#this is one of the softest things i've written in a while

[silverstarfics]

Today is @thunder-pride trans women day and I’m back with another fic... even if I’m posting it slightly later than planned :)

AO3 link

Kayo had been fortunate enough to call Penelope Creighton-Ward her friend for several years now and in all that time she had not known Penelope to go anywhere without a full face of makeup even once. She’d concluded that it was a form of battle armour much like the way she instantly felt safer when she wore her IR uniform or how Scott always seemed to stand just that little bit taller when he put on a suit before a Tracy Industries meeting.

The part she’d never fully understood was Penelope’s reasons for requiring such armour. She carried herself with sophisticated grace and never seemed intimidated by any situation. Kayo had never known her to let on any trace of nerves even in the face of mortal peril. So, it didn’t really make sense.

It wasn’t heavy makeup, but subtle. Pretty – although that seemed too tame of a word to describe Penelope. She had the sort of beauty which left people breathless, Kayo included. It was impossible to tell where the makeup ended and her natural face began; a brush of highlighter, rose blush, a dab of lipstick and mascara. There was a long list of products which Penelope had once attempted to explain to her, but Kayo had been distracted by her friend’s slinky dress at the time, not to mention that makeup was hardly a topic which interested her even when her eyes weren’t constantly being drawn elsewhere.

Currently, she was lounged across Penelope’s bed like an overgrown housecat, chin propped in her hands and hair loose around her shoulders as she waited for Penny to finish applying concealer so that they could head downstairs for breakfast. There were several questionable members of the British aristocracy staying at the manor and Kayo secretly suspected that she’d been invited along so that Penelope had someone to complain to whenever they had a spare moment.

“You know,” she mused, absently petting Sherbet’s back as he wriggled under her chin to curl up in her arms, “You don’t have to wear makeup. You’re beautiful enough without it.”

Penelope lowered a brush and twisted to throw her an amused look. “That was very charming. Have you been taking lessons from Scott?”

“What? No. I’m just stating a fact.”

“And I’m flattered.” Penelope turned back to her mirror, voice growing softer as she concentrated on applying bronzer in all the right places. “Although you should know I don’t choose to wear makeup purely for appearance’s sake.”

Kayo sat up, gathering her legs beneath her to drum her fingers against her knees. Every time Penelope offered a glimpse of the secrets she held behind her carefully curated persona, her heartrate spiked. It was better than any rescue-induced adrenaline rush. Kayo wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it; whether it meant something more or if she’d imagined those looks which seemed to pass between them lately – softened with the warmth of not-quite-platonic affection and tainted by longing.

“Um,” she said eloquently, faltering as her eyes met Penelope’s in the mirror. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear self-consciously. “Why do you choose to wear it then?”

Penelope ducked her head, busying her hands with an eyeshadow palette. There was a vulnerable trust in the air between them which was quite unlike anything Kayo had come across before. For a moment, the silence seemed to take on its own quality: tender and inviting confessions like an early hour of the morning when all inhibitions fled.

“Kayo,” Penelope began hesitantly, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. “Tanusha. You’re aware I’m trans, aren’t you?”

Kayo shuffled forward on the bed, close enough to spy the unease in Penelope’s eyes. “Yeah, I know. But Penny, I don’t really understand the relevance?”

Penelope remained quiet for a moment. A little crease developed between her brows as she considered her next choice of words and Kayo longed to brush it away with her thumb.

“Makeup does not equate femininity,” Penelope said at last. “I’m a woman regardless of whether I wear it, but I find it easier to connect with my own femininity. It helps my confidence. Not to mention that I enjoy the process.” Her gaze flickered back to Kayo’s in the mirror. “Does that make sense?”

“Absolutely.” Kayo cleared a set of brushes out of the way and perched on the edge of the vanity, propping her feet on Penelope’s chair. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

Penelope’s smile rivalled the sun. “Of course not, darling. Don’t be ridiculous.”

She held out a bottle of something shimmery and a brush and Kayo took them without mentioning the faint tremors running through Penny’s hands. Vulnerability was always terrifying no matter how much you trusted the person.

“It’s highlighter,” Penelope explained, lips twitching with repressed laughter as she spied the open confusion on Kayo’s face. “Could you help me apply it?” She traced a line across her cheekbone. “Not too much, the product is quite pigmented.”

Kayo swallowed. “I- Yeah. Yes. Sure. I’ll just…”

She cupped Penelope’s jaw, turning her face into the sunlight. She prayed Penelope couldn’t sense her nerves nor her fluttering heartbeat, not to mention the hot flush working its way up her neck at their proximity. She swore she was holding her breath. Their eyes met and she froze, transfixed by impossible blue irises.

Penelope reached up and caught her wrist before she could lift her hand away. “Thank you.”

Kayo cleared her throat. “Anytime.” She surveyed the various products and stared at what looked like an honest-to-god torture device. “Penny, what the hell is this?”

Penelope couldn’t hold back her laughter. “It’s called an eyelash curler.”

“I’m pretty sure this could be used to kill someone.”

“In my hands or yours, certainly.”

Kayo slid off the vanity and crossed to stand behind Penelope’s chair, bracing herself against the wooden frame to lean over Penelope’s head and glimpse her own reflection in the mirror. She’d never really considered makeup until now. Her own battle armour was sharp words, glares and her training. She could hurt anyone before they hurt her and she found it a relief. But it was different for Penelope and she wanted to understand that.

“Kayo?” Penelope held up a liquid eyeliner. “Would you like to try some?”

Kayo lowered her chin to the crown of Penelope’s head with a sigh. “I don’t actually know how. I’d just mess it up.”

Penelope turned in her chair with a delighted gleam in her eyes. “I’d be happy to apply it for you.”

Kayo went to protest, then trailed off, partly from curiosity as to how it would look but mostly due to the fact she was incapable of saying no when Penelope smiled like that. “Okay.”

It took all of her self-control to keep her expression neutral. Penelope’s touch was delicate as she swiped wet ink in sharp lines, her hands warm on Kayo’s face. She set the eyeliner down with a satisfied smile and gently turned Kayo’s cheek to spy their reflections.

“Huh.”

“Immaculate,” Penelope declared.

Kayo grinned. “Pretty cool.”

“A work of art,” Penelope corrected.

“Nope.” Kayo dared to press a light kiss to Penelope’s temple. “That’s you.”

Penelope pushed her away with a laugh. “You’re becoming quite the smooth talker, Miss Kyrano.” She slipped into her rose-coloured heels and held out a hand. “Come along, darling. Our guests are waiting.”

Kayo allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. “Can’t we just send them home early?”

“Sadly, no.” Penelope entwined their fingers. “But I promise I’ll make it up to you later.”

[sluts4matt]

BEACH VLOG

pairing: soft!matt x latina!reader

summary: vlogging a day at the beach with your boyfriend and his brothers is always fun. until matt starts getting handsy and you guys have to go away from the two.

warnings: SMUT, fingering, pet names, tons of praising, public, no actual p in v, fluff tbh

word count: 1079

author's note: i really hope i did your request justice @kscutzzzz, might be the softest thing i've written so far tbh

"look at this shell," you say to nick who points the vlog camera at you. your body was clad in a black two-piece bathing suit, the fabric hugging your honey-colored skin nicely. matt and chris come up behind the two of you, giggling like morons.

a small grin tugs at your lips feeling matt's arms snake around your waist. your finger traced the tattoos on his left arm. "a shell?" the brunette questions, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. "yes, yes," you babble like a child, "a pretty shell."

you turn in the boy's grasp, the camera still recording the two of you. his arms hugged your waist as he looked down at you. you brought the shell in between the two of you, showing it to him with innocent eyes. "see?"

matt nods, "it's beautiful." you grin, leaning up to peck his lips before wiggling out of his grasp and running back to where you got it from. "awe, so cute," chris mocked while nick cooed, the two brothers looking at matt.

"still don't understand how you bagged that at the ripe age of fifteen," chris chuckles, watching you run towards the shore. you had always been a bit weird, never in a bad way though.

the way you giggled at the smallest of things, and the way your voice would change to sounding like a child when you were excited had always made matt's heart flutter. and it still did even after five years.

"she's amazing," matt simply states, watching you bend over, the black bikini bottoms accentuating your ass. his mouth practically watered. "gonna marry her someday," matt mumbles before walking towards you.

"what are you doing baby?" he asks, watching as you scrape your feet around the wet sand and examine the ground. "looking for more shells, wanna help?" you ask, giving him the cutest puppy dog look.

matt grins, nodding his head. the two of you began to search around the sandy floor, and matt would be lying if he said he wasn't looking up every so often to sneak a glance at you.

you bent over a lot, giving him the perfect view of your cleavage. god, he wanted nothing more than to rip that thing off of you and fuck you right here in the ocean. "oh look, i found a starfish," you exclaim, pointing at the sea creature that occupied an underwater rock and making a 'yay' noise.

"good job babe," matt compliments, and you give him a proud grin. you were the sweetest girl in the world, and the fact that you were his made his ego rise.

"how about we swim now, hm?" matt suggests, and you nod eagerly. he grins, picking you up by your hips with ease, and carrying you deeper into the water.

your legs wrap around his waist as the cold water touches your toes. "cold," you squeal, burying your face in his neck. "don't worry baby, you'll get used to it," matt reassures.

matt was right, after a few seconds, the water didn't feel as cold as it first did. you let him carry you behind a few rocks, hiding your two bodies from the eyes of the public. "so pretty angel," he whispers, setting you down, placing his hands on your cheeks as he peppers your lips with kisses.

you let him, giggling softly. your fingers played with the hairs on his neck. "you look so pretty in this," he whispers, kissing down to your neck and biting the spot between your neck and shoulder.

your hand came up to his head, gripping the hair on his head. he sucks a hickey onto your neck before moving down to your collarbones.

"so pretty for me, my pretty baby," he whispers against your skin, one of his hands dropping down to the bottom half of your bathing suit. "gonna make you feel good," matt mumbles, rubbing his middle and ring finger against the crotch of your bathing suit.

"mhm," you squeak, an arm wrapped around his neck for support. "you want that, pretty girl?" he asks, continuing to rub his fingers against you. "yes, please," you whimper, pushing your hips against his hand.

"my girl is so pretty and polite, such a good girl for me," he praises, slipping his fingers past the hem of your bottoms. he rubs his fingers up and down your folds, his fingers easily collecting the wetness.

"all this just from me?" he teases, and you nod, a small whimper leaving your lips. "so perfect, angel. gonna finger you now, okay?" he tells you, and you nod.

matt was the sweetest boy, always making sure you were comfortable before doing anything.

he slips a finger inside of you, his mouth going to suck marks into your neck that would definitely get questioned later by the boys. "more," you breathe, your nails digging into his shoulders.

his hand goes to cover your mouth and his nose nudges your ear before he's whispering. "quiet baby, can't let anyone know what we're doing," he shushes, adding another finger.

you moan against his hand, and he presses kisses against your jaw. his fingers pump in and out of you slowly, trying not to be rough.

his fingers curl and he presses against a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. your grip on his shoulder tightens and you press your hips down against his fingers, silently asking him to keep touching you there.

"you like that baby? like it when i touch that spot?" he asks, continuing to rub his fingers against it. you nod quickly, and his thumb circles your clit. your eyes slip closed and your head lolls forward, resting on his shoulder.

your orgasm creeps up on you, and you can't find yourself to warn matt. the pleasure becomes too much and you're letting out a strangled cry against his hand, and your thighs shaking.

he helps you ride out your high, slowing his movements and pressing kisses along your neck and jaw. "my good girl, you did so well," he coos, pulling his fingers from your heat and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"thank you," you mumble, your head still buried in the crook of his neck. "i love you," he mutters against your hair, and you can't help but grin. "i love you too, but if we don't leave this place soon, they'll come looking for us," you giggle.

tag list:

@hysteria-things @tillies33ssss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @sturniolossss @freshsturns @lily-strnlo @etvar12 @iloveurgf @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @chrryclouds @sturniolho

[msmk11]

Best Friend's Mom Part Two

MILF!Wanda Maximoff x college age!fem!reader (Billy and Tommy's best friend)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Word count: 5.6k

CW: Age gap (legal), best friends' mom, MILF!Wanda, fluff, consumption of alcohol, mentions of food, mentions of absent parent, hints of angst, light smut in the middle, full smut at the end

Summary: You and Wanda had just slept together. You had just slept with your best friends' mom. But what happens after? Will the best night of your life be a one-time thing?

A/n: GUYS. Thank you SO MUCH for all the love on part 1. I was so anxious to post it because I had never written for Wanda before, and I thought it was lowkey crap. But you guys have been so kind, and loving, and supportive, and it made my week. I was feeling a little bit of pressure to write this next part because part one did so well, but I'm happy with the finished product. I've also decided to have a part 3 and 4 to finish up this story because I want it to span the whole week of reader's spring break. I hope that you all enjoy it and if you want to be added to the tag list for this series just lmk.

Seriously all my love, MK <3

There is something hot blowing on your neck when you first wake up, and your sleepy brain is a little more than confused. Through your bleary eyes you look for the source, and that’s when everything from the night before comes rushing back.

Wanda.

You and Wanda.

Sleeping together.

Not only are you currently sharing a bed with your two best friends’ mom, you slept with her.

What makes it worse? It was fucking amazing. And you want do it again.

You know you’re going to hell. You’d just crossed so many boundaries, and you aren’t sure Billy and Tommy will ever forgive you if they find out.

When they find out.

“Detka,”

Your racing thoughts, and also heart, comes to a halt at the soft whisper of Wanda’s own personal nickname for you- one that sounded so different less than 12 hours ago as you made her hoarse with pleasure.

Cautiously, you roll on your side to meet Wanda face-to-face. Even in the morning she looks so incredibly beautiful, with her red waves sprawled out on her pillow, her green eyes soft and warm, and her pink lips just a little swollen from the night before.

“What’s that pretty little mind of yours thinking about so early,” she asks quietly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You lean into her touch and close your eyes, “You. Us. Last night.”

Her hand pulls away and you open your eyes, “Do you regret it, Detka?”

“No Wanda, of course not. I don’t. It’s just, this-“

“Makes things complicated?”

You sigh and nod. You chew on your lip anxiously as all the racing thoughts come back.

“Honey, stop,” Wanda says, placing her thumb on your bottom lip, “you’ll hurt yourself.”

She pulls you into her arms and places the softest, sweetest kiss against your lips. You melt into her embrace and decide to ignore all your problems for just a little longer. Anyways, how could anything really be wrong when Wanda holds you as if nothing could hurt you?

“We’ll figure it all out in time, baby. But for now, just lay with me for a while, yeah?”

You press a gentle kiss to her neck, an action that speaks far louder than any words, and snuggle closer into her. With her fingers running gently through your hair, and the rhythmic sound of her heartbeat against your ear, you are lulled back into a dreamless sleep.

When you wake up a little while later, the spot next to you is cold, and you know that at some point Wanda slipped out while you were sleeping to avoid suspicion. You know she did the right thing, and that it’s for the best, but the secrecy of it all is just a little painful.

You shrug it off, however, and crawl out of bed. Until you can assess the state of your skin- Wanda’s mouth had been all over- you throw on sweats and a hoodie. As you traipse down the hall you’re met with the smell of pancakes and quiet chatter. Before you step into the kitchen, you admire the pretty picture before you- Wanda sat between her two boys at the table as they all eat pancakes and reminisce about the past. You almost feel bad ruining it.

Almost.

But your hunger wins out.

“She finally decides to join us,” Tommy teases as you step into the kitchen.

You stick your tongue out at him as you sit down to his right and begin to pile pancakes onto your plate.

“I was starting to worry that you were dead,” Billy adds, and you roll your eyes.

“I must’ve just been worn out,” you reply, briefly glancing at Wanda before looking down and shoveling food into your mouth.

“Did you not sleep okay, honey?”

You look up at Wanda again and notice a glint of mischief in her green eyes, “Just always a little restless sleeping in a new bed, but I fell asleep eventually.”

“You just let me know if I can do anything to help,” she says sweetly. And then, she winks.

You choke on your pancake a little and Tommy starts patting your back. When you finally get a little air back in your lungs you cough out, “okay, thanks, Wanda.”

