#where i spent a lot of time. as if it was my second home

[jayniks]

SEX NOTE (s.jy)

Your friend is jealous that, thanks to the book that HE gave you, you no longer pay attention to him, so he writes to you in that notebook in a fit of jealousy.

WC . 4,0k

PAIRING . childhoodfriend!jake x afab!reader

WARNINGS . smut (mdni), jealousy, Jay showing up, rudeness, Jay bothering you at first, awkwardness, Jake butting into your room.

SMUT WARNINGS . oral sex (f receiving), lots of kisses, assjob(idk if it's called that), manhandling, spanking, voyeurism (kinda), creampie.

< go back . next chapter >

Maybe it was a mistake coming home early, after all, no one wants to watch their childhood friend get fucked, specifically not jerk off to it either. Well, Jake is a nobody. He froze as he watched you get fucked from behind, though you two seemed pretty busy since you didn’t see or hear him come in. Jake would be lying if he said he didn’t just keep watching and spy on you.

The tent in his pants grew with every second he spent looking at you. Yeah, maybe you weren't moaning HIS name but something similar, so his imagination did the rest thinking you were saying it. He brought his hand inside his pants to 'caress' himself, thus releasing some tension that was coming from there. His palm ran up and down, applying pressure in certain places, feeling bigger with each squeeze. God, what a pervert.

Jake's heart raced as he unzipped his pants, the soft fabric rustling against his fingers, stirring up his lust, but also his guilt. He couldn't help but feel guilty for spying on and nearly pleasuring himself with his childhood friend and roommate. "This is wrong," he thought, "but damn it feels so good."

He leaned back on the doorknob just enough to peek out and see the scene I described in my previous post (lol, self-promotion??? Yeah) while he unzipped his pants quietly enough to not be heard, although I don't think anyone was going to hear him with how loud your moans were.

Well, I won't digress any further, Jake guided his thumb and index finger delicately from the base to the tip to wrap them around where it started. He proceeded to wrap the rest of his hand around what was left of the shaft to begin his downward and upward movements on his member, almost in rhythm with Jay's thrusts. His imagination was in charge of making his movements resemble those of your partner to fantasize that it was HIM who was fucking you.

Jake's breathing came in ragged gasps with each rhythmic stroke, matching the erotic sounds from the next room. His mind raced, imagining every position his friend was in would be him doing it, fueling the fire of desire burning within him. "I'm being selfish," he thought, guilt eating away at him as he continued to pleasure himself, though the guilt wasn't enough to keep his hand away from his cock. With each movement Jake felt himself getting closer to his release, he could feel the tension in his balls, a sensation that spread throughout his groin like wildfire. With a sharp inhale and biting down on his fist, a hot stream erupted from the tip of his twitching member. His body shuddered, feeling weak and spent as he finally calmed down.

After that, Jake's chest heaved as he caught his breath. He felt a mix of relief and embarrassment, his gaze fixed on the door to the next room. 'Holy shit's' echoed in his mind, his hand still wrapped around his exhausted member. I think the post-nut clarity hit him hard enough that he ran out grabbing things off the floor and leaving the apartment.

Shitty book, this was all his fault. Well, technically it was his fault, he had given the book to his friend after finding it on the floor, he could have kept it himself and been the one to stick it up to whoever crossed his mind, but he preferred to give it to his best friend... oh, that sounds like jealousy. Although Jake obviously wasn't jealous, no no. If he was jealous, would he have a problem with using the notebook he found himself? Perhaps—

Ding!

This gave him an idea, it was like for the first time in a long time he was thinking with his cock and his brain at the same time. He went back to his shared apartment and sat on the couch waiting for his friend in silence, after all, it was his right as the 'owner' of the notebook.

It didn't take you long to go downstairs to get a glass of water, although of course, it took you a while to get down the stairs without staggering. When you turned around you saw Jake sitting on the couch with a playful look on his face, you were about to ask why he was there when he spoke first — "I bought the wrong ticket, at the end it was for next week, although I arrived a little tired, what about you?", smiling with a mischief unknown to you. You couldn't help but frown at his answer. Something in his tone made you hesitate, but your body was too sore to think clearly. The throbbing pain in your gut and the small temblors in your legs made anything, even a conversation with Jake, seem like a monumental task.

“Are you sure it was a mistake?” you asked hoarsely, surprising yourself with how you said it, so you brought a hand to your forehead to pretend your state was due to something more. He shrugged, smiling with the same carefree expression as always while fiddling with the hem of his jacket. “Well, let’s just say I wanted to spend some time with you too. Is that wrong?”

It took a few seconds for your mind to process his words. Something in his tone, in his smile, made you feel a pang of unease, but the pain in your muscles clouded any attempt at analysis. — "Jake, I'm not in the mood for jokes. I feel horrible, I feel like I'm overwhelmed." He let out a small laugh and stood up from the chair with an almost rehearsed movement. — "You know what would help you? Going out for some fresh air. A short walk. I swear it feels like magic for your overwhelm."

You leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, eyes narrowed. “I don’t even have the strength to go down the stairs, much less go outside.” Jake approached with slow, almost calculated steps. He placed a hand on your shoulder, and although the gesture seemed friendly, there was something in his gaze that you couldn’t decipher. “Trust me, okay? Just a few minutes outside, and I promise that when you come back you’ll feel better. Besides, I can prepare something in the meantime.”

The convincing tone in his voice, mixed with your exhaustion, made you let your guard down a bit. Maybe you did need some fresh air, or at least a few minutes away from the world you had created in your room. With a heavy sigh and no energy left to argue, you accepted his proposal. Jake helped you put on a light jacket, making sure to arrange it carefully on your shoulders.

— "Just a few minutes," you promised, as you slipped on your shoes, swaying slightly. He held your arm with unexpected gentleness, smiling a smile that seemed sincere. — "Exactly, don't strain yourself too much. I'll be here waiting when you get back." You saw him open the door with an almost theatrical gesture, bowing slightly as if you were a queen crossing a threshold. Despite the pain in and out your body, you let out a soft laugh. Jake stood in the doorway, watching you disappear down the street with a relaxed expression... until you were far enough away.

He closed the door with a soft click, and all the kindness on his face vanished. His eyes took on a calculating gleam, and his lips curved into a half-smile. Wasting no time, he ran for the stairs, taking them two steps at a time until he reached your room. When he opened the door, he was met with the chaos you’d expect after fucking. The bed was unmade, with the sheets hanging almost to the floor, as if someone had fought a battle, only instead of blood it was other fluids. A nightstand was cluttered with napkins, string, and candy wrappers. The desk on the other side was just as chaotic: a crumpled pile of papers, a carelessly closed laptop, and a couple of uncapped pens rolling off the edge.

On the shelf, between books and small stuffed animals, there were albums and boxes that looked like they had been put up in a hurry. Some posters of your favorite singers adorned the walls, slightly crooked, as if they had been put up a long time ago and no one had bothered to adjust them. On the floor, clothes lay in piles; some items still looked clean, but others clearly needed to be torn off in a hurry. Oh freaky you.

Jake moved quickly, checking every corner. He started with the desk, picking up papers and moving the laptop carefully. Nothing. He frowned and moved to the nightstand, opening drawers and rummaging impatiently. Nope, also nothing. Finally, his eyes landed on the bed. “Sure, the usual one,” he muttered to himself, pulling back the sheets and searching through the folds. It took him a few minutes, but he finally found what he was looking for: the black notebook. The Sex Note. He held it in his hands, looking at it like it was a newly won trophy. His fingers slid across the cover, caressing the letters etched into it.

— “So here it was…” — he sighed, letting a grim smile cross his face. His eyes shone with a mix of triumph and darkness. The kind expression he had shown you before vanished completely, replaced by something much more sinister. He opened the notebook slowly, flipping through the first few pages as a barely contained laugh escaped his throat. His mind was already beginning to make plans, he coul keep the notebook permanently- IS THAT THE NAME OF HIS FAVOURITE SINGER? — "Damn, Heeseung? I guess you really wanted your 'y/n' moment," he whispered to himself, closing the notebook with a thud and staring at the door, as if he could see you there, vulnerable and defenseless. He knew that tonight would be the start of something much bigger... probably.

You returned home after a long walk, feeling much better. The fresh air had cleared your mind and soothed your headache, though you still felt slightly dizzy. As you opened the door, the warm aroma of food enveloped you like a comforting welcome. Jake was in the kitchen, stirring something in a pan. Hearing you enter, he looked up and gave you a smile that seemed too perfect, almost as if he had been rehearsing it. — "You’re just in time. I thought some hot food would do you good.” You blinked, surprised by the gesture. “You cooking? Since when are you so considerate?”

He chuckled softly, serving the contents of the pan onto two plates. “Don’t get used to it. I’m just being a good friend.” You sat down at the table as he placed a plate of rice and stir-fried chicken in front of you, accompanied by hot tea. Even though you didn’t have much of an appetite, you decided to eat, silently thanking him for the effort he had made.

Silence filled the room, interrupted only by the sound of silverware and the news on the television. A female voice said in a serious tone, “Singer Lee Heeseung, known for his outstanding career, has reported feeling unwell over the past few days. Close sources say the artist also mentioned experiencing a strange episode of memory loss, stating, “It’s like I forgot an entire day.”

Your fingers paused on your fork, and you felt a strange pang of nervousness in your chest. You looked at the screen, but it didn’t show any more details. The news quickly changed to another topic, but you couldn’t get that information out of your head. Jake, on the other hand, continued eating calmly. Well, at least until you heard him laugh. It was a low, almost restrained sound, as if he was trying not to let it out completely. You looked up at him, frowning. “What are you laughing at?” you asked, puzzled.

He lowered his fork, still covering his mouth as if to hold back his laughter, though he couldn't quite hide the malice in his expression. — "Nothing, nothing..." —he answered at first, but his tone only made you feel more uneasy. You set the fork down on the table with a soft thud, looking directly at him. Finally, he looked up at you, and though his smile was still on his face, his eyes had a gleam that you couldn't interpret.

— "You'll understand in a few hours." His answer left you silent. A feeling of unease ran through you like a chill, but Jake simply resumed his food, as if he hadn't just said something that left you with more questions than answers.

The awkwardness lingered as they finished eating in silence. Jake, acting surprisingly helpful, stood up first and began clearing away the plates. “Leave it, I’ll wash them,” he said with a carefree smile, taking everything over to the sink. You hesitated for a moment, but eventually relented. “Okay, thanks…” you mumbled, still distracted by what had just happened at the table.

Taking advantage of the fact that he was busy, you decided to quickly go up to your room. Your head was still reeling from the feeling that something wasn't right. When you opened the door, a shock ran through you from head to toe: the mess was even worse than when you had left it. Clothes that had previously been piled up in a corner were now thrown all over the floor; the papers on your desk were more jumbled than ever, some had even fallen to the floor; and the sheets on your bed were wrinkled in a way you didn't remember leaving them.

Someone had been there.

Your heart began to pound as your eyes darted around the room. That’s when you remembered: the notebook. You ran to the bed, frantically searching through the sheets and pillows. Then you moved to the desk, throwing papers to the floor in search of the one item that couldn’t be missing. Panic grew with every corner you searched without success. When you stopped, out of breath, your gaze drifted to the wall next to your desk. There, stuck in a disturbing order, were two post-its. You frowned as you moved closer to read them.

The first one said in large, clear letters:

"You're fucked."

The second, just below, added:

"Literally."

You froze for a moment. Those had Jay’s signature on them. No like, he had literally put his signature in the corner of the 2nd note. You shook your head, trying to calm yourself, and reached out to rip the post-its off the wall, but a sound behind you stopped you. “Did you find what you were looking for?” Jake’s voice, soft and controlled, echoed from the doorway. You turned immediately, feeling the air grow thicker. Jake was there, leaning against the door frame with an expression that was a mix of amusement and something darker. In his hands, he held the black notebook.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Is this what you were so worried about?” he asked calmly, lifting the notebook just a little for emphasis. His smile was unsettling, almost mocking, and his eyes seemed to watch you with an intensity that made you feel naked. You didn’t know what to answer. You just stood there, paralyzed, as Jake slowly entered the room, closing the door behind him.

Jake tossed the notebook towards you in a casual motion, as if it were any ordinary notebook. The black object landed on the mattress right in front of you, and though you wanted to remain calm, your hands shook slightly as you reached for it. “Read it,” he ordered, his tone firm, but with a hint of mischievous amusement. You frowned, your gaze alternating between him and the notebook. Reluctantly, you opened it, your eyes scanning the words written in impeccably neat handwriting:

"Exactly at 21:28, (____) will be in her room, nervous about hearing news about heeseung, and then start feeling inexplicably hot".

You paused, feeling your face begin to heat up. You forced yourself to look at Jake, who now had a grin so wide that his eyes seemed to sparkle with pure mischief.

— "What does this mean?" you asked, your voice coming out more breathy than you would have liked. Jake shrugged, taking a couple of steps towards you as he shoved his hands into his pockets. — "It means exactly what you read," he replied matter-of-factly. "You just have to wait, right?" His tone was light, but there was something in his expression that made you feel like you were being part of a game whose true terms you didn't know.

Just like how it was described, your body temperature began to rise, especially in the middle of your thighs. You tried to cover it up by sitting up on the bed, but your best friend sat down next to you. He leaned in just slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. You could feel the weight of his gaze, as if he was stripping away every thought you were trying to hide. “Are you going to keep pretending you don’t know what’s going on?” he murmured, his voice deep and almost hypnotic. The distance between you both seemed to shrink with every word, and even though you wanted to move, something kept you anchored in place.

