#tagging stuff this time because you guys need to hear something like this

[idkbishsss]

The way people would rather ship Cassian with K2 than Bix who is an actual person with whom he had a real relationship is so weird, just say you all hate women and go

I think it’s a preference. No one’s saying they hate women. I think it’s a bit weird to ship a droid and a human. But I could see why people would like it. I ship Bix and Cassian, I feel like it could work. But I do have a preference for Jyn x Cassian then Bix x Cassian. And that’s fine, everyone has their own opinions about characters!

Also it’s a fictional ship! I don’t think it’s life or death if you ship one over the other

[skrunksthatwunk]

i just finished saw v and i don't have high hopes for the rest of the franchise (based on what ive heard) but im in too deep to stop now

[tiza0925]

Hello! I'm new to this but have you ever thought about any of your favorite characters while they're in the act and you look down at a certain part and they're so big on you that it scares you but they're pretty sure it could fit.I don't know if you could write something like that, sorry if it makes you uncomfortable.

hellooo, absolutely love this prompt so much ty for this ♡

men that make it fit | 18+

warnings/tags: nsfw, afab/female!reader, size difference, fingering, pet names, praise kink, squirting, raw sex, implied multiple orgasms, large cocks ♡

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Big men who just cover your entire body with theirs when they’re on top of you. 

Guys who make you feel so small when you’re on their lap, their hands are so damn big that they can cover your entire waist, legs, and hands—practically engulfing you. 

Big men that just pin you to the mattress while making out with you, they’re so strong without needing to try, and you probably should feel scared by the difference in strengths but god—you feel so secure. 

And you know he’ll take care of you even if he can hurt you sometimes—never on purpose unless you want it—because of how massive he is. 

Guys who feel just a little bad when they hear you cry from them pushing their thick fingers inside you—stretching your poor cunt and making you leak all over his hand as he curls his fingers inside your plush walls, coaxing out a throbbing orgasm from you. 

“Such a sweet little thing for me,” You hear him murmur, watching as your face twists with pleasure, and he can see the slight worry in your eyes as he fucks you with his fingers. “My baby is taking me so well already.” 

But can you take his cock? 

Fuck—what if it’s too big? 

It must be—his fingers are already too much for you—his dick will be nearly impossible to fit inside you. 

“You think you can be good and take my cock?” You whine, feeling heady and muddy as he pins both of your hands above your head on the bed, while his other hand continues to twist and curl inside you, his thumb pressing and rubbing your swollen clit. “I want to feel my favourite pussy, sweetheart.” 

But you suck in a shaky breath, eyes wide and scared because you know you can’t fit all of him in, and he chuckles breathlessly as he kisses your lips so softly, making you melt against him. 

“Don’t be scared,” He kisses your cheek, then gives your trembling lower lip a gentle pull with his mouth, trying to get you relaxed as he strums his fingers through your sopping folds, his voice low and deceptively soothing. “I’ll be gentle with you, okay?” 

He always is—and that’s the thing. 

No matter how gentle he tries to be—he still ends up stretching you so wide that you think you might actually split in half, the sting of him inside you being too much that you cry sometimes.

He kisses you, and reassures you, hand running up and down your body to spread goosebumps all over your skin. 

Then he’s pushing his pants off to let his fat cock bounce free—it lands on your belly, all hot and heavy, and your breath hitches as electricity sparks through your body—and your heart rate doubles with every passing moment, just waiting for him to stuff you with his cock. 

“Relax for me,” He says while guiding his dick to slide between your plush pussy, letting your slick folds hug his length and coat them in juices as he rocks his hips—his cock head bumping against your clit every time his hips are flushed against yours. 

“You feel that, baby?” Your lashes flutter, your eyes half-lidded as he works you up, making your cunt pulse as he glides his heavy cock over it. “You’re gonna be so good and fit all of me, okay?” 

You gulp, but you still nod—because you want to be good for him. 

You want to feel him and make him feel good. 

And he watches you, focused, taking in every twitch of your features as he slowly pushes the head of his dick inside you—his eyes alight with heat when he sees the way your mouth pops open with a gasp, already feeling the intense stretch of him. 

“You’re okay, baby,” he shushes you, sliding his hands under your thighs to guide them around his waist, and you whine as you hook your arms around his neck, bringing him closer, sloppily kissing him as he waits for you to adjust. “You feel so tight already—fuck—”

He groans, his voice vibrating against you, and you begin to breathe heavily as he pushes his fat cock into you—making you feel every agonizing inch as your pussy struggles to swallow him whole. 

“I—“ Your sentence gets cut short as you choke, already feeling him in your lungs and he’s only halfway in, “I can’t—”

“You can,” One of his hands comes up to swipe a fallen tear on your cheek with his thumb, while his other hand pins you to the bed by the waist. “I know you can, baby, you always did before.”

Which is true—you always did but—

It’s just so fucking big—holy shit—

You bite your lip, and your eyes squeeze shut as you try your hardest to relax—your fluids being pushed out as he lodges his dick inside your warm, plush walls, causing a wet mess all over your thighs and bed. 

You hold him as if you’re clinging onto dear life—taking all of him as he kisses you through it—until his hips finally press against your ass, his cock so deep that your limbs grow numb and you swear you can orgasm already. 

“There you go, sweetheart,” He purrs, waiting a moment as your pussy throbs around him, feeling abused and soaked, and he smiles down at you so achingly soft. “Taking me all like a good girl for me.” 

Then he pulls back—

“Oh god—” And you keen when he rocks his hips forward, sliding his cock along your walls, and he sets a pace of fucking you—getting you wet and your eyes to roll back as he becomes greedy with your pussy. 

“Look, baby,” He grunts, thrusting his cock in and out, his length coming out slick and creamy from your arousal, and he grips your face—fingers squishing your cheeks—to make you look down. “Look how well you’re taking me.” 

Your vision is foggy, you’re barely able to comprehend anything except for the dick inside your sore cunt, and you blink blearily as you try to look at what he wants you to see and—

Fuck.

You watch the way his cock disappears into your pussy, his girth forcing its way into you—and you let out a shaky breath at the way you’re taking it all in. 

Just like he said you would. 

“Told you I’ll make it fit, sweetheart, I always do,” You hear him murmur, and you force yourself to relax into a ragged breath as your limps melt into the mattress beneath you.

You feel like you’re being split in half as he fucks you over and over, bringing you higher and higher until you’re cumming all over him—gushing out liquid as you squirt on his cock with a wet moan, his name on your tongue—

And he takes good care of you throughout it all. His aftercare overwhelms you with cuddles of love and affirmation.

He loves you too much, anyway.

End.

Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, Atsumu, Suna, Gojo, Choso, Sakusa, Geto, Sukuna, Nanami, Akaza, Oda, Kuroo, Hinata, plus any of your fav characters ♡

Masterpost

[anisespice]

“ block boy ” || tokyo rev.

parings: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, kaku, sanzu, rin, ran ]

warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. cursing, mentions of violence, blood, pregnancy mentioned in ran’s, a lot of down bad behavior on both ends lol and i think that’s it.

notes: i pledge allegiance to doechii, and the absolute banger of a song that is “what it is”. literally the first thing i thought of was bonten and couldn’t get ‘em out of my head unless i wrote something down sooo here ya go lol 

notes ii: basically times where you pulled their weight when they least expected you to/when they’re not around. called the shots, took some shots, beat someone up, defended them, loving on them, stuff like this (•3•>)

tagged: @fantasycantasy, @illegalspacecow, @captaincyberqueen

“Did the severity of the situation finally click in your thick skulls, or do I have to waste more of my breath spelling it out for you?”

When MIKEY returned from his much needed evening snooze in the break room you threatened sweetly advised him to take after working for 17 hours straight, he was expecting to return to the shitstorm he left behind. However, when he entered his office, to his muted surprise there you were, in the middle of berating a handful of subordinates nearly twice your size, all shrunk within themselves as your sharp tone pierced through them all. He stood in the doorway with a curious gaze, head tilted ever so slightly as he made sure to keep quiet so not to notify you of his presence.

Mikey took note of your hip popped outward, balled fist rested upon it in the stance he knew all too well whenever you were on your last nerve. Knowing what those idiots did, someone was bound to stumble outta there in tears; your fury wasn’t for the weak.

You eyed the group with raised brows, expectant. “Well?”

One member was brave, or stupid enough to actually answer. He hesitated, but cleared his throat and replied, “I-It was an honest mistake…we thought the product was secured in the truck already when we made the exchange, b-but-”

“B-B—Bullshit. You were given specific instructions to check the inventory to make sure those smarmy assholes weren’t trying pull a fast one, and you were too careless to do a full sweep. You failed abortions not only made Bonten look like complete amateurs, but you added more nonsense for my man to deal with all because you didn’t check the back of the goddamn trucks!”

You flung the clipboard you were holding at the guy’s head, making them all duck around to avoid getting hit, only one unlucky sucker wasn’t as quick as the wooden projectile got him right in the nose. He yelped, no doubt it was broken with the sheer amount of force you put in the throw. Mikey barely flinched, but he did blink a few times in astonishment.

“You’re gonna hunt those fuckers down like dogs and make right of your ‘mistake’ by the end of today, or I’m gonna have Sanzu chop you into pieces and throw you in the Shinano River-!” Mikey cleared his throat.

You swiftly looked over your shoulder at the noise, mood doing a complete 180 when you locked eyes with the object of your affection, skittering over to wrap him in your arms. “Oh! Jiro, baby, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“‘s okay..” he leaned into your warmth, eyes hooded as he graced you with a faint, sleepy grin. “Didn’t want to interrupt your.. meeting. Seemed serious.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Just doing a little ‘housekeeping’ until you got enough rest, that’s all.”

He slowly nodded, lips pursed. “Could’ve sworn I pay good money for people to do that for me.”

“You do, but I was already here. Figured it was more productive to handle it myself rather than waste time looking for someone available. Besides, had to make sure you didn’t try to sneak your narrow butt back in here to continue working—We both know I’m the only one around here who can keep you in check.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

“Mm.. can’t say you don’t fill the role of boss rather nicely. It suits you. Should have you do it more often.”

Though you were sure he was teasing you, you couldn’t help but feel yourself grow warm at his praise. You lightly hit his arm, bashful. How this was the same woman who struck fear in a room full of criminals was beyond comprehension, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Speaking of which.. Mikey couldn’t help but notice the said group of subordinates silently begging for him to reconsider in his peripheral, hands clasped in prayer while the one with the busted nose bowed deeply to the floor, forehead to hardwood. It was as if the idea of you being in charge any longer brought them great despair. How interesting.

Huffing through his nose, Mikey placed a loving kiss on your forehead whilst eyeing the group behind majority of his stress for the day, void of any remorse as he coldly spoke.

“Matter of fact.. think ‘m still feeling a little tired, angel. How about you handle another hour f’me? Or two?”

The silence was deafening as the dual-color eyed man avoided looking at you while you stitched him up without a word. When you were greeted by a bleeding KAKUCHO at your doorstep a little past midnight, pale in the face and could barely stand, there were no questions asked as you quickly escorted him into your home, setting him gently on the couch before you sprung for your first aid in the kitchen. He wasn’t sure what he could say in that moment, feeling like a complete moron for even showing up looking like he fled a crime scene which he kinda did but that’s besides the point. Your relationship was still in the budding phase, just starting to get a feel of one another as you tested the waters.

Well, consider the waters tested.

“You’re not really an undercover cop, are you?”

Kakucho gulped. He slowly shook his head, eyes trained on his lap while yours felt like they were burning holes right through him. You nodded as you continued carefully stitching him up. It wasn’t the best, but it would hold him over until he got proper medical attention. At first, he figured that would be all you said to him. But, when you completed dressing the wound, you asked a follow up question. “It’s something illegal, isn’t it?”

He couldn’t bring himself to answer, his strained grip on his pant leg enough response. Kakucho half expected you to berate him, curse him for potentially endangering your life, for lying.

“.. forgive me..” he croaked, bowing his head.

He felt sick to his stomach, he couldn’t bear the thought of you despising him, but he’d honor your wishes without protest if you never wanted to see him again…

However, what he didn’t expect was for you cup the sides of his face and bring his wavering gaze to your soft one. You smiled endearingly at the bewilderment that overcame his ashamed expression, him blinking at you widely with tears hanging onto his lashes like a wounded puppy. Your thumb ghosted over the tiny droplets, careful not to aggravate the bruise forming around the socket.

Leaning forward to shower him with tender kisses, Kakucho was at a crossroad—One side wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle of goo, but the other refused to believe that he wasn’t hallucinating, waiting for the sick twisted punchline of this dream come true. Feeling him still so tense in your hold, you leaned back with your smile still present.

“This doesn’t change how I feel about you, Hitto.”

Kakucho blinked. Then, he meekly replied. “W-what?”

You coyly tilted your head, “To be honest, I always figured there was something…off about you. Like, you were holding something back. My first guess was that you were seeing other women-”

“Never.” His eyes switched from uncertain to stern in a matter of seconds, as if the implication alone repulsed him. He softened once you giggled at his declaration, patting his leg in reassurance.

“I know. You’re much too sweet to be a player. I pondered over it for a while, thought back to how we usually met up late at night, or you would have to leave at odd times. My second guess was your work just kept you really busy.. and after tonight.. after all of this,” you gestured at the blood stains everywhere, “safe to say I was on the right track.”

Kakucho hesitated. “And that doesn’t…put you off?”

“That you’re a thug?” He winced, but nodded. The silence that followed behind was borderline suffocating, leaving his hands sweaty and nerves shot as he anticipated your response with baited breath. But, he didn’t need to worry.

With a loving coo, you placed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, right over the split in his lip causing him to flinch slightly at the sting, but he welcomed the affection all the same. However, when your warm tongue peeked out to soothe the cut in slow, teasing swipes, homie nearly choked.

Kaku’s jaw fluttered open as a soft gasp escaped him next, the sensation foreign but not unpleasant as he felt his entire face heat up like a furnace. Your sudden proximity forced him back on the couch while you slid down to the floor betwixt his spread legs, making his head spin; this wasn’t going like how he thought it would at all. Being careful of his stitches, your arms rested on either side of him as your tongue explored his mouth, making him groan softly at the feeling of the wet muscle tangling around his so earnestly, hand reaching up instinctively to caress the side of your face as he deepened the kiss. His other hand held your waist, gripping your shirt as if he couldn’t believe you were there—That you wanted to stay.

The ravenette’s breath hitched when he felt one of your hands trailing up his thigh, slowly but surely making your way to his stiffening cock confined in his pants. Slightly startled, Kakucho pulled back from the heated kiss, a string of saliva still keeping you connected as you panted in each other’s mouths. Before he could question what you were up to, he cuts himself off with a whimper when you palmed his thick shaft while maintaining intense eye contact, a smile on your face as you sent the gangster into paradise when you sweetly whispered:

“Always wanted to be a ride or die.”

It was as if someone pushed him into an alternate dimension.

Not even moments ago, you were showing SANZU a cute tiktok of a kitten wrapped up like a burrito and mewing dramatically, nearly tearing up at the sight as you tugged on his arm and pleaded for him to buy you one just like it. Having bought out the entire evening in one of Tokyo’s most exclusive five star restaurants for your anniversary, Sanzu figured it’d be nothing more than a simple night with his lovely wife. Man’s must’ve forgot who he was.

When those fools tried an ambush on him, Sanzu was more than happy dealing with them quickly by just airing them out until his gun was empty. Although, as he went reaching for it, imagine his shock when you held his wrist to stop him. You had a different sentiment.

