#sorry this isn’t as good I didn’t have a whole lot of ideas for these two groups for some reason

[aetherraeys]

biting problem

remus lupin x afab!reader ⊹ 1.2k

cw ⟢ mdni +18, smut, swearing, praise, slightly dom!remus if you squint, lots and lots of biting, intended lowercase

remus has only ever had one biting incident, but as his transformation draws closer, he can't seem to hold back a territiorial demanding itch.

a/n: re-evaluating my life and why i have no remus

remus never really classed himself as particularly territorial, considering his condition, but he can admit that sharing isn’t exactly his forte. why should what’s his be someone else’s as well, he just couldn’t justify it—in his mind sharing isn’t caring because he’s only getting less.

this sentiment extended quite far into remus’ life, he didn’t think he was territorial over you. again, he’ll acknowledge he could be a bit possessive, if anything, blaming his split-natured mind. the wolf in him if you will.

when he stumbled into the bathroom, rubbing his eyes roughly, sluggishly leaning on the doorframe—still clad in his boxers. his eyes only focused when he heard the smallest wince leave your lips, almost fully ready for work, padding closer to you his voice laced with its usual gravelly rasp, “you alright, dove?”

you hummed a soft, “yeah,” but you neck was craned, uniform unbutton and shoulder bare as you applied some sort of cream. now he was behind you, fingertips ghosting over you shoulder and eyebrows furrowing upwards in concern. “mmm, what’s that then?”, he plucked your hand from its spot, taking a good look at the tiny red mark. it wasn’t a hickey, no, there was one a few centimeters down—just the one, though.

“when’d ya get that?”

he turned you towards him, his hands now resting in the familiar dip of your waist, you rebuttoned your shirt, aligning your collar and nametag—before tilting your head up. placing a soft kiss on his lips, he leaned down and into you, leading you both backwards. palms caging you in as they slid over the bathroom counter. light and airy sighs bouncing off the walls—when it clicked.

oh god, it was evidence of the night before.

he pulled back, a shocked look striking his face, “did…did i nip you when we—?”, the pink tint that rose to the tops of his cheekbones as he clearly recalled your activities made a giggle bubble in your chest.

now, remus was nothing if not a gentlemen, opting to only occasionally leave marks on you—and always in place no one else could see.

but this time, not only was it unintentional, it was much more precariously close to be a bite mark than remus would like to admit. he looked mortified by this realisation—stammering strings of; “i didn’t mean to—does it hurt, dove?—m’ sorry,”

hushing him with a final peck, you went about the rest your day, completely oblivious of the embarrassment remus felt for the rest of his.

it was times like this when remus’ possessive tendencies truly shone. typically a few days before his transformations he would be clingy, low-energy, occasionally irritable but overall nothing you couldn’t handle.

this month however, you had no idea why he was so insatiable. and neither did he, to be honest, one minute you were comfortably lying in your bed, phone in one hand, the other combing lazily through his curls, remus’ head on your stomach—perfectly innocent.

the next, remus had a firm grip on the round of your hips, rocking feverishly against you.

and when he pressed his face into the curve of your neck, teeth just barely scraping over the spot he’d marked before, you felt it—how hard he was fighting against the instinct to do it again.

but it was the whine that proceed to pour from you lips that did it. he was already teetering on the edge, but with the next moon so close, he just really couldn’t help it.

your breath hitching, feeling him shift, now using the weight of his whole body to fuck into you, the angle now impossibly deeper—stretching you out, “thaaat’s it, c’mon c’mon–”, brows knitting together tightly, he was so desperate, utterly drunk on you.

a low growl rumbled in his chest as he buried himself in the crook of your neck, teeth scraping, tongue soothing, lips pressing desperate, possessive kisses along your skin.

“mine,” he whispered between each press of his mouth. “mine.” and you were gasping, entire body wracking with sensitive shudders—one hand tangling into the tufts of hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. the other—palm pressed flush against the skin of his stomach, poorly attempting to reduce the weight of his heavy thrusts on your swollen lips.

“fuck—” he hissed, interlocking your fingers in his, bringing your hand away, “don’t—don’t push me away, dove,” head lolling to the side, exposing the trail of bites marks and hickeys that were littered from behind your ear, alllll the way down to your, now sore and sensitive nipples.

broken cries, ”rem—fuck, s-so”, his thumb drawing rough, frenzied little circles on your clit. jolts of electricity running down your spine—nails raking down his back, arching into him.

“sooo pretty for me, take it—haah, you can take i-it,”

walls clenching down so sinfully around him, his pace didn’t let up, the bed groaning out creeks under the pressure.

so dizzy from the pleasure, hips stuttering into, then bucking away from his; torn, conflicted. he couldn’t have that, no, taking his arms and hooking them under your knees, trapping your hips beneath his, no escape. the new angle had him pressing to deliciously against that spot, your eyes rolling into your head, “o-oh, oh! ’close—rem, rem!”

his jaw slacking, freckled cheekbones reddening with every push, push, push-

“m’here, m’here—y’feel s-so good,”—his rich, honeyed voice breaking at the end, dropping one of your thighs to hold your hand—at least grounding you as he worked you through your high. low gasping moans of, “fu-y/n-y/n-y/n,” tumbing past his lips through his last bullying thrusts.

letting out a shuddering breath, he fell onto the bed just barely next you. limbs still tangled together, his fingertips brushing the hair that’d stuck to your forehead away.

he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, your fucked-out expression, the aftershocks still wracking through as he cleaned you up.

peppering small kisses in the spaces absent of marks that already began to blossom and bloom. words soft, just above a whisper—“you with me, love?” and “did so good,”— trying to bring you back down to earth. dressing you in a shirt of his, coaxing you to take small sips of water, soothing your slightly coarse throat.

when the next morning rolled in, you’d woken up to a hot bath, cup of tea ready and the most remorseful looking remus you’d ever seen. and it only got worse when we watched you strip off his tshirt—his fingers traced over the marks he'd left behind, guilt evident in the furrow of his brows as he surveyed the evidence of last night’s desperation—bites, bruises, and hickeys scattered across your skin more than it wasn’t.

his lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to apologize again, but all that came out was a soft, guilty chuckle. "oh, ‘m so sorry, angel," he murmured, pressing an almost too gentle kiss to the worst of them. "really didn’t know I’d done such a number on you…"

just sending him a biteless glare, grumbling lowly about needing a turtleneck.

my first time writing smut, so pls be nice x

[freedomfireflies]

One Day*

Summary: An extra for 404*

The one where you still hate Harry, but turns out, you might be having his baby.

Word Count: 5.4k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, spanking, brief choking, slight angst (happy ending), mentions of pregnancy and babies! *Please be so gentle with yourself and only continue if you feel comfortable! 💞*

“I’m late.”

“For what?”

You huff. “I’m late,” you repeat, gesturing frantically toward your hips. “A week late. Which I know can happen, but…not really to me, so…I’m late. And I think we’re fucked.”

Harry blinks. Looks down at your stomach. Looks up at your face. “Oh.”

“Oh?” You rear back. “That’s all you have to say for yourself is oh?”

He lifts his left shoulder in nonchalant shrug before flopping down onto your sofa. “I don’t know. What did you want me to say?”

“I…I don’t know,” you huff. “I kind of thought you’d…yell. Or freak out or something. Or ask me if I’m keeping it.”

“Do you want me to freak out?”

“Well…no. Not really.”

“Do you want to keep it?”

“I…I don’t know, I don’t even…I’m not even sure if I am yet or not.”

“Okay.” He nudges his glasses up before crossing his arms. “Well did you get a test?”

You glance toward the pharmacy bag still sitting on your kitchen counter. It’s been mocking you ever since you picked it up. Staring you down, sticking out its tongue. One, tiny little box that’ll determine the next chapter of your life. It’s almost infuriating. 

“Yeah,” you mumble. “I, um…got one on the way home from work.”

“Okay. Have you taken it yet?”

“Not…exactly.”

His brow raises. “Do you…need help or something?”

You scowl. “It’s peeing on a stick, I think I’ve got it covered.”

“Yeah, well, knowing you, you’d find a way to fuck it up.” He smirks. “Sure hope our baby gets my brains instead of yours.”

You grab the pillow beside him and give him a firm whack. “That’s not funny.”

He laughs as he winces. “Good. I wasn’t being funny.”

“Then, stop it. And stop being so calm.”

“You just said you preferred calm—”

“Well…it’s scaring me now. So what gives?”

Another shrug. “I don’t know. I just don’t really feel the need to waste a reaction on something we don’t even know is happening yet. Take the test and then I’ll freak out if you’d like.”

“You say that like someone that’s had a lot of pregnancy scares.”

He snorts. “No, I say that like someone who knows freaking out won’t exactly help you right now. So just take the goddamn test, Tinkerbell. And we’ll go from there.”

Unamused, but somehow slightly comforted, you oblige and snatch the box from the table before retreating to the bathroom.

Once the timer has been set, you slowly make your way back to him.

He’s still sitting on the sofa. Calm. Unaffected. Watching you without a care in the world. Like his whole life isn’t about to change. 

It drives you nuts.

“Five minutes,” you tell him.

He nods.

Warily, you sit in the chair to his left, staring holes through your shoes as your heart races inside your chest. You’re not sure how you got here. Not sure where you could possibly go. You aren’t ready for a baby. Not…yet. Especially not one with…him.

“Hey,” he calls, pulling your attention up. “S’the matter with you?”

Your eyes narrow. “What the hell do you think?”

Another casual shrug that makes your teeth grit. “I thought you’d be happy.”

“Happy?” You lean back. “Why on Earth would I be happy about getting stuck with your DNA for the rest of my life?”

He smiles. “I don’t know. You just seem like the type of girl to want a lot of babies.”

You scoff. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I am not.” You don’t think.

“Really? Is that why you begged me to breed you?”

“I didn’t actually mean it. That’s just what you say in a moment like that.”

His eyebrow raises.

You hesitate. “Did…did you mean it?”

“Kind of,” he admits. “I mean, yeah, maybe I didn’t mean right this second, but…I don’t hate the idea.”

“You actually want to be a father?” You snort. “Bullshit. You hate kids. I’ve seen you.”

“I don’t hate kids, I just don’t care about them when they aren’t mine.” He throws his arm over the back of the chair and smirks. “I like my nieces, though. They’re chill.”

You blink. “You…you have nieces? Wait, you have siblings?”

“Yeah. One brother. He’s got two kids and they’re cute as shit.”

“Oh.” Your head starts to pound. “See? We can’t have a baby when I don’t even know anything about you.”

He chuckles to himself before nodding his chin at you. “All right, fine. Go ahead. Ask me whatever.”

“What?”

“Ask me what you wanna know.”

You think. “Okay. How often do you see your family?”

“Often enough. They live in California, and they work a lot. But we call every couple of weeks.”

“Oh. That’s…surprisingly nice. Uh…do you have a history of disease in your family?”

He grins. “Excuse me?”

“I need to know what I’m getting myself into.” You motion at him. “Answer.”

“This isn’t an interview—”

“Answer.”

“No,” he says. “Not that I know of anyway.”

“Great. Do you plan to be a deadbeat father?”

His eyes roll. “I’m not dignifying that with a response.”

“So, yes? You do? Oh, great—”

“No, because that’s not a fair fucking question—”

“It is a fair question. If I have to raise this baby alone, I want to know—”

“Of course you wouldn’t fucking be alone. Do you really think so little of me—”

“I don’t think about you at all. How am I supposed to know what you’ll do—”

“I wouldn’t leave you alone,” he nearly snaps. He takes a breath to calm himself before adding, “Even if it wasn’t my baby, I wouldn’t leave you alone.”

Your lashes flutter and you can feel your heart lodging in your throat. “Fine. Last question.”

He waits.

“Did you ever want kids…before? With…her?”

He doesn’t have to think for very long, but the mention of her makes him smile. “Nah. We talked about it, but we weren’t ready. We liked it being just us, you know? We had a bunch of shit we wanted to do. We were a long way from babies and a white picket fence.”

You try to blink back the tears swimming their way to your eye. You can still see that beautiful picture of her in his room. An entire future of love and life and adventures that he lost. Now…he’s stuck with you.

“Oh,” you murmur.

His brows furrow. “What?”

“Nothing.” You swipe your knuckle along your cheek. “So, you probably still aren’t ready.”

“I didn’t say that.”

You give him an incredulous look. “Harry, come on. You aren’t ready for a baby. I’m not ready for a baby. We…we don’t know each other, we don’t like each other…we can’t do this. You know that.”

“Do I?” He leans forward. “It’s a baby, not a bomb. I think we can handle it.”

“Well, I don’t. You don’t even like me. You can’t have a baby with me.”

“Why not? People do it all the time.”

“But not us.” You give him a firm stare. “Harry, we love our jobs. We want careers, not kids. So having a baby kind of gets in the way of that. There’s…there’s diaper changes, and teething, and potty training—”

“So?”

“So. We don’t work together well. In fact, it’s a rather well-known fact that we don’t get along. We can’t possibly raise a kid. We’d ruin it.” You study him for a beat, unnerved by the nonchalance in his tone. “Why do I get the feeling you actually want this to be real?”

Another shrug and you nearly lunge at him. “I don’t know,” he murmurs, resting his elbows on his knees while he glances at the floor. “I’m older now. Maybe it’s time to…think about settling down.”

Your face scrunches. “Ew. That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

He laughs. “Look, I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it, but…maybe it could be a good thing.”

You stand from your chair and pace the length of your small living room. “This is crazy. This is crazy. I can’t have a baby, I’m…I’m not ready. I’m too young, I…I don’t even know what I’d do with one. Or if I even have a maternal instinct.”

“Probably not,” Harry offers, smirking when you glare. “You won’t really know until you have one.”

“Oh, great.”

“Listen, if you feel like you aren’t ready…we can find another alternative,” he says, softening his voice. “Okay? There are plenty of other options and we’ll find one you feel comfortable with.”

A tad wary of his sympathetic answer, you eye him closely. “Yeah? And what if we disagree?”

“We won’t,” he says calmly. “Your body, your decision.”

“Right,” you snort. “I’m sure.”

“I mean it. I wouldn’t be the one having to carry it.” He nods as though to reassure you. “Honestly, Tink. This would be your decision, one hundred percent. It’s not mine to make. Just to support.”

The tears rush a little faster as you sniffle and step closer. “You say that now, but what if I decide something you don’t like?”

“I will like it. I promise,” he murmurs, standing up in order to move toward you. “If you want to keep it, great. If you don’t, great.”

“I…I…” You suck in a deep breath, unable to slow the wild racing in your chest. “Fuck, I can’t…I don’t know—”

“Hey, okay, easy. Easy, Princess,” he says, quickly reaching out to take you in his arms and ease you against his chest. “Relax. Okay? Just breathe. Breathe for me.”

“I…I don’t think I can—”

“Yes, you can. You are.” His lips press to the top of your head while his hand runs up and down your back soothingly. “I’m right here. Do you hear me? I’m right here. You’re not alone. You won’t be alone. I promise.”

You squeeze your arms together and hold on with everything you have. Right now, he feels like your only anchor in the world. The only person strong enough to carry you both through to the other side. And for the first time since you met him…you feel glad that he’s here.

The two of you stand in the middle of the room for a long while before he finally murmurs, “I think it’s been five minutes.”

Your eyes close and you grip his shirt in your first. “I’m…I’m not ready to look.”

“Okay.” You can hear the smile in his response. “Okay, we can wait.”

So, you do as the truth starts to build in your chest. Inescapable, no matter how hard you try to swallow it down.

Finally, you can’t help but whisper, “You know what scares me the most?”

“Hm?”

“…that maybe I’m hoping it’s real.”

The apartment falls silent again. He doesn’t push you to elaborate, but you can feel his heart beating just a little faster inside his chest.

“I don’t know why,” you continue. “I don’t…I really don’t think I’m ready, but…but what if I should be? What if…what if we met and we started this because…because we were supposed to do this?”

He considers this. “Like fate.”

“Yeah.” You roll your lips into your mouth. “Because I still hate you. I do. I just…I’m starting to get this picture in my head of us. Being a family. Having a big house in a good school district. Tucking them into bed at night and reading them stories. Which is…dumb.”

“No,” he mumbles. “No, it’s not dumb. I’ve been thinking about it, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Because I meant what I said, I’d love to get you pregnant. You’d look really fucking hot.”

You chuckle. “Yes, so you’ve mentioned.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Uh…okay?”

He smirks. “I never had a breeding kink until I met you.”

You lean back and swat your hand across his chest. “You’re so annoying.”

“What? I’m being serious.” He grins and those dimples pop free. God, you hope your kids have his dimples—

No. Nope. You aren’t going there.

You shake your head, ridding yourself of the thought. “Whatever. You’re just horny.”

“Maybe. But it’s still true.” His gentle gaze sweeps across your face. “If you wanna do this…we’ll do it. You and me. We’ll have this baby, and we’ll raise it to be really smart, and funny, and to not take shit from anybody.”

You laugh, brushing away a few more tears. “Maybe we can teach it to write code.”

“Oh, fucking obviously.”

The two of you smile before the excitement seems to fizzle and Harry’s brows pull together.

“You know I don’t actually hate you, right?” he says.

You blink. “What?”

“I know that’s our thing, and I know you said it earlier, but…I don’t actually hate you. This baby wouldn’t grow up with two parents that don’t like each other.”

“Oh…I…I know.”

