#so i had a little snack before sorting out my laundry. and then i saw my plants that sit near the washing machine and had to water them

[moonchild-in-blue]

laundry,,

Hello?? This is so sweet, thank you!! 🥺💙✨

I'm rewarding myself with a little passion-fruit mochi ice-cream, you can have half of mine if you want 🤲

[buckymorelikefuckme]

fri(end)s

bucky barnes x fem reader

words: 3.8k

warnings & tags: **18+ ONLY** friends/roommates to lovers oh my god they were roommates, smoking weed, brief mutual masturbation, frottage (i think that's the right word idfk i'm all out of practice), p in v sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that), reader has nipple piercings bc i said so, slight pain kink? mayhaps? ok pls let me know if i’ve missed anything!

a/n: i made this fic my bitch tonight. this is absolutely not proofread or beta'd, you're just gonna have to take it for what it is, sorry not sorry. anyway, it’s been too long since i wrote for this beefy man :’) i really hope you like it. this was originally very loosely inspired by a scene in what’s your number? but it quickly gained a mind of its own to become what it is now, so. there ya go. title is from the song of the same name by V of bts thank you very much. any and all mistakes are my own. feedback is greatly appreciated and heavily encouraged!!! xoxo

bucky barnes masterlist || main masterlist

Bucky’s introduction to weed was something you’d been supremely proud of.

When the two of you became roommates, you both had been kind of quiet and kept to yourselves at first, which isn’t too unusual, but you noticed that Bucky almost always had a frown etched into his handsome face. A frown that only ever softened after a night out with his friends and, you assumed, a decent hook-up. It never took long for that frown to reappear, though.

You didn’t know what could have been so stressful for him, but you knew he needed a way to relax, and not just for himself, either. The sight of him glumly moving around the apartment—honestly, you’ve never seen someone make fixing a bowl of cereal look so fucking sad—was beginning to weigh on your own nerves.

So, naturally, you thought of asking him if he’s ever tried weed. Somehow, his frown had deepened at that question. He said no, shocking absolutely no one, and then you asked if he wanted to try it. Admittedly, he was a little hesitant at first, but he eventually agreed.

The way his body, all two hundred and whatever pounds of muscle and angst, sank into the recliner like a ragdoll when the high really hit him made you grin. Though, to be fair, you were already smiling, what with you also being high. It was the first time you saw a real, genuine smile from Bucky, and you were immensely pleased to have given him a way to decompress from whatever kept him so tense all the time.

It became a sort of thing for you two. Saturday nights were for getting high, binge-watching Love Island (UK, because you both have class, thank you very much) and raiding the pantry for all the good snacks when the munchies hit. You’d never tell anyone, but those nights quickly became something you looked forward to every week, something you could cling to when your own life got a little difficult. Who knew smoking weed—and on a few special occasions, doing edibles—with your roommate would make a friendship blossom so prettily?

***

After how late Bucky got in last night, you knew he’d be sleeping in and would more than likely have a hangover. So, for this particular Saturday morning, you get up and quietly start gathering your laundry while Bucky snores loudly into his pillow from his bedroom. You were getting behind on it anyway, down to your last pair of clean shorts.

Before you put them on, though, you purse your lips in thought, staring at your pile of dirty clothes. You didn’t want to put on clean shorts with the panties and shirt you slept in last night. It would be smarter to wash them with the rest of your clothes, right? But that would leave you topless, which, you wouldn’t exactly be opposed to it, but you’re not sure Bucky would appreciate waking up to you walking around with your tits out. Or maybe he would? Whatever, it doesn’t matter.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts and then remember that Bucky did his laundry yesterday, and knowing him, he probably left at least some of his clean clothes in the dryer. Surely he wouldn’t mind you borrowing a shirt.

With that plan in mind, you dump your clothes into your laundry basket and make your way down the hall to the doors where your washing and drying units are (a major selling point of the apartment, if you’re honest). Just like you thought, Bucky’s left a load in the dryer, and even some of his button-downs are hung up on the drying rack. You quickly pull your t-shirt off, shivering against the cool air, and reach for one of the hangers, slipping his shirt off of it and onto yourself. For a dress shirt, it’s actually quite comfortable, obviously one of the shirts he wears more often with how soft and a little worn the fabric is. You shimmy your panties down your legs and add them to your pile, grabbing your clean shorts and tugging them on, too.

You make quick work of starting your first load of clothes, closing the doors to muffle the sound of the washer, and head back to your room to do your morning routine. By the time you’re done and have also cooked yourself breakfast, Bucky is staggering down the hall and into the kitchen, hair a tangled nest atop his head and eyes bleary.

“Good morning, sunshine,” you greet with a teasing smile.

He flips you off and beelines for the coffee machine, pouring himself a cup and not speaking a word until he’s downed at least half of it. Part of you is concerned for his esophagus, but you’ve long since come to the conclusion that Bucky’s probably got a thing for pain—both physically and emotionally.

“Remind me to tell Sam he isn’t allowed to bring Natasha on our nights out anymore,” he grumbles, voice rough from both sleep and a long night of drinking. “I’ve never taken so many shots of vodka in my life.”

You hum. “Sounds like my kind of woman, actually.” He cuts his eyes at you, silently judging while taking another sip of his coffee. “Want me to fry up some bacon and eggs for you?” You almost laugh at the way his expression immediately switches to pleading.

The rest of the morning is spent finishing your laundry and putting it all away, even gathering up Bucky’s clothes that he’d left and dumping them on his bed. You’ll leave the folding to him, though; your generosity only extends so far, after all.

Lunch rolls around and you both decide to order takeout from the burger place down the street, Bucky shushing you when you keep insistently whispering for him to order extra truffle fries (which he does order, after you’ve sworn pain of death if he doesn’t) and once it arrives, the two of you settle around the coffee table in the living room, putting on a random movie to watch while you eat.

And of course, when the sun begins to lower on the horizon, you start pulling out your stash and getting everything ready. Bucky’s already got the windows open in the living room to let the smell air out as you smoke, and he also has Love Island queued up and ready to go.

While you smoke the first joint, you make the conscious decision to bake a small batch of brownies for later. Bucky sits on the counter beside you, passing the joint back and forth as he quietly watches you work. Wordlessly, you hand over the bowl and spoon to him after you’ve poured the batter into the awaiting pan. No matter how many times you’ve tried to warn him about salmonella he always insists on licking them clean.

Sometimes, in these moments, you forget how surly he used to be with you. Not that he was ever rude or anything, but he never would have pouted about not being able to eat raw brownie batter before you helped him break down some of those walls of his.

***

“He’s such a dick,” Bucky mumbles a while later, face impassive and tone bland as he refers to one of the islanders of the show, slouching so deeply into the couch he’s practically become one with it.

The high from the first joint is finally kicking in fully, doing its job of releasing every ounce of tension from your bodies. It’s also making your mouth dry and tummy rumble for snacks. Thank god you made those brownies and Bucky unearthed some candy from past movie nights and lots of chips out of the pantry cabinets.

You hum at his comment. “Most men are.”

Bucky turns his head in your direction with an affronted expression that has you snickering. He goes to reply, giving you the sassiest once-over you’ve ever seen, but his eyes doubletake on your torso and he pauses. He stares for a moment.

“That’s my shirt,” he states.

You look down at the shirt in question, of which you’ve worn all day long and somehow he’s only just now noticing.

“Wow, you’re like Sherlock Holmes or something,” you drawl.

Bucky stares some more, and then, “Why are you wearing my shirt?”

“Because I had laundry to do and I needed something to wear while all my stuff was washing,” you say in a “duh” tone.

“But…” He frowns. “It’s my favorite.”

You snort inelegantly. “Bucky, you literally have, like, at least four other white dress shirts.”

“So? What, I can’t have a favorite one just because I have more of the same color?”

“Christ,” you say on an exasperated exhale. “I’ll give it back before bed, okay? I don’t wanna move right now. I’m scared I’ll bump into stuff again.”

Bucky huffs a laugh at that, which turns into a full-blown giggle fit that is contagious. Soon after your shared laughter dies down, the conversation moves back to the illicit love triangles among the islanders. You trash talk the couple that Bucky likes, just to see him get riled up and rant about how they’re the most real couple of the season and everyone else is just jealous. He gets red in the face and pouty when you remind him that this is a heavily produced show about pretty people getting a chance to get famous for being pretty people by hooking up with each other and playing stupid games that mean nothing in the grand scheme of it all. Really, it’s quite cute.

To placate him, though, you get a second joint rolled and let him take the first hit.

***

Turns out this second one hits you rather harder than normal. It feels like your head is a balloon and your neck is the string tethering it to the rest of your body. Everything feels much more sluggish compared to all the other times you’ve gotten high with Bucky. Somewhere in the depths of your hazy brain you remember that you’d gotten a different brand this time around; perhaps that’s why.

On the tv, the islanders are getting ready for bed, and once the lights go out in their room, some of the couples engage in some serious heavy petting, lifting their comforters for a semblance of privacy. The sounds start next, sighs and low moans, and it all begins to settle into your subconscious. Between one lazy blink and the next, you realize you’re… actually kind of horny. It’s not enough for you to really pay attention to it, not at first, just a little sprinkle of it, a tiny twist in your core that briefly has you pressing your thighs together then relaxing again.

But then the arousal builds up inside you so slowly and easily that you don’t even realize your hand has apparently grown a mind of its own and found its way down your shorts. You inhale sharply at the touch of your fingers against your clit, lashes fluttering as the sensation registers. The sound gains Bucky’s attention from where he's been lounging on the opposite end of the couch with his head tipped back and eyes closed.

They’re not closed anymore. Out of your peripheral, you see his head shift in your direction, feeling the weight of his stare like a physical thing. Your mind is both connected and disconnected from your actions, half-aware that this is probably not the smartest thing to be doing, that you’re absolutely crossing a major boundary. Touching yourself in this way in front of your roommate, your friend, is so not normal.

Yet, for some idiotic reason, you leave your hand down your shorts, continuing to lightly pet at your clit, neediness rising steadily. Even though you know he’s watching—and suspiciously quiet—you can’t help but let your fingers slither down to where you’re beginning to drip to gather some of your slick and bring it back to your clit and swirling your fingers at a sedate pace, sighing as your nipples tighten underneath your shirt.

Bucky is as still as a statue, gaze honed in on the movement of your hand, on how your thighs ease open more and more the longer you play with your pussy.

It takes very little time for your eyes to wander over to the man just a couple feet away, and to then notice and fixate on the growing bulge in Bucky’s sweatpants. The weight of his stare is almost a physical thing and you swallow roughly as you think about what he might look like, if he’s at all how you’ve secretly imagined when you’re alone in your bedroom, in much the same position as you are in now.

His hands creep towards his thighs and smooth down the expanse of them and back up, slowly, over and over, like he’s teasing himself. Like he’s teasing you. Your fingers don’t stop as you lift your other hand to tweak and pinch at your nipples through well-worn cotton, a tiny noise slipping past your dry lips.

Bucky pulls the hem of his shirt up, exposing part of his toned stomach and only hesitates for a split second before he lowers the waistband of his pants, pulling his cock out and matching the pace of his strokes with the pace of your fingers. The head of his cock is pink and precum makes it shine under the low light of the lamps in the living room.

You bite your lip as your arousal increases from the sight alone, and you decide to follow his lead, just a bit. You whine from the loss of stimulation when you remove your hand to shimmy your shorts down and off your legs, letting them fall to the floor carelessly. And now, Bucky has an unrestrained view of your glistening cunt as you sink two of your fingers inside yourself and use your other fingers to rub all around your clit. It has you gasping, eyelids threatening to close through the pleasure that sparkles throughout every vein in your body.

It’s good. Amazing, even. And it’s only making you want more. Bucky, it seems, feels much the same.

“C’mere,” he rasps, tone leaving no room for arguing, never mind that you wouldn’t have argued anyway.

You sit up on the couch, knee-walking over to where he’s still in his slumped position, never pulling your hand away from your clit because it feels like you’d cry if you did. Bucky curses under his breath and lets go of his cock to firmly grab you by the hips and tug you onto his lap. Your pussy ends up aligned perfectly with his cock, and you both shudder as you begin gliding back and forth across it, small movements that only increase the suspense of what likely comes next. He meets your eyes, red and glazed over from both the high and the toe-curling feeling of his cock along your wet center.

The kiss, when it happens, tastes like weed and the peanut M&M’s you both were snacking on just a little while ago. Bucky's tongue licks into your mouth like he can’t get enough, nips at your bottom lip to hear you whimper, gets a fistful of your hair and pulls and guides you until you’re pliant for him.

He knocks your hand away from your clit, but before you can complain about it he’s nudging the head of his cock against your entrance and you’re gasping all over again, grinding sloppily as you try to get him inside you. He finally sinks the head in and you allow gravity to aid you in taking the rest of him, moaning brokenly and high pitched at the stretch of him inside you. Bucky groans deep in his chest, hands clutching your waist like a lifeline as you slowly circle your hips, getting used to the feeling.

You stay like that for a few minutes, your breath and Bucky’s mixing hotly between you, and then you finally start fucking yourself on his cock. He grunts when you clench around him on the downstroke. You decide you like the sound, and you really wanna hear it again, so you repeat the action, moaning when the grunt is accompanied by a curse and his fingernails biting into your skin.

It takes what feels like ages for you to realize your thighs and knees ache from riding him, the weed making everything feel like it’s floating, including yourself, but Bucky sees the furrow in your brows and the shaking strain of your legs, and in the next second, he’s got you both moved from the couch to the floor. Time ticks on glacially slow like molasses as you stare up at him whipping his shirt off from where you’re sprawled on the carpet, your limbs shifting lethargically when he spreads your legs to better fit himself between them.

He fucks you hard, but not fast. you’re both much too high for anything fast, yet it still feels like your heart is going to pulse out of your chest, rabbiting away like you’ve run a marathon. Bucky buries his face in your neck, mouthing at your skin while he thrusts almost lazily.

Suddenly, his large hands encapsulate your hips, fingers pressing into the fleshiest parts of them as he sits up, getting his knees under him so he can rest on his haunches. He keeps your ass in his lap and your legs spread on either side of his waist. It makes your back arch and hips tilt up into a position that has you shuddering and sobbing when he begins to grind his thick cock deeper into you.

“I could stay buried in you for hours,” he mutters.

He reaches for the throw pillows on the couch and puts them under your hips, and then he fucks into you so hard it steals the breath right from your lungs, your mouth hanging open on a silent cry. His thrusts are sharper now, angled to perfection and making your toes curl so hard you fear them cramping and body jolt when he glides all the way back in. You gasp when Bucky rips open your shirt (his shirt, your mind helpfully supplies) and sends the buttons scattering across the floor. Those will be a bitch to find and clean up, but that’s a problem for much later.

“Fuck,” he grunts when he sees the piercings glinting in your nipples. “I fucking knew it,” he continues, squeezing each of your breasts in his hands and pinching your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, making you gasp again, pushing up into the sensation.

“Knew—“ You cut off with a whine when he pinches harder. “Knew what?”

“You walk around here wearing those goddamn cropped tank tops as tight as possible with no bra. Thought I was going crazy when I saw what looked like piercings underneath them,” he confesses as his hands travel back down to grip your waist, never losing his rhythm while he pulls you down to meet his thrusts.

At the sight of your tits bouncing with the movement of his hips, he groans, gravelly, his top lip curling as he grits his teeth and squeezes your hips so hard it hurts, and it only adds to your pleasure. With the way your skin is tingling, your pussy fluttering around him nonstop, you’re not sure if it’s because Bucky is fucking you that well or if it’s the weed. It’s probably both, and you have a split second thought that you’ll just have to test that theory once the high wears off.

It’s almost ironic, you think, how wet and messy your cunt is compared to how dry your mouth feels. It probably doesn’t help that your jaw seems to be permanently slack as you’re unable to stop your gasping inhales, only to exhale sounds you might be embarrassed about if you were clear-headed. Alas, your mind is a lot more focused on the way Bucky is splitting you open and carving a space inside you all for himself.

“So much better,” you whisper absently, fingers clawing at the carpet beneath you.

“Better than what?” he wonders, shifting to grip under your knees and push them up, changing the angle.

You cry out sharply, writhing uselessly in his hold. “My imagination,” you whimper.

Through bleary, tear filled eyes, you glance up at him just in time to see his lips pull into a boyish smirk.

“Mine too,” he confesses and sends you reeling.

You whine and reach down quickly to rub your throbbing clit, your whole body jerking as your pleasure mounts higher and higher. Bucky moans as he watches, stare trained on where you’re joined. His speed does pick up then, the slightest bit, a shudder wracking his frame as you clench down on him, head tipping back and exposing the long expanse of his throat for a brief moment before he suddenly leans over you, letting your legs fall into the cradle of his elbows.

“Won’t you be good for me and cum?” he asks, breathless, hips never letting up.

You open your mouth to reply but all that comes out is a strangled cry of his name, your fingers keeping their pace as your climax swells until it overflows, bursting like a firework and pleasure like you’ve never felt before sparks through every vein, muscle, and bone within you. Bucky curses in such a way it would make a sailor blush as you pulse around him. The sounds of your orgasm and his thrusts meeting your hips are the filthiest things you’ve ever heard, and it doesn’t stop for several moments, dragging on and on. It leaves you trembling and shaking and trying futilely to gather air in your lungs as he refuses to let up.

With great resolve, you bring your wet fingers away from your sensitive clit and up to his panting mouth. He groans at your taste, licking and sucking on your fingers as he chases his own release.

“Please,” you whisper, tears finally escaping your lashes and trailing down the sides of your face, and that seems to be his undoing.

Bucky moans, something high and broken, fucking into you rough enough that you’re worried about carpet burn. But then he pauses, gasping as he finally lets go and rides out his high.

Your hand slips from his mouth and falls to the floor like a deadweight. The only noise in the room now is the both your and Bucky’s harsh breathing and the television still playing that stupid fucking show. Bucky doesn’t move right away, of which you’re very thankful, because you’re not ready to feel the emptiness you know is coming, and it feels nice in a weird way to have him buried in you.

“Fuck,” he exhales, breaking the relative silence.

It makes you giggle, a small thing that turns into something uncontrollable, and when you manage to look at Bucky, he’s grinning in a dopey way that sets you off even more.

This is definitely something the two of you will have to talk about when you’re both sober, but like the buttons, that can be handled later. Although, something tells you it’ll all turn out just fine.