“W-what are you doing?” you asked in a whisper, air escaping your lips as your eyes locked with his. “Using the notebook I found, what else?” he replied with an eerie calm, his words accompanied by a smile that seemed to hold more secrets than you were prepared to hear. His hand slid gently down your cheek, and though you wanted to pull away, you found yourself unable to move, trapped by the intensity of his gaze. Your breathing became ragged, and before you could even process what you were doing, your fingers closed around his, guiding him in a movement that lit a dangerous spark in his eyes.

The change in his expression was almost imperceptible, but when his lips found yours, they did so with a softness that took you by surprise. The kiss was slow, almost reverent, but every movement of his mouth against yours carried an unspoken promise, one that you felt in every fiber of your being.

A soft sigh escaped you as his hands found your waist, laying you down with a gentleness that contrasted with the intensity you felt growing in the air. When his lips left yours, a momentary chill took over you, but it was replaced by the heat of his kisses descending down your neck, each one leaving an invisible mark that seemed to burn into your skin. The brush of his face against the fabric of your shirt made your breathing stop for an instant. Everything about him seemed calculated, but also inevitable, as if each of his movements were written in advance... oh right, he wrote them.

Even though his kisses felt like heaven and you loved feeling like a delicate doll, there was a part of you that was calling out to him, that was crying out for him. You leaned on his shoulders and applied a little pressure to get him to move down, eliciting a playful giggle from him, granting your request. He kissed the band of your panties before pulling them back with his mouth, a gesture that made you giggle softly and then caress his cheek, a laugh that turned into a breathy sigh when his tongue came into contact with your clit. You threw your head back as his head moved closer to your core, kissing and sucking on everything he could.

You felt his gaze even though you couldn't keep your eyes open for long. Jake felt this as approval to stick two of his fingers inside you while he sucked on your clit, making you scream even louder than you already were. Your sounds and movements only made Jake smile more, who couldn't hide it, nor could he hide the sighs of satisfaction he let out every time he swallowed a bit of your essence, which made him look like a prisoner enjoying his last meal.

It didn't take you long to reach your climax with all the effort your friend was putting into it, and boy was it a powerful orgasm, because you tried to push him away complaining that "it was too much", but he buried himself further into your cunt until you couldn't take it anymore and you released, wetting his face and almost drowning him a bit in the process, despite him insisting that he didn't want to pull away.

You sigh deeply, your breathing still ragged from the intense orgasm you just had. You gently caress Jake’s cheeks, looking into his eyes with a mix of satisfaction and desire. “That didn’t seem scripted,” you whisper with a mischievous smile on your lips. Pulling him close, you kiss him passionately, savoring your own taste in his mouth. Jake kisses you back with the same intensity, pulling you closer to his body, making your tongues dance together as if they already knew each other.

His hands begin to explore your body eagerly, caressing every curve and corner. He stops especially at your ass, squeezing and massaging your buttocks with desire, he gently pinches your skin feeling the silky texture of your flesh. "You are fucking delicious" — Jake says as he breaks away from the kiss, a mischievous smile on his lips, — "I love your ass, it's perfect," he growls in a hoarse voice of desire. "I want to see it closer" — he sighs as his hands guide your body until you are forced to get on all fours for him, exposing your ass in all its splendor. "You are a goddess, (___), I could admire this ass forever" - Jake murmurs, giving you a soft spank that echoes in the room.

You smirk as you move back a little to rub your ass against his clothed erection, biting your lip when you hear his ragged breathing as his hands caress your waist. Jake wastes no time in freeing himself from his imprisonment called “clothes”, throwing his top away and kicking the pants and boxers off somewhere in the mess of your room.

He gives his member a few pumps before sliding it between your wet lips. “Are you afraid to put it in?” you say in a mocking tone accompanied by a giggle that is soon cut off by a thrust. God, you felt every vein on his member at the same time as the sponginess of his tip. Nothing but needy moans and the occasional babble that you didn’t even understand came out of your mouth.

"What happened?" — Jake asked, although more than a question it was a mockery, — "come on, mock me again" he almost spat as he gave slow but deep thrusts. "Is that what you want Jakey? For me to m-mock you?" — You laughed softly, answering him with what little of your mind you had left just to tease him. You began to move your hips a little to feel more friction, which was a serious mistake since it made Jake hit the exact angle that made you scream and left your legs shaking. "There? You like it there? Shit, you're squeezing me so good, you're doing it so well" — he pants as he tries to keep the rhythm that allows him to hit your spot. What a gentleman.

You tried to tell him you were close but all you could do was mumble 'i'm's, though Jake understood, lowering one of his hands from your hip to your clit where he drew slow circles on it, a complete contrast to the thrusts he was giving you. It wasn't long before you were soaking his member with your release.

It wasn't long before your friend followed suit and spilled inside you, giving a few extra thrusts to make sure he had emptied himself.

You both stayed in that position, trying to control your breathing to calm down a bit.

The silence was broken when Jake sighed — "So, round 2?"

Taglist:

@nshmrarki @cha0thicpisces @seokseokjinkim @rikisave @strxwbloody @nyfwyeonjun @enhalusional @kgneptun @fleurixzs @simpjay @jakeswifez @lxsunshine @zvxba

Enha Taglist only:

@lilyuwon @myywonie @ratedjaeyoon

©: made by jayniks on tumblr, do not copy or adapt my works on any platform without my consent.

This chapter is dedicated to my irl friend that helped writing the smut scene

[littlestarbigsky]

I saw that you have Fic Requests open, and that you write for Stevepop... Would you ever write a Stevepop fic where Steve is helping Sodapop with his asthma?

- 🍀

i swear some of yall are in my walls bc i got this request right when i started posting about asthmatic soda so yea this was my jam anon thanks for the ask🫶🏻

i need winter break to go on forever ugh i love all this free timeeeeee

hope this is okay🩷

steve had barely made it out of the bullpen before soda was tackling him in a hug.

“you were amazing!” soda gasped, not caring that steve was sweaty and dirty and about fifty people could see them clear as day.

“i told you i would be,” steve wrapped his arms around soda’s waist and lifted him a few inches off the ground. “you worry too much about me darlin’, i’m fine.”

before they could get out of the way, a horse rode by in the pen next to them, kicking up a massive cloud dust and dirt, causing both of them to cough and gag for a few seconds. the second he got his wits about him, steve rubbed his eyes and grabbed soda’s arm to pull him away from the worst of it.

soda was still coughing as steve pulled him up next to ponyboy and johnny and the rest of the gang on the bleachers watching the rodeo.

“hey, you calm down,” steve coached him quietly, gesturing for him to sit down with ponyboy, but soda shook his head.

“i’m fine,” soda put his hand up and before steve could say anything, he was bolting off in another direction with two-bit to watch another event. steve felt the anxiety building in his chest. he nudged pony’s shoulder roughly.

“give me his inhaler, kid,” steve said to pony, gesturing to the kid’s backpack that was sitting on the bench in front of them. “i don’t like how much he was coughing.”

pony looked at steve nervously, “you think he’s gonna need it? should i get darry?”

steve shook his head, his eyes still trained on soda, “i don’t know, i’ll keep an eye on him for now. i’ll be with him for the rest of the night, it’s better for me to have it. don’t go buggin’ superman just yet, though.”

pony dug around in his bag for a moment before producing the inhaler, nervously handing it off to steve. steve ran after soda and two-bit, catching them just as they both won cowboy hats at one of the carnival games. soda howled with loud laughter, no trace of a wheeze in his voice, and steve felt something loosen in his chest.

they carried on goofing off until the sun began to set, which with work in the morning was steve and soda’s cue to start to head home. they had spent so much time laughing and fooling around that steve almost forgot about the inhaler stashed in his pocket. soda would cough a little every now and again, but it was a rodeo, there was dust everywhere. if something was wrong, they’d know.

“no way!” soda laughed as they walked through the parking lot. “you really think those soc boys are gonna bring that mustang to our shitty little shop?”

“that’s what marcia told two-bit… they seemed pretty pissed with how much it was gonna cost to get it fixed on the west side,” steve laughed. “plus, their girlfriends were going on and on about how handsome you are.”

“too bad they don’t know i’m off the market,” soda glanced around to make sure they were alone, then leaned in and kissed steve quickly.

steve wanted to appreciate the kiss, he really did, but something else he heard caught his attention.

his brows furrowed, “honey, you’re wheezing.”

soda rolled his eyes, “no, i’m not, stevie, you’re just worryin’ because of that dust cloud earlier.”

steve sighed, pulling the inhaler out of his pocket, “humor me and keep this on ya while i drive home?”

soda didn’t take it, walking to the other side of steve’s car and climbing into the passenger seat. steve started to drive them home, the light outside the car turning steadily purple, stealing glances at soda every few minutes.

they were a few minutes away from soda’s house when it started, and it happened so fast that they couldn’t have been ready for it if they wanted to be. soda let out a series of harsh, wet sounding coughs. steve’s head whipped onto him, and he could tell from the look on his eyes that they needed to be worried. steve tried to reach into his pocket and grab the inhaler, but between his seatbelt and trying to keep the car on the road, he couldn’t fish it out of his pocket. he slammed his foot down on the gas, searching frantically for a place to pull over.

“i know, baby, just try to keep breathing for me, i’m trying to find us a spot to stop.”

eventually, he managed to find a vacant-looking lot, where he pulled over and yanked his seatbelt off, ripping the inhaler from his pocket.

“hang on, i’ve got it, just one second.”

soda was still practically coughing up a lung, his cheeks bright red and his eyes brimming with tears. steve slid over in the bench seat of the car, pulling soda into his arms as he popped off the cap and got it into soda’s mouth.

“big breath for me, okay?”

soda looked up at him with huge glassy brown eyes, eyes that clearly said how much pain he was in, how he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to. god, steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen soda so scared.

“i know, baby, i know it hurts but please try for me,” steve pleaded through a growing lump in his throat and tears in his eyes, holding soda as tight as he could to his chest.

steve counted them down from three, puffing the inhaler at the same time soda took as deep a breath as he could manage. he coughed weakly, and steve pulled him closer, tucking soda’s head under his chin and sliding a cold hand up under his shirt to place it over soda’s chest.

“stay with me, breathe with me, it’s gonna be okay, i’ve got you,” steve mumbled, pressing soft kisses to soda’s hair and trying his best to keep his own breathing steady and calm.

after giving soda another puff a few minutes later, he had managed to stop coughing, but steve could still feel his chest contracting and he could still hear a wheeze in his lungs. he sat up a bit so soda could see his face, “you think you’re okay to get home? we can wait if you aren’t.”

soda nodded silently.

steve sighed, “i want you to use your nebulizer when we get there, i know you don’t like it, but i just want to be safe before you go to sleep.”

steve had been expecting soda to protest, he usually had a lot of trouble sleeping after a treatment, but soda nodded again and started to buckle himself back in. they drove the rest of the way home quietly, and when they parked the car outside the curtis house, steve came around to get soda into a piggyback to carry him inside.

“damn princess,” he mumbled, but soda could hear the smile on his face. soda just nosed his ear sweetly and kissed his temple gently, squeezing him a little tighter for a moment.

steve discarded soda on the couch when he kicked the door open, “stay there, i’ll bring it out here.”

soda sat and waited patiently for steve to get back. he could still feel the tightness in his chest, and he knew darry would probably smack him if he had an asthma attack and didn’t do a treatment after the fact, especially if his inhaler hadn’t completely taken care it. it was probably the first time in months that he had been quiet for more than a few minutes, but he didn’t really feel like he could get words out if he had wanted to.

steve came back into the room with their biggest and comfiest blanket, a glass of water, and soda’s nebulizer.

“call me a princess again,” soda giggled.

steve leaned over and kissed him sweetly, throwing the blanket over him, “don’t tempt me, you know i’m right.”

steve finished setting up the nebulizer, starting the treatment and handing soda the mouthpiece. he crawled up next to soda and pulled him back into his side, soda tossing the blanket over both of them and snuggling into steve as he breathed in his medicine, his lungs finally starting to open back up.

he leaned his head against steve’s chest and whispered, “you know i’m not gonna sleep for three days now, right?”

steve sighed fondly, tucking soda into him, “i know.”

[faggotry-enjoyer]

U of M sounds like a nightmare rn. I’m an MSU graduate who wants do my PhD in geophysics and I’ve considered U of M bc they do have a good geology department but I think I’m just gonna uhhh Not Go There. I haven’t really heard what’s up with MSU but I know we had an SJP chapter 🥴 So I suspect it’s not quiet. But U of M’s antisemitism makes HEADLINES, stay safe

It's really more of a mixed bag. The antisemitism here is very real and very scary, you'll never catch me denying that. But it's not the whole story.

On October 7th this year, there may have been an SJP protest at Rackham. But the Diag was like a mini Hostages Square all day long, and there were hundreds of people at the memorial in the evening. Hundreds of people saying a prayer for the state of Israel and mourner's kaddish, hundreds of people singing acheinu and hatikvah. A week or so prior, 500 people gathered on the diag in support of Jewish students and our right to be here. And I can't speak to the latter, as I wasn't there, but on the 7th campus security was by us all day to make sure nothing happened.

If I recall correctly, about 15% of the student body here is Jewish. We have a very active Hillel, as well as a Jewish Resource Center and a Chabad. Even when campus is scary, we've got each other and we've got a lot of each other. There is fear, but there's hope too.

[parfaitblogs]

(totally not based on my day) but a simple request for spencer helping reader out with a bunch of chores bc she's overwhelmed with life and she decides to thank him with like the quote "best head of his life" and he's like "its okay you dont have to do that" and she's responds "but i am anyways"

it will come back ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer reid helps you when you're (very) overwhelmed, and you might need to return the favour.  pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: comfort & smut (18+ mdni) tags: oral (m receiving). praise. established relationship. reader's overwhelmed overstimulated overworked... very enthusiastic head giver!reader. use of honey and angel. they love each other a lot. i love them a lot. i don’t think there’s d/s dynamics but if there are it’s soft dom spencer (nobody’s shocked). word count: 3.1k a/n: thank u sooo much for reading my brain ily i need to give spencer reid head asap. new format/layout for requests sort of its the same as my normal post layout... do we like... i sure freaking hope so. as always lmk if u liked this or even if u didn't but preferably if u did!!