“Good. Because I don’t want that to be one of the reasons you think we can’t do it. I’d fucking love that baby. And I’d love you for carrying it.”

Instantly, you both seem to still. The four-letter word sounds so loud inside such a small room.

I’d love you.

He clears his throat, shifting a bit as he glances toward the kitchen. “I mean, I’d…I’d appreciate you for carrying it—”

“No, yeah, I know,” you stammer. “I know what you mean.”

“Good. Yeah.”

The two of you fall quiet again before you softly admit, “I think I’m ready to look.”

“Okay.” He squeezes your hip. “I’m right here.”

You take in a deep breath before begrudgingly pulling yourself out of his arms. You already miss his warmth and the way he felt like home and your stomach turns as you slip into the bathroom.

With trembling hands, you reach for the stick that sits on the edge of your sink. And in those three seconds, an entire lifetime flashes before your eyes. 

The good, the bad, and the everything in-between. You see a house and a dog and a big backyard. You see two little kids rolling in the grass and jumping into the pool. You hear them begging for a bedtime story and crying when they scrape their knee.

You see a dozen birthdays and holidays and visits to the zoo. You see their heartbreaks and triumphs, their successes and letdowns. You see a million goodnight kisses and cuddles on the couch. 

And then…you see Harry.

In every picture, every moment. Taking them to their first baseball game and picking them up from their first dance. Sneaking them into R-rated movies even after you explicitly said no and feeding them far too much candy and popcorn.

You see him teach your son how to tie a tie and dance with your daughter as she stands on his feet. You see him cooking breakfast in the kitchen, flour all over his face. You see him curled up in bed, his head on your chest, your fingers in his hair. You hear him tell you how happy he is. How glad that he found you.

It’s a beautiful life. Even if it’s not the one you imagined for yourself. And in that moment, you decide that it doesn’t matter what the test says. If that’s your future, so be it. 

As long as you get to live it with him.

“So?” Harry calls from the hall.

You swallow thickly and slowly glance down.

Negative.

Negative.

No baby. No pregnancy. No white-picket fence.

You stare at the test for at least a full minute. You aren’t sure how you feel. Relieved. Disappointed. Upset. Thankful. Confused.

“Tink?”

You turn around. “Uh…it’s negative,” you report, handing it to him. “False alarm. I guess I’m just late.”

He glances over the stick with a rather blank expression before looking at you. “Are you okay?”

You nod. “Yeah. This is definitely the better outcome. I’m just…”

“What?”

“I don’t know. I guess I was just starting to get used to the idea.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, handing it back. “I know.”

You throw the test away. “Sorry for making you come all the way over here for that.”

“Hey, whoa—” He strides into the bathroom. “What the fuck are you talking about? Of course I’d be here.”

“I just…I wasted your time. I should have taken it before I called you—”

“Tink,” he sighs, taking your cheeks in his hands. “Stop. You can always call me for shit like this.” He looks at you, then amends, “You can always me. For anything. You know that.”

A tear slips from your eye without warning, and you suck in a sharp breath. “I don’t know why I’m so disappointed. This is what I wanted—”

“I know,” he says gently. “I know. It’s hard.”

“Yeah.” You hiccup. “But this is good, right? This is better?”

For a moment, he says nothing. He simply stares at you with a rather sympathetic expression. Or maybe it’s forlorn. Maybe he’s disappointed. Upset that you aren’t giving him what he wants.

Then, he dips down to kiss the tip of your nose. “This is good,” he whispers, and you know he means it. “We would have figured it out. And you would have been a wonderful mom. But I know you. And I know you aren’t ready. Not yet.”

You close your eyes and melt into the feel of his palms against your skin. Into the way he reassures you and protects you all in the same breath. You never thought you’d feel so safe in the serenity of his touch, but here you are. Wishing for him to hold you forever.

“And when we are ready, we’ll do it on our terms,” he says. “Okay?”

Slowly, you nod. “This is good,” you repeat to yourself. “It is. Really. Things are going great at work, I’m finally secure financially, and even you and I are…kind of getting along.”

He smirks.

“This is good. This is better.” You repeat the mantra until you really believe it. “Besides, I probably wouldn’t have been a very good pregnant woman anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I feel like I’d be really cranky. Or needy. My ankles would get all swollen and I’d be hot all the time and nauseous and miserable. I’d probably try to kill you.”

“Oh, you’d definitely try to kill me. You try to kill me even when you aren’t pregnant.”

You gasp. “Rude.”

“What?” He chuckles again before his eyes slowly start to rake down your frame. “But I don’t know. I think it’ll be better than you think.”

You swat him again. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop trying to picture it.”

“Why? I told you, you’d look fucking hot.”

“Yeah…no.”

However, he only nods, moving in to subtly brush his lips against yours. “You would. Be so fucking beautiful carrying our baby. With your tits all swollen and your belly getting bigger every day.”

Truthfully, the image almost makes you grimace, but there’s something about the way he says it. The way he talks about you so reverently. A soft, sultry murmur that goes straight to your cunt. Because you know he’s not just saying it to say it. He means it. Believes it. Would do anything for it.

He tilts your head back, thumb brushing along your jaw. “And I think you like it,” he exhales. “I think you like the idea of holding me inside you. Having a part of me. Knowing that I did it to you. No one else.”

You suck in a soft breath, knees going just a bit weak. “Harry…”

“What, baby?” His mouth ghosts along your neck. “Are you thinking about it? Thinking about how pretty your tummy would look with me inside it?”

He’s evil. Absolutely evil, and you clear your throat in a desperate attempt to regain control of yourself. “Do you…have a pregnancy kink I don’t know about?” 

His lips quirk up. “Apparently.”

“Mm.” Your lashes flutter and the urge to kiss him grows stronger. “You know…some women get really horny when they’re pregnant.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Yeah. I don’t think you could handle it.”

He scoffs. “Oh, no?”

You shake your head. “I mean, do you really think you could keep up? Going for hours and hours on end? Trying to keep me satiated with your poor, limp little dick?”

He makes another noise, and you tsk.

“I mean, you can barely satisfy me now as it is. But if I was pregnant? Pfft. Forget it.”

Instantly, he’s snatching hold of your hips and yanking you against his chest. “Don’t fucking tempt me, Princess,” he nearly growls. “I’ll bend you over right now.”

“No, I don’t think you will,” you retort. “You’ve gone soft on me. Rubbing my back, kissing my hair. You wanna take care of me and honestly? It’s a little pathetic.”

His head cocks rather deviously and your pulse begins to skip. He could split you in half if he wanted to and you both know it. 

But that’s what you need right now. You don’t want to be coddled or looked after. You wanna be fucked. Tortured and teased until you’re begging for release.

You want an escape.

And in that moment, Harry decides to give you one.

He picks you up and carries you out of the bathroom while your legs quickly work to hook to his hips for stability and your arms snake around his neck.

He ignores your squeals and teasing huffs of annoyance, instead dropping you onto your mattress with a soft thud.

You glare and push up onto your elbows. “You know, you don’t have to manhandle me—”

“Shut up.”

He surges forward, lips gliding against yours as he takes a taste of you on his tongue. And kissing is easy with him. As easy breathing, like you’ve done it all your life. You know exactly what he likes, what he wants. And you give it him.

His glasses are cold against your face, keeping him from getting as close as he’d like, and after a moment, he huffs, and rips them off before tossing them aside. And even though you adore when he wears them, you happen to adore being near him even more.

Your hands are in his hair, tugging on his curls, scratching down his neck. He has the added advantage of being on top, but that doesn’t seem to stop him from turning to putty in your hands. Clay for you to mold to your liking. 

No matter how dominant he tries to be, he’s simply a man that needs to be told what to do. Taken care of. Shown. 

And you happen to like showing him.

You feel him tug on the hem of your shirt. “Off,” he breathes between carnal nips to your throat. “I want this off, Tink.”

Happy to oblige, you push him back so you can lift yourself up before you peel the fabric from your chest. You take your time with the bra, allowing the straps to fall down your arms oh so slowly. You don’t rush to reveal yourself to him, instead letting him anticipate you. Until his heart is racing and his eyes are darkening and he’s resisting the urge to do it himself.

But once he can finally see you, he nearly groans. “Oh, good fucking girl.” 

He resumes his work. More kisses are left to the warm, tender skin, and he happily sucks bruises into each swell and curve of your breast before teasing the nipple with his tongue. His hands are greedy—ravenous. Pulling at your flesh, clawing his way along your frame. 

When he reaches your thighs, you whimper. You’ve missed the way he touches you. The way he pries your legs apart and makes a home between.

In a rush, he snaps your panties off into his fist and you toss him a punishing glare.

He smiles.

You rid each other of your remaining clothes in a frantic fashion until they’re nothing more than a dirty pile on the floor. Messy and familiar. Fated.

He drops down onto the bed back first, effortlessly swapping positions as you’re placed in a straddle over his waist.

“Good girl, let me see you,” he murmurs, running his fingers down your cheek before grabbing your jaw. “Go ahead.”

You reach down and take his hardening cock in your hand, running it along your cunt before teasing yourself with the tip. 

“Didn’t stretch you,” he mumbles, leaving a few stray kisses to your collarbone. “S’might hurt, so—”

You push him in, simultaneously sinking down in an effort to feel a more prominent burn., and you both make a rather lewd noise as the grip on your chin tightens.

“Tink,” he hisses with a punishing look of his own. “Careful—”

You drop yourself further, muscles tensing around the thickness until your thighs begin to shake.

“Hey—” He forces your eyes on his. “Enough. Be gentle, m’not gonna hurt you—”

“I want you to,” you pant. “Please. I need it. I…fuck, Har, I need it. Please…please.”

He’s still frowning but his expression softens. “Baby…not like this. Maybe we should wait until you’re feeling better—"

“No,” you whimper. Desperate. Fraught. “Harry, please, don’t stop. Don’t make me stop—”

“Hey, easy, easy.” He pulls your forehead to his. “Breathe. It’s okay.”

You try to obey. Try to suck in a strangled gasp of air but it’s useless. He’s gonna take himself from you. He’s gonna leave, and you’ll be empty, and alone, and maybe he won’t ever touch you again—

He places his palm on your chest, right over your heart. “Breathe,” he says again. Soft. Quiet. “In then out. Good girl, just like that.”

You follow the sound of his voice. Mimic his inhales and exhales until the two of you fall into a synchronized rhythm. 

“Good,” he says again, rubbing his other hand along your back. “There you go. You’re all right, I’ve got you. Yeah?”

Weakly, you nod. “I’m…I’m sorry. I just…I—”

“Shh.” He kisses your nose. “You’re okay, Tink. I know.”

A long moment passes before you finally feel in control of your own heart again and once you blink the fog from your eye, you see him. Delicate and strong at the same time.

He sweeps his thumb along your lip. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you admit. “Really, I just…I needed to feel you. And I wanted to…move on, I guess. Think about something else. Lose myself for a bit.”

He sighs but nods his understanding. “You could have told me that.”

“I know. I guess I’m just not used to sharing things with you.”

“I know,” he echoes with a small grin. “But we’ll learn, yeah?”

Your gaze grows suspicious. “And why would we do that?”

“Because,” he says simply. “If we’re gonna make a bunch of hot, smart babies one day, we’re gonna have to communicate.”

You snort. “Yeah, well, that won’t be for a while.”

“Fine. Just gives us more time to practice.”

Your eyes narrow. “You really have gone soft on me, haven’t you? All because you thought I was pregnant."

He laughs, fingers slipping around the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss. “I’d argue I’m actually quite hard right now.”

“Ha. Funny.”

“I can hate you and like you at the same time, right?” he teases. “Because I think that’s my sweet spot. Wanting to kill you and fuck you all at once.”

“Agreed. You’re insufferable but you’re also one of my favorite people. Which only makes you more insufferable.”

“Yeah.” He smiles. “I think we earned a little civility, no?”

You nod and take his lip between your teeth. “And I think we should celebrate with an orgasm.”

He laughs again. “I suppose that’s only fair.”

You dance your kisses down his chest, enjoying the way his head drops back while he sighs at the feel of your tongue. He’s so beautiful and so good and if you’re going to lose yourself, you want to lose yourself in him.

Leaning back, brace your hands behind you on his knees, and start to bounce yourself on his cock. Over and over, faster and faster, until he’s grabbing onto your hips and giving them a firm, encouraging squeeze to help you along.

Your tits bounce right in his face, and he takes advantage of his front row seat, allowing his hands to trace and tease your nipples as you whine. He sucks them into his mouth and pulls them with his teeth. It sends chills along your spine and goosebumps along your arms and when he notices, he smirks.

 Not even a minute later, he’s pulling you down so your chest meets his. His hands land on your ass with a firm grip and he drags you along his cock. Slow and sensual until your eyes flutter shut, and you disappear into the building pleasure.

You feel his kisses on your ribcage as he begins to thrust up into you. Returning to the pace you previously set until you’re both chasing that familiar high. 

“There you go,” he praises through gritted teeth. “Fuck yeah, just like that—”

“Harry,” you mewl, fingers tangling in his hair. “Shit, please—”

“I know.” He leaves another kiss to the inside of your arm before he smacks your left ass cheek. “I got you, Princess. S’okay. Keep going.”

You grind yourself over his lap, knees hugging his waist as you bury yourself in the crook of his neck. Needy. Anxious. You match each other’s rhythm and it’s a dance. An effortless fluidity that brings you closer than ever before.

Then, he sucks two fingers into your mouth, and moves them between your cheeks. He grazes them over your tighter hole, gently teasing them over the other entrance before dropping them down to where his cock is fucking into your cunt. He plays with you a bit, pushing you just a bit closer while you wail—depraved—and beg for more.

“My good girl,” he praises. He spanks you again. “Fuck—that’s it, baby.”

Your staccato whimpers are consistent now. One for every thrust and you can almost taste his desperation as he turns his head in order to kiss your cheek. The sound of skin against skin is crude and delicious. The way your body slides against his. Like butter on a hot day, melting together.

He goes faster, pulls you harder. Fingers digging into your skin so hard it almost hurts. But in the best possible way. In turn, you brace yourself with a palm on his throat. Squeezing it tight as you start to get closer. 

“Yeah,” he groans. “Shit…harder—”

You obey, pinching the sides of his neck until his eyes roll back. 

You can feel his heart racing against yours. You’re both warm. Hot. Shaking. A tangled mess of limps and depraved grinding like animals in heat.

“M’almost…m’almost there,” you whisper.

He nods, looking down your body to watch the way your ass bounces in his hands. “Go. S’okay, go. Let me feel you.”

He leaves more kisses to your side and the tender way his lips feel against your skin makes your brain go fuzzy. 

You grip his throat a bit tighter and just like that…it’s over.

The two of you cum together, the room filling with moans and gasps and promises. He settles beneath you while you ride out the rest of your high but he makes sure to keep his arm around you through every second.

Once you finally catch your breath, he hums. “God-fucking-damn.”

You grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He turns to see you. “I think I’m pregnant.”

You roll your eyes with a swat to his chest but you’re laughing. “You’re so annoying.”

“And yet you still like me.”

“I never said that.”

“You said I’m your favorite person.”

“Yeah, well, I lied.”

“Right.” He helps you ease him out before he’s flipping you around and moving himself between your legs.   

You blink. “What the hell are you doing?”

He lifts two fingers and eases them along your swollen pussy. Collecting the white, sticky substance already leaking out before easily pushing it back in.

“Harry,” you scold. “I think we’ve had enough breeding for one day.”

He smirks. “Relax, Tink, m’not breeding you. I just…like to see it drip out.”

Your heart leaps. “…oh.”

“Yeah.” He rests his cheek against the inside of your thigh in order to watch. “S’always so fucking pretty.”

You reach down and card your fingers through his sweaty curls. Happy and content for the first time in days.

He looks up. “One day,” he promises, even though it sounds more like a question.

But somehow, in this moment, it makes everything else worth it.

You grin.

“One day.”

AAA I can’t believe we finally did it!! I’m not gonna lie them being soft with each other is gross 😭 BUT ALSO CUTE!! YAY PROGRESS!!

Thank you so much for reading and for always being so nice!! 🥹💞💞 and of course thank you for the amazing idea hehe

Also, if you see any mistakes……no you don’t 🫶

~  Full 404 Masterlist

Taglist:

@littlenatilda @prettythingsworld @heartateasee @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @monicaalexandraaa

@cinnamonone @triski73 @lemoncrushh @vamprry @lady-lamb21

@lillefroe @kirstiea05 @ribbonknives @lunaharrygurl @harringtonhundreds

@babyyhoneyyy @swiftmendeshoran @sundresstyles @eldahae @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs

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@lovrave @nuggetdean @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @babegoals @lc-fics

[firewasabeast]

crashing that helicopter is out, having a ridiculous conversation in the helicopter is in! Also, I know what they're doing is all very vague, but it's all I've got, okay?!

“You ready?”

“Ready.”

“You can back out, you know? I can go by m-”

“Tommy,” Buck interrupted, adjusting the mic on his helmet, “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Tommy nodded, eyebrows furrowing as he focused on getting the bird in the air. “You know,” he started once they had taken off, “before I met you, the total number of helicopters I’d stolen was zero.”

“So, you’re saying I’ve added spice to your life?” Buck asked with a smirk, glancing over at Tommy.

Tommy huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“So, um, h- how’d you get away from Harbor?”

“I flew,” Tommy deadpanned.

Buck gave him a glare. “I mean without half the station on your ass.”