She’s gonna be the death of you.

*****

The boys decide that the four of you will head into the beach town today to look around the shops and restaurants. You’re more than grateful for this, especially with the alternative being that you’d have to see Wanda in a bikini yet again.

You’re dressed simple in cutoff blue jeans and a plain white tank top, and you’ve tucked your hair under a white baseball cap. Wanda, it seems, is still trying to tease you, wearing the cutest flowy, white skirt with a maroon tank top. It’s maddening and you almost scoff at her audacity. If her boys weren’t with you, you’d probably drag her off to a bathroom right now and take her right then and there. Alas, they are, and so you have to practice self-control. It’s still easier than maintaining self-control around her in a swimsuit, so you feel grateful to walk around with your friends and fawn over little trinkets you absolutely do not need. You plan to do your very best to forget that Wanda’s even there, but she has other plans.

Wanda’s hands are all. over. you. all. day.

Mind you, all of her touches are subtle enough that Billy and Tommy would never suspect a thing. But they’re not subtle to you. You feel every touch tenfold, and it leaves you a little dazed after each interaction.

When you get to the first shop, a mini boutique, Billy, ever the gentleman, holds the door open for you and Wanda. The redhead doesn’t just motion for you to go inside first. No. Instead, she places her hand on the small of your back and guides you into the store, letting her hand linger a little near your ass until Billy and Tommy step inside.

At the book store, you find a copy of the romance novel you’ve been dying to read but couldn’t find anywhere. Unfortunately, it’s up on a high shelf that you can’t quite reach. Just as you turn to look for one of the twins, Wanda saddles up behind you touching your shoulder, “I got it, honey.”

She uses you as a balance as she stands on her tip toes and grabs you the book. It’s in your trembling hands the next moment and then she’s disappeared to another aisle.

The local thrift store in town is packed full of clutter. Realistically, only one person can walk down a row at a time because of how narrow they are. Wanda, of course, ignores this unsaid rule entirely, at least when it comes to you. As you sift through the racks upon racks of clothes, Wanda wonders over and begins to make small talk about your thrift finds. Then, without warning she says, “excuse me, honey,” and grabs your waist, shifting you so that she can pass by. Her tits rub up against your back when she does it, and you shiver.

The four of you have lunch at a cute cafe, and sit at a circle table on the outdoor patio. Unsurprisingly, you end up sitting next to Wanda, and her hand magically finds its way to your thigh. You desperately try to keep your cool throughout lunch and hope that your face isn’t too flushed. Near the end of the meal, her hand begins moving up and down your thigh, creeping a little closer to where you want her. You cough and stand abruptly, getting startled looks from your friends.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick.”

You rush inside and splash water on your face.

Throughout the day, even when Wanda isn’t touching you, she somehow always manages to drive you crazy. At the tourist shop, Wanda decides to try on a sweatshirt. When she’s taking it off, her shirt rides up a little and you see a little patch of her soft, beautiful skin. When you grab a treat from the ice cream shop, you nearly lose your mind as she licks whipped cream off her fingertip to “sample it.”

Wanda’s teasing is nonstop and relentless all afternoon. By the time you get back for dinner you’re a complete and utter mess. But you’re not guaranteed any relief because Billy and Tommy drag you away to swim. Even though you shoot Wanda a desperate glance, she only winks and gets back to cooking.

*****

The evening had been spent by the pool, getting out occasionally to eat a little, and then jumping back in. You competed in races with Tommy, dove for pool sticks, and convinced Wanda to join you three for Marco Polo. As night settles in, the air cools down and the pool becomes much too chilly to bear. Not wanting to go inside just yet, you move to the hot tub. As you sink into the bubbling, hot water you sigh loudly. Your tense muscles ease and you begin to regain some feeling in your chilled fingers and toes.

You rest your head against the edge of the tub as you call out goodnight to Billy and Tommy. Wanda goes in with them, taking the dishes to the kitchen, and you have to admit that you’re a little disappointed she doesn’t stay outside.

The door shuts with a resounding thud, and you are left alone with your thoughts. It’s quiet, and the only thing you can hear are the crickets chirping and the bubbling water in which you sit. You’re blanketed in darkness, even the moon asleep for the night, save for the stars that sprinkle the navy sky.

The peaceful evening soothes you, and you close your eyes. You hear the wooden door open and close again, and soft, padded footsteps across the deck. You’re too scared to open your eyes and see who it is- for fear of disappointment. This time, you’re not disappointed.

Eyes still closed, you feel soft lips capture yours and you gasp softly. When Wanda pulls away your eyes flutter open and you find hers staring back at you fondly. She hasn’t yet joined you in the hot tub, but is rather standing at its edge, leaning over to kiss you from upside down.

You smile softly at her, “Hey, Wanda.”

“Hi Detka. I missed you,” she whispers against your lips.

“You were with me all day.”

“Not in the way that I wanted to be.”

“Well you sure got your fair share of teasing in,” you fake scold, “did that satisfy you enough?”

She slowly shakes her and rasps, “no.”

“We’ll have to fix that then.”

Wanda walks around the hot tub to the stairs and wades into the water. She slowly, tantalizingly, makes her way towards you. You sigh out her name impatiently and then finally, finally, your lips connect. You grab her waist gently and pull her closer to you.

Wanda’s hands find a home in your hair as she tugs on it a little and you moan.

“God, I’ve been dying to touch you all day,” she murmurs.

“I could tell,” you pant, “such a fucking tease, grabbing my hips, touching my shoulders, rubbing my thigh. It’s too bad Billy and Tommy were there, or I would’ve had my way with you.”

“Not very nice to say about your best friends.”

“Hard to care about them when you’re in front of me,” you admit, “all beautiful, and interesting, and alluring.”

You press a final kiss to her lips and then pull away, kissing her cheek, then her jaw, then behind her ear, her neck, her collarbone, and then right between her tits.

You keep your mouth there, hoping to leave a mark behind that will be just out of sight when she wears a tank top or a revealing dress. She grabs your head and pushes it forward, burying it deeper in her chest. Her soft moans and sighs make you grip her waist harder, and you pull her onto your lap where you’re sitting in the hot tub. When you nip slightly at her skin she whimpers and you moan against her.

“You sound so pretty Wanda,” you tell her, voice muffled.

You place kisses back up her chest as your hands move downwards to squeeze her ass. She squeals a little and you press another kiss to her lips to silence her.

“Wanna see you, baby,” Wanda tells you.

Her hands creep around your back and slowly untie your swimsuit. Your top falls away revealing your tits to her. It’s too dark for her to see much, but she still whispers, “so beautiful, Detka.”

She leans forward and presses a kiss to each before reaching out and groping them. You throw your head back and sigh. It’s a relief, finally having her hands on you again after all the teasing. She slowly massages each of your tits and you pant, gripping her waist so tightly you’re surprised she hasn’t yelped in pain. When her thumb runs over your sensitive nipples, your hips buck up into hers.

“Wanda, I-“

“I know, baby.”

Just as she is leaning down to take you into her mouth the door to the house squeals open. You jump apart, a string of curses leaving your mouth as you cover yourself and sink lower into the water.

Tommy peaks his head out, “Guys, come watch a movie with us. We’ve got it queued up.”

You quietly groan.

Thankfully, Wanda responds for you both.

“Okay, moya lubov. We’ll dry off and be in.”

Tommy closes the door, and you groan much louder now, letting your head fall back against the hot tub in defeat.

Wanda chuckles lowly, “we’ll finish this another time, baby. Promise.”

You sigh and nod.

“Here, let me help you put this back on,” Wanda says kindly, picking up your discarded top.

You turn away from Wanda, and she wraps it back around you. She breathes on your neck as she ties it back in place, and her fingers just ghost over your back. You hold your breath, savoring every moment.

When she’s done, she places a kiss to your neck and pats your ass, “there, all done. Now let’s go watch this movie.”

*******

The rest of your evening had been 2 hours and 12 minutes of torture, and then bedtime. You’d sat in an armchair cuddled up to Tommy while Billy and Wanda had laid on the couch together. You don’t recall a single second of the movie because you had been too busy watching Wanda the whole time.

You adored the way her nose crinkled when she laughed, how her frown during sad scenes was a little crooked, and the way her brows furrowed together when a character was being particularly ridiculous. No matter what face she was making, she was beautiful. And you couldn’t understand how anyone could have been interested in watching a movie when the picture of grace herself had sat before you.

It was mind-numbing, the way Wanda seemed to consume every waking and sleeping second of your mind. There was nothing you could do to ease her from your thoughts, and she was so clearly not keen on helping you out either. You desperately wondered if you’d ever get another moment alone before you headed back to college in four days. If you didn’t, you weren’t sure what you’d do.

Was death by longing even a thing?

Your bed had been cold that night, and you weren’t sure how you’d ever slept without Wanda by your side. Her warmth eased your tense body, her arms kept you safe, her tender kisses reminded you you were alive, and her sweet words whispered into your ears filled your heart to the brim. You knew you were totally fucked, but in a state of denial, you hoped that just one more good fuck would get it out of your system.

The next morning is calm and peaceful, the late night before having kept everyone confined to their beds until a much later hour. You opt out of breakfast and instead lay sprawl out on your bed, fan blowing cool air on you and the windows cracked to hear the waves. You decide to finally start the new book you got in town, and you cozy up in your comforter excitedly.

You open the paperback and crack the spine a little with a resounding pop. This and the smell of fresh pages sends a shiver up your spine and you kick your feet happily. Your eyes eagerly scan the first few pages as you take in the plot, setting and characters. You can feel yourself slowly sinking into the magical fictional world before you and you feel triumphant. Finally, finally, you’ve found something that distracts you from Wanda.

And it does. For a little while. But about twenty pages in a flash of red hair crosses your mind. You shake it off and read another page. Green eyes pierce your vision. You blink it away rapidly. Her perfume seems to waft into your nose, and you stuff your face into your shirt. You try to persevere, but when you realize that you’ve read the same line about ten times now and have yet to process it, you know it’s hopeless. You’re never one to treat a book unkindly, but you’re so frustrated that you toss it across the room and bury yourself under your covers.

Since your brain seems so keen on it, you let yourself indulge in a fictional scene of your own- one of domestic bliss between you and Wanda.

It’d be a hot summer day, just like this one, and you and Wanda would be at your shared cottage home in the countryside. The fan would be humming softly above you while birds and bugs chirped and buzzed through the screened back door. You and Wanda would be on your long, white couch with colorful throws, bare legs tangled. It’d be too hot be fully dressed, so you’d each just be in a pair of underwear and the other’s shirt. Maybe Wanda had made you two some ice-cold lemonade that you sipped on slowly as you casually drew patterns on her leg. Wanda, on the other end, would have a book propped open. She’d be reading it to you, in that soft, sweet voice that makes you melt. When you’d get lost in her eyes instead of listening to her read, she’d playfully scold you.

You could almost hear her now saying, “Detka, Detka. Are you paying attention?”

It’s when an arm touches your shoulder that you realize the real Wanda is actually before you, talking to you.

You jolt and inhale quickly, “huh? What? Sorry I was daydreaming.”

She chuckles and you notice that she’s sitting on the edge of your bed as she smoothes out the wrinkled corners, “I just came to tell you that we’re going out for a nice dinner tonight and that our reservation is at 6:00. Do you have something to wear?”

You do, luckily, and you thank past you for thinking ahead, “yes, I have a few options to choose from. What time should I be ready by?”

Wanda thinks for a moment, “5:00 probably. I want to get some pictures of everyone dressed up too before we head out. And you know how my boys are about photos, always so particular.”

You snort out an understanding giggle, recalling the many times you've taken ‘unsatisfactory’ photos for your friends, and then having to redo them all.

Wanda stands then and smiles sweetly at you, “well, that’s all I had to say, but I’ll leave you to your daydreaming now.”

And when she’s sure no one is coming down the hall, she presses a few hurried kisses to your lips and then leaves the room and you, yearning for more.

*****

You decide to doll yourself up extra nice for the occasion and try to convince yourself it’s all for you and not… others.

You’re wearing flowy blue pants made of a silky material and a white tank top with a scoop neck and wide straps. A dainty gold necklace sits prettily against your collarbone and one or two gold bands rest on your fingers. Strappy white sandals are your shoe of choice, and you make sure to paint your toes a blue color similar to your pants. You keep your makeup simple, only a few swipes of mascara and a quick brush of your brows.

You head out into the living room and whistle lowly, “what a group we are.”

Tommy and Billy have dressed up rather nicely. The former is wearing a nice, short sleeve white shirt and khaki pants. Billy has on a nice red polo and black slacks.

Instead of rustling the boys’ hair like you usually would, you pat their cheeks like a fond grandmother, “look at you two, my boys. All handsome and grown up.”

You wipe away a fake tear and they roll their eyes at you, exasperated.

“I’m just glad you were able to dress up nice,” Tommy retorts, “instead of your usual sewer rat look.”

You scoff, more than offended, and this time do go to ruffle his hair, “did your mother never teach you manners?”

“She taught us to respect those who earned it. You haven’t yet,” Billy deadpans.

You smack his arm rather hard, and you don’t miss the way he winces and rubs the sore spot a little.

“Would it really kill you to tell me I look nice?” you ask, hands on your hips.

Billy dramatically groans, “fine, fine. You look… nice.”

You look at Tommy with a raised eyebrow.

“You know you look beautiful,” he replies, “do I need to say it?”

You sit on the arm of the couch next to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders, “just feels nice to be appreciated sometimes.”

Tommy scoffs playfully, “as if we don’t spoil you rotten with attention.”

You wave him off dismissively and reach out to grab Billy’s hand, giving him a kind squeeze.

It’s in this warm embrace that Wanda finds you all when she emerges from her room. She looks absolutely breathtaking. Of course, she always does, but this. Wow.

Wanda has pulled her hair back into a slick bun and is wearing a slim-fitting, long green dress. It’s an emerald green that looks so nice against her pale skin, and the red lipstick on her lips makes them look even more kissable than usual. She has dangly silver earrings in, a chunky silver necklace, and a small chain bracelet for jewelry. You’re literally speechless, your mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“Well, how do I look?” She asks with a little spin.

Tommy stands and gives her a side hug, “beautiful as always, Mama.”

“The prettiest lady ever,” Billy agrees, joining his family on his mom’s other side. She presses tender kisses to the sides of each of their heads, a big beaming smile on her face.

“Honey, could you get a picture of us?” She asks you sweetly.

You simply nod, too dumb to talk, and take Tommy’s phone. They stand together, arms around each other, and they look like a perfect little family. Wanda is clearly so proud of her sons, and them so devoted and loving to their mother. It makes your heart ache, not only because of fondness but also regret.

Billy and Tommy have opened up to you about how hard it was for Wanda to put their lives and family back together after their dad left. And now, seeing them together, so happy and complete, you feel like an intruder. Out of place. And when you think about Wanda, you want her so badly. But you wonder if you want her enough to risk tearing down everything she’s worked so hard to build.

“There, that should be good,” you say quietly.

Wanda steps forward, “here let me get some pictures of you three.”

When she takes the phone from you, your fingers brush, and you jolt away a little. You try to play it off coolly and go stand in Wanda’s place between the two boys. You smile widely, your arms wrapped around each brother, but the ache is still a little present in your throat.

“Okay, I’ve got some,” the redhead tells you, “but I want a few with you too, honey,” she says, looking at you.

“But why, mom?” Billy asks.

“Well I have to document the best Chicken duo this world has ever seen,” she says with a teasing voice.

The boys groan simultaneously and roll their eyes.

“No need to rub it in, mom.”

She smirks a little as she goes to stand next to you.

“They’re just jealous,” she says, with a stage whisper.

And then, when they’re not paying attention, she actually whispers, “and stop worrying, Detka. Everything is going to be okay.”

“How did you-?”

She briefly glances at your lips and you realize that you’re chewing on them yet again. You stop immediately and she squeezes your side reassuringly. You face the camera and wrap your arm loosely around Wanda’s shoulders. This time, your smile is much more genuine.

