#task: turkey

[gomzdrawfr]

🎃happy thanksgiving🦃

reblogs are appreciated!

[link]

[pinkd3mon]

Free them

Day 7 of drawing kirby shitpost for every day of October

[novathesheltie]

such a difficult life

[drpeppertummy]

any time im giving dude ocs (including sonas) features im Coming To Terms With about myself (short, fat, long hair, shaped like grimace, etc) in an attempt to create Self Love And Gender i can never give em All those features. like theyll be short & fat but have short hair. or theyll have long hair & dress like me but be tall & skinny. i have one fursona that kinda meets all the criteria but its not a fursona i really like. I Have To Make Up A New Fursona (or redesign my turkey vulture fursona but idk if ill be able to make them into something im happy with while still keeping the bird features)

[scratxhed-cd]

Posting for accountability but while Ik I have a long way to go to deal with my phone addiction getting off tik tok and limiting time on Instagram reels already makes me feel so much better even if the main reason is just reducing the guilt I feel for wasting time

It also helps I’ve been helping my dad with house stuff recently so now instead of a couple hours on my screen I spend a couple hours mowing the lawn and painting our windows.

[bagofshinyrocks]

Government name vs Military callsign

Prompt: What scares them worse? Addressing them by their full government name, or addressing them by their military callsign?

Featuring: Task Force 141 (CoD: MW2) - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (separately) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Warnings: none

John Price

Government name.

Calling him Captain or Skipper just ends with him sauntering to where ever you are and ask (in an obnoxiously self-satisfied voice) what you wanted. Like a cat pretending it can’t hear the urgency in your tone when you say to get off the counter.

“If you want me to ‘shake a leg’, call my name, luvie.”

Now if you holler “Jonathan Price”, he’ll drop something. Either the newspaper in his hands, or his heart into his stomach. He sure as hell moves his ass with a purpose, and he’s peering into the room with an apology on his lips.

“Yes, luv? What’s wrong, poppet?”

“Lift the other end of the couch, would you?”

He does, and you shimmy it further back in the room. “Anything else I can do, love o’ my life?” He’s hovering, and gently coaxing you into his arms. Gauging how mad you were at him. You curled into him and kissed his chin. Then stepped away with a pat to his chest.

“No, sweetheart, just wanted you to shake a leg is all.”

When he remembers your previous conversation, he groans and tells you to fuck off.

Simon Riley

Military callsign.

When you two are alone, and he’s already given you permission to call him Simon, don’t call him Ghost. When you say that word, he assumes one of his mates are at the door or on the phone, and goes from Simon to Ghost. Stalks into the room with narrowed eyes, only to find you in the kitchen. By yourself.

“Ghost, you want a sandwich too? Turkey and cheese.”

“Fuck you callin’ me that for?” 

Once he sees you’re alone, he swoops in and wraps around you like a hoodie. A firm kiss to your ear, then your cheek, then spun you around. Back pressed to the counter top. Settles his face right close to yours.

“We playin’ games now?” You didn’t want to upset him, so you pressed a kiss to his nose. His grumpy look faded a bit.

“Sorry, baby.” Arms wrapped carefully around his shoulders. And your fingers scratch his scalp. Another kiss to his nose. “I’m sorry for playing games with you. Simon Riley.”

Hearing his name on your lips finally cracked, and he gave you a smile. A little scar on the upper lip. You gave it a kiss, and then pressed a kiss to his lips. 

A quick surge forward, and you only just had time to shove aside the things behind you before you found yourself on the countertop.

Kyle Garrick

Government name.

He doesn’t mind being called Gaz, and you’ll use Kyle and Gaz interchangeably. Doesn’t even mind if you use “Kyle” or “honey” in front of his squadmates. Though “Kylie” he does have some displeasure with.

“I’ll have you know, Soap is still calling me Kylie, you asshole.”

Call him ‘Garrick’, and he knows that you are pretending to be mad at him. He slinks over and rubs his face against your cheek. He’s too cute for you to stay mad.

If you shout “Kyle Garrick”, he comes running. He could have sworn that he put his clothes in the hamper. And did the dishes. And taken out the recycling. Damn, what was it that he forgot?

“Kyle Ga-”

“Yes, dear!” Shit, he didn’t mean to ‘yes, dear’ you. “Yes, my dear, I’m right here.”

You pause your laundry folding and summon him with a crook of your finger. Once he’s close enough, you tap your lip with the same finger. “I need a kiss.”

He blinked once. Then twice. “God damn you.” He squishes your face in his hands and gave you a quick, firm kiss. “Don’t stress me out like that. Thought you were mad.”

“Give me another kiss, or I will be.”

He rapid fire kissed your mouth, chin, and cheeks, then gave you a smack on the ass before returning to the living room. 

“In my own fucking home,” he muttered.

John MacTavish

Military callsign.

He’s got some thick skin. And he’s had his name shouted angrily many a time. He would all but skip into the room with a big smile on his face. The only people who shouted that name (and wore out the scare-factor on it) were his family members. Shouting “John MacTavish” meant you loved him. You were also mad at him, but you loved him. That was more important. Even with your scowl and the gross pile of garbage he kept forgetting to take out. You loved him.

Now shouting his callsign reminded him of his superior officers.

“SOAP!”

Shit shit shit. He put down his beer and ran from the garage to the backyard. Leg brace over his sweats, low cut muscle shirt that you also wolf-whistle at when he wears. You were only weeding the garden boxes.

“JOHNNY!”

“I’m here, bonnie,” he hollered, rounding the corner. You were sitting in the dirt, a tidy pile of weeds and dead plant bits next to you.

“C’mere, c’mere.”

He leaned down next to you, hand on your shoulder and good knee on the ground. “Wassit?”

You pointed to the leaf in your hand. “A caterpillar, Johnny. An itsy-bitsy caterpillar.”

He sighed heavily and kissed your shoulder. “Bonnie, I thought something was wrong.”

“Hm?” You spared him a glance. “What are you talking about, bubba?”

“You called me Soap.”

“Did I? Didn’t mean to spook you, loverboy.” You gave him an apologetic kiss on the lips. “Just wanted you to see the caterpillar before he wiggled off.”

Posted: 2023 Dec 10

[helena-refur]

Recipe for Turkey Tenderloins A simple yet festive main dish. If you're not up to the task of roasting a turkey this dish is for you. Serve with Cranberry Chutney. Originally submitted to ThanksgivingRecipe.com.

[girlivealwaysbean]

my sis is the most cute and annoying person of all time and i love her

[reiderwriter]

📃 Desk Duty 📃

Unit Chief Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Summary: After taking a bullet on a case, Spencer orders you to desk duty. After two months of pushing papers and his pushing you away for fear of hurting you, you've had enough.

Warnings: Established BDSM scenario, public sex, masturbation (female and male), mentions of sex toys, breaking and entering, multiple orgasms, squirting, shoe riding, slapping (ass, face, pussy), wet/dirty/messy sex, deep-throaring, face fucking, exhibitionism, risky sex, creampie, sloppy sex, pet play (puppy), Hard Dom Spencer, bratty sub reader, degradation (slut, whore, bitch used). Confessions of love at the end because I'm not a monster.

A/N: Hello, it's me, painfully single, back with another in a series of fics that I think will haunt my (wet) dreams for eternity. Thank you to @lightvixxen for requesting shoe riding all those moons ago, I am so glad we share in the same brand of brain rot. Enjoy~♡

Masterlist || Bingo Board

The first time you were shot, you were surprised it hurt so much. Of course, you knew it was going to hurt. You knew you'd eventually be shot. 

But the graze to your arm stung like a bitch, and had you whimpering on the floor of a warehouse like a small child who'd fallen off their bike for the first time. 

You'd picked yourself back up, and, luckily, the shot had avoided doing any serious damage, but you were relegated to desk duty for two months after. Just until you could prove you weren't traumatised, and there wasn't any permanent damage to your arm.

Two months of staying home while your boss gallivanted around the country, happily diving in front of bullets and jumping on bombs. Two months of staying home waiting for him to come back and rail you. 

You'd been sleeping with Spencer Reid practically since he'd become the Unit Chief, and with the announcement that there were only a few more weeks left until Emily Prentiss came back from her special task force, you were really losing time alone in the office you'd been enjoying the pleasures of one another in. 

Of course, there would still be motel rooms for you later, but soon he wouldn't have the keys to your room, making your secret trysts slightly riskier. You weren't sure you wanted everyone in the office to know just what it was the two of you were getting up to in your spare time. 

So, with your last two months of freedom relegated to desk duty, you sulked. 

Spencer was clear that he was leaving you behind so you could recuperate, but you didn't exactly expect him to go cold turkey. 

You'd been apart before, having been sent on separate inmate interviews, and you'd made do with a poorly connected video call, a dildo and your hands, getting all the inspiration you needed watching him pump his cock in his fist.  