[stillmonsterz]

GAM3 BO1

pairing: heeseung x reader

genre: smut

summary: reclusive gamer heeseung offers you the chance to live in a decent place in exchange for your companionship.

warnings: unprotected sex, swearing, voyeurism, dubcon, somnophilia, jerking off, exhibitionism, coercion, humiliation, anal sex

word count: 3.7k

--

The man you’re looking at in this coffee shop does not look like he could pay rent anywhere, let alone cover most of yours. He looks like he should be scrolling imageboards in his mother’s basement as he dines on high-fructose corn syrup. His eyes have bags, his skin is pale and sallow, his overgrown bangs reach below his eyebrows, and he’s so thin that the sleeves of his button-up hang from his arms. He peeks at you under his eyelashes, smiling shyly.

“You seem like a good fit,” he says quietly, fiddling with the handle of his mug of coffee. “And like I said, all you would have to do is clean up, do the laundry…make sure the place isn’t a complete pigsty.” He laughs softly. “God knows I’m awful at that.”

“Well, I can do that,” you say slowly, leaning back in your chair. “I still don’t understand why you’re being so generous. I mean, you could just get a maid. It’d cost you less money, too.” You don’t mention that the apartment is ridiculously nice for the pittance he would let you pay for it, and it’s in a choice location in the city. When you saw the ad for it on the roommate app you had downloaded, you had thought it was a scam. But then, you were so desperate that you were willing to fall for a scam. As it turns out, the apartment is real – he had sent you a video of it at your behest – and the owner was definitely real.

Heeseung – Heeseung Lee, a single computer programmer that had come into an undisclosed yet presumably exorbitant amount of wealth following his parents’ passing – laughs again, a self-conscious chuckle that quickly dies in his throat. “Well, to be honest with you…I just get lonely. I mean, my work is all online, and I don’t have many, uh, friends. I sort of just stay at home and play…” Heeseung’s voice becomes hushed. “play video games. It’s sort of pathetic.”

“Nothing pathetic about that,” you say quickly. He’s so earnest, it tugs at your heartstrings. “I think this could be a great arrangement.”

Heeseung looks up at you, and his eyes are shining. He smiles at you, tilting his head. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You smile as well. “And I’m a pretty good companion, if I do say so myself.”

Heeseung’s eyes flicker down, lingering below your collar for a full five seconds before he looks back up at you. “You know, I think you’ll be a great companion for me.”

--

Your first week living in his apartment is relatively peaceful. Relatively is the operative word. Your room is comfortable, stocked with plain furniture. Heeseung gives you carte blanche to decorate it as you wish, which is nice. Cleaning up after him is a simple affair, too. He deposits his dirty dishes and takeout containers outside of his door at regular intervals – 6 pm, when he wakes up and orders something, 8 pm, when he remembers to eat something, and 2 am, when he needs a snack to keep him going. You got home from work at 5, so it wasn’t hard to accommodate him. He exclusively eats Doordash, which saddens you a bit. When you made pasta for yourself one day, you decided to knock on his door and offer him a bowl of it. His eyes had widened, like you had offered him  a plate of solid gold.

“Really?” he’d said, receiving the bowl.

“Yeah, of course.” You had smiled at him sympathetically; it was really so easy to please him.

Heeseung had grinned at you. “Thank you, thank you.” He had taken a large bite of it and closed his eyes, nodding and pointing at the bowl. “You’re so good at cooking, wow. Wow, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“No really…you’re an angel. Like a domestic goddess.” Heeseung had looked you up and down. “You’re like a cute little maid.”

You laughed and walked away.

 His eating habits were one thing, but some things he does mystify you. He refuses to let you inside of his room, blocking your view of the door. You can catch a whiff of stale air whenever the door is cracked even slightly, which piques your interest. “It’s just really messy in here,” he’d tell you nervously. Heeseung only really comes out of his room to play Overwatch on the Smart TV in the living room. Other than that, he asks you periodically to bring him things when you get home from work.

There’s also one other issue: you swear your panties are going missing. Your favourite pair of panties has vanished, as well as a pair you generally wear when you’re on your period. You take care of all the laundry (including Heeseung’s own filthy boxers), so it’s impossible that you could have misplaced them. You don’t push anything, though.

Today is weird, though. When you get home, there’s a medium-sized package outside of the door. It has Heeseung’s name on it, so you bring it to his door and knock. “Heeseung, there’s something for you.”

Heeseung cracks the door open, his hair having grown even longer in the week you had been here. “Oh, no,” he says, pointing with a bony finger, “that’s for you.”

“Aw, Heeseung,” you say with a wide smile. “You got me something?”

Heeseung grins at you and shrugs. “It’s the least I can do. You do so much for me…I hope you like it.”

You excitedly open the package, but your smile drops when you see its contents: a cheaply-made maid outfit with spaghetti straps, white lace trim, and a skirt that would cover your panties and little else. “You…want me to wear this?”

“Yes,” Heeseung says, reaching out to touch your shoulder. “Come on, it’s just a dress. No one else will see.”

You sigh. He practically lets you live here for free, so you might as well play along. “What, you want me to wear it right now?”

Heeseung nods so vigorously you’re surprised his head doesn’t roll off his skinny little neck. You turn away to head to your room to change, but Heeseung’s grip on your shoulder tightens. “No. Change here.”

You whip your head to face him. “What?”

His gaze is steely now, his previous shyness having seemingly dissipated. “Change in front of me.” Then, as though he had been momentarily possessed, his softness returns. “Please? I don’t ask you for a lot, right?”

You swallow your pride and put the maid outfit on the ground. First, you remove your hoodie, revealing your tank top. As you fold up your hoodie, you can see Heeseung’s hand furiously moving in his boxers, which causes you to freeze.

“Keep going,” he says hoarsely, leaning his head back. Dread pools inside of your gut as you continue to strip. Soft, strained moans spill from Heeseung’s lips as he watches you strip down to your underwear. When you put on the maid costume, he carefully adjusts the straps of your dress with his slick hands. “Very nice,” Heeseung says. “Turn around for me?”

You turn, and you can feel the cool air of the apartment hitting your ass- the dress is that short. “So good,” Heeseung whispers. “You can take it off now.”

Your hands fumble with the hem of your dress, but Heeseung laughs. “Not here,” he says, removing his hands from your shoulder. “In your room, silly. And after you’re done, bring the dress to me, okay?”

You’re too dazed to question his instructions, and you’re all but too happy to get out of the dress. After you’re done changing, you hand the maid outfit to him. He smiles and takes it without a word.

Things go by relatively smoothly after that, and you almost wonder if you made that incident up. The only thing that has changed about his behavior is that he comes to see you more. Not for long, only a few minutes per day. If you make cookies, he’ll ask if he can try some of the dough or try a cookie. If you’re doing the laundry, he’ll ask you about your day as you fold.

You’re currently on your hands and knees scrubbing a particularly obstinate white stain on his couch when you hear Heeseung’s voice behind you. “You know, you should wear leggings more often,” he says.

You don’t turn to look at him. “Yeah, why?”

“They make your ass look perfect,” he says with a laugh. “Of course, it looks best naked.”

You’re about to ask him how he would know how your ass looks naked before he’s already wandered off. About two minutes later, you can hear him in his room playing a low-grade pornography, his own moans mixing in with the fake screams of pleasure from the women. You put your headphones on and try to drown the sound out- even the sound of Heeseung calling your own name.

This goes on for a while, and it only gets worse. Now he leaves his door open so the sound of him jerking off echoes through the apartment. When you’re trying to sleep, you can hear the severely un-titillating sounds of the brother-con hentai he watches.

One day, you’re rummaging through your underwear drawer trying to find your comfortable, plain bra. You realize that it’s missing, and your anger reaches a boiling point. You stomp over to his room and knock on the door. “Heeseung,” you growl.

Heeseung opens the door nonchalantly and smiles. “Hi,” he says innocently, “could you clean my room for me?”

“Could I what? Heeseung, did you steal m-,”

“And could you wear this while you do it?” As if he had been expecting you, Heeseung walks over to his bed and hands you the maid outfit, your missing bra, and that pair of your favorite panties. All of them were coated in globs of cum in various stages of hardening, especially your panties.

“Heeseung!” You take a step back from him. “I’m not doing that, for fuck’s sake.”

Heeseung just smiles at you. “I think you should.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Either you wear this, or make you pay your share of the rent.” Heeseung leans towards you, and you can smell his fruity, sickly breath. “The choice is yours, of course.”

“You’re insane,” you say, leaning away from him.

“Whatever. Now get in the maid outfit.”

Tears well in your eyes as you head to your room to don the most humiliating outfit you’ve ever seen. When you put the bra and panties on, his cum oozes out of them and drips onto the floor.  The maid outfit is sticky all over, and you shiver. You don’t even look yourself in the mirror before leaving your room to see Heeseung again. His hand is already wrapped around his dick by the time you walk out, his boxers resting around his ankles.

“Wait, wait,” Heeseung says, holding up his free hand. “Don’t walk to me. Crawl to me.”

The humiliation forces your head down as you sink to your hands and knees and crawl towards Heeseung. When he sees you at his feet, Heeseung smiles, still stroking his cock. “Such a cute little maid,” he says. “Now get up on your knees, come on. Be good.”

You prop yourself up on your knees, so that you’re level with his crotch. “Now,” he says softly, “open wide.”

You close your eyes, open your mouth, and Heeseung slides his cock into your mouth. When he does, he moans loudly, and he grabs at your hair. Heeseung fucks your mouth like it’s a pussy, and the musty state of his cock makes you gag the entire time. His balls slap against your face, and he keeps whimpering pathetically. His other hand reaches down and squeezes one tit after the other, and within no time he’s pulling his cock out of your mouth, tugging it hurriedly, and finishing all over your face. He tugs his boxers up to his waist again and sighs. “That was great,” he says, affectionately ruffling your hair. “Whenever you’re ready, you can come inside my room and tidy it up. I know it bothers you that I’m so messy…”

Your jaw is too sore to speak, and for a moment you just lie there on the floor in the hallway. None of it seems real, none of it makes sense to you. The worst part of it all is that you can feel wetness pooling in between your thighs, which makes you groan softly.

A little while later, Heeseung emerges from his room. He crouches down and strokes your hair. “You want me to get you something?” he asks soothingly. “Some water, juice?”

“Water would be nice.” You cough a few times. Heeseung gets up and comes back shortly with a bottle of water that he opens for you. You pull yourself up so that you’re sitting, legs crossed, and you drink the water while Heeseung pats your hair comfortingly. Once you calm down, you and Heeseung head inside of his room.

It’s disgusting, which is an understatement. The bed is unmade and piled with stained pillows, the floor is spattered with cum, his bookshelf is a horrid mishmash of coding textbooks and manga, his closet is filled with clothes, of which only half are on hangers. His desk area is relatively clean, but one of his three monitors is playing some filthy pornography. The other has Discord open, and the third has some weird game you don’t recognize open. Worst of all is the pocket pussy resting on his gaming chair.

You sigh. Seems like you have a lot of work to do.

--

Over the next few months, you start to realize that Heeseung is treating you like a pseudo-girlfriend. He changes your contract so that he pays for virtually all of the rent, as well as the groceries. He even gives you a hefty monthly allowance, enough that you can start building up your savings.

Of course, you doubt that a regular boyfriend would treat you the way Heeseung does. For one, ever since you cleaned his room the first time, he expects you to clean it every day while donning a humiliating outfit of his choosing. He likes to have you walk around in the apartment wearing striped microkinis, plaid skirts with black G-strings, nurse costumes, maid outfits, and an elaborate swimsuit cosplay of his favorite League of Legends character. He’ll watch you as you clean his room clad in whatever skimpy outfit he’s gifted you, commenting on your body. Other times, he’ll come up behind you as you’re in the kitchen or living room and grope your ass or tits before wandering back to his cave. That’s what he does on a regular basis.

Lately, he’s been fucking you. It started when you were eating a bowl of cereal before heading off to work. You had heard his room door creak open, then his dragging, lumbering footsteps.

“Good morning,” he had whispered, placing his hands on your shoulders. “You’ve got a little something…”

Before you could say anything, Heeseung had licked the tip of his finger and swiped up the bit of milk lingering by the corner of your mouth. He stuck his finger into his mouth, still hovering over you. Every time you took a bite of cereal, trying to finish up as quickly as you could, he would wipe your face and then suck the milk off of his fingers. His other hand rested on your shoulder, rubbing it slightly, until it slid down lower and lower. As he ran his thumb against the corner of your mouth, he slowly began groping your breasts. Heeseung pressed his lips against yours, both of his hands fondling you.

You had pulled your lips away. “Stop. I just ironed this shirt…”

“Sorry,” he had said, buttoning your shirt from behind. As soon as it was sufficiently open, he groped your tits directly, his lips on yours. He had a greedy, selfish way of kissing you; his tongue would slither down your throat, gagging you. Heeseung had unbuttoned the rest of your shirt, then he pushed your cereal to the side. He pushed you down onto the dining table, your chest pressing against the wood. You could feel his hands tugging your damp panties to the side.

“Such a nice pussy,” he had murmured. You heard him spit, then you felt cool fingers pumping themselves in and out of you. You bit your lip so you couldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan. Heeseung only prepped you just enough to get you wet, then he stuffed himself inside of you, inch by inch.

Your hands curled, desperately trying to find any purchase. It had been a long time since you had anything inside of you, and you welcomed the pleasure. But you couldn’t let Heeseung know that.

His gnarled fingernails dug into your soft flesh as he pounded away at you. He wasn’t particularly vocal, only making soft moans of pleasure. Sometimes, he would drag himself out of you, then slam back inside. He smacked your ass. “Just look at that shit jiggle,” he said breathlessly. “I want to try that out next…”

With that, he had slid his fingers into your tight hole, and you couldn’t hold back a gasp. Heeseung pumped his fingers in and out of the band of muscle, widening it. You had never taken anything up your ass before, and your toes curled in fear and anticipation.

You felt him slip out of your pussy, and the painful stretch of his cock opening your asshole replaced the pleasure you had previously felt. Heeseung groaned as he fucked your ass raw, only the precum that had dribbled from his cock for lube. Fortunately, he didn’t last, pumping your ass full with hot cum before pulling out of you. “Your pussy is definitely better,” he had muttered before walking away. While you rested against the table, trying to recollect yourself, you heard him booting up another game of League of Legends. With a palpable sense of shame, you finished yourself off right there as your cheek pressed against the table, your fingers wildly swirling against your engorged clit. You came with a shudder, then you darted into the bathroom to clean yourself up and go to work.

He never fucked your ass again, but your pussy and mouth were fair game for him. Whenever he sees you now, wearing the outfits he picks for you, he shoves his fingers down your throat. Once your throat is pliant and his fingers are coated in your spit, he either make you blow him or he fingers you wherever you are, his other hand stroking all over your body. Then he goes back into his room while you’re there, dripping wet. Heeseung likes having you wet all the time, so he can fuck you at his convenience.

Like right now, he was playing another game of Overwatch, hunched over his controller and eyes laser-focused on the screen. You were on your hands and knees, pushing yourself back and forth on his dick. This time, he had made you wear a cow-print bikini, complete with a bell; every time you fucked yourself on his cock, it would jingle.

“Fuck,” Heeseung says, voice ragged, “my team’s Tracer is so shit at kiting. It’s such a basic concept.”

“That really sucks,” you say through gritted teeth.

Heeseung reaches his hand out and touches your cheek, rubbing his thumb along your lips. “You’re such a good listener,” he coos, lazily thrusting as he removes his hand and continues playing his game. He soon stops moving, and you have to pick up his slack, rocking yourself as fast as you can so he can cum and be done with it. “Ah, stop going so fast,” Heeseung says, lightly slapping your ass. “I want to sync my nut up for when I use my ultimate.”

As you heed his instructions, you squeeze your eyes shut and tell yourself that homelessness is a far worse prospect than this, homelessness is bad, you wouldn’t like a homeless shelter.

It wasn’t like he didn’t jerk off anymore, either. He did, maybe even more than before he started using you. Heeseung liked to spread his legs, milk his cock right in front of you, then lick up the cum off of the couch while he told you to play with yourself. Whenever you got close to cumming, he would tell you to stop and do some task for him. Then, when you were scrubbing the dishes or wiping down his desk, he would plunge his cock into you and fuck you until you were twitching and crying out. Other times, he would make you sit in his room with him. He would sit you on his lap while he watched some degenerate hentai, and he would make you jerk him off while he fondled your tits and rubbed your clit.

Once, you went to bed early because you had a hard day at work. Your dream is odd; you’re running from a ghost in a dilapidated mansion. You can’t see it, but you can feel its presence. Then you feel it catch you, its hands wrapping around your waist, your tits. The ghost rubs your body slowly, almost tenderly, and you can feel its hardness pressing against your ass as you’re suspended in the air.

When you open your eyes, you realize that it wasn’t a dream, not quite. There is a hand that has slipped under your shirt, caressing your chest, and another hand on your waist. And someone is humping you, whimpering as he does. Quite belatedly, you realize that your pajama pants have been pulled down.

“Heeseung?” you whisper sleepily.

“Shh,” he says, “just go back to sleep, okay? I’ll be done soon.”

You’re too tired from everything to fight it, so your eyes flutter shut. Heeseung slowly thrusts into you, almost like he doesn’t want to wake you, and you smile slightly at the sentiment. He fucks you lazily and slowly, and only speeds up when he’s about to cum. He cums inside of you and uses his fingers to push his seed back up.

“Thanks for letting me do that,” he whispers before leaving you alone.

As you’re drifting to sleep again, you can hear him telling someone to, “Fucking stop camping.”

This is still better than being homeless.

[anonsally]

Days 8-9 in Australia

Yesterday was New Year's Eve (Australia being in the future [compared to the US and Europe]).

It didn't start out very well: Wife tested positive for influenza A. She felt a little better than the previous day, actually, but she was undeniably unwell.

The daytime was fairly low-key. We did some laundry, I went to buy snacks to bring on our trip to Western Australia, and I packed my clothes. In the evening, Wife's sister and I took public transit [bus, train, another bus] to the flat in Neutral Bay where she and her husband used to live [her mother-in-law inherited it, and her brother-in-law is currently staying there with his fiancee and their baby]. It has a balcony with a spectacular 270-degree view of Sydney Harbour, including the bridge (though the view is looking directly along the bridge, not perpendicular to it) and part of the opera house roof. It's thus a pretty great place to watch the New Year's Eve fireworks. Wife didn't come because she was ill, and her brother-in-law didn't come because he had to work.

So it was me, Wife's sister, her in-laws (including the parents-in-law), and a sort-of friend of the mother-in-law with her friend.) The baby stayed awake the whole time, more or less (there may have been a brief nap at some point). She was very cute.