*****

Dinner had been amazing. Red sauce pasta with a delightful layer of cheese, and rolls that seemed to be coming out as soon as a basket was emptied. You all had indulged in a little red wine too, and you felt perfectly relaxed and full. The night had been near perfect. But something was missing. Dessert.

You don’t have to go looking far, because it presents itself in the form of Wanda Maximoff, sitting there at dinner looking so delectable in her emerald green dress, teasing you with her sneaky looks and seductive red lips. It feels like ages since you’d last really touched Wanda, and you don’t think you can hold off much longer. You hope your eyes tell her so as the four of you sit around the living room coffee table playing various card games. Eventually, you feign a yawn, and proclaim that you are calling it a night- wine always making you a little sleepy.

But that couldn’t be further from the truth. You are wide awake and alert. You waltz off down the hall, but you don’t go into your room. Instead, you take a turn into Wanda’s and quickly shut the door behind you. You wait for her on the soft, bouncy mattress.

It seems as if you’re waiting for Wanda for ages. But you suppose impatience on your end and her need to prevent suspicion only makes it seem so. Finally, you hear the faint creak of the floorboards coming closer and closer to the door. It cracks open and there she is in all her glory. She shuts it softly behind her and you both share a giddy smile like scheming little kids. She uses the door handle as a balance as she slips her heels off and tosses them to the side. Then, she reaches to her hair and pulls out all the clips and hair ties holding the bun together, and her long red waves cascade down her shoulders mesmerizingly. She slowly slinks towards you, drawing you in with her seductress powers. She slots herself between your legs at the edge of the bed and bends down to kiss you deeply.

You inhale sharply against her lips and hold her jaw with your hand. After a few deep kisses she breaks away and whispers, “take that shirt off for me pretty girl. I want to see you.”

To her surprise, and maybe even a little to yours, you say, “no.”

She raises her eyebrows in shock and then they furrow into worry, “do you not want this? I’m sorry if I misread the room I-“

You place a finger to her lips gently, “No, Wanda. You didn’t read anything wrong. I do want this. I want you. But I don’t want you to do anything. I just wanna take care of you. Is that okay? A woman like you should be worshiped.”

Her features soften into what you’d almost coin adoration, but you don’t get your hopes up.

She moves around the side of the bed and lays down up against her pillows, “okay baby, you take charge. Do whatever you want.”

You groan at how soft, and vulnerable, and open she is to you.

God, there are so many things you want to do to Wanda right about now. But what you need most is to taste her. You crawl up to Wanda and place yourself between her legs. You place your hands gently on the back of her neck and lean in for a tender kiss. It’s slow and deep and Wanda just sighs softly. Her hands find a home on your back as you continue to kiss her, slowly adding in tongue. As your hands begin to travel from her neck and down to her sides, just barely grazing her breasts, the kisses get a little more passionate and your breathing heavier. Like last night, you begin to trail kisses down her body. But this time, you don’t stop at her chest. You keep going, pressing kisses to her clothed stomach. When you get to her legs, you teasingly slide your hands up under her dress, fingers dancing around her ankles.

“I need you higher,” she rasps, and you smirk smugly just a little.

“Anything for you, gorgeous.”

You slowly push the hem of her soft, green dress upwards, revealing more and more skin as you go. You push it all the way up, letting the dress pool around her waist. You start at her ankles again, this time pressing soft kisses up her legs until your hot breath is on her thighs. She nearly whines at you being so close to touching her, and you giggle, “be patient, sweetheart. I’m almost there.”

And then with one or two more gentle kisses to her inner thighs, you place the softest, teasing kiss on her clothed center. That alone causes Wanda to moan, her hips bucking up into your face a little.

“Detka, please,” she sighs.

You grab the top of her underwear and pull it down her legs, tossing it across the room somewhere.

“Such a beautiful pussy, Wanda,” you sigh.

You lean forward and press another kiss to her, this time, bare cunt. You know she likes it because her legs squeeze your head encouragingly. You lick one strip up the middle and she moans so prettily you squeeze your own legs together. After you’ve gotten one taste, you’re ravenous. You immediately dive in headfirst, licking and sucking at her soft, pink pussy.

She continuously lets out sighs and moans of your name, honey, or Detka. You hold onto her thighs as you continue to eat her out and squeeze them gently, letting her know how good she’s doing. You can tell when Wanda starts to get close because she only gets wetter and wetter. She reaches down and grabs your hair roughly, shoving your face further into her pussy. She lets out a whine and her back arches, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“F-feels so g-good,” she stutters out.

You hum against her and you know it feels good because she lets out yet another moan. To get Wanda to her orgasm, you decide to double the stimulation. Your face moves downwards, sending your tongue in and out of her wet hole. Then, you add a finger to the mix, rubbing small tight circles on her clit quickly. Her back arches again at the newfound pleasure, and the grip she has on your hair is almost painful. But you don’t stop. You continue to thrust in and out while pinching and rubbing her clit. Her moans are so consistent and fairly loud that you’re a little worried her boys will hear. But you’re so lost in her pussy, and she in her pleasure, that you don’t care. With one final hard thrust of your tongue, Wanda plummets over the edge. Her thighs squeeze tightly around your head and your hair is wrapped around her fingers in a coil. Her back arches off the bed significantly and her body shakes in waves of pleasure. The pretty little whines and moans she lets out as she comes makes you want to instantly go for round two. But you don’t, letting her come back down from her high. When she does, she looks a little dazed.

“Well?” You ask slyly.

“Detka,” she sighs, and then she pulls you upward by the shirt and passionately kisses you. When she tastes herself on your lips, she moans again.

You and Wanda are all over each other for quite awhile, and you’re both left feeling pretty fucked out and spacey. Everything with her felt and feels so good. And you know you’re ruined for anyone else. You lay on her bare chest, legs intertwined, and she strokes your back softly. Your eyes flutter shut at her featherlight touches and you’re sure you could fall asleep right then and there. Paired with her slow, quiet breathing, you are in bliss.

“You’re so perfect and beautiful, Detka,” she whispers into your ear.

It tickles and you shiver a little. You place an affirming kiss on her bare chest and snuggle in closer to her side. And as she holds you, as you begin to fall asleep in her arms yet again, you know for sure now that you are fucked. You know then that you are not just attracted to Wanda. You have feelings for her. And the once pleasurable, fluttering butterflies in your stomach are replaced by a big, solid rock.

______________________________________________________________

tag list: @xenaizogie @alexawynters @eclipse727 @idkwhatever580 @opp-jumpscare @starynn @alessiaswifey @noturlondonboy

[suguru-getos]

soft yandere satoru hcs:

a/n: hey, you guys should know i ship myself with him so there's no way i'd tolerate insane yandere satoru without ki!ling myself :P soooo- here's me making him a soft yan ^^

warnings: yandere behavior, mentions of arranged marriage troupe, stalkingtroupe, angry!sato ofc but he is still normal about it. mentions of fluff because it's satoru duh <33 also, this is one of the softest yandere hcs i've ever written *giggles*

yandere!satoru who saw you the first time in a jujutsu clan party hosted by your parents and how insignificant you truly were. to yourself, you had the best parents ever, they didn't push you into becoming a sorcerer, but to the kamo, zenin, and gojo clan members it was pure bullshit. wastage of proper sorcerer blood.

until yandere satoru met you for the first time and you hung out, the way he conversed was so different from someone who should be the strongest, someone who wields the highest powers in the whole world. someone who's birth shook the shackles of this world alone. he was kind, he sat next to you, non-judgemental even so he was weirdly wearing that damned blindfold.

he talked to you about your life, and about his own. pointing out the subtle and the not so subtle differences between the both of you. asking if you had a boyfriend. it was so subtle how could you think he had any other intention but to be your friend? naive and stupid.

things escalated real quickly when your mother told you that you were supposed to marry satoru gojo, oh my god- the clan head of the gojo clan, the ever so spoiled, esteemed entitled brat. you really couldn't say anything about this, but to hold your guns you decided to contact him. "you knew that this was happening?" you mumbled, watching him stir the coffee in front of you lazily. "of course, gosh you are so lucky little one!" he snickered, though the way he looks at you, it's hard to process what he's truly feeling inside. you are unaware of his stalking, how he knows your colleagues, how they are what they do, what they eat, how they breathe, to whom you are closer to, who likes you- what time do you get up, eat, what snack do you like, ghana roasted coffees over normal ones. though he would not admit to it.

there are a few times he has watched you sleep like a creep, just sitting next to you, just feeling the innate feeling of sharing the same bed as you. how cute you are, he often mumbles to himself. "i could crush you without even trying" as a musing criteria for how naive you are, how cute you are and how absolutely adorable you are. creepy-

to pretend that he is more than willing to let you take things your own way, he lets you plan dates. cute, adorable dates. one of the days you would be doing pottery with him, the other time it's an aquarium date where satoru doesn't know why you're so mesmerised when the real awe is you, the other time it was a planeterium and that's when satoru shows you his abilities for the first time, holding you closer to him like the princess you are and walking on sky, as if it's nothing, amid the full moon night. the other time it's you and him making tiaras in a garden, sometimes he would just randomly pull you closer, kissing your cheek while languishing in a movie together. so cute, so astonishingly cute! maybe marrying him is not a bad idea???

things show you their true form when you were on a date in a high-end restaurant, roof-top and fully booked. he's always been so cute with you, you had opened up and been comfortable enough. until a waiter decided to hit on you, before long- you found him choking on his own blood, despicable sight of him oozing out blood from his eyes, coughing and dying in front of you. "wh- what was that?" when you glance at satoru, he is emphasising the same lazy grin, smirking. "what. go on? smile back!" he muses, and when you're a teary-eyed mess, he presents himself with a carefully painted visage of guilt. "oh no no- baby i'm so sorry- i lost it, you make me lose it! i love you so much please no!"

would not let you have personal space after, forcing your parents to hasten the whole marriage thingy, he thinks you would leave him and that has him acting out of character. though he now knows fear is a powerful tool, even though he does not want to use it on his darling. sometimes he can't help it, especially when you act so fucking adamant and so fucking stubborn!!

"listen, princess, here's what's going to happen. daddy's going to be really cooperative if you come here and give him a hug, daddy does not want to be a meanie to his little girl. you know that right?" by being a 'meanie' he just means getting angry, manhandling you against the wall, seething in rage and bubbling hot with the insecurity of your behavior being the slightest of different.

the thing is satoru really, really loves you. the prospect of being a yandere is more 'dere' in him. however when the yandere shows? that's when you should truly fear the capabilities of this man. satoru hates this but he can sometimes use your triggers against you. don't like being tied up, maybe an empty threat would get you in line, after all, you refuse to listen when he wants to love you!

he's going to make sure your engagement ring has a location curse imbued into it, he wants to know 24x7 where his baby is. one time you lied to him that you are at work when you were actually in a colleague's party, you were greeted by the whole party avenue being destroyed to shreds, people bruised and only you knew it was your now husband, because he texted. 'infinity protects you princess, not others. next time think twice about lying to daddy.'

his behavior can get hot and cold instantly, one moment he is the most adorable man-child, loving you, playing with you... until he's ticked off and the real, no-nonsense monster comes out to meet you. a scathing frown with glowy eyes as he reminds you that you belong to the 'strongest'.

there are times he does use sex as a weapon, a weapon to make you give in. he is just so good at it, he is going to spoil you senseless, kissing every square inch of your body, worshipping you, crying with you when he mumbles apologies for being angry and mean at you, for scaring you, you don't deserve it, such a pretty baby, oh you take him so well. he was made for you, you are the strongest because you have him wrapped around your pinkie... only to show you the rage and insecurity and all of it when you come home late.

the only positivity you have, is he would rather kill himself than hurt you. that brings you peace, that brings a sense of stability and sensibility into you to hang onto the rope of your relationship a bit longer, clutching onto the fleeting hope of him changing...

[sdr2lovemail]

Could you write something about Sun and Moon being irritated/jealous that they can't kiss the reader (the maintenance worker one) with their mouths like a human can so the reader shows them about all the other ways to kiss? Like kissing Sun's hand up his arm to his cheek until he is giggling so loudly Vanessa thinks he's gone off his rocker, or gently kissing Moon's forehead all the way down to where his heart would be? Even better if the maintenance reader leaves behind little lipstick marks on their face for Monty and the gang to laugh about :D

Inspired by that one tumblr post about a guy walking out with a few lipstick kiss marks and then saying "you should see what they did to the other guy" in a stereotypical mobster voice before said other guy drunkenly walks out absolutely covered in lipstick marks, sfw of course I want Fluff I want Affection I want Lovey Dovey-ness if you think you could swing it, just the softest silliest thing you can write, and keep up the good work anywho :')

I have no mouth, and I must kiss. (GN Reader but they do wear lipstick) Synopsis: After a play full of heartbreak and tragedy, Sun realizes that he'll never be able to kiss you. You remedy the situation.

Notes: It's been almost 2 years since I've written a fnaf fic, I feel rusty. Help wanted 2 got me calling my old mans' numbers. That's a joke they never left my phone. Anon if you're still out there, I hope you enjoy the fruits of my labors.

Requests are open!

Children are very persuasive. While you originally came to the daycare to fix a broken screen, you’ve ended up in a play. Decked out with a foam sword, you act as the story’s brave knight. Once you’ve slain the dragon, a kid wearing a Monty hood, your princess awaits.

“My dear knight! You saved me from the evil dragon!” Sun swoons. Instead of his waist frills, he’s worn a bright yellow skirt. Dangling from a few of his rays was a princess cap. The bells on his wrist jingle as he clasps his hands. “Is there any way I can repay you?”

You press a hand against your heart and bow your head. “There is no need, Princess. Protecting you is my sworn duty.” You’d say your acting wasn’t half bad for an underpaid maintenance worker.

“The princess has to kiss the knight!” A kid called from the audience.

Sun felt rigid like his joints were locking up. He hoped you couldn’t hear his fans kicking on as his body temperature rose. He would love to kiss you but wanted the moment to be perfect. “N-now friend, we don-”

“Mr. Sun can’t kiss them! He doesn’t have a mouth!” Another kid argued. Something about what they said made Sun feel weird.

“Yes, he does! It just can’t open.” 

Sun lets out a huff, turning to you. “They’re getting cranky. It must be snack time. I’ll pass them out quickly. That way, we can spend time together!” He bounced on the balls of his feet, eager for you to stick around.

Your fazwatch pings with an alert: a S.T.A.F.F. bot got stuck in Monty Golf. “Oh, sorry, Sun. I have another job to do. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Sun would be frowning if his faceplate could move. He quickly perks up and sets his hands on your shoulders. “Right! Right, right, right, you have a job. Responsibilities! I’ll- I’ll see you at closing. Buh-bye, friend!” The jester waves you goodbye before sighing, hurrying to pass out snacks before someone throws a tantrum.

The rest of your day goes as smoothly as working as the Pizza Plex could be. It was after closing time, and you were doing your final tasks. The glamrocks were in their rooms, the S.T.A.F.F bots were on their set paths, and nothing on the floor needed fixing. The last place you needed to check on was the daycare. 

Walking through the big wooden doors, Sun is nowhere to be seen. You call his name, followed by Moon’s, but still nothing. Shrugging it off, you make your rounds, checking everything is in place. During the sweep, you could hear muffled words from a storage closet.

“Do you think they’ve kissed anyone, Moon? We can’t do that…” That was the unmistakable voice of Sun. “I wonder what it would be like. Hmph, even the glamrocks can move their mouths…” He grumbles.

When you open the door, Sun jumps like he’s been shocked. He scrambled to stand up. “Ah! Oh, hi! You’re here early!”

“It’s almost eleven. I’ve been here for almost thirty minutes.” You say, checking your watch. “What were you talking about?”

“Would you believe me if I said nothing?” The daycare attendant tilts his head, his faceplate spinning a bit.

“No, I would not.”

Sun sighs as he sits back on the closet floor, his legs crisscrossed and his hands holding his face. Taking a seat next to him, you ask him what’s wrong.

“I was just thinking about some stuff after our play. Moon and I can’t kiss you!” He flops over dramatically as if he’d heard tragic news. “Our face is stuck in this stupid smile!” He tugs on one of his rays, angry at his lack of facial mobility.