But somehow, your injury had made him borderline chaste, and he refused to even touch you while you were still in - his words, not yours - recovery. 

It had been a month since he'd fucked you. Hell, it had been a month since you'd even seen his cock. A month since you'd had any kind of orgasm, first because your dominant hand had been out of action, and then because you'd felt so frustrated without him, you couldn't bring yourself to do it alone. 

He messaged you daily, called practically once every eight hours, and made sure you were eating and sleeping even from halfway across the country. 

But he didn't make any mention of your growing frustration, even as you tried your best to tempt him into sin. 

A month into purgatory, you'd started hinting at your own needs. Your teammates had taken a case in Atlanta, and you'd stuck behind a days drive away and heard absolutely nothing. 

You'd called, and Luke had picked up, making his presence known before you could royally screw up and beg for something to fuck. 

“H-Hi, Luke. I was just wondering how the case was going. Is there anything I can help with from the office?” You asked, stammering on the phone as you pulled your hand out from between your thighs. 

“You want to help? At 11pm at night?”

“Sure do! You know me… go-getter?” You stuttered the words, not even believing them yourself, biting your lip in anxiety and hoping that Luke would just think you were going stir crazy. 

“I'll hand you to Reid, he's been talking about some case files you might be able to help with.” 

“Thank you,” you said, breathing a sigh of relief. 

You heard the phone switch hands, and then you heard movement until the line went quieter, and Spencer's voice popped into your ear. 

“Y/N?” 

“I miss you,” you sighed before you could say anything else, fingers sliding between your thighs before you could think to stop yourself. 

“I miss you, too,” he whispered hesitantly, but you heard the smile in his voice as he answered. 

“You're working so late tonight, I'd hoped…” you trailed off, feeling your skin heat as your free hands lipped into your underwear and you touched yourself for real this time. 

“We think he's working under the same MO as the Night Stalker, like a copycat, so we're keeping to late hours. What's that sound?” 

“Nothing,” you said, giving your lie away almost immediately with a moan. 

“Are you… Y/N, are you touching yourself?” He asked, already knowing the answer. 

“I told you I missed you. It's been a month since you've touched me, someone has to do it-” 

“Stop it.” 

His words were blunt, and there was no hint of excitement in them, no telling if he was saying this so he could play a part in your unravelling. 

“What?” 

“Stop touching yourself. Y/N, you are not allowed to touch yourself.” 

“Not-? Spencer, what the fuck!” You exploded, sitting up from your comfortable position on the bed, set alight in indignance. 

“I'm the only one that gets to touch you like that, you're not allowed to cum unless I'm there,” he ground out, and just as you heard the smile in his voice earlier, you heard the frustration and arousal now. 

“Well, Spencer, if you'd have brought me along on this case instead of leaving me here, maybe you'd get a say in who gets to make me cum.” 

“Y/N, you're injured, and you haven't been cleared to fly. A doctor needs to-”

“You're a doctor. Technically. You could sign off on me. You could've had me right there in your bed tonight, but no.” 

He scoffed down the line, and you saw his face flash so vividly in your head that it pissed you off. He was hotter when he was angry. 

“Nice try. I tried that myself once, but it doesn't work. Now go to sleep and get some rest.” 

You opened your mouth to argue, but he hung up. His words lit a fire in the pit of your stomach, and you threw the phone down in frustration. 

He wasn't listening again, and you were sick of it, and you we're sick of pushing paper at a cubical when you should've been out in the field doing your actual job. You were sick of being celibate and at home alone, when you should've been in a dark corner somewhere letting your boss use your body, letting him pin you to the wall and work out his frustrations.  

You should've had your lips wrapped around his cock, you should've had his hands buried in your cunt, slapping your ass, his teeth teasing your nipples, something. 

Instead, you had your phone camera and a bed, and a personal vendetta against the word 'no' coming from Spencer Reid's mouth. If he wanted you to stop touching yourself, he'd better get his ass home and make you. 

Shedding your clothes, you set up your camera and began your week long crusade. 

The first video received a response in the form of a call you let go straight to voice mail as you recorded the second one. 

He didn't call again after that, but you knew he watched each and every video you sent. 

You knew he watched the video of you fucking yourself on a wall mounted dildo in the shower. You wondered if he let him imagine it was him, taking his cock in hand in the morning as he washed and prepared himself for the day. 

You knew he watched the video of you playing with your boobs alone in the elevator at work after hours. You wondered if he was still working late when he saw that one, or if, like last time, maybe Luke had grabbed his phone first and seen it before him. . 

You knew he watched the video you shot in his apartment. It wasn't that hard to get into, knowing exactly where the spare key was hidden and letting yourself in comfortably. You let yourself dress in one of his shirts and set the camera up, pushing a bullet vibe inside yourself, and turning on the camera, playing with the hem of the shirt and the sheets below until you finally flashed the camera and him the sight of your wet cunt. 

You filmed a few videos there, fingering yourself, spreading yourself so he could see just how far you'd opened yourself up for him, sinking down on to progressively bigger silicone cocks and mumbling his name over and over again. 

You knew he watched every video, even though you'd sent ten over the space of an evening. You knew he was likely somewhere stroking his large, hot cock, wishing he was buried deep in you, but too stubborn to let you know that now. 

The day after the case ended, you knew that his return meant punishment, but you couldn't stop yourself. 

An hour before the teams expected arrival time, you excused yourself to Spencer's office. The first time he'd fucked you had been in there. He'd pushed you over his lap and slapped some sense into you, spanking you until you were a drippy mess waiting for his cock to enter you sharp and fast. 

You'd since sucked his cock under the desk more times than you could count, and the view from the window was more than familiar to you as you enjoyed being pushed up against it as he took you from behind, the both of you revelling in the fact that anyone could see you defiling the building together. 

With half an hour to spare before he returned and ended your fun and games, you mounted the arm of his couch and began rubbing yourself against it. You rocked your hips slowly back and forth against it - as horny as you were, it was still embarrassing to be so horny you'd resulted to humping pieces of furniture to meet your needs. 

You'd thought about getting drunk and finding a random dick to take home with you, but it didn't interest you half so much as fucking with Spencer Reid did. You'd never had the talk about exclusivity, but you knew just as well as he did that you were locked in. He was your boyfriend, whether he realised it or not.

And now, you simply needed his cock so badly, nothing else would do. The closest you could get was a piece of furniture he'd fucked you on before. 

You slipped your panties off quickly as your timer sounded a ten minute warning, knowing his plane would be landing any second now. You'd factored in the walk from the jet to the office, praying to the gods above that he took the initiative to get ahead on paperwork instead of going straight home. 

You rocked back and forth on the arm of the couch until his door opened narrowly and he let himself in, just as your clit rubbed the corner of the couch and you moaned out gloriously. 

“Y/N,” he hissed as he slammed the door shut. You didn't stop even as he crossed the room and grabbed your hips, instead lunging for his lips and meeting them with your own. 

Your tongue clashed with him for the first time in a lifetime, and you whimpered at how good he still felt pressed up against you. His chest was a solid shield, and your puffy nipples pushed up against it, rubbing deliciously with each grind. His hands were large, his fingers long as they clawed themselves around your hips and drew you up.

“You just can't follow orders, can you?” He asked between kisses, between breaths where you weren't sure if he'd slap you or shove his fingers down your throat. “I should fire you,” he whispered as he reluctantly pulled away. 

“But Spencer,” you said, gasping jokingly as you pawed at the front of his pants. “Who would you fuck on cases then? Who would be your controversially young fuck doll?” 

You meant it to be a joke, but the slap he delivered to your ass made you think twice as you clapped a hand over your mouth. 

His hands roughly pulled you into him again, and you were unable to rise up enough again before he hit you again. You jilted forwards with a little moan and just gave in to the sensation, pressing your face into the pillows as your hips rose. 

“You're acting like such a desperate little slut, I don't think you deserve to even lick my cock. Fuck, I don't even think you deserve to lick my shoe,” his words cut deep as you realised how angry he was, his fingers tangling in your hair he yanked you upwards. 

“Wait, please - Spencer, please, I need-” 

“Need what? You need to suck cock? You need to put yourself on display in a public place? Need everyone around you to know just what it is we do when we're alone?” With each question, he worked on bruising your ass cheeks harder, until he finally pushed you to the floor, and you sank down, automatically spreading your legs for him. 

“Pathetic. You don't deserve this cock, baby.” 

“No!” You cried out, not willing to accept that outcome at all as you panicked. “I'll do anything, please, Spencer, I'll do anything!” 

You whimpered and cried out in real frustration and fear, knowing that he absolutely would kick you out if you didn't act fast. Spencer may have been fine with you taking control some days, but this obviously wasn't one of them. You sat yourself on your knees and clasped your hands together, attempting to seem half the serious devotee and half the irresistible vixen whose chest was accentuated by the movement.

