’

‘How is your dad?’

‘Oh, y’know. Still kicking.’

‘Hey Tara,’ Arianne sat on the floor and let the kitten sniff her hand, grinning when she stepped into her lap and settled. ‘Aww. She’s adorable.’

‘Sure you’re not a druid, mate? She doesn’t normally do that.’

‘I wish I could have a pet sometimes. They’re just lovely.’

‘Yeah, say that when you’re breaking your back cleaning the litterbox.’ Dunk was clearly head over heels for Tara; he had a sparkle in his eyes she hadn’t seen in a long time. ‘She’s the best though.’

‘Did you consult the cards about her or anything?’

‘Nope. She just dropped into my life. Sorry we weren’t like, in contact or whatever. Adi said you wanted space so like… yeah. Sorry.’ He sat heavily on the sofa with the notebook and a chewed pen. ‘What did we say? Savoury pie and a sweet pie, duck, salmon…’

‘It’s alright.’ A wave rose and broke in her chest, leaving her bereft. ‘I mean I didn’t. Want space, I mean. I was actually in a really dark place. Did you know that?’

Dunk frowned and turned fully to her. ‘How dark are we talking?’ ‘I was suicidal,’ she said. Even she heard the brittle, casual denial in the nonchalance. ‘It’s fine.’ Tara started purring in her lap. It seemed to neutralise the knot in her gut.

‘I’m sorry.’ There was nothing else to say. They sat in silence, one crushed under the weight of guilt, the other almost gratified by how much pain that seemed to cause. The silence stretched, yawned into something tangible.

‘Not your fault,’ she said finally. His shoulders dropped.

‘What happened?’

She shrugged. ‘Everyone trying to fix me I guess. It’s like I just wasn’t good enough as I was. I mean I know mum and dad don’t think that, but I can’t help feeling that way. I talked to mum for ages about it. She said it would do me good, and I should go for it, but when I tried out the surgery it didn’t even work. I was telling Adi a few days ago. It’s why I hid away I guess. Just felt like there was no point being here. Or well not that exactly but just there’s a risk every time you have surgery isn’t there? Like the last time I had surgery as a kid I dreamed I didn’t wake up. I didn’t want to go through that again.’

‘And hospitals are the worst.’

‘Yeah. Anyway I’m sorry. For hiding. I just dunno what anyone could’ve done.’

‘Well, you’re here now. Got to meet Tara, which honestly is the best. I knew you’d be friends.’

Arianne scratched the tortoiseshell behind the ears. Outside, rain pelted the windows. She burrowed deeper into the sofa and smiled as Dunk took her mug to make another chocolate. The silence was broken by the gentleness of Hozier’s ‘De Selby’, its lilting guitar a cocoon of sound. Dunk sang along, and for a brief moment she wondered how she could have ever wanted to leave the world, she felt so safe within it. ‘I don’t actually want to leave,’ she said, when Dunk returned. ‘I mean, the country. This thing Adi was talking about. I don’t know.’

‘You want to stay in the starting tavern, is that it? I mean I can’t blame you. It’s comfortable. Warm against the cold outside, there are friends, probably a dog, routine. You have to decide if you want to stay there or not.’

Arianne scowled. ‘That’s manipulative.’

‘Why?’ Duncan had a twinkle in his eye. ‘Just telling the truth.’

‘You’re an asshole. You know I can’t resist a call to something like that. Fine. I’ll do it, but only a few months. Six at most.’

[silentwillowwhisperer]

:' )

Okay. I've been sick for the past couple days and my face hurts for some reason (why does my face hurt? That shouldn't happen). I have been hiding in a little nest I made on my bed.

Buuuut I really want to write something because block is stupid and should be told where to shove it.

We're gonna have a lil' bit of the team just chillin' because that's comfort stuff right there.

(Update: I think this turned out actually decent so yay! I made me happy soo there's that.)

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

The whole team is gathered in the lounge. Pidge is perched on the back of the couch with her feet resting on the cushions. Hunk is laying across half of it, and Lance takes up the other half. Their heads touch and they are engaged in soft, comfortable chatter in that way that only best friends can. Shiro is sprawled out on the floor at the foot of the couch starfish-style with his eyes closed. Keith sits next to him, carefully placing his limbs so that he doesn't disturb Shiro from his rare moment of calm. His head is near Lance and Hunk's and their mumbled words drift over to him every once in a while. He doesn't understand any of it, as it's all inside jokes and memories of people they knew in the past, but their voices are comforting. Not that Keith would ever admit that out loud.

He can hear the whirring of the castle's electronics and the faint buzz that the lights give off. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he can hear red curled up and purring. For some reason, being surrounded by these people as he is now, he's warmer than he ever was out in his lonely desert shack. It was the kind of warmth that settles deep in your bones, the kind that lingers pleasantly. The kind that feels fragile but strong as a stone pillar at the same time.

Every once in a while, Shiro would sigh deeply, or his strong voice would rumble out a comment to Lance and Hunk's conversation, or he would move his non-prosthetic arm onto Keith's lap and give him a gentle pat before moving. Pidge is clicking away at something on her computer, and the keys that she hits in a constant stream of clicks sound like a kind of strange music that Keith has come to associate with Pidge.