We put together a huge antipasti tray for everyone to choose things from, and there was Bowle (a peach white-wine punch). I had some nice chats with the in-law-in-laws, and we admired the view. At 9pm the kids' fireworks happened. We had more food and I watched a little of a documentary show about the urban birds of Sydney, which I'll hopefully get to see more of before I have to leave, but it wasn't really the right situation to be able to give it my full attention.

We did some cleanup around 11:30. At midnight, we toasted with champagne and enjoyed the spectacular fireworks display. Then we lit sparklers and took photos... But we hung out quite a while afterwards, leaving sometime after 1:30. We got a ride most of the way to a station and then took 2 trains to our neighborhood and walked 15min. back to the house. (On the first train, our car was probably about 30% young, German, very drunk, and singing badly with great enthusiasm at top volume. I think about 30% of the people in the car were entertained by this, while the remaining 40% were deeply annoyed.) It was still really warm out and I was utterly exhausted. We got home after 2:30am and I didn't turn out the light until 3am, which is much past my bedtime.

Today, New Year's Day, was also our departure day for Western Australia. I slept till about 9:45am. We finished packing and ate. Wife's brother-in-law seems to have caught her flu, but her sister and I are still okay... Wife is feeling a little better, though her nose is still very runny. The fever is definitely gone.

The travel part of the day did not go very smoothly:

The first rideshare car showed up and then drove off right away without letting us in.

The second one stopped, but when the driver saw that there were 3 of us and how much luggage we had, he said we needed to order a larger vehicle.

Luckily, the third one was big enough for us and all our stuff, and he took us to the airport.

Although Sydney to Perth is a domestic flight, we were flying out of the international terminal on the same plane that does a nonstop Perth to Paris (!!!!!) flight. That made check-in extra complicated because none of the electronic stuff was prepared for that scenario, even though we were not the only people doing it.

So they had to give us paper boarding passes with a special sticker that we had to sign, and which then had to get rubber-stamped (literally) by someone when we went through passport control. We also had to take the special security line for families with small children in order to get to the right people for the rubber stamp.

Once we were finally in the terminal, it went okay until we boarded the plane.

I was very disappointed to find that my "window seat" had no window, unlike all the other window seats! If I craned my neck I could see a little bit out of the window for the row behind me.

Nobody sat in the middle seat between me and Wife's sister, which was lucky. Wife was on the aisle across from her sister.

Wife's sister managed to spill her tomato juice.

I did at least get the last chicken meal they had.

On disembarking in Perth, we had to show our boarding passes again and get manually checked that our passports matched our boarding passes.

We did get our luggage okay and were picked up by a shuttle to the car rental place.

However, the car rental had been booked through a 3rd party and the actual rental company didn't have documentation that the second driver was supposed to be included.

Furthermore, it turns out that there are some weird-ass restrictions on where we can take the car. Most car rental companies only want you to drive on paved roads, which is not unreasonable. But this company also says that the "unlimited kilometers" in the contract will be completely invalidated if we go certain places, including anywhere east of Esperance. The Main Reason to go to Esperance is that there's a spectacular national park just east of it, and that's an important part of our itinerary on this trip. But it will add hundreds of dollars if we take the rental car there, because there is a tracker in the car. So it looks like we will have to find some way to pay someone to take us through the park, which is super irritating when we thought that having the rental car would be enough. [Also included in the areas we can't go are anywhere outside a city after sunset. What?!]

On the positive side, I saw a new bird at the airport while waiting for the shuttle: a pair of red-tailed black cockatoos! I also saw a Willie-wagtail harassing a magpie about four times its own size, and I believe a galah flew over the car while we were driving.

We drove safely to our Airbnb in Fremantle, where we will stay for 2 nights. We befriended an adolescent kitty who lives next door, and the apartment is very nice.

We found a grocery store and bought some essentials, came home and ate a few raw vegetables and, in my case, the crackers and cheese I was given on the plane. Now it's time for bed, because tomorrow we go to Rottnest Island to meet the quokkas!

[never-not-ever]

Night before/Admission Day

Of course we're not starting things out on a good note. It was mild, nothing compared to a month ago and how bad it could be but I didn't go to the ER. Honestly I was so done with everything and I think I had a mentality of "if they want to send me out the minute I get to the CEC then fine".

Trying to think of the night before it gets fuzzy which is weird cause I don't think I drank with the ativan. Maybe I did? I have this memory of going back and forth sipping cream soda and hard cider. But I can't remember if it was that night or another night. I remember taking 2 pills with celsius and I think I made a post about it on here if the two cancel out? But I can't remember taking the other 2/last 2 pills I had left.

Honestly it would explain the void in my memory. Like I didn't go to sleep, didn't even try to sleep that night yet I can't remember the hours up until I showered around 8:30? I actually think I was running late and was afraid I'd be late to my 10am admission, but like what would it have mattered if I was lol. I have a time stamp of the scale at 9:14am. Which speaking of that horrible thing... Ugh last year when I went inpatient it I was 36lbs lighter!! Jesus christ. I'm only up 15lbs since the day I discharged back in August. Which means I gained 20lbs during my entire admission. But my weight was constantly going up and down. I remember back in January I weighed less. I never did the weigh ins on Sunday the entire time I was here. Except occasionally but I made it a "blind weight for them" and weighed myself like in the corner so they couldn't see the number.

Okay moving off the topic of weight which has nothing to do with this post....

The night before I came here I kept procrastinating cleaning and laundry and packing and even when I had all my clothes and luggage in the kitchen on the table and counters I was still putting it off and getting distracted with other things. I think I ended up doing a last minute rush job with vacuuming in my living room. I kind of sort of remember showering and getting ready in the bathroom but the hours before that.. nothing.

I do remember on the drive here I was so tired and we were at a red light and I dozed off and my Nana got so worried.

I was afraid I was bringing too much. Looking at that picture I know the suitcase had clothes, that blue tied handle bag was food and snacks and my tumbler but that black floral bag... I don't even remember what I put in it.

When I got to the Clinical Evaluation Center they take everything (obviously) including my phone. I couldn't even keep a book which was strange but I just ended up sleeping or trying to.

They did my covid test which hurt like a bitch. Funny how some people aren't as invasive and others it feels like torture. Then she gave me a mask (absolute idiot) until my test came back.

I don't even remember the actual intake sessions just that the first one was with an MHS and the second was with a nurse. During all the waiting I hung out in the tv/lounge room and the chairs reclined which was nice. I got a blanket and pillow and tried to nap. I think I snacked on like a banana and pieces of a very dry blueberry muffin. Then I met with a doctor and talking about meds was fuzzy cause I told her how I stopped them and wasn't really taking them but then said how I'd take my prn and sleeping med occasionally.

I think I finally got up to the unit a little before 2pm because I remember the announcement for the 2pm fresh air walk. I saw some familiar faces especially when I had to wait in the hallway while my room was being cleaned. I saw the two girls (ones actually a few years younger than me and one is like in her 50s lol) saying "girls" sounded weird and like I needed to clarify.

The charge nurse who I always thought didn't like me did my intake and she was super nice and kept saying "hun/honey". She says that to everyone but it made me feel nice. It was very quick, she said something like "do you want me to go over everything or...." and I asked if there were any new rules and she said no and so that was that. She looked at the cuts and scratches on my chest from earlier that morning. I do know that I was honest and mentioned it downstairs in the CEC during my intake but they didn't ask to look at it. Maybe they thought it was the same as my (uncovered) chest and not that bad. But the nurse on the unit put a med consult in to make sure it wasn't infected, it's not, it never is.

I finally got to my room and ironically its one of the ones I was in the last time I was here. Unfortunately it's on the side where you can see in when the door is open. I was on this side for a few weeks in October last year and then I was switched to a single in November while on the 1:1 and after that I was switched back into this room but was on the other side luckily. I was in this room for I think 2 months, the majority with my friend who's still here. It was this room that had mold in it. Right near my bed lmao, and we had to move out.

Anways back to yesterdays boring chain of events. Once I got to my room I immediately tried to take a nap. By this point it was like 2:30ish cause I remember briefly seeing the checks person start her hour. She was one of my favs last time. I tried to sleep but it was so uncomfortable with these hospital pillows and the blanket and pillow I brought had to go through the dryer for 30 mins and I guess it was a busy time in the laundry room. I was trying to avoid having to leave my room but I ended up going to the nurses station to ask for my pillow/double check the stupid rule of it needing to go in the dryer...

I forget what time it was but when one of the cousnelors started her rounds on checks and was all nice and "hey Deb, do you need anything" I asked if she could check on when they'd be able to go through my belongings. Then a little bit later, I honestly don't think it was that much later but two counselors came in with all my stuff and started going through it. I liked those two so it was nice to see them again. We chatted a little while they went through things and then one of them who was strict/good at her job asked in the end "is there anything I missed that's going to pop up later?" and I smirked and was like "is that a trick question" and she was like "just trying to cover my bases". But I didn't sneak anything in from home. I almost said to them "the only thing I was tempted to sneak in was a really nice pen" but honestly that might not have been well received. But it's true. I'm not trying to start things off on the wrong foot especially since this is a voluntary admission and I reached out for help. Like how fucked up would it be if I snuck in stuff to hurt myself with right off the bat. Granted I did that throughout my admission last time when I went out on passes so I know they have their guards up and might even think I still managed to get something in. I don't blame them.

Once I got my clothes and stuff I folded and put everything away. My nurse for the evening came in during my belongings and introduced herself to me. She's new to the unit. I think she came right after I left but I already like her.

We had a check in and I asked her to rebandage my arm because the charge nurse who covered it tbh did a horrible job 😅 and it was way too big and covering newer scars that have been so itchy and irritated lately.

After that I went back to my room and don't really remember the order of the rest of the night but I know I saw those two girls playing cards and got introduced to some lady and younger guy. Then my roommate walked in and they all seemed nice. It became apparant that I knew the two girls from a previous admission and then my roommate was like "oh youve been here before, so you're all set..." sort of trailing off a question of thinking she'd tell me about the unit/show me around lol. She's a little older than me and super sweet. I was talking to one of the girls how it's weird being in our old room and the younger guy chimed in and said something and then was like "oh you guys know each other" and I was like "yeaaa me, blank and blank go way back" and me and the younger girl laughed.

I made some ramen since I already know the food here is shitty. I mean it's not always crap but it's not the best. Last time I resorted to just eating my own food like microwable stuff and snacks.

I think it was around 9 when the older girl texted asking if I was heading to bed or up to chat and so we hung out for a little while catching up and it was nice.

Then I made some english muffins, watched a little Will & Grace and then headed to my room at 11 when they close the common areas.

I "got ready for bed" which I'm going to try to do more while I'm here, like washing my face and brushing my teeth. I was worried spending so much time in the bathroom they'd think I was up to something but it was change of shift and honestly I don't even care.

When I came out I saw this girl who always works overnights and she's the best. It was just a quick hello in passing but it was nice to see her.

I was going to stay up late but I was exhausted and fell asleep before midnight and shockingly without any meds. But it makes sense since I didn't sleep the night before. I also didn't know if my trazodone was even in the system just cause of the weird interaction with the doctor in admissions "I'll put x, y and z in for now and you can talk to your doctor on the unit about the other stuff" and I forgot what the "x, y and z" were lol.

That was pretty much it. As if that wasn’t just 10 thousand paragraphs 🙄

[dreadsuitsamus]

ELS BABY!!! Tell me about your relationship dynamics with Bulma and Vegeta🎤🩷 (ignore it if you don't want to. i hope you have good day/night :3 mwaah)

baby i love you so much for this ask skahfskdurheh 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷 answer below the cut since it got a little long teehee 🤭

also have the most wonderful day/night, my love! 🩷🩷🩷

bulma and i were happily married for seven years before we ever even met vegeta. we met as teens and the sparks flew almost instantly and those sparks have never left! but living with vegeta (this was actually at my insistence! i am too soft) made us slowly realize we had room for another and it made a perfect dynamic

bulma and vegeta are definitely bold and their personalities clash at times, and thus they do the majority of the arguing. i often end up as a mediator between them, though sometimes i just let 'em fight lol especially if it's over something extremely petty (one time they argued over if it's "sock sock shoe shoe" or "sock shoe sock shoe", with vegeta winning that one since i've always secretly hated that bulma does "sock shoe sock shoe" when getting ready 🤢)

neither of my babes can cook, and with veggie man's appetite i had to step my game up. it's not due to a lack of money for takeout or a private chef, but more so my pride lol i took classes and i learned how to make better meals for them! not just taste wise, but balance wise as well. i make sure they get alllllllllll the proteins they need, especially vegeta for his training. vegeta and i have a secret though, which is that he loves texas toast but hates loving something with such a 'ridiculous' name so he never, ever asks for it to be included with a meal. i'm not dumb though, i see how his eyes light up when i make it! so i make it at least once a week with dinner, just for him. sometimes i even make it for him as a midnight snack, since it's so easy to make. he my baby<3

bulma and i do all the pda. when the three of us are out together, you'd never know vegeta is our man. he's not into public affection, and that's just fine with me and bulma since we still have each other to hold hands with or smooch when we're feeling a little needy. vegeta will blush a little when he sees us kiss in public, and if we blow him a kiss he pretends to not like it but secretly he's just ready to go home so he can get those kisses for real. one time bulma and i got drunk during a night out with the girls and when vegeta came to the club to bring us home (he missed us lol) we smothered his face in smooches and he turned redder than bulma's lipstick when he saw all the lipstick stains we left. it may have been the booze, but watching vegeta try to wash it away was funny 🤭

i ended up in the role of housewife, basically. vegeta trains most of the day, and bulma goes to work doing her scientist thing. sometimes it gets a little lonely for me to be home all day and doing the housework, but it is also the most relaxing feeling lmao these two brats are a lot of work!! but when they come back home my heart is definitely full again<3 also bulma's laundry is the worst bc so many of her clothes are dryclean only or have some sort of bs way to clean them. vegeta's laundry is so much easier to do and that's why he gets an extra kiss from me on laundry day. bulma gets her extra kiss every other day of the week though, and for no special reason. she my wife and i like to smooch her<3

when i have a bad day after running a bunch of errands, vegeta will listen to me rant until i tire myself out and opt to just snuggle with him while he watches tv. he knows i just need an outlet for my rage and has no problem being the one to hear me. bulma, however, will be the one to want to go find the people that gave me a hard time, especially if it came from an employee, and then she ends up being the one vegeta has to listen to until she tires herself out and opts for tv snuggles. it's mostly petty stuff when i rant about my day, though if it's particularly bad then vegeta himself will want to find the people that upset me and deal with it his way

and then it's us listening to vegeta rant until he gets tuckered out and needs tv snuggles

[dvlaunchpad-mcquack]

Out of all the friends you made over the years, including the ones in Duckburg, why is Drake your best friend?

Aww gee… I’m blushing!

Erm. Well. I do have a lot of friends, and they’re all pretty special! Without Gyro, I’d never have completed the hydraulic thingamabobs I needed for the Thunderquack to have a moveable bill that can launch a net, a spear, or a motorcycle! Without my little sis, Loopy, and Mr. McDee making me fix so many planes in so many locations in record time, I never would have figured out how to make a plane I could fly (and land!) even with my eyes closed! Hehe. And without Mr. McDee’s grandnephews and Webby believing in me and encouraging me to keep pushing to earn my last Junior Woodchuck Badges, I might never had learned to swim, or realized I could do more than lead a Junior Woodchuck Troop and fly stunt planes!

I’ve seen firsthand how hard it is to be a hero, especially after going in disguise as a spy once, and after trading places with my Buddy Gizmoduck for a day. If I had not gotten a big slice of humble pie from the Beagle Boys and Dr. Nogood, I might have kept…believing I could be a hero on my own…

Ahem. But enough blathering. What was your question again?

Oh oh! Right! Drake!

Hey wait a second… How do you know my best friend is named Drake? 🤨

Oh. I, uh… guess I just admitted it out loud, huh?

Well. To be honest, he’s probably the first person who saw me as more than a screwup when we first met. I, uh, may have kind of beat him up first. Heh. Anyway. He believed in me! He gave me a real fighting chance! I still screwed up but I wasn’t about to let him down again! He needed backup and that’s one thing I can do right!

When I found out he wanted to adopt a kid, I offered to split the rent with him so he could get a permanent address in a nice neighborhood. I didn’t make much with Mr. McDee, but I still had a pension from my spy gag and for landing a space shuttle safely, and a few other heroic gigs I did, so I could sort of help out. We both work for the same organization, so that helps, too.

He’s great with kids, too! I’ve always loved kids and now I can watch all the romcoms, sitcoms, cartoons, and (ulp) horror films I want, with my best friends, and play games, and make snacks, and help with keeping the car running, and the laundry, and what not.

It’s not all fun and games, or about needing each other. We argue with each other sometimes, just like any family does. But we care about each other enough to swallow our pride some days and figure out a compromise. We get each other. Somehow, I can read him without Drake even saying a word… I never could do that with Donnie, Mr. McDee, Duckworth, Gyro, Mrs. Beakley, or the kids. It’s pretty neat! I mean, he does talk a lot. But sometimes he just needs someone there to fill the emptiness beside him, and cheer him up.

Sometimes he seems to know what I’m going to say before I say it, too. It means he listens to me. Nobody else ever really let me finish any of my stories, or heard me sing show tunes before, or supported me through all my fears and worries. Like worrying that Santa won’t get through a blizzard! Or that a harpy will track me down some day. Yikes!

What was I talking about again? I got a little sidetracked.

[bike42]

Tuesday September 3, 2024

I could hardly sleep last night, anxious to get started on this long awaited adventure!

We were up at six, dressed to hike and had the final sorting of what goes is the pack and what stays in the suitcase. Since our room had a scale, we determined our final weights, which was of course more than our “practice pack” weights!

Packs with water (and hiking sticks):

Susan 18.2 lbs

Jeff 20.8 lbs

We had breakfast and the hotel arranged for a driver to take us to the Lisbon Oriente train station. We arrived about 30 minutes before our train, which was perfect. We were relieved to find that Portugal followed the same system as virtually all European cities, easy for us to figure out. We had 2 seats, facing backwards though, in the first class compartment. We read, napped, read and napped for the three hour journey.

We arrived in Vila Nova de Gaia just after noon. I’d selected this station on the south side of the river as it looked like it had the shortest walk to the Cathedral, which is the official start of the Camino Portuguese (you can walk it from Lisbon and even further south, but it’s not well marked or supported).

We walked the 1.7 miles to Cathedral using Google Maps, with some uncertainness! Over a viaduct and a large bridge, that had a lane for the street car, and for pedestrians (cars must have been underneath). The Cathedral is undergoing renovations, so there was some confusion about where to go to get our credentials stamped. While in line to pay to gain entry to the cathedral, pilgrims coming out wished us our first buen camino and I was surprised at the wave of emotion that washed over me!