“Okay. Show me just how much of a desperate slut you are,” he said, lifting his foot from the ground and nudging it between your thighs. 

Reluctantly, you widened your stance, spreading apart just enough for him to notch his shoe against your clothed pussy. 

“Ride my shoe, Y/N. You're such a good little boot-licker. It shouldn't be a problem, right?” As if to answer your own question for you, he bobbed his knee gently, and your clit ground into the edge of his shoelaces, causing a sharp, fast burst of pleasure to spark through you. 

You still were too shocked to answer, but he smoothed your hair from your eyes as he continued to bounce his foot, and you left all of your concerns behind, slowly grinding down. 

“What a dirty little slut, I didn't think you'd actually do it.”

Wrapping your arms around his leg, you pressed your hips up and down hesitantly, looking into his eyes as your mouth dropped open in a silent moan. 

“That's it, good girl,” he said, letting his leg go still as you did all the work, shaking your hips back and forth on his shoe as you gave him pleading looks, unable to form words for the overwhelming shame and embarrassment.  

“You look like a puppy,” he blurted out, grabbing a handful of hair and pulling it back, hard, exposing your throat to him as he watched you with curious eyes. “Like one of those puppies who gets so excited to see you, she starts humping you. So fucking horny and desperate. You wouldn't even care who was in the room with us, right now, would you? You'd just keep going until yiu came.” 

You gasped as he slapped your face, tongue falling out of your mouth as he inspected his little play puppy. He smiled, as if happy with your reactions, and leant back on the sofa, releasing your hair from his grip as you continued to struggle in vain toward your orgasm. 

It was another two or three seconds before you realised he was pulling his hard cock from his pants, and another moment or two before he slid his hands back into your hair and guided your dumb, stupid, wet mouth over the top of his cock quickly. 

You let him move your head just how he liked, let him push you down almost farther than you thought you could go. You ground your bare clit down into his shoe as you deepened your breaths, relaxing your body as you took inch after inch of his cock down your throat. 

His hands were wound so tight in your hair that there wasn't space to move. You gagged, once and twice, but he held you in place still, enjoying the spit that spluttered around the base of his cock, the spasms of your contracting throat against the tip and length of his cock. You breathed deeply, ignoring the feeling of his pubic hair tickling your nose, scratching your cheek as you flattened out your tongue under his cock. You wished he would move, wished he would give you the space you needed to cum faster. 

The desperation of the last few months built up and built up, and you knew that you were close to cumming, your hips rocking out of tempo now, crashing into his foot wildly, ass shaking as you felt his shoelaces rubbing uncomfortably against your thighs. 

“God, what a pathetic little bitch, are you going to cum? Cum on my shoe, whore, show me how fucking desperate you are.” 

You felt the exact moment your body convulsed against him, you knew the exact movement that made you cum, because you felt the flood of moisture pool underneath you as you squirted all over his floor. You made a note of reminding him to replace the rug before Emily returned. 

Your whole body shook as you sat in the pool of your own cum, but he refused to let you pull away. 

“Has my little puppy made a mess? What a shame. You can't stop yet, though.” 

His grip on your face somehow became stronger, though not unpleasant, as he pulled your head up the length of his cock. You spluttered slightly, feeling the tension slip out of you as he emptied your throat. You didn't have more than a second to react before he quickly snapped your head back down over his cock, down to the base of his dick. 

“Keep up, Y/N, this is what you wanted, remember.” 

You choked on his cock, and he smiled down at you, taking your gags for nods as he proceeded to fuck your throat, deep and hard. 

“So wet and warm for me, like a perfect little pet,” he said, hips already lifting off the couch as he tried to sink deeper into you. 

You knew from experience that he'd soon grow tired of the limits of your mouth. He liked to hear you. He liked to see you drooling rather than feel it on his skin. As much as he could force his cock down your throat - and you deeply enjoyed when he did - he could get deeper if he sank into your pussy and you both knew it. 

This part was just to lube his cock up, nice and wet, until he could take you nice and quick without having to touch your pussy. He needed you nice and wet and ready for him, especially on days like today where you'd been nothing but a cock tease in need of a harsh fucking. You deserved nothing more.

As predicted, he pulled your head off his cock after a few seconds and hauled you to your feet. You tried to climb onto him, to grip his cock in your hand and just sink down where you belonged, but he stood, too, lifting you up with him. 

“Window,” he said, and you knew he must be close if he was ordering you around one word at a time. You nodded, but he kept his hands on you, moving you to the window quickly. 

You knew he'd bend you over, take you against the outdoor window, whispering in your ear that anyone outside could see you if they just looked up. Instead, this time, he moved you to the opposite side of the office. The window he pressed you against was the one overlooking your desks, the one where, should he happen to open the blinds, every member of your team would be able to look up and watch you take his dick. 

“Everyone left,” he whispered quickly as he shifted the blinds up an inch so you could see. 

You breathed a sigh of relief noting that it was as empty as he claimed, but it didn't last long as he gently pressed his cock into your cunt, finally filling you how you'd needed to be filled for the last 60 days. 

“Fuck, t-thank you, sir!” 

All thoughts about the office below faded as he lifted your leg in his hand and let it rest on the edge of the window, pushing your face against the cold glass. Your office may have been empty, but that wasn't to say that there wasn't someone working late in the other departments, a janitor happening to pass through. 

You knew, but you didn't care as you begged him to fill you up more and more. 

“Just like that, just like that, yes!!! Fuck yes, Spencer I missed this, I missed you. Missed you so much,” you moaned as your hands slipped down the glass, already fogged with condensation, your hot breath hitting the cold glass. 

“Needed this? You've been fucking yourself nightly for the last week. You didn't need this like I needed this,” he moaned, biting into your neck with a sharp kiss as you moaned loudly for him.

“Two m-months. You haven't fucked me for two months, what else was I supposed to do?” 

He groaned in your ear again, reaching a hand around you and slapping your clit as he formulated an answer. 

“Rest, you were supposed to rest,” he said, thrusts speeding up as your cunt gripped him tighter and tighter the closer you got to your second orgasm. 

He groaned and pressed your face into the glass, holding you there and screwing his eyes shut as you both chased release. 

“I didn't want to rest, I w-wanted to be by your side.” 

His head rested against your shoulder as he felt the last waves of pleasure race towards him. His hand pushed down to your clit and rubbed you, sending you right over the edge with him as he filled you with his cum. 

Neither of you could stay upright, collapsing down to the floor in a heap. Usually when he came inside you, he waited a few moments to pull out so he didn't make so much mess when he did. But in his exhaustion, in your shared bliss of finally reaching that precipice after so long, he slipped out early, as cum was still shooting from him. 

You heaped together on the floor, chests heaving as you lay on top of him, your peace only broken by a single thought. 

“We..-’ you gasped, breathing unsteady. “We need to deep clean this office before Emily comes back.” 

He looked down at you, a look so serious and shocked you wondered if he was angry. And then he laughed. Short and soft, he giggled, and you couldn't help but join in, wrapping your arms around your stomach as it began to hurt, chest heaving from the pain of all your joy. 

He sat up and gave you a hand up as well as you surveyed the damage. 

“The rug has to go,” you said, feeling hot and embarrassed as you noticed the new wet stain on the near offensive fluffy thing. 

“We should probably get some new throw pillows, too,” he remarked, and you nodded with a grimace. You made to stand up, but your legs felt weak, and you wobbled, but he was there to catch you, as he stood. 

"Maybe just a new couch," you muttered, flushed with heat as you remembered how you'd humped the arm rest not even twenty minutes ago.

He closed the blinds before moving back to the couch and sitting you down on his lap once again, such a familiar place for you to be these days.

“You….” He started, worrying g his bottom lip with his teeth. “You really missed me?” 

You startled, taken aback by the question. You thought the videos had made it clear, let alone the last half hour of intimacy. 

“I… Yes, Spencer. I missed you a lot. I always miss you.” 

“You… you do?” 

You nodded again and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. 

“Y/N, when I am no longer your boss, in approximately a weeks time, would you possibly consider being my girlfriend?” 

For the second time in the last two minutes, the man had you floored. And perhaps a little bit angry.

“I'm not… I'm not your girlfriend now?” 

“Hmm? Oh, I-” 

“Because I already told my friends about you, and I was definitely saying the word boyfriend, but if that's not what this is, I can correc-” 

You saw the panicked look in his eye as he pulled you in for one last kiss. 

“That's what this is!” he said frantically, cutting you off when you opened your mouth with another kiss. “I thought you wouldn't think that this was- no!” He kissed you again as you tried again to speak. 

“Listen to me! I'm o-older than you, I thought I had to ask still. Do people not ask anymore?” He kissed you before you could answer. 

“Rhetorical question.”