It was like a scene out of one of his most crazed fantasies. His lovely wife, holding his beloved katana to an enemy’s throat, covered in the blood of his comrades as he sobbed pathetically for you to spare him. As if Beatrix Kiddo entered the chat, you sliced into them with a swiftness, shredding through them all like paper; a dinner and a show. He wasn’t sure when you learned how to wield the weapon with such grace and precision, but he couldn’t care less when his pants were this fucking tight. But he couldn’t let you have all the fun, watching your six any time a goon tried to get the jump on you while your back was turned, Sanzu was quick to bust a cap right between their eyes. After spilling gallons of blood from the opposition, leaving one still standing, you decided to play with him a little bit.

“P-Please! I-if you let me go, you’ll never see my face again, I-I swear! I was just..just following orders, I-”

“Oh, c’mon, where’s your conviction from earlier, huh? You were so confident before I minced all your friends. What was it you said you’d do to me once you killed my husband? Can’t seem to put my finger on it…Haru, darling, do you recall?”

Sanzu, with his chin placed atop his interlocked fingers like a smitten fool, smoothly answered, “Said he’d ‘Fuck you raw on top of my corpse’.”

You winked. “Bingo. Thank you, handsome.”

“Welcome, gorgeous.”

The sniveling man yipped when the blade nicked his skin, a thin stream of blood flowing in its wake as you pressed it closer to his throat. His heart rate paced like a rabbit caught in a trap, nostrils flaring as he breathed sporadically while his life laid in the palm of your hand.

“Guess that didn’t go according to plan, aw.” You sardonically cooed, spurring on a bit of rage as he gritted out a dry ‘Fuck you’ in his final efforts of showing dominance. “Oo, there’s that passion we were missing!~ Let’s see how much more I can carve outta yo-”

Hearing the sound of faint sirens in the distance, Sanzu clicked his tongue in annoyance. With a grumble the pinkette popped a piece of his steak in his mouth and spoke between chews as he cocked his gun, “Alright, [_____], playtime’s over. We gotta haul ass.”

You pouted. “But, we didn’t get to fuck on top of his corpse...”

Sanzu swallowed, hard. He couldn’t help but internally groan with desire at your innocent display of vulgarity, tempted to take you up on that offer, but the last thing he wanted was for you to be involved in a standoff with the cops. You’ve proven you can handle yourself very well, a lot more than he realized that’s for sure, but you were still his precious baby at the end of the day.

Better to keep you out of danger than thrust you in more of it, no matter how much the thought excited him.

“Next time, pretty baby.”

You huffed. “Fine.”

Without hesitation, you strummed the man’s throat like a cello, the katana tearing through the skin with ease. The symphony of gurgles that escaped him sent shivers down Sanzu’s spine as he watched in manic glee as the man choked on his own blood. You never looked more stunning covered in red and holding his blade like it belonged in your hand, he wanted nothing more than to ravish you on the spot, but as the sirens drew near he tamed his urges just this once. You took his extended hand gratefully, swaying them as you both rushed for the restaurant’s back exit.

Once outside, while he scoped out the area for any cops patrolling, you nudged him. When he turned to see you beaming at him whilst blood stained your face, he swore his heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“You’re getting me a kitten to make up for this, right, Haru?”

He raised a brow, but exhaled a chuckle. “Sweetheart. Show off that violent side of yours more often, and you can have as many as you want.”

“You good, ma?” A delightful shiver ran down your spine and straight to your pussy.

That was always the visceral response your body had whenever RINDOU spoke, especially low and intimately in your ear. From either gently waking you first thing in the morning, or to secretly shit-talk in crowed areas, it was his go-to method to getting your attention effortlessly. A dangerous method, one that was about to make you act up in front of all these important clients, decorum be damned.

“I am now,” you purred, falling back into his embrace as strong arms came vining around your waist. He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple as he gently swayed you both to the rhythm of the soft jazz playing over the speakers of the ballroom.

“Missed me that bad, huh.” You nodded with a slight pout, turning in his hold to stare up longingly into his eyes. They were lidded, heady. Another dangerous method of your husband’s that made you weak in the knees—his undivided attention. “Bored?”

“So fucking bored,” you whined, tugging on his lapels. “These things are always such a drab..”

Rindou hummed, hands slowly slipping down from your waist to hold your hips. You tensed slightly, not even bothering to mask the second shiver it caused. His grin turned sharp in response, head tilting. “Ya sure that’s what has you so out of it?”

You tilted yours, confused. He continued, “You’re not as subtle as you think you are. You’ve been eye-fucking me for the past ten minutes. Came over to make sure you weren’t dripping all over the damn floor—”

“Shut up,” you jabbed him in the side, face boiling. Rindou barely flinched, squeezing your hips as he snickered cheekily at your embarrassment. “You’re so irking...”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. If you knew I was horny, I could’ve been folded on my back ten minutes ago.”

“Hm, almost as if I was doing something important, like…” he trailed off, making you squint and almost jab him again until he grabbed your hand in the last second, bringing it to his chest with a smug grin, “working.”

You huffed, “I’m important too…do me.”

Rindou snorted, but brought your hand up to gently kiss the inside of your wrist with a tender look in his eyes. “‘course you are, baby. Didn’t know it would go for this long, ‘m sorry.”

“Then, how ‘bout you and I take a little…smoke break,” you suggested, hopeful; desperate. However, it’s futile when your husband clicks his tongue.

“No can do. Kakucho’s still not over the last time we took a ‘smoke break’ together.”

“He’s not? Seriously? We weren’t even gone for that long!”

He raised a brow. “[______]. The check made it back to the table before we did.”

You groaned, exasperated as you wiggled around in his hold. Rindou merely watched in mirth, not even phased as he let you finish your tiny tantrum. He teasingly cooed, “I know, I know. Poor thing can’t go a day without something plugging up her slutty little hole.”

“Shut up..!” You shrunk into his chest to hide away from the sultry words spoken directly in your ear, thighs clenching together as his deep chuckle came soon after.

Rindou was very much aware of your voice kink. It filled his ego to the brim with how needy you were, crumbling anytime he so much as spoke to you in a certain way. There’s nothing he wanted more than to ditch and bury himself in your thighs, giving it to you however you wished, for as long as you wished, whispering praises to you with a sprinkle of degradation in there to keep you craving for more of his soothing voice. But, unless he wanted his nuts handed to him on a silver platter by his stickler of a superior, you were just gonna have to wait.

And he knew how much you hated doing that.

“Ten minutes.”

He sighed. “[_____]…”

“Five minutes?”

“We can’t-“

“A minute, god, I don’t even have to finish, Rin, please.” You whined in his ear, forcing him to close his eyes as a means to strengthen his resolve. It didn’t do much help when your arms wrapped around his neck to gently rake your manicured nails against the nape, your thigh deliberately rubbing up against the growing erection confined in his dress pants. The tables had turned with a shiver now running down his spine, mind turning to mush as common sense slowly sunk into his dick. Maybe…sparing just a few minutes wouldn’t hurt.

Even though the lavender-haired gangster couldn’t see your face, he was certain you were grinning victoriously at the sound of his resolve breaking instantly, the slow exhale through his nose being all the confirmation necessary. Clearly, you weren’t the only one who was needy.

Swallowing down a groan, he hissed through clenched teeth, “You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know that?”

Giggling, you were already leading him toward the nearest exit, swiftly evading the eyes of his coworkers, satisfied that you were getting exactly what you wanted in the end.

“Better me than Kaku.”

“Like I’ve already explained to you, Officer. My husband’s been here all day. Dunno if you’ve noticed, but he can’t exactly afford to leave my side for more than ten minuets let alone an entire evening.”

Despite gesturing to your swollen stomach and the small child shyly peering from behind your leg, the cop still fixed you with a skeptical look. You did your best to remain unnerved, providing comfort for not only your son but yourself as you ran your fingers through his hair. Apparently, there had been a shootout that happened in the streets of Tokyo, and apparently a witness was able to describe one of the shooters…

Henceforth, the unexpected visit from law enforcement. Again.

“Mhm. And, may I ask, where exactly your husband is now? Surely if he’s been tending to his pregnant wife, he wouldn’t have her answering the front door.” He raised an eyebrow, wry grin stretched across his face.

You worked your jaw, annoyed. “In the shower.”

“How convenient. Washing off the blood, I assume?”

“You can assume whatever you want, it doesn’t change my answer. He’s been here, with us. Whoever said they saw him was mistaken. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got mouths to feed. Have an evening, Officer.”

“Now, hold on—”

Without an ounce of hesitation, or care, you slammed the door in his smug little face. And just like that…blissful silence. A grand weight lifted off your shoulders at the disgruntled sound of the pig’s flat-footed steps exiting out of your day. Releasing a slow exhale, your son took it upon himself to blow a raspberry at the closed door, having worked up the courage to mock the officer now that he was out of sight.

You grinned as you ruffled his hair, endearingly. “You tell ‘em, baby.”

However, that silence didn’t last long as RAN made himself known now that the coast was clear. Having hid around the corner in case things escalated, he too released an exhale, easy grin spreading across his face. Though your child was happy to see him, racing to cling onto his long legs, you merely glared in disapproval. Based off his appearance alone, disheveled and glistening with sweat, you wished your fib from earlier was true; he needed a shower.

“[S/n], don’t touch daddy right now���he stinks.”

Though a bit childish in your phrasing, Ran was well aware it held an underlying meaning, a chill running down his spine under your harsh scrutiny. He cleared his throat, somewhat nervous, as he searched his brain for honeyed words that would soothe your soreness toward him. And he laid it on thick.

“That’s ‘cause Daddy had to run the rest of the way home to make sure his babies were safe,” he leaned down to scoop up the clinging child, lightly tickling at his stomach poking out from under his pajama shirt to receive more joyous squeals. “But, Mommy scared away the big, mean police man all on her own, didn’t she?”

“Yea!” [S/n] squeaked, bright laugh bouncing off the walls as he wiggled around eagerly. You felt the corner of your lip twitch upward at the sight, but you pursed your lips to hide the impending smile—Ran noticed. He always did.

“Yeah.. we’re real lucky to have someone as wonderful as her to watch our backs whenever we’re in trouble.. right, mama?”

Your glare still remained, though not as harsh compared to moments ago. Despite the mirth swirling in his lavender gaze, you took note of something else hiding within. Something more raw, more vulnerable.

Remorse.

Ran didn’t like getting you caught up in his business. He did everything he could to ensure that none of you were ever exposed to the ugly parts of his life. Tonight, he was sloppy. He fucked up, and he knew that. The second shit hit the fan, his only priority was his family… You had every right to be livid with him, having both your son and a pregnancy to deal with virtually on your own, while also covering his ass from prying cops itching to nail him to the wall…It’s a miracle how you haven’t packed up and left him yet…

And he thanks his lucky stars that you haven’t.

With another deep exhale, you rubbed your temple. “I don’t know what it is that you do in those streets to cause such an upset, Ran-”

“For the record, tonight wasn’t exactly my fault-”

“-and I don’t care. I just…”

Your exhausted tone was more than enough to shut him up. He felt his throat tighten as he gently bounced your son on his hip to distract his increasing anxiety. The lavender-haired man mentally prepared for your scolding, already set on sleeping in the dog house if that’s what got him in your good graces again…but it doesn’t come. Eyes that were hyper focused on [S/n] fiddling with his loosened tie slowly trailed up at the sound of you huffing in, what he assumed to be, relief.

Waddling over to your boys, you reached up to caress their faces. Instinctively, they nuzzled into your palms, Ran a little more hesitant than your beaming son before reaching out with his free hand to touch your stomach. When your unborn child kicked against it in response, you noticed his shoulders visibly relax. Your thumb gently rubbed under his eye, frowning at the dark circles that formed on the pale skin. He looked solemnly into your eyes, turning his head slightly to kiss the inside of your palm. You sighed once more, eventually granting him a smile in reassurance.

Despite his abnormal lifestyle, and how hectic it could get, “I’m just glad you’re home.”

© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[fairlyang]

Dirty ⚔️🐺

w/c: 1.9K

pairing: bfs!loganhowlett&wadewilson x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. filthy af, logan gets morning wood, wade strokes him, teasing, dirty talk x100, they’re pervs, wade gets a bright idea, somnophilia (dub-con!!!!), they play w you in your sleep, fingering, one finger from each men, waking up, pikachu shocked face, everyone cums

a/n: this idea came to me and i had to finish it. my phone is on 3 i nearly fell asleep writing it, it’s past 3 and i’m not wearing my glasses so not proofread have fun!

kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

being in a relationship with both wade and logan entailed lots of things. for starters they were both the horniest fucks ever and the tiniest thing could get them in the mood.

for instance, if one of them were to wake up with morning wood, the other two had to help because it’s your job to take care of each other, according to wade.

usually it was wade that woke up with a raging boner and would need assistance. he’d usually tap either one of you or just grind himself against you guys when he was really relentless.

but for this occasion, it happened to be logan that woke up with a hard on and he wanted to get rid of it himself because he actually felt bad about disrupting someone else’s sleep.

luckily for him wade was a light sleeper and could hear him trying to be quiet. he rubbed his eyes and turns to his right only to find him stroking himself through his boxers. “up so early, peanut?” he whispered, making logan stop his movements.

“shh you don’t gotta stop, here let me give you a hand..” he whispers and turns his body to him.

he brings his left hand to his chest, running it up and down then goes down to his abs because he uses any opportunity to do so. logan’s breathing was for the most part normal until wade went even lower but making sure he’s not touching him yet.

“don’t be a tease this early, bub.” logan groaned, making wade shush him.

“she’s still sleeping…” he whispers and points behind him.

he decided he’d listen to him for once and stuck his hand under logan’s boxers — reaching for his cock and slowly starting to stroke it. logan sighs and wade gets closer to him so his head was on the other man’s shoulder, “you know you can at least wake me up baby, we can’t always be so sure about princess aurora over there…”

logan chuckles and just nods, “next time..”

“geez did you snatch one of my wet dreams or something?” wade asks, turning to look at him while he went a tiny bit faster now.

“i might’ve, sure felt like something you’d like.” he answers, making wade hum, “what was it?”

“something like this.. and then stuff with our sleeping beauty over there while she slept.” he admits instantly making wade hard.

“didn’t think you’d have it in you.” wade teases and turns inwards to kiss his shoulder.

“what if we make it a reality?” he suggests and logan stays quiet.

“she’s been saying she’s down and has been wanting us to wake her up like that…” he whispers, making logan gulp.

his face burned red and he twitched in his hands too, an easy indicator to show that he loved the idea. “you like that huh?”

he still stayed silent. he felt like it was something he shouldn’t do or like but because of his confession, wade wasn’t going to let it go.

“so dirty…” he whispers and moves his head a bit up so his mouth is by his ear.

“don’t think of her stirring in her sleep while we touch her or grope those perfect fucking tits while she’s snoring..” he murmurs into his ear earning himself a muffled moan.

“let it out baby she won’t hear us.” he mutters before reaching over with his right hand to slide his boxers down.

“she’d sound so good wouldn’t she? she’d have no clue but her body will definitely react to our touch. bet she’d get soaked in an instant.” he purrs and logan finally lets out a moan.

wade started to stroke him faster and took a small break from his dirty talk to nibble on his earlobe. logan groaned and his eyes rolled to the back of his head in pleasure, it was amazing how well wade knew him. especially when it came to little things like that.

he started to kiss down his neck before stopping on the spot by his neck and shoulder and sucked on the skin. he pulled away, only able to admire it for a second before it healed itself.

a damn shame.