The best part is, no one expects Keith to say anything, to suddenly be social and contribute to their conversations. They know that he's existing around them in his own way. And anyway, they know that Keith is paying attention in the way he does, observing everything around him, his thoughts slowly reeling through his mind like one of those old movies with images in soft greys and browns and crackling voices that remind Keith of a campfire under the stars. Lance's arm hangs down over the edge of the couch and rests in Keith's lap. Keith uses it as a fidget toy, running his hands over Lance's perfectly shaped oval nails and running his hands over Lance's skin which makes Keith realize how real this is.

He starts humming a calm tune. It's just a bunch of random notes strung together, but Lance chuckles and joins in, and even Pidge stops typing to listen to their voices blending together. Still humming, Lance moves his hand blindly around Keith's lap until he finds the smaller boy's wrist and tugs it until Keith joins him on the couch, smooshed comfortably in between Lance's chest and the cushions. When their humming fades out, Keith goes back to focusing loosely on the hushed words drifting around the vast sea that is the room and feeling the heat radiating off of Lance.

[saturn7162]

The Gemlings

Another fucking SU thing I wont stop unless someone asks me to write abt smth else

I love SU so much so here is a 7 page google doc on my 2 favorite gals and an oc

I could totally add more on this btw

The Crystal Gems walked over to the barn in the dead of night after hearing what sounded like a fight. As they stepped closer, the sheer smell of hormones flooded their senses. Along with the sound of hissing, chirping, growling, grunting and spitting. 

“Guys?” Steven said, grabbing Garnet’s arm and looking up at her and Pearl. 

“What’s going on? Is everything okay there?” He asked, worry filling his gaze. 

“I’m sure it is. I recognize this type of environment. I think Lapis and Peridot are going to have geodes soon!” Pearl squealed, happily jogging up to the barn. As she came closer, she heard the sound of a deep snarl. 

“Peridot? Lapis? Chrysolite?” Pearl called out to the trio that lived in the barn. She used her gem to cast light into the room, illuminating the large nest in the middle. The gems looked at each other as they saw Chrysolite, the male, being batted at by Lapis and Peridot. They hissed at him loudly, hitting his large muzzle as he tried to help with the nest. 

“Chrysolite, you know you can’t be in here while your mates are nesting.” Pearl chastised, crossing her arms as she glared at him. He let out a creaky roar, sitting down with his legs out and his hands on the floor in front of him. As he reached a paw out, Lapis reached hers out, smacking it away with a growl. He gruffed and tried again, only to be hit by Peridot. He groaned and flopped onto his back, presenting his belly as a show of trust. Again, only to be met with the glares and growls of his mates. 

“Come on Chrysolite, you’re spooking them.” Pearl stepped closer, only to be hissed at by all three of them and batted at by Chrysolite, who reluctantly got to his feet and left the barn, making sure to scent everything he came across. Once he was out, he closed the barn door and sat in front of it, staring at the doors as he slouched angrily.

“It’s going to be my nest too!” He shouted, crossing his arms as the two gems inside hissed at him. 

“Why won’t they let me stay? They’re going to be my gemlings!” He grumbled, falling onto his stomach as he asked Pearl.

“You know why Chrysolite, it’s because they’re hormonal. You’re the sire, and sires’ hormones make them incredibly quick to violence, they just think you’re too aggressive to be around.” Pearl said, helping him up.

“But it’s my den too! I should at least get to stay!” He pouted, crossing his large arms across his chest. He bared his teeth and lashed his tail, clear signs he was not to be agitated.

“Look, you’re about to be a father and your body language is showing it too, you’re upset and until Peridot and Lapis allow you in there, you can’t be in there!” Pearl responded, looking up at the gruff looking male.

“So you’ll just have to stay with us! It’ll be like a sleepover!!” Steven shouted happily, hugging him tightly.

“Yeah, yeah I guess it will.” Chrysolite smiled and hugged him back, now walking back a little more willingly. When they got back to the temple, Chrysolite leapt into Steven’s room, snatching blankets, sheets, and pillows off the bed. 

“Chrysolite?!” Pearl shouted, shocked at his actions as he threw the bedding onto the floor below. He grunted in response, taking the mattress in between his teeth and tossing down as well. He leapt off of the loft and spread the materials out, his instincts taking over as he began to build a new nest. He took the cushions and pillows off the couch as well, carefully arranging them in his new nest in the middle of the living room. He purred and walked around it on all fours, admiring his work.

“Ohhh…” Pearl exclaimed, understanding what just happened.

“You’re just nesting!” Pearl smiled and rummaged through the cabinet next to the couch, fishing out more soft textile things for Chrysolite to use. He happily took them and sprawled them out in his nest, before softly clambering inside and turning in circles, soon stretching and flopping down into it. 

“U-uhm? Chrysolite?” Steven said, walking up awkwardly. Chrysolite grunted and opened one eye, peering up at him.

“Could I, y’know… Come in? I-I need to sleep too..” Steven said before Chrysolite snatched him by the front of his pajamas and softly tossed him into the nest before curling around him, giving him just enough room to breath as he fell asleep. Steven giggled and soon fell asleep as well. 

In the morning, Chrysolite yawned, nudging Steven awake. As Steven crawled out of the nest, Chrysolite stretched out like a cat and trotted out of the nest. He looked around, checking if Garnet, Amethyst, or Pearl was there before he quickly walked out the door. He ran down the stairs and ran down the beach, kicking up sand as he ran to the barn. 