“I love yo-” you attempted to confess, but his lips covered yours swiftly, even as his eyes opened wide when he pulled away. 

“Wait, no, say that again,” he begged, eyes weak and shiny and absolutely endearingly pathetic. 

You shook your head and sealed your lips, miming, zipping them shut and throwing away the key. 

“Y/N! Tell me again, tell me you love me again,” he said, kissing each of your cheeks. You poked his chest hard, and he kissed you once more. 

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, and kissed you again, trying to draw from your lips the words he had cut off earlier, losing himself in the pleasure of the moment as you sat together in the dark office, totally enamoured with one another. 

[talaok]

Love your writing! Could we please do a cute pregnant reader x Pedro going to and at the SAG awards in honour of our boy winning! 🤍🙏🏼

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x pregnant!reader

a/n: this is how i found out he won btw. I'm so happy for him i cant even, I just love that fucking guy gosh ahhhh (as always this request skipped the line bc it wouldnt make sense in a month)

Gif credits: @tessas-thompson

"thank you" you told him as he emerged from underneath your bump after having slipped your shoes on for you.

Turns out that when you're 7 months and a half pregnant, the most basic tasks like putting on shoes become a two person job.

He only smiled, kissing your belly and then your lips before standing up, offering you a hand to do the same.

"Heels would have looked much better with this dress" you pouted, studying yourself in the mirror, 

You hated ballerinas, but again, you weren't really in the condition to wear anything else.

"You look stunning sugar" he promised, kissing the crown of your head

You couldn't help but snort.

As much as he told you so over and over, together with everyone else in your life... you still struggled to see it, especially now in this uncomfortable dress.

"I look like a stuffed turkey" you sighed "and my boobs are so much bigger than when I first tried this dress, now they look a move away from spilling out"

His eyes twinkled with kindness, with love as he placed his hands on your waist and turned you towards him, away from your reflection.

"You're beautiful sweetheart" he promised, one hand now stroking your cheek as your own hands went to his waist "You're sexy and gorgeous and so fucking hot that if Coco wasn't still here I would demonstrate just how much right here right now" he growled, not giving you time to answer before he kissed you, soft at first, and then once you whimpered, it was like a switch turned and he was fiery and passionate and his left hand trailed to your ass and-

"Pedro!" you scolded him quietly, eyeing Coco on the other side of the room.

"she's seen worse"

She had.

Nonetheless, he took a step back, returning his hand to your waist.

"Thank you" you murmured, looking up into his hazel eyes "and by they way, you look very beautiful too"

You could have sworn you saw red staining his cheeks 

"thank you baby"

You adjusted his shirt, as you got lost in your own mind.

There he was, you beautiful, talented, Emmy, golden globe and SAG award nominated husband, looking every bit as perfect as ever.

And just like that, tears pooled in your eyes

"what's wrong?" he asked, worried

"I just-" you sniffled, trying to fight the tears as your lips trembled "I-I'm so proud of you"

"aw sweetheart" he cooed, half laughing as he wrapped you into his arms.

He'd gotten used to it now, taking care of your over-emotional self was part of his daily routine.

"Y-you just" you cried "you worked so hard a-" another quiet sob "and n- now you're finally getting the recognition you deserve I-"

"I know baby, I know" he cooed, softly kissing the top of your head "thank you" he smiled, his fingers drawing soothing circles on your back "It means a lot to me too,"

"I love you" you murmured, finally raising your head to look at him

"I love you too honey" he kissed you, laughing softly as he pulled back to see tears still running down your cheeks "You're gonna cry the whole night, aren't you?"

"I made the makeup artist use only waterproof products" was your way of saying yes, yes I'm going to, and yes I've already planned ahead

He chuckled, kissing your forehead as his hands trailed to your bump, soft kicks hitting his palms.

"She's excited" he murmured

"She's proud of her daddy too" 

__ __ __

Pedro Pascal.

Pedro Pascal.

Pedro P-

Your husband. they had called your husband.

It was probably comical from the outside, seeing the shock on both your faces as you stared blankly at each other, the way your mouth gaped open, while he slapped a hand onto his, it was like- it was like time had stopped, and the word went completely quiet, until- until-

"oh my god" you breathed, throwing your arms around him and hugging him so tight it probably hurt

He didn't dare speak a word as you leaned away, landing a kiss on his mouth as you gripped his face 

"go" you laughed, grinning like an idiot as tears glimmered into your eyes "go" you urged again, this time, having him comply.

You watched every step, every move, until he was right in front of the microphone, his award in his hands.

"This is umh" he mumbled "This is wrong for a number of reasons-" 

he was in shock, his voice trembling, his eyes watery, but he kept going

"b-but thank you hbo, Bella Ramsey, Craig Mazin, Neil Drukman, Frannie, and -" A shaky sigh fled his mouth, as he chuckled to himself "jeez louise I'm making a fool of myself and my wife is gonna make so much fun of me for it and-"

All the sudden his eyes were on you, 

"my wife" he smiled, his smile brighter than the sun "I wanna thank my beautiful, amazing, intelligent, and perfect wife" he said "I love you y/n, I love you and our daughter more than anything in this world and if I'm here today- If I'm here today is mostly because of you" 

You were shaking from how hard you were crying, from how happy, ecstatic, and euphoric you were for him.

"You've made me the happiest man on this earth, you've made me a dad, you- you're my everything sweetheart" he beamed "so thank you"

He stopped a moment, as if realizing only now this had all really happened

"And now I'm gonna stop talking 'cause I need to get down there to kiss you and try to make you stop crying" he laughed, ending his speech

"thank you, everybody, really, thank you"

__ __ __ 

He did exactly as he said,

he held you tight as he kissed you like the world was gonna end tomorrow, like if he didn't he was gonna die

And when he leaned away- when he leaned away time stopped once again, but as he pressed his forehead to yours, as you lost yourself in each other's eyes, you remembered

"You said it was wrong" you said, both your hands holding his face "but it's not" you shook your head, watching his eyes water "you deserve this baby, you do"

"sweetheart-"

"no" you shut him off, your voice hoarse from the sobs, but it didn't matter, you wanted him to know, you needed him to know "No I need you to understand that you do baby" You smiled "that you worked your ass off and that you deserve every single inch of this award" you took a deep breath, steadying your voice as you looked at him, so many unspoken words traveling between you

"ok?" you asked, finally

"ok" he beamed, kissing you again "God I love you so much"

[natalievoncatte]

19. Bake

Leaning against the doorframe, Lena watched as Kara furrowed her brows in concentration so intense that it seemed her project might burst into flames. Literally. She was was craned over a cookbook on the counter and mumbling to herself about pearl-sized beads of butter and exactly what size a pearl is.

She never admitted it, but Kara sometimes she struggled with metaphors like that, little things that a human would know that eluded one of the last survivors of a doomed planet. The others, even Alex, thought it was cute or funny but they didn’t seem to notice the pain in Kara’s eyes or how lost she looked when she missed something others all knew.

Lena stalked up behind her and leaned over the counter beside her.

“Hey,” said Lena.

“Hi,” said Kara.

“What are you up to?”

“I’m making a pumpkin pie for tomorrow, but the dough doesn’t look right.”

Lena looked over Kara’s work and frowned. What she had was most definitely not pie dough. She then glanced at the fridge and saw the list of things Kara was trying to make.

“Hmm,” said Lena.

She opened the fridge and freezer and looked over Kara’s pantry and sighed.

This would not do at all.

“We’re taking a break,” said Lena.

“We?”

“Yes, we.”

In a few minutes she had an Instacart list cobbled together and had placed the order. Kara pouted when her attempted dough went in the bin, but Lena stood firm.

“Let me help you.”

Kara signed. “I want to do it myself.”

Lena’s heart felt like it was climbing up her throat. Kara was so effortlessly pretty that it was, frankly, unfair. Her glasses were off and her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail and Lena was obsessed. She had on a baggy t-shirt that softened her lithe, muscular frame and hung a little off one shoulder. She looked so soft despite the cords of steel hard muscle that flexed beneath her silky skin.

It made Lena a little panicky. Sometimes she’d think to herself that seeing Kara every time was just like seeing her for the first time, which was exactly like the first time she looked at another girl *like that* as if some pathway had just opened in her brain.

After the grocery order arrived and Lena bumped the driver’s tip to four figures for coming on the day before Thanksgiving, Lena set to work.

“I’ve never seen you cook,” said Kara.

“In the only one in the family who can,” said Lena, as she scrubbed a potato. “Lillian thought doing menial tasks was beneath our dignity, and forbade it. Of course I snuck out to spend time with the staff.”

Kara looked at her softly.

“Let’s get that pie in the works while these boil,��� she said, slipping the potatoes into the pot.

Kara ended up helping more than anything, as Lena worked her way through the list.