“Oh, well, I offered to fuel her up and make sure she was good to go for our next call and then I just… took her.”

Buck’s eyes widened. “You just took her?”

“Mhm.” He gave Buck a quick glance, then shrugged. “It’s not like last time, Evan! I didn’t have time to make up fake orders. Plus, after last time, I don’t think they’d believe me anyway.”

“So how long do you think it’ll be before-”

“Chief Simpson to Firefighter Kinard, over,” the chief’s voice rang out over the radio.

Tommy winced. “Chief Simpson, this is Kinard.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re doing this time, or why the hell you’re doing it, but you better think long and hard before you keep going, Kinard.”

“Sir, there are circumstances beyond my control that-”

“No! This isn’t just me. I’ve already been contacted by the damn FBI and the army. You’re in for way more than a slap on the wrist. You can’t fake-mouth static your way out of this one, Kinard. This isn’t a rescue mission in the middle of the ocean. This is-”

Before he could finish, Tommy cut him off by switching their channel.

Buck eyed him, an instant wave of regret washing over him. “Tommy-”

“Don’t, Evan.” He shook his head. “It’s fine. I really thought he bought the mouth static this whole time.”

“You…” Buck felt a tightness in his chest. “You could get fired.”

“I think you mean we could get fired.”

“But you’re the one flying, Tommy, and I asked you to do it. I asked you to steal a helicopter and you didn’t even question it! I mean, wh- what the hell?”

“Technically, I did question it a little bit.”

“You asked me where to meet and at what time! I- I- the chief is right, Tommy, this is different from before. This is directly going against orders not just from the fire department, but from the FBI an- and the army! The army, Tommy!”

“Okay!” Tommy exclaimed, his focus on flying never wavering. “I get it, Evan. I know the risks. I know what I signed up for. I didn’t need anymore information. You needed me, I’m here, simple as that.”

“But-”

“Evan, please just let me fly the damn thing so your team can get what they need.”

Tossing his hands up in surrender, Buck sat back in his seat. He couldn’t keep quiet for long though and, within a few seconds, he was starting again. “I didn’t mean it, what I said that morning in the kitchen.”

“Evan.”

“No, Tommy, let me finish. I was upset, and I know what I said hurt you, and I’m sorry. But I- I didn’t mean it. I mean, it’s true. I- I don’t have to sleep with everyone I have feelings for, and I, well, you know my history. I didn’t have feelings for a lot of the people I slept with. I didn’t mean you though. I- I’ve been thinking about you nonstop. I’ve been baking so much the grocery store put a limit on how much sugar and flour you can buy in a day. I- the idea that you spent our whole relationship thinking that I really wanted someone else hurt me. It was only ever you, Tommy.”

“Can we just… can we talk about this some other time, Evan?”

“No,” Buck insisted. “No, w- we’re gonna talk about it right now, because you can’t run away this time.”

Tommy peered down at the thousands of feet that separated him from the ground. “Got me there,” he muttered.

“You know, it isn’t all on me,” Buck continued, irritation in his voice. “You accused me of using you for six months, like you were some sort of consolation prize.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what you insinuated.”

“Well, I didn’t mean to insinuate it like that. It- It came out wrong. I’m sorry. Let’s get your team what they need and we’ll talk later.”

“Mm," he hummed. Another few seconds went by, and then, “And another thing!”

“Oh my God.”

“You keep saying “your team” this and “your team” that, but they’re not just my team. They’re your team too, Tommy.”

“It’s different, Evan. They’re not my team anymore.”

“Oh, please! You know that once you’re part of the 118, you never really get to leave it.”

Tommy shook his head. “That wasn’t my experience there. Not the majority of the time anyway. I wasn’t there for very long with Bobby. It hadn’t become the family that it is now.”

“Yet you’re still risking your job to save them.”

“I told you, Evan. I’d do anything for you.”

Buck swallowed down the lump in his throat. He didn’t want to be distracted by Tommy’s words Not right now. “I- I… See, that’s another thing!” he started.

Tommy rolled his eyes, sighing. “Should I turn this helicopter around?”

“You keep your distance from everyone and everything, like you’re terrified of being happy. What the hell is that about, Tommy? You’re allowed to be happy.”

“Happiness doesn’t last, Evan.” The words spilled out before he had a chance to stop himself.

An array of emotions ran over Buck’s face. From hurt, to sadness, to sympathy, to confusion. “So, what, you- you’re never allowed to be happy because one day it might go away?”

Another sigh. “It just helps it hurt less when it ends.”

“Does it?” Buck questioned. “Does it really make it hurt less? Because it seemed like you were pretty hurt when you left me in my kitchen. Both times!”

“Evan, I…” Tommy paused. “I know I run from things. Especially things that scare me. Loving you scares me. Because all I can think about is losing you, and losing you would kill me. I’m sorry I ran, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. I’m sorry I doubted you. But it didn’t have to do with you, not really. It’s me. I- It’s me.”

Buck stared at Tommy, mouth hanging open, eyebrows furrowed. “L- Loving me scares you?”

“What?”

“You, Tommy, you said that loving me scares you. You love me?”

“I…” Tommy was sweating. He was sweating and he was panicking and his heart was racing. He’d been to war. He’d flown through treacherous conditions. He was in the middle of commandeering a helicopter for the second time in his life. He’d stayed calm and cool through all of that. But now… now he was sweating. “I didn’t mean to-”

“I- I don’t care if you meant to say it, you did say it. You love me?”

“Evan," he breathed out, resigned. “I- yes. It… Yes, I do. I love-” he stopped mid-sentence, eyes darting to the side. “They found us.”

Buck sat up straighter, watching as military and FBI choppers surrounded them. “So they bought it?”

“Well, I’m guessing they’re not guiding us to an impromptu medal ceremony.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“We’re close to the stadium. That’s probably where they’re leading us anyway. We’ll land there.”

“And then?”

“And then hopefully they won’t shoot us on the spot.”

Buck shot him a look. “You really should’ve become a doctor with your fabulous bedside manner.”

Instead of whipping out a retort, Tommy focused on safely getting them to the stadium. With the other helicopters swirling around them, Tommy landed them in the field.

“Did you hear from Athena?” he asked.

Buck checked his phone, showing Tommy her message. A simple thumbs up that told them everything they needed to know. “She made it,” he confirmed.

“And you’ve got the copy at your feet still, right?”

“Karen got me an identical container and everything. They’ll think it’s the real stuff until they test it.”

Tommy nodded, taking a deep breath before flicking a few more switches. “Time to go then. Leave the container there, they might think it’s a weapon. Put your hands up as we exit, and do whatever they yell at us.”

“Okay. Okay, yeah.” Buck glared against the lights that were shining directly at them. He could barely make out all the FBI agents, military personnel, and weapons. “Tommy, I… I love you too, by the way. I- I think we still, um, have stuff to talk about, but I want you to know that.”

Tommy smiled, ignoring the call coming over a megaphone for them to exit the helicopter. “I think we’ll have plenty of time to discuss it from our prison cell.”

“You think they’ll let us share?”

“Maybe if we ask nicely.” Tommy reached over, giving Buck’s hand a quick squeeze. “You ready?”

Buck nodded, squeezing back. “Ready.”

[bruisedboys]

congressman!bucky barnes x shy!reader

bucky flirts with his shy secretary (fem!reader)

“You look busy.”

You jump and look up from your computer to find Bucky standing in your doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. You don’t know how long he’s been standing there — you haven’t looked up from your screen in what’s felt like hours.

“Don’t scare me like that,” you say, hand to your racing heart. You’re not sure if it’s racing because he’s startled you, or just because of him in general.

Bucky laughs. You’d be offended, but his smile is so fond you can’t find it in you.

“Sorry, doll, I didn’t mean to,” he says.

He pushes himself off the doorframe and starts to move towards your desk. When he reaches you, he leans over your desk, knuckles pressed to the wooden surface. You try not to look at his arms, where his shirt sleeves are rolled halfway up his forearms. His vibranium arm glints at you, like its asking to be looked at.

“What’re you so busy working on?” He asks smoothly, leaning towards you a bit.

You feel the tips of your ears go red hot. He’s almost intrusively tall, and broad. To have him in your space like this scares you, but in a good way. If that’s even possible.

“I, um. I’m just editing that transcript you sent me,” you say lamely.

His brow creases. “I thought I told you it could wait til next week?”

Warmth creeps up your neck and threatens to engulf your whole face. He did, in fact, tell you to wait until next week to start editing it. You ignored his request, because you like doing things for him and you know he’s got a lot on his plate these days. Whatever you can do to help, you’ll do it. You are his secretary, after all.

“I know,” you say, with as much defensiveness as you can muster, which isn’t much. “I thought I’d get a head start.”

Bucky frowns at you, “You don’t need to do that. You’re working yourself to the bone, honey.”

You go hot all over. He says honey like he doesn’t mean to, as if it just slips out like it’s meant for you.

”Sorry,” you manage to reply weakly.

Bucky leans back and out of your space, but he still towers over you, still takes up all the space in your mind. His arms flex as he crosses them over his chest.

“That’s okay,” he says kindly. “Save the rest for next week, alright? You’ve got enough to do already.”

It’s not true. You don't have much to do at all. It’s Friday afternoon, and you’ve all but finished your tasks for the day. You’d have gone home, but you like being around Bucky too much. Not that you’d ever admit that to him.

Still, you nod. “Okay,” you agree, mostly because he’s impossible to say no to.

Bucky grins, “Good girl.”

Your brain short circuits. You wonder for a second if you’re dreaming. But no, you can feel the pinch of your nails in the palm of your hand as you clench your fist in your lap.

Meanwhile, Bucky’s moving around your desk like he has no idea the effect his words have just had on you. You’re pretty sure he has a bit of an idea, at least. You’re not very good at hiding how you feel.

“Hey, do you want to take a break?“ He asks, moving to stand over you, his hand coming to rest over the back of your chair. “Get lunch with me?”

You feel frozen in place. Somehow you manage to get your limbs to move, though they feel heavy as rocks. You twist in your chair so you can look up at him. He’s so close, his hand on the back of your chair as he smiles down at you expectantly, all sorts of handsome. You try your best to ignore the muscle of his arm so near your face.

“I— um, yeah, okay,” you say, breathless. You’ve no idea how you’re going to survive lunch with him if you’re already this far gone, but you can’t back out now.

Bucky’s grin widens. “Okay. What do you feel like eating? We can get whatever you want, doll.”

What you want is for him to kiss you, or maybe hold your face in his big, warm hand. You settle for Chinese.

-

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if you enjoyed 🤍

[nakoyaps]

unattractive

kenma kozume x fem! reader

kenma definitely isn’t the type of guy to take you out to big restaurats for dates— not that you’re asking him to; if anything you’re both happier spending one on one time at home.

though, to the conventional people in relationships this is a total no-no.

“seriously, y/n? he’s like a millionaire and he can’t spare a few hundred to go out on a date every once and a while? talk about stingy..” your friend, aiya nagged.

she’s always been materialistic if you’re being honest, you don’t even know why you still keep up with her. three whole years of friendship and you swear all you remember is “oh my god, i heard he’s rich!” “ugh, i dumped him— can you believe that he’s only an office worker?”

money is important, yes. you definitely agree on that. but, no one’s worth is solely based on how much they make or how much they spend.

“can you not talk about kenma like that? he’s just not the type that likes to go out.. and to be honest, neither am i.” you murmur, avoiding eye contact with her.

aiya raises a brow, an idea entering her pea brained mind “you seriously think a man with that much money ‘doesn’t like to go out’?”

“he’s so obviously an introvert, aiya.”

“he’s probably just hiding you away from the public cause he’s embarrassed. no offense..” aiya spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, an mildly exceptionally sickening smirk on her pretty pink lips.

“embarrassed— of what?”

“isn’t it obvious?” she asked, motioning to your physique.

“what the fuck, aiya? that’s my boyfriend we’re talking about.” you started to get agitated, raising your voice.

“well geez, no need to get all mad..” she chuckles, “he just doesn’t look like the type to be loyal, that’s all. plus, he’d look better with someone that’s more.. good looking? i’m not calling you ugly or anything, just.. you’re unconventionally beautiful.”

𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆

“fake ass bitch..” you grumble, slamming the door behind you as you flopped on your couch.

kenma appeared from around the corner, looking concerned. “you okay?”

his eyes softened seeing your sour expression, sitting down beside you.

“aiya keeps saying shit about you..”

“so what? people talk shit all the time.”

you roll your eyes, “she keeps saying you’re not good for me, you’d be better off with someone ‘conventionally attractive’ or whatever she’s talking about.”

“that’s not true” he strokes your hair.

“am i not good enough?”

“you are.”

you frown. this was a common reoccurrence and you know you’d get another scolding if you said what you were about to, but.. you only live once, right?

“why’d you choose me anyways? i’m sure lots of your gamer friends are pretty girls too..”

he raised a brow, shutting her eyes with his hands “if you can’t see how pretty you are, don’t even try looking at anything else.”

“i’m serious, kenma!”

“none of them are you. i didn’t just fall in love with your looks— sure they played a big part, but your personality really sealed the deal.”

“that’s what people say when they think their partner’s ugly.”

“you’re not gonna believe me anyways, so..” kenma chuckles, “but seriously, you’re gorgeous. you don’t have to listen to whatever she says just ‘cuz she’s your friend. plus, i keep telling you to stop hanging out with her anyways..”

“i don’t have any other friends—“

“yeah, well she’s a bad influence on you.”

you frowned, sitting upright. face to face with kenma, you felt butterflies in your stomach.

“i still feel like i’m crushing on you sometimes. like i forget that you’re my girlfriend just cause you’re so pretty.”

“fuck off, kenma..” a faint blush dusting your cheeks.

as your eyes met, you felt yourself reaching for his lips—

sorry if kenma felt ooc!! i was listening to music and i think it took control of my writing lol. the writing was all spontaneous cuz i suddenly felt like getting back into publishing fics :p

[wonderjanga]

When Billy was a Newbie

I like to think some of these scenarios happened when Billy was first starting out as a hero.

Villain: *monologging*

Marvel: *doesn’t even let them finish and socks the shit out of them and takes them to the police department*

This happens a good twenty times until one villain has enough.

Villain: *monologging*

Marvel: *about to attack while they’re talking*

Villain: “OKAY WAIT WAIT WAIT, STOP RIGHT THERE YOU BASTARD.”

Marvel: *stops, confused*

Villain: “I know you’re new to this whole thing, but you do realize you’re supposed to let us monologue and tell you our evil plan, right?! You’re not supposed to cut us off!”

Marvel: “I’m not?”

Villain: “No!”

Marvel: “Oh. I’m sorry about that, Mx. Supervillain. I’ll let you and the other ones talk next time.”

Villain: “Wait, really?”

After this, he actually does end up letting them talk and all that.

I also think something like this would happen when he was getting used to fighting crime.

Marvel: *throws one of the big blue mail boxes at some low level, human, emphasis on human, crooks* “Oh… my bad, guys! I was a little too harsh.”

Crooks: *severely injured* “What do you mean ‘your bad’?!?????? That was a little more than harsh!”

Then, there’s the fact I think he wouldn’t care about where he’s saving people. By that I mean, Billy has a lot of free time because he doesn’t go to school. Because of this, you’ll casually see Captain Marvel in flipping Milwaukee helping some people who got into a car crash, then in Orlando helping out with a fire, then in San Jose helping someone who lost their dog. Point is, if there’s someone to help out, he’ll help. Through this, he met Superman actually. Funnily enough, it was while holding up a building.

Marvel: *holding up a building*

Supes: *flies down* “You’re Captain Marvel, right?”

Marvel: “Huh? Uh yeah?” *looks over Superman, seeing his suit and thinking he’s another hero (Billy doesn’t know most heroes because this was when the time bubble recently popped)

Supes: “You need a hand with that?”

Marvel: “Yes, please.”

Supes and Marvel: *work together to move the building to somewhere safe so it won’t hurt anyone*

Marvel: “Thanks.”

Supes: “No problem.”

*awkward silence*

Supes: “If I can ask, what brought you to Metropolis?”

Marvel: “I’m here to fight crime…?” *says like it’s super obvious*

Supes: “Wha? Don’t you have your own city?”

Marvel: “I mean, I guess. Fawcett isn’t really my city though. I just protect it.”

Supes: *blanking and trying to come up with something to say* “Captain, you can’t just go around in other hero’s cities and fight crime for them. It’s a breach of territory.”

Marvel: “It is?”

Supes: “Yes, it is. Honestly, I’m just happy you didn’t do this in Gotham. Batman would’ve been furious.”

Marvel: “Oh. Okay then… so just stick to cities that don’t have heroes?”

Supes: “Well, I guess but don’t you normally-”

Marvel: *beaming smile* “I appreciate the advice, Mr. Superman.”

Supes: “Your…welcome? Wait, what do you mean ‘stick to the cities that don’t have heroes’?”

Marvel: “Oh, well, when crimes slow and nothing’s going on in Fawcett, I kind of just fly around everywhere looking for stuff to do. Just the other day I helped these two old, farmer people, husband and wife, lift their tractor out of some mud.”

Supes: *a little astounded he has that much time on his hands* “Really? Where was that?”

Marvel: “Kansas. I think the town they lived in was Smallville or something?”

Supes: *nearly shits himself* “Ah… I see.”

Then there was the time he met a random Green Lantern. He had no idea what the Lantern Corp were, but any information Solomon gave him made them sound cool though. But you want to know the worst part of this interaction? The Lantern was trying to give Marvel a ring.