“so what do you think? have i convinced you?” he whispers making logan quickly nod.

wade quickly let his cock go and rolled to the opposite direction this time to face you. you were sleeping on your stomach with one leg lifted up and the other flat on the bed. he motioned to logan to get closer and he did.

wade adjusted himself by doing a whole 360 so his head was now by your ass. logan climbed over him and laid down with the space between you both. “now the real fun begins.” wade exclaims and brings a hand to your ass, first just squeezing it.

logan matched him and squeezed the other side before his hands started to rub down then coming back up. they both look up at you and you were out cold, as expected.

“we’ll be lucky if she even wakes up.” wade jokes making logan chuckle.

“she could probably sleep through a zombie apocalypse accidentally.” logan whispers back making wade gasp.

“i am so proud of you.” he says and pretends to wipe a tear.

“here what if we just…” logan mumbles and brings his right hand closer to your barely covered pussy.

you always wore a cute little pair of undies but you decided for a thong last night. a great choice for their perving eyes that couldn’t stop staring even if they wanted to.

logan’s hand hovered over your pussy, he stuck just his thumb out and started to rub your clit softly. you let out a small groan which was going to be enough for him to pull away if it weren’t for wades hand stopping him, “keep going.” he urged him and he listened.

he rubbed circles against your clit while wades hand went back up to squeeze the soft flesh of your ass. your breathing was still steady and neither of them were fretting about you waking up.

logan’s thumb went faster and you stirred then went back to letting out little snores. he moved his thumb up and he rubbed gently once again but this time feeling your arousal seep through the fabric. “already huh? she’s loving it.” wade whispers as he watched in awe.

“think she’ll come fast too?” logan whispers back and wade shrugs, “i hope so.”

wades hands went up to grab the thin fabric of the thong and pulled it over your ass slowly then trying to pull it even lower without waking you. once the fabric was off, your pussy glistened right in front of them.

“look at our dirty girl. who would’ve thought…” wade coos and leaves your thong hanging by the back of your legs.

“well we both technically could’ve..” logan mutters and wade just scoffs.

“but this fucking fast? it’s like niagara falls and we’ve barely even touched her.” he says and logan just shrugs, “that’s her superpower.”

“jesus you’re on a roll tonight baby.” he says with a wide grin while logan’s thumb went to its previous position.

he starts to rub your clit in circles and this time around, wade decides to help by teasing your entrance with one finger.

“if i somehow come before her, we stop.” he says and looks up at you.

you were were now slightly squirming subconsciously and moving your hips. “yeah i might bust soon.”

logan ignored him and continued rubbing your clit while wade matched his pace. he wanted to see how fast they could make you come.

they took turns fingering you and rubbing your clit, alternating every few minutes or when one would make you moan louder. they just wanted to make you feel good, even if it’d take you hours to wake up.

it was logan’s turn to finger you but wade just got ahead of himself and added his index finger with his and followed his pace. logan just watched as your pussy clenched against both their fingers and how you were dripping juices already, “wish we could be here for hours.” wade whispers and palms himself through his boxers with his free hand.

“it’s be so fun.” logan whispers back making wade smirk, “she’d enjoy it too..”

“c’mon baby, come for us.” logan murmured and slowed down, now curling his finger up while wade did the same.

your body was moving a bit more, squirming as if you wanted more than you were getting. meanwhile you were having such a vivid dream, it was slowly starting to feel a bit real.

your subconscious was slowly waking up but you had such a strong urge to pee, it felt weird. you felt an all too familiar sensation in your stomach and that’s when you fully woke up.

you moaned and rubbed your eyes before looking down and there were both your boyfriends fingering you. “morning sweet pea.” wade murmured and shot you a wink.

“morning princess.” logan cooed and you gave them a tired smile.

you couldn’t even speak, you were speechless.

both men were pumping their finger deeper inside you while maintaining a fast pace, making sure to drive you closer and closer to an orgasm.

“oh fuck-“ you moaned and tried to push your ass out so it can feel even better.

both men were now facing your ass, and were barely grinding themselves against the mattress because they had been too turned on and needed to feel something.

“c’mon baby, come for us. we’ve got you.” logan murmured, making your eyes flutter.

the pleasure felt so good and the fact they were doing it together did something to your brain. you were so close, you could just feel it in your lower belly and in the way your legs began to shake. “there ya go cupcake, just like that, let go for us.” wade coos earning himself a whimper.

all their words combined was enough for it to push you over the edge and you quickly held onto the sheets as they let you ride out your high with slower strokes with their fingers. your legs shook and your heartbeat rang in your ears as they stopped.

they pulled their fingers out of you slowly and they came out with a loud plop. wade quickly put his finger into his mouth and sucked it clean while logan just watched him in awe.

he pulls his finger out and sits up, scooting back so you could lay on him. he extends his arms and you turn and contort your body to lay on his chest. meanwhile logan kind of crawled up and into wades other arm, also laying on his chest while he caressed your face softly.

“let’s just go back to sleep and we’ll wake up then shower then go do the laundry because lord did we also make a mess.” wade says with a laugh but you tuned him out as sleep took over your body once again.

logan closed his eyes and also felt himself drift off hearing the steady hum of wade’s heartbeat for the two people he cared most about.

[erwinsvow]

They call you the clueless pogue. The pretty one. 

You don’t care much either way—that comes from years of being Kiara’s best friend, she’s taught you well on how to ignore what other people think and say about you. Maybe you would care more, you think one day, watching JJ and Pope drive each other crazy while trying to fix something that’s inexplicably gone wrong with the Twinkie. John B is swinging in the hammock, eyes closed, empty beer in his hand that is soon replaced with a fresh one by Kie. She drops the old can into a bin that has the recycling symbol drawn on with a sharpie, her own creation. She walks towards you with a can of fruity seltzer since it’s well known with your new friends that you refuse to drink beer—and it all feels very domestic.

You might care about what other people say if you didn’t love your friends so much.

You are a little clueless though—at least the boys think so. They wouldn’t dare to say anything when your protective best friend was around, but when it’s just you and one of them, or all of them, it comes out a little more. 

You wear the kind of clothes that they wouldn’t let a sister of theirs be caught dead in. They never used to care about stuff like that, not until you started hanging around more often. It was the result of absent parents that were only on the island a few months out of the year. The rest of the time you had free reign, and an unlimited credit card that often funded their adventures—gas for the Twinkie, beer for the night, a new outfit to wear to the party. 

JJ gets into a fist-fight with a guy who keeps offering you a drink from the keg, not listening no matter how many times you refuse and grabbing the short hem of your yellow dress to yank you back. JJ doesn’t mean to knock him out—it’s just like instinct, he explains later that night to John B and Pope while you’re sound asleep on the pull-out with Kiara—the way he feels protective over you.

“Are you okay?” Kie asks, and you smooth out your dress from where that guy had grabbed it.

“Only because JJ saved me,” you say, looking at him with big doe eyes and fluttering eyelashes. He swallows uncomfortably.

“No biggie, princess, I mean you know me, I’m a big damsel-in-stress kinda guy-” Kiara rolls her eyes and brings you inside, and he’s left standing there with pink-tinged ears.

He doesn’t tell them about how you were looking around for someone, anyone to help, how scared you look when he touched you, how your face visibly eased when you locked eyes with JJ, how you held a bag of frozen peas to his black eye and kissed his cheek before going back to find everyone earlier. He decides to keep that for himself.

You don’t keep an eye out for your surroundings when you tag along on their adventures either. That’s pretty much John B’s responsibility now, walking towards the back with you. You often start looking around, head in the clouds, staring at the trees and sky and walking right into a pile of mud or a puddle.

“Wow, the air is so clean out here,” you comment while taking a deep breath. It’s said quiet enough that only he can hear you.

“Yeah, pretty girl, that’s because of all the trees.” You laugh and shove his arm, because duh, but you can’t respond because the others are yelling for you two to catch up.

He doesn’t let you lead—you’ve cried over too many ruined shoes for him to risk it anymore—instead he holds onto your hand firmly, gripping tight when he needs you to slow down and pulling gently when it’s okay to proceed. It’s his job to make sure all the bugs are out of the way, that you’re not walking into a spiderweb or running after a butterfly or pretty bird. The others tease you two and laugh, but you still thank him with a tight hug, the thin material of your sports bra not really hiding much, murmuring something about no signs of mud on your new sneakers.

“Yeah, anytime,” he breathes after you’ve already walked away. You turn back to smile at him, adjusting your ridden-up tennis skirt you’d sported today. “Wouldn’t wanna dirty those shoes.”

You make Pope feel like the smartest guy in the world sometimes, without even trying. It’s not like you’re stupid, because he knows you’re not, but when you bite your cheek and tap his shoulder to ask him another question about whatever you were working on, your words start going to his head. 

“So if I wanna save this and put them all together, I just use this program? And I just use the mouse?” you say thoughtfully, repeating his instructions back to him.

“Yes, sweetheart,” and he tries his best to make sure he sounds patient—he’s learned from experience you don’t react well if you even suspect he’s getting frustrated.

Pope watches you play with the thin straps of your shirt before the string idly falls off your shoulder, exposing a swath of soft, sweet-smelling skin to him. Staring at your bare shoulder, he thinks he could never get frustrated at you even if he tried his hardest.  When you finish making your little vision-board on photoshop, you turn to show him proudly, and he is proud, with how well you followed his instructions and weren’t too shy to keep asking for his help. Later that night at the Chateau, you lean against his shoulder with his arm swung around you on the couch and explain what each of the images mean until you fall asleep. 

They’re all playing a game of chicken—wondering which one will be the first to cross that line and suggest something more than just friendship to you. Through empty cases of beer and boys-only fishing trips they’ve briefly discussed to each other that they’re interested, but of respect—to each other, not really to you—they haven’t made the first move just yet. No matter how difficult you make it.

At the beach you help the boys wax their surfboards, taking turns with each one, floating around a little tipsy already from your fruity drink. They’re all talking, but you don’t really pay attention, eyes staring at something in the distance.

JJ covers his mouth, imitating a walkie noise. 

“Hello, uh, earth to princess, over.” 

You turn back to him and his board, dropping the chunk of wax and leaning in. He blanks for a second—your pretty face getting closer, an eyeful of your tits in the tiny bikini you’re wearing today making his head spin. And you’re infront of everyone, which is definitely not how he’d thought he would win this little competition. 

“Do you see that pretty girl over there? Three o’clock?” 

“I see a pretty girl right in front of me,” he says, and you laugh, pushing his shoulder. He doesn’t realize that you think he’s just joking. 

“Jayj, seriously. See her?” He nods, but still doesn’t turn to look. “She’s been staring at you for, like, ten minutes. You should go over there!” 

You’re smiling big, like the idea of another girl talking to him sounds fun. He pulls back from you, confused.

“I need another beer.” He stalks off, walking to the boys while you turn to Kiara.

“What did I do wrong? I’m trying to get him laid-” Kiara rolls her eyes. You turn and see the boys in deep conversation, occasionally glancing back at you and Kie.

“She just told me to go flirt with some girl, like, right in front of her. I mean is this some kind of test?” He takes a long chug of the beer, sounding about as stressed as Pope and John B have ever seen. “Do I fail if I hook up with some rando? Or do I fail if I don’t hook up? It’s Schindler’s cat, man-”

“That’s not-” Pope starts, before being cut off.

“Sorry, sorry. Schrodinger’s kids.”

“No, JJ-”

“What the hell does she mean? So she wants us to hook up with other people?” John B cuts in, looking back at you, but something else on the beach seems to have caught your attention.

“Woah, I’m not doing that, but you two are more than welcome-” 

“Yeah, nice try, Pope. We get with some girl so you can tell her you stayed loyal and win her over? I don’t think so, genius-”

“Well, you’re the one she’s trying to set up so I think I’m pretty safe right now-”

“It’s not a reality show Pope, you can’t eliminate me.”

“Guys,” John B speaks up.

“If this was a show, I’d clearly be the fan favorite and the winner-���

“Uh, says who? I would so win, let’s do a poll right now and survey this beach-”

“Guys.” Louder this time, they listen to John. He doesn’t say anything, just stares into the distance and soon they join him, to see what he’s looking at.

“Y’gotta be fucking kidding me,” JJ says, watching you run into Rafe’s arms, swinging around before giving him a kiss. Rafe pulls away and looks straight at the three of them, while giving them a wave.

[ktsumu]

retired apartment neighbour!john price who just misses protecting someone warnings: he's tampering with your stuff, implied home invasion, stalking

belatedly dedicated to @soumies who brainstormed this!!!

-

Your sink isn't working again.

Two months ago, it was a worn washer and something else the repair guy that your landlord sent told you. The last time, the drain wasn't up to fighting anymore.

This time? You don't know what the fuck it is.

Sometimes, you can fix it yourself— save some good money. Sometimes, something's obviously loose, because you remember that you tightened it well the time before. You make it right again and leave it, but then it just drips again. It makes you worry about the day you don't notice the sound and the wood starts to rot.

You've asked down the hallway a bit about whether their kitchens suck too, but they give you funny looks. You don't know why you've got the cursed unit, but it seems that everyone else is doing just fine.

Everyone but John, at least, because he worries about you.

John Price is half-neighbour, half-friend, half-stranger. That's too many halves, but he's big enough to fit them all.

The five months he's lived next to you, he's been nothing but kind. He's caring, funny when you're tired, helpful. You call him Price in passing, John when you need him for something; he answers dutifully to both.

(He's protective, too, frightens boys you bring back for yourself. You guess that nature came with the dog tags.)

He's kind, but you don't know him outside of when you need him, really. Neither of you seem to mind, though, since you're sure he's a busy man and he probably thinks you're too young to waste time on.

Now is one of those times that you need him.

The wrench in your cramping hand clatters against your kitchen floor, sweat beading at your hairline and under the neck of your shirt. It's the hottest night recorded in a decade and here you are; working on your fucked up sink instead of taking a cold shower.

Being too loud isn't a concern— your hallway is full of rabbits and your building manager lives below you; you hope he hears you groaning.

When you hear a knock, knowing who it's from, you start to care a little bit.

"Everything right?"

"I'm fine," you tell him, but it's wheezy. "Sorry for being loud."

Price simply opens your door, enters your home. It's barely ever locked when you're here, you aren't as careful as you used to be. Sometimes, if he's talking to you, he walks right in.

You never really say anything about it. You don't mean it as an invitation, but it comes out as one.

"It's that sink again?"

"How'd you know?"

Price is already in your space— looming over you, squatting to a kneel. One of his hands guides you away from the cabinet and you follow him without question.

He takes the wrench you gave up on. "S'always the sink with you, kid."

You see glimpses of history in Price. Like how he slides himself under your sink even though it's small, almost silent. Like how he grips your rusty wrench like a knife, backhanded, thumb closed over the handle's end.

His skin is covered in sweat, too, dewy under your kitchen light. It beads by his beard.

There's an ugly grind of metal versus metal, something tightening or being forced back into place. Price drops his thick arms again, lifting himself out from under your counter, and he hands you your tool back.

"How did you," you trail, "how did you know—?"

"Knew where to look, love." He laughs quickly when your face is blank. Price is taller than you remember when he stands, leaning on your kitchen island. "I've seen worse than some sink pipes, yeah?"

Of course he has.

It's why you mostly get him to fix things up in your place. Always knows what's wrong with your stupid apartment.

"Yeah, sorry."

Price doesn't leave when he helps you, either.