We got our stamp and headed out into the hot and windy afternoon. We saw few official markers, but basically we just had to get down the hill to the river, and keep the water on the left!

The waterfront was active with walkers, cyclists, runners and people on electric scooters. It was mainly a well developed waterfront, with buildings in various states of repair, from very nice to almost bombed out looking!

About 4 miles in, we were ready for a break. We were almost at the end of the river, and we stopped at a shady spot and had a coke and a snack from my bag while we rested our feet and legs.

We rounded the corner, then we were walking along the ocean, and it was stirred up today! There were people on the beaches, but no one swimming and the life guard stations had red flags flying. We walked through a beautiful park, where we were delighted to find public toilets!

We continued up the coast until we came to Matosinhos, where I’d booked accommodation through Expedia - a nice updated house with rooms, a common hot tub in the little courtyard and breakfast in the morning. We asked about a stamp for our credential, and were directed to go to the Tourist Information office at the beach. We showered, did some sink laundry, and headed out to get our stamp and some real food. Lucky for us, the TI was open until 7p and we got our stamp and bought scallop shells for our packs (signifies we are pilgrims), but not good was most restaurants don’t start serving until 7p and we were hungry and exhausted. We searched until we found a family run seafood place where we shared Couvert (olives, bread and some kind of spread), a fresh salad and seafood rice for two and a carafe of green wine. It really hit the spot, and I felt good about being adventurous eating (taking the heads off my own prawns now)!

Back to the room for some tea and chocolate (I’ve carried two bars this far and it’s time to lighten my load). San, Matt and Janet are at the MSP airport and we’re so excited to see them tomorrow!

Walked 8.4 miles (average 87 miles)

Spent $238 on food and accommodation

Pilgrim’s Blessing:

Almighty God, you who has called your servant Abram out of the Chaldean city of Ur and watched over him during all his travels, you, who were the guide of the Hebrew people in the desert, we ask you to take care of us, your children, who, for the love of your name, start our pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela.

Be for us companion on the way, guide at the crossroads, strength in weariness, defense in danger, shelter on the way, shade in the heat, light in the darkness, comfort in despair and firmness in our intentions.

So that we, with your help, might arrive safely at the end of our journey and enriched by grace and virtues, might return safely to our homes, filled with everlasting joy.

We ask this through Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, One God, for ever and ever.

May the blessing of God Almighty, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, be with us and remain with us always.

Amen

[glilboy]

ATEEZ Reactions to finding you reading smut about them: Maknae Line

i tried so hard to finish this afterworo and before bed lol. the first part did, so well? im genuinely shocked ill be honest. hope this one is just as good.

requests are open btw!!

tws below the cut

Warning! This work of fiction contains mentions of quirofilia, strength kink, dom/sub dynamics implications and general explicit topics

San:

"Baby just let me play it I just want to get us to the same level," San whined at you about a game you both played. He practically coaxed you into playing but now you genuinely enjoyed it, being hesitent to let him get you farther.

"I want to experience it myself though Sannie," you pouted back at him leaning your head on his shoulder.

"I just want to do the things you've been avoiding! It'll give you enough experience to be the same level, please," his voice became higher pitched which was your call to just let him do it.

"Whatever," you said in a fake angry voice, instantly giggling, "you do that, I'm gonna go grab a snack." You hopped up and off the bed, leaving your phone for him to mess with.

Picking up your phone, happy he got his way, he went to open the app but one was already open.

Humming he read a bit and when he read his name he twitched a little. So this was what you liked. San made you extremely nervous which caused you to be a bit hesitant to share what you liked in bed. You planned to tell him one day but he hurried that process up.

Hearing you coming back he quickly opened the right app even though he now had no actual intention to progress you.

"I am back!" you smiled plopping down with some cut fruit.

"No shit," he mused causing you to roll your eyes with a smile. His brain itching to do something now, an idea popped in seeing you eat the fruit.

Taking a piece of strawberry he held it up to your lips, you unknowingly smiled and took the fruit into your mouth. His breathing accelerated. Waiting a few minutes before he took another piece, he at first popped a piece into his mouth then grabbing another to hold it up again. You took the piece but a muffled sound of surprise came out with it when san shoved his fingers inside a bit.

Looking at him wide eyed and confused you met his which looked at you intensely. You didn't even have a chance to stop yourself before you started to suck his fingers.

"Fuck," he mumbled his gaze going a bit hazy at seeing you like this.

After sucking on his fingers for a moment you let go with a pop.

"You should really let me read more of those stories Y/N," him saying that is what made it all hit.

"Wait- oh shit," you mumbled before he took your jaw in one of his hands squishing your mouth open. The other holding another piece and pressing it to your tongue.

"I would've known sooner just how pretty you think my hands are dear."

Mingi:

Mingi could feel his face turn red, not suspecting is seemingly soft tasted girlfriend to read stuff like this. He was just trying to help! You were busy cooking dinner and asked him to send a text back to your friend, forgetting what you were last doing.

He gulped and set down your phone once sending the message. He wanted to talk about it but he had no clue how to bring it up. Once seated eating dinner you could feel the energy was off since earlier he was in such a great mood. You chose to ask about it after the meal not wanting to have an awkward dinner.

Washing the dishes you didn't feel Mingi approach from behind until he wrapped his hands around your waist.

"Hm? What's up baby?" You hummed softly with a smile.

"Can you do the dishes later...I need to talk to you about something," He set his chin on your shoulder and you could just hear a slight pout in his voice.

Drying off your hands you turned around to look at him, "what's up Mingi?"

He leaned up and took a deep breathe making you a bit worried.

"I- um fuck- Y/N I saw whats on your phone," he hesitated before just ripping off the bandaid.

Your face instantly dropped mumbling a small "ah fuck"

You stayed silent with his hands sitting on your waist. You looked at him before speaking, "Gi, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Do you want to talk about how you feel about seeing it? I'm sure you're pissed."

He tilted his head questioningly at the end, "What no- I mean, like yeah it could be weird but you're reading about me so I don't see an issue, at least as of now."

You we're now pretty puzzled, a bit tongue tied. If you remembered right, the work you had been reading was well pretty aggressive so you were sure Mingi would be weirded out. He was a soft guy and you guys experimented occasionally but nothing that far.

Being able to tell you got in your head he spoke again, "I liked it. I...liked it Y/N."

Looking back at him, his hands tightened on your waist and he moved closer so your lips brushed each others.

"Please- Fuck, can we try it?"

wooyoung:

"Y/N! Can I use your phone for a second?" Wooyoung whined laying on the bed while you we're folding laundry. He wanted attention but you had chores to do.

"Why?" You looked at him weird, knowing he was up to something.

"You'll see," he smiled, just wanting to take selfies on your phone but opened it to a book of sorts.

Curiosity got the best of him as he skimmed the page, a faint blush creeping up his neck. You guys had done a lot but something in him was set off, a smile creeping up his lips.

"Pervert," He spoke deadpanned up at you making you frown before it clicked.

"Wooyoung."

"Y/N."

A moment passed before suddenly he popped up, grabbing your hair and forcing your face into the bed. A giggle sounded from behind you as he leaned down to talk into your ear, "You read stuff like that? You're that horny for just me that you read that kind of shit? Lord your fucking head over heels for me."

"Shut the fuck up-" Your voice got cut off as he lifted you up by your hair, a hand wrapping around your throat making your mind flutter.

"Say that one more time and I'll fuck your face until you pass out like that little book dear."

Jongho:

It was supposed to be a night filled with movies, snacks, giggles and cuddles but your bladder decided to change the trajectory of the night. Excusing yourself to the bathroom you left your phone on the table faced up, not remembering that you left your tumblr notifications on around someone. The phone pinged three times in a row, making Jongho curious to which he glanced over at it.

'c. j 10:15

strength kink'

"What," he said outloud.

Clicking on the notification he began to read the work, blushing at it and embarrassed that he..liked it. Licking his lips he looked around a bit flustered.

When he heard the bathroom door shut he quickly set your phone back down, trying to not awkwardly sit there. You came back like nothing was wrong, cuddling into his side continuing to watch the film.

This is where a few days passed, each day driving Jongho more and more up the wall. Hiding in the bathroom at the studio just to get off without the chance of being caught, at least by you. Scenarios spinning in his head constantly making him want to do anything and everything at once.

When he got home that day you weren't there, his need skyrocketing to the moon. He quickly made it to your bed room and moved to the bed taking off his shirt in the process. He searched around frantically for anything of yours, spotting a t-shirt a few feet away. He pulled down his sweats letting his member spring free, bringing the shirt up to his face to inhale your scent and began to jerk off.

You on the other hand just had your friend drop you off, you jumping up the stairs excited to bring home some pastries to your boyfriend. Coming inside you quickly slipped off your shoes and looked around for him. Seeing he wasn't in the living room you headed towards your bedroom asumming he was there. Opening the door to a sight to see, Jongho jerking himself off while smelling your shirt.

You stood there silent until he opened his eyes, him now being in such a deep mindspace he didn't even seem phased. Slipping his pants back up he waltzed over to you and stood there staring at you.

"I've been going fucking insane, Y/N," he spoke getting closer, shutting the door behind you.

"What do you mean baby?" You asked softly at him. He smiled a bit and lifted a hand to your shoulder making you inhale.

"Your little fucking stories Y/N."

You looked at him wide eyed, thinking you might know which one he saw. "Jo- Fuck I'm sorry, oh god," you began to frantically apologize.

That was when he picked you up and held you up against the wall with one arm, the other hand sitting lazily around your neck.

"No. No. You've been driving me crazy in a good way. Now let me fuck you against this wall unless you want me cumming in your t-shirt."

[usercelestial]

It’s cold and dark, winter raging outside of their broken down home on South Wallace and Fiona’s little brother recently diagnosed with bipolar disorder. She picks up a laundry basket and heads upstairs, rubbing her eyes and running a hand through her tangled, greasy hair. She needs to brush it, she needs to take a shower, she needs to sleep. 

But she can’t. She has laundry to do and bills to pay and meals to make. She has to take care of her little brother who she can't seem to reach. She wants to help, to monitor him, but every time she tries he pushes back, the rift already forming between growing with every worried glance and pill check. 

She saw what happened to Monica, she experienced it first, she picked up the pieces with every depressive or manic episode. She was the one who stepped in every time Monica left. Even though each time, a little piece of herself was taken with her. She knows the kind of pain caused by this diagnosis, not only to the people around the person with it, but the person themself.  

So sue her for being concerned. Sue her for being overbearing. Sue her for being an older sister stricken with experience in this field. 

She snaps back to herself when she runs into Mickey Milkovich, said little brother’s boyfriend. 

“Oh, shit, sorry,” she yelps, startled by his presence. He’s been staying with them, whether because of Ian or because of his own issues, Fiona’s not sure. All she knows is this is just another mouth to feed and ex for Ian to cry about. 

And if you ask her, he isn’t worth it. Mickey’s just gonna leave as soon as he realizes this takes work. He’s gonna break her little brother’s heart and tear him to shreds just like Milkovich’s do. But she’s stuck with him, this intruder welcomed by a vulnerable Ian who’s intrigued by his dangerous nature. That’s all this is, Fiona knows because she’s been there. 

“Fuck, be quiet,” Mickey rubs his eyes, the bags underneath dark and obtrude. 

Fiona opens her mouth to argue because are you fucking kidding me? You’re living in my house and you tell me to fucking be quiet? But just as she does so, Mickey points back to the room he had just stepped out of. 

“Ian just got to bed,” Mickey looks back at the ajar door. Peeking through the crack is a fluff of red hair and pale, chubby cheeks squished against a pillow. Fiona tilts her head at the sight, she remembers putting him to bed, the only way to get him to settle down was to give him a book to read. She called him sweetface, kissed his cheek, tucked him in tight and promised to not let the monsters bite. He would giggle and tell her that he’d protect her. 

That giggle. She would give anything to hear that giggle again. 

She shakes her head and looks back to Mickey, seeing him gaze at Ian with a similar sort of fascination. 

He turns back to her and looks down at the basket she’s holding, “You need help?” 

Fiona quirks an eyebrow, “You wanna fold clothes?” 

He shrugs, “Did it all the time to help out my ma,” Fiona apparently shows how taken aback by this she is because he immediately throws up his arms, “Unless you don’t fucking want me to,” he still keeps his voice down in a hushed tone so as not to disturb Ian who stirs slightly and pulls the blanket up over his head, snuggling deeper into it. 

Fiona doesn’t say anything more, she just jerks her head downstairs and sets him up in the living room. With that job out of the way, she slips back upstairs to find more dirty laundry to throw in the washer but she gets distracted. She finds herself leaning against the door frame of Ian’s room, staring at him. 

She watches as he squishes his face deeper into the pillow and twists around in the blanket. She watches with intense affection as her heart aches. She just wants him to be happy, that’s all she’s ever wanted for her kids. She can’t stand the thought of Ian being lonely or curled up crying like she was last night. 

She watches hoping she didn’t do a bad job but something inside her tells her to doubt herself. Fiona’s never been particularly stable, yeah, probably the stablest thing they’ve ever gotten but that doesn’t say much. Her relationships are flakey and her self depreciation always comes leaking through. 

Maybe Ian will do better. Maybe Mickey will be good for him. 

But maybe he won’t be. He is a Milkovich, she knows that family of thugs and criminals and abusers. Fiona ran into their father a couple times, him always scowling yet looking her up and down with hunger in his eyes. If that’s what Mickey’s been taught, then how does she know he'll be different? What if he hurts him or gets him involved in Milkovich bullshit? 

What if she can’t protect him? She needs to protect him. 

“Hey, all your shit’s folded,” Fiona turns around to see Mickey holding up a basket of neatly folded clothes, “I didn’t know whose shit was whose aside from Ian’s so I just guessed.” 

Fiona nods and takes it from him, she’s about to walk off and sort the impressively folded laundry when Mickey speaks. 

“Does this shit get easier?” He says it quietly, almost as if he hadn’t meant for Fiona to hear. But she does. 

“Hopefully, yeah,” Fiona answers honestly, making Mickey turn his head, his eyes shining with the hint of tears. 

He sniffles and crosses his arms, puffing out his chest and turning back to Ian. Fiona scoffs and watches him walk back to Ian. Ian gently stirring at the footsteps. 

“Ah shit, man. Did I wake you?” Mickey asks not as quietly as before but still soft. Ian shakes his head, lifting up the covers for Mickey to slide in next to him. 

Fiona walks downstairs before realizing she forgot to gather up the dirty laundry. Sneaking back, she overhears conversation from Ian’s room. 

“Fucking jackass,” Fiona’s ears perk up immediately. It’s Mickey’s voice. Then she hears rustling. 

She switches into Fiona mode as her kids have begun to call it, her mind flies to the worst possible conclusion. Mickey sounds mad, maybe they’re fighting. What if Mickey hits him? What if Mickey’s hurting him?  

Then she hears a sound she hasn’t heard in so long. A sound she would have given anything to hear again. 

Ian giggles. 

That bright, affection giggle. She can almost picture his scrunched up nose, his face lifting, unable to contain his glee. 

She peeks her head into the room just for a second. She sees Mickey leaning on one elbow, tugging, no, playing with Ian’s hair. He flips it into his eyes and twists it around his finger. Ian stares up at him with a glaze that’s coated in warmth and affection. 

Then Mickey spots her and tugs his hand away. 

“Just wanted to see if you guys needed anything. Mickey,” his demeanor returns back to defensive and something about his impulsive need to cover makes Fiona’s heart ache, “You can help yourself to snacks, just be careful with the cabinets, they’ve been known to snap off from time to time, alright?” 

Mickey nods stiffly, Ian chuckles softly at his awkwardness. 

“Okay, after I sort these, I’m going to bed, wake me if you need anything, sweetface. Don’t stay up too late,” she closes the door but her instincts kick in again so she opens it one more time, “And keep it over the covers.” 

Mickey’s face goes white and he stammers, a rare trait in a Milkovich reminding her that he’s still a teenager. Albeit a teenager with a record and knuckle tats, but a teenager nonetheless. And if he can make Ian laugh like that, make him forget for a moment where they are, then he’s welcome in her home anytime.

[lunar-wandering]

“this house is a frickin’ nightmare”

so i. decided to write something for the ‘Sitcom’ AU, which is basically just the concept that post-canon, everyone lives in the same house.... its Fun.

Word Count: 2.7k

Read on Ao3

-

"Monkey King, get down from the fridge."

"No."

This exchange is what drew MK's attention to the fact that something was happening in the kitchen.

In MK's opinion, it was far too early for something to be happening in the kitchen.

"Wukong, I swear, if you don't get down from there-"

"What- you gonna stab me? Pigsy, you know full well that method is ineffective."

"What is going on?" MK asked, entering the kitchen and, well, seeing exactly what he had expected; Wukong crouched on top of the fridge, staring down at Pigsy, who was glaring up at him.

Still though. Just because he'd expected to see it didn't explain why it was happening.

"Oh hey, kid." Wukong said, taking notice of him. "Everything's fine, you can go back to your room, breakfast will be ready soon."

"It would be done already if you hadn't burned it." Pigsy said, gesturing to the charred remains of what supposedly had been breakfast. "Seriously, can't you follow simple instructions?? Now we've gotta start all over."

"It's not my fault I'm a visual learner." Wukong said, his tail swinging back and forth.

"It was three steps-"

"What's going on?"

MK barely kept himself from startling at the new voice behind him, turning around to see a very tired looking Red Son.

"Breakfast burned." MK said, catching Red Son up on the situation. Red Son hummed in contemplation, walking into the kitchen, picking up a piece of the unrecognizable charred food, and, ignoring the other's growing horror, he ate it.

"...Tastes fine to me." He said, going so far as to grab and nibble on another piece as he turned and left, presumably heading back to his room. The remaining three watched him go in shocked silence.

"....This house is a frickin' nightmare." Wukong deadpanned. Pigsy nodded in agreement.

"Aptly put. Now get off of the fridge."

"No."

MK decided to go back to bed.

-

It was commonly known, within the household, that somehow, Tang and Wukong continuously managed to get out of doing their fair share of the chores. No one was quite sure how they did it, as the two of them kept coming up with new methods every day.

Today's method was..... interesting, to say the least.

Somehow, someway, they had managed to remove their names from the Chore Roulette Wheel, without leaving any trace that their names had ever even been there. Which was, in fact, rather impressive, considering that the roulette wheel was literally a giant wooden roulette wheel, built by Sandy, and there were no empty spaces were their names used to be, they were just. Gone.