Random GL (RGL): *talking about how he wanted to give Billy the ring and yadayadayada*

Marvel: *not even listening due to the Gods talking a whole lot*

Mercury: “BILLY STEAL THE RING!”

Marvel: *saying this out loud* “What? What ring?”

RGL: *confused, says something Billy isn’t paying attention to*

Mercury: “THE RING ON HIS FINGER. KEEP UP WITH THE PROGRAM.”

Marvel: *still talking out loud* “Oh okay okay… how do I do that?”

Solomon: “You are supposed to use your will.”

Marvel: “Huh? Solomon there’s no way that’ll wor…” *trails off as he wills the ring off the lantern’s finger* “I take back what I said.”

RGL: *starts to fall*

Marvel: “Holy moly!” *rushes down to catch him*

RGL: “Earthling what the hell is wrong with you?! Why would you do that??!?”

Marvel: “I’m sorry! The voices has told me to.” *gives them back their ring*

RGL: *flies off grumbling how he’s a psychopath*

Then there was when Marvel joined the Justice League. When he got the communicator, he put it in his pocket dimension and promptly forgot about it.

Marvel: “The Justice League hasn’t contacted me. I wonder if I’ve done something wrong…”

Meanwhile…

Batman: “This is like the third meeting he’s missed, Clark.”

Supes: “I know, I know! I’m sorry! He didn’t seem like the type to skip out on meetings. He talked like he had a bunch of free time.”

WW: “You should go talk to him. You are the one who invited him.”

Supes: *sighs* “I will.”

Back in Fawcett…

Marvel: *helping a cat down from a tree*

Supes: *flies down when he sees him* “Captain! Can we talk?”

Marvel: *hands cat back to its owner* “Mr. Superman. Of course! I’ve actually had something I’ve been meaning to talk about with you too.”

Supes: “Right, well I guess I’ll cut straight to the point. Is there a reason you haven’t shown up to the last meetings?”

Marvel: *stares at him with the most confused face* “Meetings?”

Supes: *confused at Billy’s confusion* “Yes? You get notified on your comm about them.”

Marvel: “Comm… Comm?” *thinking face before recognition flits across his face* “Wait, this thing?” *reaches hand into pocket dimension and pulls out his JL comm*

Supes: *slightly horrified when he saw his arm disappear for a moment* “Yeah. That.”

Marvel: *taps comm and sees over 45 unread notifications* “Oh.”

Supes: *wondering how in the world Marvel never checked his comm* “Oh indeed.”

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

What remains of us, pt. 2

Summary: Wally spends the next month being an emotional crutch for Y/N, helping her to acclimate to the spirit world. In his attempts to cheer her up, he blatantly flirts with her and while she pretends it's not getting to her, it's getting harder to deny the way he makes her feel.

Warnings: death, angst, mentions of mental health issues, fluff, SCHOOL SHOOTING, swearing

Word count: 2.9k

Part 1

Y/N never thought the pain inside her would persist in the afterlife. She hoped it would be out of reach, gone with the life she lost too soon. Somehow, the nights she stayed awake became more painful now. At least when she was still alive there was a chance of falling asleep and allowing everything to fade away, but now? It’s impossible to escape.

She’s hounded by her anxious thoughts, wondering how her family is doing after her tragedy. Would this break her mother who pushed her into medicine in the first place? Would her father’s health take a turn for the worse now that his doctor daughter isn’t there to remind him to take his medication on time? Would her sister speak at the funeral after the fight they had a few days before she died? Would her nieces remember her, or would time erase all the ways she loved them?

Loves…she still loves them all. Death can’t take those emotions away.

Drawing in a deep breath, she closes her eyes.  Resting her chin on her knees, she exhales slowly. It wouldn’t do her any good to panic now. She’s dead. While she doesn’t remember the last moments of her life perfectly, she’s aware what killed her. Dwelling on it will only make it worse.

Swallowing thickly, she glances at Wally. He’s been respectful, keeping his distance the past week, but he’s remained fairly close the entire time. She’s been awful to him, barely exchanging a few words here and there, but he’s been very patient and she can’t help the way her chest tightens at the sight of him. It’s comforting not to be alone in this, as well as terrifying. If he’s been dead for forty-two years and still haunts his death place, is that her fate? Will she spend an eternity with Wally in this God-forsaken place?

Well, not only Wally. He’s introduced her to the looping band, Yuri in the art room, Mina the theatre kid, and Xavier Baxter who stayed in the library. There were others, but according to Wally, they mainly kept to themselves and didn’t interact with anyone. A similar idea simmered in her brain, but every time she’d see Wally’s eyes light up around her she knew taking a step back would hurt him. Every time she asks for alone time she sees the flicker of hurt and perhaps a little bit of panic cross his handsome features. Pulling away entirely would definitely do some damage, so she allows him to dwell close enough for them to reach out and touch. There are plenty of ghosts around this school, but something tells her Wally is lonely.  

Wetting her lips, she sighs. “What were your plans after high school?”

Wally perks up. “I had a scholarship,” he moves closer to her. “I was planning on going pro…I wasn’t the brightest student”, he admits. “I’m not sure what I’d choose to study.”

“Did you have lots of friends?”

Grinning, he nods. “Yeah. I see some of them occasionally”, he shrugs meekly. “A few still come to games, mainly because they want to relive their glory days. But most of them stopped coming when their kids graduated.”

“I’m sorry”, she says quietly.

His eyebrows furrow. “What for?”

Pursing her lips, she clasps her hands. Looking ahead, she sighs. “For what happened to you. You had your whole life ahead of you and instead of living it to the fullest, you’re watching the world move on.”

“I guess we have that in common”, Wally reaches out, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. “I wasn’t alone in this. I won’t let you be alone either.”

“You keep saying that”, she raises a brow. Standing, she watches Wally do the same.

Y/N blinks at the boy standing in front of her, his arms crossed over the faded lettering of a varsity football jacket. She can’t help but feel he’s keeping secrets, and when he brushes her chin with his thumb, grinning, she rejects the thought. Wally wouldn’t do that to her. She hasn’t known him for long, but she knows enough to trust him.

Biting her lower lip, her gaze falls to his lips as his smile turns into a teasing smirk. He’s tall, and his touch so invitingly warm and she has to remind herself to keep her hands steady because the last thing she needs is to develop a crush on a fellow ghost…Yet she wishes to embrace him, to be in his arms as she was the day she died. If she were to reach for him, would he let her melt into his arms? Part of her is scared she’d just phase through him, the way she did with the policeman, but if they could touch before and she felt his thumb on her chin, maybe hugging him whenever she wants is a possibility? He looks solid, too solid for someone who’s supposed to be dead. Then again, so is she. They’re made of the same material now, residing in the same plane of existence.

Sensing her mood, Wally didn’t want to risk her falling back into the silence he endured daily. He needs her to talk to him before he falls back into his own existential crisis.

“So,” he says, rocking back on his heels. “Not to be dramatic, but I think you might be my soulmate.”

She scoffs. “Excuse me?”

He gestures between them, grinning. “Come on, you’re new here. You’re dead. I’m dead. I’d say we were dying to meet each other, but…” He spreads his arms. “Bit late for that.”

Y/N gapes at him. “Oh my God.”

“I know, right? Super tragic. A life cut short in my prime. The world was robbed of my athletic greatness.” He sighs dramatically, tilting his head to the side. “Not to brag, but I was kind of a big deal.”

“Oh, I bet you were.” She folds her arms, eyeing him up and down. “Split River’s star quarterback, huh? You reek of jock energy.”

He gasps, clutching his chest as if she’s physically wounded him. “Whoa. Harsh. You don’t even know me, and you’re already assuming things? I feel so objectified.”

She arches a brow. “You’re wearing a letterman jacket inside a school. It’s practically a uniform for guys like you.”

Wally’s lips twitch like he’s trying not to laugh. Instead, he takes a slow, measured step toward her, gaze flicking over her skeptically. “And what exactly is ‘a guy like me’?”

Y/N smirks, playing along. “Cocky. Talks before he thinks. Probably spent more time flirting than studying.” She taps her chin, pretending to think. “Let me guess….your best subject? P.E.”

He groans, tilting his head back in exaggerated offense. “Wow. Okay. First of all, rude. Second, I’ll have you know I was decent at history. And third—” He suddenly drops to one knee, placing a dramatic hand over his heart. “If being a cliché means meeting you, then I accept my fate.”

Y/N blinks. “Are you seriously fake-swooning right now?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Wally grins up at her, looking far too pleased with himself. “It’s called committing to the bit.”

She narrows her eyes. “I’m going to regret talking to you, aren’t I?”

“Nah.” He stands back up, brushing off his jacket. “I grow on people. Like an endearing ghost fungus.”

She wrinkles her nose. “That’s disgusting.”

“You’re smiling, though.” He nudges her shoulder, cocky but harmless. “Admit it. You think I’m funny.”

She rolls her eyes, but a small laugh escapes before she can stop it. Damn it.

Wally grins wider, tapping the side of his nose like he’s figured her out. “Called it.”

Y/N exhales sharply, shaking her head. “If we’re stuck here together, I will find a way to haunt you specifically.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, slinging an arm over her shoulder with infuriating ease. “I look forward to it.”

The week drags by in quiet stillness. With the school closed, the world outside feels distant, like it doesn’t belong to them anymore. Maybe it doesn’t.

It’s the perfect time for Wally to show Y/N the ropes, to teach her the strange rules of their existence. But mostly, it’s just nice to have the place to themselves before the students return, filling the halls with a life they can never be part of again.

Wally doesn’t mind the solitude. He’s had decades to get used to it. What surprises him is how much he likes having her here.

More often than not, whenever he loses sight of Y/N, he knows exactly where to find her. She always goes back to the hallway.

She’d lay where her heart stopped beating, staring at the ceiling as if it held answers neither of them knew the questions to. He doesn’t understand why she keeps returning to the scene of the crime. Maybe he doesn’t have to. Maybe it’s just something she needs to do.

So he stays.

Tonight is no different. Wally rounds the corner, hands in his pockets, and spots her there again, motionless, her gaze distant. He lingers in the doorway, watching. The way the dim light filters through the old glass windows makes her look softer, almost alive.

Then she moves.

Y/N sits up slowly, rubbing her arms as a shiver racks through her. She exhales, breath shaky, running her hands up and down the length of her sleeves.

Wally frowns. “Hey, are you okay?”

She startles a little but doesn’t look at him right away. “Yeah. Just… cold.”

He hesitates. “You know we don’t get cold, right?”

Y/N lets out a quiet laugh. “I know. It’s just…” She trails off, sighing as she wraps her arms around her knees. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just my brain trying to hold on to something human.”

That makes sense, he supposes. After all, she’s still new to this, new to the way her body remembers things it no longer has to.

Without thinking, Wally shrugs off his letterman jacket. It’s second nature, something he’d done a hundred times for a girl on the bleachers or a teammate on the sidelines. But this time, it feels different. He steps closer and drapes it over her shoulders.

Y/N stills. Her fingers clutch at the fabric, eyes flicking to his in surprise. “You…what are you doing?”

Wally shrugs, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. “What’s it look like? I’m being chivalrous.”

Her lips twitch. “You do realize this won’t actually warm me up, right?”

He smirks, shrugging again. “Humor me.”

Y/N studies him for a moment before glancing down at the jacket. She tugs it tighter around herself. It’s big on her. The sleeves hang past her hands, and his scent, while faint, lingers like something permanent.

If his heart was still beating, there’s no doubt in his mind it would be skipping a few beats now. His jacket looks perfect on her. She looks perfect.

Y/N glances up, watching him carefully. “Is this some kind of jock instinct? Lending your jacket to a girl so she falls hopelessly in love with you?”

Wally grins. “Is it working?”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but her fingers tighten on the fabric. She doesn’t give it back.

He doesn’t ask for it.

Instead, he just sits beside her, shoulder to shoulder, watching the ceiling with her like maybe, if they wait long enough, they’ll finally see something that makes sense.

“I think I’m ready to lose the scrubs”, she says quietly as if it pains her.

Nodding, Wally holds out his hand for her to take. “Let’s go find something you can change into.”

Even with the new outfit, Y/N kept the jacket. 

During days, he watched her from a distance. She often chose to attend classes, watch the living. There was an increased police presence now, something she followed closely. Something about it all kept Y/N on her toes, and while he wanted to ask about it, Wally knew it would be better to let her come to him.

During nights, Y/N would lean her head on Wally’s shoulder, holding his jacket closer to her chest. She’d stare ahead, asking about his family from time to time. She asked about his family home, about his friends and their misadventures and he answered all in as much detail as he could recall. It’s been too long since he thought about his life, after all, he’s been dead for longer than he lived.

“Were there any other hobbies other than football?”

Gasping, he places a hand over his chest. “Football is life, not a hobby. Oh, you wound me when you say things like that!”

Chuckling, she shakes her head. If there’s anything she’s certain about, it’s Wally’s flare for drama and she can’t get enough.

“I apologize, Mr. Quarterback! Please, oh, please accept me in your good graces once more!”

Suppressing a smile, Wally watches her match his energy and he can’t help the blush spreading across his cheeks. He could get used to her…to this being his life.

“Very well, m’lady. I shall forgive theeee, but only if you come with me.”

Furrowing her brows, she narrows her eyes at him. “If I was alive, I’d be questioning if you’re luring me somewhere to kill me.”

“Who says I’m not?”

Clicking her tongue, she scoffs. “You play too much!”

Following his retreating figure, she frowns. His words sent a chill down her spine, one she couldn’t quite explain. She never felt unsafe around him before, never once questioned his motives, but now? Something was telling her to be careful.

Wally’s been around for a lot longer than Y/N…there’s no telling what he knows or what he is capable of.

He wouldn’t hurt her, would he?

Shaking her head, she pauses for a second.

Realizing she stopped, Wally glances at her over his shoulder, sending her a reassuring smile that makes her stomach flip – in a good way.

He wouldn’t hurt her, she decides. Wally is a friend and she really needs a friend right now.

Stopping in front of a room, she holds her breath as he turns on the lights.

The music room is exactly as he remembers it. Dusty, but not forgotten. A relic of the past tucked away in a corner of the school no one really pays attention to.

He steps inside first, leading her past the rows of chairs to the instrument-lined walls. His fingers trail over the edge of a piano, the metal of a trumpet, before finally stopping at what he came for.

A guitar.

Y/N crosses her arms, watching as he pulls it down and settles onto a stool.

“So this is your big secret?”

Wally runs his fingers along the strings, testing them. “What, disappointed?”

“Not really.” She shrugs, but there’s something playful in her tone. “I just should’ve known you’d be this kind of guy.”

He raises a brow. “What kind of guy?”

“The oh look, I play guitar, aren’t I mysterious and deep kind.”

Wally snorts. “Wow. That’s the energy I give off?”

She tilts her head. “Tell me honestly, how many girls did you do this for?”

Wally pretends to think. “Hmm. Only the cute ones.”

Y/N groans, rolling her eyes. “Unbelievable.”

He grins, strumming the first few chords of a song before she can argue. The sound is soft, familiar—something tucked away in his memory from years ago.

It takes her a second, but recognition flickers across her face. “Is this REO Speedwagon?”

Wally smirks. “You know it?”

“I mean, yeah. My mom liked them.” She narrows her eyes. “You’re seriously playing Can’t Fight This Feeling at me right now?”

“Why not?” He plucks the next notes with ease, settling into the rhythm. “It’s a classic.”

“It’s a romantic classic,” she points out.

He grins. “You saying you’re swooning?”

“I’m saying you’ve definitely pulled this move before.” She leans against the piano, arms crossed. “Be honest. This was your go-to seduction tactic, wasn’t it?”

Wally sighs dramatically. “You caught me.”

“I knew it.”

“In my defense,” he continues, fingers still moving over the strings, “it worked.”

Y/N laughs, shaking her head. “Well, I hate to break it to you, Romeo, but I’m not that easy.”

“That’s okay.” He glances up at her, his smile shifting into something softer, something real. “I don’t mind taking my time.”

Her breath catches, just slightly. Just enough.

She covers it up with an exaggerated groan, moving to sit across from him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you’re still here.”

She rolls her eyes again but doesn’t deny it. Instead, she leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she watches his fingers move.

Wally keeps playing, his voice joining the melody and she’s awestruck. There’s no denying he’s playing her heartstrings with every lyric passing his beautiful lips as he keeps watching her from beneath his lashes.

And even though she’ll never admit it, she likes this.

Likes the way the music fills the empty room, likes the way the emotions in his voice linger between them.

Maybe she is swooning…just a little.

But she’ll never let him know.

Not yet.

For now, she just lets him play.

And for the first time since she died, she lets herself stay in the moment instead of focusing on all the ways her life went wrong to lead her to the spirit world…to him.

PART 3

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Cheshire behind the cut; “Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!” (( chrono || non-chrono ))

He takes a moment to lean down and neaten Tawky’s bowtie and sweater for him to make sure he still looks like a proper gentleman, since Lynn squished him kinda hard a couple times in there and there’s the whole lack of opposable thumbs issue making it a little harder for Tawky to fix himself up, and Tawky purrs appreciatively. Normal tigers don’t actually purr, but Tawky isn’t particularly interested in being normal, he always says. And it’s super-cute, so Billy’s not gonna tell him to. Like, he wouldn’t either way, but double-definitely he isn’t gonna. 