He waits, eyes trained on you when you get around your kitchen, getting the water jug and your tray of half-frozen ice cubes, asking if he wants some water. You think most people would kindly refuse, but Price always sticks around.

This time, though, he seems like he's gotten his fill, eyes lidded as he waves a hand when you go for the fridge. "M'good, love. Just call me when it goes again."

Your kitchen is uneasy. You know it isn't him, and it's probably you and the stress from the fact you can't sleep in the heat. The AC sounds like it's fighting in your window.

"How do you know it's gonna break again?" you ask. You know it sounds dumb, because you know your whole unit is a bit of garbage, but he's quiet. "Didn't you fix it well?"

John isn't looking at your eyes, he's looking at where your arms are crossed over your chest, hiding the sweat under your arms and collar. He's looking at your bare legs.

"I did," he assures you, always. "It's just a bad sink, lovie."

Just a bad sink, s'all it is.

"Yeah, it is, huh?" you ask, breathing a laugh at the stupidity of it all. At this rate, he'll be coming in to help you until you move out.

He steps toward you again, resting a heavy hand on the small of your back. You don't realize, don't even notice the fact he's nearly guided you out of your apartment until you're at the door.

Are you seeing him out, or is he seeing you?

John feels intimate when he's this close— head tilted, brows slightly raised, thumb tapping on your spine.

"Call me next time, alright?" he tells you, like you'd imagine he'd coo at a rescue. "I'm always around.”

You just nod. Something is pushing you closer and something is pushing him out.

"I will, promise."

"Have a good one then, kid. Take it easy tonight.”

"Thanks, John. I really, really appreciate you helping."

"Just what neighbours do, aye?"

He waits by the door as you close it, watching your smile just as you watch his, warm like a fire. Something makes your hand rest on the lock.

(You know you shouldn't need to, but you kneel in front of your sink when he leaves, knees pressed against the cold floor.)

Something itches in your stomach, not intuition but not ease either, nipping at the back of your brain. You almost feel stupid, using your phone flashlight to feel around the pipe that's never right, looking for something to tell you that you aren't acting crazy for doing this.

There's something you remember seeing earlier, right? Something obvious that you checked to see if it was the issue, or something you replaced last time, or something you paid for.

Your fingers feel nothing where there should be something— a piece is definitely gone, a washer or a nut, maybe old putty you remember cringing at.

It could be lost under the lip of the cabinets, maybe. Maybe that's where it is. It isn't him, surely. He wouldn't do that. There's nothing for him to do that for.

John Price has does done nothing but be kind to you— who are you to blame him for anything?

-

A missing handful of little metal pieces is dropped into a duffel, out of his fisted hand. It clatters against the rest of them.

[thevampirekeke]

The Four Times Adrian Almost Discovers Your Identity And The One Time He Finally Did.

Warnings: none

Additional tags: gender neutral reader, canon x reader, reader is all stoic and serious, Reader works at a cat cafe in their free time, Adrian chase is a simp, secret identity, identity reveal, fluff, possibly ooc!Adrian,

Summary: The four times Adrian accidentally almost saw your face and the one time he actually accidentally discovers your identity without you even knowing.

Adrian was nosy, he tended to stick his nose where it wasn’t needed especially when it came to people he cared about. He was just a curious guy, and when it came to you his curiosity was peaked.

Now Adrian told himself he wouldn’t push it too far, you had your secret identity and he respected that as someone who also worked dutifully to stay anonymous and sadly failed. You were so mysterious and stern, rarely breaking character and always serious. Everything he wasn’t and god did he find it attractive.

he was head over heels for you and everyone knew it, well everyone but you. So nobody could blame him for wanting to know stuff about you and know your identity, especially after his was revealed.

He’d try and prod at you asking questions and cracking jokes in hopes you would laugh or tell him something about yourself but with out fail you always glared at him and went on with ignoring him.

So the first time Adrian almost saw you he was ecstatic and very very guilty because you had no idea and he wasn’t supposed to. He was leaned back in a chair with his feet on the table mask long discarded now that everyone knew who he was. His eyes had been shut for a long time, everyone just assumed he was asleep and left the room. Everyone but you.

You decided to do something risky, you decided to take off your mask ‘what’s the worse that could happen? Adrian is asleep and everyone is gone’ you thought and masks get uncomfortable after a long time. So you take it off.

Adrian hears the sound of something hitting a table and looks over to his right and finds himself staring at the back of your head. He feels his throat close up and he choked on the air. Luckily you didn’t notice and he quickly looks aways as his cheeks burn a bright shade of red. He shuts his eyes tightly, images of your head out of his mind. The way the sun from the window infront of you haloed around your body made his stomach flutter. Just as he went to turn his head to get another peak distant voices can be heard and you rush to put your mask back on.

Chris and Economos walk in bickering over something that Adrian doesn’t care for. He continues to pretend to sleep but is disrupted by Chris “yo vig wake up, tell this dumb ass that Ken was totally misunderstood in the Barbie movie” he says shoving Adrian’s shoulder causing him to groan “I’m sorry but everyone knows he was in the wrong” Adrian says playing it off as if he just got woken up.

Adrian looks over at you and you look back with your arms crossed and no expression. Mask on.

Damn those two.

—

The second time he saw you, it was a total accident too. He didn’t know he was going to see what he saw. You see Adrian was very observant much to peoples shock, it just comes with the whole vigilante job. So he is quick to notice how you start hiding something, you sneak off and duck behind walls for minutes at a time before appearing back like nothing happened.

One day you had quickly hid behind a wall and Adrian was quick to sneak behind you. He watched as you pulled up the bottom of your mask freezing for a moment you were taking off your mask and his heart was about to jump out his chest. His heart didn’t settle however as you stopped right below your nose “finally, I’m so hungry” you say pulling a plastic wrapped cookie out of your pocket quickly taking a bite after peeling back the plastic protection. He saw half your face… it’s all he could think of as he turns and quickly walks away cheeks burning.

as Adrian laid in bed that night staring at his ceiling he swore if he had laser eyes his stare would burn the image of your lips into his ceiling.

—

The third time he almost sees your face , you are all sat in the back of the van after a long mission, your bodies all hurt, everyone is exhausted and if you aren’t sleeping then you are sitting quietly keeping to yourself.

Adrian isn’t sleeping he just has his eyes shut once again, a habit he had gained when everything was blurry even with his glasses and trying to focus on anything made his head hurt. He jumped slightly as he feels a weight on his shoulder. He glances down to his left to find your head rested on his shoulder. He waves his hand in front of your face and finds you unmoving. His face heats up as he realizes you are asleep, he looks down and sees that you have your phone in hand.

He was just going to turn it face down in your lap he swore it, but as he gently took it from you hand the phone screen turned on and revealed a photo. He couldn’t help but look at it.

A photo of a grey fluffy cat zoomed in on its eyes as it is pressed up against the side of a humans face. Adrian focuses in on the beautiful color of your eyes and the way your long lashes curled up into your eyelid. It only showed your eye and the slightest sliver of skin, the photo was mainly cat face than yours but he couldn’t help as his heart squeezed with a horribly amazing feeling.

He slowly puts the phone down to not wake you and stares at your mask face trying to imagine what eyes went with those beautiful lips. He feels his face tingle More with heat and his heart speed up as he imagines said eyes staring at him.

——

The fourth time he almost saw your face is on another rough mission. This mission topped all missions on the level of hard. While everyone left with their life It left everyone injured and metaphorically dead. Especially leaving you out of everyone in rough shape. You had rolled your ankle while running leaving chris to carry you back to the van while everyone else was occupied. When Adrian made it back he had felt so guilty that he wasn’t there to help you in your moment of weakness.

I’m a desperate attempt to make himself feel better he offers to wrap your ankle. You hesitantly nod “I’m not taking off my suit though, you can do it with the suit on” he nods quickly “no yeah of course, I just need you to take your shoe off” he says pointing towards your foot.

You wince as you take off the shoe, the swelling in your foot making it a tight fit, but with some strength and a groan of pain you get the shoe off. The first thing Adrian notices is how your foot is enflamed and your ankle is a light yellowish brown as it begins bruising. The second thing he notices is the tattoo you have on your ankle. It was a cat curled up into a ball sleeping, it was small and dainty, nothing too big or easy to spot. But it was enough to once again make Adrian’s heart flutter, that happens a lot when he’s around you. ‘I should get that checked out by my doctor’ he thinks

He takes the blue bandage out of the first aid box he had grabbed and begins gently wrapping your foot.“you like cats?” He asks causing you to stiffen up slightly “calm down, I just saw your tattoo. It’s cute” he says making you sigh softly “thanks I forgot it was there. got it in memory of a very important little guy” you say looking down at your foot watching as Adrian’s hands wrap the bandage around. “How do you know how to do this?” You ask making him laugh softly “oh I have no idea what I’m doing”

And for the first time time Adrian’s heard you laugh. It’s soft and only lasts a short second but it’s still a laugh and it still comes from you.

He smiles brightly and finished off wrapping “all done” he says proudly before stranding “thank you, Adrian” you say and the way you say has name has his head reeling and stomach doing flips and jumps “anytime” he says.

—

Adrian had wanted to get you a coffee to make you feel better, he still felt guilty about you getting hurt so he had went out of his way to stop at this little cat cafe that had opened down the road from his apartment. He had never been to a cat cafe so he had no idea what to expect except for something cat related.

When Adrian walked in through the doubled up doors the first thing he notices was the bell going off above his head signaling his arrival.

The second was a small orange and white cat rubbing up against his leg “oh hello there” he says leaning down to scratch the cat. While he pet the ball of fur he looked around the room noticing tables and several more cats along with a barista bar in the back.

There were people spread around the cafe petting cats and chatting with each other. For some reason Adrian felt out of place within the space but still he persisted and made his way towards the counter where a barista was busying themself with preparing drinks.

The barista doesn’t notice him at first too in the zone if pouring milk into the coffee, Adrian takes in their appearance and he swears that hair and those eyes look familiar. “Hello!” He says causing the barista to whip around.

their eyes go wide and they fumble what their doing dropping milk all over the counter “o-oh my god- I’m- uh- hi I’ll be with you in one sec”

Oh my god.

That voice.

It can’t be…

Adrian feels his heart pick up as he looks over the counter at your legs, Trying not to look like a total creep. Yup and there it is soft blue bandaging that had yet to been changed within having such a busy schedule. “I-I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened there” you say tossing the milk soaked rag. “What can I get you?”

Hearing your voice and seeing it come from your face had Adrian reeling and had him short of breath . Somehow he had fallen harder within those few seconds. You were stunning, ethereal as you stood there in your coffee stained apron hair pulled back out of your face giving him a nice clear view. all those features he had saw separately now came together like the most beautiful puzzle. He just had to play this cool

“Yeah can I get caramel…meow meow??” He questions squinting up at the menu drawing a chuckle from you. Oh he was absolutely smitten.

Omg hello!! Thank you for reading my first ever fic. I’m both terrified and very proud with myself. I hope you enjoyed! Reblogs are very appreciated 🦇🖤

[xervn]

like a french girl 🎨

part 1 - paint me | part 2 | art major ellie x dance major reader | ellie photo

ao3 link

summary: ellie had been struggling with finding the perfect model for her art final. that was until she saw you.

18+ MDNI | 2.2k words | tags; college au, pining, only a little explicit, no use of y/n, not proofread

disclaimer: not an art or dance major, don't shoot!

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Scribble, scratch, throw. This has been Ellie’s routine since she moved onto campus.

Why? Her professor told her that she draws the human body like it’s lifeless. Ranting about how they’re too one-dimensional and have no depth, her lines are too sharp or not sharp enough; flat and boring in looks and in feeling. 

Now listen, Ellie has nothing against criticism. She respects her professor and she’s aware that her drawings lack “vitality”. It’s been something she’s struggled with for a while now, an effect of some recent events and overall adjusting to college life. 

Ellie isn’t unable to grasp the anatomy of the body, in fact it’s the opposite. She knows the human body is complex and needs thorough observation. The way the sun hits the skin, the hairs on a knuckle, the creases of a smile. Wide, small, big, tall; no two bodies are exactly the same. 

Really, the imagery is so clear to her, but she finds it impossible to transfer the life and motion of the body onto a piece of paper without truly understanding the person. The way she sees it, every body has a story, and in order to make a good piece she needs to know that story.

Since art school is filled to the brim with inspiring, exciting, and vibrant people, she has, of course, tried to talk with them. She attempted to get to know the models, ask them general questions and hope something clicks. Unfortunately, that has yet to happen. She can’t really ask her friends either without it getting awkward. Imagine, “ Oh, hey guys! Can you guys get naked and pose in one spot for my homework?”   Hear how weird that sounds? Even though she’s sure Jesse would definitely be down, she values her eyes.

 Any “muse” she could possibly ever want was right in front of her, so why was it really impossible for her to find one?

 Well, because Ellie didn’t find anyone interesting enough. She’s not shallow or anything, it has nothing to do with how the model looked, Ellie has had several good-looking models. It was more about how she perceived them. It’s just that she hasn’t seen a model that made her ask questions like: “ How’d they get that scar?”  “ What does that tattoo mean?” Stuff like that.

The last interesting model she had was probably a fucking homeless guy she shared a blunt with outside a gas station many moons ago. Till this day, he might be one of her best pieces. There’s not a lot of moments like that here.

Nonetheless, Ellie saw this developing– extremely lame— personal requirement of hers annoying as shit. It’s holding her back big time, but she couldn’t help it even if she really wanted to.

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It’s practically useless to keep trying. The tiny voice in Ellie's head presses her to keep going, keep failing, but enough is enough. She is seriously burnt out and any more of this might kill her. The only thing that could help right now is a meaty slice of pizza and a blunt as soon as she thought of it.

Ellie clears out her desk, knocking the stack of crumpled paper into a conveniently placed trash can; a placement made from her constant trials and errors. She pushes up, and stretches widely, obnoxiously groaning like an old man by the end of it. She quickly tidied herself up, tying up half of her hair into a ponytail and throwing on a dark-green flannel shirt she had to sniff before wearing over her plain white tee. She takes a quick look into her floor-length mirror, making sure she looks presentable before grabbing what she needs to head out.

Just as her hand reached for the silver knob, Ellie felt this overwhelming urge to look back. God, she knows what she is going to look back at, but she really hopes she doesn’t. Unfortunately, her eyes land on her sketchbook, laid flat on the desk underneath a lamp’s warm light. She shouldn’t.

She needs a break. She knows she needs a break, but there is a twinge of hope, faith, lodged somewhere inside her. The same faith that’s kept her from dropping out every day for the past four months. Ellie groans as she drags her feet to her desk where she whisks up the brown book and shoves it in her tote bag with an accompanying pencil. She swivels back to the door and strolls out, silently praying her mood improves in the next hour.

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The cafeteria was surprisingly crowded, but Ellie managed to get her pizza without saying ‘fuck it’ to the line. Still, the thought of eating between this buzzing mess when she was in such a shitty mood turned her off. Thankfully, she knew that everyone would be everywhere but the upstairs balcony, especially during this chilly time of year. No sane person would eat out there, and she’s not particularly sane. Ellie saunters off to the balcony and sits herself at a small table facing the view.

It only took a glance around before she came to the realization that the view is not really a view. There’s only a dorm a few feet away, directly across. It’s a large brick-laid, generic building with wide windows. If it weren’t for the blinds, the view into a room would probably be good enough to read a label on something. Ellie’s freckled face grimaces at the thought, imagining what it’d be like if someone watched her rage as she messed up her homework over and over from this distance. Despite that, she thought it’d probably be a pretty good spot to live in. It’s close to the cafeteria and probably a lot bigger than her 1x1 dorm.