To be honest, MK would've never noticed if Mei hadn't pointed it out.

Now, there was a house-wide search for the two chore-shirkers.

"Found 'em yet?" MK yelled down the stairs into the basement. A few seconds passed, then a unanimous call of "No!" came. MK sighed. If the Spider-gang couldn't find Tang and Wukong down there, then they probably weren't there. (.....Probably. Wukong did have a lot of tricks up his sleeves, and MK didn't put it pass his mentor to use them for something like this.)

That checked off the majority of the house.... which only left-

An enraged scream (courtesy of Mei) from upstairs confirmed what MK had concluded.

They were on the roof.

MK rushed to the stairs, running up them-

Only to pause as he heard a yelp, and a flash of gold fell past the window, followed by a loud thud. MK leaned on the windowsill to look outside, just in time to see Tang fall past it. Wukong, a few branches and grass in his fur from his rough landing, summoned his cloud to catch Tang, before zooming away.

As MK would later find out, in the haste to escape Mei's wrath, Tang had actually pushed Wukong off the roof. Wukong, in return, had unceremoniously dropped Tang on the ground the first chance he got.

Both of their names were back on the roulette wheel by the next morning.

....They still managed to get out of doing their chores though.

-

"Oh, hey Macaque." MK mumbled, tiredly rubbing his eyes, and Macaque, mid-way through stealing a snack out of the fridge, froze like a deer in the headlights.

"Uh.....hey, bud." He said, slowly closing the fridge door, glancing at MK, who was obviously very tired, then looking at the clock on the wall.

2:43 AM. Okay, he could work with this.

"What are you doing up so late?" Macaque asked, leaning casually against the fridge in an attempt to hide his nervousness. If MK had been more awake, he would've noticed and called him out on it, but as it was....

"Just woke up.... wanted to get a snack." MK said, and Macaque quickly opened a nearby cupboard.

"Here, have this." He said, putting a cookie in MK's hands, before grabbing him by the shoulders, turning him around, and gently shoving him back towards his room. "Now go back to bed."

"G'night, Macaque." MK said, nibbling on his cookie.

"Goodnight, MK." Macaque sighed, waiting until he heard MK's bedroom door click closed again before melting back into the shadows.

The next morning, MK thought he had dreamt the whole thing. After all, Macaque had vehemently denied the invitation to live in the house with everyone else, surely if he had changed his mind and started to live with them, someone would've noticed.

....Right?

-

"Monkey King?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you always sleep on the roof?" Red Son asked, "I mean, you do have a room after all, why don't you use it?"

"I just like watching the stars." Wukong said, reclining on his cloud. Suddenly, Mei and MK also appeared beside Red Son, with their arms crossed, looking unimpressed.

"You told me that beds were uncomfortable." Mei said.

"And you told me that you liked the breeze." MK added. Wukong's tail bristled a little, but he still didn't look over at them.

"Well, I mean, all of those are true." Wukong said, "Figured I would just... switch my answers up from time to time, keep things entertaining you know?"

"That doesn't explain why you slept out there in the pouring rain." Mei said, "In fact, the only time we've seen you sleep inside is when we have blanket fort night."

"...The rain was nice?" Wukong said, sounding uncertain. The trio narrowed their eyes.

"Is there something wrong with your room?" Red Son asked, and Wukong flinched.

"No." He said, finally sitting up and looking at them. "Really, my room's perfectly fine, I don't know where you're getting the idea that something's wrong-"

"You're doing that nervous smile again." MK said, and Wukong slammed a hand over his mouth in an attempt to hide what the trio had already seen.

There was a moment of silence, and in that moment, each member of the traffic light trio came to a shared conclusion.

No matter the cost, they would get into Wukong's room.

Almost as though they had actually planned it, the trio took off towards the staircase, ignoring Wukong's yells for them to stop. Hurriedly, Wukong summoned two clones, then rushed after the trio.

Red on got caught on the stairs, the clone grabbing hold of the edge of his coat and dragging him down. It wouldn't be able to hold him for long of course, his fire could quickly burn the clone away, but it would still manage to slow him down.

Mei was captured in the hallway, the clone pushing off the wall to tackle her, accidentally knocking her right into Yin and Jin's room, pining her to the ground as the twins yelped in shock.

...Which just left MK.

Having trained with the Monkey King, MK found himself easily dodging Wukong's attempts to catch him. Slightly out of breath, he skidded to a stop in front of Wukong's door, turned the knob, and opened it.

"I don't really see what the problem is, the room looks fine to me-" MK said, stepping into the room.

"Kid, wait-" Wukong started to say, but it was too late.

MK tripped, tumbling into the room, dispelling the illusion Wukong had carefully crafted and placed over it.

Wukong's room was a mess, to put things lightly. There was stuff everywhere- books, clothes, antiques, food, you named it, it was probably there. It was to the point where there was no place to sleep, the bed being covered in stuff. Which, well, that explained the whole 'sleeping on the roof' thing, but still.

Wukong nervously shifted from foot to foot in the doorway. Red Son and Mei, who had succeeded in freeing themselves, as well as Yin and Jin, who had gotten curious from all the commotion, stared over Wukong's shoulders, taking in the state of the room.

MK sat there for a moment, looking at the mess (and sure, MK's room was messy too, but this-), before slowly turning around to look at his mentor, a serious expression on his face.

"Wukong." MK said, and Wukong stiffened, his nervous smile growing wider at the sound of MK saying his name instead of his title.

"...Yeah?" Wukong said, chuckling nervously as MK's look darkened.

"...I'm getting Sandy."

"Wait, no no no-"

The rest of the day was spent cleaning up Wukong's room, sorting through the piles upon piles of stuff.

Wukong, in a bout of spite, still slept on the roof anyways.

-

Yin and Jin stared in shock at the scene in front of them.

Everyone in the house knew that Wukong and Tang adamantly avoided doing their share of the chores. (The roof-pushing incident was still fresh in everyone's minds, after all).

So that's why seeing Wukong doing the laundry was very out of place.

"...What are you two staring at?" Wukong asked, snapping the twins out of their shocked reverie.

"It's just....weird to see you doing the laundry, that's all." Yin said, and that-

Well, surprisingly enough, that made Wukong actually pause.

"It is?" He asked, slowly setting the laundry basket down on the ground, subtly nudging it under a nearby table so that it was now out of view.

"Well, I mean, with how you and Mr. Tang utilize every method possible to avoid doing the chores, we never thought we'd actually see you doing one." Jin said.

"...I see." Wukong said, quietly. "Well, in that case. You two saw nothing."

"Wha-"

Not giving them a chance to respond, Wukong flashed a peace sign, then vanished, leaving the twins to sputter in disbelief.

(Later, Macaque returned to the laundry room to pick up the clothes he'd left behind.)

-

Syntax paused as he stared at the sight before him.

"...What is this?" He ased, drawing the attention of the occupants in the living room.

"A braid train!" MK replied, and honestly, that's what it was. MK sat on the floor, braiding Bai He's hair, Bai He braiding Red Son's, who was braiding Mei's hair. Mei pulled one hand out of Spider Queen's hair to give Syntax a little wave before returning to braiding the queen's hair. Spider Queen gently weaved Huntsman's hair into a braid that looked above professional level. Huntsman was twisted at an odd angle in order to put some braids in Sandy's beard. And Sandy carefully created some tiny braids in Wukong's fur."

"I....see." Syntax said, holding up his phone and taking a quick picture before any of the braid train participants could notice.

"Do you wanna join?" MK asked, "You can either braid my hair or get yours braided by Monkey King. Your choice."

Syntax took a moment to think about it.

He ended up braiding MK's hair.

-

There was someone in the shower.

Now, usually, this wouldn't be such a mind-boggling thing, but-

All of the house's occupants stared at the bathroom door in trepidation.

"You sure Wukong didn't just accidentally leave the shower on again?" Princess Iron Fan asked, prompting some indignant sputtering from Wukong, who was sitting on Demon Bull King's shoulder. MK shook his head in the negative.

"No, I'm sure I heard someone moving in there." He said, crossing his arms.

"Why don't you or Monkey King just use your true sight and get this whole mystery over with?" Jin asked.

"Yeah, we've already been waiting for like, 20 minutes." Yin said.

"They're in the shower." MK said, "I'm not just gonna invade their privacy like that, regardless of who they are."

The shower turned off, and everyone turned to stare at the door again, in silence. There was some rustling around, and then the door opened.

Macaque. It was Macaque. Who, upon realizing that literally the entire household was standing in front of him, froze.

And then immediately tried to turn and run.

"Oh no you don't." Wukong said, jumping off of Demon Bull King's shoulder, and outright tackling the other monkey to the ground. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh, I live here?" Macaque said, sitting up and shoving Wukong off of him.

"You turned down the invitation to come and live with us though...." Wukong said, slowly standing back up. ".....How long have you been here?"

"Two weeks."

"Two weeks?!" Everyone went into various states of shock.

"How could we not have noticed you?" MK asked.

"You- you did notice me though." Macaque said, "Like, we had a whole conversation in the kitchen at around 3 AM."

"You think I remember what happens at 3 am?!" MK said, holding his head in his hands, and Red Son comfortingly patted him on the back.

"What happens at 3 AM stays at 3 AM." Red Son said, sounding like he was saying some ancient wisdom despite the actual sentence being utter nonsense. Yin and Jin snapped their fingers as a look of realization appeared on their faces. 

"That's why we saw Wukong doing the laundry the other day." Yin said, "It was Macaque in disguise!"

"....Yeah, I figured you'd notice if I didn't do some chores, just to clean up after myself." Macaque sighed, and Pigsy turned to glare at Wukong and Tang.

"See? Even the ex-villain does more chores than you two." He said, and Wukong and Tang purposefully looked away, whistling innocently.

"Wait." Mei said, "If you've been here for two weeks, and we haven't seen you use any of the bedrooms... then where have you been sleeping?"

As it turned out, Macaque had been spending his nights in the storage closet, curled up in the darkest corner of the room with nothing other than a blanket and a small pillow. The others, of course, deemed this as unacceptable, and pretty much near shoved him into one of the leftover bed rooms.

...Which he didn't even end up using that night, as it ended up being a night where everyone ended up falling asleep in the living room, blankets and pillows strewn about everywhere.

The next morning, Macaque wasn't there when the others woke up, and there was a brief moment of panic over the monkey's whereabouts-

And then said monkey walked back into the room, using the shadows to help him carry some trays with breakfast on it.

He paused when he registered that everyone was staring at him.

"....What?" He asked, "I woke up first, that means I had breakfast duty, right?"

"I mean.....yeah." MK said, graciously accepting his plate of food. "But, to be honest. I kinda expected you to burn it like Monkey King did."

"Hey, I did that on purpose. For Red Son." Wukong said, "Cause, y'know. He likes charred food. Apparently."

"You did not do that on purpose and we all know it." Pigsy said, "You were just as unaware of Red Son's dietary habits as the rest of us."

"...I literally just woke up and I'm kinda feeling attacked." Red Son mumbled, sitting up. "Should I feel like I'm being attacked?"

"No, you're fine, we're just calling out Wukong again." Spider Queen whispered to him, and Red Son hummed before rolling back over, clearly intending on getting a few more minutes of rest despite the argument starting to occur in the room. Macaque, for his part, remained standing frozen, with MK standing beside him, nibbling at the food on his plate.

"....Should I be concerned about this?" Macaque asked, staring at the fight taking place. MK shrugged.

"Nah." He said, "This is just the same shit as always."

[anonsally]

Day 7 in Australia

Today, Wife and her sister had booked a spa afternoon, so I got to have some quality birding time!

Wife's brother-in-law took me to first to a fancy bakery called Lune that specialises in croissants and related pastries. Since we got there after noon, they had run out of the morning bun I would've otherwise ordered, but I got an almond croissant which I snacked on later in the afternoon. It was excellent, though perhaps a bit overpriced.

Then he dropped me off at Sydney Park, which has some wetlands and large ponds and consequently also has some high-quality birds that were easy to see (as opposed to the little songbirds that one can only get brief glimpses of amongst the leaves in a tree).

It was early afternoon when I arrived and thus the worst time of day for birding. However, in 2.5 hours in the park I still managed to see 15 species of birds (albeit including a rock (feral) pigeon and a lot of noisy miners), including at least one that was brand new for me: the dusky moorhen. There were also Pacific black ducks, which was satisfying because that was my bird of the day on Merlin, crested pigeons (which have a comical hairdo), Australasian swamphens, including a fluffy baby!, Australasian darters (fancy!), a little pied cormorant, lots of little black cormorants, many Australian ibises in something like their natural habitat (so they weren't so bin-chickeny), an Australian pelican, gray butcherbirds, Australian magpies, Willie-wagtails, welcome swallows, and some sort of martin (not sure if it was a tree martin or a fairy martin. They're just too fast to get a good look at.). I managed to get decent photos of a few of the birds. I also saw a few turtles sunning themselves on a log.

Then I walked back home, which took about 45 minutes because I was tired and walking slowly (plus I stopped in a couple of health food shops and bought myself a chocolate covered frozen banana to snack on). It was nice to have to navigate myself, since I've mostly just been following Sister-in-law and not paying attention to where we are. Of course I had my phone and could use the map.

Wife and Sister-in-law got home a few minutes after me, and we relaxed for a bit before putting away the laundry and then having a low-key dinner. SIL's husband came home and joined us partway through. Then all of us except Wife, who's a bit under the weather, went to the flat where his brother is staying in Neutral Bay (also where we stayed the first time I came to Sydney). We will be celebrating New Year's there (the balcony has a view of Sydney Harbour), and we wanted to bring some supplies over ahead of time since we'll be riding the bus there tomorrow evening. The baby was awake and a bit hyper! Her parents were... not hyper!

[donutloverxo]

Tainted

*gifs not mine*

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Note - this is inspired by a hc @sweater-daddiesdumbdork once wrote me and gave me a frigging murder kink. Life ruiner😡😡

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Summary - Steve saves you and plans on never letting you go again.

Warnings - 18+ only, smut(m/f), kidnappings, being held hostage, murder, blood, non descriptive violence, captain kink, slight murder kink.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 6.8k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

One of the most amazing thing about living with you was that Steve never had to come home to an empty house. He was now responsible for you, he’d have to shoot you a text message, he had gotten pretty good at texting, thanks to your guidance, or call you, he definitely liked calling and hearing your voice better. He’ll always be old school.

You’d get that slight waver in your voice as you tried to pretend that you weren’t sad, he could see your cute little pout through the phone. And while he would never want to cause you any sort of pain, knowing that you’d be waiting for him, that you’re missing him when he’s away, made him feel wanted.

That even someone like him deserved love and happiness and a safe, boring life. That may be there was a reason he died only to wake up again in a strange new world.

That wasn’t to say you didn’t come with your own set of challenges. You were messy if anything, leaving clutter everywhere and putting off doing your dishes and laundry for days. Maybe not the most practical but definitely the cutest roommate in the world.

He’d learn to put up with it because it was worth it. Maybe, he could even learn to 'let loose' a little as people always recommended to him.

At first, he couldn’t wait to ask you to marry him. He had even impulsively bought a ring with your birthstone, he knew you were obsessed with them and astrology and maybe even dark magic. But then you surprised him with a date to an old diner and introduced him as your boyfriend to your friends.

He liked your friends quite a lot, he couldn’t really understand what they were talking about half the time. From what he could tell - by their fascination with his muscles and all the touching and squeezing to his biceps, them wanting to hear about his life before the ice - it seemed that they liked him too.

But hearing you call him that, your guy, your boyfriend, your beau, as your friend Stacey had put it, he decided that he wasn’t quite ready to let go of this blissful courting period. He was rushing things.

He needed to live in the moment and just enjoy being your boyfriend for now, he had all the time in the world to wife you up - preferably not to late though.

He was so unbelievably happy, ecstatic to see you, to surprise you, his mission ending a week early he got home as soon as he could. He thought of maybe taking you to Vermont for the weekend, he had never been but Nat told him it’d be a nice little getaway and that you’d love it.

His wide smile slowly fade away as he looked at the state of his door - the latch broken. Forced entry. Somebody broke his door in. He pushed the door wide open and made his way in.

He knew what was to come next but he willed that thought away. Maybe you kicked it in yourself, maybe you forgot your keys. He kept telling himself that because he was terrified of thinking the alternative.

He stepped in as soon as he was able to shake himself out of his haze. Looking at the state of his, and your, apartment. A broken vase, and the coffee table smashed in.

Crouching down to take a closer look he saw some blood on the ceramic. Whoever did this to your home, better hope that it’s wasn’t yours.

He got up, directing his simmering rage towards his new mission. He didn’t panic, not yet, he couldn’t give himself that kind of luxury. His mind coming up with ten different to find you and make the bastards who did this pay.

NOBody can hurt the people he loves, especially his girl, and get away with it.

***

Your eyes fluttered open before scrunching shut to adjust to the harsh fluorescent light. You blinked, looking around you while squinting.

Some sort of empty grey room... a window to the side but it was dark outside. You dress sticking to your skin as your whole body was covered in a sheen of sweat.

Three men in a corner, one for them shouting at the others in a foreign language.

You felt a yip of pain radiating in your arms and then realised they were tied up behind you - strapped to a creaky chair.

You tried to shake free of them, by wiggling your wrists but then winced at the burn it caused, capturing the attention of your kidnappers.

One of them smiled at you, walking towards you.

“Finally awake, are we?” he asked in an abnormally chirpy way. “You were out for quiet some time. Did you sleep well?”

He squatted before you, you could see his face, his cold grey eyes betraying the warm smile that graced his lips. Many white scars littered over his jaw...

And then you remembered.

How you rushed home when you felt someone was following you. Locking the door, you tried to call Steve but couldn’t get through to him.

And then your stalker broke into your home. You tried to smash his head in with a vase but couldn’t really do any real damage. Everything was hazy after that. Maybe he drugged you - you couldn’t recall.

You exhaled shakily when you realised he was watching you both from the corner. You could never forget his dark hoodie and hair. Or fresh cut on his forehead. You had never so much as hurt a fly or even slapped anyone. How you managed to smash his head in you’ll never know.

You looked at the man before you again when you heard him calling out your name, his smile haltered for a moment as he looked back to your stalker.

“I’m sorry about that, he’s a rookie. He’ll be reprimanded soon enough. This wasn’t exactly our plan but we’ve decided to improvise.”

You tried to speak but with your throat and mouth dry and your mind in shock the words wouldn’t come out.

“Oh, that’s alright, don’t struggle. We don’t want anything to do with you, you’re just a normal plain Jane going about your life, aren’t you?”