“This way we’ll just have to make the turkey tomorrow,” she explained. “The rest will all be done and we’ll have some time to relax before everyone arrives. Is your mother coming?”

“She’s staying with Alex this year,” said Kara.

She was looking at Lena as she spoke, her voice a little distant. A shiver passed down Lena’s spine and she felt her cheeks pink a little, as she glanced away and turned back to grating frozen butter for the pie crust.

Kara sidled closer, seemingly reading the cookbook, but every time Lena looked over, Kara met her gaze and quickly turned away.

“Here you go, darling. Fold it like a letter, turn, fold it like a letter, turn. Do that three times, then back in the fridge for half an hour and we do it again.”

Lena was, in all honesty, doing the real work and giving Kara the simple tasks, like peeling the potatoes (which was easy, because she could not only do so without burning herself, but could also just reach into the boiling water to grab.)

Kara neatly folded the pie crust while Lena mashed the potatoes and pushed them through Kara’s sieve for perfect, Michelin-star restaurant smoothness. Lena was a little daunted by the “green bean casserole”, not exactly standard Luthor thanksgiving fare, but it was easier as she was watched Kara follow her instructions to knead dough for dinner rolls.

They worked in companionable silence, Lena doing one task while Kara did another, and slowly they built up an array of side dishes and a wonderful smelling pumpkin pie that Lena had to practically tear Kara away from. She almost wished she’d made a spare pie for Kara to eat right now.

“I’m huuuuuungry” she pleaded.

Looking over Kara’s now-full fridge, full of delicious Thanksgiving fare ready to be warmed in the oven, she pulled out her phone.

“We’ll get take-away delivered.”

Knowing what she was dealing with, Lena ordered enough Chinese for a small army and ended up picking at spicy beef and broccoli while Kara sat next to her, devouring her own body weight from five different containers.

“Here,” she said, offering Lena a fortune cookie.

Smirking, Lena popped it open and unfurled the little message.

“What’s it say?”

A great opportunity lies before you.

Lena laughed. “Nothing. Now we have to clean up, you know.”

“I can do that, you just relax.”

Lena sank back into the couch -she was tired- while Kara rolled up her sleeves and did the dishes, moving a little too fast for a human, at least until Lena looked over to watch her, studying the flexing muscles in her forearms as she worked. There was something playing on the tv, but it was vastly less interesting.

Kara smelled pleasantly of soap when she plopped on the couch, rocking Lena towards her. She sank back and sighed, letting her head loll over so she could look at Lena.

“Thank you for doing all that work. I’d have been hopeless without you.”

“It was my pleasure,” Lena said, softly.

It was getting late, the sun having long set; they’d toiled in the kitchen past nine o’clock.

It was time for Lena to go home.

Kara looked pensive, pretty eyes downcast.

“You’re coming back tomorrow, right?”

It was an absurd question, profoundly silly, even. Lena had been to every Danvers family get together for the better part of three years now (there was that one missed year, gaping like a void in her chest, but that was over now, they were better, she wouldn’t spend another Thanksgiving drunk on her sofa and sobbing ever again)

Lena wished she’d opened one of the wine bottles. She needed a little help with her courage. Her voice cracked a little when she managed to say, “It’s getting late. I could just stay.”

Her heart was pounding.

Kara’s hand slid along the back of the couch and she crooked one of Lena’s curls around her finger, playing idly with it. They sat close, turned into each other, almost touching.

“You can have the bed,” said Kara. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Lena felt her throat go dry, and squeezed her hands together to keep them from shaking. She was as nervous as a schoolgirl, and it was weirdly delightful. Kara was watching her cocky confidence and a crooked smile.

“I wouldn’t want to put you out,” said Lena. “I trust you to keep your hands to yourself if we share the bed.”

“What will you sleep in?”

“Won’t you let me borrow something?”

Kara made a little gesture with her head. Lena nodded and headed behind the partition that made up Kara’s “bedroom wall” and turned to the clothes rack that served as her closet. Hand trembling, she swept each item aside, stopping when she found an old hoodie.

It was threadbare and the drawstrings were missing and it was much too large for her, but it was perfect, a maroon Midvale High sweatshirt. Lena carefully laid it out on the bed and in a single nervous, trembling motion, pulled her top over her head and set it aside.

It was chilly in the apartment, and her skin pricked with goose pimples as soon as the air hit it. She licked her lips nervously and popped the clasps on her bra before discarding it and dumping the sweatshirt on over her bare skin. The hem hung well below her waist.

Feeling her pulse in her throat, she pushed her leggings down and stepped out of them, then padded back out on bare feet, toes curling from the cold floor.

“You coming?”

Kara’s eyes went comically wide when she saw her, gaze instantly drawn to her pale legs.

“Yep.”

Lena retreated to the bedroom… then realized that Kara hadn’t changed. Lena was standing there awkwardly when Kara strolled around the partition and, in a slightly too hurried motion, pulled her own top off.

She was facing away, her back flexing magnificently as she stretched, now clad only in a soft black sports bra. Lena knew she was staring as Kara pushed her jeans down, revealing a pair of flannel boxer shorts beneath. She turned and looked at Lena.

Oh holy fuck, Lena thought.

“I usually just sleep like this,” Kara said, her voice quivering a little. “Is that okay?”

Lena nodded.

She climbed into the bed, sort of precariously parking on the edge. Kara lifted the covers and slid under, her weight on the mattress making it curve towards her, as though Lena were drawn, by gravity, to her embrace.

She let it take her. She ended up right next to Kara, and the lay turned on their sides towards each other.

Lena wanted to scream. This was a terrible idea.

“Hi,” Kara whispered.

“Hi, yourself,” said Lena.

God, she was right there, those muscles, the silky golden-tanned skin of her long legs (how did she have a tan in November?!), the supernaturally perfect blonde curls, and those big, pretty blue eyes just drinking her in.

Lena snuggled up under the blankets, shifting closer.

“So we’re sleeping in the same bed,” said Kara.

“Yes, I see we are. Though neither of us appears to be sleeping.”

“True,” said Kara, “though one might say that we’re about to sleep together.”

“One might,” Lena agreed.

“English is such a funny language. Someone might be confused if I went around saying I sleep with Lena Luthor.”

“Some might be jealous,” said Lena, arching a brow.

“Well of course. They don’t know what a little snuggle bunny you are.”

Lena grinned foolishly, trying to hide it behind the baggy sleeve of Kara’s sweatshirt.

“You’re wearing my clothes, too. Someone might say we’re going steady.”

“Aren’t we? Neither of us had been on a date with anyone in years.”

Lena wanted to feel bold, she really did, but she was so nervous she could barely breathe.

“Are you okay, baby?” Kara whispered. “Your heart is going really fast.”

Lena nodded. “I’m okay, just, um.”

She felt so silly. Here she was, bold, sassy, uber-confident battle bisexual Lena Luthor utterly tongue tied and helpless and in bed with her best friend.

Kara shifted closer, then closer still. Lena thought she might literally depart from her body when Kara’s legs tangled gently with hers. She stared in astonishment when Kara gently rolled her on her back… by climbing on top of her, slipping an arm around her back while the other hand brushed loose locks from her eyes and swept around to cradle the back of her head.

“Are we really doing this?” Lena choked out. “What are we doing?”

Kara’s face filled her vision, inches from kissing her. Hot breath ticked her lips.

“I think the real question is why did we wait so long?”

“If you don’t kiss me, I’m going to die.”

Kara did, dipping down slowly to brush her lips lightly over Lena’s in the most teasing, potent first kiss she’d ever had, a kiss to make her forget all her other firsts. Then Kara kissed her harder and Lena could feel the need in her, hunger and passion pent up for years.

She responded with her own, pressing her hips up to meet Kara.

“You took my favorite hoodie.”

“I did.”

“Be a good girl, and give it back.”

Lena, it turned out, was a very good girl.

When she woke up the next… noonish, she was still feeling the afterglow. Kara was passed out and snoring next to her, arm casually thrown over Lena’s belly. She slipped out from under it and stretched in the sunlight before pulling the hoodie back on. She’d have to find something more proper to wear, after a shower and some breakfast. She didn’t want to spoil her dinner, but she was hungry. Kara had been… exhausting, honestly.

She wanted to do a little dance, right until she walked out into the main area of the loft, bare-assed and hoodie-clad, and found herself face to face with Alex and Eliza Danvers.

“What are you doing here?” Lena and Alex both yelped at the same time.

Eliza was beet red, but said, “Ah, hello, Lena. You came early?”

(And often)

“I, um, that is, I, we…”

Eliza was bemused now, giving her a motherly smile.

“Why don’t you go change and wake Kara up?”

Alex continued to stare at Lena, the wheels almost audibly spinning in her head.

“Okaygoodidea,” Lena chirped out, awkwardly tugging her sole garment down as she darted back into the bedroom.