With a twinge of curiosity piquing her mind, Ellie glimpses over the windows, and for the most part, they are all closed.

All closed, but yours.

Yours doesn’t even have blinds. You’re on the 3rd floor and almost completely unobscured in a black camisole, sitting on your questionably roomy windowsill with a leg perched up. Ellie can see the fairy lights strung up in your bedroom, and a line of succulents closer to the window; ordered by size, which she briefly thought was cute. 

You aren’t facing the window, so she can only see your back. What she could see, though, is you doing your hair, occasionally swaying to what she can only imagine is music. Your room is high, but low enough for her to identify you if she had the pleasure of knowing you. Knowing you, reverberates in her head. Does she know you? Has she met you before? Amongst that babble, there is one more question she is slowly trying to gather an answer to. 

Time passes, most definitely shorter than Ellie would have thought passed. Her eyes have been glued on you the whole time, she even forgot about her, now freezing cold, pizza just so she could gawk at you. She still hasn’t seen your face yet, barely even a glimpse, but she already thinks you are stupidly beautiful just by the way you move.

From the graciousness of your movements alone, she thought there was no way in hell you didn’t know she was watching. At some point, your arms got tired, so you smoothly rolled your aching shoulders back; stretching into an arched, effortlessly perfect posture. Ellie’s eyes traced that slight curve of your back as if you’d disappear if she broke off from you.

There is no way it gets better from that, is what she thinks to herself, only to be shut up immediately after when she sees that perfectness of your back stay as you bend over and shift onto both knees to grab something far away, bringing your shorts in view. So short— so tight , they could easily be mistaken for panties. 

It was unexpected to say the least, Ellie could feel her face heating up and had to look around her to see if anyone else could see what she was seeing right now. Ellie wondered about the practicality of those shorts, wondered what exactly they were supposed to cover, leering at the plush of your ass peeking out. She thoughtlessly lets her jaw drop before muttering out a low, impressed, and barely over a whisper, “Well, fuck.”

You must’ve noticed your shorts riding up, since you quickly pulled them down after you grabbed what you wanted. Ellie clears her throat, internally scolding herself for being so gross— so perverted. Her brows furrow in embarrassment from all the dirty thoughts she brewed up in that moment. But for some reason, she still doesn’t look away. Well, there’s a list of reasons for her to look away, but she feels like ignoring it. 

Then a cold gust of wind bites past her face, clearly a sign from the universe that she should snap out of it, and snap out of it she does. 

What the hell happened to her? What is it about you that she keeps leaning into? Suddenly something clicks in her brain. After months of creative agony, something finally clicked. She has sat here completely fascinated by you and she couldn’t tell sooner?

In all honesty, to say she is just “interested” in you would be an understatement. Yeah, now she thinks you’re the perfect model for her final, but she wants to know you beyond just the drawing. A plus is that you just happened to be hot, and Ellie has never been attracted to a subject before, so the whole thing was new and exciting to her. Just the thought of drawing you made her remember why she loved art so much.  Ellie reaches for her tote bag sitting in an empty seat beside her, pulling out her sketchbook with more enthusiasm than she probably ever has. She sets the book down, opening up a blank page with one hand and tightening her grip on her pencil in the other.

She looks back up at your window, ready to sketch your life onto paper and..  Shit. You’re looking back.

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Today has been a good day for you, your teacher chose  you to teach the choreo you’ve been working on for weeks to your classmates. It was an obvious ego booster for you. You felt good and you wanted to look good too, even if you weren’t going out anywhere. It was just one of those nights. You wanted to experiment with your hair, thinking maybe you’ll do something new before your next practice. Dye it, cut it.. something.

It’s been a while since you started, and after several wrist and shoulder cramps, you were finally finished. You take a look into your hand mirror, peering at your reflection. You’re satisfied now, looking exactly how you’re feeling if you minus the dingy sleep clothes you’re in. 

♫ My heart, I never be, I never see, I never know. ♫

Grimes? Really? You pout, upset that your playlist didn’t magically read your mood. What you need is real 2000’s hot girl music. Britney Spears, Nelly Furtado, or Beyoncé for crying out loud.

“Alexa, skip!” You shout across the room, just loud enough for the device to hear. 

The stupid thing doesn’t even light up, so you call out a few more times but to no avail. Isn’t the whole point of that thing to be voice automated? You sigh and look around for your phone, and seeing it’s nowhere in front of you, you figure it’s behind. You twist your torso to find your phone behind you and luckily you do. As you pick it up, you casually glance out the window without any expectations. 

Did you see a figure in the blur as you looked away? You question your eyes, but you decide to take another look and just find out for yourself.

You peer back down and your eyes meet with someone else’s. The sudden eye contact between you and this woman instantly mortified you. Your heart sunk, and all you could do was raise your brows stupidly. She was surprised too, even in the dim light you could see her shocked expression boring back at you. Not only that, it went on for way longer than it should have. Any normal person would’ve looked away, but her eyes lingered on you before she hastily turned away. 

You’ve been sitting here, dressing up your hair, listening to your music without a care in the world. Far too absorbed in yourself to realize there’s someone outside your window. You slide off your windowsill and out of sight. Just as your bottom finally hits the wood floor, you feel the coldness of it against your skin and you’re immediately conscious of the fact that your ass was literally out at some point. 

The poor girl was trying to eat her food and you were bending over in front of your window like a harlot. It certainly didn’t help that she looked kinda hot. Did she? You peeked over your windowsill, hoping to get another look to really assess her hotness, but she was already gone. Whatever, maybe she didn’t see? But she looked embarrassed… embarrassed for you probably!

You hide your face in your hands and topple to the side, letting out a fake sob. Oh, god. You can already imagine Dina’s face when you tell her. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at that thought. That was humiliating as shit, but it’s whatever. It’s not like you’ll see her again. 

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side note: if you have any tropes you'd like to see w/ this universe pls do drop an ask 🤭

click 4 more!

[jaysgirlx]

JASON TODD AS MY BOYFRIEND HCS. smthing like how we mettt, our dynamic, and other cute things sosjsjsjwo. I need him biblically, spiritually, and physically. LOVEE YOUUU

Jason Todd Boyfriend Headcanons for my bestie Ani!!

— You met Jason at a bookstore, you'd spotted him there multiple times wandering through the classics section. So of course you went back multiple times hoping you'd be able to talk to him except he managed to approach you first. He's towering over you from behind, and you think he's going a grab a book off the shelf but instead, his hand points to a book that you hadn't seen before, Wuthering Heights, "try this sweetheart, it's a favorite of mine" and before you could even ask him his name he walks away like a smug bastard.

— The next time you see him there, you tell him how much you loved the book and while you're busy rambling you notice him smiling and he goes, "you're cute when you ramble". After a couple more times of seeing others at the bookstore, a bit of flirting, and plenty of book recommendations Jason finally asks you out.

— The two of have the greatest dynamic, you contrast each other so well that your conversations go on forever. Jason could always find something to say to whatever argument you had ready.

— Jason still loves that you ramble, even though he occasionally has to shut you up with a kiss so that you can catch your breath. He warns you about it but you don't listen cause you like it (ani is reallyyyy into this stuff guys).

— Jason slightly regrets giving you his real phone number instead of a burner because all you do is tag him in tiktoks and comment "we should do this" or "this reminded me of you". He complains about it to you but he screatly loves it and uses it as date planning material so he gives you exactly what you want.

— Jason isn't used to pda and physical touch but he loves it when you stroke his cheek and kiss any part of his face. He hasn't received any physical intimacy in a long time and he's scared of asking you to do more because he doesn't want to be needy. He eventually ends up asking you and of course, you shower him with affection in private. You kiss each of his scars while he on the other hand, finds himself kissing and ducking your neck with his hands always rubbing your hips. You got him addicted to not just your touch but how you how bodies felt up against each other.

— When you take your random naps he sits down near you and watches you, not in a creepy way but in an "I can't lose you" kind of way. He gets worried that you'll just disappear when he isn't looking because he can barely fathom how he managed to make you his.

— The two of you read books together even though your tastes differ a bit and he loves taking you to this old cafe where he always buys you whatever treat you want.

— Your relationship is very private for all the right reasons, drawing attention to Jason would be dangerous for both of you and he wasn't ready to risk it.

— Since Jason can't take you to fancy restaurants or famous places that could get him spotted he tries his hardest to be around as much as possible. You know he's the Red Hood but there's a silent agreement between you two not to talk about it.

— Jason agrees to hear your daily girl drama and do your nails but only if you watch his favorite old movies with him. Turns out he loves The Notebook and that's why he's scared of meeting your parents.

— Jason loves sleeping together every night you can, and he doesn't mean sexually he just means cuddling to sleep. Jason feels the closest to you when he's holding you because it reminds him that you chose to be here with him when you don't need to have to be.

[sanakiras]

TREAT YOU BETTER

PAIRING — lee chan x fem!reader

WORD COUNT — 3.7k

SYNOPSIS — your boyfriend of five months has been treating you like hell, and one of your closest friends, lee chan, refuses to let it go on any longer, taking matters into his own hands.

TAGS — college au, best friends to lovers, cheating, explicit sexual content, mutual pining, mentions of reader struggling with low self-esteem, cheesy stuff, yes i did come up with this after accidentally listening to treat you better by shawn mendes, this didn’t turn out as good i hoped it would but oh well!

NOTE — first fic here. he looks so good in the wait m/v so i wanted to write something for him :D my beloved

the slam of the door behind you rings through your ears. you try to wipe your cheeks dry, hoping you don’t look like the tearful mess you are.

your voice feels raw from yelling for the past hour or so. it’s been going like this for the past two months at least twice a week, and you’re exhausted because of it.

as the rain pours, you notice the familiar car driving towards you, bright lights feeling heavy on your eyes. you open the door without hesitation to let yourself sink into the passenger’s seat, taking a few deep breaths, all without looking at the driver.

but the quiet sobs escaping you are enough to give it away.

chan has his one arm leaning on top of the steering wheel, the other gently touching your shoulder to make you look at him, but you refuse.

“i’m fine,” you stutter out, sniffing from the cold, “really.”

of course you’re not fine. both of you are more than aware of the toxicity of the situation. you getting into arguments with your boyfriend several times a week, resulting in you calling chan and staying over at his apartment for a night, only to hear you make it up to the guy the next day when you weren’t even in the wrong to begin with.

“we have a different definition of that, then.”

“it was just an argument. we’ll work it out in a couple hours.”

“it’s not normal.” he says, trying to get it through your thick skull without raising his voice. “it’s not normal, baby.”

you sniff, trying to somehow get rid of the pain beating against your forehead. “he can be so mean, and then… then he’s so sweet again.”

chan wants to rip his hair out of his head. five fucking months of this have passed at this point, and he doesn’t know how much more of it he can take. he’s not sure how to handle the situation the right way, either.

he’s been in love with you for years. years. since sophomore year in high school. it was never his intention to fall in love with you, nor did he think he would, but he did, and god did he fall hard. embarrassingly hard.

nevertheless, he was always too afraid to make a move. too afraid that you’d reject him and he’d be out of your life forever like he was never there in the first place.

but he’s grown up now. third year of university, twenty-two years old, longer hair, a leather jacket and a solid bunch of experiences. some great, some he’d rather forget.

and so five months ago, he’d finally mustered the courage. he was finally going to own up to his feelings and tell you the truth.

only for you to excitedly come up to him, telling him you’re seeing this guy. and it made his heart sink in his chest, but he pushed his feelings to the side for your happiness.

or so he tried.

your boyfriend treats you like shit. he was sweet in the beginning — they always are.

then the cracks in the façade started to show.

it’s not that you don’t see it. you do — but it’s difficult to leave when someone knows just how to keep you where they want you. every time you tell yourself you’re gonna break up with him, he sweet-talks you and says things can be fixed, and that going through a rough patch is normal.

but chan knows better.

he just needs you to know better as well.

it breaks his heart to see his favorite person let herself get hurt like this. he becomes a little more torn with every sob leaving your body, every tear spilling from your eyes.

he gently puts the buds of his fingertips on your chin and jaw, slowly turning your face to him so he can look you in the eye.

the tears are still quietly running down your cheeks, your face numb, now devoid of any emotion, ashamed to have him see you in this state.

“you’re killing yourself like this.” he whispers, voice laced with concern. “he’ll never make you happy.”

you sniff from your breakdown. “maybe it’s me. maybe i just need to stop giving him such a hard time—”

“don’t even think about finishing that sentence.”

“please, chan, just… just go and get me somewhere else. all i need is some breathing space — please.” you beg him.

he wants to scream, wants to tell you to break up with him for good, wants to walk into that damn house and do it himself — but he can’t.

instead, he obliges, driving you to his place.

his cozy one-person apartment feels like the best place in the world to you — the one place where you can get away from everything else.

you watch chan as he locks the door behind him, then leaning against it for a moment as he watches you sit on the armrest of the soft chair. “you okay? want some tea?”

the corners of your lips curl up at the suggestion. he knows you awfully well. “that’d be great.”

his lashes flutter before he nods, kicking his shoes off by the door.

once he’s busy in the kitchen, you bite your lip as you recall the way he softly talked to you in the car, eyes trailing past the curves of his arms and the sharpness of his jawline.

he’s dated more than you have. not much in high school, but definitely during the past three years he’s spent at college. though it doesn’t surprise you. he has such warmth to him, with the beautifully infectious sound of his laughter, that big smile and some of the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen.

it wasn’t until recently you began to see him in a different light. whenever you saw him with a new girl, arm around her waist or over her shoulders, you secretly imagined yourself next to him more than once. you can’t believe you didn’t take notice of how handsome he was before.

but you’re too much of a coward to tread over that line of friendship, too much of a coward to see if maybe, just maybe, your feelings are requited.

“wanna stay here for a while?” he asks, hoping you’ll at least spend the night here before you go back to your boyfriend, as you’ve done countless times before.

“yeah. don’t feel like going back yet.” you smile, trying to somewhat make light of the situation.

“then don’t.”

you sigh at his response. “it’s not that easy.”

“why not?”

“because i don’t wanna throw something away the second things get hard.”

“there’s a difference between hard and unbearable. your case is the latter.”

feeling backed into a corner, even though he hardly means to do so, you turn the topic on him. “you’ve had some rough experiences with past girlfriends too and you stuck around.”

god. if only you knew he ended up leaving them because he never enjoyed being with them as much as he enjoyed being with you. “you’d be surprised.” he mutters under his breath, pouring two cups of tea, making yours exactly as he knows you like.

when you stay quiet, he tries to think of a way to get it through your head that you need to break up with your resident ass of a boyfriend.

“can i ask you something?”

“sure.”

“what’s it going to take for you to leave him?”

the question makes you look up before using a tone that almost sounds like you’re scolding him. “chan.”

“i’m serious. he’s treating you like shit. you call me crying every week.”

“it’s just—”

“no, it’s not ‘just a tough time’. you know it isn’t.” he interrupts, jaw clenched tight but voice controlled. he will not yell at you like that piece of trash does. “he’s a controlling, manipulative asshole. it’s not gonna get better. if anything, he’ll just treat you worse in the future.”

“yeah, well, not all of us have people lined up.”

the words have left your mouth before you can comprehend it, leaving you to lower your head in regret. not that it’s any less true. to you, anyway.

“what, and i do?”