“Hey, I don’t mind that you guys can’t kiss me. There’s more to a relationship than that. Besides, there are other ways to kiss.”

This breaks him out of his kissless stupor. “There are? Tell me, tell me!” Sun practically shakes where he sits. “Better yet, show me!” He opens his arms wide, inviting you to do as you please.

Taking one of his large hands in your own, you place a kiss on the back of his hand, leaving a lipstick mark on the shiny plastic. While he didn’t have pupils, you could feel Sun’s eyes burning into you. He didn’t want to miss a single second!

The touch sensors in his arms and hands weren’t that sensitive. Kids sure did like to scratch, kick, and bite. But even so, he could still feel your lips pressing fluttering kisses to his casing. Laughter bubbled up in his voice box. 

Kiss after kiss lined Sun’s arm. Even if it left stains, this is one mess he could let slide. You took his other arm in your hands, mimicking your previous affections. Kissing back up his arms, you reach his faceplate. Sun’s giggling gets louder as your lips kiss the hard surface of his cheeks.

“Hey, your shift’s almost over. Get ready to clock out.” Vanessa’s voice rings from your watch. 

When you pull away to answer, Sun tries to follow your lips. “Alright, I’ll be at the office in a moment.” Sun lets out another round of laughter.

“Oh, you’re with him… Your pay gets docked when you stay overtime, you know. Make sure to leave before the shutters close.” With that last sentence, Vanessa cuts off her line.

With excited, shaking hands, Sun brings your face closer to his. “Keep kissing me! Please, please, please!” His begging is cut short as he listens to Moon say something. “Awww, but I’m not done!” Sun still gets up to turn the lights off, moping the whole way there.

Bright red optics suddenly appear in front of your eyes. The lights glow against your skin. Moon clicks a flashlight on, making his faceplate look more menacing than he probably intended. “You weren’t thinking about leaving, were you? Not when you haven’t given me the same attention Sun got, right?” 

“Oh, of course not, Moon!” Cupping his face in your hands, you leave a kiss mark on his forehead.

You bring your trail of kisses down to his nose, trailing along the curve, up to the corner of his eye. Moon lets out that raspy laugh of his. He tugs you closer, craving the warmth of your skin against the cold of his plastic.

He watched as you kissed down his face and neared his chest. “Sun was whining all day, worrying over us not being able to kiss you.” Moon snickered. “He was fretting over nothing, as usual. But I must admit, he’s right about some things.” 

His ‘breath’ hitched as he watched you kiss right where his heart would be. The fans in his chest cavity kicked into overdrive as they tried to cool his circuits, trying their best not to overheat. “Kissing you would be a dream.” 

Letting out a laugh of your own, you press another soft kiss on Moon’s chest. “I guess I’ll have to do the kissing for all three of us.” Punctuating your sappy sentence, you kiss their sculpted-on smile. An audible puff of air leaves the daycare attendant’s chassis.

 “Attention Pizza Plex Guests and Staff. The Pizza Plex’s doors will close in ten minutes.” An automated voice rang over the building’s speakers.

More alert than before, you get up from the closet door. “I gotta go!” You were not trying to spend the night here. “Bye, Moon. Bye, Sun. I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t forget to wash that lipstick off!”

They weren’t really listening, absolutely high on kisses. For a few hours, they simply rest in the daycare’s storage closet, gushing to each other about you. Well, more Sun than Moon.

Once it was time for Moon to do his rounds around the Pizza Plex, he’d forgotten about the lipstick covering his exoskeleton. It wasn’t until Monty knocked on the glass of his room.

“You having a good night, Moon?” It was like the smirk in Monty’s voice was audible from his voicebox. “Seems like you had a lot of fun.”

Seeing his reflection in the glass, Moon lets out a growl. How could he forget to wash off all this lipstick? “Not a word of this to anyone.” Moon scratched his fingers down the window, leaving marks behind. He turns tail to head back to the daycare and wash the stains off of himself.

Unknowing to the lunar animatronic, Monty had already sent a message to all the other bots.

[captainjamster]

Hey if you're comfortable with it, do you think you write about how 141 would react to finding out you're ticklish? Preferably nsfw. Maybe they just tease you with it or maybe they have a session with you after a while and enjoy how it drives you crazy. It could be poly141 or just a drabble with each members reaction.

I love your writing sm

I'm sorry this took a while anon, thank you so much for your request!! This is the first time I've written about tickling, so I hope it came out alright. I loved researching this lmfao it's so cute

Pairing(s): 141 x reader (separately, not poly or sharing this time sorry! :p) Warnings: Bondage and restraint, tickling, tickling during sex Wordcount: 1.2k Summary: How each of the boys enjoy tickling you :p AO3 Link: Right here! <3

Full drabbles under cut <3

Price loves your laugh; just the sound can get him hard. Maybe you should’ve seen it coming from the first date. It was the first thing he complimented you on in the small bakery – heart eyes over the brim of his coffee cup that had your cheeks red, already breathless at the story between a cheeky sounding sergeant and someone’s poor dog. He stores every terrible joke exchanged amongst his boys, bringing them home just to fill your ears with them, to get anything from that exasperated little giggle to a shocked cackle at some of Ghost’s darker ones – the first time he hears you belly laugh, he writes the beginning of his wedding vowels.

For him, there’s a privilege in being allowed to bring you to such a vulnerable state, dazed and breathless, whether it’s scrabbling against the material of his shirt as you’re bent over in hysterics, hiding behind your hands, gasping for air at the comedy he’s been nagging you to watch, or between his thighs against the mattress, straining with hiccupped shrieks and pleads at his weight as he tortures your overstimulated skin. The only thing he uses is his fingers, and he’s stubborn about it, possessive of the tactile connection between his fingertips against your skin. The furthest he goes is a plug in your pussy, with a command to try and keep it there at the threat of a good spanking (though you both know you’re going to fail).

He challenges himself to make you come with just tickling – he neglects your needy pussy, wet and fluttering with arousal, until the delicate dragging of his nails down the plush insides of your thigh has you spasming around nothing.

-

Gaz, poor Gaz. Gaz, with blood under his nails he just can’t scrub, who sees someone’s face with every punch he throws at the bag. He’s heard the way his peers talk all throughout his service – spank their ass, slap their face, tight grip to the throat, till they ache.

There was only one part that ever stuck with him – till they ache.

The only time he raises a hand against you is to watch you squeal in anticipation before it flies down to your stomach, skittering up and down the soft skin as you twist and writhe against the sheets. It’s everything he needs – he can make you cry, beg, scream, with the whisp of a few touches, the softest of caresses. Tracing the marks that scatter your skin, only love bites and the imprints of restraint. On some nights, Gaz loves tying you up and tickling you, watching you squirm and contort against his ropes in an attempt to escape. The knots dip into your flesh, keeping your arms straight and pointed to the metal hook that meets the rope stemming from your wrists, legs spread wide with the thick bar anchoring your feet flat to the ground. His fingers dance over every inch of skin bare to him, honing to the areas you try to pull away from, watching you sway this and that way in peals of laughter as he switches between sides on your ribs.

Unlike Price, he doesn’t care for games – he’ll give you what you want. A toy, his fingers, his cock. Slow and steady, letting the rope drop a little to bend you at the waist, rocking back and forward into him, clenching down those slick and warm walls in sync with each ragged laugh. He doesn’t mind wielding a tickle wand, dragging the feathers up and down your thighs, your armpits, behind your knees. It’s not over until your eyes are puffy, cheeks tear stained as you sag under your own weight, kept suspended by the rope as your knees shake.

-

Soap becomes aware of your ticklish nature very quickly, being such a tactile partner. He’s always touching you – whether it’s an arm around your waist, foot rubbing against your calf, pinkies linked together – and it isn’t long before he unintentionally makes you squeal, accidentally brushing up against one of your most sensitive areas. The noise makes him jump, worried he’s hurt you, but when he sees the red of your cheeks and the shy smile on your face? Oh, it’s over for you.

“Y’ticklish, bonnie?”

He’s all a-grin every time, hands raising menacingly with wiggling fingers.

For a while it stays non-sexual, but poor Johnny can’t help himself. The tickle fights start to linger way past what’s appropriate, making home in his mind – how you get so panicked and squirmy, trying to get away from his fingers, your breathless laugh and gasps as his name whines so desperately from your lips. Your squeals rings through his ears during overdue paperwork in his late nights, so clear that he swears your lips brush across the tips of his ears, and Price avoids looking at him too closely as he turns in the files before leaving.

Sly, smart Johnny starts off slow. When the mood is playful during sex, he purposely rubs his hair and beard up against your neck, your back, feeling you pulse erratically around him with each giggle. He introduces it in increments, a foot in the door as you warm to the idea. Things really get going when he confesses, head buried in the crook of your neck as he groans how the way you flutter around his cock with each giggle brings him so close, and you can't help but laugh at that too. Poor Johnny comes harder than he ever has, and you can't help but want to indulge the glassy, lovestruck expression on his handsome face.

Unlike Gaz, he’d never restrain you - Johnny loves fighting you to stay still, caging you in or dragging you back by the ankle into his reach.

-

For Ghost, he loves the chase and anticipation beforehand, and his favourite way of being a pest – catch him brushing against just the right spot to make you jump and squeal as his arms slip around you, or his chin nuzzles into your neck.

But it starts with a morning of productivity, taken with your own domestic chores in a quiet co-existence. He’s finished a spot-tidy, bringing some discarded rubbish and checking on you in the kitchen. You’re unsuspecting, caught up in your respective daily activities, fixated on the job in front of you – and something hits him. The way you bob along happily to the music in your head, scrubbing at the dishes with a sway in your hips, caught up in your own world. Your happiness is magnetic, beckoning him and basking him in the same warm rush of dopamine. A light bubbles up through his body, something that forces its way from the depths of his chest more often when you’re around, and his feet are moving towards the kitchen before he thinks twice.

“Hey love?”

You hum questioningly, putting elbow grease into a particularly stuck blemish from the morning’s dishes.

“Got somethin’ for you.”

You finally turn around, soapy hands in the air as droplets cascade from them. Simon gives you a second to stare quizzically, watching your expression morph into a pleading grin as his hands creep up from his sides, fingers curling over into a leering grab.

“No! I’m washing dishes, please!”

His grin widens, fingers wiggling threateningly. “Then dry your hands.”

Your hands fall to your shirt, squeezing the material as you ready yourself to bolt. He squares up, arms outstretched, but he doesn’t close them as you swoop by close enough, out the kitchen in a mad dash. Though the chase is superficial, it doesn’t stop the thrill that jolts him with each impending step, following you through to the loungeroom. The sofa keeps him at bay, circling each other in a practiced synchronisation around the furniture as you feint left and right, keeping him guessing which way you’ll take off.

You bluff right to distract him from your plan to run the other way, but Simon lunges left anyway. He’s faster than you can think, reading the tensing of your muscles, and unable to rectify your charade as you scramble, his arms clamp around you in a swooping grab.

And as you gasp and giggle underneath him, something stirs to life.

dividers by cafekitsune

[ily-tothecore]

more sterek fic recs - all completed

finally, some more sterek! enjoy :)

quiet perfection by hyperlittlenori - this is one of my favourite sterek fics ever, it's honestly one of the softest things i've ever read and it has me grinning from ear to ear every single time i read it. it's an AU with a deaf derek and a sign speaking stiles. they meet for the first time at the station and are instantly enamoured with each other. all i want is for this fic to become a series, i just want more of them.

chasing slumber by hyperlittlenori - another fic by this author! this is some of the most intense sterek smut i've ever read in my life, i literally forgot to breathe during it. the boys use sex to cope but it's a lot healthier than it sounds, i swear. there's also a lot of fluff, i love this one so much. this authors writing is immaculate.

from love not lust by hyperlittlenori - another one, i know! this one is just really simple and sweet. the boys fall in love through book annotations and it's so extremely soft. asexual derek is beautiful.

deaton's dream beans by thenerdnextdoor - a coffeeshop/bookstore AU! derek is a brooding hermit who owns a bookstore and stiles is an obnoxious but adorable barista who's trying to start a war with a rival coffee shop. this is such a fun story, with a tiny bit of angst and a whole lot of fluff. also, background thiam! i've read this multiple times, it's just so silly.

i ain't scared of your teeth by antisepticdork - stiles gets attacked by harpies, derek gets growly about it, they fall in like. this one is very much a 'monster of the week' fic, very chill and a bit goofy.

we've written volumes (in blood and scars and ink) by notthequiettype - stiles gets attacked by the alpha pack and derek nurses him back to health with a whole lotta werewolf healing mojo. solid banter, minor smut and a lot of fluff.

you saw me standing alone by orphan account - so obviously i like fics where stiles gets hurt and derek plays the sexy nurse, because here's another one! this is such a sweet fic, and the smut at the end is A+, slutty bottom derek is one of my favourite flavours of derek. he mewls, guys. mewls.

this is ridiculous by zosofi - a pining derek, a bloodthirsty, virgin killing unicorn and an oblivious, virginal stiles stilinski. this fic is so goofy and i love it.

warm shadows by stilinskisparkles - stiles gets hurt after another kidnapping and derek offers to help him out while he heals. a zero angst fic with some great banter and an evil peter hale thrown into the mix. these boys are so in love i wanna scream.

hear it in the silence by elisela - post season six fic where stiles and derek are best friends. stiles drags derek along on an impromptu road trip to escape the pressure of college and they realise they're in love along the way. such a romantic fic with top tier healthy communication, it's just a really beautiful story about falling in love with your best friend.

click here for part one of my sterek fic recs :)

[sunsents]

neteyam sully - beautiful boy

This is the fluffiest thing I've ever written. I'm on my period and very emotional.

➵ summary: Neteyam's beauty renders you speechless, you can't help but gawk at him.

➵ pairing: neteyam x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

➵ word count: 990

➵ warnings: pure, teeth rotting fluff. it's so sweet that even I was embarrassed while writing it. reader is literally just pining after him like an idiot and doing nothing else. reader is a simp.

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

"Will you stop it?"

"But you're just so pretty,"

Sat snugly on Neteyam's lap, you're tracing his facial features with a gentle finger. Your mate, frustrated and flushed - a combo you've come to adore after years of knowing him - keeps swatting at your hand and grumbling lowly.

You can't help it though, he's just so pretty. The type of pretty you stare at for hours without getting enough of it, no matter how much you trace and retrace his facial features with wandering eyes. The type of pretty that has you questioning how, or rather who allowed him to be this beautiful. The inquiries are daily and, nonstop - Eywa's likely fed up with you bending your neck at the sky and letting out a muffled scream of misery. 

Because Neteyam was a hurting kind of pretty - like he was incapable of making a facial expression that made him look even a tinge bit ugly, and this hurt your chest. Squeezed your heart until it shriveled and let out a pent, 'Enough, no more'. Worst of it all, you were free to touch. Free to look, free to fondle, and free to love. He was your mate, after all.  

This thought brought you immense joy every waking hour of the day.

So, he should cut you some slack. You were allowed to trace his facial features, because he looks like that, and he needs to be marveled at and cooed at. 

"I'm not pretty," he grumbles and squeezes your side in an effort to make you stop. It's useless, you're going nowhere. This is where you'll be spending the rest of your years, growing old and all that. Right between his arms. "I'm handsome and mighty!"

"Sure, you're all those. But you're also," you lean close to his ear, "pretty..." 

Neteyam grumbles all the same but stays still when you return to tracing his romanesque nose. His eyes are closed and you can't help but stare at his lashes - dark and long, kissing his cheeks. "I can never say no to you, can I?"

You smile, deciding to stay silent. You both know the answer, Neteyam would jump into a fire if you asked nicely.

So, with this in mind, you give him the softest kisses - peppering them on his smooth cheeks tenderly. His face is truly gorgeous and right in front of you; you can't help but kiss his lips. It's tame but drawn out, a press of lips as Neteyam stays completely still. (Which is a struggle for him since your mate always has to be doing something useful with himself.) You feel him smile against your lips, and a big, warm hand closes around your nape. His beautiful lashes - the ones you were admiring just moments ago - flutter against your cheek.