“Chrysolite!!” Pearl shouted, causing him to glance back at her in shock before running quicker. He panted, quickly trotting over to the barn, speeding through Beach City. 

“Chrysolite! Get back here! You’re going to scare them and end up most likely causing problems to their clutch!!” Pearl shouted, having Garnet and Amethyst chase after him as well. He ran through the streets, almost running into people as he ran to the barn. He hopped over the fence and scrambled over to the door, the gems right on his heels. He dashed through the open doors and skidded to a halt in front of his mates. He purred loudly, chirping as well as he rolled onto his side, presenting his soft belly, the most vulnerable part of his body. He flicked his ears and shook out his fur, emitting pheromones to soothe his mates’ nerves. He knew not to get too close to the nests, but he did scent the room, covering it in his scent so when the gemlings arrived, they could get used to it. Once he was finished, he purred and rolled around, taking in the attention that his mates gave him before they sent him out. 

“What are we going to do with you?” Garnet said as Chrysolite was sent out, purring as he scented his mates briefly before they swatted him away. He smiled as he trotted out, scenting the outside as they left. 

“You’re going to scare them if you lose your temper around them, your fuse is shorter than normal..” Pearl said, causing him to snarl. He sighed and stepped on the warp pad, activating it and going home. 

After months of this, going over, scenting, being chased out, and repeating, Chrysolite grew tired. He lay in his nest, snuggling Steven close to him. However, they both were jolted awake at the sound of wails, and bright blue and green lights coming from the barn. Pearl, Garnet, and Amethyst quickly bolted into the living room to see Chrysolite shaking Steven off of his leg and bolting out the door. 

“Pearrrrrl!!!” Steven yelled, falling back into the nest.

“Where is he going!?” He shouted, quickly dashing in and out of the bathroom in a new change of clothes. 

“Peridot and Lapis are getting ready to lay, and Chrysolite’s sire instincts are going haywire! We need to stop him before he gets himself hurt, Peridot or Lapis hurt, or the clutches hurt!” Pearl explained, bolting after him.

“Chrysolite! Stop!! You’re going to scare them!” Pearl yelled as she sprinted after him, trying to catch up and stop him from interrupting. He dove onto all fours and ran faster, running down the empty dark streets to get to the barn. He panted as he ran on, leaping over the fence and diving into the barn, being met with the wails of his mates as they laid their clutches in the nest. He instantly began producing calming pheromones, purring and chirping to soothe the nerves in the room. He quickly trotted over to them, licking their skin to calm them. He rubbed their back, enjoying the time they had before they got angry at him being there. Pearl’s squeals filled the barn as she laid her eyes on their clutches, counting nine whole geodes in total. 

Chrysolite purred loudly, rubbing his scent glands onto each geode. They laid together for a few minutes, tending to their young. Once the geodes’ safety was ensured, Lapis let out a growl, signaling for Chrysolite to leave. He grumbled as he got to his feet, rubbing against the clutch one last time, earning a slash and a hiss from Lapis. He retreated from the nest with a chirp and gazed at his offspring. He trilled and flicked his ears and throat fur, presenting a show of green-blue color. He purred loudly and pranced for them, giving into his needs as a sire. Lapis and Peridot giggled to themselves and sent him off. He trilled and jogged out after giving them a kiss, purring wildly. He closed the barn doors and turned to face the other gems, Pearl and Garnet looked at him, slightly disappointed in him going to see the two carriers, despite Pearl’s warnings about what might happen. However, he just gave them a smug look and pranced off. 

Around two weeks later, Chrysolite was woken up by someone leaving the house. He yawned, stretched, and turned over, going back to sleep. Twenty minutes later though, he was jolted awake by the loud and angry cries of his mates in the barn. He was up in an instant, the instincts of a sire needing to tend to their family flowing through him. Garnet and Pearl ran in, causing Steven to wake up as well. Chrysolite grew angry quickly, fangs growing in his mouth as he snarled and spat, his eyes glowed as he bolted out the door, sprinting towards the barn once more. Pearl groaned, having to chase after him again with Garnet. He leapt onto all fours, running faster to get to his new family. He ran through the fence, smashing it to pieces as he tried to get to Lapis and Peridot. He slammed open the doors and panted roughly, observing the geode in Amethyst’s hands. Pearl and Garnet stormed in behind him, and saw what Chrysolite was upset at. Amethyst laughed awkwardly, placing the geode down just as Chrysolite leapt on her. 

To him, Amethyst was not a friend. All he saw through his instinct clouded mind was someone trying to take away his baby. He roared and was on her in a millisecond, holding her down and slamming his clawed hands into her. He bit, tore, slashed, punched, beat, and screamed. At the moment, he was not Chrysolite, he was only a hormonal sire protecting his young. He attacked her so violently, she poofed and even then he was still angry. He raised a hand, getting ready to slam it down on Amethyst’s gem and shatter her. Though, just before he could, Steven ran over and grabbed it, running out of his reach before he too could get hit. As Pearl, Garnet, and Steven ran, Chrysolite ran after them. He growled and hissed, chasing them away from the barn and back into Beach City. He let out a deep roar, completely intent on viciously attacking them if they came back too soon. He spat as they ran back to the house, keeping Steven safe. 