“don’t you?”

he’s not sure what baffles him more — you thinking that he’s got girls lined up to date him or you thinking that you don’t have anyone else out there that would be willing to date you.

“what’s this really about?” he sits down on the empty coffee table, facing you directly. “what does my dating life have to do with yours?”

“nothing — it doesn’t. i never said it did.”

“then why the comment about me having people lined up? which i don’t, by the way.”

the answer sits at the tip of your tongue, but you can’t bring yourself to say it without looking away from him. “maybe not. but at least you won’t end up alone. i can’t say the same for myself.”

and there it is. the sole reason you’re still with the guy. your crippling fear of ending up alone, your heavy insecurity that makes you believe no one could possibly want you.

the last thing he wants is for you to get hurt — but he’d rather have you suffer through your first heartbreak than end up with someone who walks all over you like a doormat.

“please don’t take this the wrong way, sweetheart, but if you think that low of yourself, you’re a little stupid.”

the comment makes you snort. “well, it’s certainly fitting.”

he wipes some of your half-dried tears away, his one hand remaining to cup your cheek, an alarmingly intimate gesture.

“aside from the fact that there’s nothing wrong or shameful about ending up alone... i need you to know that you’re worth it. you’re gorgeous and intelligent and—” he halts for a moment, in a way confessing his love for you, not caring how cheesy it sounds, “—you deserve everything you want. ‘cause you’re one in a million.”

fuck, has he always looked at you that lovingly?

his words catch you off-guard for a moment before you press your lips together. “as much as i think it’s sweet of you to say those things, you’re only saying them ‘cause you’re my friend.” you interrupt him, having made up your mind.

after which chan shakes his head, gently twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers. “i’m saying it because it’s true. any guy would be lucky to have you in his life.”

“i don’t think ‘lucky’ is the term my boyfriend would use.”

“yeah, ‘cause he’s a fucking dick.” he immediately comments, adding the next part with a softer tone. “if you were with me, i sure as shit wouldn’t be acting like that.”

that last sentence catches your attention, and chan realizes what he just said, suddenly very aware he’s treading on thin ice now.

but it had to come out one way or another.

though you seem to be going along with his words, not showing any signs of being uncomfortable with it. “and who’s to say you wouldn’t break my heart?”

he sees the intrigue on your face and decides to lean in closer. “if i broke your heart, i’d be breaking mine as well.”

“i’m not convinced.” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear, and chan feels his heartbeat quicken.

every rational thought going through his mind is thrown out of the window the moment he catches you staring at his lips. it’s enough for him to put his hand on your lower cheek and smash his lips against yours.

he kisses you like he always imagined he would. perhaps a little too enthusiastically, but he’s waited too long for this moment to care.

and you’re kissing him back.

you both get hot from adrenaline and arousal. his hands roam down your hips, but when you start pulling on the collar of his jacket, he finally has it in him to break the kiss.

“are you sure you want this? i don’t want you to feel pressured—”

“i’ve wanted this for so long, chan. take it off, please.”

maybe he should pinch himself to make sure he’s not dreaming. you’re underneath him, lips swollen, gazing at him like he’s your whole world and more.

he leans down again to pick you up, ensuring you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist so he can carry you to his bedroom.

once he lays you down on the soft bed, you watch him take off his jacket and throw his shirt over his head, leaving him with his chest bare, elastic waistband of his underwear visible.

he’s a dancer in his spare time, but you know he’s been hitting the gym recently as well, and it’s paying off, noticing his bigger biceps and toned abs.

then he chuckles from the way you’re observing him, and that smile — that beautifully big smile is what you fell in love with.

one of many things, really.

you remove your basic long-sleeved shirt, exposing your skin before him, enjoying the way he’s looking at the black bra you’re wearing underneath.

you’re seated at the edge of the bed, at eye-level with his chest, which you kiss softly.

he follows your actions like a hawk, unable to keep his eyes off you. he proceeds to move your hair behind your shoulder, his right hand finding your jaw when he kisses you again, lips trailing down to your neck and collarbone.

his touches are slow and sensual. at the end of the day, it’s your first time together, and you both notice the pressure and tension that comes with it.

you’re both aching to touch each other more already, but it feels so much better like this.

he gently pushes you to lay on your back, hovering over you to kiss down your chest and stomach, smoothly pulling down your skirt before his fingers hook onto the fabric of your lace underwear.

“what’d you want me to do, pretty girl?” he asks while getting rid of your panties, looking you in the eye as he does it.

the nickname makes you shiver. “you can do anything you wanna do.”

“wanna eat you out. bet i’m better at it than that motherfucker.”

“not hard to beat when he never does it at all.” you mumble to yourself, but he hears it.

“are you kidding? has he ever even made you cum?”

you just give him a deadpan stare that has a hint of embarrassment to it, which is enough for him to know the answer.

just being aware of how bad that fucker treats you makes him want to prove to you that he can make you feel so, so much better. and that’s exactly what he’s gonna do.

he wastes no time, spreading your legs so his tongue can get to work. you shiver at the feeling of his mouth on you, biting your lower lip to not squeal already from sensitivity.

“no. none of that. i wanna be able to hear every sound you make.” he says after taking your hand away from your mouth. “you can pull on my hair if you like.”

“do you like that?”

“yeah, i enjoy a bit of pain.”

that makes you giggle a bit. “you masochist.”

to which he responds with a gentle pinch to your skin. “keep it in mind for next time, baby.”

fuck — you definitely will.

your hands run through his soft black hair. you’ve locked your legs behind his head, hips bucking up a little every time he hits a spot that feels good, his warm breath and wetness of his mouth on your pussy turning you on like crazy.

chan is pretty sure he’s descending into heaven when he hears you moan his name for the first time. he doesn’t know how many times he’s fucked his fist imagining that sound.

so he adds a finger to the warm and wet mess between your legs, sliding in easily, biting his own lip as he watches your reaction to it. you’ve got your head thrown back, one hand fisting the sheets, the other still holding his locks.

then he moves to a second, and not much later he’s got three of his fingers pumping in and out of you, arching them a little to find the right spot, rubbing and sucking on your clit.

“does that feel good?” he asks, just a bit out of breath, which is nothing compared to the writhing mess that’s you. he keeps messing with the pace, edging you a little every time, making you go crazy.

“please, channie, please let me cum—”

“i will if you answer me, baby.”

you whine, nodding at him desperately. “feels s’good, so fucking good.”

“want me to go faster?”

“please. god—need you inside me so bad.”

even he can resist so much. you’re so good for him, so he increases the pace of his fingers, relishing in the way you start squirming underneath him, trying to push him away and pull him closer all the same.

then you pull on his hair almost violently, making him moan against your pussy as you hit your first climax in a long time.

and he doesn’t stop yet — only once he sees you’ve regained focus does he pull his fingers out of you, sucking on them to savor the taste right before kissing you again, your trembling body aching for him.

he only breaks the kiss to reach for the drawer in his nightstand, grabbing a condom out of it, getting off of you to push off the last pieces of clothing still on him. the realization of the fact that your best friend is about to fuck you after god knows how long finally begins to dawn on you, and it makes your heart beat that much harder.

once he’s slipped the condom on, you move your hands to his neck and shoulders, biting your lip when you feel him push your legs behind his waist.

you gasp when he bottoms out of you for the first time. his head is buried in the crook of your neck as he finds his rhythm, sucking at your sensitive skin, not giving a damn whether he leaves marks on someone that’s technically not even his.

yet.

“do you remember that time we went to senior prom together?” he asks breathily, not slowing down even a little bit. “you were wearing that pretty blue dress. god, i wanted to take you home that night more than anything.”

you remember that. it was just before you two graduated high school together — he looked so dashing in his suit. you’d even imagined kissing him underneath the basketball bleachers like some cliche rom-com.

“so why didn’t you?”

“was too much of a pussy to do it.”

you bring yourself to chuckle inbetween your moans. “that’s a shame. i would’ve let you.”

just knowing that his feelings are reciprocated turns him on. he lifts his head up a little, kissing the front of your neck, your jaw, your cheeks — everything, only halting for a moment when he fucks you just a little faster, watching the way your eyes roll back from pleasure.

your hands run over his strong back as he pushes in and out of you at a steady pace, your lip nearly bleeding from how hard you’re biting it.

he hisses and relishes in the burning feeling of your nails digging into his shoulder blades.

“chan—god, harder, please—”

“i know, baby, i know, i got you.” he breathes out, changing up the position by hooking your legs over his shoulders.

it hits the exact right spot when he fucks you again, harder and deeper this time, your hands desperately clinging onto his skin, teeth sinking into your lower lip until they're nearly drawing blood.

beads of sweat roll down his muscular back. he feels you’re getting closer to hitting that release, so he moves one hand down to rub your clit again, aching to see you fall apart underneath him.

“fuck, ’s too much, channie—” you whine, throwing your head back in the pillow for a moment.

but he shakes his head, continuing, knowing you’re close. “you can do it, pretty girl. cum for me again. i wanna feel it.”

and he discovers that begging you works wonders, because it’s enough for you to come undone, clamping on his dick, making it feel so tight that he spills his own release into the condom mere seconds after.

with a layer of sweat on your foreheads, he feels how sensitive you are when he pulls out. he throws the condom in the trashcan, turning his face back to yours and kisses your lips more softly this time.

“how do you feel?”

“a little worn out.” you sigh, proceeding to show a smile. “but better.”

“good. how do you feel about taking a bath?”

“sounds nice.”

chan can’t help himself and leans in to kiss you again. he’s already getting awfully used to this, but one issue remains. “i wanna be with you. i meant everything i said tonight.”

the sentiment warms your heart. he’s always had that effect on you. “i know. i wanna be with you, too.”

he nods, happy with your words. “you go on ahead to the bathroom. i’ll clean things up here.”

“okay.” you tell him, pressing another kiss to his cheek before leaving the bedroom, feeling utterly lovesick.

he shares your feelings — it’s like he’s reliving that exciting feeling of seeing you the first few days after he realized he was in love with you.

there’s something that pulls him out of it, though. a certain vibrating sound. what is that? he thinks to himself.

and after looking around the room, he discovers it’s a phone receiving a call. your phone, to be exact, sitting in the back pocket of the jeans you discarded earlier.

the screen of your cellphone lights up, and he picks up the device, about to let you know someone’s calling — but his voice gets caught in his throat when he notices it’s the asshole who made you cry in the first place.

scoffing to himself, he taps the red button and declines the call.

thank you for reading. let me know if u enjoyed it x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[storiesfromafan]

Rumours - Buck x Reader

A/N: okay, this is my first attempt at good old Gale 'Buck' Cleven, so please be nice 😅 And I am sorry in advance if its not that good haha.

Warnings: angst, possible grammer and spelling mistakes

Prompt: “You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you”

Tag list: @strayrockette

When you signed up to be a nurse during the war, you had been scared of what you would see. And see you did. Many times you questioned why you did it. But meeting both Buck and Bucky, you understood why. They were funny and sweet guys. Buck the more level headed one, while Bucky was a wild card. You never know what he would do. You did what you did for them, and men like them. They needed someone that was like home while doing what they did and through this war.

They took you into their circle. Making it hard to say no to their company, which you were grateful for after a long day after being on stand by, as those injured came in for treatment. The hurt and broken men you saw, it was heartbreaking and soul crushing. Yet you did your job. Helping Doctors and tending to those in recovery.

Over time you found yourself having a silly crush on Major Cleven. And when it turned to something more – love – you thought yourself foolish. He had a sweetheart back home, waiting for him patiently. So you put those feelings away, in a box which you locked and hid the key.

Unfortunately, a few of the other nurses, ones who you think fancied Bucky more than Buck, had it out for you. For rumours started to make the rounds about you and your affections. The way eyes would watch you as you entered a room. Silence falling between those that had clearly been conversing before your arrival. And then when you heard what they were saying, it hurt. It hurt because these people, whom you thought highly of, had tarnished your reputation.

“She's trying to steal another woman’s man, how shameless".

“I heard she's thrown herself at Major Cleven and Major Egan. It's why she's always with them".

“I always thought she had no morals. She’s always too friendly with the Doctors".

That was just some of the stuff you'd heard. So you took to distancing yourself from everyone. Only being present during your shifts, meetings or at meals. Otherwise you were in your quarters, walking around the base or going into town. It was lonely being separate from everyone. But you didn’t want to stir any new gossip.

Currently you were taking a walk around the base, enjoying the nice weather. You had been over worked the last few days, having a moment like this was just what you needed. In the distance you could hear the air crafts being worked on. But other then that, it was quiet. A contrast to back home and where you lived.

If only your peace was to last. Coming up behind you, as you were looking off into the vast open area and the blue sky, was Buck. He looked worried as he studied you. It felt like forever since he had spoken to you. He was concerned about you and how you were taking the rumours going around base. Ones which he and Bucky had been working to clear up.

You heard the rustle of grass from moving feet. But you remained where you were, waiting to know who it was. You had a fifty-fifty chance on knowing who it was, though you hoped it was Bucky.

“Hey" came Buck's soft voice. And squashing your hopes on Major Egan.

“Hi" you replied, still not turning around.

There was a moment of silence between you both. You hoping he wasn’t here to talk about what people were saying. While Buck was trying to think of how to say what he was thinking. He wanted you to know he didn't believe what was being said, that he knew you were a nice and good woman who didn't deserve this slander.

“Look, about what I've heard” Buck began, making you stiffen. “I don't believe what anyone has been saying, you know that right? You're not that kind of woman".

You nodded your head slowly. “W-what have you heard?” You asked, not entirely wanting to hear his answer.

Placing his hands on his hips, Buck looked down, unsure if he should answer your question. “Let's just say what I heard, I didn't like. And both myself and Bucky have been doing our best to shut it all down".

That was when you turned around, a sad but thankful smile on your face. Seeing your face and how worn out you look, it pulled at Buck's heartstrings. He could see you were tired, but that was due to the busy last few days. But also he could see the toll how this whole rumour thing was taking on you. When you distanced yourself, it broke his and Bucky's hearts.

They had come to enjoy your company, and your spirit. The three of you always finding something to talk about or laugh at, though it was usually at Bucky's antics. He never understood how women could be so catty. But in some cases, men are just as bad.

“Everything will be alright" Buck said, looking you in the eye. “Give it a few days and it should start to go back to how it was...”

You frowned. “I'm afraid the damage is done Buck. Even if people aren't saying it, they'll be thinking it. I'll be surprised if I don't get pulled in for a meeting over it...”

“Bucky and I will stand up for you".

“That might not be a good idea. It may only make it worse" your voice weary, eyes falling to the ground.

“But none of its true, right?” He questioned, hoping he sounded worried and not accusing.

You should have said no right away, though it might have given him the wrong idea. But the prolonged silence didn't help either. You avoided his eyes as Buck tried to meet them. You turned away from him and wrapped your arms around yourself.

“(Y/N), none of its true...?” Buck repeated himself, now with worry.

You sighed. “No...except for one thing...”

Buck moved closer to you. “What is true? You have to tell me so I, Bucky and I can help".

Thinking he was going to place a hand on your shoulder, you flinched, taking a few steps back. “I-it's embarrassing...and childish...”

Buck remained silent, urging you with his eyes to go on.

You sighed. “I-it's my feelings...for you" you ended on a whisper.

But Buck still heard it. He had heard how some women had gossiped about you being in love with him. And he had found it ridiculous. You were friends, that was it. So he had thought. But now, from your admission, those women had been right. Which didn't help the unease he was feeling over it all. He felt angry that they had spread your true feelings. Feelings you had kept to yourself, never acting on. Unlike some women he had seen. They were more shameless then you.

