#this is everything to me. beautiful boy and his beautiful dog
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HELLO!!!!!!!!!!
#this is everything to me. beautiful boy and his beautiful dog#the paisley tablecloth#the pot plants resting on the concrete . the sun shining into the backyard. the faded white fence with chipping paint#edit i was squinting at this with my glasses off from far away: THE RED BRICK PAVING#la kings#lak lb#quinton byfield#los angeles kings
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Everyone in Chainsaw Man is trans. Except for Angel Devil, who got a character/gender customization screen before he started life on earth as a fiend and is therefore cis in the least binary way possible.
#(this Angel Devil Ability TM is a result of fear/prejudice felt by religious ppl of/against queer ppl)#*âreligious pplâ in this case referring to followers of religions that incorporate angels into their doctrine/beliefs#Aki is repressed transfem because sheâs repressed everything. gender isnât even on her radar yet.#Denjiâs gender incorporates Pochita. Theyâre separate and a whole. Theyâre a boy and his dog a dog and his boy.#Power is A Fiend. she demands all pronouns and is better than all of them.#Angel is Angel. he exists as himself.#Iâm being silly again#(these are all my current personal fav interpretations but any and all trans hcs are so beautiful to me)#gender#trans#csm gender talk on the tl today hehe#I feel like most fiends/devils have pretty non (human) binary views of gender#babygirl Hellâs got genders you canât even imagine. theyâre shrimp colors to us.#csm#chainsaw man#my csm thoughts#meposting
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Why cant pets live forever
#I miss my dog so much#he was everything to me. my best friend#Ive been going between uncontrollably crying and feeling numb#whenever I felt sad he would be who I would go to. even just seeing his face would cheer me up#what am I supposed to do now#I miss him. I love him. I miss him. I love him.#my beautiful baby boy. ive called him my angel for years and now he really is my angel#I knew this day would come especially since he was almost 13!!#but its hitting me a lot harder than I expected
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okay thats interesting! in the SF try-outs during the song "legally blonde" she sings about how she cant be legally blonde, while in the official version AND THE DEMO she sings about letting her be legally blonde. which means that at some point they changed the lyrics around, and then changed them back! laurence o'keefe.... nell benjamin.... what occurs in your twisted minds
#covers mouth sorry so sorry guys#im a huge fan of beacon of positivity + good boy (elle puts a leash on emmett confirmed) + love and war (not in the demo but part of SF)#+ i liked some of the lyrics in the demo version of so much better (it called back to beacon of positivity!!! (i am insane)) such as:#I dream of your name next to my own but mine's looking fine up there alone#but i greatly prefer all the official songs we got. well. maybe good boy over ireland wouldve been fun (i think ireland is boring)#but itd play into the 'all men are dogs hurr hurr' joke that im glad they avoided. anyways. what was i saying.#right i havent listened to every version of everything yet (for example theres a SF version of chip on my shoulder i need to watch)#(and just the SF vers in general. shes hidden from me... why was emmett there before the remix... let me see their conversation)#but from what i have heard they made a lot of changes that were sorely needed. in take it like a man demo shes so much meaner??#it made me sad. it wasnt a duet + they wrung out the romantic tension (no subtext by calvin klein... sigh) + shes meaner!!!!#in the bway vers hes baffled but enjoys going along w it + she genuinely likes him even when hes wearing his regular clothes#but in the demo vers she keeps calling him stuff like ugly duckling and talking about how the geek is gone :( but she likes that geek..#the lines 'how much do you think i earn??' and 'kindly shut up :)' are funny but speak to a dynamic between the two that makes me sad...#follow me for more beautiful opinions on a fifteen year old musical#(heaves. do you know weird it is to see comments from 15yrs ago when this was actually showing. my brother is fifteen.)#god im so sorry i should be put down like a dog#lgb bootleggers are intense. i swear they got a bootleg every night or smth bc we got her shoe flying off + SF + kyle as understudy etc#go watch a so much better compilation sometime how did they take so many bootlegs?? how did you find them??#and its awesome cause these were filmed on 2007/2008 tech which means they have 15 pixels maximum#SORRRRYYYYYYYYYY
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paint me in lipstick stains đ sjy.
in which bf!jake is a simp and LOVES being marked with lipstick | tiktok series
jake x reader, fluff fluff fluff, warnings: again, SUPER fluffy, jake being whipped, lots of kissing, wc: 560
anybody could tell that jake was absolutely smitten. no matter what you did, your boyfriend would look at you with all the love and adoration in his body. any mundane task done by you would be just as graceful. and to be honest, you loved the attention.
even now, your boyfriend is giving you his undivided attention. there you sat at your vanity, looking like the most beautiful person to grace the planet, yet you were just putting on a new lipstick. you giggled as you caught a glimpse of jake staring, his chin resting on his palm and his feet swinging in the air behind him.
âyou look like a lovesick puppy, jakey.â you laughed.
âyou know i canât help it, y/n,â he sighed. âyou just look so good.â
âyou always say that when iâm not doing anything special,â you rolled your eyes playfully. âbesides, whatâs so interesting about me putting on makeup?â
your boyfriend took the opportunity to come closer, his arms wrapping around you and his chin resting on top of your head. jake stared through the mirror; he couldnât get over you.
âeverything you do is perfect for me,â he whispered dearly. âthat shade looks amazing on you, by the way.â
âoh yeah?â you smiled at him. you looked between your own reflection in the mirror and back at your boyfriend. âyou think itâll look good on you too?â
âwhat do you mean?â he raised his eyebrows at your inquiry. fully facing him, your hands reach up to his cheeks, caressing them before planting a sweet kiss on his lips. you knew youâd at least leave a mark, and you could tell when jakeâs face went as red as the shade the two of you shared.
âlooks good on you too, jakey.â you jumped up from your seat into the manâs arms to attack him. smothering your boyfriend with kisses, you left marks all over his face, neck, collarbones, anywhere your lips could reach exposed skin.
âso-â kiss. âgood-â kiss. âyou deserve-â kiss. âmore kisses,â you kissed him until his face was littered with your marks.
you adored the site in front of you. jake marked up by you, him holding your gaze, looking at you as if you had hung the stars in the sky. you were equally smitten with him, giving him one last chaste kiss on his plump lips.
âyou know, i think everyone should see how good this lipstick looks on you,â you said, grabbing your phone off the nightstand after leaping from jakeâs hold. âjust follow my lead, mkay?â
you applied the lipstick just a bit more before plopping down next to jake on the bed. once you were comfortable, you pressed record, applied more of the lipstick and smudged it at the end. jake grabbed your chin gently, wiping off the smudged makeup. you panned the camera over to him, who looked at you with his puppy-dog eyes. your couldnât resist his gaze, giving him another kiss before ending the video.
you giggled when you watched the video back, jake looking as pathetically in love with you as ever.
"you know, if i post this and the boys see it, you're never gonna live it down, right?" you teased.
"well, they already know i'm down bad for you," he countered. "and they'll just see how much i really love you."
© ikissjude 2024
#i love down bad jake#pathetically in love jake#jake in general#enhypen oneshots#enhypen scenarios#enhypen imagines#enhypen#enhypen ff#enhypen x reader#enhypen fluff#enhypen jake#enha#enha x reader#jake scenarios#jake fluff#jake oneshots#jake imagines#jake sim#sim jaeyun#sim jake#jake x reader#enhypen jake x reader#enhađ#tiktok on the clock! đ
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PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE- L. HOWLETT
Pairing: Possesive! Boyfriend! Logan x Fem! Reader (grumpy x sunshine)
Word Count: 2.1k
Summary: Logan is always possesive of you, making sure the whole world knows you're his. He especially makes it known when any man tries to flirt with whats his.
Warnings: SMUT, possesivness, size kink, pet names, daddy kink, mocking? kink, dom Logan, mirror sex, swearing, implied violence/ death
"heartbreak is one thing, my egos another- i beg you don't embarass me motherfucker.."- please x3, sabrina carpenter
âPlease Logan. Please, please, please just behave tonight.â you begged, pouting your lip as you gazed up at him with puppy dog eyes. It wasnât often you had to beg Logan for anything.
He always gave you everything you wanted, no questions asked.
New purse? Chanell bag was waiting for you on the table when you arrived home. New shoes? He helped you pick them out, making you walk over to him seductively before perching you on his lap.
Anything you wanted, you got. Except for Logan behaving himself.
The older man was not known for being⊠caring.
To anyone but you, of course.
Where the sunshine lingered over your head like a halo, his stormcloud trailed behind at an arm's distance.
He was jealous⊠no, possessive. If a man stared at you for a second too long, he was no longer a man, but a boy sprawled on the ground with blood gushing out of his nose, ears and eyes. A violent, cold shouldered man with a harsh military past, but to you he would give the world on a silver platter if he could.
Which is exactly why he was dressing up for an event he very much did not want to go to- for your sake.
You stood on your tiptoes to adjust his tie, smoothing out his crisp, white undershirt that highlighted his strong arms. You wanted to kiss them.
âThat's all Iâm askin baby.â you pouted again, placing a gentle kiss to his neck as he bent down to your level.
âNow would I ever embarrass my girl?â he asked teasingly, brushing a warm, calloused thumb across your cheek, careful not to mess up the makeup you had so delicatly applied sitting on the bathroom vanity for hours.
âHmm. Well sometimes someone gets a lil possessive..â you trailed on, his eyebrow cocking in amusement.
âAmI not allowed to protect my princess? There's so many terrible men out there you know baby.. That just wanna take my girl away from me.â he mocked your pout, guiding you around to face the standing mirror adorned with little lights around it, to âhighlight your beautyâ he had told you.
They glowed softly, pulsing against your skin as he leaned down, placing a kiss on your neck- the same place you had to him- only his tugged at your skin, just a little longer.
âAnd we don't want that now do we?â
Your panties damped at his condescending tone. God, why did his posessiveness turn you on so fucking much? You were adding fuel to the fire.
âNo, but it's just a gala Lo. Iâm sure itâll be okay.â
âIâm always protecting my girl.â he snarled, hands gripping your hips, giving them a squeeze over your velvet red dress, draping across your body like a Greek goddess. It was one of Logans favourites. Of course, he said that about everything you did, and did not wear.
You thought it was fitting for the event, supposedly just a âmingle and drinkâ was what Charles had said. A good way to connect with other mutants from other parts of the world. It was important to him, so you wanted to make sure it ran as smoothly as possible.
âYou look so fucking beautiful. Fuck.â he murmured, running his hands up and down your body, tickling your skin. âYou make me think such dirty, dirty thoughts princess.â
âOops.â you giggled, feeling a bulge against your backside, rubbing against the fabric. You hated to leave him high and dry, but Charles would kill you if you were late.
It would cause Logan to be on edge even more so then he was, but if he had it his way, youâd constantly stay in his bed.
âNow we gotta go. Oh- and, no guns, no claws.â you scolded, shimming out of his grasp to snatch up your handbag, stuffing the contents that had spilled out back inside messley.
âHgmp.â he grumbled, reaching for your outstretched hand, trailing after you to walk into his own personal internal hell. If it meant he could support you, and even just see you- he would do it.