You were exhausted. For three weeks straight, you had been working nonstop, with a wondrous total of eight hours in between shifts. You were hardly sleeping, you had hardly had a social life, hell, you never even had time to enjoy the simple pleasures of an everything shower. You felt groggy, and cramped, and everyday felt like an awful repeat of the last. A nightmare that never ended. 

Never mind the fact that you hadn't seen your boyfriend.

Always home too late to be with him in the evenings, and up too early to get coffee with him before your days started. Spencer was so patient with you, regardless. He knew it would end eventually, and he would get his girlfriend back. It was just for the month, was what you would text each other whenever the other began feeling particularly lonely. He didn't even like texting, but the time for a simple phone call wasn't available to you anymore. 

And your apartment. Every time you stepped into it you swore a new dirty dish materialised in your sink, or a new pile of clothes sat themselves in your bedroom floor. Which was odd, because you had rotated between the same two outfits for the last eighteen days — your work uniform, or your pyjamas. 

You were overwhelmed with it all. Even as your hectic work life came to an end, and you were waking up to the sunlight pouring into your room, instead of an alarm clock while the moon was still up. You were acutely aware of the mess of your apartment, and just the thought of it all left you lying motionless in your bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

Tears stung your vision as you felt the seconds tick into minutes, and nothing happened. Attempting to will yourself to get up, and yet you simply couldn't. Exhausted beyond belief, with limbs sinking into the mattress and melding to the sheets. 

You faintly heard the click of your front door lock, and if you had any more motivation in you, you'd probably get up to double check it was the only other person who had a key to your apartment, and not a burglar. Thankfully, you didn't have to, for Spencer was calling out your name, gently.

Too exhausted to even reply and alert him of where you were, you lay still until he had found you in your bedroom, his bad dropping by the doorway, feet shuffling against the rug. 

"Good afternoon," he said, finding a seat on the edge of your bed, hand resting atop your thigh, gentle circles being rubbed into the skin. 

"Is it already afternoon?" you asked him, voice quiet. 

"Yeah. How long have you been awake in bed?" 

"I don't know," you answered, voice awfully small as you felt the thick weight of frustration with yourself blanket over you. "I need to get up. The apartment's a mess."

"It's allowed to be," he said. "You've been doing sixteen hour days."

"Yeah, but I'm not today. I have the day off."

"Your first day off in weeks. I'd be concerned if you'd spent it productively."

You stared at him, unsure if the irritation that settled in your bones was because of his insistence that you not doing a thing was okay, or your exhaustion. Logically, it would be the latter. You did know that, deep down. 

Upon seeing your eyes delve into something a little more desperate, he sighed, hand sliding up to your own, gently tugging you up into a seated position. His eyebrows knitted together at your exhausted look, and you could see his brain ticking behind his eyes.

"Do you want to split the tasks?" he finally asked.

"You don't have to," you shrugged your shoulders. "It's my mess."

"Honey, you're already overwhelmed, and all you've done is wake up," he answered, thumb drawing circles on the top of your hand that he still seemed to have clasped within his own. "Let me help."

"It's really gross."

"I've seen mutilated dead bodies."

"I'd argue my kitchen sink is worse."

"Oh would you?" his eyebrows shot up, lips twitching in amusement, that you found solace in, distracting you slightly from your overstimulated mind. "Do you want to have a shower?"

"Yes," you nodded your head, brain ticking over all the personal hygiene tasks you had been neglecting over the past few weeks. 

"How about you go shower, I'll start cleaning up, and you come join me when you're feeling better?"

Despite your aversion to anybody but yourself tackling the mess of your apartment, you knew better than to deny Spencer any further — he had set his mind on helping you. 

Sighing, you nodded your head in defeat. He had coaxed you up off the bed, gotten you to the bathroom, even found you a fresh set of clothes to wear, and waited with you for the water to warm up. It was really only once he was absolutely sure you had gotten into the shower, did he leave you be, and disappeared from the bathroom. 

Eventually, the apartment had been cleaned, with efforts from the both of you getting it to where it now was. 

You were a lot less exhausted, and your brain was a lot less fried now that you didn't have a million tasks catalogued within it to get done. 

You were lying in your freshly made bed — courtesy of Spencer. Your head on his chest, fidgeting with one of his hands as he used the other to wave around as he rambled about something you were no longer following. It had started as a simple explanation for why you had been so overwhelmed in the first place. Which you had asked as a rhetoric, but didn't have the heart to stop him when he began explaining. 

"You're not listening, are you?" he asked, free hand poking your side and emitting an involuntary laugh from you at the feeling. 

"I am, I am! I'm just not following anymore."

"Sorry."

"It's okay," you replied, turning and poking your head up to be level with his. "I like hearing you speak, anyways. Doesn't matter if I don't understand."

He only hummed as a response, and the two of you stared at each other for a beat, before you were breaking out into a smile. 

"Hi," you chirped. 

"Hello," he answered, perhaps a little too amused by your sudden energy. "Would you like something?"

"A kiss?"

"After all that labour I just put in for you?" he mused, but he was already lifting his head to brush his lips against yours, and was most certainly not pulling away when you eagerly connected them properly. 

You pulled back after a few moments, searching his face. "Do you want something for all that labour?"

His hand trailed up your spine, fingertips triggering a shiver to run up your back. "What do you have in mind?"

"I could give you the best head of your life."

He was clearly not expecting that as an offer, perhaps because you never had offered such a thing before. It wasn't even something you had talked about, which was bizarre (in your mind), considering he was quite enthusiastic about using his mouth on you. 

"You don't need to do that," he shook his head, but with how close your faces were, you could see the instant dilation in his pupils. 

"What if I want to?" 

"Then that's very nice of you, but my point still stands," he replied.

"Spencer, let me do something in return," your voice was nothing short of a whine, and if he was any less turned on, maybe it wouldn't have made his firm footed denial falter. Maybe you knew that.

"You could do anything but that."

"So a handjob?"

"Or that."

"You're such an awful liar," you huffed. "I can see your pupils dilating. I know you're turned on by the thought of it."

"It could just be because I'm looking at you," he answered, voice hoarse, no doubt from the arousal he was attempting to deny was there. "Romantic attraction triggers the same response in our hormones."

"But it's not."

He fell silent for a few moments, before he allowed his resolve to slip, shaking his head in agreement with you. "No. It's not."

"See! It's okay if you want it. I'm quite literally offering myself to you," you spouted. 

His eyes fluttered shut, and he exhaled through his nose, words coming out through almost gritted teeth. "That's not a sentence you should be saying."

"Why not?"

His only response was to say your name chidingly, and when he reopened his eyes, he was met with the shit-eating grin on your face. 

"Brat," he mumbled, lips seeking yours once again.

"Who gives really good head," you hummed against his mouth. "And would really love to show you."

"If you're insisting—"

"Which I am," you quickly interjected, staring back at him as yet another amused smile stretched across his lips. Then, he was nodding his head, and you were quite cheerfully kissing him all over again.

It wasn't that you kissed him with much fever at all — in fact, you were melting into his lips with a gentle hum. It was simply that he was kissing you back with a desperation you should be accustomed to. You weren't. 

Every kiss you received from him always felt like he was chipping away at your soul, claiming a piece of it. Maybe he was.

You mewled when his teeth nipped at your lower lip, and he was quick to take the opportunity of slipping his tongue into your mouth. Though, alerted by his sudden control over the situation between you two, you reluctantly pulled your face away from his before it could go much further. 

"Excuse me," he breathed out, scoldingly, only to be met with your hundredth grin of the day as you descended down his body. He'd take it — you smiling, albeit cockily, was much more rewarding than the concerned look you had been sporting for the majority of the afternoon. 

"I don't do this very often," you told him as you lifted your gaze to his, absentmindedly tugging his pants down his legs. 

"I hope not. You've never done it for me, and we've been together for quite a while."

"You know what I mean," you grumbled, and he was forced to poke his tongue into the inside of his cheek to keep the smile off his face. 

"Is this comfortable for you?" he then asked, having noticed your constant adjustments of your positioning between his legs. From nerves or comfortability, he didn't know. 

"Um. I guess so," you replied. "I've never done it lying down."

"We can do it however you prefer to do it, angel."

"Oh. Okay. Cool," you mumbled, sitting up straight and grabbing his hands within your own, tugging him over towards the edge of the bed. 

You sank to your knees on the rug, tapping his knees with your hands to part them so you could situate yourself comfortably between them. 

You were a vision if he'd ever seen one, and you weren't even doing anything. Perhaps you had noticed the effect you had on him, or maybe you were just largely enthusiastic about doing something for him, and only him. 

Your tongue darted out to lick your lips, eyes flickering up to meet his face, and if this was the last sight he saw before he died, he would have no complaints. 

"Have you ever gotten head before?" you mumbled, eyes fixated on him as your hands trailed up the sides of his thighs, resting at the waistband of his boxers. 

"Yes."

"Okay," you whispered, quietly, tapping his hips so he could lift them, and you rolled his boxers down his skin.

"Okay?" he parroted. 

"Okay," you confirmed with a nod of your head. "I just wanted to know if this is going to be completely new for you or not."

As you spoke, your fingertips dragged along his inner thighs, lips following soon after, kissing up the skin. 

"I don't think that's going to matter, honey," he answered, voice breathless. 

You smiled, not needing to ask what he meant. You lifted your head back up, studying his face. He gave you a nod, a silent confirmation to allow you to go further, and you took a beat to compose yourself. It's not like he would be mad at you if it sucked, but you had had a far too awful day to not do something good. 

You hadn't done this in a while, it was true. So your hesitance came more from your brain figuring out what it actually needed to do, than your insecurities (they were there too). 

Insecurities that melted away within an instant, for Spencer's thighs tensed beneath your hands that were now holding them apart the second your lips made contact with his cock, and through your lashes you could see his head tipping back. 

Your cheeks warmed at how easy it was to get him to respond, and you wondered if the satisfaction settled in your chest was anything similar to how he felt when he did this to you. 

You started hesitant. Gentle kitten licks at his tip that probably shouldn't have been garnering such a large reaction from him. But it was, and you had to preoccupy your mouth to keep the smug smile off of it. 

Wrapping your lips around the head, he lets out the breathiest moan you think you've ever heard come from him, and your mind goes hazy. Newfound blind confidence wills you to take more of him in your mouth, and it's a quiet 'Fuck' that compels you even further. 

In hindsight, he knew he'd enjoy it. It was you after all. He knew from the world shattering arousal that the simple sight of you on your knees was. He had, in a few short seconds, mentally prepared to enjoy this.

But not this much, and certainly not this quickly. 

"I've been too selfless," he muttered as you lifted your head back up, tongue licking a stripe up the underside of him as you did. When you met his gaze in question, he added, "I mean never asking you for this. I should've."

You hummed as a response (it was all you really could do), and the gentle vibrations shot heat throughout his body. A shuddering moan rocked through his body, and if not for your quick response time in pushing his hips down, they would've knocked against your face when he bucked them up.

You hollowed your cheeks, lowering your head back down, and emitting the loveliest of moans from Spencer, whose hand found its way to your hair. Upon the lack of your protests, he made a loose ponytail with his fist, gently tugging on it upwards so you could lift your head. 

You flattened your tongue on your ascend, successfully making his already weak grip on your hair go slack, within only seconds of him having grabbed it. Swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock, his hips bucked up again, and you flinched. 

"Jesus—fuck, sorry, honey," he rasped, though his guilt was quick to dissipate as he saw your thumbs up against his thigh. Your movements weren't hesitant, anymore. Just slow. Tortuously slow. "Can I..." he trailed off, seemingly becoming unsure of what it was he was asking of you within seconds, but the retightening of his hand in your hair gave you all you needed to know. 

You nodded your head the best you could, and he mumbled a quiet 'thank you', allowing you to set a base pace, before taking over. 

"So good. Jesus Christ, angel. Where did you learn this? Don't answer that. Don't tell me. Shit." 

His rambling was sharp sentences, that didn't really sound like they belonged together, and certainly didn't sound like they should be coming out of his mouth. They weren't the most articulately structured phrases he's ever come up with. A thought that comforted you, because you were doing that to him. 

"Fuck," he breathed out, once more, and you came to the mental conclusion you've never heard him swear so much in his life. The thought made your stomach flip.

Fingers dug into your scalp, though not too harshly to hurt. In fact, you were letting out a quiet moan of your own at the feeling, hips wiggling. Even in his state, Spencer noticed, and he smiled.

"You—ah—okay, angel?" he asked you, and you relished in the fact that he couldn't get out sentences without moaning. 

Your response was yet another hum, and he was bucking his hips. Again.

You knew he was close for a multitude of reasons; the fact that he had quickened his gentle-turned-firm guidance of your head, his fingers tugging on your hair a little harsher than before, and the ever so lovely, "Jesus Christ—please—oh," leaving his lips, breathlessly.

It was a few more moments of that, before the fingers in your hair went impossibly tight, and the muscles in his thighs locked beneath your hands. 

The fact you had never discussed doing this, meant neither of you knew the other's stance on what to do. Thankfully, Spencer was rendered so frenzied that he couldn't do anything. 

It was a sickeningly lovely sight; you pulling back and swallowing, some of his come painting your bottom lip. His fingers twitched, before they dropped back to the mattress on either side of his body, his chest heaving just as much as your own. 

Lightheaded, you slowly brought yourself back up to your feet, and Spencer's arms were quick to wrap around the backs of your thighs, pulling you into him. 