“I see...” he stated, voice calm and gentle.

“Yes...now you know how silly I am" you started, feeling tears rise in your eyes. “How silly I am to be in love with you. When I know I shouldn't".

“It's alright" Buck said reassuringly. “It happens...”

Those words hurt, like a slap to the face. Like he was trying to play it off, or sweep it under a rug. Like it didn't matter. Well it didn't, but some kind of assurance would have been nice. But in stead, Buck was keeping you at arms length over it. And it sparked different emotions in you; anger, frustration, hurt and sadness.

“You think I wanted this to happen? You think I, of all people, wanted to fall in love with you” you said with a strained voice. Tears in your eyes, which you were managing to hold back for now.

The look on Buck's face was like pity, how his eyes looked guilty and in despair. “(Y/N)...” his voice soft and weary.

“No Buck, don't" you held up a hand. “I don’t, can't hear it". A tear escaped and ran down your cheek. “I don't want to hear your kind words, as you let me down...I know you have Marge. And I shouldn't have let myself get carried away with being around you and Bucky. But you were both nice to me, the company that I needed. Yet I let my feelings get away from me...”

You dropped your hand, your shoulders slouching slightly as you looked down. Unable to face the gorgeous Major who'd stolen your heart. From the dashing smile, to his warm heart dancing with Meatball, and everything in between. Major Gale Cleven was the man of your dreams, but he belonged to another. A woman that Buck spoke fondly of on the nights when you had to bunker down as bombs went off near by. A woman that made you feel less than in just about every way, except being a nurse during the war.

“Marge is a lucky woman...” you stated with a small laugh. “You're lucky to have a woman like her waiting for you back home...no doubt you'll both be happy" you voice dropping at the end.

It was silent after that. You having said your piece, something that shouldn’t have been aired out, if it wasn’t for the other nurses. Buck was quiet because he was processing your words. Which struck a cord in him. And dare he say that he felt for you. Over this time together, bonded in the worst way, he had grown closer to you. He sort out your company and spirit, especially after returning from a mission that was tough. He revelled in your sunshine. Seeing you like this hurt his heart.

Neither knew what to say after all that. Buck had opened his mouth and closed it a few times. Hoping when he would go to speak the words would come to him, but there was nothing. He should have agreed with you, and said he appreciated your affections. But he couldn't. Because a small part of him liked this, and wanted it from you. And even a part of him at one point had entertained the idea of you.

But he let it be just that, a thought. He had a girl back home waiting, a sweet thing who wrote him letters and cared. Could he really lose that? Or juggle both? No, he wasn't that kind of guy. Yet Buck had feelings for you, that weren't entirely friendly.

“F-forget this ever happened Buck...” you said softly, so softly that Buck wondered if you spoke at all.

And with that, you took your leave. Heading back to your room. Back to solitude and your thoughts. It wasn't great, but its all you had till either people stopped being asses. Or the war was over. Which ever happened first.

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 13

This is it guys, the chapter of this fic. I have had an absolute blast writing and even more so reading all the comments and tags.

This last chapter is dedicated to all those who wanted the moms to bring Steve into their fold. This was also chance for Steve to rip on the haters without fear of his parents ire.

Thank you so much for all the love and support for this little story.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

****

Claudia was waiting at the Byers’ front door when Eddie pulled up in his van and Steve hopped out.

“Eddie!” she cried happily. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“Hey, Mrs. H,” Eddie said with a wave. “I’m just dropping Stevie off. We’re hanging out later.”

“That was sweet of you, dear,” Claudia cooed.

Steve in the meantime was pulling things out of the backseat of the van. Eddie looked over at him.

“You need help, darlin’?” he asked over his shoulder.

Steve shook his head. “I’ve got it. Thank you, though.” In lower voice he muttered, “I love you and I’ll see you later.”

Eddie gave Steve’s forearm a squeeze and then waved at Claudia. He backed out of the driveway and was soon gone from sight.

“We’ve got all sorts of surprises for you today, Steve,” she said gleefully clapping her hands together.”

Steve grinned at her. “Mrs. Peterson here yet?”

Claudia shook her head. “She’s always at least fifteen minutes late. Something we were banking on actually.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

But Claudia just ushered him inside. He set his stuff down and then handed her a tray.

“I made blondies,” he said, “I hope you ladies like them.”

She peeled back the foil and gasped. “Steve they look amazing!”

Joyce came out of the kitchen wiping her hands. “What looks amazing?” she asked peering over Claudia’s shoulder. She, too, gasped when she saw them. “Steve, you didn’t!”

Steve grinned. “Your sons always eat the ones I send home with them before they even get home, so I figured you’d appreciate these.”

She kissed his cheek. “You are a dear.”

Claudia laid them out on table next to all the other treats.

On the coffee table were a bunch of things under a large sheet with clowns on it.

“The three of us,” Karen began, “wanted to do something extra special for you after hearing what fun our children had at the Fair because you made sure they did. So we each contributed something toward your love of sewing.”

She lifted the sheet. Underneath was a beautiful sewing kit in navy blue, a light green Singer sewing machine that looked older than he was, and a stack of old patterns.

Steve’s lip wobbled as he raised his hand to his mouth in shock.

“You didn’t have to do this, ladies,” he whispered.

“The sewing kit is from me,” Karen continued. “It’s a beginner’s kit, but it has fabric scissors, a seam ripper, bobbins for your thread and different kinds of needles.”

Steve sat down and pulled it onto his lap. He opened it and as he lifted the lid, the top tray pulled back revealing the tray beneath. “Thank you.”

“The sewing machine,” Claudia said proudly, “is the first one I ever owned. When I got married I got a new one and I’ve been using that ever since. But this ol’ girl has a lot of love and life left in her, and I want you to have her.”

Steve looked up at her, tears forming in his eyes. “Aren’t you worried that I’ll break it? Or that my parents will find it and destroy it?”

Claudia knelt in front of him. “It’s gonna be kept at my house until you get a place of your own. You’re there all the time to see Dusty anyway, no one is going to notice that you’re there to sew now, too.”

“Plus,” Joyce said with a grin. “It’s a Singer. They’re a little hard to break. They’re one of the best machines and it will probably outlast your children. So don’t worry about it, okay?”

Steve nodded, his lip quivering. Claudia kissed his forehead and stood back up.

“The patterns are from me,” Joyce said. “Whenever I would have a little extra money I would pick up a pattern or two at the drug store and bring it home. I picked a handful that I thought you’d like since you’re primarily making costumes. And if those work for you, next week I’ll bring another handful you might like.”

Tears started flowing down his cheeks. “Thank you. All of you. This is best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

“Oh honey,” Joyce said softly and suddenly Steve was being hugged on all sides by the moms.

They stayed like that until there was a knock on the door.

“That must be Olive,” Claudia said with a sigh. “I bet she brought those brownies that are totally store bought even though she insists it her grandmother’s recipe.”

Steve snickered. “My mom used to do that. I don’t think she fooled anyone either.”

Joyce grinned over her shoulder as she went to go answer the door. “Olive, dear! We were just getting started.”

“Oh?” the bright voice on the other side of the door cooed. “You’re usually in the full swing of things by now.”

Steve bristled. That meant she knew she was late and was doing it intentionally. He hated people like that. Acting like the rest of them were peasants meant to be waiting on her.

“Steve was just showing us the costumes he made for the kids for the Fair over the weekend,” Karen said sweetly as Steve hurried to get the things he brought to show off out.

Olive stepped into the house with a sneer. “I think it’s so sweet you’re indulging the boy, but I doubt he can hold a candle to Claudia’s years of experience.”

Wow, Steve thought. Not only did she insult him, but she insinuated Claudia was old. What was with this old bag?

Claudia smirked. “It’s true that I’ve been doing it for longer, but Steve has a real talent for it. Come see.”

Olive walked into the front room and Steve was struck by how much she reminded him of his mother. She had perfectly curled hair with not a single strand out of place. Her clothes were fitted and showed off her figure. Her makeup was flawless.

In short, Steve hated her on sight.

Joyce handed her the shirt he had made for underneath his tunic. It was flawless but understated.

Olive took the shirt and scoffed. “You couldn’t have done this, Harrington, you shouldn’t lie to your betters.”

Steve was already seeing red. “I guess I’ll just have to prove it to you then.”

Joyce clapped her hands together. “All right, let’s get started. Steve, you can eat as much as you want, but just make sure to keep it away from other people’s projects.”

Steve smiled at her sweetly. “Of course!”

He knew that what she was really saying was that Olive Peterson might try something.

He sat in the armchair away from her and she glared at him.

“Is it all right if I work on my project first before you teach me how to use the sewing machine?” he asked just as she was taking a drink of punch.

Olive was forced to turn away and cough into her hand to avoid spraying everyone with the lemonade that Claudia had made.

Karen’s smile was feral. “I don’t see why that would be a problem, right, Claudia?”

“Of course not, Steve,” she replied warmly. “Just let me know when you want to learn and I’ll come over and help you.”

Steve nodded. He pulled out the materials that Eddie suggested he bring and got to work.

Eddie really liked that Steve’s bags had a lining because it protected the dice better, so Steve had brought along some materials he could use for that as well.

About halfway through his first bag, Joyce called out.

“Steve? What’s that pattern you’re putting on the bag?”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “It’s my signature! I embroider it on everything I do to make sure people can’t pass it off as their own.” He handed the bag over to her.

“Oh!” she cried in excitement. “This is the design you put on Will and El’s costumes when you did their alterations, right?”

Steve nodded. “I hope you don’t mind. I know you made the clothes, but I thought it was a cute way to tie the two together like they were twins.”

“It was perfect,” Joyce said. “El still hasn’t stopped talking about how pretty your design made the dress.”

Steve blushed as he took the pouch back from her.

“I was talking to someone at the Renaissance Fair,” he said shyly, “and she wanted me make them clothes and things that she would sell for me. She even told me to make business cards in case someone wanted to commission me directly.”

“Oh Steve!” Karen cried. “That’s wonderful!” She clapped her hands together and tilted her head. “I have to admit I’m a little jealous. That pattern is beautiful. I would love a handkerchief with that on it.”

Steve straightened up. “Yeah?”

Karen nodded.

“What color would you like?” he asked excitedly.

Karen tried to protest but he wouldn’t let her. In fact he managed to convince all but Olive to let him make them one for them.

It did, unfortunately take him to the end of the two hours, but he was excited to come next week.

“I’ll even host it at my place!” he said with a grin.

Olive sputtered. “Well I won’t be there if it’s at this young man’s house. That’s so inappropriate.”

The three other ladies looked at each other and then shrugged.

“Your loss,” Karen said dryly.

Olive stormed out of the house vowing that as long as Steve was part of the group she would never come back.

“Well that is a relief,” Joyce said, “I’m not the kind to speak ill of anyone, but we really got quite the upgrade!”

Karen clapped her hands. “Indeed. I can’t wait for next week. I’ve got a new project I’m starting and I found the best recipe for a chocolate mousse that I’ve been dying to try out.”

“Same time next week, ladies?” Steve asked.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Claudia agreed.

Then there came a loud honk.

Steve looked out the window and smiled. “Looks like my ride is here.”

He gather up his stuff, including the patterns and sewing kit and walked out to Eddie’s van.

He slid into the front seat.

“You have fun today, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, pulling out of the driveway.

“Yeah,” Steve said looking fondly at the house. “This has been the best weekend ever.”

Eddie grinned. “Well, it’s about to get even better, just wait to you see what I have planned for us today.”

Steve smiled as Eddie regaled him with his plans and nodded along.

Life was really looking up. He had a platonic soulmate, good friends, an amazing boyfriend, a hobby he enjoyed and could make real money from, and now a group of people to share that hobby with each week.

And to think it all started with a flier about the Renaissance Fair coming back to Hawkins.

“I can’t wait,” he breathed once Eddie was done.

Eddie smiled that sweet smile at always turned Steve’s insides to mush.

Yeah, Steve could honestly say that he was happy.

****

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @carlyv @gregre369 ​

@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach

@danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

@useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss

@croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv

@dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter @cryptid-system

[itsphoenix0724]

Hold Me Gently (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: Azriel knew exactly what he signed up for when he became the court's spymaster, but sometimes everything gets too much for him to handle.

Warnings: Smut, angsty, negative thoughts about oneself, some dark stuff mentally

Word count: 1.6k

Bonus Chapter!

A/N: Hi loves! I'm excited to put this out for you guys I've been working on it for kind of a hot minute. Please read the tags carefully. I hope you all enjoy it, and as always constructive criticism is welcome. Plus I've got a special surprise coming in December that I may announce later this week so keep a look out. <3

Azriel swore sometimes he could still hear the screams that echoed off the stone walls of the Hewn City rattle around in his brain for days. Rhys had been clear this time. 

Get the information through whatever means necessary, no matter what. 

So that’s exactly what he had done, and it had taken hours. He sent Rhys a message with the information and winnowed directly into your bedroom. He knew you were downstairs in the kitchen because he had sent his shadows earlier to watch you, but he couldn’t bear to have you look at him right now. To have you look at him like he was the most amazing thing in the universe when you had no idea what horrors he committed just an hour earlier. Azriel hides his shame from the portrait of his mating ceremony, turning away from even your painted adoration. He is not the smiling male in that picture. He is not the male who deserves to put his blood-stained hands around your waist. He doesn’t deserve any of it. Not your kindness, not your comfort, not your kiss, or your smile. Not when he spent half the day ripping a man apart. 

Maybe that male had a mate waiting at home too. 

He sneaks carefully into the bathroom, turning the bathtub's faucet to boiling and letting the tub fill. Az peels off his leathers layer by layer, and they hit the clean white tile with a sickeningly wet sound, none of the blood is his. As he watches the red slowly seep onto the floor he knows that the tile’s just another thing he’s ruined. 

He wishes he could peel his skin off as well. 

Azriel sinks slowly into the tub, letting the sting of the hot water work every muscle. He wanted to erase everything, to let the water cleanse away his disgusting actions. His shadows send a whisper of you humming quietly from the kitchen and he almost bursts into tears. How had the cauldron given him someone someone so gentle? How did you wake up in their bed every day and not know you slept next to a monster? Az sinks under the surface, unable to bear the rushing in his head, and doesn’t come back up until his lungs are screaming for air. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You knew something was wrong when your mate didn’t immediately come to see you after returning from his mission. You had heard the faucet start to run while chopping vegetables for dinner, and you assumed Az was quickly rinsing off before he joined you. After half an hour had passed you started to become concerned. You knew your mate, and even though he never told you specifics, he sometimes needed time after his return from the Hewn City. You silently creep up the stairs of your home, avoiding all the creaking floorboards that might tip Azriel off. You swing open the bedroom door, but he is nowhere to be found the only evidence of him is a trail of blood that sends your heart into overdrive. You follow it to your bathroom door, now more worried about his safety than anything. The bond beating in your chest is dark, and it has been since Az left your bed this morning. Throwing open the door you’re met with a wall of crushing darkness. You fight through the swirling blackness, trying to call Azriel’s name, but you can’t see two feet in front of you. A rouge shadow comes to circle your wrist dragging you to your mate’s hunched form in the bathtub, base instinct takes over as you climb into the water hissing as the burning water scalds your thighs. “Azriel,” You call his name, taking his head in your hands. His hazel eyes seem unfocused like he’s looking through you than at you. “Az,”  you rush out again. “Are you bleeding? Are you hurt?” You tilt his head this way and that way before scanning the rest of his body. You shake him at the shoulders trying to get him to see you. Finally, as if Az just realized you were there, he looks at you. 