A few minutes later, Lena was in the shower while Kara very loudly explained the merits of texting first or just knocking on the door like a normal person, while Alex snapped back that it was technically still her apartment.

When she finally emerged in Kara’s flannel and Kara’s jeans, Alex and Kara were still bickering while Eliza was simply staring at the contents of the fridge. Lena walked over awkwardly (for multiple reasons) and rubbed at her arms.

“I helped Kara get all the other dishes ready. We only have to worry about the turkey.”

Eliza looked up and smirked at her.

“May I just say… it’s about time, sweetheart.”

[gloomwitchwrites]

Their child is getting bullied at school.

Ugh, anon. Are you trying to break my heart? Are you trying to make me ache? I think you are. I really think so especially with a prompt like this.

Firstly, I love some Task Force 141 Dad prompts, headcanons, etc. It's so indulgent on my end. I adore picturing them as fathers. Personally, I see them all as girl dads but that's just me. I didn't do that here, but I still headcanon it. Enjoy some protective 141 daddies.

Presented in four drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Content & Warnings: swearing, hurt/comfort, mentions of bullying

Word Count: 400

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny breathes deep. He needs to calm down.

Johnny goes to one knee, staring into his son’s eyes. “What happened?”

The story drives his irritation higher. It’s frustrating. And nothing is being done about it.

Johnny should be an adult about this. He should let the school handle it. But he also knows that bullies are slick. They don’t want to be caught.

And sometimes all they need is a physical reminder.

“If it happens again, you form a fist. Like this.” His son nods. “Hit them here. Got it?” Johnny points to a spot on his face.

“Got it.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle softly knocks on his daughter’s bedroom door.

She glances up.

“Can I come in?” She nods and Kyle enters, sitting on the bed of her bed. “Your mum told me what happened. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”

“She pushed first.”

“I believe you,” Kyle says softly. “I taught you stand up for yourself.”

“I did.”

“I know you did, baby.” He gently cups her cheek and leans in, placing a kiss on her forehead. “But come to me first. Allow me to help. Okay?”

She leans against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Love you, baby girl.”

John Price

“Enjoy your lunch?”

John’s daughter nods. “Yep.”

“Did you like the blueberry muffin your mother packed you?”

“Yes.”

“And your sandwich?”

“Perfect amount of jelly.”

John frowns. “I know you’re lying, dove. Your mum packed a peanut butter brownie and a turkey sandwich.”

His daughter goes quiet.

“You’re not eating your lunch. Why?”

She bites her lip and John drops to her level.

“Talk to me.”

The words spill out of her, and John goes cold. Someone is taking her lunch, leaving her with absolutely nothing.

John nods, pulling her in for a hug. “I’ll take care of it, dove.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon has to bite his tongue and clench his fist. His irritation is rising. His wife places her hand on his thigh, squeezing it with reassurance.

“It’ll be fine, Simon,” she murmurs.

“Someone hurt my little girl. Our daughter is being punished. I want some fucking answers.”

“I know. But if you go in guns blazing, it won’t help. She’s already upset.”

Simon sighs heavily. His wife is right. He needs to calm down. Being combative won’t help anything.

“And you won’t confront the parents?”

Simon bites the inside of his cheek, growling. “If it stops.”

“Simon.”

“Promise,” he says.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@sapphichotmess @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @daemondoll @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@pearljamislife @ash-tarte @eternallyvenus @spookyscaryspoon @vrb8im

[biyorumlar]

EYESURGERYANTALYA - GOLD

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- High quality

- Advanced techniques

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- Accessibility for local and international patients

Trifocal lens surgery turkey, particularly in Antalya, is another prominent option for individuals seeking multifocal lens solutions. Smart Lenses or trifocal lenses are designed to address three different vision distances, providing patients with enhanced visual acuity across various ranges. The expertise of surgeons in Antalya, Turkey, coupled with state-of-the-art facilities, ensures that patients receive top-notch care and optimal outcomes following trifocal lens surgery. This procedure offers individuals the opportunity to reduce their dependence on glasses and experience improved vision quality for daily activities and tasks. - Trifocal lens surgery in Turkey offers:

- Smart Lenses designed for three vision distances

- Enhanced visual acuity

- Expert surgeons in Antalya

- State-of-the-art facilities for optimal outcomes

Blepharoplasty turkey, specifically in Antalya, is a popular choice for individuals seeking eyelid rejuvenation and excess skin removal. The procedure aims to rejuvenate the face by eliminating redundant skin from the eyelids, resulting in a more youthful and refreshed appearance. With a focus on precision and aesthetic outcomes, blepharoplasty in Turkey is performed by skilled surgeons who prioritize patient safety and satisfaction. Patients can benefit from specialized care, premium services, and comprehensive packages tailored to meet their individual needs, making blepharoplasty a sought-after cosmetic surgery option in Turkey.

- Blepharoplasty in Turkey offers:

- Eyelid rejuvenation - Removal of excess skin

- Focus on precision and aesthetics

- Skilled surgeons prioritizing patient safety and satisfaction

[devildomwriter]

So This is Christmas | Lucifer x Reader

1.1K+ words | GN! Reader | CW: slightly suggestive toward the end

Home. A word that gave Lucifer an insurmountable amount of stress.

Home is where his brothers were wreaking havoc. Home is where you weren’t, because of family holiday traditions in the human world. Home is where his six greatest enemies lived and not a place he could quietly relax. And he desperately needed to relax.

Something had gone wrong with Santa again this year and the replacement wasn’t ready to take over. He didn’t see why it should be his issue but Diavolo entrusted the task to him so for a week he ran after Santa with a whip threatening everyone at the workshop and most of the toys weren’t even going to human kids as they were all very misbehaved.

Lucifer sighed as the house of lamentation came into sight and he was hit with a wave of dread. Thankfully it hadn’t burned down, there was a new hole but it’d been decently repaired and wasn’t an immediate concern, and there didn’t appear to be any water damage from Leviathan. All in all, this was a win and a very rare one.

Lucifer expected some kind of ambush walking through the doors, most likely from the Anti-Lucifer trio which was down to a duo with ___ gone. But what he got instead sent him into a state of shock.

He opened the doors and inside it was…beautiful. Beautiful in a way he was still becoming familiar with. It was decorated perfectly for Christmas and for the winter season.

Lights with pine wrapped around the railings, pictures on the wall were replaced with ones they’d taken from Christmas in previous years, the carpet was red and green and he could see a large tree in the dining room.

He grinned but remained alert. His brothers were suspiciously quiet which was never a good thing but when he saw why his concerns were through the roof.

There at the table sat his brothers smiling and welcoming him home.

Lucifer froze. “What. The. Hell. Did. You. Do.” He asked sternly and they shrunk in on themselves. Beelzebub remained unaffected as he was eating the turkey whole.

Asmodeus batted the back of his head and he let out a “hm,” and waved at Lucifer with a roll in his hand.

“Lucifer!” The most beautiful sound in the world to him graced his ears and he spun around to see you there in festive attire.

His heart melted and the anxiety completely melted away as you stood there, hands behind your back, innocently smiling at him.

“___,” he breathed and outstretched his arms as he walked to you. You met him halfway and embraced him.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, delight in his voice. His immediate change in behavior annoyed his brothers but they were getting more used to it.

“I came to spread some holiday cheer. I heard what Diavolo made you do.” You explained and Lucifer sighed loudly and rolled his eyes.

“Don’t remind me.” He mumbled and you nodded and took his hand, leading him to the large meal you’d helped set up.

You’d been on a video call with Mammom when you’d heard all hell break loose because Lucifer wasn’t there supervising. You saw the roof cave in and you knew there was no way you were letting it stay like that even an hour, not when Lucifer could get home any minute, it would absolutely ruin his holiday.

So, like the master you were, you ordered the brothers to repair the wall, stop fighting, and cook a nice meal while you used magic to decorate the house. But Lucifer didn’t need to know about all that drama. All he needed now was a nice meal, some drinks, and of course you.

And it was very clear what he wanted most was you. He moved your chair next to his at the table, leaving less than an inch of room between you as he cut your food for you and began spoon-feeding you with affection sparkling in his eyes.

Beelzebub nearly gagged on his food and the others were very clearly perturbed by the situation so ate more quickly than they normally would. A small fight broke out between Mammon and Beelzebub but Lucifer and you shot them a glare and that was all it took for Mammon to give up the turkey leg and let Beel have it.

Lucifer happily finished eating the human world food and set aside his plate for Leviathan to grab as it was his turn to clean the dishes.

Leviathan grumbled something about normies and took the plates and knives away.

“Did you like it?” You asked Lucifer giddily and he nodded and dabbed his chin with a napkin before wiping crumbs off your face. You never wiped your mouth after dinner because you knew Lucifer would do it for you and the small display of grooming filled you with happiness.