Not without a slight fuss though, to make you pity him.
âDonât think about it Lo. Charles wants this to go perfectly⊠and Iâm just-â
âHey. hey, Iâm just teasing you baby. I promise, Iâll be on my best behaviour, I wanna be there for you. But if any man tries itâŠâ He stopped you, turning you back against the doorframe, his palm in your cheek, stroking it lovingly.
You met his eyes, soaking in their gentle gaze he only revealed to you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. âYou just want an excuse to show off your hot date.â you teased, smiling softly.
He laughed, squeezing you close to his chest. You breathed in his cologne, smelling strongly of whisky and pine needles. It made you drunk, intoxicating you like white wine.
âYou caught me there.âÂ
---------------------------------------------
âFashionably lateâ is what Logan called it, when you strolled into the ballroom of the old, castle-like manor, nearly twenty minutes past. You had urged him to pick up the pace, but he had distracted you with his lips whenever you tried to protest.
He had listened to you however, when you begged him not to mess up your makeup, only tugging on your lip with teeth instead of smearing it with his thumb.
Smiling meekly at Charles with your hair slightly out of place, you wiggled your way through the crowd, familiar and unfamiliar faces poking out at you.
You waved to Storm, smiling as she flirted with a mutant from out of town. Soaking in her shimmering silver dress, you gave her a big thumbs up, mouthing âyou look so good!â, earning a stifled giggle from her as the man continued his conversation.
Logan watched you like a hawk from the side of the room, acting as a bodyguard. He seemed to sneer at anyone who you didnât know get too close to you, even if they were just passing by.
He had showed up for you, so you let him sulk. It was the least you could do. You paid him no mind, occasionally looking over to see him nursing a whisky on the rocks in a fancy glass, adjusting his jacket as Rouge talked to him.
Giving him a little soft wave, you turned, bumping right into an unfamiliar face.
âOh, my apologies- I shouldâve watched where I was going.â you reassured, giving a curt nod and smile. You took a step, Charles popping into view- only an arms reach away.
âHey, no worries. I hope I didnât mess up your beautiful dress.â the stranger smiled, eyeing you up. It made you shiver in discomfort. âOh thank you.â You tried to be as polite as you could be- hoping the conversation would end as quickly as it started.
âWhatâs your name?â he asked. âOh- uh⊠Y/N.â
âNice to meet you, Iâm-â
âShe doesn't care who you are.â a low voice growled, Logan slipping in front of you, shielding you from the stranger.
You could see the back muscles ripple through his tight jacket, threatening to tear in two. He must have sniffed out your immediate discomfort. You were grateful for it, as the hungry stares the man gave you made you uneasy.
âWoah bud. Chill out, Iâm just saying hello.â
âYouâre making my girl uncomfortable. And anyone who makes my girl-â he emphasised those two words. â-uncomfortable, gets fucked up.â
You felt Charles stare at the back of your head, and you frantically tried to pull him back before he threw a punch and made a scene. âLo- let's go, lets just let it go.â
He snarled at the man, making him tremble slightly, trying to hide his discomfort the same way you had just done for him.
âI would listen to your girl.â he mocked.
âYou shut the fuck up.â you snapped, stepping out from behind your guard dog of a boyfriend- finger right in his face. âI shouldn't even give you the time of day, you perv. I know what you're thinking about- and I would never be with you. Never in a million years.â you spat, turning sharply on your heel, not looking to see if anyone followed.
You felt heads turn as you strutted out of the ballroom, Charles being one of them.
He was a pervert. Iâm getting some air. You telepathically told Charles, stomping towards an empty office down the hall- letting the door slam behind you. I understand, and Iâll take care of him, if Logan doesn't before me. He murmured, voice slipping from your mind as quick as it came.
You leaned against the mahogany desk, taking a deep breath. Trying to compose yourself, you unzipped your dress just a tad, to give yourself more room to take deeper breaths.
A moment later, you heard loud footsteps stomp down the hall, Logan appearing from behind the closed door he opened. His eyes glinted with anger- a hunger and possessiveness that had you squeezing your thighs together.
The lock clicked, and within two strides he towered in front of you. âLo-â
He kissed you so hard you swore you tasted coppery blood coat your bottom lip, and you moaned into his mouth. Melting into his touch, his hands held your neck- not letting you go anywhere, before hiking you up in his arms.
Office supplies were pushed to the side clattering to the ground as you were perched at the edge of the desk, legs wrapping around Logan tightly.
âYoure so fucking hot when you get like that. So worked up, letting that lil cat out to scratch.â
He growled in your mouth, hand slipping down to grab your ass, smacking it hard. âMghm f-fuck Logan, he just made me so angry⊠and you protected me like always..â
âThat man is not gonna make it tomorrow when Iâm done with him.â he promised, and you felt heat rise in your cheeks at his claims.
âYouâre mine. Mine, and fuck Iâm gonna make sure you leave this room with everyone knowing that princess.â
âLo- need yâso bad..â you whined, hand slipping down his chest to tug at the button of his dress pants. His bulge taunted you, and a hiss escaped from his lips as you grazed it through the fabric.
âYa? You need me baby? Come and take me then, my big, strong girl.â he murmured, letting you pull him out of his confinements, the sheer size making your mouth water.
You never got tired of him, never got over how big he was. You struggled to tug your dress fully off, and he chuckled at the sight of you.
âSo desperate hm? Need help?â
âN-no.â you mumbled, finally finding a way to shimmy it down. You wasted no time with the extras- simply pulling your thong to the side, as you guided him near your entrance.
âYour hands are so tiny on my cock baby. All of you is just so tiny, you need to be protected, hm?â
You nodded mindlessly, sighing in relief as he slid his cock up and down through your soaked folds, before sliding in and hitting home. Your mouth popped open with an O- as he never fully slid fully in without guiding it in slowly first.
He was needy tonight. You both were.
âOh fuck baby. Fuck.â
You squeezed your legs around his waist, pulling him in tighter, trying your best to fuck yourself on him. It wasn't as good as what he did to you. You needed him.
âYou poor lil thing. You need some help, you need daddy to fuck ya princess?â
You nodded, moaning as his hand found its way around your neck, squeezing softly as he pulled out, then back home- hips snapping at a rough pace that had you seeing stars.
You couldn't help but let the noises escape you- trying so hard to stay quiet but they slipped out, mixing with the slap of skin.
âYeah let it all out baby. Let them all hear how good I fuck you. How you're mine, and no one else's.â
You looked into his eyes widely, as they started to fog over with pure pleasure. He hugged your gummy walls like a glove, his grunts and praises spurring you on. You couldn't help but look down, watching the way his cock slid deep inside you, the outline poking through your stomach.
âLo- youâre so big.â
âAnd you're so tight, baby. You like lookin at how well you take me? Look over there.â he nodded his head over to the right, where a full length mirror stood.
You turned your head, watching as he rammed into you, pushing your legs up across his big, beefy shoulders, bending you to his will. His eyes met yours in the reflection, a cruel smirk forming on his lips as you gasped and whimmered his name as he fucked you.
âSuch a pretty princess.â he whispered, hoping everyone could hear you.
Knowing those noises you made were because him- for him, and only him.
#hugh jackman smut#hugh jackman#hugh jackman fanfic#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett smut#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlet smut#logan howlett#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool 3#wolverine fanfiction#wolverine smut#wolverine#wolverine x reader#wolverpool#logan wolverine#james logan howlett#james howlett#wolverine origins#logan x reader#wade wilson
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Honey-Sweet
Description: You're far too sweet for him. He's determined not to ruin you, despite the fact that he seems to ruin everything, and everything about you just seems to make his fantasies worse. But one night can change everything, apparently, when Miguel finally sees how completely not sweet you can be.
Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, hoooh boy a lotta smut okay, oral (m and f recieving), unprotected piv (pls oh pls wrap it up irl fuck them kids), riding, doggy, missionary, some fluff bc i'm not completely deranged, light degradation (w/c: 2.1K)
A/N: oh lord the Miguel brainrot is REAL folks okay this is fucking crazy. I WANT THIS MAN TO **** ** **** * ****** ******* okay he has me fuckin frothing at the DAMN MOUTH actin like a DAMN DOG okay so please enjoy a bit of a miguel smutfest
Youâre too fucking sweet for him. Thatâs what he tells himself. Miguel OâHara doesnât do sweet.
Youâre fucking sweet with the way you bring cookies in for the other Spiders that accompany you on missions. Youâre sweet in how you brought in a ridiculous hand-made baby blanket for Mayday when Peter first brought her in, emblazoned with his Spider-Man logo to wrap her up tight in. Youâd kissed the baby on the head, whispering tiny sweet nothings into her bright red hair, and Miguel had had to hide the emergence of his fangs at the sight of it.
Youâre too sweet, too kind for him. You organize little movie nights at the office, you make him stay a little longer on missions so you can see the tourist spots from different universes. And the way you look at him, all wide-eyed and bright and smiling⊠it does things to him.
It makes him want to bring you flowers, kiss you on the cheek. It makes him want to plan fucking candle-lit dinners and bake cupcakes with you. All sweet, too sweet.
But, because he apparently canât stop himself, you also want to make him do decidedly not sweet things. Like grab at your tits through your suit, pinching your nipples until your knees go weak and you whimper his name in your gorgeous little voice. Like force you down on your knees, fucking his cock into your hot mouth while tears leak down your cheeks. Like tying you up with his webs, eating your pretty cunt out while you struggle against them, whining that âitâs too much, too much Miguel.â Like fucking you deep, so fucking deep on his cock, making you squeeze around him while you scream for him, beg for him to fill you up with cum. He thinks about watching it leak out of your achy pussy, dripping down your thighs.
But youâre so goddamn sweet, too gorgeous and lovely, and he canât ruin you, he canât.Â
So when you finally wear him down, finally get him to go to coffee with you, he tries to be just as sweet as you. You hold his fucking hand, you kiss him on the cheek. You smile into his mouth as his lips meet yours in front of your apartment door. Miguel swears that his heart will pop with how much it swells when youâre near him.
He brings you flowers, walks you to your door, brings you lunch while youâre filing post-mission paperwork. And God, itâs beautiful. Itâs fantastic and bright and so wonderfully domestic that Miguel wonders if heâs died, gone to some heaven he doesnât deserve. Heâs determined to revel in the domesticity of this⊠thing heâs created with you, his disgusting fantasies be damned.
He doesnât like to think about how he has to fuck his hand after he drops you off at your house, his lips still burning with the touch of your soft, soft kiss. He thinks about how your lips would look stretched around his dick.
Heâs content. Heâs happy. For the first time in so fucking long, heâs happy. And heâll happily tug on his dick by himself for the rest of damn time if it means that he gets to revel in your soft, pretty, wonderful sweetness for a little bit longer. He will not ruin you.
But.
As he kisses you softly in front of your apartment, the both of you still suited up from your latest mission, you tug him closer. You pull him down into your hungry mouth, and you lick into him like youâre starving for it. He canât help how he growls at the feeling of it, his big hands coming to clutch at your hips. God, youâre pretty, fucking addicting with the way your tongue tangles with his and how you whimper when his hands cup your ass, tugging you up just that extra inch.