"Best head of your life?" you asked, lowering your lips to brush against his. 

"By a mile," he replied. 

"Just one mile?" 

"Maybe two."

Shooting him a glare, you huffed, and he laughed. "You're never getting head again, then."

He nipped your lower lip. "Okay."

"I'm putting my foot down," you retorted, disliking his lack of belief in your words. "Never again."

"I believe that."

"You should."

"Oh, I do," he hummed, sarcasm in his words making you frown. "Are your knees okay?" 

If his goal was to distract you, he succeeded, for your eyes were instantly dropping to your knees, indents from the threads of the rug evident. 

"They're okay," you confirmed, squirming as his thumbs rubbed circles into the skin on your thighs. 

"Tell me if they're not," he instructed, and you nodded. He stood up, hands sliding up to your waist. "Shower?"

"Shower," you confirmed with a nod, despite the fact that you had showered only a few hours prior. "Can we watch a movie after?"

"Yes."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[roosterforme]

Vintage | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You love teasing your husband about his deep and unwavering devotion to his Bronco, but he's insistent that it would come in second place to you every time, and he intends to prove it. While you're away on deployment, he concocts a plan to get you behind the wheel of your very own vintage beauty.

Warnings: Swears, fluff, mentions of smut

Length: 2700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

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"Sometimes I swear you love that thing more than you love me."

Your voice startled Bradley as he ran the wet, soapy sponge along the hood of his vintage Ford Bronco, pulling him from his thoughts. That was something you frequently said to him, jokingly claiming that you were the second love of his life. But you both knew it wasn't true. Especially not tonight.

"Hey, Baby," he whispered, coaxing you closer to him as he tossed the sponge back into the bucket. "Come here."

The setting sun painted your face with orange and gold, and he noticed the sadness in your eyes. He quickly wiped his hands on his jeans and then held them out to you, and you were in his arms in an instant. "Bradley," you mumbled against his chest as he squeezed you, getting your shirt a little damp in the process. But you didn't seem to mind. "I'm going to miss you."

Detailing and cleaning what used to be his dad's 1973 Bronco had become a way for him to relieve stress. He would get out the soap and turn on the hose when he needed a few minutes to himself. It was easier to be alone in his head, processing his thoughts and worries when he was washing the light blue masterpiece he'd spent so many years and a lot of money preserving. He always found himself in a better headspace to deal with whatever was troubling him when he spent some time with the Bronco. And today was no exception. 

"I'm going to miss you, too."

Sometimes it felt like the nearly five years you and he had been married were just spent alternating deployments. First he would be gone on an aircraft carrier for months on end, and then it would be your turn. You'd be sent abroad with the Navy before returning to him, and then the cycle would begin anew. Everything felt harder when you weren't around, and maybe that's why Bradley was out on the driveway right now instead of helping you pack for your early call time tomorrow morning. 

With your cheek pressed to his sternum, you cried softly. "It's only two months this time. And I'll have access to my phone. And I'll even be home in time for our anniversary. I don't know why I'm feeling so emotional about this."

He pressed his lips to your hair and whispered, "It's not like it gets any easier. You know that. I know that. It's going to feel like two months of hell on my end."

You sniffed hard then looked up at him with a little smirk. "At least you'll have the Bronco to keep you warm."

Bradley groaned and started to walk you backwards toward the house. "I mean, she's pretty and all, and I've definitely spent a night or two curled up around her gear shift, but I never gave her a diamond ring."

Your lips and your soft laughter against his neck sent a jolt of physical pleasure through his body, but he didn't want to rush this. He needed this to last, to hold him over for two months without your touch. Both of you tripped along to the bedroom where he smiled and whispered, "Let me show you that you're my number one girl. Let me prove you always will be."

Bradley was meticulous. He knew every inch of his Bronco, inside and out, but he knew you better. The sounds you made were prettier. The way you clung to him as he brought you pleasure was unparalleled. Your fingers laced with his as he connected his body with yours in the most intimate way, and it left him breathless.

"I love you."

-----------------------

Two days. He'd only been alone for two days, and he was already halfway through binge watching a season of a show that wasn't even that interesting. When he got home from work, he eyed up the couch and TV before ultimately changing into some sweats and heading back out to the driveway. He looked over the Bronco from hood to taillights, making a mental list of what she needed: new wiper blades, two new tires, and an oil change.

When he took his phone out to order the parts from his favorite website, he must have typed something wrong. It rerouted him to a vintage Ford resale page that left him staring at a sage green 1975 Bronco in rough condition. Man, she was still pretty though, with her original chrome and hubcaps. She was just an hour away, and the price wasn't too bad...

He glanced up at the blue gem in front of him. An idea started to take shape. He wondered how you would feel about it. With a smile, he ordered the wiper blades and oil filter that he needed and went inside to make dinner. But he couldn't stop picturing that chipped, green paint, and the vinyl that needed to be patched. 

If he knew he could get you hooked on a Bronco of your very own, he'd make this purchase. Two months to go. Shit, he might have just enough time to pull this off. He could practically picture you cranking the engine to life and waving goodbye as you pulled out of the driveway and took your Bronco for a spin. He wouldn't be able to say it with a straight face, but he'd say it anyway. "You love that thing more than you love me, Baby."

When he was stretched out on your side of the bed later that night, enveloped in your sweet scent that clung to the pillows, he closed his eyes and thought long and hard about what he wanted to do. It would be fun to prove to you once and for all where his loyalties lie. Or maybe it could just be a project that would keep him busy, and if you didn't like the idea, he could resell it after you got home. Either way, he drifted to sleep as he thought about you behind the wheel, and he knew it was too perfect to pass up.

----------------------

"Hey, Baby," Bradley said with a smirk as he answered his phone.

"Bradley! I miss you like crazy!"

"I miss you, too," he promised as he looked at the rather beat up, green Bronco before him. He got it for a great price when he offered to pay cash, and the tow truck just dropped it off a few days ago. Half of the engine was taken apart on a tarp at his feet, and it was currently jacked up so he could replace the oil pan. But he thought it was gorgeous. "I have a little surprise for you when you get home."

"A surprise?! Tell me. You know I can't wait that long."

"Nah," he said, kneeling down to check the wiring for the headlights. "I think I'll make you wait this one out."

"Rooster!"

"What?" he laughed, wedging the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he slipped his work gloves on and pulled at the loose wire. "You know, this is what you get for always giving me a hard time about my dad's Bronco. I love you so much, Baby, I'll make you wait for the surprise. It'll be sweeter that way."

"You're the worst," you groaned playfully. "Now I'll be thinking about what it could possibly be the whole time I'm gone. I'll be wondering what you have up your sleeve."

"As long as you're thinking about me, I'm happy," he rasped, and your pretty sigh in response left him a little breathless.

"I'm always thinking about you. Promise me as soon as I get back, we'll go for a long drive? Up along the coast? Late at night?"

He loved that idea. It would just look a little different than you were probably imagining if he could get this thing up and running again in time for your return. "We'll make a night of it," he promised. "I'll pack some blankets, and we can sit in the back and look out at the ocean. Can't guarantee I'll be able to keep my hands to myself though."

"Mmm. That's what I'm counting on."

----------------------

After about two weeks of watching a lot of YouTube videos posted by professionals, Bradley finally had the engine rebuilt. He was just waiting for some parts to arrive before he could put it back in place. "You're a needy one, aren't you?" he asked the green Bronco. "Nothing like her. She's a saint." He nodded his head toward the blue one before kneeling to replace the taillights. 

He was quickly realizing that the money he saved on the cost of the actual vehicle was being eaten up in the expensive, vintage parts. He was lucky he knew how to do most of this himself, even if it took twice as long. Today he was replacing the brakes and listening to a Motown playlist, and he fully realized that he felt calmest when he was with you or a Bronco. He snorted at how ridiculous that fact was as he scooted under the vehicle, but it was true. And having you tucked away in the back with the tailgate dropped, all wrapped up in a blanket while you turned him on just by existing.... well, that's when he would be happiest of all.

As the weeks wore on and the project progressed, the day finally arrived when it was time to try to start her up and take her for a little drive. Everything smelled like new rubber from the tires he'd just put on. The vinyl seats were still in bad shape, but when he slipped the key into the ignition and turned it, the engine purred to life.

Bradley's head tipped back as he groaned softly. "So fucking pretty. My god." He tapped the accelerator gently with his foot, enjoying the rev of the engine. He smoothed his hands along the steering wheel and the dashboard before he adjusted the rear view mirror to accommodate his height. Then he flicked the chrome switch and turned on the radio which he was surprised still worked.

My Girl by the Temptations poured from the speakers as the station crackled to life, and that felt like a very good sign. "Let's get out of here, Sweetheart," he whispered before shifting into reverse and leaving the driveway and his toolbox behind.

She was smooth and steady and everything he was hoping for. Would it ever fully compete with Goose's Bronco? Probably not. Was it worth the investment anyway? He'd find out next week when you got home. There were just a few things left to do before he dropped it off to be repainted and have the interior patched, and then she'd be good as new.

Bradley's phone rang in his pocket, and he smiled when he saw it was you. "Hey, Baby."

"Bradley! I miss you so much. I swear, if this thing was longer than two months, I wouldn't make it. What are you up to?"

"Oh, I'm just out for a little drive."

--------------------------

After eight weeks of nothing more than a few scant phone calls, Bradley was more than ready to have you home again. Maybe you and he could take a few days off from work. He'd help you catch up on some sleep after initially keeping you up all night. He already had some blankets ready to go as soon as you said you wanted to drive up to Carlsbad and watch the surfers at sunset before making love in the back of your Bronco.

Your Bronco. His wife's Bronco. It would take some getting used to, but it already made him smile every time he thought about it. With his hands on that familiar steering wheel, he drove toward the Naval base where both of you spent so much of your time. He waited, leaning against the light blue hood until you came running toward him in your uniform with your bags.

"Bradley!" you shrieked as you landed in his arms where you belonged. 

"I missed you," he promised, finally kissing your lips again after so many weeks. He felt your bag hit his foot, and he smiled as he tilted your face up for better access to your mouth.

"I missed you, too," you moaned softly, and he was already making the move to get you back home and remind you what you meant to him. But you dug your feet in outside the passenger door. 

"Where's my surprise?" you asked as you tucked your fingers into the top of his jeans and grinned up at him. "I've been thinking about it nonstop. Is it you?"

"No," he replied with a chuckle as his gaze drifted toward the Bronco. "You'll see soon enough."

You glanced at where he was looking, and you rolled your eyes before kissing his chin. "Did she keep you company while I was gone? She looks pristine, like you spend some time working on her."

Bradley kissed your forehead. "Just get in, Baby," he rasped. "The sooner we get home, the sooner your little surprise will make sense."

He knew the routine by heart now. The short ride home would start out with you holding his right hand and playing with his fingers while he drove. Then your hand would migrate to his thigh when the Bronco was about five blocks away. Then as soon as the tires touched the driveway, you'd unbuckle your seatbelt and make your way over to his lap.

The routine was important to him. He loved it. He loved taking you inside and directly to bed before coming back out much later to get the bags. He thrived on the return to normal life that was triggered by the routine. But today, he knew you weren't going to end up on his lap, and that was more than okay.

When your hand settled on his thigh exactly five blocks away from home, Bradley smiled. Your fingers crept up inch by inch as you leaned closer and whispered in his ear that you had their fifth wedding anniversary all planned out for the following weekend. You were playing with the zipper of his jeans by the time he could see the house, and he just waited for it. He was not disappointed.

"What the fuck is that?" you gasped, both hands going to the dashboard in front of you as you leaned to check out the freshly painted green Bronco as he coasted into the driveway. "Bradley?" you asked, glancing at him with wide eyes as he shifted into park.

He smiled and leaned over to kiss your softly parted lips. "This is your surprise. You're always joking about how much I love my Bronco, but I'll never love anything more than I love you."

You pressed your lips to his once before pulling away, shaking your head slightly. "So you got me one of my own?" you asked, jerking your thumb toward the green one.

He nodded and pulled his key from the ignition before pressing it into your palm. "Yep. She's all yours."

"Wait," you whispered, your brow creasing in confusion as you looked down at your hand. "This is your key."

"No, it's your key. The key to the green one is in the house. That's my key."

You gaped at him as your eyebrows shot upwards. "You're giving me your Bronco?"

"Yep."

"But," you whispered, turning to look out the window, "I can drive the other one."

"No, I bought the green one with myself in mind," he replied, taking your chin gently in his hand so you were looking at him again. "This one's better. She's sweet. Like you. She's yours."

"Oh my god, Bradley."

He was wrong; you did end up in his lap. Right where you belonged. His hands settled at your hips as you kissed every inch of his face while he laughed.

"I want to take her for a spin," you whispered, nudging him out of the driver's seat with your knee. "Go."

He smiled as he walked around to the passenger side of the blue Bronco, and he barely had the door closed before you started the engine and shifted into gear. "Pretty soon you'll love this thing more than you love me, Baby."

---------------------------

He gave you his Bronco. The green one was for him. That's how you know he loves you. I hope they do some nasty shit in the green one to break it in. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[what-even-is-thiss]

I worry sometimes about the beautiful fantasy that certain conservative stay at home moms are selling on places like tiktok and Instagram. A lot of them are acting like stay at home moms should never work or do finances or something and that’s just not right.

Both of my grandmothers were stay at home moms but neither of my grandfathers forced them into it. My dad’s mom helped run the family construction business and did some freelance architecture design on the side and my mom’s mom just hated working and worked part time as a teller on and off during times they needed more money. And both of my grandfathers knew how to cook. They didn’t cook most of the time but sometimes the wife is sick or off visiting her parents so you’ve gotta know how to whip up some corn chowder or something for the kids after work.