“Do you think Lynn’ll want a bedtime story?” Billy wonders. Tawky looks thoughtful. “I know, yeah, we did get a lot of books, maybe that’d be like . . . overwhelming? To pick from, I mean? I guess I could pick out a few he could pick between, but . . . well, maybe just if he has trouble, you think?”

Tawky purrs approvingly. Billy beams at him, then neatens his fur a little more and straightens back up. He knows it’s way harder for Tawky to talk when he’s a stuffed animal, but he’s always a great listener no matter what and really pays attention. 

“Cool, yeah, I think it’s a good idea too,” he says, figuring he’ll pick some out in his head first and then just separate them from the others if Lynn needs some help narrowing things down. “Did you like the salmon? I thought it was so good, oh my god. Um–gods. I never know if I should say ‘god’ or ‘gods’, it’s not like I’m really religious or anything, you know, it’s just that I know some gods, so like–” 

“. . . are you talking to me?” Lynn asks warily from the doorway of his room, and Billy brightens reflexively and looks over to him. Lynn’s wearing a pair of dark blue pajamas with the top unbuttoned and pulled on over his T-shirt like an open jacket, which–hm, maybe Billy should tell him that it’s not really meant to be worn like a jacket? But also that seems warmer anyway and he would definitely want to be as warm and, like, cozy and stuff as he could if he’d gotten raised in a lab run by total assholes who didn’t even tell him stories, so . . . 

Also . . . well, the world is this brand-new big and scary place full of strangers and stuff he doesn’t know, so maybe Lynn feels a little safer with the “S” on, come to think. Billy, like . . . gets that idea, really. 

He definitely gets that idea. 

“Oh, no, sorry, I didn’t mean to, like, interrupt you while you were getting changed or anything,” he apologizes. “I was talking to Tawky. He’s a great listener!” 

Lynn looks at him for a long moment, then flicks his eyes down to Tawky and looks at him for a long moment. 

“. . . right,” Lynn says slowly, just barely raising an eyebrow. “Uh. I . . . bet, yeah.” 

Billy beams at him. He’s just so glad Lynn and Tawky like each other. Or like . . . have a good impression of each other, at least? Like–that’s really great, that they like each other. 

“Definitely!” he agrees cheerfully. “Do you like the pajamas? Like, they’re not scratchy or anything, right?” 

“. . . they’re linen,” Lynn says. 

“. . . um?” Billy says, wrinkling his nose in confusion. Linen? That sounds, like . . . kinda expensive, maybe? Is linen actually expensive or does Solomon just think it is ‘cuz he’s from like a few thousand years ago? ‘Cuz Solomon has opinions about purple dye. And black dye. And, like–cinnamon and stuff like that. “. . . I think Batman maybe has a shopping problem.” 

Lynn looks down at his sleeve and eyes the cuff of it skeptically. 

“The tag said ‘Frette’,” he says. “Is that a brand or something?” 

. . . Billy pulls his new phone out and just . . . googles that, real quick. 

. . . . . . Billy puts his phone back and decides to never google anything ever again. 

“I think Batman definitely has a shopping problem,” he says, still feeling a little lightheaded from the price listings he saw. 

Um. Maybe he wants to sit down for a sec, actually. Or, uh . . . a minute. Or so. 

“Does Batman buy everything?” Lynn asks, looking skeptical again. 

“Well, the Justice League paid for everything, we’ve got like, grants and donations and stuff, but Batman was the one who made me fill out a requisition form and did all the ordering and everything and picked out the apartment,” Billy says with a shrug. “I didn’t really know what to ask for, though. Like–the windows, but not all that much else, really. Oh, and comfy furniture and a big enough kitchen for both of us. And the beanbag chairs ‘cuz those are cool and I thought maybe you’d think they were cool too? Though I didn’t know the apartment was gonna be this big, I just wanted us to be able to eat in there and stuff. Like, um–you know, dinner and all. Meals.” 

“‘Meals’?” Lynn repeats, his eyebrows just barely furrowing, and Billy feels kind of embarrassed to outright say it, but also he doesn’t wanna, like . . . not say it, so . . . 

“Like family meals?” he says. He kinda said it before, but he also kinda just phrased it as “hanging out” at the time, he thinks. Well, they were about five minutes into knowing each other, so yeah, that’d felt less . . . presumptive, he guesses he’d thought? “I just think it’s better to, um, have those. Like, at least when we can and stuff.” 

“. . . oh,” Lynn says. 

“Do you wanna pick out a book for bed?” Billy suggests. Lynn stares blankly at him for, um . . . yeah, Billy’s definitely lost count of how many times Lynn’s stared blankly at him. Well, Lynn just kinda does that, it seems like, so yeah. 

“A book,” Lynn says. 

“I mean, we got so many,” Billy says. “And it’s easier to go to sleep if, um, you wind down a little bit first? And reading’s usually good for that, y’know?” 

“. . . sure,” Lynn says, still staring blankly at him. 

“I mean, you don’t have to,” Billy says sheepishly. His parents did it for him, so . . . “Just I thought maybe it’d help?” 

Lynn stares at him some more. Billy smiles as encouragingly as he can at him. Lynn, um . . . stares some more. 

Yeah, he definitely just does that, Billy thinks. 

[colourstreakgryffin]

I was wondering if you can do Alastor x daughter! Reader? She’s manifested from his magic and because of that she has some of Alastor’s powers. However, she’s the complete and total opposite of him. She’s kind and sweet like Charlie, but is very shy. She never likes bringing out her true demon form for she is very terrifying. Alastor is very protective of her. Although, what if she sees Alastor get hurt by another overlord or Adam and he turns into her demon form to protect him and everyone is surprised by this and maybe even terrified of her.

OMFG. Yes! Second Alastor request in a rooowww! I love this man uncontrollably and he would be a good daddy. He’s a stag papa with his little fawn for reaaall! I love this idea, lots of loves and so much thanks for giving Hazbin Hotel more attention— or, I guess Alastor!

Father! Alastor- Hell’s Angel

Okay… Alastor wasn’t suspecting to pop a kid out of thin air when he actually wanted to pop a kid out of thin air. His magic is very powerful, no doubt but he birthed a child from solely his own powers and about 100% of his own DNA so his daughter’s features are primarily matching his own but there are some personal key differences Alastor wanted you to have to seperate yourself from him

So, you’re not a carbon copy of your dad, the Radio Demon. More just have the same deer features and red colouring

Alastor also wasn’t suspecting to have born an angel of his own. Sweet, affectionate, cheery, always smiling but smiling in a more welcoming and natural manner than her papa. He doesn’t mind it, you’re his babygirl. He loves you dearly, even after he just shat you out from literally nothing. He’s just surprised!

Well, at least Charlie loves you because you’re like… exactly what she loves and Alastor gets jealous of how well Charlie bonds with his own daughter!

Alastor has never known how to handle his own powers so when you begin manifesting voodoo dolls and portals containing all kinds of demonic beasts, he has to figure out how to get around all of it without hurting. He has a whole plan scheduled for anytime your powers trigger

Alastor’s protective, loving, clingy and carries you around a lot. He loves being able to bond with you, he likes hearing your cute deer noises when you’re trying to talk to him. He never lets you leave his sight and whilst he reframes from murder, he may just kill Vox for insulting his little fawn

Alastor now has all the full right to tell awful Dad jokes, since he is a proper Dad now. Rest in peace once again, Angel Dust

Yes. Alastor is the type to spoil his daughter. Spoil rotten, he isn’t going to stop and he isn’t sorry. He loves his little princess and no matter what, he’ll give her what she wants. If anybody dares to take what she wants from her, he’ll send them to double hell then give his babygirl extra hugs and kisses as apologises

Alastor knows, like him, you have your own full demon form and for a harmless sweetheart like yourself(that only uses your powers to help the Hotel staff). Your full form is actually terrifying and you know that, which is why you avoid it. You don’t want to scare anybody, especially not your beloved dad so you always reframe from getting too mad

Just let Papa Alastor handle anything bad. He’ll protect and care for you in the most sweet, cuddly way possible

Alastor is a lunatic, barely sane, monstrous all under a passive-aggressive, well-mannered, dapper 1930s gentleman image but when it comes to you, you’re the most healthy thing he has and he feels genuine love, care and affection for his own offspring. He only views you as his daughter, nothing else or anything exploitative. After all, he acts more like the one serving you than anything. He’ll get you whatever you want, no questions asked

Alastor wants to keep you away from threats so when Adam attacks the Hazbin Hotel. He has no choice but to leave you with Charlie. However, this didn’t last long since you knew your father was struggling when you heard his voice’s radio effect cut out. That was immediately a sign that you, not even a ten-year-old, to jump in and it caused you to rampage against Adam when you used your powers to track down and make it over to Alastor

“PRINCESS! GET AWAY FROM HERE NOW!” Alastor, despite the giant thick cut across his chest, staining his red pinstriped coat, over the white trims of his dark red lapels, yells out as loud as he can to catch his child’s attention, to get her to back off. Struggling to rise up to his feet with his tall fluffy deer-like ears pinned back. A sign of his fear, not because of seeing his babygirl in her full demon form throwing everything she has at the angel, Adam but because you’re in so much danger attacking Adam

Adam isn’t a merciful being, despite being an Angel, and the risk to your life is extremely high. Your demon form is ten times more demonic than any sinner can manifest, due to being produced by raw demonic magic, you form into a pure demonic entity

Screeching out in a menacing echoey way, entirely black and clumpy, phasing in and out like mist, shaped like a mighty Wendigo deer with literally zero resemblance to your cute little form. To you, your father’s in danger and with his cane snapped in half, his powers limited and his radio voice effect gone

You can’t just sit around in Charlie’s arms and let Alastor get killed by this psycho angel!

You have to risk everything to let Alastor escape. However, he isn’t going anywhere without you and is frantically trying to think of a way to get you away from Adam as the said holy entity keeps throwing swings after swings with his holy sharpened guitar to break off all the attacks coming from your Wendigo-style full form, letting out many strings of hateful curses at both you and Alastor. It’s clear with all the shadowy spines and green electricity shocks that you’re desperately trying to fend off the much stronger Angel to try protect your father

But if the Radio Demon himself couldn’t take on Adam for any longer than a few minutes. Of course, you don’t stand a chance, lasting half the time Alastor did. Being beaten when Adam outspeed and charged down a devestating sharp swing on your full form’s form head after you attempt to attack again. Thinking rather fast, you used your magic to cushion the blow to avoid it actually killing you

Being thrown over on the opposite end to where Alastor is and fading back into your normal demon form, a nasty big cut all down your back to the end of your fluffy deer tail, sobbing and clenching fangs

The staff watching nearby were terrified yet impressed. Impressed a child of your age and confidence was able to get that many hits on Adam and manage to guard yourself from a attack from Adam himself, getting away with merely just one cut

The Radio Demon growls frustrated and outraged at being forced to watch his child being thrown around like some doll and get even more hurt, now cornered by Adam, since it’s clear he doesn’t care to attack Alastor anymore. Thinking just as fast and getting up properly with his snapped-into-two cane in one tightening fist

Alastor phases through into the shadows in an almost melting fashion, dragging you down with him in the same shadowy engulfing manner by a single black trail travelling over to where you laid, leaving the bloodthirsty human ancestor as the victor of this fight. Needless to say, Alastor was so pissed. Pissed he lost the fight when he had managed to get many hits on Adam at the first section of the fight and pissed that said Angel dared to put his hands on his angel

At least… you’re safe now. Bleeding, hurt, crying and tired from overworking yourself whilst laid in Alastor’s arms, but you’re alive and okay. In your father’s hold and safe. Away from the Hotel and protected by the Voodoo’s shadowy magic

“You’re okay, darling… you’re okay. Papa’s got you, he’s always got you”

[rubywithecat]

Kissing them when they are least expecting it (Bonten ver.) (fem. reader)

Mikey

- It was supposed to be your dinner date with Mikey but he was having a call about whatever his business is with other executives on his phone for a long period of time. And you felt like you were left out and eating alone. You suddenly came up with an idea that might make him pay attention to you. “Mikey, look at me!” you said as u quickly stood up from your seat and leaned forward, sneaking a kiss on his lips. He was so stunned to speak for a good sec. “What was that, Mikey?” U heard from his phone. “Hello? R u there?” he was called out. His lips curled up. “I will call back later” he said, then hang up. He grabbed your leg with his under the desk, which makes you almost fall and he laughed. “Mikey! Stop!” You yelled but u were happy “Now ur paying attention to me” you proudly smiled like an achievement. “You little devil” he grinned. “Wait until we get home”

Kokonoi

- “Let’s make a bet” your bestie challenged you at a club. “See that man at VIP over there? Kiss him and I will do your assignment for the whole month and you do mine if you fail” she said. “That’s not hard” you winked at her as you confidently walked in your heels. “Miss, you can’t enter this area, it’s for VIP only” a waiter requested. “Do I not look like a VIP?” You attempted and with your pretty privilege, u were let in. You observed the area. Then saw the opportunity and quickly grabbed a champagne glass, purposely bumped into kokonoi. “Omg! Why did you bump into me, sir?!” U gasped dramatically as he was clueless. “Excuse me?? It’s you who bump me?” He defended. “You can’t bully a girl just because she’s weak” you said you stood up on your toe and sneaked a kiss on his lip. “That’s a price you have to pay” you said as you looked at your bestie who was watching you and gave thumbs up. You proudly smiled back at her and quickly about to walk away, embarrassed and awkward. “Sorry, sir… Plz excuse me”. But before you could leave, he grabbed your hands and said, “I am not that cheap, Miss” he smirked as you realized u made the big mistake ever.

Kakucho

-Your neighbor’s house was broken into yesteday so u were scared to live alone at your apartment. You asked your friend, Kakucho to stay a night with you before you install the new security service cuz he’s the only fri of yours who can fight really good. He agreed when he came you invited him for dinner that you prepared beforehand. To admit, you have a crush on him but kept it secret not to ruin friendship. You guys talked and talked and it was so much fun. You were at 3 glasses of wine and kind of drunk but he wasn’t drunk at all. His talking, slowly became blurry in your ears and you were just staring at him, and then his lips and without telling him anything, you kissed him. He was caught off guard but you didn’t expect him to kiss you back but he did, and it was a nice long kiss. “U have no idea how much I fantasize about you” He said as he wickedly smiled as you were the one who caught off guard.

Ran

- You are his assistant and it’s your birthday. However, you didn’t skip work cuz you don’t have anyone to spend time with anyway. “Miss (ur last name), come into my office” Ran said as he walked past your desk so you followed him. You closed the office door behind you as you have entered. “Do you need anything, sir?” You asked formally and he shook his head. Then he suddenly pulled out a gift box from his desk drawer and gave it to you which really surprised you. “What’s that for, sir?” You asked, confused. “Isn’t it your birthday?” he replied. “Yeah… I didn’t think you would remember…” you replied. He blushed but acted cool. “Well, open it” he said as he looked at your reaction. You saw a really pretty and expensive necklace from Cartier. “Omg! Sir, I can’t accept it. It’s too expensive” you handed back. “Take it. I especially chose this for you”. “Really? If then…thanks a lot!” You were more than happy cuz it’s your first luxury item and you can’t help but without your own knowledge, you suddenly kissed his cheek. Then you were so embarrassed about what you had done! You apologized quickly. “I’m so sorry, sir! I’m sorry…” but interrupted by his kiss on your lips as he grabbed your neck. “Dont try to resist it now. You started it first, bby” he smirked.

Rindou

- You are at an arcade and competing with him in virtual driving game. You properly scored well but when it’s his turn, he’s doing a lot better than you and got a perfect score. “Let’s rematch” you said feeling competitive. He smirked. “Just accept the fact that you can’t win me, bby but fine” he said as he got up from the seat. You scored a lil more than previous one but you don’t think you will win over him this time too so you came up with a wicked idea. He was nearly to complete his match and suddenly you kissed him and he lost focus which he crashed into another car and lost points. He scored less than you finally. “I win!” You yelled. “That’s cheating, y/n!” He defended. “Do you have any proof?” You teased him. He looked at you for a sec and grabbed you by your waist and pushed you back to the chair. “Rindou! wtf r u doing? Get off me!” You said. He trapped you on the chair as he lean closer. “You’re not getting away with this, love”

Sanzu

- You were arguing with him cuz you got yourself into almost having a car accident and he was worried. “You’re not driving anymore. That is.” He said as he took the car key from your hand. “Give me back!” You defended. “Why would I?” he replied proudly as your attempt to grab the key back failed. “You can’t control what I have to do!” You yelled. “Look, I’m not changing my mind and ur not getting your key back” he continued “You could have hurt and I’m gonna—“ He was interrupted as you suddenly kissed him. He was so shocked that his grips to key was weakened so you could quickly grab a key from him easily. “Got it!” you said and teased him with gesture and as you were gonna walk away, he laughed “Don’t underestimate me, sweetheart” and he pushed you down to the couch. At the same time, he also knelt onto it, facing you on your top. “It’s your fault for testing me” he smirked and grabbed your hands tight as the key dropped from the side and he ignored it cuz his only focus now is you. ;)

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I hope you guys love this! Don’t forget to give me feedbacks, luvs <33 And likes and shares would be so much appreciated! Thanks :*

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[themeraldee]

Sweet Valentine

[Masterlist]

| 3.8k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Fluff. Some silly banter. And a whole lot of kissing and cuddling. Homelander is still Homelander (i.e. thoughts of murder occur on a daily basis, though not aimed at reader). Teeny tiny bit of Homelander trying to get frisky ('trying to' being the keyword here)

Summary: After a week of being spoiled with gifts leading up to Valentine's, you treat Homelander to a surprise of your own.