âTake me to bed, Miguel,â you gasp between feverish kisses, and fuck, heâs gone.
He hauls you into his arms, and his knees almost go weak at the way you wrap your thighs tightly around his middle, the way you lick into his mouth all over again.
And Miguel has spent so much time in his head, thinking, no, knowing that youâre sweeter than goddamn pie. Itâs in every fucking breath you take, every moment he spends with you.Â
But that night, as he lays you onto the bed, gently, gently like you deserve, he learns that youâre not as sweet as he thinks you are.
Not at all.
Not with the way you roll him over with your strength, begging for him to disengage his suit, looking at him like you want to devour him as it dissolves around him, leaving him bare to your gaze. You graze a reverent hand up his chest as he heaves under you, whispering, âGod, canât believe Iâve waited this long to have you like this. Youâre so pretty, Miguel.âÂ
Pretty. Pretty? He canât be the pretty one, no, not when youâre unzipping your own suit, and he can see everything. Every inch of supple, soft skin. Your nipples, hard and peaked and begging for his touch. Your pretty, pretty pussy; he can see how youâre practically dripping, the wetness between your legs glistening in the soft lamplight.
And youâre not sweet, not sweet at all, when you nip and suck little marks down his chest and abs, grinning up at him like a damn siren when he gasps at your touch. Fuck, youâre the opposite of everything he thought when you take his cock into your mouth, bobbing deeper, deeper until you just canât anymore, jacking the rest of his cock while you kiss and lick and suck at him.
You grab his hand with your free one, and pull it into your hair. You pull up from his cock, and Christ, thereâs a line of your spit that connects you to his throbbing tip, and Miguel thinks that he might die.Â
âFuck my face, baby?â you rasp, and yes, thatâs it, Miguel is going to fucking die here. But he canât refuse you, with those gorgeous eyes gazing up at him, the tip of his cock on your tongue.Â
Itâs not sweet, not at all, when he forces your head down on his cock, pressing himself deep into your pretty little mouth. And you moan like you love it, just taking it as he thrusts roughly into your mouth. Your spit runs down his shaft, your little whimpers and the way you choke when the tip jams into the back of your throat all echoing in his ears.Â
He canât hear himself, but God, you can. You relish the way he growls every time he pushes you down deep, telling you that, âYouâre such a good girl, hermosa. Mierda, mi nena perfecta.â Your pussy throbs.
He isnât soft, isnât gentle like he told himself to be when he pulls you off his cock. You gasp for air, and Miguel groans as he pulls you up by your hair, dragging your spit-slick lips to his mouth. He can taste himself on your lips, all sticky and hot and puffy.Â
You whine against his mouth, murmuring little pleas of âfuck me, fuck me, fuck me,â into him, and his cock twitches, red and aching desperately for your touch.Â
âHave to make sure youâre ready,â he mumbles, even though he aches, even though his claws threaten to show.Â
âNononono,â you whine, and then you sit back, hovering over his cock, fucking monstrous compared to the tiny opening of your dripping pussy, and press down.
Fuck, itâs like heaven inside you, all perfect and wet and hot, and you whine, muttering that, âItâs so fucking big, God, stretches me so perfect, so fucking perfect, so much bigger than I could have dreamed-â
âNena,â he interrupts you with a hoarse groan of his own, âgotta stop, âs gonna, gonna hurt you, oh fuck-âÂ
And you grin at him again, filthy and raunchy and not sweet at all, as you say âI fucking want it to hurt, Miguel. Wanna feel you in the morning, wanna feel you all the time.â And you press yourself the rest of the way down his thick cock, gasping for air, your hips twitching like they canât decide whether to run away from the sensation or seek it.Â
âFuck, wanna feel you all the time,â you murmur and Miguel canât decide whether youâre actually talking to him or not. âWant you to fuck me so hard I canât breathe, fill me up so fucking perfect, God, oh my God, âm so fucking full,â you roll your hips forward in desperate little circles, a weak attempt at getting him deeper. An endless stream of âfuck me, fuck me, please please please,â starts to leave your lips again, and you sound so desperate, so needy, that Miguel canât help but roll you over, pinning you underneath him, and fucking his cock so hard and so deep into you that you dig your fingers into his back and sob.
He does what you ask that night. He fucks you and fucks you and fucks you, until tears leak from your eyes and your bed is soaked with a mixture of yours and his cum. And God, you scream for him, begging him for more, deeper, harder.
The slick sounds of your bodies meeting over and over must be heard all over the building, but Miguel canât bring himself to care, not when heâs able to fuck you like this, disgusting and filthy.
How could a sweet, lovely, soft thing like you love this so much?
From that night on, it seems that all bets are off. From that night on, it seems that you make it a mission to show him exactly how not sweet you are.
Fuck, thereâs no sweetness to you when you hump your hips into his face the next morning, practically smothering him in your pussy as you squeal and tangle your fingers in his hair. He digs his fingers so hard into your thighs that heâs sure theyâll bruise, and licks up your juices. Your pussy is honey-sweet on his tongue.
Youâre not soft when you ride him into the mattress, throwing yourself down onto his cock and moaning as you stretch yourself out. You drag your nails down his chest as you bounce desperately in his lap, and Miguel kind of hopes you draw blood.
There isnât an ounce of innocence when you sink down on your knees under his desk when heâs in a goddamn meeting, pulling his cock out and sucking at him until his claws shoot out and leave splintering holes in his desk. He has to hide his fangs from the video camera when you choke.Â
When he finally, finally cuts the meeting short, feeding the other Spider-Men some bullshit excuse about a new anomaly, he presses your head to the base of his cock and shoots his cum down your throat. He means it as a punishment, but when he pulls you off his cock, and sees you with your eyes all glassy and smiling lazily, he canât help but bend you over the desk and finger fuck you until you cry and scream and beg for him to fuck you with his cock.
You are so far from sweet when he fucks you on the floor after a mission, tensions run too taut and adrenaline racing through your veins. You throw your ass back onto him with every thrust into your sloppy cunt, moaning as he growls, âSuch a fucking slut, canât get enough of this cock, huh? My sweet, sweet girl, what would the rest of the Spiders say if they knew what a fucking whore you are for me?âÂ
And when you choke on your spit around your screams, he leans down to whisper that, âI know, cariño, I know. I'm gonna take care of you,â before he shoves your face down into the carpet and mounts you, shoving his fat cock down into you again and again and again.
Miguel is positive that heâs died and gone to heaven.
Itâs not to say that youâre not the same, sweet girl who brings cookies to the office and holds his hand. No, youâre the same, perfect, sweet girl, only that you let him thank you for the cookies by eating you out on the kitchen floor. You hold his hand while you jerk his cock and swallow his moans with your kiss.
Youâre just the right kind of sweet for him.
#yeah so#i wrote this in a TRANCE#want this man to throw me around like a ragdoll#can you tell that im ovulating#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 x you#across the spiderverse fic#miguel ohara x you#miguel ohara x reader
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Heyyy. Ok really cheesy but Iâd like to request a Logan x reader friends to lovers where itâs like an accidental confession. Maybe someone makes fun of the reader and Logan without thinking about it just starts yelling and defending why the reader is great and everything he loves about her? Ik itâs a little OOC but maybe he gets so mad (as Wolverine does) that he gets all mushy without realizing lol. Thanks â€ïžâ€ïž
lotus
while on library duty, Logan overhears two girls talking shit about you... and corrects it quickly.
CW: sorry i went in a little different direction, suggestive, profanity, takes place during the timeline of the og X-Men, these girls are bitches, etc.
"I just don't get what's the big deal about her," Maya scoffed, resting her cheek in her palm as she thoughtlessly flipped through her biology textbook.
Talia nodded, glancing up from her notes with an excitement that screamed nothing to do.
"No, seriously," she agreed. "Like we get it... you can grow shit. Big deal."
That piqued Logan's interest.
With Jean and Scott off on a date, the professor away, and you and Ororo teaching a joint class, he was slapped with library dutyâwatching the kids during their scheduled study period.
Now, originally, he planned on simply plopping himself down in a corner and puffing his cigar, hoping to fall asleep and just ride out his sentence.
And he was halfway there, too.
But just as he was about to catch some Zs, his hearing picked up on a conversation between two older girls who seemed to be trash talking his girlfriend.
"Word," Maya turned the next page, a grimace settling on her face when she noticed the image of a flower.
One you were very vocal about liking.
"She won't shut up about these stupid lotus flowers either... Hey! Did you guys know that the lotus is considered sacred in many Eastern cultures? And it often symbolizes purity, beauty, and rebirth!"
Talia let out an obnoxious snicker, the impression not nearly as funny as what she was making it to be.
But maybe she just hated you that much...
"You sound just like her," she commended, very much amused. "Only she's always smiling. Like I've never seen her frown before... it's almost creepy."
"Seriously creepy. But Peter can't get enough of it... you know he has a crush on her, right?"
"Seriously?!"
Logan let out a quiet chuckle, tickled by the news.
He'd caught the boy staring at you during a few Danger Room sessions, but didn't think much of it, assuming he'd just caught him while he happened to be looking in your direction.
Oh, how wrong he was...
He couldn't wait to tell you later tonight.
"Mhmm. Half the boys at school nearly fall over themselves to make sure they're not late to her class... It's almost funny."
"Funny, my ass. Why'd it have to be Peter?" Talia huffed, tossing her pencil at the textbook in frustration. "She's not even that pretty. I've had dogs that look better than her."
Maya attempted to muffle a snicker, but Logan heard it loud and clear, his brows furrowing at the horrible comment.
"I'm serious. She puts up this whole nice and innocent act, but I bet she's a raging bitch behind closed doors."
That was it.
All the stuff before was just normal, teenage jealousy; something he'dâalbeit reluctantlyâlet slide.
But calling you out of your name?
Insulting your character?
Comparing you to a dog?
A line had to be drawn.
"Tali, you can't say that," Maya chuckled, glancing around to make sure no one was listening.
"Like I care," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I'd tell it to her face if I ever got the chance. Just walk right up to her and sayâ"
"Say what?"
The girls nearly jumped out their skin, whipping around, only to be met by Logan's arched brow, the man leaning up against a bookshelf as he puffed on his cigar.
They were at a loss for words, unable to say anything under his imposing presence.
"Don't get shy now," he goaded, crossing his arms over his chest. "Go on. Tell me what you're gonna say to Dr. (l/n)."
The two were practically frozen, frantically glancing at each other for assistance, Logan's eyes flicking between the two expectantly.
"Nothing?" he hummed. "That's funny... 'cause you both seemed to have plenty of shit to say earlier."
Both their faces fell almost instantly, the color practically draining from Talia.
"You heard that?" Maya squeaked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Every word," Logan nodded. "And what I managed to gather from it was that you both just can't stand her because she's kind, passionate, pretty, and beloved."
He listed each trait off on his fingers, glancing at the two for confirmation.
"How's that? Am I in the ballpark?"