Neteyam likes to look. Not as much as you, but he had the strange habit of opening his eyes mid-kiss. You don't know how this action became a habit of his, but you're sure it was between the periods of I want to hold your hand longer, and I think I'm in love with you.  It would have been weird if you opened your eyes as well, but your heart never allowed you to. It's surprising you even noticed him doing this since you melt into pudgy goo whenever his lips touch you. So curse Neteyam's long and perfect eyelashes, it's hard not to notice them when they flutter softly against your cheek and tickle your heart. 

You pull away to which he whines, then continue your tracing. The tip of your pointer finger lingers on the curve of his lips - another feature you absolutely adore. His lip twitches and your finger moves to his bottom lip, pulling it down to watch it bounce back. The scene drives you crazy - causes your mind to reel. 

His lips are plush and soft, and his skin is oh-so pliant under your body. Your hand cups the sides of his face, massaging his temples. Neteyam hums and wraps his tail around your waist possessively. "Feels good," his eyes flutter shut again, letting you knead at his face. You try to be as gentle as possible, yet determined to make full use of this moment your mate has allowed you.

You feel the need to knead and smooth over every inch of his body so somehow - hopefully - the ache to just settle into his entire being and live there for the rest of your life is soothed. And the ache scares you.

The intensity of your love scares you because sometimes you feel like you cannot breathe. Neteyam has that effect on you - stealing your breath away with a kind smile and not even being apologetic about it. He's not even aware of his effect on you, and you think that only makes him more guilty. 

Punishing him is fun though - peppering kisses all over his face so he's unable to catch his breath as well, serves him right. You don't stop your kissing, out of breath and flushed. 

"Stop!" Neteyam laughs breathily, trying to push you away. He catches your face between his palms and harshly kisses your lips. Like a kiss a young child would share with a crush, only to run away, giggling, because ewww. 

You scrunch your nose, mumbling protests against his mouth. "You stop!"

He pulls away with a grin - and, oh Eywa. You're truly done for.

"I love you, so much. I could stay here all day, even if people come looking for us. Even if Eywa wills it herself for us to separate. I'm never letting you go, my love." he casually hums as he wraps his arms around you again, pressing you into his chest. So casual that you're baffled, looking up at him through your eyelashes with your lips parted. You feel your heart melting, sliding off from your parted lips and into his palms, snugly finding a new home in his hold.

[7ndipity]

Dating Jungkook headcanons

Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: some swearing, a lil suggestive, I think that's it

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anon who requested this, I've never written a list like this before so it's a little scattered, sorry. Anyway I'm very soft for this man now, goodbye.

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Dating Jungkook is, for lack of a better word, messy. But like in all the best ways.

Late night hangouts when y'all can't sleep and you just end up at the local convenience store, eating snacks or whatever and talking until you notice the sun coming up.

I know I wrote a lil blurb abt it already, but karaoke dates are a regular occurrence. Doesn't matter if you can sing or not, y'all are just having a good time seeing who can hit the highest note(it's him, sorry)

He's one of those people whose friends probably tease cause he says "my s/o is my best friend". But he actually means it, you are his best friend.(I really feel like he would fall for a friend, but that's a discussion for a ot7 reaction I'm working on for next week👀)

Acts really cocky sometimes, but will fold like a house of cards(ha) into the softest boi at the slightest provocation from you.

He's fucking whipped for you, and he knows it.

Was so nervous to kiss you the first time that he legit backed out like three times before it finally happened.

Probably has some kind of nickname for you like "my light" or "my life."

But on the other hand, y'all also tease each other relentlessly, it's like a second love language with him.

Like he will sit there while you're trying to read or smth and poke your cheeks until he gets a reaction out of you.

Will make height jokes, even if you're only like 1in shorter than him.

"Tiny baby." He coos while patting your head. "I'm gonna climb up there and kill you." You warn. "So tiny, so precious."

But if he catches anyone else giving you a hard time about something, God help them.

Possessive(*cough perilla leaf debate)

Gives you his sweatshirts to wear because you look cute in them, but also loves that it's a subtle sign to anybody else that you're his.

This goes both ways though, he loves when you call him yours.

The first time you called him "your boyfriend", he legit short-circuited for a second.

Would probably have matching, macrame type couple bracelets that y'all made together for your second or third month anniversary.

Protective AF

Does that thing where he makes sure you walk on the inner half of the sidewalk when are you're out together, so you're protected from the street?

Not big on Pda exactly, but usually has an arm around you or is holding your hand. He doesn't even realize he's doing it sometimes, it's just kinda become a habit to have you close as much as possible.

He gets so little time with you as it is, so he just wants to make every second count.

When it's just the two of you though, he becomes a fucking koala and will NOT let you go.

Clings to you like his life depends on it.

Begs you to stay over all the time, swears that he can't sleep well unless you're next to him.

At this point, you might as well move in, half of your shit's at his place already anyway.

Looks at you like you're a literal dream.

Like some mornings when neither of you are really awake yet, you look over and he's just staring at you over your coffee mug like🥺

Loves to make you flustered tho

Like, if he notices you have a thing for his arms, he's gonna take every chance he can to roll his sleeves up in front of you just to see your face go red.

Randomly walks up to and gives you these deep, intense kisses and then? just fucking walks away as if nothing happened? Like, nuh-uh, get your ass back here and finish what you started sir!

Talks about your future together with such casual certainty. Like "when we get married, we should get a house like that".

Refers to Bam as your child.

Idk where I'm going with this or how to end it, so I'm just gonna stop here, but yeah. I just think he's neat lol.

[hier--soir]

sun don't set

ellie williams x f!reader

rating: sfw, not explicit summary: life in the little house is calm - quiet. days pass in a blur of fruit and sunshine and companionship. slow mornings, afternoons, and evenings. ellie is slowly rediscovering her love for music, and on that journey, she writes a song about you. warnings/tags: late twenties ellie, set years after the events of tlou2, no spoilers or discussions of plot points in tlou2 - except perhaps the description of an old injury but the way it happened isn't described, established wlw relationship, food and eating, brief description of skinning animals for food, soft soft soft ellie. word count: 1.3k masterlist a/n: this short little thing poured out of me after a nice sunny day and it's maybe one of the softest, sweetest things i've ever written. a slice of life type thing based on the happy ending i hope ellie got x [ALSO the song ellie sings is ronnie's song by odie leigh]

The little house lives in the basin of a valley, circled by sycamore boughs and juniper bushes.

A shallow stream trickles close by.

In the mornings, you eat berries drizzled in honey, sipping warm tea while watching the water. The air is still and quiet, filled only with the sounds of the dribbling brook and teeth sinking into ripe fruit. The first rays of sun arrive and they are safe and warm against your skin, and time moves slowly. Gently.  

You sit on the patio in chairs that she built. Ones that creak and whimper as your weight settles upon them; rickety wood and worn old nails. On the armrest, hers or yours, fingers catch and hold. Thumbs and indexes and pinkies looped together.

In the afternoons, she peels an orange. Spindly fingers tear thick skin, pulling apart perfect segments of flesh – one for you, one for her, one for you, one for her. Together you bite and chew and swallow, jaws and mouths and teeth working in sync. In the silence, you relish the feeling of tasting this together. That burst of juice across your tongues. Wisps of pulp that catch in the cracks of your incisors.

When it’s warm you splay out on the grass, stretching and purring like two cats in the sun. She’s a calico, splotches of white and brown and beige, and you’re a tabby, mottled streaks of burnt orange – wiling away what’s left of your nine lives together.

In the evenings, she returns from her walk. Some days empty handed, others with rabbit or duck or deer trailing behind her. On those days you sit with your knees pressed together, sharp knives peeling back hair and skin and feathers. You eat as the air turns cooler and the sun sets over the hill, an almost endless—always wondrous—burst of oranges and pinks that taint the sky before it turns to black.

Often, you turn in first. Tuck yourself away inside the little house, swathed in blankets; keeping her side of the bed warm. Alone, she reaches for the guitar. Takes it outside and closes the door behind her, so that those soft melodies won’t carry to your ears. With heavy eyelids, your ears pique and strain, eager to listen. But she must stray further than the patio, for you never hear a thing.

Time passes and she joins you soon enough. Her long limbs coil around yours beneath the covers; cold toes press into the skin of your calves. Her hand on your back, those fingers tracing a tickling portrait. The tip of your nose rests in the base of her neck and you breathe in the scent of pine and rosemary and honey on her skin. In the darkness, sinking into her warmth, you feel tenderness thicken the lining of your throat. And together you sleep; at peace knowing that another morning awaits you.

Ellie found the guitar in your fourth year together. Deep brown, layered in dust, the sound hole and fretboard decorated with cobwebs. She didn’t say a word as she slung it over her back and carried it the entire way to the little house. Didn’t offer any explanation when she stashed it away in an empty room. And when you caught her one night, long after sunset, wiping away the dust and tightening the strings, you didn’t ask any questions. Didn’t ask if she was thinking about him – you already knew the answer.  

“It’s hard,” she told you one morning, lips and chin shining with berry juice. “Learning how to play again. How to play… like this.”

Your fingers ghost over the palm of her left hand, splayed on the armrest of her chair. Tracing lines and scars on pale skin until you reach the shortened stumps of her ring and pinkie finger.

“Sometimes the hardest things,” you pick up her hand and lay a soft kiss to each finger, lingering a little longer on those two. “Are the things most worth doing.”

She hums a short response, eyes trained on where your lips touch her skin. Then her hand cups your jaw and brings your face to meet hers, and she smears the taste of blueberries into your mouth.

It’s not until a morning in your fifth year together that you hear it for the first time.

She wanders in from the chicken coop, white and brown eggs cradled in the well of her palms. The wind tousles that short auburn hair, loosening it from behind her ears, and carries her voice through the door to you.

“She’s my… I’m… she’s a coffee cup, I’m tea.”

Your fingers still against the page of your book, and you glance up as she walks through the door, still murmuring under her breath.

“What’s that?” you smile.

“Eggs?” She holds them up, eyebrows pinched defensively—secretively.  

“Ellie,” you laugh. Dog ear the page of your book and tuck it away on the kitchen counter. She nestles the eggs carefully into a bowl and sidles up beside you, hooking an ankle neatly around yours.

“It’s nothing,” her nose brushes against the apple of your cheek, lips chapped and dry from the morning air as they lay a kiss to your jaw. “How do you want your eggs? I’ll make a fire.”

Months pass after that, and you hear it as she bathes. Hear it as she hangs your socks on the clothesline.

“She’s the salt,” she sings faintly. “And I’m the sea.”

Hear it as she builds her arrows, hunched over the table, tired fingers fiddling. Hear it grumbled through a mouthful of mint as she brushes her teeth.

“She’s a dog, and I’m her fleas.”  

One day in Summer you walk together, following that little stream all the way to the lake. You hear it then too. Softly, under her breath, your hand held loosely in hers as the sun turns her shoulders pink.

“If she’s creamer, then I’m jooooe,” the voice you love purrs, her thin lips pursing and parting as she drags out the vowel. “Sun don’t set, wherever we go.”

And then one night, as the two of you sit admiring the sky and all of its pinks and blues and yellows and oranges, you abandon your chair for hers. Slink two steps across the patio and into her lap, welcoming the way her arms drape around your shoulders. She kisses the bone at the top of your spine, the sloping side of your neck, and watches the sky from over your shoulder.

And then she sings quietly, her voice a delicate and hoarse thing against the back of your head.

“She’s a pistol.” A breath in and a breath out. “I’m a bow.”

“Is that from your song?” you ask, voice a hushed whisper. Scared to break the softness of the moment; the sunset trance that rests in a warm shroud over the patio.  

“Hmm?” she murmurs. You feel her lips trail the shell of your ear, the edge of your jaw. You shiver and go lax in her lap.

“Will you sing me your song?” you say louder, eyes focused on the waning horizon.

“My song?” Ellie laughs. One of her hands slips from your shoulder to play with the hairs at the nape of your neck. Twisting a strand around her finger and tugging gently. “It’s your song, babe.”

“Well, I’d like to hear it,” you murmur, and you can hear the smile in your own voice. “Properly, I mean.” Feel the heat that rises in your neck at the mere thought of it. Your song.  

“What about…” she says, fingers thrumming a beat against your stomach now. “What if I sing it for you in the morning? I think it’ll be warm. Sunny. We can see if those strawberries you planted are ready to eat.”

You consider it for a moment—her lips stained pink; eyes bright as she croons your song in the morning sunshine.  

“With the guitar too?”

A pause.

“With the guitar,” she agrees.

You nod once and turn to kiss her. Smile into her mouth.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Strawberries and my song in the morning.”

thank you for reading! x

[sceletaflores]

•｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ wip wednesday!

thanks for the tag babes! @guiltyasdave • nsfw under the cut! 18+ MDNI!

wip #1 • show me a little bit of spine! feat. logan howlett (& crimson!)

'five x-men walk into a bar, only three walk out…'

oops i don't have a sneak peek for this one...sorry chickens.

this is an official part two to "all's fair in love and viscera" cause i can't leave them alone to save my life! i finally decided on the name crimson for this specific reader, and the au as a whole will be called the to the bone universe (that’s also how it’ll be tagged on my acc!!!)

this is jealous!logan getting down and dirty in a bar bathroom after a special someone makes a move on his girl...wink wink nudge nudge. a special guest! a very special guest, cause what better way is there to get a man off their ass and admit they like you than dirty dancing with another man in front of him.

think degradation, biting, pain kink (obvi wtf). there's also some emotional constipation and just a hint of angst. it'll be so fun!

wip #2 • says he needs it bad (oh so very bad) feat. sub!logan howlett (& crimson!)

'it’s not often that logan needs this, but you’re always more than happy to give it to him when he does…'

double oops i don’t have a sneak peek for this one either…pls forgive me!

this is also apart of the to the bone universe but it's more like a non-connecting little blurb than another part...if that makes sense lol i just wanted to write more crimson!

all this is thanks to a lovely anon who sent in a req desperately needing me to speak on sub!logan. it's funny because ofc i'll speak on sub!logan wtf who do you think i am. it's honestly one of the fluffiest, softest things i've ever written...established relationship is really locking my ass down. it's still filthy though don't worry! think riding, think pain kink, think light dustings of a breeding kink. i really don't know how to explain this lmao it's gonna be great trust me!

wip #3 • hunting for sport... feat. logan howlett (& crimson!)

'there's a big bad wolf somewhere in these woods...'

You scramble backwards, stuck watching the way the brush starts to rustle as he gets closer. You push yourself back to your feet, muscles screaming in protest as you break into a sprint. It's all in vain, you know it is. He's only playing with you, letting you tire yourself out. He’s known where you’ve been the whole time, could smell you the whole time, could hear you the whole time. The two of you have been at this long enough now, his patience is starting to run thin. He's right behind you, if the violent thrashing of the brush over your shoulder getting louder is any indication. The dull sound of claws ripping through the forest floor growing closer and closer before the entire woods suddenly tilts on its axis.

this is also in the to the bone universe! can you tell that i'm really into this au? i physically can't stop writing them...another little fic that's outside the events of parts one and two :))) who would i be if i didn't write a chase fic for this man? that's the real question. more violence heavy than the other fics listed, i got bit by the freak bug and i need to write nasty sexy violence sorry babes.

wip #4 • give it to me like a man! feat. dbf!patrick zweig

'patrick comes to your college graduation party, he gives you the best gift...'