He grunted and stalked back, still on all fours. His teeth and other sharp assets shrunk back to normal. As he walked, he scented the area around the barn, marking trees and rocks by slashing into them. He did this for at least an hour before he heard the calling chirps of Lapis and Peridot. He eagerly ran back, before slowing down and carefully entering the barn. He heard their soft purrs as he padded in, his puffed up fur laying flat back on his body. He purred back, much louder and deeper as he smiled at them. They smiled back and started shuffling around, making room for his large body to fit in. He trilled happily and softly slipped in. He purred louder, his breathing syncing with theirs as he snuggled in, tucking them both closer along with their clutches. They laid like this for hours, falling asleep together. They lay like this for weeks, never moving from their spots. 

“Hey Chrysolite?” Lapis said, shaking him awake.

“Yes, Lappy?” He smiled and gazed up at her, licking her cheek softly, causing her to giggle. 

“Me and Peri were wondering if you could watch the clutches for us? We want to go out together but we can’t leave them..” Lapis said, stroking his hair softly.

“Of course! I’d love to watch them, I haven't seen them in so long.” He cooed and leaned into her touch. 

“Thank you!” She purred and hugged him tightly. 

“Peri! He said he’d watch them!” She shook Peridot awake, who chirped happily, getting up from the clutch. 

“Here, lay on your side Chrysolite.” Peridot instructed.

“Okay, what now?” He asked softly, gazing up at her. 

“Alright, here we go.” Peridot carefully gathered up the geodes and slid them closer to him, slipping their sturdy forms under him. 

“The outsides are incredibly durable, so they won’t crack if someone of your size helps with brooding.” Peridot explained, covering him with a blanket. 

“Alright, thank you Peri.. Now you two go have fun. They’ll be safe, all nine of them.” He purred, shifting to make himself more comfortable. The two nodded and stroked him softly before leaving the barn, closing the doors and leaving it pitch black inside. He smiled as he curled around them, making sure every last one of them was safe and accounted for. 

“Hi there babies.” He cooed, chirping and trilling happily. 

“I’m your carrier's sire, so I’ll protect you and your mamas. We’ll all be so safe together, me, Lapis, Peridot, and all nine of you. Oh!!” He squealed, his incredibly loud purrs shaking the walls. He laid on them for hours, using his body heat to keep them warm and using his insane amount of fur to keep them safe. He had his back towards the barn doors as he snored, his chest rising and falling. He let out a snarl as he heard the barn doors open, his ears turning towards it. He turned himself over, crouching over his nest and geodes as he growled. 

“Chrysolite?” Came Pearl’s soft voice. He opened eyes to look at her, snarling as his eyes fell upon Amethyst. He hissed loudly, his lips curling to show his gums and sharp teeth. He growled and puffed up his fur, making him look impossibly larger. 

“Where’s Peridot and Lapis?” Pearl asked, stepping closer slowly. 

“Out.” He responded coldly, pinning his ears back against his mane. Though still softening up around her. 

“And you’re covering for them? How much longer do the geodes have?” Pearl asked, sitting in front of him with her legs folded under her. 

“Yes, I’m taking over until they return. And I would say around a week or so.” He answered, starting to purr quietly. They talked for a while, Pearl calming him down and chatting about the clutch. 

“Ow!” He yelped and raised his body up, watching one of the geodes begin to crack.

“Or today! Or they could erupt today!” He panicked, letting out a loud deep Sire Call, calling out to his mates for help. He carefully set all the geodes out in front of him, watching them as he called to Peridot and Lapis. Pearl walked him through the process of the erupting of gemlings, explaining how she used to be a midgem, the gem version of a midwife. He squealed as he saw a small furry blue hand poke out of the blue and teal geode, its tiny claws swatting around at nothing. He carefully took the top of it between his teeth, slowly removing it for the small gemling to poke out of. Its gem was on its chest, and was shaped like Lapis’s. 

As soon as he helped it out of its geode, it started crying. Its small naked fluffy body wiggling around. He held it in his paws, licking it clean and cradling it on his bare chest, yelping as it clawed him unconsciously. Its cries lessened and it sniffled before it began chirping. It peeped as loud as it could, grasping onto the soft warm fur of Chrysolite’s chest. Pearl clapped her hands wildly, congratulating him on his first gemling’s eruption. Minutes later, Peridot and Lapis came rushing into the barn just in time to see Chrysolite licking two others clean. Both were blue, looking the exact same. Same green hair, same shade of blue on their fur, same cries, and both of their gems were on their left shoulder they were practically the exact same gem. 

“Chrysolite!” Lapis shouted, quickly running over with Peridot to help calm their cries. He purred and set both of them on his chest with the first one. They purred loudly, helping the others erupt from their geodes and giving them to Chrysolite to clean and soothe. They sighed as the very last one erupted and Chrysolite took its small spotted body to clean it. 

“She’s so small!” Chrysolite cooed, softly setting her with her siblings. 

“Alright, Pearl, Garnet, Amethyst? Leave please.” Chrysolite said tiredly, shooing them away as best he could as he stroked the gemlings' backs. Pearl nodded and quickly herded the gems out of the barn, making sure to shut the doors. Chrysolite sighed, purring loudly as Peridot and Lapis curled up next to him. 

“You’re so lucky we agreed to this. This entire process hurt.” Lapis jokes, softly stroking the sleeping gemlings. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around them, rubbing their bellies softly. 