They remained silent, hanging their heads in embarrassment as Logan's confrontation had garnered the attention of the whole library.
"Well, then, how's this..." he pulled the cigar out his mouth. "I'll let you both off this time with a warning... but if I catch either of you trash talkin' anybody again, teacher or student, you're grounded."
"'Til when?" Talia asked, nervously.
"'Til I tell you you're not."
The end of day bell punctuated his statement, a flourish of shutting books and closing pencil cases muffling the girls' sighs of relief.
"Now get outta here."
He had never seen two students pack up so fast.
They were gone in T-minus ten, and once the library was cleared out, Logan allowed himself to sit down, letting out his own sigh.
He could've tore into them infinitely worseâand he honestly wanted to for that dog commentâbut he figured that was the right, and legal, amount for a teacher.
But even still...
'I dunno how a girl who can only float two inches off the ground is talkin' about (n/n) havin' a shitty power...'
#james howlett#james howlett x reader#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#mcu#mcu x reader#wolverine x reader#x men#x men x reader#wolverine
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Simon "Ghost" Riley that likes to be pampered, to be taken care of and let me tell you, he's just so not used to it. He's never had anyone to really treat him anything close to good.
In all honesty, he genuinely thought it was fine, being alone. He's a solitary creature, as life taught him to be, and deep down he convinced himself it was best. It didn't matter if there was a small, minuscule, pained tug at his heart every time he thought about it.
What he didn't expect was to be whipped immediately, one glance into your eyes and he was a goner. It went against his reasoning, this instinct of his to have you, battling everything he's been trying to avoid at all costs. But that one glance, that small smile you gave him, and he just knew. And months of tedious yet slow opening up and trying not only for you, but for himself, Simon was yours somehow. Baffling as it was, he now had someone to go home to. A sweet angel that in no time he plans to up and move into that bare house he has and take care of. Only thing is, the man did not expect to be taken care of himself, as if he forgot that was an option.
The first few times you two dated, officially, as he had to clarify this wasn't what kids these days mean by "hanging out" or "talking to" or whatever the fuck Johnny and Kyle were babbling to him about their dating lives (it's dating or not, Simon likes things clear), the man was surprised by how sweet yet determined you were. "Can I hold your hand?" You asked him a little flustered, and this big boy almost stuttered. He found himself nodding while gulping before taking your hand in his, internally beating himself up for acting like such a... boy? Having a silly crush on a lovely sweetheart that made him nervous by just exiting around him.
God, it felt fantastic when he finally got to kiss you. Simon thought it was gonna be just a kiss, big fucking deal (he was trying to cope, his hands were sweaty but whatever, big deal), but the way you sighed and melted into him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck made him shudder. It ignited something in him and his heart tugged again, this time not painful but hopeful.
It was the way you touched his scarred face that really astonished him, especially the first night you spent in his house. Whatever movie you babbled about the last date, vampires or whatever, was now playing on his flat screen on the new profile he created for you on whatever streaming service Simon just bought just to watch it. Another tiny bit of you in his life, it seemed. Movie was fucking awful, truly, fucking dumb teenagers and vampires, but whatever, your boyfriend (bloody fucking hell it felt fantastic and scary to think that he's now yours officially) was determined to watch it even if he snorted and made fun of it every three seconds, yet having you giggle by his side made his cold heart warm up as it beat a thousand times per second. Once again, he found himself about to mock something jokingly when he turned to you, finding your beautiful eyes already on him, expression warm and relaxed.
"Come here." At that moment, Simon Riley realized he'd follow anything you'd order him, as his body moved without any thoughts, just closer to you. Like a stray dog that's learning what a home is, something he's never really had, and when your lips touched his cheek while caressing the other, the world slowed down.
Having you move closer to him, placing a leg over his, smiling at him sweetly while gently kissing the scar near his lower lip, all he could do was stare dumbly as his face felt on fire. Little did he know that his pale cheeks reddened so adorably that you started to giggle. God, he fucking loved that sound.
"Lay on me, c'mon." You ordered gently again, grabbing his calloused hands to tug him onto you as you laid down on your back. Simon knew he looked like an idiot in awe, very much aware he's always had a staring problem. But as he crawled gently over you, expecting you to push him off after abruptly changing your mind, all he could do was to look down into your cleavage and stare like a muppet. " 'S aight?" Being all he asked before hearing a nice hum, approval for him to lay on you.
That day, Simon learned what heaven is. Your fingers into his hair, slowly, gently playing with his dirty blond locks, his face in your soft tits, your voice oh-so clear as he pressed his ear into your torso, the slow rumble almost putting him to sleep while his eyes were focused on the silly movie. His arms were wrapped around you while he just laid down between your legs. His dumb jokes still delivered as he muffled them out lazily, getting you to laugh and make him smirk as you(r tits) jiggled under him, and his reward, because you're a fucking angel, of course, was a sweet kiss on his temple every single time. The man could be turning into a clown by the end of the night as long as you kissed him so tenderly.
You spoiled him too. How dare you, really? Bringing him sweets, asking him what he wants to eat, adjusting your schedule to fit his (man's off duty, he can camp outside your house and come in whenever you want him to, if you'd be willing, like a good obedient dog), just making him feel wanted. It was odd. And new. And addicting.
You cared. You cared for him. And in his wonky yet honest way, he cared too. Always making sure that you know he's somehow thinking of you. He wanted to try. He wanted to make sure you'll stick around. The military has taught this man a lot of things, and apart from his head-strong conviction that he indeed can do anything if he puts his mind to it, another was how to not fuck up something good, all through the hundreds of stories from many other soldiers about failed relationships. He knows all the perspectives, all the failures, all the erros and all the aftermaths, so he learned to listen and not blame, to pay attention, to be there even if he was half a world away. Simon is determined to keep you around, coming back to you battered, wounded, traumatized, exhausted, and is greeted with his angel, all ready to pick him up, wrap him in a warm blanket and fuss over his ass. He'd roll his eyes at you, but his emerging smile said it all.
His heart now tugs when he's about to pick his luggage, a duffle bag filled with essentials and nothing more. A week earlier than expected too, relief washing over his body like never before, knowing you're at home waiting for good news. And he's heading that way too, determined, unrelenting, head first, no thoughts. He's going home to you.
Home to warm, delicious food, instead of stale and plain. Home to sweet laughter and love, instead of orders barked and indifference. Home to his, your comfortable bed, arms and legs wrapped around each other, the plump delicious curves of your body pressed against his hardened one. Home to gentle, home to calm, home to soft, home to himself, home to everything. Home to his heart, that is tugging him closer and closer, where he left it with you.
I'm just gonna dump this here and leave. Not proofread because we're old and lazy here.
#cod x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#reader is fat in my mind#reader is always fat#simon ghost riley x fat reader#simon ghost riley x plus size reader#i really like to make simon sound like a dog#maybe next time he straight up wears the collar and barks lmfao#but really tho? maybe
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Being in an Established Relationship with Jayce and Viktor âą Headcanon
(Gif not mine)
Request: I am desperate for more Jayce x Viktor x Reader content! Would I be able to request headcanons for what an established relationship with them would be like?? đ„ș -- @spatialwave
Warnings: gn!reader, first time writing arcane and jayvik so I hope it's all good!!
A.N: Andy (@spatialwave) has inspired me so much so PLEASE go read their beautiful writing! You need to understand I got this request LAST NIGHT, I just had to bang it out I was writing like a FIEND. I loved writing this so much, I hope to write more in the future!! Hope you enjoy!
âą
Being in a relationship with Jayce and Viktor is like being a part of an old married couple that simultaneously bickers all the time and is just falling in love all over again every day
Jayce is like a ray of sunshine on a summer afternoon
He's clingy--but not overwhelmingly so. Jayce just has to have some sort of body part on either of you at all times (except in the lab unless he's feeling especially in love that day)
He loves putting his arms around your waist, chest pressed up against your back and lips ghosting over your neck. Jayce is a bit more subtle with Viktor, since your other partner prefers smaller touches, so their fingers are always tangled together. Some days Jayce will even sneak his hand into Vik's back pocket, making the slimmer boy light up red from the neck up
Jayce is also the type of boyfriend that will always have you two on his mind. He picks a flower from someone's garden to give it to you because "the vibrancy of its color reminded me of your eyes," or buys a little knick knack for Viktor because "I thought you would find it hilariously stupid" (Viktor will put it on his already cluttered desk at the lab because Jayce was right, it is stupidly funny)
Jayce will always get an A for effort because even if he can't remember how you like your coffee or tea, it's the thought that counts
Has bigass puppy dog eyes and he fucking knows how to use them against you two
All he has to do is look between you and Vik with those golden eyes are you're both putty in his hands
Speaking of being putty in hands, Jayce is the cuddler of the relationship
Which is good because he is also the space heater of the relationship too
Will basically have Viktor curled up on one side and you on the other. His face will be buried in Viktor's hair, placing sleepy kissed on his scalp. His fingers will rub circles on the small of your back. Jayce is the best pillow and blanket in all of Piltover AND Zaun
Viktor, on the other hand, is like the moon at midnight
He loves the both of you in a slightly different way than Jayce
While Jayce is more touchy and exuberant with his love, Vik is certainly more subtle, though that doesn't mean he loves you two any less
He is actually exceptionally smitten with you and Jayce. It's like his walls come crashing down whenever you two are with him. He could come back from having a disagreement about a project with Heimer, with his jaw clenched and brows furrowed, and then he'll spot you and Jayce in your shared apartment and it all melts away
Viktor isn't carrying the world on his shoulders with his partners around him. He knows that you guys will lift the hefty weight from his shoulders
While Viktor isn't as touchy ad you or Jayce, he shows his presence in other ways.
Viktor will always have at least one eye on you at all times. It's not that he doesn't trust you two (on the contrary, you two are the only people he trusts with his life), he just needs to know his lovers are ok
Jayce could be tinkering with something in the lab and 50% of Viktor's attention will be on him. Making sure he doesn't shock himself or mix the wrong chemicals together. And if that does ever happen, Viktor drops everything to help him. He masks his worry with wit, but the mask is transparent for you and Jayce
Viktor is also the one with the extreme attention to detail. Your coffee or tea is always right and always the right temperature in the morning. A scarf is always hanging on the coat rack near the front door on chilly days for you. Puts a bookmark in the book you're reading when you unexpectedly fall asleep reading on the couch
He is so big on being a gentleman. Will open doors for you two, pull out seats during a nice dinner. Also is the type to lift up your hand so he can kiss your knuckles (he knows this drives you wild and he struggles to hide a smirk at your heated face)
The three of you are witty and biting and funny in your own ways, quips are basically thrown around every hour of the day. The day isn't complete without someone rolling their eyes. Teasing knows no bounds--the apartment, the lab, a fancy dinner, in front of councilmen and women--doesn't matter
Every day you feel lucky to have these two as your partners, you really hit the jackpot with them. They're caring and attentive and loving in ways no one else is
And they feel the exact same way
âą
#arcane#arcane x reader#arcane x you#jayce talis#jayce talis x reader#jayce talis x you#jayce talis x viktor#jayce x viktor#viktor arcane#viktor x reader#viktor x you#jayvik#jayvik x reader#jayvik x you#arcane headcanons#arcane fanfiction
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puppy love - modern!cregan stark x fem!reader
Summary: Searching for peace in a quiet town takes an unexpected turn when your neighborâs dog decides you have to be his new best friend. One look at the neighbor and youâre totally fine with getting a two-for-one deal.
Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!
Word count: 2.5k
A large painting of a wolf pack hung over the fireplace. (Y/N) stared at it, biting her lip. Â
She wasnât even sure she knew how to light the damn fire.
Was this whole thing a bad idea? Trading in her modern Kingâs Landing studio for a tiny house in Winterfell? A big city girl in a small town. Yeah, she mightâve officially lost her mind.
âI hope itâs to your liking, dear,â came the sharp but grounding voice of Mrs. Glover, snapping her back to reality. The elderly landlady was already fastening her fur coat.
âItâs... cozy,â she replied with her best smile. Didnât want to admit to herself that she was feeling wildly out of place.
âGood.â Mrs. Glover nodded, satisfied. âNow, remember, once the snow hits, youâll need to keep that fireplace going. Northern frost is a bitch.â She placed the house keys on the small wooden table. âRentâs due by the tenth.â
âIâll remember,â (Y/N) said quickly. âThanks again for lowering the price.â
Mrs. Glover waved her hand dismissively. âDonât even mention it. Iâm in a hurry to get to Essos, and these silly umbrella cocktails are calling my name.â
The old woman paused at the door. âYou sure you can handle moving everything in on your own? I have to head out, but the Stark boy lives just across the street. Strong lad, good arms, Iâm telling ya. Handsome, too. Heâd help, if you ask nicely.â She winked. âIf I were only a few decades youngerâŠâ
âAll good, maâam,â (Y/N) cut in, her face heating up. âI donât have much. A few boxes, really.â
âWell, if you say so, Miss Independent. Good luck!â
With that, Mrs. Glover disappeared with a screech of tires in her flaming red car, leaving (Y/N) standing alone in front of her new home. Â
She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She could absolutely do this. Sheâd unpack before sundown, get settled, and everything would be fine. Better than fine, even. This place was going to be a fresh start. An escape from the Big Disaster, also known as her last relationship.
Sheâd find the meaning of life in the wild North or however that saying went.
She was currently standing in front of her open trunk, debating what to take first. And then something licked her hand.
Slowly, she turned her head, still not fully registering what was happening, and met the gaze of big brown eyes belonging to a fluffy creature as black as the night. A light pink tongue paused halfway, as if waiting for her reaction.
âOh, gods,â she whispered, frozen in place. âAre you a dog or a wolf? Please, be a dog. A friendly one.â
Her new friend barked in response and rolled onto its back in the universal gesture of please love me.
âYouâre a dog,â she sighed in relief, dropping to her knees to give him a good belly rub. âA boy, huh? A beautiful one. But where did you come from?â
Animals donât talk apparently. The girl glanced around instead. Sheâd left the gate open, sure, but he had to come from somewhere.
The dog let out a low grumble, tail thumping against the ground. She scratched his head, laughing softly. After a few minutes, he got up, shook off the dust, and placed one paw on her car.
âIâm moving into this house,â she informed him, picking up one of the smaller boxes from the trunk. She liked talking to pets, even though they couldnât offer much in the way of conversation. âIâve got a lot to do, but after that, we couldââ
And just like that, the dog vanished as suddenly as heâd appeared. (Y/N) stood there, blinking at the empty yard.
âBye?â she called out, shaking her head in disbelief. He probably went home.
She continued unpacking, but on her third trip to the car, she saw him again, this time with a tennis ball clamped between his teeth. He had so much hope in his eyes.
âDo you want to play?â she asked, amused. The moment she said the magic word, his ears perked up in excitement. âWhere are you even from?â
She should have been unpacking. She knew that. But how could she say no to a cutie like him?
âGood boy!â (Y/N) laughed as the dog leapt into the air and caught the ball in his mouth, mid-throw.
âExcuse me, is he harassing you, lady?â she suddenly heard a low, masculine voice behind her.
The dog dropped the ball from his mouth, adopting a tragic, martyr-like expression.
She spun around, heart pounding, and found herself face-to-face with a man who looked like a classic Northern lord from the past. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark, wild hair and a beard that framed a strong jaw. He had these gray eyes that were both piercing and soft.
âHeâs mine,â the stranger explained with a half-smile, clearly catching her staring.
âOh, Iâm so sorry. I didnât mean to steal him, just so you knowâ (Y/N) finally spoke up, cheeks flushing. âHe just... showed up. With the ball. So, I thoughtâŠâ
Her awkward explanation was interrupted by his laugh, loud and kind.
âDonât worry, I didnât think you were kidnapping him,â he said, hands in his pockets. âI was just making sure he wasnât bothering you. He mustâve jumped the fence. I saw you two from across the street.â
Ah. The young Stark.Â
âNo, not at all,â she reassured him, finally getting her words in order. âHeâs well-behaved. Whatâs his name?â
The dark cloud of fur came closer and laid at her feet, cementing their new alliance.
The man hesitated for a moment. (Y/N) looked at him expectantly.
âFrosty,â he finally mumbled, looking at the ground.
It was the girlâs turn to laugh.
âYou named this huge black wolf-ass looking creature Frosty?â she asked, scratching the dog behind his ears. He was absolutely delighted.
âHe likes the cold,â Stark offered with a small shrug, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. âAnd you areâŠ?â
â(Y/N). Iâd shake your hand, but Iâm doing something important. Nice to meet you though.âÂ
âCregan,â he said, placing a hand over his heart with a grin. âNice to meet you too. Frostyâs obviously on cloud nine. Heâs usually not that trusting. Friendly with other dogs, sure, but picky with people. You must be special.â
Her heart swelled at those words. What an honor.
âHeâs my first friend in Winterfell.â
Cregan smiled and looked at her car, noticing the boxes still inside.
âSo, renting from Mrs. Glover?â
âYeah, I just moved in from Kingâs Landing today.â
âCity girl, yeah?â He whistled, leaning against the side of the car with a thoughtful look. âYouâve come a long way. But hey, Iâm not complaining. Weâre neighbors now. I live across the street.â
(Y/N) flashed a smile. âIâm not complaining either.â
âPlease feel welcome to ask if you ever need anything. Iâll give you my number, just in case.â
Smooth, Cregan, smooth.
Rolling up his sleeves, Cregan walked over and hefted the biggest box out of the trunk like it was nothing.
âNow, letâs help you with that.â
That old hag was right. He had good arms.
The Northern frost was, indeed, a bitch.
But the warmth of the fire, the soft couch beneath her, and Frostyâs massive, fluffy body draped across her lap made the afternoon bearable. (Y/N)âs hand had long since gone numb from petting the dog, but his fur was addictive.
Her phone suddenly rang, breaking the peace. Frosty, naturally, didnât move a bit. Not even a nuclear explosion could wake him.
Sighing, (Y/N) reached for her phone on the table, already knowing who it was.Â
Helaena Targaryen.
âHowâs the grass-touching and vet-seducing going?â came Helaenaâs voice, sugary sweet and teasing, before she even had a chance to say hello.
âFirst of all, the grass is frozen solid,â she shot back, shifting slightly to keep her lap from completely losing circulation. âAnd second, again. There is no seducing happening.â
âSure, smarty-pants. And youâre totally not babysitting his dog right now.â
âI mean,â the girl sighed with a reluctant smile. âsaid dog kind of invited himself here. And Cregan gave him a backpack full of snacks and toys, like he was dropping him off at daycare.â
He had also scolded him earlier for having dirty paws, saying thatâs not how he raised him. The dog liked her, and she liked both him and his owner. Cregan turned out to be a veterinarian with a small clinic in town. He was working late today, so she had offered to look after his friend. Home office benefits.
Hel snorted loudly on the other end. âOh my god, heâs ridiculous. I love it. By the way, I did a tarot reading for you,â she announced, suddenly taking on a serious and spiritual tone. âThe message is clear. Go after Cregan, let him chop wood and start the fire in yourââ
(Y/N) groaned, facepalming. âYouâve got to stop. Iâm not ready for this. And heâs just kind.â
âKind of having a crush on you. Youâre still hurting after that Gwayne situation, arenât you?â
The mention of his name made her feel sick. âItâs not about him. Iâm just... done with dating for a while.â
âWell, he was a moron,â Helaena said bluntly, her tone shifting from teasing to fierce in a heartbeat. âFor the record, we all stopped talking to him. Aemond wanted to beat him up, but I told him karma would do the job.â
(Y/N) winced, though she appreciated Targaryensâ loyalty. âIâm tired of men.â
âYouâre not tired of men,â Helaena corrected her. âYouâre tired of idiots. Is Cregan an idiot?â
She knew he wasnât.
âHey, if you donât make a move, I will.â
âYouâre the worst.â
âKidding. But please, please, for the love of gods, make him chop some wood for you.â
A strange noise woke her up.
It sounded like something was scratching at the front door. (Y/N) rubbed her eyes, groaning as she crawled out from under the warm blanket. A quick glance at the digital clock. 5:58 a.m. The sun hadnât even thought about rising yet. The scratching persisted.
âIf this is some kind of monster, I swear Iâm not in the mood,â she mumbled, her voice heavy with sleep. Then came a familiar bark, and she frowned.
Frosty?
She cracked the door open, and sure enough, there on the porch stood Creganâs dog, barely visible in the early morning gloom. Frosty barked again, hopped down the steps, and turned to look at her expectantly.
He wanted her to follow him.
âHold on, buddy, let me grab my shoes,â she promised, her voice a mix of anxiety and sleepiness. She hurriedly slipped on her shoes, her mind racing. What if something had happened to Cregan? Was this a âdog leads the way to an emergencyâ situation? With a quick grab of her hoodie, she went after the dog. Frosty kept looking back at her to make sure she was keeping up.
In no time, they arrived at Creganâs house. The door was slightly ajar, and her heart raced as she stepped inside.
âCregan?â she called out hesitantly.
âYeah?â came his voice from the right, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.
Cregan Stark stood by the kitchen counter, looking mildly confused with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. He was clad only in gray sweatpants, the silver wolf pendant around his neck glinting in the soft light.
âAre you okay?â she blurted out, still trying to catch her breath.
âFeeling great. Want some coffee?â he asked, raising an eyebrow.
(Y/N) pulled out a chair and plopped down, staring at Frosty, who was wagging his tail like he had just saved the day.
âAm I a joke to you?â Frosty tilted his head, giving her an innocent look. "He came to my door like some heroic rescue dog. I thoughtââ She sighed, running a hand through her messy hair. âI thought something had happened to you. I figured youâd, I donât know, passed out or something. Iâm pretty sure I just aged ten years.â
Cregan cast a side glance at Frosty, lips twitching as he tried to keep a straight face. "Frosty, man, whatâs the deal?â he asked the dog, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.