You could only give him a weak nod, still trying your best to shake yourself free of your bounds without him noticing.

“That’s right. You haven’t done anything wrong, you don’t deserve to have anything bad happen to you, do you?”

You nodded again. Your breath hitched when he got closer to you, in your face, his hands planted on your bare thighs with your skirt pooled just below your hips.

“But we don’t always get what we deserve. You’re close to the Captain, that’s right Michael’s told me all about how taken he is with you. I mean... I never would’ve imagined Captain America would pick someone like you but to each their own,” he cupped your cheek, the cracks in his palm harsh against your soft skin.

“What do you want?” you asked, not looking away from him.

“I want justice. For things to be in the right order. You’ll have to suffer for it, but know that it’s for a good cause.”

“You’re wrong,” you shook your head, “he’ll come for me.”

“We’re counting on that,” he snickered.

You’re not sure what came over you, all you knew was that you wanted his disgusting hands off of you, “He’ll come for me, and then you’ll regret ever touching me.”

“Uh, I don’t know about this,” you pulled on a thread from your skirt with your right hand, your other hand in Steve’s as he held onto your waist, pulling you into his side. “It’ll be inside me?” you shuddered.

“Yes, but,” Bruce scratched his head, he was adorable like that. You never would’ve imagined him to be the hulk, a 'rage monster’. “it’s not as bad as you think. You won’t even feel it. All shield agents and Avengers have one. Except Thor, because that wouldn’t be of any use. The radius is only on earths surface. You would’ve thought that would be enough,” he chuckled.

You pressed your lips in a thin line, looking at the chip, smaller than an acrylic nail, watching Bruce load it up.

“I know it’s not ideal, doll. But I’ll feel much better knowing I can find you, in case something goes wrong.” He kissed your temple, as you braced yourself.

“Will it hurt?” you gulped as Bruce lined the shooter or gun, by the looks of it, to your forearm.

“Just a little. You’ll barely feel it.” He gave you a sympathetic smile.

“Look at me, pup,” Steve gripped your chin, moving your head till you looked into his blue eyes, he pressed his lips to yours, massaging your tongue with his to distract you.

“Mm,” you winced and moaned into his mouth when you felt the piercing pain. It was like getting a flu shot but you had never having been a huge fan of needles either.

He released his hold on you as Bruce worked on cleaning your the blood seeping through your pierced skin. “You did good.” Steve said.

“Do I get a sucker?” You asked Bruce and he chuckled - as if you were joking, you do not joke about candy, “No I really want one.”

“Let’s keep this between us.” Steve told you both.

“Of course,” Bruce nodded, “I can keep tracker dormant till we need it but are you sure?”

“I’m not sure who I can trust.” But he knew he could trust his teammates.

You sniffled, keeping your tears at bay because really something so little shouldn’t make you cry, rubbing your hand over your wounded bicep as Bruce handed you some gummy bears.

“They’re Tony’s. He leaves snacks everywhere, it’s annoying.”

“Thank you.” You blinked up at him and offered some to Steve.

You never thought you’d need it. Until now, you were sure your friends or your mother would notice that you’ve been gone and Steve will find out and track you down. You knew he would. He had to.

He frowned, his nails digging into your cheekbones, pluckering your lips, “Where’s all that confidence coming from?” he quirked a curious brow up, “He’ll walk right in and pay for everything he’s done,” he snorted.

“You’re way underprepared to take someone like him on,” shut up, shut up, shut up, why the fuck are you egging him on? “He’s strong, he’s a survivor.” Even without the serum, he survived an abusive household, being bullied, being sick, and you knew how protective he could be. To the point where it was downright irritating.

“We’ve got all the time in the world to prepare, you should be worrying about yourself,” he spat.

You had always been bold, even in the most inappropriate of situations. Like when you lectured a boy for over an hour on respecting boundaries for throwing spitballs at you, in kindergarten. Steve even said that he fell for that ‘spunk' in you.

‘Well-behaved women rarely make history’ your mother had told you.

And really, you liked that about yourself as well. You liked that you found a man that would encourage that side of you instead of calling you ‘difficult’ or ‘bossy’.

However, you immediately regretted everything you had said. Not because it was untrue, but because your captor took out a sharp pocket knife, a dark glint in his eyes.

“We only need you alive,” he said as you gulped, “I suppose, it wouldn’t matter if you’re missing a finger or two.”

You frantically shook your head, choking on a sob. “No,” you pleaded, “you’ll... he will find me and you will - ”

“Go to prison at best. It’s a risk we’re all willing to take,” he put the blunt end of the knife against your cheek, “We have to do something to kill the time.”

You couldn’t breath, your heart hammering in your chest, what if he doesn’t come for you? You won’t be able to do anything about it. It wasn’t like you could protect yourself, at least in this situation, all you could do was wait for him.

You shut your eyes, and braced yourself for the pain. Except... it never came, you simply heard someone fall down, some sort of clattering sound.

Upon opening your eyes you saw one of his friends face down before your in the corner, the other guy, your lovely stalker, drawing out his gun, looking at the only window to your left. You swore you a saw a glimpse of a flying disk knocking your stalker out.

The man before you cursed under his breath, “Get. Up. Come on!” he ordered.

“Yeah, if I could do that I probably would’ve,” you snarked, still trying to get your aching wrists free.

You barely even registered - who could only be your Captain - sneaking up behind him, snapping his neck with his hands in a matter of seconds. He collapsed on the ground and you could finally see Steve.

His clenched jaw and cold eyes softened up on seeing you, you couldn’t help but let out a sob as you realised you were going to be free.

“You’re okay, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he soothed you, kissing your forehead before swiftly free your hands.

You stood up on wobbly legs, holding onto his arms for support, “Steve,” you breathed out, “you came for me.”

“Of course I did,” he sighed, gently pushing your face against his chest as he hugged you close to him. “As if I’d ever abandon you,” he smoothed a hand over your back and decided to not dwell on your comment. This wasn’t about him, you were in shock.

“I was so scared,” you sniffled, “he said, he - ” you couldn’t even finish your sentence as you broke down in a fit of sobs and hiccups.

“You’re safe now,” he promised.

“You - did you kill him?” you pushed away from him to look up at his face so you could take him in.

You had never seen him in his uniform. Only ever seeing him on the news but he had his cowl on and a suit that was much more on brand for ‘Captain America’ than the darker one he had on now. It made him look bigger - if that was even possible. Bigger than the shield now strapped to his back.

His usually clean shaven face had the faintest shadow to it while his hair was slicked back. He looked beautiful, so soft and innocent, definitely not someone who’s capable of hurting anyone.

“He hurt you,” he replied, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing your bruised wrists, “and so many others, he got what was coming to him.”

“You knew him?”

“Yes. He got away the last time we tried to catch him - but we don’t have to talk about that right now. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

You shook your head, “No, I’m just thirsty and I really want to lay down,” you murmured, resting your head on the star in the middle of his chest.

He pressed a hand to his ear, letting his team know that he had found you. You vaguely saw agents clad in black gear storm the room.

“We did a sweep of the place. No one else is here,” Natasha said. “How you doing?” and then frowned when you didn’t respond.

“She’s tired. It’s okay, love,” he kissed your temple, snaking a hand under your knees and picking you up with ease.

You weakly nodded, wrapping your hands around his neck, glad to be babied by him because you didn’t have the strength to stand.

“They didn’t give you anything to eat?” Nat scoffed as you shook your head.

“How long have I been here?” you looked at Steve, struggling to stay awake.

“A day and a half. We’ll get you fixed up,” he swore, carrying you towards the quinget.

“Where are we?” you nuzzled your nose against the rough kevlar of his suit.

“Bermuda,” he said.

“Oo, I’ve always wanted to come here... just maybe not like this,” you chuckled but Steve didn’t find it all that amusing. You cupped his cheek in your palm, hoping to maybe calm him down a bit before falling asleep.

***

You vaguely heard a familiar voice calling out your name, you’d recognise it anywhere, it was one of your favorites, one you’d known your entire life.

“Mom?” you muttered, opening your eyes and looking around the room to look for her. You smiled when you saw her sitting on a chair just beside your bed, the faint, annoying beeping told you that you were probably in a hospital.

“Hey there, honey,” she smiled back at you, her eyes misty as she pressed her lips to your cheek. “Do you have any idea how much you scared me?”

“I’m sorry,” you tried to sit up as she fluffed your pillow up to support you. “I was... um... kidnapped.” Saying it out loud made it feel so ridiculous. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought.

“Yes, Steve filled us in on everything. So, Captain America, huh?” she raised her brows.

“Yeah,” you chuckled nervously. Doing a once over to your large, mostly white room to look for him. He wouldn’t just up and leave you, would he?

“How long has it been going on?” she asked.

“Um, three or four months?” you winced when you realised just how much trouble you were in.

“And, you live with him. Linda filled us in on everything. You’re quitting your job too now.”

“It’s - it’s not as bad as it sounds...”

“Never mind that, you need to rest. Then you won’t have to worry about all this. I’m taking you home with me. And you’re never coming back here again.”

“What? No! I still have over two years of school left.”

“You can do it online! You can find just as a good a job in Queens.”

“No! I’m not coming,” you whined.

“Well, you’re not living with a man you barely know either.”

You were interrupted by a knock on the door. A doctor entering, apologising for disturbing you and Steve right behind her. He still hadn’t changed out of his suit.

He stood at the end of your bed, squeezing your foot to let you know he was there for you as your mother glared daggers at him.

“Looks like you’re doing good. Blood sugars back to normal as well...” the doctor said, “You’re free to go home.”

“Really?” you smiled. So done with everything. Sleeping in your own bed sounded like heaven.

“Yes, let us know if you need anything.” She looked over your chart again and then left.

“Good then, you can come home now.”

“No! I’m going to my apartment in Manhattan, the one I share with Steve.” You rolled your eyes. Pleading Steve to back you up with your eyes.

He cleared his throat, “Um, ma'am, you can come stay with us, if you like.”

He held your mothers gaze, to let her know that he was serious and earnest.

He knew he wasn’t perfect by any means. He had a million flaws and cuts that ran deeper than anybody would ever know but he always thought, or maybe arrogantly assumed, that if nothing else he was someone ‘you take home to mama’ as Clint had once put it. He thought that your parents, like most, would like him. That he’d easily get their blessing to be with their daughter. He was known to be America’s golden boy after all.

But your mother had ripped him a new one as soon as she saw him. Accusing him of abusing his power to woo you. That you were here because of him. That he’s not worthy of you.

And all he could do was stand there and take it because everything she had said was the truth. He didn’t deserve you, you were captured and possibly traumatised because of him.

At the same time, he couldn’t just let you go. Not till he gets to the bottom of who had hurt you and makes sure that you’re safe from now on.

“No, thank you.” She scoffed, looking back at you and shaking her head. “What are you doing with your life?”

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes but being with Steve definitely isn’t one,” you looked over to him, he looked just as tired as you, “I just want to go home. My home with Steve.”

“Fine, I’ve always let you make your own decisions.” she sighed, finally giving in.

“And I’ve never disappointed you.”

“That’s debatable,” she snorted, “I’ll come check on you tomorrow then. Maybe send me your address. You know? Something you should’ve done months ago.” She returned to glaring at Steve.

“I’ve only been living with him for a month!” you tried to defend yourself.

***

“I can take off my own clothes, Stevie,” you giggled, him kneeling before you to help you out of the sweets the med bay gave you. Your dress was dirty and ragged now. “I really liked that dress though. I don’t have many like it. You think we can get it back?”

“Maybe, I’ll see what I can do, doll,” he kissed your bare thigh before rolling your panties down your legs.

“You’re kinda dirty too,” you remarked, sniffing him. He didn’t smell bad, as if Steve would ever smell bad to you. Just a bit of gunpowder, like that of firecrackers, a bit pungent instead of his normal piney and woodsy scent.

“Thank you,” he deadpanned before cracking a smile, “I was just excited to see you. Or I would’ve showered before coming home and then I didn’t get a chance to.”

He worked on unbuttoning your shirt He insisted on you getting a button up instead of a t-shirt considering how sore your arms were from being toed up for so long. Tied up... like an animal.

“Hey,” you whispered softly, caressing his cheek, “come back to me.”

“Sorry, I’m just... I don’t know,” he shook his head. He couldn’t let you know the guilt and despair he felt, you’d end up comforting him instead of the other way around. “It’s just been a long day.”

“Yeah. Still can’t believe any of this was real.” Running your hands up and down his suit, the feel of the material almost soothing to touch. “You wanna shower with me?”

“Don’t know, doll. That showers pretty small.”

He did have a pretty generous salary but opted to live in a more modest apartment, he never took more than he needed anyway, with a small shower. Not too small, but definitely not big enough for you both.

“We’ll make do, come on. I’ll make you squeaky clean.”

He took over ten minutes to get rid of the suit. You watched intently as he removed more latches than you could count.

“Is it bulletproof?” you wanted to know.

“Yes. But probably not as good as a vest. I’ve never been shot so I wouldn’t know.” He answered, taking off his undershirt.

“It’s funny because I always thought y’all were naked under there,” you chuckled, and then your jaw dropped as he took off his briefs.

You had never seen his cock while it was soft before. He was always more than excited when you got to him. It was amazing how pretty he looked either way.

“You and so many other people,” he almost shuddered at the thought of having been asked the same question so many times.

After making sure the water was hot enough, you both stood under it.

You took some of the lavender wash you had bought from lush, squeezing it on your sponge. Steve, bless him, was amazing at so many things. Shopping - it seemed was not one of them. All he had in his bathroom was a bar of soap, one toothbrush and a vintage straight razor.

Which just won’t do for you, so you took it upon yourself to stock the whole place up with your favorite stuff. The lavender being Steve’s favorite, you remembered how flustered you got when he told you that you smelled good. And then tried to explain that you always smell good while turning redder than a tomato.

You did his front, asking him to bent his neck a bit so you could wash his hair because he was almost a foot taller than you. You were about to do his legs, you’d take any excuse to feel up his thick thighs but he told you he’d do the rest himself.

Taking the sponge from you, he ran it under some water, working on cleaning you thoroughly. Under your arms, your breasts, your stomach, between your legs and then your legs.

You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen - he knew that since the moment he had met you. But something about washing you up like that felt so intimate even though there was nothing erotic about it.

After washing you thoroughly he wrapped you up in a towel, “My cute lil' burrito,” he booped your nose.

You puffed your cheeks out, you weren’t sure if you liked that nickname. Observing just how gentle he was with you, helping you into a cotton nightie, as opposed to drying himself off hastily and carelessly before pulling some sweats and briefs on.

“Don’t wear a shirt,” you pleaded, he looked amazing shirtless, but that wasn’t the only reason, you really liked feeling his skin on hours, pressing kissing on his perfect, smooth, golden skin, ”pretty please.” Right now, he’d give you anything you wanted and you intended on milking that as much as you can.

“Alright, doll,” he replied, pulling you up in his arms again as if you were his bride, as you giggled so sweetly, “now, what would you like to eat? No take out, it has to be healthy. And remember my culinary skills are limited,” he said, carrying you to the living room and putting you on the couch as he started working in the kitchen.

“Stevie, I’m not hungry. Well, that’s not true, I’d like some ice cream,” fluttering your lashes at him, “Mint chocolate chip? I’m pretty sure we have some.”

“Of course, puppy,” you smiled, at the prospect of getting a sweet treat and the nickname, “as soon as you eat something.” He added and you huffed in annoyance.

He whipped up a sandwich for you, two for him because he was starving, some peach iced tea so you wouldn’t eat his ear off while complaining.

You only picked at your food, giving more than half of it to him. You truly didn’t feel like eating, instead craving some cuddles with him.

You tried striking up a conversation with him multiple times. Not because you didn’t like silence. You did when it came to him, you could go hours without talking and it would feel so serene and perfect. You never had to talk just for the sake of it when you were with him.

But you had come to read Steve pretty well. He seemed distant and closed off. The air around you both thick with tension. You tried to ease it while telling him about how brave you were while quitting and didn’t cry at all, how Tony dropped by and was apparently stalking you - which was a bad idea because it seemed to make him angry, clench his jaw tight, his brows furrowed as he placed your plates in the sink.

Unsure if you had done something wrong or were mean to Tony, who was technically his boss, you twiddled with your fingers, “Um... I - I’m sorry,” you stuttered, trying to hold back tears. Spending the night at your mom’s house sounded like the better choice now.

“Hm?” he looked back at you, he could do the dishes tomorrow, “what for?”

“I shouldn’t have been snarky with Tony. I know he’s your boss and all that but he’s kinda cocky... And I got really mad when I found out he did like a ‘background check' on me. I mean I get why he would but still. I can apologize to him.”

“No no,” he shook his head, kneeling before you, taking your hands in his, “you misunderstood, love. I’m not mad at you, I could never REALLY be mad at you. It’s Tony I’m angry with, he went behind my back, ambushed you at work.”

“To be fair, you did the same when you asked me out,” you snickered as a blush crept up his neck.

“Right.” He finally cracked a genuine smile placing feather light kisses on your knuckles and the to the bandages on your hands.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” you asked, running your hands through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly with your nails.

“It’s probably better if we don’t talk about it,” he said, laying his head on your lap. Your slight scratching massaging his never-resting head.

“I think we should. My mom said I don’t know you. And to some extent, she is right. I don’t. Maybe I’m just imagining things but... sometimes it feels like you’re holding back.”

He gathered enough courage to look up at you, your almond shaped eyes looking down at his and he knew that he could talk to you about anything. He did. But there will always be that little voice that tells him that he shouldn’t. He would only trouble you.

“Don’t you pride yourself on being honest?” you caressed his scratchy cheek.

He snorted. He really was dense enough to think he was the perfect son-in-law package.

“I just, the way you looked at me, when I killed that man, I’m afraid that you’re scared of me now. That’s the last thing I want. It’s my worst nightmare really.” He leant into your touch.

“Steve, that wasn’t because I’m scare of you. It was because I’m fond of you. You were so strong and brave and you saved me. I liked being the damsel in distress more than I thought,” He chuckled at that, his doubts a bit relieved, “that’s... not all though.” You murmured.

“What is it?” he wanted to know.

“You, um, the fact that you would do that for me... it’s just. I never thought anyone would love me that much.”

“I only regret doing it in front of you. I’m sorry you had to see that or go through any of that.”

“I’m not a child, Steve,” you rolled your eyes.

“Of course not, but you’re you. You’re pure and an angel. I - I’m tainted - tainted by blood, tainted by war - ”

“Steve, that’s not true. You’re not, you’re the pure-est person I know. War and - that doesn’t define you.”