Author’s Note: This was meant to be done for Valentine's but hey at least it's still (barely) February!

Written for @discowizard88 for this request🩷

That’s just his rotten fucking luck. 

Marketing thought it would be a good idea to book his entire week full of appearances, shows, interviews and commercial shoots because they didn’t think he had anything better to do. Fucking imbeciles. He has you now.

He’s been looking forward to this day for months. Throughout your first year together Homelander’s been counting down all the occasions, events and celebrations that he’s not really had a chance to cherish before. Maeve was never the type to accept his grand, downright scripted, romantic gestures. Their last celebrated Valentine’s she all but laughed in his face when he brought her roses. Needless to say, they’ve not celebrated any consequent Valentine’s from that year on out. 

But you’re different. You appreciate it, you appreciate him. You turn downright giddy anytime he showers you with gifts and love. He was more than ready to smother you in love on this day. It’s a day for lovers, after all, what good would it be if he wasted that opportunity.

He planned it all out. Valentine’s day was gonna be big. As if you could expect anything less from him. And while the gifts kept coming, so did the TV appearances and commercial shoots.

It took one blink for the entire week to be pretty much over without him getting to participate in many of the activities he had planned. 

Homelander hasn’t felt this frustrated in a while. While he tried his best to move the schedule around, Madelyn was adamant about the importance these event had on his image and he couldn’t do much but grit his teeth and comply lest he upset her. But why doesn’t she see how important this is to him? Isn’t it obvious? 

He feels his eyes twitch. His smile becomes tighter, strained. Easily turning from his TV smile to the threatening grimace it truly is. These fucking photoshoots are beneath him. As if he doesn't have anything better to do than to stand here for hours until they've taken thousands of photos of him.

His irritation rises with each click of the camera, each flash blinding his eyes. He barely notices the way his eyes subtly heat up over the sound of ringing his ears. He's seconds away from blasting a hole straight through the camera lens and the photographer's brain. The urge to let go is strong, so strong in fact he can already imagine the bitter scent of burning wafting through the air.

Only thing that takes him out of his irritation is a subtle vibration against his leg signaling a new message. He instantly knows it's from you, nobody else gets texting privileges. Heat blooms in his chest. Just the thought of your attention brings back a genuine smile. 

He graces the crew with a smile that really is meant for you.

“Sorry folks, I gotta take five.” His lips are stretched into that awkward thin-lipped smile and he puts his hands up in a faux-apologetic gesture. He steps off the backdrop to the side, already fishing out his phone from the hidden pocket he had the costume department sew in. They carved out a space in the fake musculature of the suit so it fit right in without leaving an awkward rectangular outline in what's meant to be a skin tight suit. 

He unlocks his phone, greeted with the sickly sweet photo of the two of you. Sometimes this joy feels like his little secret. A vindictive joy against the odds. 

Come to the cabin when you're free. I've got a surprise for you ❤️

Even a simple message from you causes the weight on his chest to drop, dissolving his anger immediately. 

Aren't you a saint? Unknowingly you've just saved the entire studio. And they don't even know how grateful they should be that he has you. 

And with a promise like that he can't really stand to have one more photo taken. He slips his phone back into his pocket, turning around with a swish of his cape.

“Whoopsie-daisy, gonna have to cut this short, the city calls for my help. You know how it is, the criminals just looove to push their luck. Anyway, you got enough right? Yeah? yeah I thought so." He makes some broad gestures with a solidifying thumbs-up as if he was committing to a deal and salutes with a, "Alright. Laters.” He talks fast enough to shut any critical comments down before they even have a chance to spill from their worthless mouths.

With a quick glance to the corner of the room where Ashley is already standing anxiously arrow-straight, he doesn’t need to say anything to know that she will fight and bargain to save the situation to the best of her meagre abilities. However the fuck she does is not his problem, not like he needs to explain himself.

He doesn't wait to see the other people’s reactions, already eager to lose the watchful eyes of the crew and the camera lens. He downright stomps his way out of the studio and at the first glimpse of the bright blue sky he takes off, kicking off the ground with an obnoxious boom that rattles the foundations of nearby buildings.

He’s giddy with excitement. As he rips through the clouds, the wind pulling his hair back, slashing through the gelled cast, he can’t take that smile off his face. The adrenaline-like rush he feels in his gut over your surprise is new. It’s exciting! He doesn’t remember the last time somebody treated him to an honest-to-god surprise. A proper one at least. None of the slimy corporate schmoozing.

He reaches the location in record speed, just under seven minutes—though it still feels like forever. But the excitement clouds his vision and suddenly he’s barrelling down the atmosphere, seconds away from performing one of his ostentatious landings and exploding the ground around him. He catches himself last second, putting his heel first as an emergency break.

His landing is clumsy. He staggers as soon as his foot hits the ground, kicking up the leaves around him into the air. He regains his balance at the last tremble of his foot, sparing himself the embarrassment of a failed landing—one he hasn’t experienced since the lab days.

God, now look at his pathetic simpering self.

Literally falling head over heels because you blew your whistle. Like a needy puppy he races to you, zipping through all obstacles, unwilling to lose a single second of the allocated time he gets to spend with you.

The sweetheart you are, you’d probably praise him for it anyway and kiss his boo-boo away. That thought alone makes him rethink the fall. Not that he can actually get scraped by a measly rough landing. Though, maybe the extra attention is worth the damage it would do to his ego. 

“Woaaah, you okay?” Before he’s had a chance to look around and lock his eyes on you, you’re in his field of vision by your own doing. Quick footsteps, muffled by the leaves covering the ground become louder and louder until you’ve got your arms wrapped around one of his, helping him up. As if he actually needed it. He’s so charmed by the way you treat him as if he were fine china.

You give an awkward little chuckle. “Don’t want you getting hurt because of me.” 

Overcome with surging emotions, Homelander pulls you closer, both of his hands cupping your cheeks as he gives you a big sappy kiss. It’s as much a hello as it is a I love you with all my heart. 

Now that his heart is satisfied, for the time being at least, he lets you go. Immediately tempted to dive in for more after he sees your flustered face, all giddy twitches to the corners of your lips as you look everywhere but him. Almost embarrassed that somebody might see you two kiss so passionately.

Yeah, he can’t let you go without more. He pulls you in again, and this time his kisses are silly. Loud with a wet mwah each time he presses a kiss to a different part of your face. Your cheeks, nose, forehead, chin and lips don’t stand a chance. This time his kisses do force flustered giggles out of you, a squeak or two after he squishes your cheeks with his numerous kisses. Good luck keeping count with him around.

Oh how he missed you. This week has been nothing but one item on Vought’s itinerary after another and his hunger for you and your love has been growing each passing second he spends in your absence.

You finally manage to push him away, the rapid-fire smooching already getting you ticklish and wobbly. Not that he wouldn’t catch you should his affection be too much for you. Of course then you really couldn’t escape the descent of affection he had to give. 

But he’s a merciful god, and he lets you create some distance. Satisfied, he watches your giggles slowly die out as you look every bit in love. “Hey,” you finally break your loving eye contact and you reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Hey, you.” He echoes, his smile equally fond, eyes crinkling with genuine joy.

“You got here very quickly.” You note. Both a little impressed and suspicious. He’s very aware of the way your thumb is rubbing over his glove. Though dulled through the leather, each stroke makes his heart gain a little momentum.

“Well, you know,” he waves his free hand in the air, “the shoot was just wrapping up. I left as soon as I could. Wouldn’t wanna miss our secret little rendezvous.” The fact that he was close to burning down the studio is a little detail you don’t need to be privy to. Though at this point, you can probably tell. 

“Speaking of,” Homelander continues. “There you go, summoning me to a quiet, middle of nowhere, cabin in the woods. Mind enlightening me what’s all this about? What kind of naughty plans has your pretty little head cooked up that require total isolation, huh?” His grin is sharp and he by no means hides the immediate thoughts running through his head.

“First of all, this is your cabin. Not some middle of nowhere. Second of all, get your mind out of the gutter—now.” Even through your scolding you giggle, grinning at him as you walk backwards, dragging him with you.

Turning just around the end of the cabin presents a sweet sight. On the soft grass lies a picnic blanket, adorned with a woven basket, a colourful spread of food, pillows, and even a bunch of roses. As if taken straight from a romance novel. 

Except, this is real. Unlike most of his previous love life.

“Tada! Happy Valentine’s day!” You let his hand go and you raise your arms in the air at the reveal. Right along with your pretty glittering smile. The joy of this moment feels unreal. Is this really happening? Is this really his life these days? He can’t remember a time when he last experienced a joy this pure that wasn’t with you.

“W-uh-what? You put all of this together?” He’s a little shell-shocked. After a busy week, filled with more work than time with you—much to his displeasure—this feels like an oasis. He’s been parched all week, dragging through the desert that was working for Vought and here you come, rescuing him with the most delicious sip of water. Well, more like a whole reservoir of it.

“I had a teeny tiny bit of help but yeah,” you pinch your fingers together to show just how little help you’ve had.

“I had to make it a secret! And you’ve been treating me so well all week, I had to have a little surprise for you too.” He can’t tell which one of you is more excited. You look more excited with your near ‘skipping to the picnic blanket’ attitude, but his heart is hammering against his ribcage with this overwhelming joy he’s not felt in a while. He still so easily gets disarmed by all the ways you show your love. This is just another cherry on top of what feels like an infinitely tiered cake that is your relationship. Each time he thinks you surely don’t have more to give, you go and add another tier or another cherry. Sweeting his sour life, one moment at a time.

“Come on,” you walk—no, skip—back to him, aiming to grasp both of his hands. Homelander catches you right before you manage to, one arm around your waist, the other supporting the back of your head and just like that you’re yet again caught in the web that are his kisses. He presses his lips firmly against yours, waiting for you to relax, letting him have his way with your now-parted lips. With pleased little sighs and long hums in between, he renders your legs into a jelly-like state, supporting your weight effortlessly.

“I love you,” he breathes out heavily when he finally pulls away, his forehead pressed against yours.

“I love you too,” you catch your breath. The smile you offer up steals his heart a hundred times over, while the sped up pitter-patter of your heart soothes him. You’re just as enamored by him as he is by you.

“Let’s enjoy this together.” He lets you take his hands this time as you walk him to the picnic. You sit down first, carving out a space for the two of you, impatiently patting the area next to you. Homelander takes care to move his cape out of the way while not knocking anything over or covering anything up.

“I hope your calendar is free the entire weekend because I brought a lot of food, drinks, blankets and movies and I plan to spend all this time spoiling you.”

“I thought it was the gentleman’s job to spoil his lady.” He looks at you fondly, one wouldn’t even recognise him like this. Though most haven’t earned this reaction from him. You have. 

“What can I say, I’m all for gender equality. So just let me spoil you for once.”

“Alright then missy, let’s see what you’ve got.” He’s lying on his side, propped up on his elbow. 

While you reach for the furthest tray filled with all sorts of sweets and finger food, Homelander looks around at all that you’ve prepared, curiously picking up an iced cookie.

“Are these… our initials?” He asks after he inspects the heart shaped cookie from each side before biting into it. They’re clearly custom made with the love for each other in mind, but the idea of you ordering these from a bakery makes him chuckle. What’s next, are you gonna get him to carve out your initials into a tree?

Well, he definitely could.

Maybe, he should. 

He could carve out your initials into the moon if you asked him to. 

“Cheesy, I know.”

“Sweet too, just like you.” 

“I take it back, you’re a whole league ahead of the cookies.” You deadpan.

“Come on babe, when else if not on Valentine’s day? Cut me some slack.” He was gonna put the rest of the cookie down, not wanting to overwhelm himself with too much sugar but seeing his initial all alone now that he’s bitten off your letter looks too sad for his liking. He pops the rest of the cookie in his mouth, wiping off the crumbs with his glove. 

“Now, now. Don’t get too full on cookies. I’ve got more for you.” You pluck a chocolate covered strawberry from a tray. “Here, open up.” You hold the chocolate covered tip of the strawberry close to his lips, waiting for him to take a bite. It’s only appropriate for a man of god-like status like him to be fed and worshipped by his love. You always fill that role so well. His most devout one. 

He bites half of it, letting you eat the rest. You put the green top back onto the tray when you’re done with your portion.

“You know I’ve never had those before.” He says after a thorough tasting session.

You have the audacity to look at him like he’s grown another head.

“You’re fucking with me. You’ve never had chocolate strawberries?” Your face scrunches in disbelief as you speak over a mouthful of goodness.

“I’ve had chocolate. I’ve had strawberries. Obviously. Just never together.” He shakes his head a little, acting as if you’re the crazy one.

“Wow. Okay. We’re gonna have to explore this bizarre list of things you’ve never had before.” Indulgently you go for another one, and he takes another mental note of your likes.

When he says nothing you prompt him with, “Well? What’s the verdict? Is it everything you’ve ever imagined?”

“Did you make them?” He asks, confusing you, instead of actually answering your question.

“No, I picked them up from the same bakery I got the cookies from.”

“Okay good, well, it’s not my favourite. Sorry to disappoint you there.” He clasps his hands together as he looks at you with a terribly fake apologetic smile.

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold up. Were you about to lie to me if I said I did make them?”

He sputters, blowing a raspberry as he looks away, pretending to just be scoping out the place.

“Who, me? No, never!” He feigns innocence without actually putting any of his acting chops behind the gesture.

“You ass!” You gently smack his chest. “What didn’t you like about it?” Now that you know he’s not a fan, you eagerly hog the tray, scoffing down one strawberry after another.

“The taste is fine enough. It’s the texture that’s all wrong. Mushy and crunchy at the same time is just, bleugh.” He shakes his head a little bit as if disgusted, acting all dramatic. He’d happily be seen as silly and dramatic if it gets you to laugh as joyously and heartily as it does this time.

When your chuckles die out, you call him out. “Fussy. Oh well, more for me.”

He takes his time. Watching over you closely as you enjoy your sweet little red treats.

“You know what would taste better?” 

“Hmm?” You hum absentmindedly, putting the tray away after discarding another leafy top.

“You.” He pulls you down to his level when your hands are free, lying you across the top of him.

You yelp at the sudden pull. After you settle on top of him a little better, you mumble. “I taste just like the strawberries!” 

“Mhm, but you feel a hell of a lot better. C’mere.” Just like that, he’s kissing you again. His hands can’t decide where to hold you so they slide around your back, your hips—stealing a cheeky squeeze of your ass, shocking a little nip to his lip from you—and all the way around your neck, head and arms. His hands are just as greedy for you as his lips are.

And you were right. You do taste like strawberries and chocolate. The hint of sweet and delicious alongside the taste of you that he so loves. You don’t take his kisses as seriously. Giggling and wobbling on top of him.

You pull away with a burst of giggles at the awkward position. You’re almost spread entirely across him, limb to limb. Body part to body part. It’s admittedly a little silly looking. Like two people making snow angels on top of one another. But still, the effortlessness that comes with the sounds you make, swells his heart with fondness.

You reach your arm out into the woven wicker basket and pull out a can of whipped cream.

“Well if you don’t like the chocolate ones, I’ve got some whipped cream for you.” Except instead of covering one of the fresh strawberries, you squirt a dollop of cream at the tip of his nose.

Homelander’s bewildered at your child-like actions. Especially so, when you lick the cream off with a disgusting slurp.

“Welp, now you’ve done it.” He easily wrestles you for the can without needing to use even an ounce of his strength, twisting the two of you around. 

He manages to knock over some of your pretty trays but he can’t force himself to care. Now when you’re underneath him.

You look so pretty like this.

Happily taking your place underneath him, cheeks puffed up with your laughter, lips in a constant wide grin. Your happiness around him makes you the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. He has to stop himself from descending on you with another avalanche of kisses, instead opting for continuing this playful little wrestling match you got yourselves into.

Homelander squirts the cream in a line over your lips, licking and kissing it off in between the laughter that still shakes your body. He leaves your lips leaving all sticky and improperly cleaned. This distracts you well enough for him to draw a line from your neck to your cleavage.

With a scandalous shriek you try to push him away. “Oh my god are you crazy, not out here!”

You squeak even more when you feel the cream land in between your breasts, spreading across your skin as it slowly warms up and turns liquid.

“There is literally nobody out here. I’d hear them.” Or well, let’s be real. He’d burn their eyes out for accidentally seeing you in a mildly compromising position, he wants to add but chooses to keep the moment sweet for your sake.

Obscenely, he licks up all the cream he covered you with. No matter how much you act as if this is the filthiest thing he’s ever done. There are plenty more filthier things he’s got planned with this whipped cream. Suddenly you’ve opened up a whole world of possibilities he hasn’t thought of before.

Thinking he’s already got you hook, line and sinker as soon as his tongue hits your skin, he’s in for another surprise when you don’t give in as easily. You manage to snag the can from his hand right before he gets any further.

“If you want to continue this, we’re gonna have to pack all of this up and take it indoors.” You threaten as if you were scolding a child.

"Fine. We can stay here." Finally, with a huff, he drops his advances, instead dropping his weight on you for a second before readjusting your position. Really, he’s glad that you have a mind of your own. Which isn’t something he can say for most of the people he’s surrounded with.

“See, this is nice.” You pull yourself up a little so that his head rests on your stomach. You take a deep breath, exhaling slowly and he enjoys the slow rise and fall of your torso. To have someone so alive and eager with him really feels like the best Valentine’s day gift. That sickly sweet dimpled little fruit could never compare.