“OW!” He yelped, curling his toes as one of the small gems bit at one of the small pinkish bumps on his belly, sinking its sharp tiny teeth into it. Lapis laughed, carefully picking up the small baby and bringing it to her chest, helping it feed from her instead of trying to feed from a male. The baby chirped and took one in its mouth, feeding itself as it squeaked. The other babies raised their heads, chirping and squealing. Lapis and Peridot smiled, reaching out for their babies and having them latch onto them. They purred in sync together, slowly falling asleep with their babies. 

A few weeks passed and the gemlings grew bigger. Their eyes have opened and almost all of them have Chrysolite’s yellow eyes. Some of them have Lapis’ wings but they can't control them and all parents have to keep an eye on them to make sure their wings don’t dissipate in the air. Whenever the gems came over, the gemlings, sometimes labeled ‘cubs’ by Chrysolite, loved to climb on Garnet. Whenever they clambered onto her, she’d have the goofiest smile on her face, sitting extremely still. Sometimes, they’d go outside, but only ever with Chrysolite, if he wasn’t there, they don’t go outside. When they were outside he never took his eyes off of any of them, even if he couldn’t see them, he knew EXACTLY where they were. They also really liked being picked up by Chrysolite. Since they didn’t know how to speak, they would waddle up to him, raise up their arms, and chirp wildly until he noticed them and picked them up. With the help of Steven, he taught them how to speak, even if it was only around 10 words a baby.

[kickingitwithkirk]

Greetings from Austin

Summary: Jensen and Jared are at odds over a monumental decision that changes their lives in a way they couldn’t have envisioned.

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Alpha!Jared Padalecki x Omega!OFC

Word Count: 3683

Warnings: a/b/o, J2 are married/mated, homophobia, bisexuality, biphobia, angst, cursing, jealousy, depression/anxiety, medical stuff, sexual dysfunction, infertility, IVF, surrogacy

*additional warnings to be added in future parts.

A/N: Here we go again with one my weird as hell dreams, series Inspired by this art.

A/N II: There is no intentional hate or malevolence intended towards any of the Ackles or Padalecki families. This is a purely fictional piece containing real and created persons/names/events set in the fictional A/B/O verse. Some dates/events altered to fit story.

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

*divider by @writeyourmindaway​​​​​​

*images found online

Part II

One hour later

Jensen sets two sealed cups in the small niche shutting its door and grabs his jacket sliding it on, his inner Alpha purring with satisfaction watching his husband’s fumbling fingers working at a button on his shirt, “Need any help, babe?”

Jared’s all dilated pupils and glowing cheeks above his thick beard, “I’m good, be out in a few.” Jensen leans in for one softer, lingering kiss before locking the door then Jared leans against it, savoring the last vestiges of his oxytocin high.

He can’t stop recalling that mischievous glint in his husbands' luminous green eyes as Jensen slowly licked his plush lips before kissing him stupidly, sinful tongue doing magically delicious things that were probably illegal in twenty states and thick, talented fingers that are capable of many other things.

Shaking himself out of the memory, Jared crossed to the sink and caught his debauched reflection in the mirror. Shit, he can’t be out looking like this.

Turning on the tap catches some running water splashing his face to cool off when his phone starts vibrating in his back pocket. Drying his hands and face, he pulls it out, checking the text. Glancing up, he runs a hand over his thick beard, smoothing it down before leaving the room.

Wholly preoccupied with typing a reply, he rounds the corner heading for the doctor’s office, slamming into a woman and knocking her off her feet; the contents of her bag scatter loudly across the floor.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry!”

From her seated position, she looks up and up, his long legs clad in low riding jeans barely held up by a loosely buckled leather belt, his shirts rucked up with a bit of his treasure trail and toned abs, flanked by the sharp V of his hips peek out.

“FuckI’mfuckingsorryFuckdidn’tfuckingsee….”

Jared, embarrassed, keeps apologizing, laced with fuck every other word, squats down, gathering scattered items, dropping them back into the bag, continuously babbling until the woman bursts out laughing. 

“And here I be thinking I said fuck too much,” a subtle lilt in her voice made the word sound like fook instead.

They move around each other, picking up the last of her stuff. As Jared reaches for a scarf, the central air catches a few loose strands of her hair, lightly dancing them across his face inhales her piquant scent eliciting a deep, rumbling purr in his chest, making her peer into his kaleidoscope eyes and watch them bleed red with arousal as her flash gold in response.

Scrambling upright, she hurries away, leaving him holding the scarf; lifting the forgotten fabric, Jared deeply inhaled the trace scent, felt his cock chubbing up the second time that day morosely whined before tucking it into a back pocket and resumed towards the doctor’s office.

Unbeknownst to either party, Dr. Rodgers stood in a doorway, observing their interaction unnoticed.

***

Jensen watches, amused, as his mate sits down with a slight wince and is about to tease him when he abruptly growls, “you stink of Omega!”

At that moment, Dr. Rodgers comes in, saving Jared from responding.

“We’ll get your test results in about two weeks unless we see something that needs further investigation.” He sets a binder before them, opening it to the first page, revealing a dossier and picture.

“Now, the next bit is selecting an egg donor. I’m sure you’re wondering how we select the donors. I rely on a protein compatibility test to narrow prospective candidates, similar to the markers blood test used when matchmaking Alphas and Omegas was the norm.”