(Y/N) narrowed her eyes. âThis is not funny.â
âYou really got that worried?âÂ
âYes! And here you are, in perfect shape. Alive,â she muttered, her eyes trailing over his very much alive form, pausing on his very defined abs. âAnd half-naked. I might cry.â
That did itâCregan turned away quickly, but she saw the grin he was trying to hide as he moved to make her coffee.
âShould I put on a shirt?â he asked, a little more serious now, glancing back over his shoulder. âIf it bothers you.â
âNo, youâve got some nice muscles on your back,â she blurted out without thinking. Frosty rested his head on her knee, looking up at her with his big eyes. âAnd you,â she added, giving the dog a playful glare, âare lucky youâre cute.â
Cregan placed the mug in front of her.
âThanks for the compliment,â he said with a smirk.
âThanks for the coffee,â she replied, feeling the tension melt a little.
Cregan sat across from her, watching her for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face.
âYou look good,â he said finally, sounding genuine. âWant some breakfast?â
Suddenly, it hit her. She was here, no makeup, hair a mess, and still in her pajama pants. She cringed, remembering her earlier comment about his fucking back.
âUh, no, Iâm good,â she mumbled, suddenly self-conscious.
âDinner, then? Later. With me. I know a place. If youâd like, of course,â Cregan suggested quickly, his tone slightly tentative.
(Y/N)âs eyes widened in surprise. Was he... blushing?
âAre you asking me out?â
He let out a soft laugh. âIâve been trying to ask you out since the first time I saw you. Not sure if you noticed,â he admitted. Just then, Frosty went up to him and nudged the ownerâs hand with his nose. âOh, great, emotional support,â Cregan muttered, scratching the dogâs head affectionately.
(Y/N) couldnât help but chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief. âYes.â
âYes?â he echoed, hopeful.
âYes,â she affirmed, her heart racing. âJust let me know what time, and Iâll dress up.â
He flashed her that charming grin, but then his expression shifted. âIâve got an appointment with a chihuahua that bites people. Iâm actually not sure if Iâm gonna make it.â
She liked him so much.
âDo you think itâd be alright if I kissed you before the date, Cregan?âÂ
âOh, please do,â Stark replied, voice and expression desperate.
Without overthinking it, she ended up sitting on his lap, being kissed like there was no tomorrow. Held by the strongest pair of arms that were also so gentle.
Frosty placed an approving paw on Creganâs leg.
Well done, human.
#cregan stark#cregan x reader#modern cregan stark#modern hotd#hotd#hotd fanfic#cregan x you#cregan x y/n#cregan stark imagine
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hybrid au part 3 - FINAL
other parts: one | two
cw: major character death, angst, happy ending tho, lack of communication, loving!kyle agenda, mentions of price finally
a/n: SO THAT'S IT. i hope it was worth the wait!!!! mwah!!!
Kyle noticed the way your light dimmed the following days. He was at a loss, one day you're bouncing off the walls and filling every room with the sweet sound of your purrs and the next it's cold and quiet.Â
He tried everything, bringing home fragrant, expensive food and snacks, toys, whatever he could find that he thought would make you smile again. But nothing seemed to work.Â
When you spend the entire day curled up on the couch, blankly watching TV, he decided he had enough.Â
The following day, he was hooking your collar around your neck and forcing you to go outside into the sunshine.Â
Your eyes burned as you stepped out beneath the sun's blazing beams. Days spent indoors, sleeping most of the daytime hours away, had accustomed you to darkness. It was hot and you already wanted to go back inside but one pitiful look towards Kyle told you that you were not getting out of this easily.
So you hang your head and allow him to lead you down the sidewalk. The military housing area was surprisingly quiet, the only sound was a lawnmower somewhere nearby.Â
Kyle was silent, content with keeping his hand on the small of your back, a kind, protective gesture to assure you that he was still there as you glared at the sidewalk.Â
Before you knew it, the quietness of the neighborhood grew louder and louder until you were walking through the gate of the hybrid-park.Â
You looked around, watching all the happy hybrids and owners running around and playing lighthearted rounds of soccer or football. Casting a glance to Kyle, he gives you a crooked, boyish smile.Â
âWhat do you wanna do?â he asks, glancing around, âWe can take a lap around the park if you'd like?âÂ
You shake your head, âCan we just sit?âÂ
âSure, sweetheart,â he coos, nudging you in the direction of an empty bench.Â
You both take a seat, and look out across the park. While the nights still got quite chilly, it was beautiful during the day - a soothing breeze that rustled the green leaves in the trees and clear blue skies that you could look at for hours.Â
You hated to admit it but - Kyle was right. You were starting to feel better, like a weight was being lifted off your shoulders. Being cooped up in the house didnât help anything, in fact it probably made things worse.
A hand patted your head and you looked over to see Kyle beaming, as if he could see the tension just melt off of you.Â
âI'm going to get us something to drink,â he muttered as he stood up, âLemonade okay with you?âÂ
You nod your head, fluffy ears bouncing atop your head as you do. Kyle has to resist the urge to reach out and pet them, forcing himself to turn around and find a drink stand to get the lemonade from.
You're staring off at a dog hybrid and a young boy playing a heated game of soccer when you hear your name being called.Â
Your head whips around to see Johnny standing there, tail wagging and eyes wide in shock. It's obvious he ran all the way over to where you are from the way his shoulders heave up and down with his heavy panting.Â
âI-â he clears his throat, thinking over what he wanted to say, âI've missed ye.âÂ
Your heart was pounding in your chest, making the blood rush in your ears, âJohnnyâŠâ
âCome home,â he says, desperate and breathless, âI miss ye and I want ye to come back.âÂ
âSimon doesn't want me, JohnnyâŠâ you mutter, feeling shame burn at your cheeks as you look down at your hands - nails neatly filed down by Kyle just a few days ago.Â
âTo hell with him!â he spits, âI want you back, isn't that enough?âÂ
Your frown deepens. His selfishness ignites irritation within you, tears pricking at the backs of your eyes.Â
âWhy?â you ask, voice breaking as the word slips past your lips, âWhy should I have to live like that? Being hated while you get to be loved?â Johnny says your name but you cut him off before he can say anything else, âThat's not fair, Johnny. I have Kyle now and he loves me! I'm happy with him.â
âCan't ye be happy with me too?â he asks, sad, teary eyes cutting right through your heart.Â
âOf course I could Johnny butâŠâ before you can continue there's a sharp call of the pupâs name and both of you freeze.Â
Johnny looks over his shoulder to see Simon jogging up behind him, a fierce glare in his brown eyes. A rough, gloved hand grabs the back of the hybridâs collar.Â
âWhat the hell do you think you're doinâ runninâ off like that?â Simon snaps, anger masking the clear worry he had experienced at his missing companion.Â
âI was justâŠâ Johnnyâs eyes drift to you and that's when Simon acknowledges your existence.Â
The sneer on his face is clear even through the mask and it makes you shrink in on yourself, ears flattened back. Even after all this time, the sting of his rejection remains strong and hurts just the same.Â
âWhatâs a gutter rat like you doinâ here?â Simon snaps.Â
It annoys him that you're always at the source of his problems with Johnny. Whenever the pup misbehaves, you're always there. A bad influence. Typical cat.Â
You look at Johnny. He doesnât meet your gaze, instead staring up at his owner with an apologetic expression. You want him to speak up. You want him to defend you, to tell Simon to be nice or to apologize or tell him what you mean to him.Â
But Johnny just sighs, âSorry, Si.âÂ
The lack of defense towards you in the face of Simon solidifies everything for you in that moment. You look down at your lap, the crack in your heart only aching and stinging more and more with every beat of silence that passes between the three of you.Â
Something ice cold touches the back of your neck and you yelp, launching yourself off the bench and onto the ground. Laughter fills your ears and you turn to glare at Kyle who holds a large plastic cup of lemonade - the cold thing heâd just surprised you with.Â
âSorry, love!â he apologizes but the laughter shows he's anything but.Â
Soap speaks up then, asking if Kyle knows you. Your ownerâs brown eyes shine with pride as he affectionately ruffles your hair.
âFound them on the street and brought them home!â Kyle tells them, sounding much like a proud father, âBest decision of my life!â
Your cheeks burn at his praise, his kind, loving words remedy the painful stinging in your heart that had been brought on by your previous owner. You take the cup of lemonade when he offers it to you, taking a sip and cringing at the sour taste that hits your tongue â much to Kyleâs amusement.
âYou guys are welcome to come over anytime,â Kyle says, smiling as he affectionately pets your ears, âIâm sure this cute kitten would love to have a friend to hang out with.â
âYeahâŠmaybe,â Simon mumbles, sending you a sidelong glance that was cold and empty â telling you everything you needed to know without saying it. Absolutely not.
You find that you donât mind that much. The idea of never seeing Simon or his painfully hateful gaze was nice. But when you looked at Johnny, who was staring at you in despair â you find yourself mumbling in response, âMaybe someday.â
The hope in Johnnyâs eyes seers into your mind, even long after youâve parted ways and gone home for the day.Â
The days pass in relative ease. The depressive rut you found yourself in melts away and Kyle is thrilled to see that youâve returned to your bright, bubbly self. You greet him at the door when he walks in, sit and purr beside him while you both eat dinner together, curl up against his side and happily snooze the night away.Â
Itâs peaceful bliss.
But one evening, Kyle returns home and tosses his heavy duffle bag onto the floor with a thunk. You get up to greet him, stretching your arms high above your head before padding over to him with a sleepy smile on your face. Kyle opens his arms for you, letting you tuck yourself into his chest for a hug. A loud purr emanates from your chest that only seems to make Kyleâs shoulders drop.
âWhatâs the matter?â you ask when you catch a look at his face when he pulls away; brows furrowed and lips in a tight line.
âJust got some sad news, thatâs all, lovie,â he mutters, patting your head before he moves into the kitchen to start preparing dinner.
âWhat news?â you ask, following after him, tail swishing nervously behind you.Â
Did his parents pass away? Did a friend get hurt?
Kyle sets out some vegetables on the counter, hunting around for a knife before sighing, âYou remember Simon and Johnny? We met them at the park the other day?â
You nod your head, âOf course.â
âThere was an accident a couple days ago,â Kyle explains, slowly chopping up the celery on the cutting board, âJohnny got hit. He didnât make it. Simonâs tore up about it.â
It feels like everything freezes right then and there for you. You no longer hear the chopping of the knife, no longer hear Kyle's voice or the sound of traffic outside on the street. All you can hear is the pounding in your ears and the sound of your own breathing.
Images flash behind your eyes in your grief. You can see Johnnyâs boyish smile and his boisterous laugh emanating down the hallway. You can see him so clearly, wrapped around you as you snuggle and snooze together as the rain falls outside. You can hear the animated way he would tell you stories, waving his hands around and his tail thumping loudly on the floor.
You donât even realize youâre crying until you feel a hand cup your cheek. You blink away the tears and Kyleâs face comes into view, worry etched onto it.Â
âWhat is it, lovie? Why are you crying?â he asks, clearly concerned.
âJohnnyâs dead?â you ask, voice broken and wobbly as you fight to talk through tears.