“The blood isn’t mine.” is all he says before his head thumps back against the porcelain as if it’s too heavy to hold on his own. Your shoulders sag in relief. “You shouldn’t be in here. Go back downstairs I’ll be there in a minute.” He runs the wet silk of your nightgown in between his fingers. You have no intention of leaving this bathtub until you figure out what's wrong with your mate.

“What’s happened?” You push running your fingers through the threads of his inky black hair. “Did the mission not go well?” Azriel scoffs, looking unbothered, but you can see the muscles in his throat tightening with effort to keep something hidden. You try to pull at the bond again, begging him to lower the obsidian shields he builds around himself, his hands shake with the effort of keeping them impenetrable. He still avoids your eyes, yet you try again refusing to yield. “Sweetheart…” you whisper softly and the Shadowsinger cracks before you. His walls rush down and crash against you like a tsunami, the wave of self-hatred that he had been holding in barrels against you with enough force to bring down the mountains. Silver lines his hazel eyes and your heart almost cracks in two. Wrapping your arms around Azriel you cradle him to your body, his hands tighten around your waist seeming torn between pulling you closer and pushing you away. His shoulders shake with the force of his sobs and all you can do is keep stroking his hair and make soothing sounds, trying to calm him down enough to speak. Az takes a shuddering breath, but the tears still stream down his face. You chase them away with the pads of your fingers. 

 “I do not deserve you,” he grinds out, voice rusty from the tears. You rub soothing circles into the joints of his shoulders and it makes Azriel want to throw up. “I am the monster mothers warn their children about at night. I’ve committed horrors that should make you run away in terror” You shake your head with feverance. 

“I would never run from you Azriel. There is nothing too dark or too ugly that would make me love you any less. I promise you I can handle it.” Azriel does nothing but collapse back against you shaking his head back and forth. “Just talk to me please.” He takes a deep inhale, trying to calm his racing heart. 

“I bled a male dry today. Rhys needed information, and he was harder to break than anticipated.” It’s all the information Az is willing to give. You have to stamp down the fury rising in your own chest. Both at Rhysand for putting your mate through this and at the Hewn City itself. 

You’d tear this court apart brick by brick for making Azriel feel like he’s less than deserving of his life. 

You’ll have to talk with Rhys later because for now, your focus is Az and Az alone. You refuse to allow him to continue to carry on like this, cursing yourself for not realizing the effects of this position wearing on him sooner. 

“Look at me.” You pull his jaw towards you, forcing him to meet your eyes “There is no universe where you are not deserving of happiness. You have a job to do, and I understood that when I accepted this bond. I do not fear you, I do not balk from you, and I do not love you any less because of that.” The bond sings with light as the weight finally starts to leave your mate's shoulders. Golden eyes study you intensely before he hauls you against him in one fluid motion and crashes his lips to yours. He tastes like burning whiskey, and kisses you so fiercely you’re afraid your lips might bruise. You hold him together the best you can, afraid that if you let him go he will shatter into pieces before you. “Are you sure you want this right now?” You ask, you’ll give Az whatever he needs, and if he needs a distraction from his head then you’re happy to provide it to him. He nods, leaning down to press his lips to your collarbone. You run your hands along his back grinding yourself into him, and pour love and devotion down your side of the bond to him. His hardness presses against you as he nudges aside the scraps of lace before sheathing himself into the hilt. You let Azriel take what he needs, fucking you on his length, rocking you back and forth. He’s hitting the spot inside you that makes you see stars with such force water sloshes over the edge of the tub, washing away the blood from Azriel’s leathers. You run your hands along the edge of his wing and he roars, one hand almost cracking the porcelain of the bathtub. He changes his pace to pure brutality, using you like no more than a toy. Your thighs shake with the effort to keep yourself upright. He’s ruthless in the way he moves like a hungry predator finally tearing into its kill. Your orgasm tears through you with blinding energy, and you unravel faster than you’d like to admit, but Az always manages to have that effect on you. He loses himself soon after you, tumbling over the edge with so much force he rips the bottom of your nightgown into ribbons. You stare at each other for a long moment, relishing in the afterglow and grateful for the hot water in the tub. 

“I’m sorry for ripping your nightgown,” Azriel rumbles and you laugh a beautiful golden sound. 

“You can buy me a new one later,” you promise, “but for now let me wash your hair.” 

[eywamygoddesswrites]

— 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓪𝓬𝓬𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽 — (sully family x fem!sully!reader)

pairing: sully family x fem!omatikaya!sully!reader

tags: mourning, getting therapy

warnings: lowercase intended, implied character death, angst

a/n: characters are aged up! this is inspired by that one tiktok audio and then my curiosity got the better of me and turns out, it was a whole youtube series and i was hooked on it. i've been wanting to make a fic based on that audio for a while but didn't know what characters to use. hope you guys enjoy despite it being angst ㅠㅠ

a/n 2: do you want a longer version of this oneshot? look no further because i will be making a short series based on the youtube series called "LUCIDS" and the masterlist can be found here!

word count: 1.1k

+ gif not mine. ctto.

y/n had been keeping herself busy for the past 3 months. she did everything to keep her mind off of everything. weaving baskets and nets like it was a project to give everyone in the clan, fishing for meals that can have her family full for 5 whole months, collecting and discarding every foraged stuff she could get from her endless walks, riding her ilu further and further beyond the reef just to feel something.

being the oldest of the sully kids was tiring but even being a sister wasn't able to make her feel anything. it was much more numbing than it should be. it made her distant from them.

lo'ak couldn't meet y/n in her eyes. it was like if they looked at each other, the walls they both built would crumble the second their gazes meet. it was like strangers being forced to get to know each other after knowing the horrible crimes they both did.

kiri was very concerned for her older sister. y/n exerts her energy beyond her capacity, does dangerous explorations beyond the reef, and sometimes come back with cuts and bruises, and how she would skip meals to finish all the projects she 'needs' to weave. she was overworking herself and in the 3 months y/n was busy, she had fainted countless times eventually norm and max were called when it kept happening.

tuk missed her big sister so much. she missed collecting pearls by the shore and being carried around while exploring the forest. she was scared at how y/n looked now. from once being a bubbly young adult who was curious and eager to learn something new to a drained-out, almost dead-looking na'vi who would kill people if she saw them looking at her weirdly.

if the three were concerned, imagine how her parents feel. it hurt jake and neytiri to see their oldest overwork herself to distract whatever she was feeling. jake knew how it felt like and he wanted to help his daughter badly. but each time he tried to talk to her, y/n would push him away further and further. she even hissed at him to make her point.

neytiri was angry and concerned. why was her daughter pushing her own mother away when all she wanted to do was help? y/n shouldn't push her away because as her mother, neytiri understands her more than y/n knows, or at least that's what she likes to think.

it was like y/n became a stranger that the sully's just allowed to stay in their home.

when y/n was fishing for dinner, her mind had been wandering elsewhere. her eyes stared down at the net she held as dread slowly filled her mind. it was like her sight was enlarging in front of her until she hears a distorted voice call out her name. "y/n."

she pulled away from her trance, eyes widening as her breathing became slightly erratic. y/n breathed in deeply through her nose and out through her mouth before her attention went to ao'nung, or what looked like ao'nung by the shore.

"hey there! just a quick update. tsireya is still swimming with the ikrans, who were gliding through the mountains on their bellies, then they ate an eye of a seaweed. now, the ilus and tulkans are fighting for some reason." ao'nung said, he was far away from y/n but somehow she heard everything clearly.

"oh… wow…" y/n says, clearly not understanding a single thing from what the metkayina had just said.

"how's your existential crisis coming along?" he asked so nonchalantly.

y/n was bewildered to say the least. this was the longest time she had held a conversation for how many months now.

"uh… fine?" she answered back but it sounded more like a question. "good!" ao'nung exclaimed back before turning around to leave when,

"ao'nung!" y/n immediately called for him, who turned back around to look. "can… can dreams also have memories?" that sounded wrong. "i mean, can you still have dreams even when you're dreaming?"

"oh, y/n. what else are memories if not dreams themselves?" ao'nung replies, not making as much sense as the question she asked.

"what–" "alright then, more soon!" ao'nung cuts her off before running off to eywa knows where.

y/n was left once again with her thoughts. she turns back to the net she was holding, only for it to be gone. this confused her and when she turned back to where the shore was, the next thing she knew, she was sitting on a giant rock.

"do you blame yourself?" the same distorted voice that called out her name earlier asked. distress filled her veins as she looked to where she heard the voice.

y/n's eyebrows furrowed. "what?" she asked. she saw herself, an exact copy of herself wearing human clothes that norm and max wear with a pen and paper held in her hands.

"well, it's quite common in this situation for a patient to feel a kind of guilt." her copy said, voice distorting more and more.

y/n's mind was in turmoil. "what situation?" she asked. the same dread she was feeling came into full force. her chest became heavy as it caused her to not breathe well.

her copy had this concerned look but the smallest of a smirk appeared on her lips, the following words leaving the copy's mouth. "the accident."

that's when y/n was transported back to the day neteyam had died.

she was there when he was shot through the chest. she knew the bullet was meant for her but he pushed her away and in turn, the faith of death fell upon him.

while the rest of her family had cried, she didn't. instead, she felt numb and angry. no other emotions filled her body except these two. it had helped her kill some sky people and some avatars when she came back to save kiri with her parents but after that, all y/n felt was numbness.

the heavy routine she placed upon herself became the only thing that made her feel something through the numbness she felt. it wasn't enough but at least it was something.

the same distorted voice came back. "it's very common for people to invent blame or create a causality" then the voice became normal in an abrupt manner, and her surroundings turned to norm's lab where he used his avatar and where they were able to breathe normally. "when in reality, it was completely out of your control." norm's voice was soft as he talked to the young na'vi in front of him, who in turn was staring off through the distance.

the forest where she and neteyam grew up, only for her brother to never come back home.

[carlsangel]

BIRTHDAY

carl grimes x reader

(you find carl the perfect gift.)

tags: fluff fluff fluff

masterlist here! (i fixed it btw)

send some more requests!!!

You could never keep a secret from Carl, no matter how serious or how stupid he could always manage to get it out of you. All he had to do was ask repeatedly or when you got really stubborn he’d tickle it out of you. He’s just that kind of guy, he likes to know everything going on in that brain of yours. But more importantly he hates secrets.

That’s why when his birthday rolled around you had no idea what to get him or how you would even keep it from him. You’d done the classic comic gift maybe two times before already. Last year you had gotten him a vinyl for his record player and he was happy with it.

Carl didn’t care for gifts at all, he believed your presence was enough but gifts sort of just gave him something to enjoy with you. Every time you’d gotten him a comic, you read it with him. When you got him that vinyl, he listened to it with you. He was happy, so you knew whatever you got him this year was something you should enjoy too.

You decided to go out to scavenge with Glenn to see if you could find anything. You went out to a shopping center nearby and looked around there. You thought maybe you could get him a new flannel but you weren’t sure if he’d like it. You found a red flannel and realized he’d hate it.

“Hey, is this ugly?” You asked Glenn who was also digging through racks to find something for Maggie since her birthday was coming soon too. He looked over and cringed at the sight of it. “Yeah that’s- that’s pretty bad..” He looked back to the racks to dig through. “Fair.”

You were so stumped, what could he possibly want? You walk through the store some more, looking around the aisles when you hear something behind you. A small meow. You stop in your tracks and just pause. You loved cats probably as much as you loved Carl. You turn around and look to the floor to be met with the cutest little siamese kitten.

You crouch to the floor and let him walk to you. You melt at how adorable he is before gently picking him up. You need to show Glenn. When you find Glenn, his eyes are locked on the racks of clothes still. “Glenn.” You try to get his attention but his eyes wouldn’t pry away. You stick the cat out in his direction. “Glenn look.” He rolls his eyes and turns to you to be face to face with a cat and he almost jumps a little.

“Oh- jesus christ. Where…” His voice trails off when he realizes what you’re asking. “No. Nope. That thing probably has fleas.” He replies backing away. “But he doesn’t I already checked and even if he does we can treat it, can’t we? Cmonnn for Carl’s birthday.” You smile pleadingly. Glenn sighs and agrees. “Fine but if I get in trouble with Rick or Michonne, you’re dead.”

You smile and thank him. You look around the store for some more stuff you might need like the cats food or maybe a collar or something. You find everything and a couple a toys before you guys leave back to Alexandria. You knew getting back home would be tough, Carl’s birthday isn’t till tomorrow so you needed a way to hide the cat.

When you approached the gates you knew you’d have to be quick to hide him. You couldn’t ask Glenn since he’s already at risk of being scolded because Rick would usually never agree to letting you bring an animal home. So you thought of someone Rick can’t get mad at.

“That ain’t happenin.” Daryl says as you’re standing at his doorstep practically begging him to let you keep the cat there for the night. “Daryl it’s just for tonight? Please? It’s the perfect gift for him and I can’t keep it at our house he’ll find out and I don’t want it to be spoiled.” You pout. It kinda worked.

“If it shits in here you’re cleanin it up.” He grumbles, taking the cat from your hands and your bag of supplies. You thank him and praise him for doing you the favor. Now it’s just a matter of keeping it from Carl until the morning.

You and Glenn had come back from the run quite late so it shouldn’t be that hard. Maybe an hour and you can spend half of it in the shower. You walk into the house and Carl was feeding Judith dinner. “Hey how was the run?” He asks, trying to get Judith to eat the food off the spoon. “Fine.” You muster up. He’s confused as to why you’re being so short with him. “Find anything interesting?” He adds. “No. Not at all, I think i’m gonna go shower.” You make your way over to the stairs and he chose not to push it. He knew something was up, maybe you actually hadn’t found anything and you were upset about it. Or you were up to something else.

You had to wake up early the next morning in order to surprise him properly. You walked downstairs to see Carol cooking his breakfast and she flashes you a smile before going back to work. You head back over next door to collect the cat. You walk in and Daryl’s looking down in the box he had kept him in. He notices you and looks at you for a moment before speaking. “He shit in the kitchen.” He tells you before walking past you and out the door. “What the fuck, Daryl?” You giggle.

You handle it of course due to your guys’ agreement. You gather everything and head back over to finally surprise Carl. Rick and Michonne didn’t even realize you’d gotten him a cat so they found out when Carl did. They didn’t care, however, they knew the both of you would parent that thing like it was your damn newborn. You walk into your guys’ room and see he’s still soundly asleep. You gently place the cat on him as he sleeps and you poke him to wake up.

“Wh- woah what-“ Rick and Michonne giggle at how delirious he was. “Happy birthday.” You smile, waiting for him to process. He sits there for a moment to do so. “Wait we can keep it?” He croaks out. You look to Rick and Michonne and they look to each other. They look back to the both of you and nod, finally giving in. “Thank you.” He smiles as you lean down to kiss his forehead.

The rest of the day went perfectly, you guys spent the whole day together and got to do whatever it was you wanted, like going out to the woods with your new cat. Carl had his birthday dinner and afterwards you both went upstairs to rest from your eventful day.

His birthday ended perfectly. Laying in bed with his favorite person and his new kitten.

It couldn’t get any better than that.

a/n: i hope you likedddd ittttt this one’s one of my favorites now UHHH i didn’t give the cat a specific name bc i wanna leave that to you guys to name him muehehehe lowkey reply with a name you’d give the cat :P THIS REQUEST WAS ADOOORABLE THANK YOU ♠️