“All of our donors are Betas or Omegas, and several of the Betas are willing to be the surrogate too. If you choose to go with an Omega donor, we will have the extra step of selecting a Beta surrogate, but that’s something to discuss later if needed.”

“We also consider your personal preferences in physical traits, personality, etc. I’ll introduce you to the top three that are the best matches. If none work out, we’ll try the next most compatible candidates.” Dr. Rodgers clicks his pen, “Let’s get started, shall we.”

🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎

Flipping off the light switch, Jensen walks out of the bath to find Jared asleep, crosses to his side, admires him, and wonders how he got so lucky to have Jared as his. 

Over fifteen years since that life-changing meeting, he was more in love with his best friend, husband, and mate than ever. The ups and downs in their relationship that could have torn them apart made them stronger.

Jensen gently lifted the book Jared had been reading, slid in a bookmark, and sat it on the nightstand turned off the lamp before easing into his side, leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to Jared’s bare shoulder, who only wore bottoms since he always ran warm rolled over, buried his face into Jensen’s neck, snuggling close sleepily, muttering thank you.

“For what, babe?”

“Helping me,” Jared’s warm breath tickled as he spoke. “I know you’ve said you’d have been happy to stop with JJ, but I wanna have pups with you. I want to have that connection you have with Danni and your pups.”

Jensen sighed.

When they’d married in 2017, he’d envisioned what their lives could be, and it didn’t include siring children at almost forty-three years old. He tried to dissuade his husband for several years, taking him on exotic trips and offering scenarios of what else they could do without being tied down. 

Jared couldn’t be dissuaded about having pups but was willing to wait until they finished Supernatural, so Jensen changed tactics, saying he didn’t want to be that old dad, the one who got stared at and couldn’t keep up. Jared laughed, saying that was impossible because he was becoming a fucking hot Dilf. 

Besides, they knew lots of people having families later. Norman Reedus was fifty when his second pup came, and JDM was almost fifty-two when George was born.

“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll say yes if we find one donor we both agree on. But, if you like one and me another, I’m not doing it.”

“Okay, Jay,” he acquiesced and shifted, laying his head on his shoulder, “we’ll find the one. I can feel it.” 

Jensen rested his cheek against the top of his mate's head, worried, unable to fall asleep for ages. How was Jared going to handle this disappointment? It was unavoidable; they had vastly different tastes in females.

🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎

Five days later

7:00 A.M.

Jared was up to mile three of his daily workout on the treadmill in his office. He usually ran outside early morning, but a surprise thunderstorm altered his plans for the day when his phone rang. He dialed the machine down to walking speed to answer.

“Hello, Mr. Page; this is Sissy from Dr. Rodger's office. I’m sorry to be calling so early. He would like you to return for a follow-up about your semen testing.” Jared’s throat tightened, closing off his ability to respond.

He stepped off the machine and sat on the oversized leather couch, “Sorry, I..what time can I come in?”

“We have an opening at 8:45. Will that work?”

“Yes, ma’am, I can be there then.”

“Great, we’ll see you in a bit Mr. Page.”

Jared sat back, not caring he was getting sweat all over the leather started a breathing exercise to calm himself, telling his brain to knock it off. It wasn’t anything significant with how calm Sissy was on the phone.

Ten minutes later, he was still anxious but able to handle it, glanced at his watch, and needed to get his butt in gear to make the appointment.

Walking into their bedroom, he found Jensen softly snoring, crept, grabbed some clean clothes, and headed for the shower. He left a note by the coffee pot saying he had an errand and be back ASAP.

He was pulling into the clinic's parking lot with five minutes to spare, tucked his slightly damp hair into his ever-present beanie, slipped on a mask dashed through the downpour into the clinic.

After being temperature checked, Sissy walked him to the doctor’s office, knocked on the door, opened it, and Jared saw the doctor gesturing for him to come in as he finished his call.

“Hello, Mr. Page. Thank you for coming in. I wanted to review a discrepancy the lab found with your test, and I’ll try not to use too much doctor jargon.” He lay three pages on the table in front of him, a color printout of a sperm DNA strand broke down into segments and the others Jared recognized as chromosome mapping. 

“These are part of an Alphas sperm DNA sequencing. Normally, this segment,” he pointed to a circled area on the right page demonstrating a standard sequence, “has a wide band in it. This is your sperm’s DNA, ” he circled a column on the left page of the same segment showing a variant, “which contains a narrow band instead.”

“What does it mean?” Jared asked nervously.

“I looked at your previous testing from 2016, and it was also present back then. And to be honest, I’ve never encountered this variant, so I’d like to consult with a colleague to get their take.” He paused, watching the Alphas' expressions. “Mr. Page,  I didn’t ask you to come in to upset you. I keep my clients in the loop if anything unusual occurs with their testing. Now, it’s possibly something genetically unique to you and affects nothing. But I’d like to run a Tunel test. It analyzes your sperm chromatin structure and gives us more information to work with.”

Jared fidgeted, desperately wanting to chew on his fingers, “Umm…okay.”