Sensing your delight with his small touch Lucifer got up from his chair and held his hand out for you to take.

“Will you accompany me tonight?” He asked you in a gentlemanly manner and you laughed and nodded while Mammon audibly gagged in the next room. This made Lucifer laugh as well and he swept you off your feet to carry you upstairs to his room.

“What would you like to do tonight?” You asked him and he smiled.

“Anything at all, as long as it’s with you.”

You were surprised by his more affectionate behavior than usual. Normally this question would’ve led to a mischievous gleam in his eyes and you panting beneath him on the bed. But now Lucifer was in an oddly blissful state of mind without ulterior motives, just love.

You tightened your grip around him as he carried you into his room and you nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck as he smiled.

“I have the perfect thing,” he said as he sat you on his couch. He walked to the record player and pulled a vinyl from his stack that was green in color. “I got this a few weeks ago thinking you may enjoy it,” he admitted and let the record begin to play.

Softly the comforting sounds of Christmas music began to echo through his room as he smiled at you, very proud of himself.

You reached out for him, motioning him to come sit next to you. He didn’t need to be asked twice and sat beside you, wrapping an arm around you as you nuzzled into his side to listen to the relaxing music.

Of course, once the music and gentle moment were over Lucifer’s blissful shock had worn off and he gave you a knowing playful grin that tempted you into his sheets that night.

If this is what Christmas brought about, he hoped it could last longer next year, and that you’d both have many more to follow.

[the-cosmic-cauldron]

Astrology Observation: ✈️🛫🇺🇸🇻🇳🇬🇧😜🫦💋☀️🥇🧘‍♀️🌳Places You Should Visit, Your Flirt Style, How You’ll Find Success & Spirituality That Resonates Based on Your Rising Sign ✈️🛫🇺🇸🇻🇳🇬🇧😜🫦💋☀️🥇🧘‍♀️🌳

Disclaimer: As always, if it doesn’t apply, let it fly. This was fun to make and I enjoyed being random and combining different themes. Happy December, the last month of 2024 & cheers to the holidays approaching 🎉🎊🥳

Aries Rising:

Places You Should Visit: Finland, Sweden, Switzerland, New Zealand, Japan, Canada, Costa Rica, Chile.

Flirt Style: Direct and clear, flirty teasing, compliments, showing off, taking intiative.

How You’ll Find Success: When you understand that your life is not meant for settling, you are the embodiment of constant refinement. If you succumb to pressure and don’t move at your own pace, you risk failure. For you, life is about finding pleasure and enjoyment in every moment.

Spirituality: Advaita Vedanta, Mystical Christianity, Kabbalah, Taoism, Shamanism, Buddhism, New Age Spirituality Animism, Theosophy, Pagnanism and Wicca, Indigenous Spiritualities

Taurus Rising:

Places To Visit: Traveling across the United States, Germany, Japan, Singapore, South Korea, Switzerland, Canada, Australia, UAE

Flirt Style: Subtle signals, listening, patient flirts, intentional compliments, subtle affirmations, quality time.

How You’ll Find Success: You are such an intellectually sound person who has the ability to change your trajectory at the drop of a hat. If you do not continue to explore your mental complexity and versatility, you will feel stuck. Explore all of your options; you are meant to expand, not limit yourself. Fill your cup up with all your wonderful ideas.

Spirituality: Stoicism, Confucianism, Bhagavad Gita, Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, Paganism, Theosophy, New Age Spirituality, Indigenous Spirituality

Gemini Rising:

Places To Visit: Iceland, Finland, Netherlands, Sweden, Singapore, Switzerland, Canada, Uruguay, New Zealand.

Flirt Style: Open body language, sweet gestures, humorous, openly sharing, story telling, romantic gestures, casual and flexible.

How You’ll Find Success: Life for you is an intimate experience; the more intimacy you allow into your life, the more connected you will feel to all that is, which will spur much creativity to go after what you want. With support from the right sources, you’ll find that you are ready to kick-start your way to becoming a boss.

Spirituality: Buddhism, Taoism, Shintoism, Sufism, Hinduism, Sikhism, Christianity, Islam, Judaism.

Cancer Rising:

Places To Visit: Italy, France, Ireland, Switzerland, Japan, New Zealand, Greece, Indonesia, Turkey.

Flirt Style: Intense eye contact, calm demeanor, indirect comments, giving hints, subtle touches, deep conversations, giving full attention, engaging in shared interests.

How You’ll Find Success: When you embrace your playful side and allow life to be a mix of a hilarious comedy and a romantic film, you will find success. Instead of pigeonholing yourself to the mundane, express the most beautiful expressions of your mind and heart. When you’re supported by those who admire you and validate you, you will win! When your life is focused more on positivity and adventure, you will thrive!

Spirituality: Humanism, Unitarian Universalism, Rationalist Spirituality, Buddhism, Sufism, Modern Paganism.

Leo Rising:

Places To Visit: Major cities in the USA, Mexico, Spain, Switzerland, Iceland, UAE, Thailand, Japan, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Morocco

Flirt Style: Adventurous and spontaneous, playful teasing, asking questions, animated body language, chill, very open, smiles a lot and expressive eyes, playful touching.

How You’ll Find Success: You have to be very clear and intentional about your goals. But you must find routines that work for you—your routine is everything. This includes your health, your presentation, how much you know, and how well you execute tasks. Carefully crafting these aspects helps create a successful person. Neatness, learning to communicate, and being a self-learner—constantly looking for ways to improve—are key to creating success.

Spirituality: Hinduism, Confucianism, Judaism, Shinto, Catholic, Islam, Wicca and Paganism, Tibetan Buddhism, Yoruba Religion, Ingenious Spiritualities

Virgo Rising:

Places To Visit: France, Italy, Switzerland, Greece, Portugal, Japan, Thailand, Bali, Vietnam, traveling across USA, Mexico, Argentina, Brazil, Colombia, New Zealand, Australia

Flirt Style: Cautious, straightforward and intentional, talking about their goals and standards, dressing up, emotionally distant, controlled body language, calm confidence, subtle tease.

How You’ll Find Success: The key for you is to put yourself out there. Once you start hanging around different people and having a great time doing it, you’ll find what really suits you and meet important people in your journey. Falling in love can also help give you purpose and drive. When you find more balance in your personality and life and can feel less driven towards hyperfixation, you will succeed.

Spirituality: Prosperity Gospel, New Thought Movement, Law of Attraction, Hinduism, Sufism, Yoruba, Taoism, Paganism, Buddhism, Kabbalah, Shamanism, Jainism

Libra Rising:

Places To Visit: Traveling throughout the USA, Japan, Germany, Singapore, Sweden, Canada, South Korea, Netherlands, UK, India, Finland, Israel

Flirt Style: Subtle and chill, quirky sense of humor, thoughtful and shares, mystery, hard to get energy, conversational, witty banter, talking about ideas, friendly debates, unique way of complimenting or gifting

How You’ll Find Success: To find success, you need to gain a very acute and keen focus and dedicate yourself to your passion—complete dedication for years and years. This starts with a need to experience change: change where you live, change your appearance. But overall, overcome your shadow side, embrace your darker elements, heal, and get deeply introspective. Through healing and becoming extremely focused and dedicated, you will reach success. Don’t let the past define you.

Spirituality: Buddhism, Jainism, Shinto, Taoism, Ayurveda, Zoroastrianism, Sufism, Christian Mysticism, Sikhism, Hygee, Stoicism, Native Spiritualities

Scorpio Rising:

Places To Visit: Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Finland, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, travel around the USA, Netherlands, Japan, Italy.

Flirt Style: Expressive through art forms, soft spoken, kind gestures, gentle touch, genuine interactions, calm and serene, understanding and patient.

How You’ll Find Success : To succeed, you have to allow yourself to think outside of the box and give yourself freedom. You need something that allows you to spread your wings and enjoy. Traveling will help you find success, as will moving your body, doing different things, and being explorative. Don’t limit yourself and stay positive—shaping your thoughts positively will help a lot, as well as surrounding yourself with different people, as they will bless you with a lot of support to gain success. Lastly, being authentic is a great way to ensure success.

Spirituality: Taoism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Sufism, New Age Spirituality, Progressive Christianity, Animism, Paganism, Humanism, Zen Spirituality.

Sagittarius Rising:

Places To Visit: Traveling around the USA, Spain, Brazil, UAE, Japan, France, Australia, South Africa, Netherlands, Hungary, Portugal, Argentina.

Flirty Style: Initiates conversations, expressive body language, playful and lively, uses compliments and verbal affirmations, playful teasing, direct, confident, engaged, positive vibes, animated.