âYeah, love,â Kyle coos, thumbing beneath your eyes to rub away some tears, âWhy are you so upset?â
Everything tumbles from your lips then. You tell him about how you lived on the street, how your life changed the day you met a rambunctious pup who wouldnât take no for an answer until he had himself a friend. You tell Kyle about how, even though Simon was awful to you, Johnny was a light in the dark and how much you adored him and how much he meant to you. You tell him how Simon threw you out like trash and how much it hurt and how much you missed Johnny despite everything.Â
Kyle held you through it all, tucking you tenderly against his chest as you cried it all out.
âI had no idea, lovie,â he whispers into your hair, pressing sweet kisses to your forehead when your breathing becomes erratic.Â
âI-I never got to settle things with him,â you wail, âHe wanted me to come home and I-I couldnât give him an answer.â
Kyle sighs, cupping the back of your head, rocking you back and forth until your cries quiet down to hiccuping sniffles, âItâll be alright, sweetheart. Everything will be okay.â
Truthfully, he doesnât know what else to say. He doesn't know how he can make this hurt go away or help you soothe the grief youâre experiencing. All he can do is hold you close and comfort you whenever you need.
This time, when Kyle notices how sad you are as the days pass, he doesnât force you to leave the house or do anything. He just lets your sadness run its course, doing what he can to ease your burden by making your favorite dishes and letting you watch your favorite movies over and over again until he can practically recite them by heart.
Thereâs a knock at the door that startles the both of you one evening. Kyleâs on his feet in seconds, hand drifting towards the firearm he keeps nearby before he looks through the peephole on the door and relaxes.Â
You peek over the back of the couch as he opens the door. Simon stands there.Â
Although he is masked, you can practically see how worn down and utterly devastated he is.Â
âWhatâs up?â Kyle asks, hand twitching to reach out for the older man but thinks better of it. âDo you need something?â
âI wanna talk to that one,â Simon nods in your direction, where youâre still peeking over the couch.Â
Kyle turns to look at you over his shoulder, asking your consent. You think it over for a few seconds before you nod your head. Not like Simon would do anything with Kyle here.Â
He steps aside to let the larger man enter and closes the door, giving an excuse about getting drinks before disappearing into the kitchen.
Simonâs heavy boots vibrate the floor as he takes a few large steps towards you. You scoot to the other side of the couch when he sits down, the couch bouncing with his added weight.
His hands are folded between his knees where he rests his elbows on them. His tattooed skin ripples and flexes as he nervously fidgets with his hands.Â
âJohnny wanted you to come home,â he starts out, staring intently at the floor. You swear you can see tears beading at his lower lash line as he says his companions name, âSo Iâm here to see if you will.â
âYou want me back?â you ask softly, anxiously pulling a pillow into your lap.
Simon nods, âItâs what Johnny wanted. He cared about you, loved you. Youâre all I have left of him.â
Youâre silent at that.Â
Despite everything, your heart aches for Simon. He adored Johnny more than anything â even if he hated you, his love for the pup was palpable. You could see it in his face every time he saw Johnny, eyes scrunching up happily. Johnny was his world and now that world was gone and Simon was left with nothing but bitter emptiness and a void that he was desperate to fill.Â
You found yourself opening your mouth, ready to agree â ready to be the one to soothe your ex-owners devastating hurt. But then you found yourself looking into the kitchen, to Kyleâs back. He was hunched over the counter, vigorously mixing something in a bowl and you realized that you didnât want to leave him.Â
Kyle was yours. Kyle was everything you could ever need or want. He wanted and loved you when you thought no one else would. He didnât give up on you even when you were difficult and cold. He cared about you, thought about you every day. He gave you everything you wished for so desperately during your time living with Simon.Â
âI canât,â you find yourself whispering, tears filling your eyes at how much it hurt to turn Simon away, âI know Johnny would want me to be with you, to make sure youâre okay without him butâŠI love Kyle and I want to stay with him.â
âSo thatâs it then?â Simon asks, voice small and weaker than youâve ever heard it before. You know thereâs a crushing weight on his heart right now, knowing he will be going home alone to a painfully empty and cold house.Â
âYeahâŠâ You whisper, unable to look up at him as he rises to his feet.Â
Kyle comes out of the kitchen with a steaming bowl in his hands, asking Simon if he was okay as he passes by him to the front door. The larger man just grunts in response and opens the door. The quiet click of it closing is all you hear of his departure before the warm bowl is in your lap.Â
Itâs a bowl of broth that makes your mouth water. The fact Kyle had made it for your just because warmed your heart.
âIs everything okay?â he asks, sitting down next to you, arm tossed over the couch behind you, fingers mindlessly stroking over the fuzzy surface of your ear.
âHe wanted me to go home with him,â you respond, taking a sip of the broth.
âYou said no?â he asks. You catch the worry in his tone â like he was scared you were going to tell him you were leaving him soon.
But you nod and his body relaxes in relief, âHe only wanted me back because I reminded him of Johnny. He didnât really want me, just the image of Johnny.â
Kyle nods, leaning over to kiss your temple, âThat man loved that pup. But Iâm glad youâre here to stay.â
You look over at him from over the bowl of broth as you sip it, âYeah?â
âI would have let you go if thatâs what you really wanted butâŠâ He looks a little sheepish as he continues, âIt would have hurt to see you go, kitty. I meant it when I said adopting you was the best decision of my life.â
You place the bowl down on the coffee table before launching yourself into his arms. He grunts as your weight slams against him, knocking him back onto the couch as he laughs. His arms wrap around you in a bear hug, squeezing you so hard that your ribs ache but you donât even think about trying to pull away.
Though you donât say it, he knows that youâre his to keep and that you love him just as much as he loves you. He couldnât imagine life without you now.Â
BONUS:Â
âI think my boss is gettinâ impatient to meet you, you know,â he mumbles in your shoulder.
âYour boss?â you ask, voice almost too quiet to hear over your loud purring.
âYeah, the old manâs been dyinâ to meet the cute kitten I talk about all the time at work,â he explains.
âYou talk about me?â you ask, peeking up shyly.
He grins, âAll the time. I think everyoneâs sick of my voice at this point. But the Captain's really been begging to come and meet you. Iâve been waiting for a good time to bring it up. Heâs a bit of a lover so youâd have to put up with all the pets and hugs he has to offer.â
Your eyes shine in interest, âI want to meet him!â
Kyle chuckles, reaching up to pet one of your twitching ears, âIâll make the call then and set up dinner.â
You were excited to meet a new person. You hoped he was as kind and gentle as Kyle was. And even though the idea of Simon sitting alone and hurt in his house with nothing but the memories of his best friend, you werenât going to let that stop you from opening up new chapters in your own life.Â
do not repost on other websites, translate, or modify. reblogs welcome!
#simon riley x reader#john mactavish x reader#kyle garrick x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#ghost x reader#soap x reader#gaz x reader#cod x reader
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crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.
i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.
in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.
i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.
i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.
plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.
the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.
we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.
i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.
a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.
today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.
loved beyond thinking.
#spilled ink#writeblr#personal#please don't ask me to talk on my experience on the spectrum lol. i hate how ppl talk to me about it#i really try not to write so specifically about it#bc inevitably someone talks to me like im a child#i think this is the first time i've ever openly identified with it but i've been hinting for years#i might delete this. feels big.#the thing is that being on the spectrum actually IS a spectrum#and if u say ur autistic#inevitably someone makes an assumption about ur needs/symptoms#please do not treat me differently than u usually would. like.... we can tell when you do#and like i mention. i do appreciate the effort. i do truly appreciate the effort.#but it still feels like...#when i was blind. sometimes people kind of did the same-ish thing.#they'd find out i was blind and start talking really loudly?#and while i KNOW they're just trying to help. it would be like. i'd be trying to find#the right way into a building (sometimes only 1 door is unlocked and i couldn't see the signs posted about where to go)#and ppl would be like ''OH UR BLIND? YES SO THIS IS A DOOR. IT OPENS INTO THE BUILDING. IT IS LOCKED NOW."#''A DOOR CAN BE FOUND IN MANY LOCATIONS.''#and it feels like. when i admit to being autistic#someone comes screeching into my life being like THIS IS A DOOR.
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James Potter is easily the biggest of the three. Heâs just so muscular and strong, but in a soft way. Heâs got a soft layer of fat protecting his muscles, and I imagine heâs very freckled too. Not sure why. He is the epitome of a golden retriever boyfriend. He likes being the big spoon, and has an INCREDIBLE weak spot for getting his hair played with. Like, itâs literally orgasmic to him. He grew up with everything. Love, money, etc, etc, so heâs probably the touchiest (at first), and is all over you from the start. Also, I think he often forgets his strength and squeezes u too hard and youâve gotta be like âuh.. Jamie..? Youâre.. youâre kinda squeezing-â and he just puts an arm over ur mouth like âshut up, baby. Sorry. Love you.â Heâs adorable.
Remus Lupin is just a normal sized boy, and runs hot like a radiator. Honestly. He doesnât even need all those knitted sweaters and warm coffee because he just is the embodiment of autumn warmth. Heâs littered with silver scars from his lycanthropy, so when u see him naked for the first time, heâs so self conscious. Heâd have his arms wrapped around himself, shielding his scars from your view, and youâve got to prize his hands off of himself. âIâm sorry.. i know theyâre not.. appealing.. itâsâŠâ and youâre just like âwoah, rem, what? Youâre fucking beautiful.â You say that, and heâs yours. Heâs not used to love like James is, but heâs probably the one to start getting cuddly. I imagine itâs winter and heâs reading in the common room, and ur shivering because by some miracle the fire isnât on. He looks up from his book, admiring you for a while and then lifts up his sweater. You SHOOT underneath it and basically curl up like a cat against his bare chest. I repeat: HE IS SO FUCKING WARM. Youâd probably have an âeternal sunshine of the spotless mindâ moment with him at the start of your relationship though. You know when Clementine is saying she always thought she was ugly and Joel starts kissing her and saying âyouâre pretty, youâre pretty, youâre prettyâŠâ yeah, youâd be Joel and heâd be Clementine. But once heâs comfortable, heâs a fucking fiend. Youâll never be cold again, trust me.
Sirius Black is skinny and pale. Like a vampire. Endearingly. I imagine he has a nose piercing and an eyebrow piercing, and heâs all tattooed up. Will DEFINITELY get your initial on his abdomen or collarbone in swirly penmanship. Sirius will act like your best friend even when u two are dating. Bless him though, heâs so used to being hurt and abused by those that are meant to protect him that he canât trust you at first. I think the first time he came to realise you were different is when you asked him what happened after winter break at his parentâs house, because he was being really quiet and flinching a lot which is unlike him. You cornered him in the common room when no one else was there, and asked him âhey, Siri? Whatâs going on, man? Tell me.â He insisted, âIâm fine. I swear, sweetheart.â You went to tuck his black curls behind his ear but he flinched, which shattered your heart. You said âSirius, please. I need to know youâre okay, because I need you safe.â And hearing that, he broke down into your arms. From then on, heâs always in your arms. He adores comforting you, because heâs a big brother himself and so he has the instinct, you know? But man, does he fucking adore being in your arms. He WILL curl up beside you wherever youâre sitting or lying, and is always rubbing against you. He always says âI canât help it, babe, itâs just the dog in me.â Which he seems to find HILARIOUS. Oh yeah, and he literally canât sleep unless youâre the big spoon or his head is on your chest or in your neck. He likes to feel safe and protected for once, and you do that for him to no end. Heâs THE 70s rocker stereotype, and he loves having matching nail polish with you. Youâre best friends as well as lovers.