A lot of “stay at home spouses” or ��homemakers” work actually. Including those trad wife influencers or even occasional house husband influencers you see on Instagram and tiktok. Their job ironically enough is being a homemaker influencer. The second that person turns on a camera for money they’re no longer solely working as a homemaker.

The idea that there’s some perfect life you can live where all you do is clean and cook and have perfect little babies is a fantasy. Parenthood involves vomit. Relationships involve disagreements. Most households necessitate having two incomes at some point, especially if your main source of income is a business. Businesses are inconsistent sources of money. Freelance work is an inconsistent source of money. It’s also important to have your own means of financial support in case your spouse decides to stop being a good person someday. It might not happen to you but there’s also no guarantee that it won’t. And a decent person won’t feel threatened by you wanting to have your own means of income because if they’re a good person then generally they shouldn’t have to financially trap you in order to get you to stay with them.

Thankfully neither of my grandfathers turned out to be total pieces of shit but in case they did one of my grandmothers had her investments and architecture and drafting skills to fall back on and the other had years of experience as a bank teller that could’ve gotten her a full time job in most places. And both of these women ended up raising daughters that grew up to have careers.

My mother was also a part time teacher that spent a good amount of her time raising my brother and I when she was alive. But she had her own money and could have left at any time if she needed to and when she died my dad still had all the skills needed to raise us and teach my brother and I how to do basic household tasks.

If your life’s dream is to be a stay at home parent I’m not going to tell you that’s a stupid dream. What I am going to tell you is a) it’s not glamorous and stress-free and you should not expect it to be like that, b) have an escape plan just in case and fully understand what you’re getting into financially, and c) pick someone as your partner who knows how to do basic household tasks even if they won’t be doing them most of the time because you will get sick, you will get tired, you will visit your friends or family and you want someone who can get your kids dressed and cook them dinner in the event that you can’t.

[missnxthingg]

Gal I need lando fluff as well could u do taking care of him when he’s sick and he’s all tired and clingy

needy | LN4

pairing: Lando Norris x Female!Reader summary: After a busy month, all Lando needs is his girlfriend to take care of him words: 1 K - warnings: Sick Lando and lots of cuteness (also not proof read, sorry) author’s notes:  I'm so sorry for the delay, it was a busy & unplanned week at work. But here we are, just in time to celebrate our favourite boy's birthday

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Triple headers always hit quite hard on Lando. Since he joined Formula 1, he doesn't remember a single time he didn't end up sick after almost a month travelling around the world. And this time it wasn't different; he started having a fever the morning after he arrived from Brazil and stayed in bed all day.

Y/N found it odd to not find him in his usual state of relaxation after a full month of work: locked inside his dark gaming room, full of snacks and laughing with Max. Instead, he was wrapped around three blankets in their living room, body almost lifeless on the sofa as he watched a boring movie on TV.

“Oh, baby boy, are you feeling okay?”, she asked, putting her things down so she could check on him.

Lando smiled tired at her and shrugged, too tired to even say something. She knew he was getting sick, especially after he spent the entire flight home – and their night of sleep – coughing. She just didn’t expect for it to be that bad, to the point where the most chatty boy in the world would go speechless.

“Have you eaten?”, she ran her hands through his face and he nodded tiredly. Then she found the empty yogurt cup beside him and rolled her eyes. “A yogurt isn't eating, Lando”.

“Come cuddle, baby”, he mumbled, wrapping one of his hands around her wrist.

“I'm worried about you, my love”, she ran her hands through his curls, making him open a tired smile. “I swear to God, every triple header is the same. I won't let you go anymore”.

“It's just a way my body found of telling I'm tired”, he assured. “If you come cuddle, then I'll be fine”.

“Later, baby. I have to make lunch for us”, she pressed a kiss on top of his head and Lando whined loudly. “Stop being a baby!”

“You're evil”.

Y/N started taking things out of the fridge to start cooking their lunch, and Lando suddenly appeared behind her, wrapping his hands around her waist from behind and resting his head on the crook of her neck. She smiled at the gesture and cuddled into his touch as she cut some onions.

“Ouches my eyes”, he cried, making her giggle just before she stopped cutting the onions, to put it in the hot pan. “What are you doing?”

“Caramelized onion and creamy cheese pasta”, she revealed, making him open a big smile. “A favourite for my sick boy”.

“You're the best, baby. I love you so much”, he pressed a kiss on her shoulder, but didn't let go off her, choosing to stay glued to her side as she cooked.

“Lan, it's a bit hard to cook with you clinging onto me”, she chuckled. “Maybe sit right there and keep me company. Then I'll give you as many cuddles as you want”.

“Mmm, okay”, he smiled tiredly, finding a spot to sit close to her, as he observed her cooking. Travelling the world is nice, but he loved coming home to the love of his life, who always took the best care of him.

Suddenly, he was taken back to the early dates of their relationship, when she’d invite him over for dinner and cook him the easiest pasta that, in time, became his comfort food. That’s exactly what he needed after a long month away from home, and away from her, since she only came to the first race in Austin. His heart felt at ease when she served him a plate and found a spot next to him.

“Thank you”, he mumbled before attacking the food. “It’s so good to be home. It’s so good to be with you”.

“I was counting the seconds until you were back to me”, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and cuddled to his side as they ate in silence, just feeling each other’s presence. He learned to appreciate silence after loud days as he rested next to his favourite girl. “Are you feeling better?”

“My throat is sore, and it feels like I was hit by a truck”, he joked. “The headache is gone, though”.

“I’ll use my super healing powers to make you feel better”, she sprinkled kisses through his face, making him open a genuine smile for the first time that day. But just before she kissed him on the lips, he backed away.

“You’ll get sick, baby”.

“It will be worth it, then”, she declared, before sealing their lips into a sweet kiss. Lando had missed those lips more than anything, and if she was willing to take the risk of getting sick, then he’s not arguing about it. “I love you, my sweet boy”.

“I love you too, beautiful”, he pecked her lips once again and took a second to analyse her face from up close; the face he adored so much. “Now, can we please cuddle?”

“Yes, my whiny baby, we can”.

Lando wanted to sweep her off her feet and take her to the couch, but felt too weak to do so. Y/N almost had to do this to him to get him to stand up and walk. He collapsed onto their couch and was too tired to open his arms to invite his girlfriend to join. She still found her spot next to him and pulled him closer, until they were tangled together between the blankets.

She pressed soft kisses all over his face and watched his lips tiredly curve into a smile, just as he felt a little better to have her taking care of him. They didn't even notice they forgot to turn on the TV.

“I'm so glad you're finally home”, she whispered. “This place is too quiet without you. I don't like it”.

“I'm happy to be back with my home”, he pressed his fingers to her skin and she smiled at him. “You're the best. I missed you so much that I might as well take you with me next time”.

“Anything so we can be together”, she said. “Sleep, baby, I'll be here holding you”.

“I love you so much. You're my everything, the love of my life, the sweetest…”, he continued to list various things about her and fell asleep mid-sentence.

“I love you more, Lan”, she pressed one last kiss on his forehead before falling asleep too.

⤿ add yourself to the taglist!

[morallygreychaoticneutral]

Astarion doesn't ask for affection because he can't..... yet.

Ah, more tea steeping in this seeming endless sea of thoughts. This brew is a bit strong on the heart. Read with caution.

Warning for game spoilers and talk of abuse.

This perspective is from game content only. How anybody cannons their relationships or behaviors is perfectly right. No blame, no shame, it's your game.

I was always miffed at the lack of initiated affection from Astarion as a partner. YOU ask him for a kiss. YOU ask him for a hug. YOU ask him to tell you thank you after being an amazing partner and killing a massive beastie just for him! Brat...

But then I had a sudden realization. Given his past, affection is probably insanely hard to ask for. Like it can be for a lot of us.

Stay awhile and listen. (nerd)

Now when I speak of narcissistic abuse I am only speaking from what I know about it. I have no academic or phycology degree on the matter. Just good ol' tossed in the pond and forced to sink or swim experience.

Astarion spent 200 years under the crushing weight of narcissistic / psychopathic abuse. One of the things these types of abusers love to do is take what you love and make you hate it and then make you hate yourself for ever having liked it to begin with. All very nasty business that. But it's one of the main corner stones for the cage they build to control you.

They make you feel as if the request of a simple hug is the most pathetic thing you could ask for. Or the most selfish thing as it inconveniences them. They don't want it, why should they give it to you?

Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue..

200 years with a master who used him like a tool. 200 years with siblings that fought amongst each other so much comfort was a liability. Nights coming home assaulted only to be mocked for your tears. Insulted for your need of comfort.

"Pathetic! Weak! Disgusting! "

Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue..

Affection was nowhere to be found there, I assure you.

And for a Narc. anything given is expected to be "earned" in any way they see fit. And if you were "rewarded" with anything, it comes at high price.

And how dare you not find it fair. You ingrate!

Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue..

Hugs are pathetic. Kisses are an intrusion. Or they become gateways to other unwanted behaviors. To be held...what are you? A baby? The only way you are going to get held, is down.

Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue.. The pattern continues.

But you ask HIM for a kiss. And he says..

"There is nothing I'd like more."

And he means it.

I'd bet a mountain of gold he wants to just ask you himself. But years of conditioning to expect pain when seeking pleasure probably keeps him in a choke hold. Like rats that are shocked every time they try to eat food out of a dish. They learn it is safer to starve.

"I want to ask Tav for a kiss or a hug, but they might think i'm weak. But if they ask me first then it's them who wants it and they can't degrade me for it because they asked, not me. It's safe then."

"I want to ask Tav for a kiss or hug, but they might reject me for being too needy and shame and berate me for being so selfish or demanding of their time and person. But if they ask they have time and want me to kiss/hug them."

"I want to ask Tav for a kiss or a hug, but my primal brain keeps telling me they might demand more than I want to give in return for it. But if they ask, I have the power of negotiating the outcome."

This leads me to believe he would view sex and affection very differently as well.

Where most find affection safe and nurturing, it's anxiety educing and unsafe. It means there are feelings and if there are feelings there is the risk and fear of rejection or judgment. It's much scarier.

Where most find sex to be connecting and intimate, it's been used so much it's lost any meaning. Something you can do a thousand times over and walk away the second it's done and feel nothing afterward.

This may even be a part of the reason why he wants to stop having sex.

He wants to connect with you in ways denied to him. He wants the experience of being courted, treasured, nurtured. It means so much more to him than sex. It is so much more connecting.

Feeling this way is wretched and lonely. The most basic instinct is to want to seek comfort in the arms of those who love us. But it's broken. The risk is too great.

And it's hard. Because you could be the sweetest most honorable Tav in the whole of Fearun. But after being fed poised apples one too many times, all apples appear poisonous regardless of if is true or not.

I have no doubt that this prickly elf soaks up every second of non sexual affection you give him. And truly is grateful for your patience while he slowly and carefully disarms the safety measures he put in place to survive. The fact that he even allowed you to touch him like that at all was a monumental act of trust. And why not? You are incredible after all.

I'm going to go ask my elf for a kiss now. And then cry in my cup.

[lovegalor333]

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

you’re gonna be ok (paige x reader)

summary: you’re going through a tough time and have pushed paige away but she finally realises something is wrong

content warnings: talks of depression and ed behaviours/language

requested by: @melpthatsme 💗

Your girlfriend was getting suspicious and rightly so. You had just given her another lame excuse as to why you couldn’t have dinner with her tonight. That was the third time this week.

At first it was ‘too much homework’, then a ‘headache’ and now it was your ‘period’. All lies.

As you lay curled up in your bed, all lights turned off, you sobbed silent tears until your pillow was saturated. You felt guilty lying to Paige but you couldn’t go out, especially not to eat.

You wasn’t entirely sure why Paige even wanted to be seen in public with you anyway, why she was with you at all actually. Paige was beautiful. Like the most beautifully perfect woman there ever was. Her eyes shone bright at all times and whether her hair was pulled into a tight ponytail or left natural and loose, framing her face, it looked immaculate. She was intelligent and athletic, maintaining an almost perfect GPA while simultaneously leading her team in back to back wins. Paige was everything and you, you were nothing.

You hated everything about yourself and you were usually good at hiding it. Painting on a fake smile and laughing when others laughed, mirroring your friends actions to make it seem like everything was just fine but it was getting harder to hide. You were drinking and smoking just to get respite from your thoughts. You were dragging yourself to gatherings just to count down the minutes until you could leave and be alone in your room where you could finally let your guard down.

You were proud at how long you had gone keeping this to yourself but it was almost impossible now. You didn’t want to talk. You didn’t want to leave the apartment. You didn’t want to eat. You didn’t want to see anyone. In fact, you didn’t want to see yourself. You had even gone as far to cover every mirror in your room just to avoid the reflection that made you sick to your stomach.

You felt like you had cried a river this past week but the tears wouldn’t stop, you thought there would be nothing left to give but you were a never ending pit of sadness.

You hear shuffling and muffled voices coming from your living room, your roommates must be home. You thanked yourself for keeping your lights off and closed your eyes so if they came into your room, they’d think you were sleeping.

A few seconds past before you heard a light knock at your door. You ignored it. Pressing yourself further into your mattress, wishing it would swallow you whole. Then came the click of the handle being turned and the door squeaking open.

You kept your body as still as possible, holding your breath in hopes that whoever was disturbing you would think twice but that doesn’t happen. Instead your bedroom light is flicked on and your door is closed with force, practically slammed.

“Why did you lie to me?” You recognise Paiges voice immediately and it’s a mixture of pissed off but also upset and you know it’s your fault.

“What?” You say, even though you heard her loud and clear.

“I know you’re not on your period. Our cycles are synced. They have been for months. Why did you lie?” Paige asks again and you feel so stupid for making such a rookie error.