“Yeah, I've been pretty busy since the season started. Lot’s of traveling and shit, you know?” Your dad hums in agreement, nodding his head lazily. “For sure, my schedule has been killer this season.” He brags shamelessly, tone heavy with understanding like he and Patrick are in the same boat. Only your dad’s boat is a three million dollar yacht sailing to cushy televised matches and Nike shoots while Patrick is floating on a dinghy to some barely media covered ITF matches. “It’s a miracle I even had time to fly in for the party, isn’t that right sweetheart?” Your hand slides up the length of his cock in one slow motion, your palm grinding over the tip through the denim. “Yeah, daddy.” You say, voice going light and airy around the edges. Patrick thinks it’s being said to your dad, but when his eyes flick over to you, you’re already looking at him. Eyes half-lidded and shiny as your fingers brush over the metal of his zipper.

the long awaited dbf!patrick lol i know i've been dragging this damn thing out for like three weeks but it's the most "done" fic on this list so maybe maybe MAYBE it'll actually be posted soon...

anyway this is nothing but pure filth. just straight up nasty no plot at all pure sex and fucking hard gross style. lots and lots of dirty talk, degradation, risk play, sort of public sex, a barely there daddy kink...just me being nasty on a google doc for no reason!

no pressure tags! @ebodebo @artemis-b-writes @avocado-writing (it's technically thursday but like oh em gee who cares just do it anyway chickens)

[qalijahbydior]

Mirrors — Tom Blyth x Actress!reader

a/n: happy birthday to the internet's boyfriend!! LOL HE'S 29 already I FEEL SO YOUNG 😔🤌 anyway i decided to write since i had to post something while my story is still being written. newayz enjoy reading!

warnings : none just pure fluff

Tom has been in love with you the moment he heard you speak, it might be not the softest tone or soothing but there's something that draws him into you. He finds you pretty, hilarious, oddly funny and you give off that 'sunshine energy' He feels giddy when talking to you and do you feel the same thing? You do. You just love it when he laughs to your stories and hype your jokes especially when he listens to you. You two have always been teasing each other and that's what makes your friendship go on.

"Tom, come here! Look what I've found!" You say as you carry the ginger kitten and pat it. He came running to you and was already planning to touch the cat but you pulled it away. "Let me guess, you want to adopt it right?" he said, crossing his arms and tilted his head to the side. "Of course I do but the owner of my apartment specifically said no pets." You frowned at the thought of it. You really wanted to adopt the cat even if you just met him. Tom looked at you, scrutinizing your reaction. He then took the cat and rubbed its throat.

"You adopt it but it goes home to me, how does that sound?" He looked at you and the cat lovingly, his words made your face lit up and squeal at excitement. Him volunteering for the cat to live in his house meant having you over so he thought it was a good idea. "What, really? Are you serious?" you say as your eyes fluttered. You didn't think that he'd also like to take care of the cat that you were holding. "Yeah besides I feel like my house can use a pet since I don't have one." He shrugged, still petting the cat. You clung to his arms and hugged it "Yay! I now have a cat!" you squealed again then he looked at you, smiling.

she's so cute i can adopt a lot of cats if her reaction will be like this everytime he thought to himself

"But, I will name him. That's the condition, alright?" his tone was teasing because he knows that you already have a name for the cat. And you gladly let him name the cat, you nodded. "Alright, you name him." and just by a snap of a finger he already has a name for the cat. "His name is Miku, cute right?" he turned to you then smiled.

if loving this cat means getting even closer to you then i will love him and cherish him because he'll always remind me of you he thought as he was looking at your face, like it was illuminating and he loved it.

As for you, you thought that he's so kind to even offer the cat that you were adopting a roof to live in. Tom has always been nice to you and everything you love, you do, and you liked he liked it all too. As if he's now mirroring you. Everything he does is now a reflection of you.

"Nice choice, it is cute." you thought the name was cute but it had a hidden meaning and he knows. Miku is a japanese name and it means 'beautiful sky' it's name matches the way he looks at you. You're the sunshine and now the cat is the beautiful sky.

"I'll put the cat on my dressing room." you gently tried to get the cat from him but he refuses. "Nuuh, I'll hold him for a while. I'm the Dad after all." he said, a smirk creeping on his face. You furrowed your eyebrows and scrunched your nose as a reaction. "Let me hold him, you get to take him home later." you still tried to get Miku for him but he doesn't budge.

"No, I'll hold him first so he can get used to me." he's still pulling the cat away from you and tou seem to figure out a good way to deal with this and it's by distracting him. "Wait, let's buy something for him real quick. There's a pet shop five blocks away from here. We'll be quick we just need to buy uhhh a collar, wet food for kittens and his very own plate." You smiled as you pat Miku.

You and Tom, both carrying the kitten in your arms, went to the pet shop five blocks from your set. You had come to buy everything the kitten needed, and despite some hesitation by the shopkeeper - who warned you this was a lot of responsibility - you were confident that you could do it. The kitten meowed softly as it was carried away from the safety of his littermates and the familiar surroundings of the pet shop, clearly a bit anxious and unsure of what was to come next.

You and Tom carry the kitten back to the set. The kitten is a bit fussy and wants to explore everything, but eventually settles down in Tom's arms. As the kitten falls asleep, you can't help but marvel at just how cute and adorable it is. You have to admit that the pet shop was right, cats are a lot of work. But it's so worth it when the kitten is snuggled up against your chest, purring softly. It makes all the work feel worth it. You took your phone then took a picture of you, Tom and Miku.

you two will make such good cat parents and you know it.

You're now sitting at Tom's couch, inside his house as you insisted that you come and feed Miku. This day went on so fast a while ago you're contemplating whether to get Miku or just leave him there but you now have him! Tom is also loving Miku as the cat always clings onto him and purrs on his touch. You asked him if you can stay at his house for a while before you go home and he agreed.

"You know what it's starting to look like you're Miku's owner and not me but either way, it seems like he really likes you." you crossed your legs and picked Miku up to put him on your lap and pet him. "We're his owner, babe. Chill. Besides I used to have a cat that's why he seemed to like me." his words warmed your heart and did he just call you babe...? The thought of the two of you owning a cat is so cute and it just fuels your feelings towards him even more.

"Thank you, really, Tom. I appreciate this so much. I love that you also love Miku." you smiled at him as he was setting up Miku's bed. "Anything for you, pretty girl." He looks at you with love in his eyes, and the butterflies on your stomach felt like they're going to explode. You felt blood rushing through your face, feeling flustered. You just bit your lower lip, stopping yourself from smiling and continued to pet Miku.

Tom has always been like this, he compliments you at the most unexpected moments and it just gets you all red and flustered. You love his compliments and he loves giving it to you. He likes seeing you smile, laugh and jolly because seeing you happy makes him happy too. Your enthusiasm is like a virus once he gets to you. And you also love making him happy, that man's happiness is just simple. You don't know how you make him happy but you just do anything anyway.

Your friendship with him has been a rollercoaster ride, it gets crazy the more that it lasts. You wanted to tell him how you feel towards him but It also scared you, the thought of losing your friendship just because of your feelings towards him scared you.

You always fought the urge to tell him how you felt, so instead of telling him you just express it. Physical touch, words of affirmation and acts of service has always been your love language. You liked being near him, you liked clinging onto him like he's going to disappear anytime.

He now sat down beside you and just looked at you as you were playing with Miku. "Y/N" he called and you turned to him, smiling. "Yeah?" his expression softened as he spoke once again. He looked like he was in deep thought before he spoke. "How come you're not dating anyone? I've never seen you go around and date someone?" he asked, he always thought of that but if ever that you really did it would hurt. Just the thought of you dating another guy that isn't him is already piercing his heart.

"I'm not interested. That's it, I'm not looking for anything because I've already got what I need. I can never ask for more." and that's how you really felt through out your friendship with him. You know that he probably doesn't think of your friendship like you two were tied to each other but it always felt that way.

"But do you like someone right now or I don't know, used to like someone?" he knows that this question might be a risk but he still asked it, desperate for an answer. Like his whole feelings depended on it. You didn't know how to answer the question because you were afraid that he might think that he's the one you're talking about. But you're going to make the most out of it

"Well, there's this friend of mine. He really makes me happy. What's for sure is I like him but I can never tell him what I feel. What if my growing feelings ruin our friendship? I enjoy what we have. I feel like I'm already tied to him but not in a bad way, you get me? This friend has been there for me since we met, and lately I've been feeling that I'm seeing myself through him. Not in a selfish way." you explained and that got him thinking of the things that he's done to you or with you these days, trying to connect the dots and see if it would make sense.

And now, it did make sense. He just now realized that he's mirroring you, too. You two are the reflections of each other

"Y/N, it's me isn't it?" he asked, wanting to confirm his thoughts. You looked down and nodded. He was so happy that It was him and you felt the same. He put Miku aside and held both of your hands, he made you face him. His ocean blue eyes looking at you.

"You know why I stuck with you the moment we met? There's like an invisible force pulling me towards you. Your smile, your laugh, your funny antics had got me. It's just so addicting that I found myself always crawling towards you. You're like a ray of sunshine that wherever you go you lighten up everything." he removed his other hand from your grip and caressed the side of your face, and you finding comfort in it. His words made your heart melt even more. You loved him the same as he's the reason why you laugh and smile.

"I never knew that you saw me like that. I now know why you always tease me and make me laugh. To be honest I feel the same, there's a missing part of me whenever you're away from me even just feets away. There's something lacking when you're not there making me laugh and it has been a routine ever since. Your presence and existence completes me." you gave him a sweet smile then looked down at your hands intertwined.

The butterflies on your stomach felt crazy. His hands holding you, his ocean blue eyes fixated on you and love just filling the room felt right and perfect. He looks at you the way he always looks at you all the time, eyes full of admiration and love. You've always tried to shake off that thought when he looks at you thinking that you're just mistaken or seeing things but now it's all clear. He loves you, likes you, adores you like you're the only thing that's meant to be adored.

And you also tried to hide that look in your eyes but now that got you thinking, did he always see right through me?

The moment feels euphoric for Tom, and he can't contain his excitement as he shares his true feelings with you. He has waited for this moment for so long, and finally, it's here. Tom confesses his love for you, and you can sense the genuine and pure emotion behind his words. Seeing your reaction, he feels beyond happy and satisfied that you now know how he feels. He feels like he has accomplished something special, and the sight of your face only makes the whole experience even sweeter.

The vacancy that sat in my heart, is a space that now you hold.

[canirove]

Kenan Yildiz Imagine

Author’s note: I said to myself that I wasn't going to write for anyone younger than Pedri, but I liked this request I got on Wattpad because I myself got a wisdom tooth removed this summer, and even though I've never heard of this player before, my youngest cousin follows him on Instagram and I said to myself, he can't be that bad 😅 So... yeah. Something hopefully cute where I've written a bit about my own experience getting a wisdown tooth removed, but with the addition of a cute guy taking care of the reader 😁 Hope you like it and thank you for reading! 💜

Masterlist

“There you are” Kenan smiles as I leave the dentist’s office. “How are you feeling? Are you ok? They took their time, didn't they? I know it was just a wisdom tooth and that it was in a weird position, but I hope nothing bad happened, because I've read some things and… What are you doing?” he asks me as I move my hand in the air. “I don't understand. Are you ok? Are you in pain? Fainting? Should I call someone for help?”

“Bloody hell” I say to myself while rolling my eyes and trying to snatch my bag from his arm.

“Oh, you wanted this! Sorry, babe” he chuckles as I take it and struggle to open it with one hand, the other holding an ice pack to my face. “Here, let me help you” he says, finally doing something useful and opening my bag for me while I get my phone and start typing. “I can't talk yet. And don't call me babe” he reads when I show him what I typed. “Oh, sorry. Are we allowed to go home? Cool” Kenan says when I nod. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“So…” Kenan says once we make it to my place and I let myself fall on the sofa. “What can I do for you? More ice?”

“Here” I whisper, giving him the list with all the things my dentist suggested. 

“Lots of ice to avoid swelling and bruising, eat ice cream, ice lollies, and nothing hot, just soft foods, a bunch of medicines… Ok. Can I leave you alone for a bit while I go buy it all or would you prefer it if I stayed and gave you some cuddles?” he says, kneeling next to me and gently caressing my head when I lay down. 

“You can go. I think I'm gonna take a nap” I whisper again, barely able to open my mouth.

“Perfect. I'll be as fast as I can, ok?”

“Maybe not too fast. I don't want you having an accident or something.”

“Just a bit quick, then” he smiles, kissing my forehead and leaving. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Honey, I'm home! Shit, maybe I shouldn't have been so loud, you said you were going to take a nap and… Oh my God, babe. What happened? Why are you crying?” Kenan says, throwing away the bags he was carrying and running towards me.

“It hurts” I sob, sitting up. “It hurts so much.”

“Urgh, I'm so sorry” he says before hugging me. “I should have been back earlier, but there were so many people everywhere, both in the shops and on the road…”

“My medicine?”

“I got it, don't worry. Why don't I make you something to eat so you can take it, uh?”

“Please. I'm starving.”

“Ok” he smiles.

“Kenan!” I yell when he touches my cheek. “That hurts!”

“Sorry, I'm sorry” he apologizes. “I didn't realise and… I'm sorry.”

“Now it is even worse because I hurt myself when I yelled at you!” I cry. 

“I'm so so sorry. I'm an idiot.”

“Yes, you are!”

“I'm sorry” he says once again. “I'm gonna make you something to eat, ok? Something soft and cold. A sandwich, perhaps?”

“Ok” I nod, laying down again and curling myself into a ball, the pain being almost unbearable since besides feeling it all over my mouth, it has moved up to my ear for whatever the reason.

“Your lunch, my lady” Kenan says, joining me again on the sofa a few minutes later. “A sandwich made with the softest bread, jam and cheese. Do you want me to cut it for you so it is easier to eat?”

“Please” I whisper, sitting up again.

“I've also brought you some cold water to drink. It may feel nice.”

“Thank you” I say, trying to smile. But even that hurts. “Oh, c'mon!”

“What happened?”

“I can't drink” I say, looking down at my wet t-shirt and starting to cry again. 

“It is just water, babe. It's ok” he says, wiping away my tears and cleaning my chin with a napkin. “Here, have a bite.”

“Thank you” I sob. 

“What happened now? Is it because I called you babe?” Kenan asks me when I start crying again. “I'm sorry, I know you don't like it, but…”

“Chewing hurts!”

“Ok, umm… Do you want some ice cream instead?”

“What ice cream did you buy?”

“Your favourite, of course” he smiles. “Stracciatella.”

“I can't eat that, Kenan! It has bits of chocolate!”

“Oh, shit. That's true. I… I'm so sorry. I…”

“This is the worst thing ever!” I cry, laying down again. “I'm useless!”

“Hey, no. You are the strongest person I know. You can and will survive this, you hear me?”

“I won't” I whisper.

“You will” he says, getting up from the sofa and leaving me alone while I just cry. Though while I do it, I can hear him talking to himself on the kitchen, opening and closing drawers and the fridge a few times. “Ok, let's try this.”

“What?” I say, wiping away my tears and looking at him as he sits down again.

“Yogurt. You don't have to chew it and it is soft and cold. It is perfect! Now, open your mouth.”

“Are you seriously going to feed me as if I was a baby?”

“Well, you are my baby even if you hate it when I call you babe” he smirks.

“Idiot” I reply, rolling my eyes.

“C'mon, let's start just with a tiny bit” Kenan says.

“Fine” I sigh, opening my mouth as much as I can without hurting myself too much.

“And?”

“It's ok.”

“Another one?”

“We are gonna be here until tomorrow if you plan on making me eat all of that like this.”

“I don't have anything else to do, so” he shrugs, giving me another tiny spoonful. “Besides, even if I did, there is nothing more important than taking care of you.”

“Aww, Kenan… If pouting didn't hurt, I would give you a kiss.”

“We'll save it for when you can, then” he winks. “C'mon. Eat this so you can take your pills and sleep for a bit.”

“Ok. I love you, you know?”

“I know. I love you too” he smiles.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Oh my God!” 

“What? What happened? Please tell me your teeth aren't falling off” Kenan says, walking into the bathroom.

“What?” 

“It can happen, you know? I saw this Tiktok and…”

“It can't. Don't believe everything you read or see online, especially on Tiktok. And why are you covering your eyes?”

“In case there is blood. You know I struggle with that.”

“There is no blood” I sigh, looking at myself in the mirror. “Though since I look like a monster, maybe you should keep your eyes covered.”

“A monster? What do you mean?”

“Look” I say, turning around. “I look like Yennefer before she became pretty.”

“What?” Kenan chuckles.

“Look!” I say again, pointing at my cheek. “My face is so swollen and bruised that it is as if I've grown another chin or something!”

“Yesterday you got a wisdom tooth removed, babe. That is normal, the dentist said it.”

“This isn't normal. I look so horrible” I say, starting to cry again.

“You could never look horrible” he says, closing the space between us and hugging me. “Ever, you hear me? And this will go away in a couple of days and you'll be back to being Yennefer the hot witch.”