“You wouldn’t feel that way if you knew about all the things I have done, sweetheart.” The sweet nickname he had for you, which now he used in a patronising tone, “I let my best friend die. And I couldn’t do anything about it.”

“What’re you talking about?” you frowned. You heard about Bucky from him and your history textbooks but you don’t remember reading anything like that.

“It’s... something I’m not ready to get into.” He put his forehead on your knee. He knew you loved him but there was only so much baggage you would be willing to accept.

“Okay. You can take your time and tell me if and when you’re ready, baby.” You went back to idly playing with his, “But I need you to know that I love you. Nothing you could ever say will change that. To think that... for a second I thought that you wouldn’t come for me.”

He snapped his head back up, “What?”

“I thought, that you’d be busy with your mission. You wouldn’t even find out I was missing or... you just wouldn’t care enough to come yourself. I mean, I knew you would come, obviously. But you have other more important work...”

“No,” he shook his head, “How could you ever think anything's more important to me than you and your life?”

“Yeah, I was being stupid.”

“You can be a bit silly sometimes, doll.” He nuzzled your tummy, making you giggle. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again. I was so scared I’d never see you again,” he confessed against your nightgown.

“That’d be a bit hard to do. Keeping an eye on me like that. But if it means I get to spend more time with you then I’m down.”

You convinced Steve to let you have some ice cream. He only let you have half a scope, telling you that you’d have trouble sleeping otherwise.

“I’ve been sleeping for most of the last two days.” You tried to argue but it was hard to change his mind once he had it set on something.

You both brushed your teeth together and he stared at you as you went about your night-time skincare routine.

Cleanse, serum, moisturize, sleep mask.

All he did was wash his face and he still looked fucking perfect.

He stayed true to his word, sticking by your side to the point where you had to kick him outside to have some privacy to pee in peace. He was right there waiting for you when you opened the door.

Finally, you were in your cosy bed. Light’s off and cuddled tight with your boyfriend. Your stuffed unicorn and your Captain America plushie to your other side.

With your legs tangled together, you rubbed your feet up and down his legs. Which were unfortunately covered with his sweats.

“Steve,” you whined.

“Yes?”

“Take off these damn pants. They’re hurting my skin. So friggin' prickly.”

“Sorry, doll. I know how precious your skin is.” He sounded like he was mocking you but he followed, pushing his pants away.

“Good?” he asked holding you close to him again.

“Mm-hm,” you hummed against his naked chest. “Let’s sleep like this everyday, please.”

“Sure.” He replied. He liked being a ‘human furnace' for you.

He wasn’t going to fall asleep. Not after everything that happened. He hadn’t slept well in the past week but he was afraid that if he’d shut his eyes for a single moment and you’d be gone. This time, he wouldn’t be lucky enough to find you.

He hadn’t been to crunch or even prayed in a while. Losing his faith a long time ago after all the terrible things he had seen. But he had prayed when he came back found his home to be wreck. He prayed that you’d come back to him because there were some things he just could not control. Nobody could.

After a while he lowly whispered your name. “Are you awake?” he asked.

It was silly but he missed you. Even though you were laying right next to him in his arms - the safest place you could be.

“Yeah. I can’t sleep. Even though I’m so tired.” You yawned. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure?” You snorted. “You’re not a good liar, Steven.”

“Can I ask you something? And you can say no if you want I won’t mind.”

“Sure, shoot.”

“Can I, um, have you? I just need to feel you, sweetheart. After everything – I need to know you’re really here.” he was cut off by your lips crashing on his.

You winced when your teeth clamped together but he soothed your upper lip by nipping at it with his tongue.

“Steve,” you panted as he broke awake, shifting under the sheets and pushing the helm of your gown up.

He placed quick open mouthed kisses all over your thighs, over your stretch marks, spreading your thighs further to accommodate his broad shoulders, he made sure to check in with you again.

All you did was push his head towards your heat, begging him to eat your pussy - as if he needed to be told twice.

Swirling and spreading your glistening juices of arousal around your weeping lips, he dove in for his prize. Drawing patterns on your bundle of nerves before sucking at it harshly, he plunged his tongue inside. Lacing his fingers with yours and pinning your hands down by your hips.

You kept desperately pushing your hips up, wanting more. Arching your back up and holding onto his hands tightly as he lightly grazed his teeth over your clit.

“Say my name, sweetheart,” he demanded against your heat, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure up your spine.

Your orgasm washing over you in waves, electrifying every nerve in your body as you clamped your legs around his head, holding onto him.

He kept lapping you up through it, taking everything you’d give him.

He loved worshipping you - spending as much time as he could between your legs - because you were his goddess but right now, he just needed to feel you.

He climbed up the bed, hovering over you, he pushed two thick fingers inside you mouth till the second knuckle.

“Get them nice and wet, doll.” He instructed.

You moaned around him, making loud suckling noises, “Yesh, Captain,” it came out muffled, what with your mouth full.

“Captain?” he smirked. You had only ever called him that as a joke, he never knew being called that in a salacious way could stroke a fire inside him. Making him them painfully hard in the confines of his tight briefs. He pulled his fingers out of you, pushing his hand down till it was between your legs. Nudging your entrance with them.

“Sorry, it slipped out.” You were too unabashed to feel guilty. 

He scoffed, “Say it again.” 

Pushing his fingers inside you. Pumping them at a fast pace before you even had a second to think. It was desperate and fast so unlike how it is usually between you both. He needed to be inside you but your needs would always come before his. 

“Captain,” you mewled, chewing on your lower lip and holding onto his face. You couldn’t see him clearly in the dark but you still need to look at him. “I told them my Captain would come for me. And you did...” he swallowed your screams with his mouth as you clenched around his fingers. 

“That’s right,” he groaned, sucking your slick off of his fingers, “I’ll always protect you. I’ll do anything for you.” 

Shaky fingers working on taking his cock out of the hard confines of his uncomfortable underwear. He didn’t waste a single second before sinking inside you, as deep as he could. He moaned into your neck, “So fucking tight, doll. Like you were made for me,” he bit your neck. 

Drawing his hips back he thrusted inside you, brushing against your g-spot, making you keen. 

He stopped immediately, propping himself up on his elbows he looked down at your hooded eyes. “You alright, sweetheart?”

You nodded, “Yes, it’s just so good,” as if to prove it you clenched around his length, to make him feel all of you just as he was doing to you. 

He groaned at that, his balls already tightening, aching for release, “What’s the safe word?” 

“Mm... buttercream.”

“That’s right, good girl,” he cooed as you whimpered at his praise as he withdrew his hips again, loving you in a slow soft way. 

Pushing your gown up till it was above your breasts - he didn’t really have the patience to properly take it off. He sucked a spot just above your breast, so you’d remember his love every time you looked at it. Your nipples pebbled and goose bumps painted your skin, with your cunt tight around him he knew you were close. 

Wrapping his mouth around one bud, He pulled and pinched at the other. He stopped his ministrations, he needed to look at you as you climaxed. To know that you needed him at least half as much as he needed you. 

Your face scrunched up as you met your bliss, your nails drawing blood from shoulders - not that he cared in the slightest. 

His hips retracting and thrusting as he lost all sense of rhythm and finesse chasing his end as you laid boneless beneath him. He kept fucking into you, filling you to the brim. 

He heaved above you, making sure not to collapse on top of you. Reluctantly he pulled himself out of you. 

Pulling you close to him, his lips pressed up against the crown of your head, he whispered sweet nothings to you. “My brave girl.” He kissed the tip of your nose. “You’re so strong, sweetheart.”

“Stronger than the hulk?”

“Yes, definitely,” he replied, tracing the bandages wrapped around your wrists. “Now try to get some sleep.”

“Oh, I’ll sleep alright. Thanks to you.” You giggled. 

***

tags will be in the reblog.

this was my longest fic!i know it wasnt the best conclusion to something i drew outover 4 chapters but its the best i could do. sorry for weird format tumblrs mad i had too much fun lol. comments and reblogs are really appreciated!!

[vermillionflames]

Fuegoleon x Female Y/N

Word Count: 2,020

Laundry Day

Summary: Captain Fuegoleon had a laundry room added to the Crimson Lion base to teach it's knights about chores and responsibilities. Y/N has never seen anyone use it, until one night her captain joins her for a wash.

Warnings: Semi / Public Sex, Fuegoleon being how he is, Talk of ballsacks, Cum, Adulthood Responsibilities

Having nice clothes was an unspoken rule of the Crimson Lions. No one left their rooms without looking their best, everyone even had silk robes for late night snack adventures around the base. However, those who lived at the base lacked certain resources they were accustomed to at home, maids, servants, and mamas to do their laundry. Could they have hired a few to help the hopeless royals and noble knights? Sure, but that wouldn’t bare them a lesson, so good ol’ Captain Fuegoleon had instead created a room full of ‘machines’ that would ‘wash their clothes.’ He had a very gaudy sign made for the door that had “laundry room” illustrated with too many frills, but what can we expect from a team that has Kings in their name. Nonetheless, most members went home often and took their washings with them. They’ll train day and night to put their life on the line for the kingdom, but god forbid they wash their own underwear, including the man who made the room. No one had ever seen him walking around the castle with a laundry basket on his hip.

But there were perks to this.

Y/N had the laundry room all to herself. She waited until late at night to spare herself the gossip of doing her own chores, but once everyone was settled into their dorms she made a beeline for the washers, adorning her robe so she could walk around if she felt like it and not get a “what are you doing up so late?” interrogation. Obviously no one else was in the room so she could use up as many machines as she wanted, taking time to sort out her delicate underwear and stained training clothes. A wicked idea crossed her mind. Y/N removed her robe and set it to the side, took over her silk pajama set and threw it into the delicate cycle, before putting her robe back on. Very little hid her from the world, but as far as she was concerned the “world” was asleep and wouldn’t dare to enter this room.

If she were a lady, which she was, she would just sit in and wait for the cycles to finish, but as the washers went through their cycles they made vibrations that just felt… good against her body. She leaned against it letting the vibrations help relax her sore arms and legs.

“Maybe if I lay down on all of them I’ll be able to get my whole body at the same time!”

Y/N turned her back to the machine, placing her palms on top in order to hoist herself up on top, but as she sat down she felt a different kind of relaxing vibration.

“I shouldn’t indulge in this behavior…. But no one is around to witness it…”

Y/N closed her eyes and allowed her body to relax while certain feelings went through her core. Her robe became looser as the cycle went on. Her eyes were closed and head was rolled back, but as she opened her mouth to let out a moan the door to the laundry room ripped open. Fast and quiet but it was enough for her to notice. Jerking her head up she saw her captain standing in the doorway, with a woven basket full of clothes in his arm.

She had a millisecond to cover herself from him.

“Cap-Captain! What are you doing here,” Y/N slammed her legs together while trying to close her robe.

He arched a brow at her, “Laundry, as one does in the laundry room… Why are you sitting on the machine?”

“I just… like the way it feels…” Idiot. Why would you say that?

Fuegoleon gave her the side eye while loading his own washer and added the soap like he’d been doing it for years. So pretty boy does his own laundry? Interesting. Y/N was still sitting on top of the washer, too scared of giving a free show if she moved.

“Are you going to sit on it until it’s done?”

“You know, it’s good for my sore muscles. Which I have because I’ve been training so hard!”

“Oh… well maybe I should try it too.”

Why was Captain Fuegoleon so… like this?

“Okay,” Y/N squeaked out and watched in horror as her captain climbed on top of the washing machine next to her, curiosity and excitement all over his face.

“I’m not sure I understand,” his eyes crossed in confusion as the vibes clearly did nothing for his ass and thighs.

So his balls aren’t big enough to touch the surface he sits on…

“Excuse me?”

Y/N’s face became very red, had she said that out loud?!

“You should try laying down on it!” She screeched out, motioning for him to use her lap as a pillow.

Fuegoleon’s eyes crossed, “You are absolutely right, Y/N! Thank you,” he moved his legs on top of the machine, resting his head on her thigh, which gave him a perfect very of her under breast.

“H-how’s that, Captain?”

“I can feel my muscles being stimulated! This is an amazing discovery, Y/N!”

“Thank you?”

“Oh! You should join me, come lay down next to me.”

Y/N looked down and the limited space on top of the machines.

“I’m not sure we will both fit, Captain.”

Fuegoleon followed her eyes, thinking.

“How about you lay on top of me and I rub your muscles, then we switch sides when your clothes are put in the dryer.”

Y/N felt something deep in her melt at the idea of getting a massage from her captain.

“O-okay.”

Fuegoleon lifted his head to give her room to remove herself. She stood on the ground, placed her hands on either side of his head and lifted herself on top of him. Hovering over him she remembered that she was naked under her robe, which was thin and now hanging off her body. She gulped and prayed he didn’t notice as she laid her body on top of his.

Without a word more, his hands went to her shoulders rubbing downwards in circular motions. It took everything in Y/N’s power to not moan whenever he stimulated a particularly sore part. It didn’t help that her hips were rested right above his and she could feel the vibrations through him.

The ringing of the finished cycle was her only salvation. Fuegoleon’s face looked funny as she lifted herself up to move her clothes to the dryer. She gave him a questioning look before a draft alerted her what was wrong. Her robe had moved open, stopping at her hard nipples. She flew her hands up to shut the fabric once more before jumping off of him.

“I am so sorry Captain,” she ripped open the washer door, “I think I would like to go to my room while my clothes dry,” Y/N was throwing her wet training clothes into the washer.

“Is there any particular reason why, Y/N,” Fuegoleon asked.

“No…” she turned around to find he had opened her other washer to help her, but had pulled out one tiny, lace thong. His eyes narrowed as he observed how it stretched between his two pointer fingers.

Y/N wanted to die right then and there.

“I wasn’t aware you were seeing someone,” was all he said as she chucked the underwear back into the machine and grabbed its contents completely.

“Wh-why would you say that,” she squeaked, taking the load from him and turning around to throw them in another dryer.

“You don’t wear those for training, do you,” his voice tickled her ear. Y/N’s eyes rolled from the sensation of its warmth.

“S-sometimes I do,” she slammed the door shut and messed with the settings

“Why,” he pushed her flush against the dryers, “Hoping someone might see them?”

“Captain…”

Fuegoleon removed himself from Y/N.

“I apologize, Y/N. It seems I misread you. Forgive me.” He sat in a chair on the opposite side of the room.

Y/N had 5 seconds to either go to her room or make a once in a lifetime decision. And she was brash so…

After hitting start on the dryer she slowly walked to her captain.

“I wear them hoping you will invite me to your dorm afterwards for a shared bath.”

Fuegoleon looked up from his lap. Y/N’s hands were on the tie of her robe. As he opened his mouth to speak she pulled on it and let it slide down her shoulders. Leaving herself completely bare to him.

His eyes became dark with hunger.

“Thank god,” he stood up and started throwing off his clothes, “I thought I had just made an ass of myself.”

Y/N had seen his naked chest before while training, but it was different now. She let her eyes move downward, she stopped to take in his throbbing cock. She gaped at its size. It would never fit in her mouth.

“Tell me, Y/N, are my balls still not big enough?”

A blush crept across her face, “I didn’t mean for you to hear that.”

“Then make it up to me.”

Y/N walked forward, stopped when their chest touched before dropping to her knees.

The pair maintained eye contact as Y/N reached out her tongue, giving his member a long lick. Fuegoleon nodded in approval. Y/N wrapped her mouth around the head, lightly sucking as she made her way down his shaft.

Fuegoleon growled in pleasure as Y/N bobbed her head. His cock was so long she could only get half of it in her mouth, gagging as she tried to fit in more. Fuegoleon pushed back her shoulders and lifted her up.

“I’d rather taste you than have you taste me, darling,” then laid her down on his washers which were still vibrating.

Fuegoleon put his hands on Y/N’s inner thighs, lightly massaging before spreading them open. His face was at level with her wet opening.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he purred before taking a long lick over her bundle of nerves. “You’re so sweet,” he sucked, hard.

Y/N reached for Fuegoleon’s hair, pulling it as she moaned on his tongue. He continued to take laps at her. Her pussy dripped down her curves and onto the washer.

“I want you,” Y/N whimpered.

Fuegoleon growled, continuing his feast.

“Please,” she shrieked as an orgasm ripped through her body.

“There we go,” he murmured, unbending his back.

Their eyes met, “Please,” Y/N repeated.

Fuegoleon pulled Y/N to the edge of the washer, “There is nothing that would make me happier.”

He lined his cock up with her vagina, taking his time sinking inside of her. Y/N gasped as his member hit her innermost wall.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he leaned down to suck on her nipple, “You feel so good.” Fuegoleon slowly pulled out, almost completely, before ramming himself back inside. He did it again and again. Y/N was a wet, mewling mess beneath him.

“Fuegoleon,” she cried as his cock hit her most sensitive spot.

“That’s what I was looking for, do you like that, Y/N?”

He taunted her, hitting the spot repeatedly. All Y/N could do was moan and scream.

“Good girl,” he latched his mouth to hers, swallowing her cries of pleasure.

She tightened around him, signalling she was close. He twitched in response.

“Together,” he growled, “We come together.” Y/N nodded.

A final thrust was their undoing, Y/N spasmed around him, shaking with the washer. Fuegoleon spilled inside her, so deep and hot. He stayed sheathed inside her while he caught his breath, leaning his head on her shoulder.

“That was…”

“Amazing,” Y/N answered. He gave her a smile.

The beep of his washer was their signal to get put together.

“I’m hoping you’ll join me in my room to fold our clothes once we’re done, Y/N.”

And she was more than inclined to agree.

[obeymeluv]

You Steal the Boys’ Clothes

Something I’ve been thinking of for a while.

Lucifer

It was rare the eldest was without his cape, as everything seemed to be a formal event and he must be dressed to impress. Being dressed to impress, however, means being clean so he gets it cleaned from time to time

Lucifer is a very organized, practical man. Constantly towing the line of obsessive for the sake of orderliness.

He knows where his cape should be, and that it’s not there

With a demon’s-only screech that warns Mammon to stretch his calves and run, Lucifer hunts down the three most likely suspects to interrogate them (Mammon, Satan, and Belphegor).

He tries to get a two-for-one by dragging Mammon into the study where Satan sits smugly with a book (because he knows he didn’t do it but MAN is he enjoying this!)

Imagine surprising not one, but THREE demons when you come shuffling down the hall with a Lucifer’s cape wrapped around you like a blanket.

It whispers and it drags and it absolutely DROWNS you.

Very charming. Ethereal, almost like some sort of wedding wear

Lucifer would’ve never imagined you’d be the culprit, and now his poor brain is trying to save and process the idea of you looking so sleepy-happy in his clothes

And the ex-angel falls all over again.