Paige was right. Your cycles were synced, it happened often with women and girls that spent a lot of time together, so when you were on your period, she was too. She had caught you out in your lie.

“I don’t know.” You mummble into your duvet, still curled up tightly.

“You’ve blown me off three times this week. You barely answer my calls and texts, it’s like I have to force you to see me and now you’re lying to me and you can’t even be bothered to tell me why?” Paige rants and even though you still haven’t looked at her you can tell she’s pacing your room.

“I don’t understand what’s going on. I thought we were good but maybe not.” She says and you physically feel your heart brake at her words but you can’t bring yourself to say anything other than, “Maybe.”

“What?” She asks confused even though she was the one who said it first, “Y/N, can you at least fucking look at me?” She snapped and you know thats the least you owe her so you slowly roll yourself around so you’re no longer facing the wall and push yourself up into a sitting position but you can’t bring yourself to lift your eyes from your lap.

“I wanted to take you for dinner, spend some time with you. Just be with you and I thought you would have wanted the same but instead you’re in bed!” Paige continued and you just took her onslaught of words, you didn’t have the energy to argue or even defend yourself.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered, picking at the already raw skin around your nails.

“Will you just look at me? Do you want to break-” You finally look at Paige and she stops mid-sentence, “Have you been crying?”

You ignore her question because your heart is racing and more tears are threatening to fall at what she was about to ask, “Finish what you were about to say.” You whisper but she doesn’t need to, you knew what she was going to say. She was going to ask if you wanted to break up.

“What’s the matter? What happened? Why were you crying?” Paige asks all at once, any annoyance in her tone has been replaced with concern and her facial expression shifted from dark and frowning to soft and doe eyed.

“I wasn’t.” You lie, “Finish what you were about to say.”

“Yes you were. Your eyes are red and puffy, your skin is blotchy,” She walks towards you, “and your pillows wet. Why were you crying?”

“You want to break up.” You answer your own question.

“No. No, I don’t. But I don’t understand what’s going on with you, I thought maybe you did.” She says honestly sitting on the edge of your bed.

“I don’t.”

“Why were you crying baby? Tell me what’s on your mind.” She says placing a hand on your leg.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“It’s too much Paige. My mind is too much, it’s too dark. You don’t deserve that.” You begin to cry again and it quickly turns into sobs.

“Hey, baby, come here.” She whispered, pulling you into her chest and onto her lap, she wrapped her arms around your body and held you close, “You’re scaring me.” She admits, “Tell me what’s going on my love. I want to help you.”

“You deserve more than this Paige.” You choke out in between sobs, you’re hyperventilating now, your body shaking in your girlfriends arms but she continues to hold you tight and close.

“But I want you. I love you.” She pulls away from you slightly so she can look you in your eyes and she holds your face tenderly, a hand on each cheek, “You’re all I want, my beautiful girl.”

“Don’t say that.” You weep, jumping out of her lap.

“Don’t say what?”

“Don’t say I’m beautiful. Don’t say any of it. It’s not true.” You cross your arms over yourself wishing you could shrink down into the smallest dimensions and eventually disappear.

“Baby, what are you saying? What’s going on?” She reaches out for you but you pull away not wanting to be touched.

Paige properly looks around your room for the first time and you watch as she notices everything and you see the cogs turning in her head as her eyes fall to your mirror, covered by a sweater. She sees the paper taped to your wall with your weight written on it followed by the harshest of words that you thought about yourself. She sees the empty alcohol bottles on your dresser and the half smoked blunt on your bedside table. And when she finally looks at you, in your oversized clothes, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, her eyes were glossy and her forehead creased as she fought back tears of her own.

“I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but I do know that I do love you and you are beautiful and I’ll tell you that everyday until you believe it.” She says as a tear slips down her cheek.

Paige walks over to you, taking you by your hands first and kissing both of them. She pulls on the sleeves of your sweater and you reluctantly let her pull it over your head so your just standing there in your bra. You close your eyes not wanting to see her reaction to your body, the thought of it made you sick. You felt her lips press to your stomach and she peppered kisses up your torso, “My beautiful baby.” She mumbled against your skin as she continued to kiss over your chest and onto your neck.

She took you to your bed, laying you down and she hooked her fingers into the waistband of your joggers, pulling them off, exposing your legs. You wanted to grab the sheet and cover yourself up but her mouth met your thigh and she pecked it gently, moving over the the other, “So perfect.” She breathed, the tips of her fingers trailing down your legs.

You lay on your bed, eyes closed, tears streaming out and you feel Paige hover above you, “Look at me baby.” She says softly, wiping the tears that soaked your cheeks. You flutter your eyes open and look up at Paige who’s looking down at you, eyes filled with nothing but love and care. “Please don’t shut me out. I’m here for you. Anything you need me to do, I’ll do it. I just want you to be OK. I need you to be OK. You’re everything to me.” She says, blue eyes locked on yours.

“Can you just hold me tonight?” You sniffle. “Of course.”

Paige lays on your bed, pulling you into her arms, she presses her lips to your head before her fingers find your hair and she runs through it gently, “You’re gonna be OK.” She whispers comfortingly. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

a/n: i wrote this so tired so forgive any mistakes 😭 already want to write a part 2 🥺🥺

[is-this-even-relatable]

Misfortune Teller

tldr: An older Danny, apprentice to Clockwork, does a lot of field work across dimensions, resetting the timeline, queuing future events, and who knows what else. Occasionally, he warns people about such upcoming possibilities, to set them on the right path. How, you might ask? Well in this case... as a wandering fortune teller.

Crack-fic (oh god, it's getting long and my logic brain won't let it remain as crack) where Danny becomes Clockwork's apprentice after getting his GED. Living his infinite afterlife to the fullest. Inspired by this tumblr post.

Working for Clockwork had been... interesting so far. At first, Danny got frustrated by how vague and cryptic Clockwork was. He'd just shunt Danny off to some ancient time with a few words, his own time medallion (Danny carried it everywhere with him now), and then pop back into the portal, leaving Danny with only the faintest idea of where to go.

Eventually, after enough time (ha!) spent around Clockwork, Danny figured out that it just basically meant that he had free reign and to do whatever he wanted. Because if he went on the wrong path, (like that one time in Pompeii when he had almost caused the volcano to explode a few years too early), Clockwork would just pop on by, say another few cryptic words, and then it'd all be fine and dandy, or as he liked to say, "All is as it should be... Now stop practicing your wail by an active volcano."

After telling Jazz about that (it was supposed to be funny, not concerning), she just sighed and shook her head, with a forlorn "think before you act, Danny!" but hey, it'd turned out fine so far, so who cares how he does what Clockwork asks him to do, as long as it gets done, right? Even if it's with a liiiiitle more mischief than strictly required.

Besides. Danny was the one who had been doing time shenanigans across millennia, not Jazz. And he thought he'd been getting pretty good at it too! He'd actually started giving himself a different made-up background for each universe he visited. Sam and Tucker were helping him keep up with the identities on a spreadsheet, so if he had to go back to one he'd already visited, he'd remember who he'd said he was supposed to be.

---

He was on a call with them one evening while haunting Jazz's apartment, doing just that, when he felt a familiar tingle in the back of his throat, as well as a heightened awareness of the seconds passing by, that always accompanied his mentor's appearance.

Sam was talking about his past stint posing as a god of death when he cut in. "Hey- sorry to interrupt, Sam- Clocky's here, guys, I gotta dip."

"Aw, come on! We hardly talked any this past week since you passed your certifications, man," Tucker complained.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, yeah. Partly on you too though, you've been caught up outside of class, and Sam's schedule is nearly the opposite of yours."

Sam hummed in agreement despiter Tucker's scoff.

Danny missed hanging out with them as much as they had in high school, but hey, life goes on. Or at least, theirs did, to college. After finally flunking out of Casper High, he'd taken some time to get used to his responsibilities in the ghost zone, and when he had, he realized that he didn't really have much enthusiasm or timeleft for his human life.

And he didn't really want to go back home either.

But Jazz had made him tie up any loose ends before he noped-off to god knows where, which frankly, he had to thank her for. Getting his GED took a few years, but it was an accomplishment that could be attributed to Danny Fenton, no ghostliness required. Then he was able to let that tether go free.

Pulled out of his musings by a few more grumbles from Tucker, Danny said his goodbyes, promising to call the next time they were all available.

After hanging up, Danny swiveled around, anticipation already lighting up his eyes an ethereal green.

Clockwork, for his part, had been waiting patiently through Danny's lengthy goodbyes. Although he supposed that it tracked for the watcher of time to be patient. With his job, it'd be a nightmare if he wasn't.

"Phantom," Clockwork spoke, calm as always. "I have some tasks I need you to complete as my apprentice."

And Danny, always ready for adventure, didn't need him to explain any further. "Sure! When do you need me to be?"

Clockwork smiled at that. "I am fortunate you are eager. Follow me."

---

Danny popped into existence in this universe with a burst of cold air and static electricity. He found himself hovering by a clocktower above a sprawling, gothic city. Smog and light pollution obscured the stars above him, to his disappointment. He comforted himself with the fact that he'd probably have all the time he wanted to fly someplace less populated to see them later.

He started off by familiarizing himself with the city. As he flew, he followed the trail of power and met the resident city-spirit, a spooky- but kind underneath- woman draped in black lace, who told him her name was Gotham. He spoke in length with her about this universe, its heroes, and her knights. On that, she was very enthusiastic... or at least Danny thought she was, her projected emotions belaying much more than her gloomy exterior. She told him how her knights had been through a lot and would need some guidance fighting the darkness that pooled in her deepest corners, smiling with too much glee, filling lungs with fear, and terrorizing with cold hard bullets.

Danny could sense that the dangers she spoke of were growing in power, ever slowly. The longer they shadowed people's minds and hearts, an intangible thing grew that lent them more otherworldly pull than their physical forms had right to hold.

That must be what he was sent here for.

But... they were weak, pitifully so for him, infinite king as he was. And besides, he wasn't here in that sense. He was a messenger, a simple apprentice. And he could do this however he wanted.

Cue his talk with Lady Gotham, and subsequent idea to arm her knights. With what? Well, he figured knowledge would be a start. Flying high above the city invisibly, Danny noticed a sea of colors and lights by what appeared to be the city's pier. He flew down, noting that it appeared to be the setup spot for a travelling circus or carnival of some kind.

He considered what to do. One of Lady Gotham's troubles was a madman clown, right? Well maybe he'd be attracted to his ilk here... and with the danger came the knights. Maybe he could catch one of them here?

Danny was floating around at the entrance and beginning to formulate a plan when a flyer caught his eye. Looking for a mystic to read fortunes. URGENT!

Hadn't Clockwork said something about fortunes? And he hadn't made an identity in this universe yet...

A mischievous smile crept across Danny's face, splitting it in two with far too many teeth.

---

Half a city away, a man in all black, perched on the very same clocktower that Phantom had Appeared by, shivered as he felt an ominous premonition about his sanity in the near future...

Said man quickly opened his comms to check in with his many, many kids. Yet even after hearing back from each, he still felt apprehensive.

Somewhere even further, Clockwork laughed.

---

And that's how Danny found himself seated at a fortune teller's booth at a pier in Gotham, two days later, for the Tricksy Traveling Circus's grand opening.

[blkgirl-writing]

Ahhhhh you are phenomenal! Do you have any more stray nsfw thoughts for Gale?

Oh my goodness I love this question!!! Um..I think… these are more random and much more detailed and graphic so beware 😩

More NSFW Gale of Waterdeep headcannons

He keeps thrusting hard while he’s cumming, grinding his hips against yours, milking every last drop of his orgasm

He Cums a lot, like my god does it make for a great cream pie

and he'd definitely just want to cum inside you

though it would be quite fun to tease him with keeping his cum on your face for a while after the first time he came on your face. You confidently walking back too camp while he followed closely "did you forget to wipe your face?" "love, everyone will see-oh, unless you wanted..that?"

he immediately gets hard again from that idea

Astarion would make quite a few jokes at Gales expense seeing the mess he made on you

and a few small comments on how he could do better

the next night Gale made sure to make you scream his name extra loudly, and wouldn't bother to cover your mouth to shush you

he has a hard time cumming from head, honestly. he loves getting it but he'd much prefer to be inside you

one you get to his real home, his tower, he'll want to fuck you in every single corner, on every single surface

his favorite probably being bending you over the kitchen counter but there's many favorites

Gale feels award not using his hands the whole time during sex, but specifically oral, both giving and taking

he will always be fingering you , or holding up your hips, or feeling your body, his hands will always be in use

and while you give him head he'll hold your chin or cup your jaw (isn't that just the prettiest sight)

and he'd tell you how well you're doing

lowkey compliments you so much because he wants to be complimented

Literally will walk much happier after you say he has the best cock/massive cock, anything really

And of course he's packing. Always well trimmed, solid 8 inches, perfectly curved

he doesn't even have to do much with a dick like that but he still treats you like royalty

Let's talk mutual masterbation ok

He's so used to his own touch from the time he spent alone that he definitely still needs to masterbate

but gods is he feel guilty

he'll tell you every time he wants to

and you'd just hear him moaning your name

before you were together one of his biggest fantasies about you was watching you make yourself cum

laying so prettily on his bed, spread wide

that thought would make him cum so damn fast

and also unable to look you in the eye for a whole day

he couldn't look at you directly for a whole week because of the nasty things he made up

he was masterbating quite literally every second he could manage to

to the point where he didn't really have any sperm left

thankfully he didn't have to wait long til you joined his fantasies

anyway

it became a very usual thing to grind on each other til you both came

it felt intimate and he wanted to feel you cumming on his leg

Absolutely licks his fingers after pulling his finger out of you

I think thats enough for now 😭

[deusfoundry]

zayne domestic fluff brainrot again except this time, it's you who comes home to him, and he finally gets to pamper and serve you the way you always do for him.

you're greeted by a warm waft of air the moment you open the door. the entire apartment is filled with the smell of your favorite dishes and you know instantly that, for the first time in weeks, zayne is home before you.

you hastily take off your coat and shoes, rushing past your cat sprawled in the middle of the hallway and to the kitchen where you find zayne. he's got an apron loosely tied around his waist. it takes you a second to realize that it's your gift from last week, the one that came in bright baby blue with ruffled, lace edges and an embroidered snowman dead center.