“You know who she is?”

“I've watched “The Witcher” too” he shrugs. “And the only thing that matters now is that you properly recover and aren't in pain. And maybe that your teeth don't fall off.”

“What… Idiot” I say again, rolling my eyes when I see him smirking.

“How are you feeling?��� he says, moving to look at me and gently caressing my other cheek, the one that doesn't look like… like whatever the other does.

“A bit sore, but it isn't as bad as yesterday.”

“Good” he smiles, wiping away some of my tears. “So, what do you want to have for breakfast? I thought I could smash some fruit and mix it with the yogurt. Or maybe try with an omelette? I texted my mum yesterday while you were sleeping and she gave some ideas.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah” he says with a shy smile. “I want to take care of you, help you feel better and recover. So I may or may have not spent the day doing research.”

“And watching stupid Tiktoks that make you believe my teeth are going to fall off.”

“That too” he chuckles. “Anyway, what does the lady want for her breakfast?”

“Let's try the omelette. I'm tired of eating like a baby.”

“Ok” he smiles. “And stop saying you look like a monster, because you don't, you hear me? You don't.”

“I don't” I sigh. 

“C'mon” he says, kissing my nose and taking my hand on his before we leave the bathroom. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“It's gone!” 

“What?” Kenan yawns.

“The bruise! The swelling! It's all gone, look!” I say, turning on the light.

“Too bright!” he complains, covering his face.

“Kenan, look!”

“Urgh” he says, slowly opening his eyes. “You look as beautiful as you always do.”

“I didn't look beautiful last week and you know it” I say, hitting his arm.

“To me you did” he smiles. “But see how I was right and you just needed to be patient?”

“Yeah… Sorry.”

“It's ok” he says, sitting up in the bed and caressing my cheek. “I've missed doing this and not seeing you wince because it hurts.”

“Same” I smile.

“And it also is nice to not feel my hand getting frozen as I hold an ice pack to it to help you.”

“Next time you get injured I'll do it for you, I promise.”

“Or you could get into an ice bath with me” he smirks.

“Umm… no.”

“Ok” he laughs. “Should we go make us some breakfast?”

“I'll do it. Let it be my thank you for being the best boyfriend ever and taking care of me these days. And for dealing with my changes of mood too.”

“Any time. I love you… babe” he smirks, making me roll my eyes.

“I love you too” I reply, not being able to hide my smile before kissing him. 

[happy-beeeps]

Hello there! My request is this: the reader wants to learn hand-to-hand combat but has a crush on Hunter and doesn’t know how to ask him. Omega helps the reader and the reader gets what she wants. On the first day of training she trips and lands on top of Hunter and fluff or smut happens. Up to you :)

hahahahaha heyyyyyy I'm so sorry this is so late. In good news, it got away from me and turned into 4k words of the softest smut I've written!!! I am in love with this man!!!!

(also if you're asking yourself if I was inspired by the top gun volleyball scene the answer is yes I was and no I won't apologize for it.)

Take My Breath Away

pairing: Hunter x f!reader

WC: 4k

MINORS DNI 18+ BELOW CUT

Warnings: p in v sex, fingering, first time, feelings confession, awkward reader

Summary: When Omega convinces Hunter to finally train you in combat, things don't go to plan... or do they?

You’re leering, you know it. You really can’t help it, your spot inside the Marauder has left you with a perfectly obscured view to watch the training exercises happening outside. There’s a box of medical supplies in your lap while you stare through the front viewport, watching Hunter and Tech team up against Echo and Wrecker as they practice hand-to-hand perfectly in your view. 

Hunter has long forgone his long sleeve black shirt, his tattoos on full display as his skin bakes in the sun. It is hot, you supposed, but you assumed nearly every midday on Jakku got this warm. They’re all in various states of undress, grappling with each other with the kind of joyful fighting that reminds you of the village boys and their games back home. 

Sweat beads roll off his chest in a slight pattern, and you can see through the viewport that he’s used his bandana as a makeshift tie, pulling his hair up into some kind of knot on the top of his head. Echo has gotten Tech into some kind of hold, and the latter is thrashing against him trying to wiggle his way out. Hunter, however, is practically glistening as he shoots Wrecker a grin while they circle one another, until his legs push against the coarse sand outside and he lunges for his younger brother’s legs. He must’ve gotten Wreck with an element of surprise because the larger clone actually tumbles a bit, his center of gravity thrown off. You can’t hear them from inside the ship, but from the looks on their faces you can tell they’re laughing. Echo seems to have succeeded in locking Tech down, and the four of them exchange shakes and smirks–and move to repeat the game. 

Happiness looks good on him.

“Why are you watching Hunter again?” Omega’s small, but chipper, voice startles you from your daydream (something involving Hunter and his back that you’ll never tell.)

“Nothing! I’m not, not even watching him,” you stumble, trying desperately to make yourself look busy with the box in front of you. “I’ve gotta keep an eye on his injuries Meg, that's all.”

“But I thought you said he’d be better three rotations ago?”

She’s caught you now, and your face grows hot with the realization. “Well, yeah, of course. But still, as a medic, it’s my job to keep an eye on you all.”

You move to stand and ruffle her hair, toting the box on your hip as you move to go back to the med closet. You suppose you’ve done enough gawking for today.

“Are you red because you’re embarrassed about something?”

Now this makes you stop in your tracks. You whip your head to turn and face the young girl, who’s mouth smiles innocently at you while her eyes smirk knowingly. Kriff. You knew you shouldn't have let her start watching romcoms. 

“I’m not embarrassed,” you start, still making your way to the closet while Omega follows closely behind. “I just don’t know any combat, so I’m watching to learn, it’s just embarrassing not to know.”

Nice. Good save. You’ll pat yourself on the back for that one later. 

“Oh, that makes sense.” Is all you get from Omega, before you’re met with the sound of her feet moving down the walkway. You’re left alone with your thoughts, idylly shuffling supplies around the closet, delving back to your daydream. Minutes pass like this, in quiet peace, before a rough, masculine voice snaps you back to reality.

“Hey,” Hunter starts, leaning against the doorframe that separates the main cabin from the armory and med closet. He’s not shirtless anymore, instead wearing a mockingly thin white tank top that’s becoming less and less opaque the more his chest is pressed against it. “Omega said you wanted to learn some moves?”

Sure enough, Omega stands behind Hunter, arms crossed proudly as she looks between the two of you. “She’s important Hunter, she has to learn!” The younger girl shouts, and Hunter smiles down at her.

“Sure she is. That’s why I’m gonna teach her,” he looks up at you now with questioning eyes, “that is, if you’re interested? Tech is gonna bring Echo and Wrecker on a supply run for a few hours, so you don’t have to worry about them?”

“Y-yeah, that sounds great.” Maker, is that stumbling voice yours? This is getting worse by the minute.

“Hunter, can I go with? Tech said the market is no worse than Mos Eisley, and you let me go there, Wrecker already said he’d watch me!” Omega pleads with her big brother, pulling at his fingers in a subtle gesture to lead the two of you outdoors. 

“Sure, Meg. If it’s fine with them, it’s fine with me.”

* * *

Your body aches, your joints cracking with each move. You’ve barely even begun the training, merely the warmups Hunter has put you through in this scorching heat has gotten you coated in your own layer of sweat. He moved through each warm up with ease, and finished his last stretch lazily, leaning his weight on his back leg and placing his hands firmly on his hips. It took nearly everything in you not to stare at him, his shirt back on but replaced by a mockingly thin white tank top that grew less opaque with every passing moment.

“Thought you said you wanted to learn?” His voice brought you back out of your daydream, reminding you exactly why you were standing here. You had gone this long without him really knowing your feelings, aside from the simple flirtation the two of you shared to pass the time. One afternoon wouldn’t kill you.

“Thought you said we’d start slow,” you grumble in reply, moving to face him with an agitated determination.

He doesn’t give you a verbal response, merely moving to stand behind you, placing his hands and your shoulders before reaching them across to grab your wrists. “I’m gonna put you in the first stance,” he says, moving his hands, and your wrists, up to a blocking motion before kicking one of his feet between your legs. With gentle, albeit rough, taps to each foot, your legs slowly shuffled wider apart, granting you more stability on the sandy terrain. The motion of him slowly spreading your legs open, however, had the complete opposite effect, and your stomach dropped nearly to your toes as your chest flutters with warmth. This was exactly why you hadn’t asked for help in the first place.

“Looks good,” he started, moving back to face you. “Now, when you punch, you’re not just pushing your fist out, right? You’re punching with your whole arm, try hitting my hand.”

“But, I don’t want to hurt you!” You sputtered, and his lazy, easy smile returned.

“Trust me, you won’t.”

You pass nearly an hour like this, moving to punch Hunter with as much force as you could muster, and him blocking you with ease. It’s not that you were weak by any means, you wouldn’t have lasted as the Batch’s medic if you were, but this kind of strength was foreign to you. You were slipping, growing more tired by the moment. Your punches slowly falter. Finally, as the heat and the exertion caught up to you, your legs followed the swing of your arm, sending you toppling your whole weight onto Hunter.

He too must’ve begun feeling the heat, as his normally subvert reflexes failed him. Your weight and his surprise sent the two of you toppling onto the sand, his arms reaching to cup your elbows, carefully guiding you to land on his chest. The sweat on both of your skin made the two of you sticky, and your thin shirt did little to hide the flush of your chest as you pressed against his toned body. Hunter also seemed to be responding to the moment, his eyes opening and closing rapidly, his chest rising and falling with increasing speed.

Maker. You hadn’t thought about how awful you must’ve smelled.

“I’m sorry Hunter, I’m sure I smell-“

“Great,” he gritted out, you assumed his tone was dripping in sarcasm. Your wince must not have garnered the response he was hoping for, and his eyes widened in panic. “No, no, I mean it. Kriff, that’s not what I meant.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s warm out here, don’t mention it,” you shook awkwardly, moving to push off of him. Instead, Hunter’s grip on the backs of your arms tightened to hold you in place.

“I mean it,” he murmurs, “you’ve been driving me crazy all day.”

You blink in surprise as that warm feeling from before returns, and you resist the urge to press yourself against him even further. 

“What, just because I’m a slow learner?” you blush and shake your head, trying to hide your face from the intensity of his stare, and the overbearing Jakku sun.

“Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“That,” he removes one hand from its spot on your arm to tug your chin back at him, his eyes falling to your lips for the briefest moment before coming back to yours, “hide from me.”

Your response is quiet, timid. “Because you don’t mean it.”

“Why would you think that? We’ve kind of been toeing around it for weeks now.”

You’re sputtering now, “I thought you were joking.”

“I don’t joke when it comes to you,” something akin to hurt flashes across his eyes, and his grip on your arms loosens slightly. Kriff. You’re losing him now, and the panic that settles in your chest takes over before your brain can properly think its way out of it.

You’re fully pressing your breasts against him now, relenting the rest of your weight onto him as your arms snake their way to his face and you pull him towards you before he has a chance to feel any more hurt at your expense. Your lips crash to his in a kiss that’s equal parts full of reassurance and want, and he molds against you quickly. Whatever doubt and hurt he might’ve felt a moment ago is replaced by something darker, something needier.

Hunter adjusts you on top of him easily, pulling you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. When you pull away from the kiss you watch as he brings your legs tighter around his waist and, with little struggle, manages to stand up against the sand, never dropping you from your perch.

You try not to go faint at the way his leg muscles tense beneath the rolled up cuffs of his pants as he lifts the two of you from the ground with ease. Hunter has always been scrappy, never as much bulk as Wrecker but easily the second largest of his brothers. Echo used to joke that what he lacked in height he made up for in muscle mass.

You can’t stop yourself from leaning in to him, placing needy open mouth kisses along the curve of his neck, the sharp edges of his jaw. He groaned at your touch, his steps quickening towards the Marauder. There’s a break as he fidgets with the controls to lower the ramp and it starts its painstakingly slow descent. In a fit of impatience, Hunter has your back pressed against the side of the ship and moves to kiss you again, this time it’s bruising and impatient. He’s been wanting this just as long as you, you realize. Whatever the door the two of you just opened isn’t going to be easily shut.

He’s methodical with the way he kisses you, but his hands are anything but. He pulls teasing tugs at your lower lip, slowly parts your mouth with his tongue–like he’s testing something. 

“Hunter,” you beg, turning your head from him in a feeble gesture to get him to notice that the ramp has lowered.

“I’ve just wanted to kiss you for so long,” he admits, a tenderness in his eyes that your stomach doing backflips, “I don’t think I can ever stop.”

He walks to the two of you up the ramp of the ship before setting you down gently in the hull. You’re staring up at him now, his hands resting on the small of your back, keeping you close.

“You tell me what’s too much cyar’ika. I’ll take whatever part of you you’ll give me.”

“All, all of me. I’m not afraid.” You murmur, pressing yourself against him before leaning to loop your arms around his neck.

He meets you halfway to kiss you, albeit gentler than before, before turning you and moving you backwards with small steps. You know this ship like the back of your hand, even backwards and with your eyes closed, and you can tell from the way he’s moving you that you’re moving towards his quarters.

“We can go to my room?” You ask, breathless. They had graciously turned the small medbay into a space for your quarters, of sorts. You had a larger bed than any member of the batch, with the caveat that your roommates were small surgical machines and overflow boxes of bacta. 

“No, want you in my bed, if that’s ok?” 

You nodded while he continued to guide you towards the rest of the batch’s quarters, your vision becoming shaded from the darkness of the room. You were grateful now that Hunter’s bunk was on the bottom, as the backs of your legs bumped into the mattress.

He laid you down on the mattress and quickly stretched across you, giving you full freedom to remove your arms from his neck and let them roam against the broad expanse of his back. His kisses met your neck almost as soon as he settled on the mattress, and from the way his teeth nipped at the soft skin, you knew you’d be littered with marks.

Whatever. You’re sure they’d pick up on it eventually. 

Your thoughts were interrupted as Hunter pulled you up towards him, using the space to pull your shirt off and discard it on the floor, leaving you in the thin cottony breastband you’d picked specifically because it was too hot to even think about something better. You, in turn, pulled at the hem of the thin white tank top, and he smirked at you as he moved back, pulling it up over his head. There was enough space between the bunks for him to sit comfortably upright, and you moved forward to meet him, bringing his hands to your waist.

“It’s too hot for all these layers.”

If he was surprised he barely showed it, raising an eyebrow before moving to unfasten your breastband, leaving the two of you bare from the waist up.

“Mesh’la, I can’t… I can’t stop.”

“Then don’t.” You smiled, leaning back on his mattress, watching his form cage you in.

His response was immediate, falling closer to you and moving his kisses farther down your neck before moving to bring his mouth to your breast, now bare to him. His lips dragged over your newly exposed flesh, before his tongue flattened over the stiff peak of your nipple.

He wasted no time in palming your other breast, and the briefest glance you got of your skin beneath his inked fingers was enough to elicit the smallest of whimpers from your mouth. He paused from his work on your nipple to glance up at you, before sending a devilish grin as his hand removed itself from your chest and made small movements towards your thighs. With a quick and decisive movement he placed his hand just on the squishy flesh of your inner thigh, before hooking a finger around the seam of your panties and shifting them down.

You jostled a bit to help them come off and Hunter surged to kiss you again, his breath warm and inviting on your mouth. In an instant you let out a soft gasp as his fingers began to move towards your folds, before he slowly pushed two fingers into your heat. 

The feeling of being filled in any capacity by him immediately sent warmth flooding to every corner of your body, and you bucked your hips against him as he moved his fingers in a delicious hooking motion, pulling you closer and closer to oblivion with each movement.

“So warm for me, so wet.” He grumbled against your neck, and your hands threaded through his hair, desperate to keep his body against yours.

“Hunter, need you, now.”

“Shh,” he murmured, moving faster, and a twisting in your feeling in your gut suddenly struck, along with the realization that you were quickly approaching an orgasm. “Come for me first, princess. Need to make you feel good first.”

His words and motions combined sent that first orgasm crashing over you fast, the tips of your fingers and the lower half of your body shaking in pleasure while he took his sweet time, coaxing every bit of your oblivion out of you in slow, melodic motions. When you had come back down to earth, he pulled his hand from you before bringing it to his mouth, bringing his fingers to his mouth and tasting you finally.