He catches the little cheek nuzzle and way you bunch it around your body, a foot poking out not to get tangled

Satan and Mammon will probably die laughing instead of at his hands, but Lucifer could really care less

Lucifer idly wonders where you’d curled up that he totally missed you, and escorts you gently but red-faced to your room

Satan and Mammon tag along, and when they see Lucifer come out with his cape they can only deduce he put you to bed.

Mammon

With no homework to do and some money in the bank, Mammon was ready to spend the weekend tearing up the town with you!

He was fresh out of the shower and mostly dressed, searching feverishly for his beloved white and brown jacket

Mammon wasn’t the cleanest person by nature (hello, money hoarder and collector of interesting/valuable things) so he tidied up as he went

As he started to suspect one of his little brothers was holding the jacket for ransom, he sent out a group text asking about it

There were several typical smart-ass responses (Lucifer, Asmo, and Satan) and he was in the middle of a snark fight when you showed up at his door somewhere between bashful and chill

In HIS jacket

Mammon’s brain shuts down.

HIS baby in HIS jacket? HELL YEAH! OH GOD, IT’S TOO PERFECT!

FIEND, TAKING HIS HEART!

“It’s kind of a human thing,” you explain. “There is a one-jacket fee among couples. Usually it’s a hoodie.” you tease, reluctant to shrug it off, “But this seems to be your only jacket so I guess I could give it back.”

It’s very subtle, but he’s worn that jacket for centuries and no amount of detergent can disguise the scent that makes his heart skip a beat

Something about the smell of your skin and a hint of his has him purring

You hold the jacket out to him. Mammon wraps his fingers around it and swings it around until he’s holding it over one shoulder

The yellow takes over in his eyes a little more. Gets a little brighter and intense.

“You want to take anything else off?” he husks playfully

Your day out turns into staying in and Mammon is happy to trade his jacket for a shirt you can sleep in (like, forever. It’s fine. Whatever, dummy.)

Leviathan

It was actually really hard to steal Levi’s clothes because he lived in his hoodie and turtleneck. His RAD uniform was really just for show and that wasn’t what you were looking for, anyways. You didn’t want to chill in uniform.

He was very particular about his merch because certain shirts were collector’s items and he didn’t like people messing with his folding patterns

You went to Asmo with your dilemma and he found it absolutely ADORABLE. It was almost enough to make him jealous, really

Somehow (Asmo being Asmo?), the fifth- born was able to swipe one of the green button-ups Levi wore under his RAD uniform

His first thought was to alter the garment to make it fit you (matching outfits? YES!) but Levi would probably kill him. His big bro hated shopping for clothes unless he HAD to have them.

Asmo gets the bright idea to magically/temporarily alter the fabric to fit you. Maybe Levi will like it so much he’ll just give you a shirt! 💖 (Or get some fucking outside time and go buy more shirts!)

Levi catches his own scent somewhere outside of the door and his brain goes off. He hits the pause button at lightning speed.

No one else smells like him! They haven’t shared bath products in centuries! He already finished his laundry so what’s happening?!

His first thought is: Mammon broke into my room while I was in the bathroom and stole something to pawn!

Levi doesn’t even think to take inventory of his stuff, barging out of his room to hunt down his big brother

He’s yelling and whining before he even sees him. Then he sees you. In his shirt.

All the angry words die in his throat as the absolute mortification and adoration sets his face on fire

SO KAWAII! It basically makes up for your normie-ness.

Levi’s stuck standing there, blushing his head off and unable to say anything as his fists shake with joy and nervousness

He gets a nosebleed. One of his brothers are laughing at him.

You guide him back to his room to take care of him, Levi lets you and becomes very fascinated with the idea of you in his clothes .Lots of petting and figuring out you look DOUBLY MEGA CUTE when the magic wears off and you’re just in a pool of fabric.

He’s totally down for matching clothes and definitely lets you keep the one you’re wearing.

Satan

His wardrobe is very...interesting...to say the least

Colors and personal combinations aside, Satan actually has a very smart wardrobe. Lots of basics and easy layers.

You can’t steal his signature green sweater or the blazer he seems to live in, so you settle for an emerald knit sweater that has a bit of a v-neck/university feel to it

It takes Satan a while to notice, as he’s buried in a book. You two tend to gravitate towards each other and just enjoy a cozy, companionable silence

He’s just finished a book and is debating cracking open one from the stack to his left when the color catches his eye

The smooth, sly comment dies on his lips when he realizes he likes the damn thing because IT’S HIS

You look very cozy and warm. It’s a very ‘cuddle me’ kind of look.

Perhaps you could warm his lap? Or give his poor hands a rest under the hem?

Very cheeky and clever. Grabs you by the sleeve of it just to ‘answer his curiosity about whether it matched his nails’.

Does he have a cute university student kink? If he didn’t, he does now?

There’s a 50-50 chance of you guys having sex.

Will definitely want to hold you and cuddle you close, petting the fabric and whispering compliments into it.

If you don’t already have a business/academic attire, Satan will definitely suggest a few pieces because YES. This is a thing he loves and it DOES things to him.

Asmodeus

He’s the type to let you think you stole something

Probably stages what he wants you to steal just so you take it

Honestly, I could just see him dumping some of his clothes on you because you’re dating now and this is a cute thing he read about!

It’s super likely he’s into couple outfits or coordinating outfits, so he’s either spent time in his closet pre-planning or asked you to try on a million things just because

This cutie pie purposely orders THE BIGGEST thing he can find so you can both fit in it at the same time

Asmo loves you to pieces no matter what, but seeing you in his clothes makes him squeal and hit a note Mammon has threatened to murder him over

Ever dramatic, this is like, THE BEST THING EVER

A MILLION Devilgram posts about it (safe ones, of course)

Do you guys spark a couple’s trend and spade of lover’s stealing each other’s clothes to snap a victory pic? Maybe

Probably fake faints at the sheer glory of you in HIS bomb ass clothes. Definitely fans himself

Spoils you rotten with compliments

This man is weak. “Gorgeous! Smother me.” as he falls back on the bed and gestures to his face

He won’t turn down the idea of sexy times (depends on your libido, comfort, etc.) but sometimes he makes raunchy jokes just to be funny. Smothering could also mean using him like a body pillow (which he’s totally okay with).

You get max cuddles and WILL be the envy of Devilgram

Beelzebub

Beel felt a little guilty for leaving you at the House of Lamentation with his brothers

You guys were supposed to hang out after school but there was an emergency practice. The coach always got pre-game jitters and demanded a few last runs. He showered and ran back to the House, hoping you still had time for him.

He tiptoed quietly into his shared room, unsurprised to find you waiting there for him. You’d been caught in Belphie’s sleepy little aura by the looks of it,

Beelzebub couldn’t help the grin or little hum that made it past his lips. Your eyes were open but he didn’t know if you actually saw him. You looked super cute in his humongous bed though

You were getting sleepier and sleepier, your eyelids getting heavier and heavier. Beel pulled the sheets over you and gentle untangled the arm you managed to latch on to

Maybe waking up to a bit of food would make up for everything! Beel toiled away in the kitchen, making a cute little snack tray for the two of you.

In reality, it could probably feed at least twenty, and he ate at least half of what he prepped.

Beel returned to the room with what he considered a decent amount (scraps, kind of, but enough variety! He tried! It’s the thought that counts!) and was surprised to see his sheets all tangled and half-kicked from the bed

You were wearing his jacket now, passed out and turned into the furry lining that usually went across his shoulders and neck

DId you sleep walk? He was trying to understand how you’d gotten into his jacket

Beel realized it was the first time you’d been in his clothes and it was enough to make his heart melt

Super huge on you, obviously (extra fabric everywhere), but so cute! He could basically swaddle you in his jacket

“They’re a restless sleeper,” Belphie yawned. “I thought it would help them calm down.”

It used to work on Belphie, so Beel could see why he resorted to it

Beel offered his twin some food, sitting carefully on your other side.

He shifted some of the parka fur away from your face, trying to fix your hair and nudge your chin up so your nose wasn’t buried in anything. He stroked your cheek a little, mesmerized by the sight of you and how you felt.

Belphie declined, muttering something about, ‘Stop looking like that and eat your food! Gross!’ before Beel settled for patting your head one last time and eating quietly

Belphegor

He’s another one that’s hard to steal from

You’d think it’d be easy since he sleeps all the time, but Belphie really only wears 10% of the clothes he buys

Yes, he’s a pajama snob and has all things comfy and cozy, but hardly any of them smell like him because he falls asleep anywhere with little issue (no special clothes required!)

You thought about stealing his blue cardigan with the pocket, but he’s always sleeping in it!

Belphie picks up on your train of thought, and the frustration, because you fall asleep thinking about it. Dreaming about coyly stealing his cardigan and being all cute and snuggly in bed

It’s enough to wake him up, shuffle to you, and break your sleep. He flops down on your bed with his cardigan unbuttoned and says ‘climb on’ while patting his chest

You’re obviously sleepy and confused and he loves it. Belphie slides you onto his chest and wraps his arms around you, resting bits of the fabric on your back as you settle into him

It’s not the same but it’s close enough

Would you be offended if he got you cow pajamas so he could snuggle you like his favorite pillow? He falls asleep wondering about the answer

He wakes up to see that Beel has covered the two of you with his favorite blanket.

You in his blanket? Against him? Slowly smelling of him and his clothes? It’s the best thing to fall asleep to.

Makes a joke out of your clothes-stealing quest by stripping one of his pillowcases off and putting you in it like a little sack. You have to stay on his bed now because you’re his pillow and all pillows stay on the bed.

“What? You wanted to smell like me! It’s something I use!“ Belphie defends as you wonder whether or not you like this human pillow thing while he snuggles you.

[sunnysidevans]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 : 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝

Summary: Everyone goes through stages in life, meeting new people, falling in love, getting married , having children. Some people think it won’t happen to them but maybe fate hadn’t lead you in the right direction.

Warnings: COMPLETE FLUFF , mentions of anxiety , mostly fluff an some swear words

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

PREVIOUS STAGE | THE STAGES MASTERLIST

AUTHORS NOTE: Holy crap!! we have made it to the end of another series!! what?! I have enjoyed writing this series so much, it was an idea that sat in the brain for a while and I can’t thank you enough for reading and enjoying it. I can’t believe I have finished this and I just hope you have enjoyed. Thank you all again. xo. 

THIRTY EIGHT WEEKS.

As the alarm clock beside you blared in your ear you reached over, hitting it off and rolled over to face your husband. Groaning you opened your eyes as you felt the bed shift with his weight. Watching his back as he made his way to the closet you sighed “do you really have to go?” you asked as you tried to sit up slowly with your swollen belly. He sighed, “Yes baby, I’m sorry it’s just a quick meeting before the few weeks we take off” he said as he laid his pants out on the end of the bed with his suit, you smiled as he smiled at you from the end of the bed “i’m gonna shower alright?” he asked as you nodded slowly “yeah, I’ll go down and iron your pants” you said as you slowly made your way out of bed. Smiling Chris made his way to you as he placed his hands on your stomach with a grin, “hi little one” he smiled kissing your stomach gently as you giggled, looking up at you through his lashes he raised his eyebrows “no matter how much you do that, your beard always tickled me” you smiled as he laughed and made his way to the bathroom.

Making your way slowly downstairs,  groaning, being pregnant you were guilty of becoming clingy to Chris. Before you were completely okay with the weird schedule that came with his life but as you have progressed and as the hormones have become more powerful you couldn’t be away from him. Chris was heading out for a few days to help with his projects and you weren’t able to travel as your due date was quickly approaching. Getting everything out you began to iron his suit pants as he showered upstairs. As you hung the pants up on the hanger with his top and his tie, Chris made his way out of the bathroom, towel around his waist, dangerously low. You turned as you made eye contact with him as you knew you wouldn’t let him go if you kept the eye contact. “I know you don’t want me to go” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around you from behind “I promise it won't be that long, plus mom is gonna stay a few nights with you incase you go into labor” he rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs on your stomach. You nodded as you rested your hands on his “I know I just don’t know what's happening” you admitted as he grinned “it’s just the little one making you feel your feelings more intensely”  he kissed your temple and made his way to get dressed. 

Sitting on the couch you waited for Chris. You began to pet  dodgers head as it laid in your lap as you sat back and waited. Sitting up, Dodger made his way to Chris at the end of the steps with a happy bark which soon changed, noticing the bag at his side. Slowly you made your way to your feet as you walked to him at the door. “I love you okay?” he smiled as you nodded, you felt the tears pricking your eyes as you took a deep breath. “I love you too babe” you smiled back at him as he leaned down to your belly, “Do not even think of coming while I’m gone” he grinned as you giggled at the kick, “I think I felt an okay dad in there” you smiled as he stood and kissed the top of your head. You followed him to the door as you stood on the porch and saw him off, hand on your stomach, turning to you you smiled and waved to him as he went to get in the car he blew a kiss to you, in which you caught and held to your chest. Making your way inside you shut the door with a deep breath, wiping your cheeks, You felt like a child crying as he was gone, “god damn hormones” you whispered as you sat down on the couch with dodger and began the waiting game, for three days. 

Falling asleep on the couch you groaned as you adjusted and noticed a blanket and a cup of water on the table, furrowing your eyebrows you sat up, looking around the house you noticed the light on in the kitchen. Getting up slowly you grabbed the candle sitting on the living room coffee table, making your way to the kitchen you were met with your mother in law, making soup at the stove. “Holy shit” you whispered “hey!” Lisa replied quickly “don’t scare a pregnant woman! You startled me!” you laughed, hand on your chest as she smiled. Making your way to the stove you gave a small side hug “hi ma, how are you?” you asked as she smiled “I wanted you to eat, Chris called form the airport and said you weren’t taking him leaving well” you sighed as you finally made your way to sit down at the table and nodded “I didn’t”. She turned to you with the bowl of soup and crackers, “what's going on?” she asked as she set the bowl in front of you and a bowl down for herself. “I think I’m nervous I will go into labor while he’s gone?” you questioned as you turned to face her “I of course missed him when he had to leave before but I feel, worse this time” you looked at her as she nodded “well honey, your hormones too are much higher but it’s completely normal to feel that way, he’s gonna be gone out of the area its okay!” she took your hand gently “I’m here for you the next few days and I won't let that baby out if it kills me” you laughed as you smiled and squeezed her hand gently. 

The three days Chris was gone was hard for you. Your anxiety was higher than ever as you worried the baby would come before he made it home, You couldn’t think of having the baby without him. You heard the door open from the end of the steps as you smiled, waddling your way down the steps you smiled as he looked at you. “There’s my precious cargo” he smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck “hey what about me?” you asked, as he shrugged “eh you work too” you laughed as you kissed his lips gently. “You have a good trip?” you asked as he nodded as you took his bag and made your way upstairs slowly, “Yeah! It was boring but it was great! I enjoyed it alot” you smiled at his reply and nodded. Sorting his bag out you tossed what belonged in the laundry in the bin and took care of what was clean. “Did Ma staying help you?” he asked as he climbed into the bed, sweatpants and hoodie in tow, his slippers on. You nodded eagerly as you joined him in bed “yes I appreciate her staying with me” you smiled as you climbed into his side, laying your head on his chest. “Good” he whispered as he traced shapes on your back slowly, the tv playing lowly “I’m glad the baby listened” he smiled as you nodded “Me too” you giggled nuzzling closer into his chest wrapping your arms around his waist. 

THIRTY NINE WEEKS.

With your due date a week in sight Chris was not letting you do anything. You attempted to do laundry, couldn’t. You would attempt to do dishes, make dinner, Chris would not let you leave the sights of the bedroom or the living room, It didn’t help Dodger was in on this as well and wouldn’t let you leave his sights either. You covered yourself with the comforter as Chris made his way around the corner, carrying a tray, “what's this?” you smiled as dodger had joined you shortly after. “Well, I brought us cocoa, and some snacks and I thought we could watch a movie!” he grinned as you smiled widely, you nodded as you took the mug “that’s a wonderful idea baby” you smiled “you’re picking the movie” you sat back as you sipped the cocoa. Making himself comfortable Chris chose the movie, as you made yourself comfortable in his side you smiled. As you were comfortable you stopped and looked at him, as he took in your face he furrowed his eyebrows “what’s wrong baby?” he asked as you set your mug down “uh not to alarm you but I think my water just broke”.

As soon as your water broke Chris was in full super husband/dad mode. You didn’t have a chance to even help grab the hospital bag you two had packed. “Okay buddy you hold down the fort, when we come back you will have your new little friend!” Chris yelled as he closed the door behind him and helped you down the steps and into the car, as you continued your breathing exercises given to you in class. Holding your hand as he sped off to the hospital Chris continued his breathing “I’m the one having the baby” you laughed as you gripped his hand “I know but shit i’m nervous” he groaned as the light turned red. “Are you okay?!” he asked as he turned to you as you nodded “yes yes I’m okay I-” you cut yourself off as the contraction hit. Making it to the hospital Chris carried you to the doors where nurses got you a wheelchair and before you knew it you were in a room and in a gown, your husband beside you. 

After a thirty six hour labor and Chris almost passing out in the delivery room with you. You sat in the bed, sore and slightly sedated as you were handed the little baby in the pink blanket. You couldn’t help but coo as the nurse set her in your arms, smiling as you adjusted the blanket for her little hand to soon grab hold of your fingers. “Hi little one” you whispered as she soon opened her eyes and blue little orbs met yours. Soon you felt a presence beside you and felt Chris’s hand on your hair, stroking it slowly “can you believe we made that?” he asked as you smiled looking at him to see the tears falling down his cheeks gently, reaching out you gently wiped his cheeks and whispered “We did make her” you smiled “I can’t believe it”. “Here let me take her” he whispered, “you need to rest” you smiled as you handed her to Chris. “Hi there little one, Hi Violet” he whispered to her as he sat down in the chair and continued to make faces at his little girl. 

You laid in the bed as you listened to him talk to your little girl, if someone asked you almost five years ago if this was where you’d be, married happily with a baby, you would’ve laughed at them. You didn’t think you would ever find a man worth your time, worth the energy to put in, yet in the bar that night, he met you unexpectedly, you had no idea a plate of cheese fries and a slice of pizza would find you the love of your life, nor did you think it would bring you this. You couldn’t help but thank that plate of cheese fries for what it’s brought you. A plate of cheese fries bringing you through the stages of life, stages you never anticipated to happen for you.

+

TAGLIST: @onetwo3000​ | @memoriesat30 | @denise1605 | @angrybirdcr @hopefulbonkvoidland | @tessa-bl | @patzammit | @uniquebeautyqueen | @cocomel0613