“Good, it’s not invasive; we need more sperm.” 

~~~

Jensen was stumbling around the kitchen with his first cup of coffee when Jared walked in carrying a box from his favorite bakery.

“Those aren’t what I think they are?” Jensen mumbles as Jared sits the box on the counter and opens the lid inhaling the scent of those decadent cinnamon roll goodness before pulling out one and taking a big bite, moaning pornographically.

“Babe, whatever I did to warrant these, remind me to do it again,” Jensen says with his mouthful making Jared’s cock twitch at his mate's obscene noises before he bends down and takes a bite from the other side, earning a warning snarl. “You are so not a morning person.” Jared chided, sliding the box over to retrieve one before sitting at the island bar and tearing off a chunk. 

“Wanna share what I can sorta hear rattling around that big head of yours?” Jensen inquires. 

Jared chews slowly before answering. “I got a call from the clinic. Something showed up in my test.” Jensen, his roll forgotten, fully alert, sat beside him, freaked.

“Jared, what’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“No, not that I’m aware of,” Jared fiddled with his roll, pulling the rest apart before continuing. “Dr. Rodgers found something off and doesn’t know what it is. He said it’s probably nothing but wanted to run another test to help figure it out.” Jensen didn’t need their bond to sense his anxiety but knew not to say anything until his mate got it out.

“What if it turns out I was the reason Genevieve couldn’t get pregnant? What if I've waited too long? I don't know if I can handle not having pups..”

“Jared, I know you want to go to the worst possible outcome,” Jensens Alpha's voice, though gently used, made him withdraw; then he felt his beanie pulled off, replaced by thick fingers rhythmically stroking through his hair, and beginning to relax him. 

 “Let’s wait till all the tests are back. If it’s something we'll deal, we always do.”

🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎

August 3rd

“Jay, move your ass! We're going to be late!” Jared bellows from downstairs.

“I’m coming…dammit!” Jensen cursed as he nearly tripped over some boxes left sitting by the bottom step. “You need to get the rest of this shit out of the way; about killed myself again!”

“I’ll stay up tonight moving the rest of this fucking shit if you’ll get a fucking move on!” 

Their sniping at each other had worsened with the house renovations barely complete. The former basement guest quarters got relocated to the spacious pool house. It now was Jensen's small, in-home music studio, and the emptied upstairs rooms converted into the eventual nursery/kids' rooms with a Jack and Jill bathroom in between.

They were flying out tomorrow to quarantine before resuming shooting on the eighteenth when the clinic called to say that their tests were back, and Jared didn’t want to wait for the results.

“You better start watching your goddamn language 'cause the last thing we need is for our pups to have a trash mouth like…don’t roll your eyes at me!” 

Jared threw his arms up in disgust, storming out to the garage and getting in Jensen’s truck, then drove to the clinic in silence and, after their temperature check, was escorted to the doctor’s office.

 “Mr. Bonham, Mr. Page, it a pleasure to see you. Please have a seat.” They sit next to each other, not touching. “Is there something wrong, gentleman?”

“Why do you ask?” Jensen barks, “Fuck man, don’t be rude!” Jared bit back, earning a glare that made most sane people flee from Jensen.

“Gentleman, no need to fight. It may surprise you, but I see a lot of hostility between my clients. I’m sure the added stress of the quarantine while trying to start a family puts your Alpha instincts more on edge, is it not?”

Jensen sighed, “I’m sorry, sir, I was raised better.”

Jared apologetically smiled, “I’m sorry too, sir, and you’re right.”

“I’ve been doing this for a long time and understand the situation from your side. My wife and I had trouble conceiving. We ended up having two sets of twins within three years. Now that’s stress.”

Jensen blinked, “And I thought mine were a handful.”

“They are a blessing, but honestly, it’s an absolute madhouse at times,” Dr. Rodgers laughed. “Right, let’s get back to you two,” he taped on a tablet, “Mr. Bonham, everything looks good. You are in the top percentile regarding mobility and live sperm count for your age group. One of the advantages of being an Alpha, unlike us poor Betas who diminish with age.”

“Mr. Page, I also have your results and that Tunel test, which revealed something..unique.” Jared's eyes widened, and he paled, breath hitching, and his stomach spasticity tightened, making him want to vomit. 

Jensen was out of his chair and, utilizing his Alpha strength turned Jared toward him, knelt between his legs, and reached up to grasp his face, forcing him to stare at him. “Hey Jared, concentrate on me,” he held his husband's gaze, “I need you to breathe with me.” 

After a few minutes, their breathing cinches up, and Jensen physically feels him relaxing, “there we go, big guy, welcome back.” 

Jared nodded, cheeks flushed in embarrassment, “it wasn’t that bad. I want you to focus on breathing for me, babe.”  Dr. Rodgers set a water bottle before him, “do you need me to get you anything else?”

“No, he’ll be fine, thank you,” Jensen answers, getting up and watching Jared drain half the bottle, “he’s usually more aware of these attacks, but since the damn lockdowns..” Jensen shook his head in disgust and retook his chair.

“We’re heading to Vancouver tomorrow to finish our sh..job before his new one starts in October. I guess it’s hitting us both that it’s our last trip.”

“Mr. Ackles, you can say show.” Jared and Jensen stare at him in surprise. 

“My daughters are fans, and I know more about the Winchester brothers than a man my age should.” Dr. Rodgers ruminates, “Mr. Page, if you are ready for me to continue?” Jared nodded as Jensen wrapped both of his hands around his free one.

“After I received the results, I spoke with a specialist in Alpha genetics. They looked at all your tests and came back with a conclusion I’ve never heard of before.” The doctor laid a printout on the desk, “This is a visual aid to help me explain.”

“Chemoattactants are what a female’s egg releases to attract the sperm to it. You know how it works from there; sperm meets egg, sperm penetrates the egg, and viola, fertilization. Alphas sperm has evolved to inseminate all three sub-genders, whereas male Omegas sperm is sterile since they possess both reproductive organs but only need to utilize one.”

The doctor sets all three of Jared’s tests and the standard example on his desk for them to see, “the chromatin structure you carry, Mr. Page,” he points to the highlighted section, “has altered so that the eggs of Alphas and Betas are chemorepellent to your sperm, rejecting fertilization.”

Jared sat still-shocked, blankly staring at the results lying before him, vaguely feeling Jensen reaching across their bond again. He could hear Jensen's hesitant inquiry does this means he’s infertile, like he’s standing across a chasm.

“It’s why you could not conceive with your previous Beta spouse, and no medical intervention is available to help you.” Jared is numb and vaguely registers the doctor's voice. His dreams of little Padackle pups scampering around their home had figuratively been salt and burned. In the recesses of his mind, he’s aware of the conversation around him, but the longer it goes on, the more his brain tunes out.