So yeah. It is nice. Really nice.

Your fingers cradle through his locks, gently breaking apart the hair product the styling team piled on for his photoshoot. He hums his pleased approval into the softness of your stomach, nuzzling himself into you.

Shenanigans can always wait. Now, he has this. And the rest of the weekend to catch up on all the time lost.

Taglist (you can add(or remove) yourself to be tagged when I publish a new fic):

@infinetlyforgotten | @rafecamsgirlll | @nervoussystemss | @hom3landr

@mrsdesade | @nommingonfood | @littlegaaby | @jokesonyoupup

@natliecole | @misatxox

[twddixonn]

Good Boy

Daryl Dixon x Reader one shot

Warnings/Tags: not proof read!!!, sfw, some swears, shane.

this is my first fic on this account, my first time attempting to write a fic in 4-ish years and my first time trying to write a twd fic. honestly it’s probably not great but I hope it’s at least somewhat decent. :-)

(also written and posted mobile so not sure how it will appear on browser, hopefully not too terrible!)

“Leave me the hell alone.” You harshly whispered, turning on your heels and storming away from the scene in front of you.

Your best friend reuniting with his wife and son. Alive. Not dead. This whole time he had you believing that Rick was dead and gone, never coming back. Yet your eyes were seeing a whole different story to the one Shane painted out for you a couple months prior.

Shane followed pursuit, ignoring the former comment you had made and put a firm hold on your wrist before pulling you behind Dales RV to conceal you from the others.

“Hey, hey . I swear to you Y/N, he was dead when I left that hospital room. He wasn’t breathing. Th- the monitors, they all stopped. Everything went dead. He was dead.” Shane iterated, time and time again.

You feel the anger bubbling up inside you, just like all those other times when Shane had told you Rick was dead and to get it through your head he isn’t coming back. Your hands curled into fists, your nails stabbing into your palm leaving crescent shaped indents.

“Except he wasn’t. Is this why you didn’t want me to go there? Didn’t want Lori to go there? Because you knew if you swooped in and saved her and Carl when Rick couldn’t that what- she’d become your damsel in distress? Is this why? Just so you could get your leg over and fuck your partners wife and become Carls daddy? You’re pathetic Shane.” At this point your head was swarming with thoughts and ideas of what you wanted to do to Shane but better judgement got the best of you.

You began to walk off when a hand reached for you again, this time rougher. Shane pushed you against the RV, his brows furrowed and sweat dripping off his temples- smoke nearly coming out of his ears at this point.

“I don’t know what you think you know but you’re wrong either way. I think you’re forgetting that I didn’t just save Lori and Carl, I saved your sorry ass too. I didn’t have to. That was on me Y/N, That was on me. An’ I ain’t ever looked at Lori like that before, she was Ricks wife and he was my best friend. It happened because I thought he was dead.” He all but growled at you in a hushed whisper.

You remained quiet and stoic for a few moments, registering your thoughts before smirking slightly and speaking again. Pushing Shane’s hand off of you, you began to walk away but not before turning and giving one last snide remark, “I think I know right. And, by the way.. really interesting use of the past tense in those last few sentences there.”

Dickhead.

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“I’ve been here for quite a few hours now and yet, still no hello?” You looked beside you to see Rick crouched with a smile on his face, placing an arm around your shoulder which you leaned into graciously.

“Sorry Grimes.. just- a lot to take in y’no.” You said.

“Na’ I get it. Shane told me what happened.” Rick remarked whilst kissing his teeth and shaking his head.

“He did? Really? What did he say?.”

To say you were shocked was an understatement, Shane had really gone out of his way to-

“Yeah.” He breathed out, “Told me how it started, he tried to get me from the hospital but I wasn’t breathing and he thought I was dead. How he saved you and Lori n’ Carl and got you all here.”

“He told you that huh.” You should have known.

Rick started to stand back up, giving you a pat on the back and a kiss to the forehead first “I’m gonna go get some shut eye, you need too aswell. Talk more in the morning Y/N.” Rick turned to walk back towards camp, not before turning and speaking again, “Y/N.. go nice on Shane though ok? He’s a good guy, you just gotta give him a chance.”

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You wake up the next day to the sound of what you thought was - for once - peace and quiet. Until you hear the shouts outside and a woman screaming stop.

Debating between laying back down and just going back to sleep or getting up and out of your tent to see what was going on, you went with the better judgement and begrudgingly dragged yourself to get changed and step outside.

Shielding your eyes from the rays of light beaming off the Atlanta sun with a sigh escaping your lips at the slight breeze that hit your clammy skin.

“You’d best let me go!”- what the fuck was happening this time?

Walking closer you take sight of Shane with his arms wrapped around Daryl’s neck. A fuckin’ cop getting someone in a choke hold the minute they raise their voice? New worlds maybe not as different from before.

“I’d like to have a calm discussion on this topic, you think we can manage that?” Rick spoke calmly whilst he crouched in front of Daryl, his chest heaving with rocky breaths as Shane’s tight grip didn’t let up just yet.

“You think we can manage that?” Rick repeated.

You zoned out at this point, eyes boring into the side of Shane’s skull with anger.

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“I’m coming.” You didn’t hesitate to jump at the opportunity to get away from camp for a while. The rising tension taking over was beginning to grate at you.

“That’s five”

Shane piped up “It’s not just five, you’re putting every single one of us at risk.” “Just know that Rick”

“Come on man you saw that walker. It was here.

It was in camp.

They’re moving out of the cities.

They come back, we need every able body we’ve got.

We need em here, we need em to protect camp.”

Staying focused when Shane’s voice is droning on for what seems like eternity is quite the mission lately. Listening to him is beginning to seem like nails on a chalkboard.

“-Shane is right. Merle Dixon? He’s not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in.”

Hearing Loris voice made you gain attention again.

“If someone left Rick behind-“ you began to join the conversation, maybe with the words aimed at Shane slightly. He clearly picked up on it as his eyes shot to you, if looks could only kill, you’d be six feet under.

“Would you want them to go back for him? Or would you let him stay handcuffed to a roof to die slowly?” Your eyes landing on Lori.

“That’s different. Rick.. he.. he isn’t like Merle. He wouldn’t get himself into that position in the first place.” The stern mom tone coming out as Lori tried to keep her composure and not snap in front of Carl.

“You think Merle purposely got himself into that position? He’s an asshole yeah, and he may have deserved it. But he didn’t expect to be handcuffed and then left behind. Not knowing if anyone was going to go back for him. It may have been an accident. But he shouldn’t have to sit there wondering if he’s just going to die from thirst and hunger or if he’s going to get torn to pieces at the hands of walkers. He may not be your family, but he’s someone’s family. You have your husband, your son. You have Shane. Merle is all Daryl has.” You’re not sure if you were even breathing during that, your chest rising up and down at a rapid speed. You felt rage. How could anyone justify this bullshit?

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Sitting in the back of the van was a bit more awkward than you anticipated. Glenn and Rick up front. You, Daryl and T-dog in the back. Maybe the tension in the back of this van was worse than the tension at camp?

You looked up smiling at T-dog as he avoided Daryl’s intense stare, before he got up and headed to the front to talk to Glenn and Rick.

Daryl kept shooting you glances whenever he thought you couldn’t see, a grunt leaving his mouth every so often as if he was about to talk but decided against it.

Just as you looked up at him, he was already staring with his mouth open yet no words seemed to come so he just scoffed and averted his eyes anywhere but at you.

You began to grow a bit frustrated at him. “What?”

“Nothin’” he all but murmured.

“Stop grunting and scoffing at me like a dog who didn’t get enough treats, be a good boy and just say whatever it is you’ve been wanting to say for the last 15 minutes.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at yourself.

You could have sworn you saw a light tinge of pink cross his cheeks before his head dropped down facing his lap.

His mouth opened and closed, before opening once again “Why’d ya stick up for me.. for Merle back at tha’ camp?”

Oh. That’s what this was about? The intense looks he gave you before this made you think it was about anything but this.

“What do you mean?” You had to admit you were somewhat confused at this.

“Ya said it y’self, Merle, he’s an asshole. So why’d ya go out of ya way to defend him? Why didn’t ya just side with the others and leave him?” Head dropping once again as his thumb found its way to his lips as he gnawed on the nail.

Silence.

You were stuck for words. “He is an asshole. Maybe one of the biggest assholes I’ve ever known. But he’s your brother, maybe not the greatest one but still your brother no matter what. He’s all you have left. The others may not understand, but I do.” Taking a deep breath in and thinking about your next words carefully, “I honestly couldn’t give a shit about him. Doesn’t mean I want him to suffer up there on that roof. No one deserves it. Well I mean maybe some people y’no? Really bad people. And maybe Shane. Merle, he’s not necessarily one of those really bad people. He makes mistakes, says things he definitely shouldn’t and has actions that match, but don’t we all in one way or another?”

Daryl was slightly overwhelmed. Not expecting you to be so honest and caring? Somewhat caring anyway. He didn’t know what to say.

You hummed and tapped your fingers against your legs, “Nothing to say?”

“I dunno what you want me to say.”

A grin made its way to your face.

“How about a thanks?”

“Thanks.” He grumbled trying not to scoff afterwards to avoid being called a dog again.

The van began to come to a stop, Glenn saying something about walking from here.

You stood up whilst stretching your arms above your head.

“That’ll do. Good boy.”

You smirked at him before opening the back of the van and climbing out. Leaving a blushing Daryl in the back trying to hide his face as he groaned standing up.

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authors note: it’s not the greatest, I am very aware. but I really wanna get back into writing in general and I thought starting with twd would be the best place to start as it’s one of my comfort shows. there’s not much happening, it’s very heavily based on s1 e3 obviously but it’s mostly just to try and get back in the swing of things! if you have an constructive feedback or any comments you’d like to make, please feel free as it will be much appreciated :-) I’m hoping to improve my writing skills more and more. It will probably take a while (I’ve literally had the first half of this thing in my notes app since June 2024) but I hope to get to the point of making some good fics! thank you for reading if you managed to make it this far!:)

[spicedcherrylolli]

Modern!Sevika x Bookworm!reader - The Ex

This is something I have been thinking about a lot recently. I will admit I am projecting my own personal need for Sevika. Hope you all enjoy Sevika getting a little jealous, I know I did!❤️

-Cherry

p.s. I suck at titles. If you have any tips, please help a women lover out 😘

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Sevika isn’t the PDA type. She likes her time holding, touching, and kissing you to be in private. It was something that you didn’t mind if you were being honest. It was not necessary for you and after getting to know Sevika more, the more you understood and accepted her quirks. As she did with you. So that’s why, you’re currently looking at Sevika like the world stopped in its axis.

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It had been a slightly above average day. You and Sevika were off work/school and decided to have a day out, thrifting, trying new and old coffee spots, and most exciting to you, book shopping. It had been months since you had the chance to go shop around. I was also exciting because Sevika was there. Sevika stood there, followed you around, carrying all the books you want, and listening to every summery you gave and a nod when pointing out ones you’ve read.

“Oh, and I read this series. The first book is so good, but the second got so slow and the romance didn’t develop like i wanted to. And then I had to DNF the last, cuz it was just so so bad” You speak softly to Sevika, her nodding and following you as you move down the aisle.

Sevika loves coming to the bookstore with you. You are in your element, bright eyes, soft voice, and she can feel the excited calm radiating from you. She would never admit how much seeing this part of you made her love you so much more. She held the basket with pride and took in everything you said, sorting and storing the knowledge in the back of her head, (and sometimes her phone) for gift ideas. She might hate the whole PDA thing, but to her, this is basically the same thing. Being there for her girl and buying whatever books you wanted was telling the world you are hers.

“I think I’ll get this one.” you pause, “Oh wait I think I saw the special edition over there, I’ll be right back.”

Turning and walking away, Sevika stands in the romance section. Feeling eyes on her, she turns her head to see a face she wanted to punch maybe severely hurt.

Here’s the thing, Sevika isn’t the jealous type. She knows and trusts she has you and nothing could take that away other than her own actions. However, Sevika had heard much about your ex. The individual that hurt you countless times and broke your trust equally so. It was something therapy and Sevika’s reassuring mannerisms has helped you overcome for the most part. But not for your girlfriend. Making eye contact with them, she pushed her feet forward, ready to tell them off.

“Vika, -” You interrupt, “sorry I got distracted. They had two different special editions of the same book can you bel-” you were cut off by Sevika grabbing your hips, pulling you close, basket now on the floor and kissing you. Hands moving up and cupping your face to kiss you deeper. It was taking your breath way and simultaneously making you worried your girlfriend was having some health episode. Pulling away slowly, confusion and awe written on your face.

“What was that for?” You ask slightly out of breath. Picking up the basket beside her, she looks around, seeing the ex is gone, and turns back to you.

“No reason, I can’t just kiss my girl in public?”

Taken aback, “Well of course you can, but you don’t like to”

Sevika chuckled, the hint of a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. "Maybe I’m starting to change my mind," she said, her eyes flicking over to where your ex had been standing moments ago, now gone.

You raised an eyebrow, still processing what just happened. "So... that was because...?"

Her gaze softened as she looked back at you, the playful edge still there but tinged with something serious. "That was reminding me that you're mine. And no one gets what's mine."

She shrugged slightly, as if trying to play it off as nothing, a protectiveness radiating off of her "I’m not jealous, but I’ve got a limit."

Your stomach filled with butterflies, and for a moment, you almost forgot where you were. "Sevika," you started, awe and understanding lingering behind it, her name taking your breath.

She gave you a small smile, one that was equal parts softness and confidence. "I care about you more than you could possibly understand. Now, are you going to grab that special edition or what?" She nudged you lightly, trying to shift the attention away from her unexpected outburst of PDA.

You couldn’t help reciprocating a grin, even as your heart races. Taking the clue, you start browsing again, except this time it was different. The air was charged, you kept bumping into Sevika.

By the time you left the shop, with enough books to keep you occupied for some time, your only thought was Sevika. How you had gotten so lucky to have her and her thinking how lucky she is to have you. You both spend the night in each other’s arms, doing everything to make sure you each knew and felt the love you had for each other.

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[its-time-to-write]

hello! First thing first, I want to say how much of a good writer you are, I hope you know this 💕 second I have this idea of reader and Jamie dating, but nobody knows. One day reader is in the coaches room and starts yawning and Roy is like what's that 🤨 (something similar to that scene with beard after he gets back with jane) and reader answers with "you have been waking me up everyday at 4 am" or smt like that and this is how everyone finds out. I know you have already written something like this but I thought it was cute, so feel free to ignore

this was cute. you were right.

coffee at midnight

Neither you nor Jamie exactly decided to keep your relationship a secret.

“It’s not a secret, it’s private, babe,” Jamie insists. You just roll your eyes.

But like, it is private.

That means no instagram posts, no public dates, and no unasked opinions. It also means that Jamie gets a Polaroid camera (“so we don’t get hacked, babe,”), plans dates in his giant house, and keeps fans’ noses out of your relationship.

It also, also means that Roy Kent doesn’t know you’re in Jamie’s bed every morning when he knocks on the door loud enough to wake the dead.

You’re a week into these shenanigans, and you’re not sure how much longer you can handle it. You’ve barely been at Nelson Road for an hour, but you’ve yawned more than you’ve spoken. Jamie’s been sending you apologetic looks every time he passes you in the hall, but now the entire team is in the weight room as you bring the coaches their coffee.

You place Roy’s in front of him and he asks, “The fuck’s wrong with you?”

You glare. “Nothing. That’s rude to ask, anyway. I’m-” you pause to yawn- “fine.”

Ted looks between you and Roy. “Normally I’d side with the lady on this one, but you look dead on your feet. You been sleepin’ okay?”

“Yes,” you reply shortly. “I’ve been sleeping fine. I just don’t get a lot of it these days.”

“That sounds decidedly un-sexy,” Trent calls from his desk.

You snarl, “It isn’t,” then realize that Trent is undeserving of your anger. “I’m sorry. I’ve been getting like five hours of sleep every night this whole week. Me and my boyfriend just moved in together and we both talk like way too much. So we usually don’t fall asleep until late.”

The room fills with whistles and hoots from Ted, Beard, and Trent. Roy is stoic as always.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Ted grins. “What’s his name?”

You hesitate. You’re pretty sure Jamie would be okay if you told Ted, but you’re not sure you really want to. You let the silence stretch on for a beat too long, and Trent’s on you like a vulture.

“It’s someone here, isn’t it?” he asks.

“No,” you reply, but it’s not convincing. It’s hard for you to lie when you’re this tired.

Jamie and Sam choose this exact moment to come into the locker room to grab water bottles. Jamie glances at you and you make the mistake of glancing back. It’s just for a second but Trent catches it with his stupid eagle-eyes.

“Oh shit,” he says.

You round on him. Maybe he does deserve your anger. “Don’t say anything,” you warn.

He zips his lips as Roy says, “Why are you being so fucking weird? We know you’re fucking lying. Just say which of these little pricks you’re dating and get some sleep like a fucking normal adult.”

“I’d be able to get regular sleep, except you’ve been waking me up at fucking 4am!” you explode.

The room goes silent. 

“Fuuuck,” Roy whispers. “Fucking Tartt? You’re dating- fuck, you moved in with fucking Tartt?”