How You’ll Find Success: The focus here has to be on patience. The key is to be patient so that when you take action, it’s not about instant gratification but about the long gain. Quality over quantity. Look towards what’s going to be lasting. Be discerning about who you let into your life, have discipline with what you do, be ambitious and go full throttle. Get deep into what you want out of life and be loyal to your goals. Grow thick skin and be resilient to any challenges by believing in yourself the most. Watch what you do because you have great positive karma—if you wield it well.

Spirituality: Gnosticism, Taoism, Mysticism, Occultism, Shamanism, Buddhism, Neopaganism, Sufism.

Capricorn Rising:

Places To Visit: Switzerland, Japan, Iceland, Norway, Sweden, Denmark, New Zealand, Canada, Australia, Netherlands.

Flirt Style: Touchy feely, eye contact, enjoying quality time, bonding over shared activities, consistency, building a foundation, being present, slow and steady.

How You’ll Find Success: Invest in your grand ideas; you have just the right amount of ambition and pragmatism to execute them. Don’t ever feel like you’re the odd one out because your brain is your asset, and it will carry you far. So, allow your vivid mind to be seen. Don’t be afraid because you can make predictions about the future without even knowing how—your intuition will lead you far if you don’t suppress it. Friends are important for your success, as well as being involved in life. Be hands-on, get out there, speak your truth, and share your voice. Show up, socialize, and share your message. A lot of people will be invested in you—don’t back out. Go far and accept the odd and eccentric parts of yourself. Don’t be afraid of giving because you will be blessed tenfold in return.

Spirituality: Taoism, Sufism, Buddhism, Humanism, New Age Spirituality, Paganism, Existentialism.

Aquarius Rising:

Places To Visit: France, Italy, Spain, Greece, around the USA, Australia, Switzerland, Canada, UK, Portugal, Thailand, New Zealand, Japan

Flirt Style: Quick witted, sharing knowledge, switching topics, funny jokes, teasing, switching up moods, constantly desiring stimulation or intrigue, intellectual conversations.

How You’ll Find Success: Look at your emotions and pay attention to them—they have such an impact. Don’t just abandon your feelings or retreat into hermit mode when you experience them; explore the reasons behind the feelings, do art, dance, and allow yourself to think of and imagine the endless possibilities available to you! Embrace your pure heart and connect with people who are calm, artistic, and chill—they will help you pour more into your essence and guide you towards your imagination. In your imagination lies the key to your success. Focus on your dreams, your intuition, those moments you can’t explain, and connect to your ancestors. Truly dive deep into the other world and heal your soul. Connect and find a genuine, loving group of people who will continue to create art, come up with endless imaginative ideas, and nurture you without judgment. This is where you flourish.

Spirituality: Christianity, Buddhism, Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Taoism, Mormonism, Sikhism, African Religions.

Pisces Rising:

Places To Visit: Italy, France, UK, Greece, Turkey, Egypt, Japan, Czech Republic, Russia, India, Peru, Sweden, Mexico, Ireland

Flirt Style: Openly and thoughtfully express feelings, take their time to open up, slow and steady, kind and considerate, moody and can be expressive and then introspective, meaningful conversations.

How You’ll Find Success: Embrace your passions, as they fuel you to take action. Without engaging in things you truly love, you risk stagnation. Allow your passions to move you and get hands-on. Don’t feel forced into a box; allow your passions to change and to shift focus. The bottom line is to go after what ignites a fire in you and what brings peace to your inner child. Take action and don’t hesitate—you have the universe on your side when you make bold decisions. Learn to communicate clearly and don’t be afraid to work on your many ideas and fantasies alone! You shine brightly on your own, and people will be intrigued by you. Hang around people with dynamic, passionate, and assertive energy—they will help you significantly and allow you to take the reins yourself.

Spirituality: Humanism, Paganism, Unitarian Universalism, Sufism, Spiritual Humanism, Buddhism, Daoism, New Age Spirituality, New Thought Movement, Feminist Spirituality.

[onlyhereforthestories]

Turkey Farm Traditions (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Day 23! This is a tradition of mine and my dads. I have never not gone to get the turkey with him on Christmas eve, and yes I'm going tomorrow! Anyone got any traditions they love?

The festive season was well underway, and with it came the cold weather. Normally, you thrived in the chill, finding comfort in the crisp air and cozy nights. But this year, the winter cold only made everything seem a little sadder because of the situation you were in.

You had always gone home for Christmas. No matter what was happening in your life, you always made the trip back to England for the holidays, at the very least. But not this year. This year, you would be spending Christmas in Spain with your girlfriend of five years, Alexia.

It was the first year Alexia had expressed her dislike of spending the season apart, and she asked if you would be okay with having Christmas Day at your shared home in Spain. She had even offered to fly your parents and sister, along with her family, out to celebrate together. But you knew that wouldn't be practical.

You didn't want to spend Christmas apart from Alexia either, so you agreed. You also spoke with your mum about visiting them for the New Year instead, since there was a long gap in fixtures for your club team. They were understanding and happy to have you visit then, even suggesting that you could do a little "mini Christmas" together. That idea was more than comforting—it was a lifeline.

With Alexia's help, you managed to get all the gifts for your family sent off in time, so you knew they'd be arriving for the big day. Your joint gifts were all double wrapped for safety by Alexia, as she was always the more organized one when it came to packaging. Once that was done, you felt a little better about not being with them for the holiday.

What also helped ease the feeling was the fact that you would be hosting Alexia's mother and sister for the day. Something that terrified you, to be honest.

Both women adored you, as you did them, but there was something about Christmas that made you want everything to be perfect. The holiday had always been very special to you, and you wanted to honour that, especially in your own home.

The month of December passed in a blur. Before you knew it, you were waking up in the arms of your lover on Christmas Eve morning. The winter sun crept through a crack in the curtains, gently warming your face as you dozed peacefully, your head resting on Alexia’s neck.

“Buenos días, mi amor. We have to get moving if you want food and coffee before we need to leave,” Alexia murmured, her fingers running through your hair, her voice a soft, sleepy hum.

You almost didn’t hear her, still lost in the comfort of her touch. “Good morning, love,” you said, blinking sleepily. “What do you mean leave? Where are we going? I thought I had food to prep for tomorrow.”

You pulled yourself out of the comfortable cocoon of her neck and raised an eyebrow at the teasing smirk on her face.

“I was tasked with the turkey, sí?” she said, her smile widening as you nodded. You'd been so absorbed in your thoughts that you didn’t catch the next part.

“Well, I spoke to your dad because I know you told me you normally drive to the farm to collect the turkey with him on Christmas Eve,” Alexia continued, her voice soft but steady. “He told me he’s done it with you since you were a baby. So, I found a farm about 45 minutes away here that does turkeys. We need to go collect it before noon.”

You didn’t know what to say. A wave of emotion swept over you, and your eyes welled with tears, but you tried to blink them back, not wanting to ruin the moment. You buried your head in her neck again, overwhelmed by her thoughtfulness.

“Thank you… thank you so much,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Alexia simply held you closer, her hands soothing as you fought to regain control of your emotions. This was a Christmas tradition you had always shared with your dad, and the fact that Alexia remembered and made it happen for you here, in Spain, meant more than you could put into words.

When you finally pulled yourself together, you kissed her deeply, pouring all your gratitude into the kiss. You knew if you tried to speak, you would only choke up.

Alexia, smiling softly, kissed you back with equal tenderness, pulling you closer when she wasn’t quite ready to let go. You spent a few more precious moments tangled up in each other, sharing lazy kisses and soft touches, until Alexia playfully pulled you out of bed and towards the kitchen.

The trip to the farm was a joy. You sang Christmas carols along with the radio, the warmth of the car and the company of Alexia making the ride feel almost magical. The festive farm was everything you hoped it would be, warm and cozy, with the scent of hay and pine in the air. Alexia’s face lit up as she saw the decorations, and you couldn’t help but smile at how happy she seemed. She even hummed along to a few of the carols as you drove there.

On the way back, Alexia managed to distract you while she dialled your dad's number. It wasn't until you heard his comforting voice, coming through the car’s speaker system, that you noticed the music had stopped.

“Merry Christmas, kiddo,” your dad’s deep voice boomed through the speakers. “I’m guessing you’ve got the turkey by now. Alexia said she’d call when you were heading back. It’s my turn to drive this year, but I’m glad you have someone to share the tradition with. Love you.”

The words made your heart swell, and you spoke with him for a few minutes before promising to call again on Christmas Day. You spoke to both your dad and Alexia until you reached home, where you could hear the turkey cooking already.

When you arrived home, all you could do was launch yourself at Alexia. She had taken a tradition so deeply rooted in your childhood and made it her own, blending your past and present together in a way you hadn't imagined possible. You felt incredibly blessed.

You knew that the present you had for her was the perfect gift, one that you had spent a long time working out. Because she had given you the best present of all: a Christmas that would forever be remembered, not just for the old traditions you’d kept, but for the new ones she had helped you create.