~~~

The first thing Jared became aware of was fingertips caressing his face, softly wiping away wetness off his dampened cheeks. Slowly blinking, a blurry figure comes into focus.

Jensen is sitting in front of him. 

More accurately, he’s sitting cross-legged between his splayed legs on the floor, making him frown as more senses come back online.

How did he end up with his back against the desk instead of the chair now off to his right?  “I don’t..what happened? I was looking at the results, heard you asking, then nothing.”

“You passed out,” Jensen answers in his rough, Dean voice, “and scared the ever-living shit out of me! When your eyes rolled back into that big head of yours, I thought you were having an aneurysm!” Jared opens his mouth, “Be quiet!” Jensen’s Alpha overrides his normal voice, “you are completely stressed out, and it’s fucking with you! You had to add pushing for pups on top of,”  counting off on his fingers, “this fucking quarantine shutting down Supernatural, keeping our businesses afloat, getting Walker going, ending up hospitalized. It's no wonder you couldn’t handle the doctor's explanation.”

“Explanation of what?” Jared Alpha lashes back, leaning into Jensen’s space with flashing red eyes, “that I’m infertile, sterile, shooting blanks..”

Jensen’s normally warm green eyes bleed into a fierce red, “shut that fucking mouth, or I swear I’ll deck you.”

Jared’s mouth snapped shut in surprise.

They had gotten into many arguments over the years and got in each other’s faces a few times, but this was a first. Jensen had never, ever threatened physical harm.

Well, somewhat that time, Misha’s malicious innuendo set him off during a panel, then stupidly went at him again afterward. Jensen gave him a shove ordering him, as his Alpha mate, to cool off before he had to intervene.

Jensen’s jaw ticked as he mentally counted to ten, “Dr. Rodgers said that you couldn’t impregnate another Alpha or Beta, right?”

“Right.”

“The part you zoned out is that your sperm will fertilize an Omega’s eggs.”

Sighing heavily, Jensen crawls over a leg to sit against the desk, watching Jared pull his legs up, wrapping his arms around them, resting his chin on his knees, processing this information, and began gently rubbing his back.

They had mutually agreed on a Beta donor, but now this problem threw a wrench in their plans.“Maybe this is a sign we’re rushing into this again. Let’s take a step back and consider all our options,” he stopped, feeling Jared’s muscles stiffen under his hand.

“I’m not considering anything else, and I’m not stopping.”

“Wait, what?”

Jared lifted his head, “I realize this isn’t what you want, so don’t worry, I’m not gonna hold you to our agreement.”

When Jared spoke in that tone, Jensen knew that was it, end of the discussion, mind made up, “I’m going to find Dr. Rodgers and see if he’s willing to help me. If you want to leave, go to Uber.

“Fuck!” Jensen closed his eyes and thumped his head against the desk, knowing he had screwed up, and there was only one way to make it right.

***

If he had to, Jensen would’ve begged Jared to let him stay, admitting he was wrong and being open to an Omega as the donor. Jared wasn’t appeased but still relieved his husband didn’t take the out he’d given him.

The three candidates they met with were intelligent, attractive, lovely-scented O’s in their twenties that any Alpha looking for a mate would seriously consider. They all left Jensen wanting something more.

“I like aspects of all three. But honestly, babe, I’m not feeling it with any of them.”

“Maybe you’ve reached that stage where you’re looking for more substance, less aesthetic.”

“Did you just call me old?” 

Before Jared responds, Dr. Rodgers enters, “Mr. Bonham, I surmise from your expression that you found none of the candidates suitable.”

“It’s not that I don’t like them. There wasn’t a..”

“Connection, that’s normal. Just because you're an Alpha doesn’t mean you want to knot every Omega who crosses your path,” he says, peering at his watch.

“We’re at the end of our appointment, but I have one more donor I’d like you to meet. She doesn’t exactly fit your physical preferences Mr. Page, but this omega is special. And she’s willing to be the surrogate too.”

The doctor opens the door, and the O’s unique piquant scent envelops them before entering.

“Mr. Page, Mr. Bonham…this is Quinn.”

tbc

Part III

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