Sorry for yapping to no end guys!!!
#sirius black x reader#Sirius black prompt#james potter x reader#James potter prompt#remus lupin x reader#Remus Lupin prompt#marauders x reader#the marauders#sirius black scenario#james potter scenario#remus lupin scenario#Sirius blackđ*~#Remus Lupinđ*~#James potterđ*~
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I just listened to "My Tears Ricochet" and had an idea.
TW: Angst *laughs in free therapy*
So, imagine the boys need to fake their deaths. How macabre it is that they attend their own funerals, wanting to watch their loved ones. (These are standalone scenarios they don't fake their death together)
Price: You were his wife for all these years, always waiting for him to return. The funny thing was you could clearly remember the last argument before he left.
"Love, just one more tour, and I'm coming back to you. Then we can start a family and all that, but the boys need me."
"It's always the last tour with you. When is it really the last?"
"This time, I promise."
To some extent, he was right. You thought it was his last tour, but it wasnât fair. You knew it was over when you got the call from General Shepard. Your husband was dead. You lost the love of your life, and all you got were his dog tags and a check large enough to end world hunger. You slapped your friend after she said at least you were financially secure now.
Price watched you from behind a tree. He saw how you clung to his grave, hugging it tightly and lying on it as you always used to with him. Your dress was dirty, and the tears wouldnât come anymore.
When Laswell and Nik approached you, you screamed at them, blaming them for not protecting your husband. You trusted them, and now you couldn't bear to let anyone else near his grave. John wished he could comfort you, tell you he would come back to protect you, but he couldnât. Instead, he sent Simon, who endured all your insults, screams, and even a punch to his crooked nose until you were ready to move on.
Kyle: You and Kyle were born on the same day, in the same room, in the same hospital. It was like a movie; he was your best friend since forever, your first everything, and you were his. It was a love like in all those movies. The only thing separating you was the military, but you stayed home waiting for him. Not even war could separate you. Last year, he brought you that ring. You remember lying in bed, cuddling him as he promised you that you were allowed to die first. He knew you wouldnât survive his death. So he made the silly promise that you would die first. He thought it was the first promise he ever broke to you.
Kyle had to be held back when he saw you crying at his grave. âGuess Iâll find you in the next one, love. Sleep well.â
Ghost: He was never good at love, and he was sure no one would come to his funeral. No one knew "Ghost," and Simon Riley had been buried since 2009. But then he saw you, the cute medic he always tried to push away. He was afraid of hurting you or corrupting you. How could he have known that pushing you away wouldnât stop you from loving a dead man?
All the conversations came flooding back:
"Here, Lt. I made you red velvet cookies, your favorite."
"You're going to sit down and let me fix that, idiot."
"You're beautiful, Ghost."
"You're enough."
"It's kind of silly to be in love with someone whose name you didnât even know. I hope you find your peace, big boy." You placed lilies on his grave and left. In that moment, Simon Riley realized he was loved, and he would burn the world down to come back from the dead just to return to you.
Johnny: Contrary to popular belief among the team, Johnny wasnât a whore. He was a loving husband and father. That was written above "Sergeant" on his grave, at least.
His funeral was crowded with people who wanted to pay their last respects. Most of them were blue-eyed MacTavishes. Then there was you, holding your three-year-old in your arms. He didnât understand why everyone was crying or why Dad wasnât there anymore.
Johnny watched you sit at his grave, sighing as you talked to your husband. "James doesnât understand whatâs going on, but he misses you. He wanted me to give him a mohawk. It looks ridiculous, just like you. I know youâre rocking it in heaven. Just please wait for me, okay? Donât want you to hoe around in heaven," you chuckled, holding back the tears. "You watch us from there, right? Canât miss the birth of your princess, can you?"
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good boy
words: 1.5k
warnings: established relationship, marriage, protective!rafe, (guard??) dog, fluffy
ârafe, it's literally two weeks. ill be fine!â you say, folding his clothes, having dumped out his suitcase onto the bed to reorganize it when you saw how he packed it, just chucking things in.
âtwo weeks where im a hours away from you by plane.â rafe sighs, watching you carefully repack his suitcase as he pouts on the bed, not wanting to leave you.
âyou know, cameron, i lived a whole 20 years before meeting you.â you point out, knowing while rafes concern comes from his love for you, it will completely overwhelm what is supposed to be an enjoyable family vacation and leave him miserable the whole time.
âi don't see why you can't just come with me.â rafe groans, flopping back against the bed. you smile and round the bed to where his head is resting against the pillows. you press a smooch to his forehead, rubbing your hand over his head, petting at his soft hair.
âbaby, it's just for your family. you know that.â it's not like you don't want to accompany rafe to a tropical paradise, but you would feel way too awkward intruding.
âwhat if something happens to you? and im not here to protect you? id be the worst fiancee ever.â rafe grabs your head from rubbing his head, holding up the ring on your finger for him to admire.
ânothing will happen. nothing ever happens here.â you laugh. you're not sure what crime is like on the other side of the island, but your neighborhood is incredibly safe.
âim still worried.â rafe sighs. âyou in that big house all alone.â
âim gonna spend 99% of the time wedding planning.â you hum, thinking about the tabs pulled open on your laptop of different venues, dresses, and color palettes.
that finally gets rafe to crack a smile. âcan't wait to marry you.â rafe says earnestly. he only proposed a month ago, some people would say that you were too young to get married, but rafe knew when you came into his life and turned everything around for him that he had to put a ring on your finger.
âi can't wait either.â you bend down to press a kiss to rafes lips. âbut seriously we need to talk about your packing before we tie the knot, why do you only have one pair of shorts packed for an island?â
-- two years later --
âremember those two weeks you left before we were engaged? it's not really much longer. you should go, baby. it's a good opportunity.â you are sat on rafes lap, back pressed against his chest as he scrolls through his email.
âit's just work, and it's a whole lot longer than two weeks. i don't want to leave you here alone for over a month.â rafe closes out of the email, making you sigh.
âi was fine for those two weeks, ill be fine now. promise. i think you should go! it's a big conference.â you turn sideways on his lap so you can look rafe in the eye. âbesides, it's still six months away. plenty of time to prepare.â
âprepare?â rafe raises his eyebrows. âso you'd be good with security cams around the whole house and personal security?â
âcameras on the outside and hell no. you don't want some random guys watching after me do you?â
you can see the gears turning in rafes head as he frowns. âyeah, you're right. no men.â
âso you'll go?â you smile. rafe closes his eyes for a brief moment before nodding.
âyay!â you squeal. you're not excited to be left alone, and you love being around your husband more than anything, but the work trip is a big deal, and you know he'll be kicking himself if he misses out on such a good opportunity.
--
ârafey?â you call, eyes sweeping across the living room as you enter your shared home, a head full of fresh highlights.
âhubby?â you call out, continuing deeper into the house until you see movement through the glass door leading towards the backyard, but it's not the typical roll of the ocean against the shore.
ârafe?â you question as you open the door. you expected to find him in his office, where he was before you left for the beauty salon.
rafe smiles, waiting for your eyes to look down, and when you finally see what is sitting at rafes feet, you let out a gasp.
âoh my gosh!â you squeal.Â
âwifey, meet max. our new australian shepherd.â rafe gives a command with his hand, that has max running towards you.
you sink to your knees as the young dog excitedly greets you, licking at your hands as you pet him.
âhi maxey.â you coo at the dog, you're guessing around two years old, with max being full size but still having some young features.
ârafe, you didn't tell me you were getting us a dog!â you stand up, max following close behind as you rush to give your husband a hug.
âi have a confession.â rafe says, his hands looped around your waist. you frown, worried that max was just a foster and you'd have to give him back, or that something went wrong with the adoption. you often talked about getting pets before getting married, but wanted to wait a little bit, and then time just slipped away and before you knew it, you were over a year into your marriage.Â
âwhat?â you whine out.
âive been working with a trainer behind your back. i wanted to make sure max was ready before we chose him for sure. he knows commands, me, your scent, our house. everything. he knows his primary responsibility is to protect you and our property.â
âoh my gosh!â you slap rafe in the chest, surprised that he was able to keep such a secret from you. âhow could you do all that without telling me?â you laugh, not angry, but surprised that he was able to orchestrate everything.
you don't wait for rafe to explain how he was able to find so much time, stepping out of his hold to kneel down and continue petting max.
âwe have some more training sessions so he can learn with you as well.â rafe further explains, also leaning down to pet max behind the ears as he pants excitedly at his new owners.
--
âwhat is it maxy?â you ask as he lifts his head up, looking around the living room. âyou miss your daddy?â
you sigh as max lets out a sad sounding huff, petting your hand over his head, scratching at his neck which you know is his favorite. rafe has been gone on his business trip for a month now, with only a week and a half left until he returns home.
max suddenly jumps off the couch, eyes on the backyard. he lets out a bark, claws clicking on the hardwood floor as he moves to the glass door. he lets out another bark, making you stand.
âwhat is it boy?â you ask, looking out the window.
max lets out another bark, this one the familiar territorial bark that heâs practiced in his training with you and rafe. you know the only reason that rafe feels safe enough leaving you home is that max is a great guard dog.
you get closer to the window, squinting your eyes to try and see in the darkness when you sudden jump back with a scream as a squirrel runs across your patio, causing max to bark and run along the glass door until it scatters into the yard.
âholy shit, maxy, you scared the shit out of me.â you press your hand to your chest before kneeling down, scratching behind his ears. âit was just a squirrel.â you reassure him with a pat.
your heart rate is just starting to calm down from the fright when you hear the front door open. max instantly takes off with you following after him, letting out a sigh of relief when you see rafe standing in the foyer.
âbaby.â he sighs happily, setting his suitcase down as you run into his arms, pressing your lips together. âi missed you so much.â
âi missed you too, what are you doing home though?â you ask, giving him another kiss before he can answer.
âthey didnât need me for the rest of the week, decided to get home to my lady.â max barks, making rafe lean down to pet him, still holding you up. âand my good boy too, of course.â
âso happy to have you home.â you nuzzle your nose into rafes neck, inhaling the familiar scent that you missed so much.Â
âhappy to be back with you, wifey.â rafe says, carrying you further into the house.
âoh, and you will be very happy to know maxy did a great job protecting me while you were gone.â you tell rafe. it mostly involved max barking in warning at any delivery guy or car turning around in your driveway, but his presence did help making you feel safer and less loney.
âhopefully not too good.â rafe huffs as he looks at your pet. âcanât have him replacing me now.â
you giggle, surprised rafe can manage to be jealous of your dog. ânever.â you swear, pressing another kiss to his lips.
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