“Yes,” you groan, “We’ve been together for six months and it’s probably the most serious relationship I’ve ever been in, and I know how it sounds but we really like each other. Higgins already knows because of HR shit but other than that, it’s been private.”

Ted and Beard have matching open-mouthed smiles. It would be a little scary if you hadn’t known them for as long as you have.

“That’s the most adorable shit I’ve ever heard in my whole life,” Beard says.

“Hold on,” Trent interjects, “does this mean you and Jamie have been staying up late every night talking?”

“Yes,” you reply primly. “And then this prick bangs on our door at fuck-thirty in the morning and I’m awake for the rest of the day.”

Roy says, “Right,” very slowly. “Is that fucking why he wasn’t wearing fucking trousers?”

All eyes turn to you.

“I’m not answering that,” you say. “In fact, I think I hear Higgins calling me. I have to leave right now.” You back out of the room and down the hall before anyone can say anything else.

The coaches’ office is silent for a moment before they all clamor out of their seats to chase you down the hall. They have so many questions but first, they’re going to yell at Higgins for keeping it a secret.

[stellamarielu]

hi! can i request a declan x reader fic where they’re co-workers and they’re very attracted to each other but wouldn’t admit it (because of maud, because she’s younger, etc.) they have a heated argument at work that turns into a kiss and they’re forced to confront their feelings? thank you!!! i’ve been obsessed with your writing

back to the office

declan o'hara x female reader

summary: an argument with declan leads to a confession of feelings, amongst other things…

content: cursing, jealousy, a bit of angst, a steamy car makeout sesh

author’s note: i’ve had this idea in my head for a while so thank you anon for the perfectly timed request! also sorry for writing so much jealous!declan i can’t help myself

-

you were sat in the passenger seat of declan’s car. the cramped space and awkward tension had you wanting to curl up and disappear.

you were on your way back to the office after a little field trip to watch a polo match.

but, this wasn’t just a fun outing. it was for work.

venturer had been pushing hard to get polo televised on their network but they just couldn’t secure a contract with the local club– rupert’s club.

it was absolutely maddening how hard to get they were playing.

rupert was fuming after the second obnoxiously fancy dinner proposal ended in a “i’m not quite sure this will be a good fit old pal” from the head of the club.

he was determined to get the sport on his station, and after the second embarrassing rejection; he birthed a brilliant scheme.

ready to put his plan into action, he waltzed right into your office the very next day– well declan’s office.

being that venturer was so new and space was limited you had your own little makeshift workspace in the room that once completely belonged to declan. though, he didn’t mind sharing one bit; he rather enjoyed your company.

“i need you to join us at the polo match tomorrow.” rupert was all but demanding of you as he strolled into the room.

you knew him and declan were going to the club during lunch– you had declan’s schedule memorized; but why were you now invited?

“i don’t know anything about polo rupert.” the statement came out as more of a question.

“maybe not, but you’ve got something declan and I don’t, and i think it may help persuade our friends over at the rutshire polo club.”

he’s grinning from ear to ear as he speaks, his eyes carefully darting to your chest that was currently showing a bit too much underneath your button-up blouse.

you subtly adjust your posture so your cleavage isn’t so obvious.

“oh my god you can’t be serious.” you’re gawking at rupert and the notion that he wants you to join them purely for sex appeal.

“c’mon lots of young attractive single men on horses. you should be thanking me for the invite.” his tone is charming as always while he offers you a nudge on the shoulder.

“oh and wear something low cut.” he’s winking your direction and gliding out the door as his voice follows behind him.

you’re frozen in shock and amusement. a smile lingering on your face from the abrupt yet undeniably flattering exchange.

you went back to your work but caught a glimpse of declan first. his eyes trained on the doorway, brows furrowed and his jaw clenched.

that’s how you ended up in his car, letting him drive you to and from the polo club.

it was a successful trip.

after watching the match you declan, and rupert got to chat with a few of the members. you were sure to use your charisma and womanly assets to charm the whole lot.

it was almost as if they’d never seen a woman before. they were all eating out of your hand as you talked about the ins and outs of television programming.

you’d be remised not to mention how their stares politely lingered on the blush of your cheeks and the plunging neckline of your dress.

nonetheless rupert’s plan worked.

after one modestly flirty conversation with the head of the club where you promised to co-produce their matches, he was shaking hands with the three of you ready to do business.

rupert had stayed to share drinks in celebration, but you and declan had work to do, so you offered your pleasantries and the two of you piled into his car alone.

“i just can’t believe rupert had you do that.” declan’s voice was a little too loud for the confined space of the car as he spoke.

he was seemingly angry and impatient the whole afternoon. declan was usually so easy going and pleasant around you, his unusual demeanor today left you confused.

“does he not understand you have a serious job?”

he was focused on the road ahead of him as his grip tightened on the wheel.

“it’s okay declan, it was fun.” you were reassuring him with a gentle voice, hoping to calm him down a bit.

“fun? it’s fun having men degrade you like that?”

there was no mistaking the annoyance in his words.

you were too stunned to speak. declan had never spoken to you like this.

“i mean jesus, they were drooling all over you. doesn’t help that you decided to wear the worlds tiniest dress.”

he’s angry, he’s annoyed, he’s huffing and puffing and his words come out harsher than he intends.

“excuse me?” now you’re the one raising your voice.

“are you implying that just because my dress is a little revealing-“

your speaking but declan’s loud scoff cuts you off.

“a little revealing? darlin’ that thing leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination.” he’s retorting back from the drivers seat, shooting you a snarky glare.

“have you stopped to think for one second that maybe i like the attention? maybe i like how powerful i am in my tiny little dress.” your mocking his words and crossing your arms over your chest, causing your breasts to spill out of your dress even further.

“also you’re right i do have a serious job and i’m really fucking good at it seeing as though i was able to do in one afternoon what you and rupert couldn’t do in weeks.”

your voice is calm now as you stand your ground against the man beside you.

“why do you care anyway declan? why does it bother you so much what other men think of me. you’re begginning to sound like an overprotective father.”

you’re poking and prodding at him with your words and his whole body is tense, you can sense it even from the other side of the car.

“i just think it’s ridiculous, the way they were gawking at you. it’s like all they could see you for was a pretty smile and a pair of tits.”

his voice was quiet now and a tender look of remorse washed over his face.

“i hope you know you’re so much more than that.” he looks in your direction and you can just barely catch the longing look in his eyes.

there’s the declan that you know– gentle and composed.

you had grown very fond of him over the short time you’ve spent together. sharing laughs and deep conversations in that small office of his. he was so different; so kind and respectful, so unlike the men you had been surrounded by today.

“were you jealous declan?” you can’t help but grin at the question falling from your lips.

you weren’t oblivious to declan’s equal interest in you. he tried to hide the secret glimpses he took of your body or the way he would sometimes stare too long when you spoke, getting lost in your eyes.

he wanted to play all high and mighty like he was better than those polo boys who couldn’t peel their eyes from your curves, but declan was just envious that he couldn’t be so obvious about his own attraction toward you.

he’d had enough. he was at his breaking point. he couldn’t sit around and pretend anymore; pretending like he didn’t have feelings for you, pretending that he didn’t think about you all of the the time, pretending that he didn’t want you.

with one quick maneuver declan was pulling the car to the side of the empty country road and putting it in park.

“you know what, fine i’m jealous.”

he takes his hands off the wheel and turns his body to face yours.

“i’m jealous of all those young men lined up for your attention.”

he’s staring intently as he speaks to you, his voice unwavering.

“i’m extremely jealous that they’re all half my age and you could have your pick at any one of em.”

his deep feelings for you are flooding his gaze and you’re entranced by the affectionate glimmer in his eyes.

"I'm jealous because I want what I can't have."

“is that what you want to hear?” he raises his brows at you and finally his mouth shuts, falling into a straight line.

you look at him. sitting in defeat after his confession, completely at your mercy.

you want to kiss the insecurities right off his lips. and so you do.

as soon as you're grabbing at his shirt collar to pull him closer, his hands are on your face doing the same.

your lips find each other in a needy embrace and the feel of him immediately clouds your brain.

his hands are gentle as they cup your cheeks but the movement of his lips on yours is desperate and hungry. he’s kissing you like he’s been deprived of your taste.

you’re meeting his energy with an equally aggressive and passionate response, intertwining your fingers in his hair.

your action illicits a soft groan from his lips, deepening the kiss.

he’s gliding his tongue over the threshold of your lips and you can feel your torso melting into him, molding to his touch.

the connection between you is sweltering and intense. it’s consuming every part of you and all you want to do is move the heated exchange to the backseat of the car where there’s slightly more room.

all the while, declan’s hold remains on your face– tender and innocent. he wants nothing more than to explore the curve of your body with his hands and trail his lips down your neck to your overly exposed chest, but he doesn’t.

it takes every ounce of composure in his body, but declan is determined to stay true to himself. to be respectful and civil. to show you he’s not like the other men in this town. to show you that his interest in you goes far beyond lust.

at least he’s trying his best to be chivalrous, but the way you’re pulling on his hair has him second guessing his own intentions.

he’s about ready to give in and take you in the backseat of his car when a prolonged honk causes him to jump back to his position at the wheel.

a truck was passing and laying on their horn, surely annoyed by the placement of declan’s car on the side of the road.

both of you had assumed your spots in your respective seats, breathing heavily from the passionate kiss and the sudden fright from the loud noise.

"back to the office then?"

declan's words are rushed as he puts his car back in drive. he's looking straight ahead but you can see the satisfied grin on his lips.

you let your head fall back on your seat, unable to wipe the dopey smile off your face.

there was plenty of time ahead of you to discuss what just happened. for now all you want to do is watch the english countryside passing by your window and feel the touch of declan's lips still lingering on yours.

my masterlist

[mpregbuck]

bucktommy ficlet thingy: coffeeshop AU, age gap.

AU where 22yo Evan Buckley is still in Pennsylvania, (and out as bisexual already) who is barely making his way through community college but holds a steady job at a mom & pop coffee shop down on main street.

p.s. i wrote this all on my phone in one sitting so if there’s mistakes no there isn’t. enjoy.

Evan’s job is his solace, his happy place away from home ever since Maddie had stopped visiting and calling, at least not as often as she used to. It was good work, decent pay and hell he even kinda enjoyed it.

He’s working the front counter one day when the hottest, most gorgeous, the most handsome man he’s ever seen in his life steps up to order. For a moment, he’s lost his ability to speak which is how the two end up staring at each other awkwardly for a couple of seconds. He’s older. Probably a little too much older. His hair is wavy but styled neatly up top, silver peppering through his darker strands and the stubble on his face. He’s wearing a pair of glasses, perched on his perfectly sloped nose. He smiles a little and Evan is suddenly coming back to earth but not before he admires the way the lines around his eyes crinkle up like he’s sure the man has done a million times over through his life.

“Am I good to order?” He asked and Evan is laughing softly, though his face is bright red and burning as he grabs the little sharpie by the register.

“Yes, yeah. Sorry, it’s been a long day.”

“I’m sure. You’ve probably been getting a lot more traffic since Picasso’s shut down.”

Evan sighed with relief, because it’s true they’ve been swamped with a lot more busy mornings since the other coffee shop on the street closed a few weeks ago. “You have no idea.”

“Sorry to be one of those people. Starbucks is just *no* and I think I’d rather drink muddy water than go to Dunkin.”

Evan’s laughing again and the guy is smiling with amusement. “It’s fine, the more the merrier. So…what can I get you?”

“Can I get a red eye with just a small splash of whole milk?”

Evan puts it into the register and writers it down onto the cup, repeating it to himself as he did. “And a name?”

“Tommy.”

Tommy. “Tommy, got it.” Writing his name felt weirdly exhilarating. He puts a smiley face next to it for good measure before wimping out knowing he definitely was going to think about it the rest of the night and feel embarrassed about it.

He lets Tommy swipe his card to put his order through and got to work on the drink.

Listen, Evan liked his job well enough and he never really slacked off but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t being insanely meticulous making the easiest order possible for Tommy.

He topped the drink off with a small splash of whole milk just like Tommy said and brought it to the little pick-up counter. “Here you are.” Evan said as he went to set the drink down but Tommy’s grabbing it from his hand. Their fingers brush and Evan isn’t thinking about it because how juvenile would that be?

“Thank you. How late are you guys open by the way?”

Evan blinked and looked away when the bell on the door rang as another customer stepped inside. “We’re open until nine, Sir.”

“Great, thanks. Have a good day, Evan.”

That wouldn’t be the last time Evan sees Tommy. In fact he was back the next day, though with a much less intense order before he’s holing up in the corner of the shop on his laptop. In fact, Tommy becomes a new regular at the shop, either ordering his regular black coffee or something so caffeinated it makes Evan feel like he’ll start to get palpitations just making it. It just depended on the day or rather his mood.

Evan figured he must be working, hunched over his laptop, rubbing his eyes from under his glasses every so often. He wondered what he did for a job. The two didn’t get to speak often but every time they did always felt charged. It was hard to tell though, if Tommy was actually flirting back with him or if he was just being nice. Usually he never had any issues picking up what someone was putting down but Tommy. Tommy made Evan feel like he was melting into a puddle just from his mere presence. It was unlike any crush he’d ever had.

One night as Evan’s closing, he makes his rounds around the shop clearing tables, wiping them down as his coworker cleaned up the front counter. He gets to Tommy’s table where the man looks up from his laptop and checks his watch, which for some reason made Evan’s go a little insane since.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize the time.”

“It’s fine! There’s still 30 minutes ‘til we’re technically closed, just getting a head start.” Evan bit at his lip, looking down to where Tommy was packing his things up.

“Still, I might be old but I try not to be like all the other assholes who think coming in five minutes before close is totally okay to do.” Tommy chuckled softly to himself.

“Pfft, you’re not that old.” Evan scoffed, leaning on the table with a little teasing grin as Tommy zipped up his bag. He’d found out only a few weeks ago that Tommy was 40 when he’d come in and mentioned it was his birthday.

“My back would argue that.”

That made Evan laugh and Tommy gave him that look he always did, the same one he’d given him the first time they’d met.

“Well, I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Uhm-!” He didn’t know why he sounded so distressed, mentally smacking himself in the face as Tommy looked up at him.

“Yes?”

“Sorry, I uh…Sorry. I don’t even know if you’re—and I’m now realizing how stupid this is.” What in the hell am I doing? He thought to himself. Was he seriously trying to ask him out? Just randomly like that with no thought behind it? “You know what, forget I even came over here.”

“Evan.”

He’d only just turned around when Tommy said it, stopping in his tracks. “Yeah?”

“Are you free this Saturday?”

That has Evan turning around so fast he’s sure to give himself whiplash. “Saturday?”

“Yeah, are you working?”

“No.” His heart is pounding in his chest.

“Would you want to get dinner with me?”

Evan felt like everything swirling around him and suddenly he very aware of his every movement, shifting his weight from one side to the other. “Like a date?”

“Like a date.” Tommy smiled and his eyes crinkled.

Evan was going to die. “Yes.” He was seriously going to die. Seriously.

“Great. Let me, hmm…” Tommy felt around and pulled a pen out from his bag and grabbed a napkin from the table. He jotted down what Evan could only assume was his number and handed it over to him. “Text me and we can work the details.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Evan started to laugh and Tommy did it again. The look. “Sorry, it’s just, I’ve been wanting to ask you out for weeks but had no clue—“

“Evan, you’re adorable.”

His face was beet red again.

“Text me, alright?”

“I will, get home safe.”

“You too.”

Evan watched Tommy leave that night and texted him the moment he was home.

One date turned into two dates. Two turned into four and four turned into eight. It’s a month into dating that Evan asked if Tommy was his boyfriend to which Tommy laughed and asked him if he wanted him to be. Of course he said yes. It’s two months into dating that Evan tells his parents he’s seeing someone, a guy, and it’s another month before they’re asking when they’ll get to meet him.

”He’s a little older…”, “Well, does he make you happy?”, “Yes.”, “Then I don’t see how a few years is anything to raise concern for.”

What Evan didn’t mention was a few years was actually eighteen. Maybe they didn’t need to know. It was probably better they didn’t actually.

It’s another month after that, four months into dating Tommy that Evan is pacing around the front door waiting for Tommy to knock on the door. It felt a little ridiculous, like he was 14 again and introducing his first girlfriend to his parents. Except this is a lot more real, a lot more serious.

Knock, Knock, Knock.

Evan is quick to open the door, seeing Tommy standing there in his signature henley top, glasses perched right on his nose as always and a warm smile. The two share a quick kiss before he’s pulling Tommy inside, nervous as hell but…his parents were trying, so Evan was trying.

He walks them into the dining area where his mom is still setting the table and his dad is in the kitchen. “Uhm, mom, dad. This is Tommy.”

“Oh, it is so nice to finally meet you, we—“ Margaret had started before Phillip walked into the room, a bit stunned.

“Mr. Kinard?”

“Mr. Buckley.”

The room suddenly felt tense. Weird. His mother looking back and forth between the two before her hand is coming up to cover her mouth as she gasped.

Then, his dad turned to him, with a look he couldn’t quite discern.

“Evan. Is there a reason you’ve brought home my coworker as your boyfriend?”

end.

notes since a lot of details are missing: Tommy and Phillip are both teachers at the same school. Buck being Buck never thought to put two and two together. I use “Evan” because I feel like it and it’s an AU where none of the 118 is even present so 💃 I’d love to read this as an actual well thought out fanfic but I’m simply unable to force myself to write one, the idea is free reign thought for anyone who’d like to.