“Next time you’re finishing on my tongue,” he groaned, head thrown back. You took his momentary distraction to pull at the band of his boxers, already eyeing the deliciously thick silhouette of his hard length pressing against the fabric.

“Hunterrr,” you whined, leaning up and pressing kisses from his collarbone down his chest, before deciding you couldn’t take it anymore and plunging your hand into his boxers, running your hand up and down the velvety skin of his shaft. You paused at the tip, running your fingers over it and collecting the precum already leaking out.

“Need to learn some patience,” he groaned, before shifting to pull the last offending article of clothing off, and pressing you firmly, and softly to the mattress. With his boxers gone you could see him now. He was big, bigger than any man you’d been with before, and prettier too. The inky black markings of his tattoos led down his whole torso, pausing just at the start of his shaft. It was one of the few spots on his body where you could admire every inch of tanned, warm skin.

Hunter moved down to kiss you, this one sweet and short, running a hand down your core to collect some of the mess he’d already made of you, before running it along his length. He leaned back and looked at you, his eyes warming with a fondness that suddenly had you feeling more naked now than you had this entire time. 

“You take my breath away,” he murmured in a voice dripping with an emotion you weren’t bold enough to try and name, before picking up one of your legs and easily tossing it over your shoulder. “You’ve been my dream this whole time. Wanna make sure you’re ready.”

“Hunter,” you paused, reaching a hand up to his cheek, “if you don’t fuck me now, I’m going to go catatonic.”

His laugh had your leg shaking, and he rolled his eyes, “remind me to fuck some manners into you next time.”

Without any more pretense you felt his tip surge past your walls, stretching you out deliciously and giving a sense of satisfaction greater than anything you’d felt before. He pushed farther before bottoming out and nudging just right against that spot you’d always struggled to reach. The same one that had you tossing one arm over your eyes and another grasping at nothing out of pure bliss. His name breathed past your lips like a prayer, and you felt him shiver a bit at it.

“Fuck, that’s my girl.” He moaned, starting his thrusts at a slow, manageable pace. You felt one of his hands slide up the sheets on his mattress before sliding and weaving his fingers between yours. “Don’t hide from me.” He whispered, and you brought your arm down, placing it firmly on the bicep he was using to support himself against you.

He felt fucking amazing. You had met a guy in an alley on Coruscant who tried to sell you deathsticks once, and you felt like you had to go back and tell him he was wrong. There had to be a better high. Being fucked into your pillows by Hunter while he held your hand and whispered to you had to be better. You weren’t a scientist (ok, maybe you were) but this had to be the best feeling a human being could feel.

Hunter’s pace quickened, and soon the cabin was filled with the sickeningly sweet sound of skin slapping against skin, his hips snapping against you. His senses must’ve made him perfectly attuned to how you were feeling, any shift in pleasure, any barely audible moan. His hand had removed itself from yours, instead holding your wrist and pressing you firmly into the bed in a move that felt more possessive and dominant than threatening.

“You’re mine.” You had moaned without realizing it, and his pace picked up again. A twisting, numbing feeling began to blossom in your core and Hunter brought your leg down, surging forward to kiss you as he fucked you farther into oblivion.

“You’re my girl, you’ve always been my girl.” He groaned into your neck before pulling back. “Just been waiting for you to realize it. I wanna hear you say it.”

“You’re mine, I’m yours.” You groaned, his hips bucking up and nudging again and again into that spot. His hand removed itself from your wrist and you used the newfound freedom to rake your hands down your back, sending moans of pleasure out of Hunter.

“I’m all yours princess,” he groaned, “so sweet, so soft for me. Fuck, so tight.”

His praise and words and breakneck speed had you hitting your orgasm like a brick wall, turning you from head to toe in a shivering, gasping mess as your walls clenched around him. You gripped his hair in a desperate attempt to tether yourself to something corporeal as he fucked you through it, his own pace becoming quick and sloppy.

“‘M close, where,” was all he was able to rasp out.

“In, ‘s okay.” Was the closest thing you had to a response. You’d tell him about your implant later.

In an instant, he was groaning into your neck, his hips slapping against yours sending you nearly into sensory overload, before you felt his warmth against you. For a moment after he barely moved, just breathed against you as if he couldn’t imagine this had actually happened. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, you running a hand along his back and through his hair as he pressed sweet kisses along your neck, likely trying to soften the purple marks you were certain he had left.

“Lemme get you cleaned up,” he whispered, as if careful not to scare the moment away. He pulled back from you slowly, before reaching to tug his pants back on and heading to the fresher. He was only gone for a few moments, returning with a warm, wet rag that he lovingly dashed between your legs and a pair of clean shorts from your quarters and one of his shirts.

“Thought you might want something comfortable.” He said as he passed it to you, and you quickly changed into it, relishing into how the shirt smelled so distinctly of him.

You moved to sit up but he toppled in bed next to you before you could. His bunk was small, barely enough space for the two of you, so he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest.

“Don’t go. Meant what I said.”

You blushed as you shimmied to turn your face to him. “Which part?”

“All of it. I’ve always wanted you. Not just for, you know,” he stumbled, seeming suddenly embarrassed.

“Sex?”

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna complain about that part,” he winked, before pulling you into him again, resting his head on top of yours. “I want to… care for you. In every way. You really take my breath away, always have.” He pressed a kiss against your hair, and you pressed closer to him in return.

“Then you’ll have me. For as long as I’m here and then some.” 

The two of you stayed like this into the night, wrapped up in each other’s arms, tangled limb to limb. Soon enough the lull of his heart had drifted you into sleep, and he did his best to shield you from the prying eyes and loud noises of the rest of the Batchers as they returned from the market, just as he swore to himself that he’d shield you from anything that threatened to take you from them, from him.

His girl he had said. And he had meant it.

[missredherring]

Someone Who Calls Me Baby

Dieter Bravo x Javi Gutierrez

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.4k

Contents: SFW. established mmfm relationship. sugar daddy/baby dynamics. small panic attack. anxiety. fluff.

Summary: He shakes his hands down at his sides, but it does nothing to expel any of the nervous energy running through him: his fingers still tingle as he taps them together and a faint ringing starts in his ears. 

When he scoops up his phone to reread the text from his agent the message hasn’t changed.

He hasn’t gotten the role in a while.

A/N: Uh... well. The bts pics of Pedro on set for The Materialists happened and an idea was floated around about having multiple Sugar Daddies... and somehow I came up with this idea of Dieter only being able to sustain his position as a Daddy for so long until he too became a Baby.

I'll probably explore this quartet again when we learn more about the mysterious M, but this is the main idea that wanted to be written right now.

There are no spoilers for The Materialists, and as we don't even know his name yet, I've used "M" as a name placeholder.

Not beta read and lightly edited. All mistakes are my own.

@sp00kymulderr @freelancearsonist @covetyou

He didn’t get the role. 

Dieter tosses his phone onto the couch and stands up. The need to get away from the thing starts his pacing. As he walks around and around his living room, he fidgets with the colorful bracelet you’d made for him and tied so sweetly around his wrist the other day to replace the previous one that had fallen off. 

The story had potential and he did want to work with the director attached to it, so it’s disappointing to not be chosen for the role, but beyond that it forces him to think about his financial situation. No role means no income coming in for said role, and while he isn’t in the red Dieter hasn’t seen his bank account this low since before moving to Sherman Oaks. Any time he thinks about it too much he starts sweating. Like now. 

He shakes his hands down at his sides, but it does nothing to expel any of the nervous energy running through him: his fingers still tingle as he taps them together and a faint ringing starts in his ears. 

When he scoops up his phone to reread the text from his agent the message hasn’t changed.

He hasn’t gotten the role in a while.

He needs to be responsible and save money. Dieter knows this, he really does. Enough people have told him, begged him even, but it always slips his mind in that moment when his card comes out of his wallet and he feels like he could give you anything in the world. 

Maybe he could start a budget for himself, but what would he have left to spend on you? Nothing compared to what he has been recently, that’s for sure. No more self care days together at exclusive spas that provide you with the softest robes he’s ever felt in his life. No more trips to indie galleries where you pick out new pieces for his collection. No more deep dives into craft stores for whatever supplies you need for the new hobby you’re trying out. 

If he can’t keep up with the outings the others are taking you on would you still want to be with him? If he can’t provide for you financially, what use is he?

He can’t take you yachting around various European bodies of water like Javi can, or fuck you in the backseat of a luxury car without worrying about the seats because it’s leased like M can.

At most he can bring you with him as he goes back and forth between LA and New York City and make you wait on set or in a hotel while he works. 

He’ll have to move, sell his things, get a small apartment that he’ll probably have to share with roommates. Roommates. Him, Oscar-winner Dieter Bravo, living with the other struggling artists just waiting for the callback that will change their lives. If he ever gets a call back again. 

Fuck. The inside of his cheek is starting to bleed, the coppery tang bringing him out of his spiral a little. The thoughts are still there, still swirling around him and waiting to yank his feet out from under him again. 

He’s sober. For real this time. He promised everyone that he wouldn’t do hard drugs by himself anymore. The temptation for distraction is strong, but he knows letting you down would feel worse than this anxiety that’s crawling up his spine.

His phone goes off in his hand and the sound he makes is more of a sob than anything else. 

Javi’s face is staring back at him, his smile brighter than the sunset behind him when they’d all vacationed at his home in Majorca last summer. 

He has to hit the accept call button twice before it picks up.

“Dieter! I was reminded not once, but twice that you would be alone this weekend. How are you enjoying your alone time?”

Javi sounds so calm and affectionate; it’s the warm breeze that finally breaks through his weakened defenses. 

Dieter flops down onto the couch, switches the call to speaker, and buries his face into the cushions. The fabric of the cushion scratches at his face with his effort, but it must not be enough, because Javi makes a worried humming noise. 

Javi inhales and Dieter’s throat squeezes tight and he finally stops making embarrassing noises. 

This is it. Javi will finally tell him what they’ve all probably been talking about without him: that he doesn’t fit in with the group. He isn’t a real Sugar Daddy; he’s like those artificial sweeteners that try really hard to replicate the same sweet flavor but just can't get it right. They’ve all just been humoring him until they could find the right time to bring the subject up, and that time is now. 

“Not so good, hm?” Javi asks and he doesn't wait for a response this time. He launches into a detailed report of his day, which is almost over thanks to the magic of time zones. Business meeting after business meeting, followed by an inspection of a processing plant to a review a batch of oil made with new presses and centrifuges. 

A lot of the jargon goes over his head, but some of it’s sounding familiar and Dieter lets himself be soothed. He even turns off the speaker in favor of pressing the phone to his ear, making it feel like Javi’s right next to him.  

Javi finishes his one-sided conversation with the reminder that olive oil, even oil as good as his, shouldn’t be used a sexual lubricant. Then he goes quiet and lets the silence settle over the line.

Dieter inhales and his lungs don’t feel as crushed as they did before, so he turns his head to free his mouth from the cushion.

“Thanks.” 

“Of course,” Javi says and Dieter can just see the elegant shrug that usually accompanies the reassurance. “We’ll talk about whatever’s bothering you when we’re all together. Is that alright?”

Can you wait that long or do you need help right now?

“Yea.” Dieter says and almost believes it. The anxiety spiral has lost it’s momentum, but it’s still there, always there, at the back of his mind. 

“Good. I fucking love you, man.”

“Can you say that without the macho bullshit?” Dieter tries for a light tone and winces at what comes out of his mouth instead. No wonder he didn’t get the role this time if his acting is this rusty.

“I love you, Dieter.”

Dieter closes his eyes to better hear the statement. He knows. Javi’s more than a friend, but there’d always been a hesitancy in crossing that line. A nervousness to being left vulnerable and unrequited. This arrangement they all have together isn’t usual and what if Dieter’s the one that pushes them too far and breaks everything beyond repair? 

“One more.”

“I love you, baby.” Javi says with enough earnest sincerity that there’s no room for doubt.

It feels… really good to hear that coming from Javi. He’s said it to you many times himself. He’s heard the others tell you the same thing too, but to have it directed at him? He understands why you bloom under the words like a flower in the sun, as a warmth spreads through his chest and the anxiety fades away enough for him to think clearly and be more active in the conversion with Javi. 

“How did I get such greedy partners?” Javi clicks his tongue, the question more to himself than Dieter, and a weight lifts off Dieter’s shoulders. 

Javi sounds content, more amused than annoyed, and the cadence of his voice as he gives Dieter what he wants, what he needs, is steady and sure. Like he wants to give him those words as much as Dieter wants to take them. 

The call doesn’t last much longer; Javi really did just want to call and say hello, but he insists they can talk for as long as Dieter wants. As much as he’d like to keep Javi with him, he can hear the drag in his voice, so Dieter thanks him again and tells him to go to bed. 

When the call ends Dieter stares up at his ceiling, feeling drained but calm. He blinks when his phone chimes and checks the screen eagerly, hoping it might be a message from M or you. Ideally you’d both reach out and complete his little feel good moment. 

He’s only a little disappointed when it’s an email from his agent with more offers and scripts for him to look over.

[santacoppelia]

There is something about Shax! (A loving meta)

I have written it too fast and in Spanish, but I really love what happened with demons and Hell in general this season: while in S1 they were kind of "set dressing" and the only distinctive demons were the higher ups, s2 brought us Shax and Furfur, and gave us more insight into Hell, gave Eric a lot of opportunities to charm us, and we saw a lot of small-scale demons that were all different in their own ways.

From all of these things, most of my notes point to Shax. The character is amazing, partly because Miranda Richardson is a great actress, but also because she has some characteristics that made her pop (I'll use female pronouns because the character is so high femme). I talked about some of them in the meta about angels, but Shax definitely deserves their own post! As I've already covered her particular mix of ingenuity, lets get into their abilities and style!!

When talking about her style I'd divide it into looks and communication. All of her looks are SPECTACULAR. So proper, so high femme, so classy, so glam... She is into projecting a carefully curated image. I respect that in a demon, really. Even when in Hell, her form is only changed by the teeth: lots of them, and quite ferocious. I feel that the mix represents her in full: a prim and proper exterior with a wild interior.

The wild interior can be inferred from her communication style. Shax usually exaggerates Hell menace and power, as we can see with some of her phrases:

"disliked by Heaven, hunted and eliminated by Hell";

"Beelzebub is not happy with you",

"All the forces of Hell will declare war to your friend"

"legions of demons to storm the bookshop, killing everyone",

“we’ll make it in ferocity and dangerosity”,

"we’ll chase you" to Beelzebub…

She has even “formulated a plan”, a very violent, enormous, ridiculous overplayed plan, but she is so excited to see it into fruition. Most of these are empty threats (Beelzebub is never really angry at Crowley, and they downplay the menace of being chased with the fact that they are understaffed...) but it says a lot of things about how Shax sees herself and the role of Hell in all of this.

Shax has an interesting power: she seems to voice the negative talk anyone has to mock them. This was very evident with Maggie:

Don’t embarrass yourself in front of the woman you pathetically love.

You are nothing, you run a shop that nobody visits.

You are nobody.

Unable to pay the rent.

Dull.

Unloved and unlovable.

You’ll live and die a nobody.

Those are scary! I have a little theory about how each character has different powers (it is a longer text and I'm just writing this because I already had it almost done), and this Shax's power is fantastic. Have we noticed what she says to Aziraphale?

You are not Crowley's type (he confidently dismisses this on their first encounter, with just a raised eyebrow)

You are an outlaw, you have no protection

Crowley’s emotional support angel

The softest touch

The one who went native

you need more huge meals?

Should we send up the sous-chef (not sushi)?

There is a really insightful demonic ability at play in there.

I also found really funny how, without Crowley giving her advice about how to appear, she just appears THREE TIMES in front of Aziraphale and still make the “I’m just a stranded motorist hitchhiking”. She hasn’t still get how Earth works, and that makes her fun AND terrifying.

How will all of this play into S3? Especially now that she will probably be a Grand Duke of Hell (or just a Duke). I'm already enjoying it and it hasn't been written yet! *covers her eyes*