"it reminded me of you!" is what you had said when you handed it to him over dinner.

and he had thanked you with a feathery kiss on your knuckles, "i suppose i look a bit like this snowman, no?”

it still warms your heart, oddly enough, despite the fact that zayne has never been one to turn down any of your gifts, no matter how trivial or silly they were. he still has the keychain you gave him secured on the handle of his bag. the ceramic white kitten you got from your trip out of town five years ago sits comfortably on the desk at his office. one cutout panel from a photo strip of you and your cat is tucked inside an antique heart-shaped locket you found in some thrift store downtown. and there's not a moment where that locket isn't on him, one way or another, hung around his neck or buried in the safety of his pockets during surgery.

he adores you, and by extension every little trinket or piece of clothing you decide to give him.

the moment zayne turns down the heat on the stove is when you decide to make your presence known. you take light, careful steps as you walk towards him.

you wrap your arms around his waist, hands settling over his stomach.

and either he knows you've been lingering near the kitchen for a while or you weren't as sneaky as you thought, because he's not startled with your sudden arrival. he merely hums, as if to acknowledge your presence, before immediately melting against your touch. he takes one of your hands in his, the one that's not holding on to the ladle, and brings it closer to his lips.

"welcome home." he presses a kiss over your palm, absentmindedly tracing the lines with his finger. "dinner's almost ready. you should go and wash up.”

"this is a lot, zayne. thank you." you nuzzle a cheek against his back, trying to bring yourself impossibly closer to him as if you aren't already soul to soul at this very moment. "can't i at least set the table? wanna help you.”

"don't worry about it, my love." zayne turns down the stove completely. he faces you for the first time this evening, and you try not to be taken aback at how he looks at you. a bright gaze that makes him look like he’s in a trance as he’s staring at you. his eyes track the few strands of hair that manage to escape from behind your ear. he’s quick to move them out of the way. from there, his hand naturally gravitates towards your cheek where his thumb drags across smooth skin. he digs into the flesh with little pressure. "let me take care of you tonight.”

"if you insist.”

you can't help but laugh at how he sends you off. he’s ushering you to go to your shared bedroom, to get out of the clothes you’ve spent your entire day in and freshen up, but his hand stays firmly clasped around yours. it takes a few weak tugs and a lot of coaxing, of dragging out his name and using every possible pet name that comes to your mind for him to finally let you go.

when you return to your dining area after a quick shower, half of the lights are turned off. there's a set of three candles in the middle of the table lined with the placemats you only ever bring out when your parents are visiting.

zayne notices your arrival as he’s in the middle of placing two bowls of soup near your plates. he pulls out your chair, revealing the small bouquet of red chrysanthemums resting on it.

“for you.”

you’re briefly surprised as you take the flowers in your hands. he moves closer until his palm finds the small of your back.

"if i didn't know any better, i'd say you're planning on popping the question tonight.” you tease.

zayne tries to hide the pink dusting his cheeks by looking the other way. “can’t a man spoil his beloved?”

“oh, of course he can.” you reach for his face, taking his jaw by your hand. gently and with little resistance, you turn his face towards yours. “and his beloved couldn’t be more grateful. really, zayne, you didn’t have to do all of this.”

“i got off work early. when you told me you were working overtime, i thought it was the least i can do.”

“then let’s not keep the food waiting.” you smile.

you and zayne eat in an almost complete absence of silence as you urge him to talk about his day. and you find that it was pretty uneventful for the most part, except for the little girl he met in the hospital’s cafeteria.

“her name's mika.” he says between sips of red wine. “she’s six and she owns a cat who's three years older than her.”

you hum, motioning for him to continue.

“i met her little brother too. his name's louis, but he doesn't like being called that because it sounds too much like the name of the girl he apparently hates in school.”

“wow,” you breathe, “look at you, doctor zayne. akso hospital’s world-renowned chief cardiac surgeon and speaker to all toddlers.”

he lets out a low laugh, “i gave them some of the macarons you baked.”

“that’s adorable! did they like it?”

"when they asked who made them, i said they were baked by someone i hold near to my heart." zayne nods as he wipes the edge of lips with a napkin. "they said i should make sure to give that person lots of love."

"oh?" you lean forward, reaching across the table and past the plates of food to find his hand. "i think they might be right, doctor zayne."

zayne chuckles, choosing to indulge you. “i think so too.”

“meet me in the bedroom after i clean up?” he stands up, moving to stack the empty plates on top of each other. but you decide to beat him to it, swiftly taking the plates in your hand and out of his reach.

"leave this to me, love."

zayne frowns. there’s a slight crease on his forehead as he tries—but ultimately fails to protest. “but-”

“no buts. you’ve done enough for me tonight.”

but if there’s one thing about zayne that drives you mad, it’s that he knows when to use your weaknesses against you. he knows which parts of your bare skin to touch, what to say, how to say it. he knows that his hand sitting dangerously low on your back makes it hard for you to think of anything else. he knows that him leaning down to speak directly to your ear, hot breath fanning across cold skin, is enough to cloud your judgement.

“how about we do it together, then?”

bastard.

“fine…” you relent, knees feeling a little weak.

you two work in the kitchen like a perfectly well-oiled machine for the next half hour. he transfers all the leftovers into containers you plan on reheating over the week while you begin to scrub the plates clean.

"perhaps i did make too much…" he remarks at one point. it pulls a laugh out of you, and you bring your soap-covered hand to poke him in the cheek.

"cute." you mutter under your breath.

as the moon draws closer to its peak, you find yourself tucked in zayne’s arms, hiding under the sheets. the silk adds a layer of privacy, an added solace to the already peaceful four walls of your bedroom. and as you drift further into the land of your dreams, you think there's nothing else that could possibly be better than spending the rest of your life with zayne.

and maybe he has been sitting on the question for a while now. maybe he does have a tiny box tucked at the very back of his drawer, just waiting for the right moment to be worn on your ring finger.

[biibini]

nsfw alphabet: mizu

tags: the ICONIC NSFW alphabet, smut, modern!mizu, f!reader, mizu is a munch, dirty talk, praise, mizu (once again) has a DIRTY mouth, fingering, teasing, begging, she pussy whipped lets be real, aftercare, cum play, public sex, idk if a house party counts as public but shh, risky sex

a/n: i don’t think i got the guts and time to do smuttober but at least this is what i got (✿◦’ᴗ˘◦)♡ hope yall enjoy <3

18+ content below!

A — aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

i’ve written this a few times but mizu would be focused on making you as comfortable as possible

tea, cuddles, run a bath, kisses inbetween

the works

she doesn’t want it to ever feel like some transactional act

and focuses on being gentle despite how rough she may go

there’s a lot of love and care that you will get from her

B — Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

her arms are probably her favorite body part, especially after seeing the results from consistently going to the gym

but your body? it’s hard to pinpoint

she will embraces all parts of your body, curves and all

however, i think her favorite part would have to be your thighs

whether you’re sitting on her lap or on her face, she is pro-leg

she’s not too pda but if it’s on your bday, anniversary, or a special day, best believe her hand will be on your thigh when you sit together or in the car

when she’s driving a car, she loves to gently run her hand up and down… maybe even get a little close to tease you on the drive back home

C — Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

she don’t gaf: give a fuck!

messy, messy, messyyyyyy sex

she loves it on her face, tasting your juices after eating you out, licking it like her final meal

the feeling of you cumming by her tongue excites her

it’s like she’s obsessed with your taste

if it’s on her fingers, its licked clean before she puts them back inside again for another round

It’s late into the night and almost finishing the second round. It may just be the second, but my god, you were so drenched. On the other, Mizu was pussy-drunk and lapping away, your cum covering the lower half of her face.

You groan for the third time, feeling her needy tongue make contact with your puffy clit. A cry comes out when she inserts a digit into your soaking pit.

So overstimulating, yet so delicious.

You moan her name again. God, sex never felt so good.

D — Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

she’ll occasionally indulge in degredation during rough sex

if you guys haven’t seen each other in a while… oh that side of her is coming out

(thinking back to that blurb i wrote of her being mean during phone sex)

you have talked about it together with her about where your boundaries lie and you are okay

but she doesn’t want to do it all the time because she wants to make you feel so loved during the act

however,

(ahem)

you’re just so good to her

it’s hard to not call you her needy slut when she’s getting rough and extra mean

“You’re just too good for me, huh…”, Mizu teases, slowly pulling 3 digits out of your dripping entrance. She pulls out her slender fingers slowly, inch by inch. She then immediately inserts them back in, making you squelch as more of your juices get dispersed and flow out.

A gasp escaped out of your mouth, making your toes curl up. You know she can pull this stunt for hours, and you would still feel tight around her fingers.

You feel Mizu’s tongue lick up and around your entrance as her fingers went to work, fucking you at a slow but passionate pace, making you moan to her rhythm.

It had been a while since you and Mizu have spent the night together. From both of your busy schedules, finals, and Ringo being home more often, tonight was when he left to go home for break.

Mizu had been missing you this entire time, and here you are, moaning just from her fingers entering your core.

“More Mizu, please…”, you begged.

She moans your name, fastening her pace. You groan at the change of pace, her fingers penetrating your gummy walls, now quicker than ever.

it had been so long since you felt Mizu’s touch. You were so desperate to spend some time with her during finals week to blow off some steam and forget about everything except her. You wish you never got fucked over by your classmate who barely did any work and barely communicated with your group, making finals even more harder than it needed to be.

“My pretty girl… what a needy slut she can be.”, Mizu coos. All you could do was nod and moan even louder as her fingers started to curl in your wet insides.

E — Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

when you first met, she had little to no experience being with a woman besides kissing

but after experience with you…

oh she knows what spots to hit

and is MUCH more confident in her skills

F — Favorite position (this goes without saying)

nothing except missionary makes her go crazy

feeling your thighs against her waist and watching your face react to every thrust always ignites something in her

she enjoys being able to grab onto your hips for control

honestly, it gives her so much access to everything

You feel her slowly pull out, easing your muscles down below. Mizu snaps back in, making you groan for the millionth time.

You cry out her name as she continued the slow yet vigorous pace, slowly pulling out and filling you up quickly. Her grip tightens around your thighs, almost hot enough to burn your skin. You look up, your eyes meeting her gentle gaze. Her actions proved otherwise.

Mizu scans your body, panting as she continues the pace. You watch as her eyes slowly goes down. She can do nothing except stare at your fucked-out face and the mess you both created. This included her thrusts coming to a full stop inside you.

“Honey?”, you questioned.

Mizu snaps out of her stare.

“Yes?”

“Why did you stop? Is there something wrong? Did you forget the safeword?”

She looked down and back up at you. Mizu shook her head, laughing at what she just did. She comes close to your head, giving you a reassuring kiss.

“Sorry baby, I didn’t mean to stop. You’re just so beautiful.”

G — Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

she was more serious in the beginning

i blame m*k*o for making her feel so conscious ab her actions in the moment

but she’s become more humorous, especially if you started the moment with teasing

she’s a big fan of the “oh really?”

if you get really playful, her teases would get to you quickly

however, most sessions are serious and focused on both you and her feel good snd comfortable

she will always make sure to say she loves you and give you kisses during or after

H — Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

i feel like she would just trim and clean up around the edges

it just makes it easier for you to get better access

in general, she is well groomed and have good hygiene

I — Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

she is focused on you in those moments in bed or anywhere

she is such a sweet romantic in bed and aftercare

in most cases, she loves to praise you and make you feel so loved and well taken care of

Making out with her feels like a dream. Making out with her below you while her toy is inside of you is a whole other level of dreaming. As your lips interlock with hers, you continue your slow pace, up & down, letting her hands guide your hips to the rhythm. Your arms wrap tighter around her neck as you were begging for more.

Pulling out of the kiss, you start panting from the loss of oxygen. However, Mizu wanted more of you as well. You feel her left hand leave your hips, now making contact with your cheek. You’d think she would go back in for more kisses.

You were proven wrong.

Her hand pulling head to the side, giving her full access to your neck. Her lips gently brushing your lips, journeying down your neck, leaving behind small red markings at every stop.

“God, Honey, you smell…”, she stops to get close to your neck. You feel her breath tickling your ear.

“…so good.”

She pulls back to look at her work, now blooming into a vibrant shade of red. She grazes her hand over your neck, feeling the burning heat on your neck.

You look down at her expression, curious yet calm. Her eyes make contact with yours, watching you continue to get fucked by your favorite toy on top of her.

So pretty, Mizu thought.

She tucks your hair behind your right ear, gently cupping your face as the pace below slows down. You still bounce on the toy, feeling the toy fill you up. With every inch inside, it makes you moan in response, yet Mizu was being so soft with you above the waist.

“I love you, my pretty girl.”, she says, halting you to a stop, softly kissing you.

J — Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

she doesn’t do it unless she hasn’t seen you in a while

example: that one phone sex summer during your internship (deep-cut iykyk)

but she wouldn’t use toys on herself

she would imagine how you would act and your facial expressions

K — Kink (one or more of their kinks)

she’s mainly dominant but has those switch moments

but what rlly turns her on is hearing you praise her and calling out her name in the middle of the night

especially when you have to keep it quiet whenever Ringo is home (sorry Ringo)

watching you hold back your moans turns her on soooooo much you don’t even know

but if you two are home alone, best believe she’ll make sure to hear your cries

L — Location (favorite places to do the do)

her room since you both can get into the most comfortable positions on her bed

and she values your comfort

however…

one of the most exciting places was doing it on her motorcycle during sunset (yes its possible)

during the final days of summer break, she decided to show you a secluded cliffside viewpoint of the ocean of her hometown

(and thank god she brought the backpack)

because one kiss led to a makeout session which lead to you bent over her motorcycle seat, gripping onto it as she’s pumping a toy in and out of your dripping entrance

and then further proceeding to her eating you out, spreading cum all over her face

would you ever do it again? probably not

was it sexy as hell? well yes!

M — Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

genuinely hearing your voice get louder and watching your reaction keeps her going

and seeing how wet you get turns her on sooo much

if you guys have one little makeout session and she feels that you’re already soaking wet, she’ll be way more turned on than you

“You’re this wet already?”, Mizu teases. You feel her fingers run up your thighs again, meeting with your soaked panties. She’s always surprised to find you this way after a couple kisses.

Too shy to admit it, you nodded in response.

In return, you feel Mizu’s lips connect with yours again. They slowly start to trail down to your neck, your weakest spot. There, you feel her fingers push against your heat, throbbing with your heartbeat.

Mizu moves closer to your ear. Her breath tickles you, but she wasn’t talking about a laughing matter.

“Let’s go home and finish this.”

N — No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

i genuinely feel like she would not be down for choking

a light hold… maybe…

she doesn’t want to put you in danger or squeeze your neck wrong (sowwy)

O — Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

her preference? give, give, and giveeeee

she appreciated receiving, don’t get me wrong

but she just loves to give it to you and hear you babble her name again and again and again

as for skill, she’s had to face the learning curve of going down on you

she barely did oral from her previous relationship and now she’s in a completely different sector

however, she is a fast learner (and so is her tongue who said that one)

P — Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

its a 70/30 sensual vs. rough

she loves to explore and touch every part of you, leaving kisses or little reminders (hickies hehe <3)

and squeeze your thighs as she eats you out slowly, touching every crevice with her tongue and fingers

and feel your reaction with every kiss, especially when you squirm and tighten up whenever she kisses your inner thigh

but sometimes, she gets so into it and that she needs more

that hunger for more of you can get a little rough

still loving but good lord

she’s so touchy and her grasp on you tightens

whenever she gets rougher, you can see the hunger in her eyes

nothing else but dark blue orbs, consumed with longing, staring at you when you look down

when it gets rough, she becomes even more of a tease

usually, she’s sweet and teases you a little before giving you all the praise and love

but teasing while playing rough is soooooo goood

she’ll purposely twist a little harder when she plays with your breasts

or lightly bite your inner thigh before leaving another mark

or finger fucking you faster when you finish, successfully covering her with your juices

Q — Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

she isn’t too fond of quickies just because she hates to speed up the whole process of playing with you

unless she’s desperate

if you’re out in public, best believe she’ll calm you down and tell you to wait until you guys got home

quickies at home? maybe

if you have been wet all day, then yes she would be so down

quickies out in public? ohhh she would love to play that game in a secluded area

far away from everyone and all she can hear is your voice as she pumps two of her digits into you? sign her up!

R — Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

the more she knows you, the more riskier she can get

at first, she wants to make sure that you are okay with everything

even the little things (soooooo sweet)

but a little squeeze here, a rough grasp there

she becomes more open to new things

she loves to experiment with location

a little part inside of her gets off to the risk of getting caught

one time, it got really close at one of taigen’s typically “tame” kickbacks

those were never chill

You watch Ringo pour the jungle juice into your red solo cup. It’s mysterious blue color makes you truly wonder if the drink is “water”, as marked by the sloppy handwriting on the jug’s label.

“Good god, what did Taigen pour in here?”

“Whaaaat?”, Ringo yells. You can barely comprehend him through the loud beats and talking around you. Taigen’s parties were usually full, but seeing this many people packed into the house was surprising.

“I said, What did Taigen”, you point out towards the living room, where Taigen was spotted busting a move the dance floor, “put in here?”, you yell back, now pointing at your cup.

You watch Ringo’s mouth make a little “o”, and then shrug. Oh of course. There always has to be something different with the water at his party.

You sigh and give Ringo a defeated smile, hoping to find Mizu. You take a sup of the supposed “water”, and oh boy it was strong.

You had split from her earlier when Akemi came in and brought all the girls, leaving Taigen and his frat brothers to go kinda really crazy. As happy as you were for both parties, it ended up dividing you and Mizu.

You felt you phone ding against your skirt pocket. It’s a notification from Mizu.

Thank god you charged it before coming here.

You read:

Upstairs by the boys’ game room.

Look up.

Looking up, Mizu is a lighthouse in a sea of drunk college students. You beam at her, and she responds with a smile, cheering with a solo cup in hand. As you climb up the steps, you hear the DJ turn up Fein by Travis Scott.

Oh god, Taigen is going to go crazy.

You climb up the stairs to meet Mizu.

“Finally found you. I’d thought I lost you.”, you tease.

“I’ll always find you.”, Mizu responds.

You feel her arm wrap around your waist, pulling you into a needy kiss.

Woah, where’d that come from.

You pull back, smiling at the sudden move. You smell her breath, minty with a little hint from the blue raspberry drink.

“Hon?”, you ask

Mizu hums in response.

“How much did you drink?”

Mizu stares into her cup. Only a few gulps were left from her filled solo cup. So maybe she did drink a little too much with some of the brothers.

Was it to out-chug Taigen? Maybe.

Is it all hitting now? Maybe.

“Mmmm— a bit.”

Screams of people fill up the room as you spot Taigen bouncing around the dance room, crowded around his friends as they chant along to the song, putting the spotlight on him. While others joined the floor, you were distracted with Mizu’s lips placing kisses down to your neck, lightly nibbling near your ear.

“Mizu!”, you quietly yelped.

She couldn’t care less about the party once her lips locked with yours again. Something about that water was dangerous, and she was fully aware when Taigen challenged her to a chug battle and show off his proclaimed “chug jug skills”.

Did Mizu know the consequences? Maybe.

Did she win? Yes.

Was she dizzy from the mystery water? No.

The only thing making her feel dizzy was your touch, and boy did it feel sinfully good when you said her name.

“C’mere.”, Mizu commanded, pulling you by your hand down the hallway.

Now where the hell was she taking you?

“Mizu, where are we-“, you say as she pulls you to the bathroom down the hall.

She silently closes the door. Although the bathroom isn’t too small, there’s only a small window above the toilet. The moonlight and the glow of the string lights below lit up the bathroom. You hear the lock click, making you wonder what the hell you two were doing-

“Honey, what’s going on…”, you question.

Looking up to Mizu’s face, you see her deep ocean blue eyes stare back, needy and almost desperate. Her mind raced with a single thought: she needed you, so so badly.

Mizu closed the gap between the two of you, placing her hands on your hips, gently feeling you up and down. Her touches, simple yet speak so much. The light callouses of her fingers line up and down your back, sending light shivers down your spine. You wrap your arms around your neck, pulling her closer. The heat from her cheeks meet yours, every touch more hotter than the last.

You feel the alcohol from the drink kick in, making you off balance. Mizu quickly pulls you up on the bathroom counter, pulling your waist closer to her. You feel a hand let go of your side, slowly inching between your thighs.

She could care less about the party, the noise, the thumping bass, Taigen, and everyone else. All that matters is how enticing you were.

“Mizu! We’re going to get caught!”, you whisper shout.

Mizu continued to tease, as her hand was now by your inner thigh.

“Do you not want to?”, she barely whispered before slowly making her way down.

Right before you could answer, you feel Mizu’s finger brush your panties, soaked from the overwhelming amount of excitement from outside. You feel her hands gently fold up your skirt, the cool sink tile resting against your burning thighs more as the higher the fabric goes. The more she inched down, the more the alcohol started to drown out the music.

All you could feel was the faint bumps of the base and the burning, twisted feeling building up in your core. Of all places, a house party??

You look down to see Mizu’s face, only a couple inches from your entrance. Her cheeks tinted red from the alcohol, both hands handling each thigh. Her dark blue eyes staring up at you, waiting for your response.

“So what will it be?”

You feel her breath tickling your panties. God, you needed her, now. So what if every frat brother is going crazy to Fein? You got other things to worry about.

“Yes, please… Mizu just, please.”, you muster out.

Mizu quickly acts, instantly pulling the panties to side as she licks up once. She pulls away, feeling the slick slowly run down her bottom lip to her chin.

Fuck, she thought. She didn’t anticipate you being this turned on. Especially with how public this is with the open window.

She also didn’t anticipate how much this turned her on too.

Before going back in, she swiftly pulls your legs a little farther apart, giving space for her to kiss you down your inner thigh, back to your sopping wet entrance. Mizu’s face is instantly covered with your slick.

You feel her tongue enter inside you, a wet and warm feeling fills you, making you moan in response. Instantly, you realize how loud you are and hold back, trying to fight back any possibility of noise before you get caught.

The thought of being found in this state is so horrifying… yet oddly thrilling at the same time. It’s so—

“A-ah Mizu…”, you cry out.

You feel a digit enter you, sharing the space with her tongue. You mew in response, your back arching from the pleasure, further deepening their reach. Both filled you up so well, you didn’t know what you would do without them. As you stretch back, Mizu continues her pace, slowly stretching you with every filling pump.

Her agonizing pace continues as you hear your voice start to echo against the cool tiled walls. With every pump, you feel your thighs wrap around Mizu’s head, your hips attempting to rock into her mouth. Going back and forth, you don’t even realize how long its been until you moan her name.

Mizu slowly pulls out. You think she was finished until you feel full once again, now 2 digits deep inside you. Before you can fully register the feeling, Mizu’s tongue swiftly glide over your clit, further stimulating you.

What the fuck was in that “water”??

You moan out Mizu’s name again, louder than the first time, as you feel her fingers continue that slow pace, fully pushing inside of you, and barely pulling out before she enters you again. As she continued to stretch your insides, all you could do was hold on to dear life.

It’s like you could feel everything: the dizziness of the alcohol, the faint feeling of the boosted base thumping, the whispers of conversations coming from the window, the wet squelches of Mizu’s work, the increasing pace of her fingers continuing to stretch you out. And it felt so sinfully good.

That is, until you hear a voice.

“Y/N? You up here?”, Akemi calls out.

Shit.

Both of you freeze. You scramble to find your phone as you hear Akemi call out your name again. You feel your phone vibrate, the ringtone barely humming.

She’s calling you.

Oh god, please don’t be serious.

You pick up the call, your bottom half still frozen against Mizu.

“Hello?”

“Oh my god, Y/N, where are you?”

“In one of the bathrooms. Whats-“, You feel Mizu’s tongue enter inside you again. Holy shit.

“What’s up is that I’m ditching this party. One of the boys was acting so weird with me and my friends and I’m just sooo icked out.”

You try to listen as Akemi continued to ramble on about one of the new brothers while your mind is busy holding back your moans. Mizu inserts the two digits back, curling inside you with every thrust.

You look down to stare at Mizu, busy with her work, and trying to stay as silent as possible. She looks up at you, smiling back at you. You watch as her mouth pulls away from your entrance to your inner thigh, leaving kisses and hickeys inches away from your sopping wet core.

“Anyways, Y/N, just wanted to let you know before I go. If you’re down, come meet us at the In-N-Out. I think I need a different meat tonight.”

You laugh at her joke, continuing to suppress any moans as Mizu’s fingers increase their pace.

“Alright Akemi. I might see you there- ah-”

You feel the pace slow down, as another finger gets added inside, stretching you further, before continuing their original pace. You feel Mizu’s thumb ghost over your clit, continuing to circle around the throbbing muscle.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I just, I thought I ran out of toilet paper.”, you say as you start to grind your hips against Mizu’s wrist, adding more stimulation to your clit.

“Okay. See you maybe there. Bye byeeee!”, Akemi says, ending the call.

You quickly shut your phone off, now able to focus on Mizu.

“You’re so good at keeping quiet.”, Mizu teases.

You wish you could tell Mizu to shut up, but only moans come out of your mouth as her pace fastens. The way that her fingers continue to easily stretch you from your slick, her thumb playing with your clit, and her eyes, hungry for your release, was making you reach the top faster than you ever could.

“Fuck, Mizu I’m going to—”

“Right on my face, baby.”, she says.

You reach the peak. Your legs start to shiver against Mizu, squeezing her more than ever. You feel her fingers pull out as she replaces it with her face, licking up every drop of your warm liquid.

S — Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

with her stamina… she can go for a couple rounds

realistically, 4-5 rounds

due to her athleticism, the rounds can last a long while, maybe even 45 to an hour for just one round

no matter how many rounds, rhe final one will always be the sloppiest and she eats it up everytime

T — Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

duh, they have the backpack

it’s mainly for your pleasure

obviously, she comes strapped

(haha get it)

a few vibrators

however, she wouldn’t be opposed for you to try them on her or together

U — Unfair (how much they like to tease)

as i’ve stated many times, she is such a sweet and loving girlfriend

she teases you if you’re being playful

it’s not usually verbal teasing but more physical teasing such as tickling you or playing with your face

she can’t help that you’re her cutie girlfriend

V — Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

ohhhh she’s loud, whether she’s top or not

she uses her words, and its DIRTYYYY and possessive

“such a good girl”

“you’re my pretty girl”

“i know you can take it, you’re doing so well already”

W — Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

she loves being squished by your thighs whenever she eats you out, especially when you place your legs on her shoulders

something ab the skin to skin feeling surrounding her by her cheeks, in front of her, on her shoulders

it’s so intimate and such a turn on for her

and she’s able to watch the rest of your reaction by looking up

X — X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

she’s more on the leaner side but you can spot some muscle

she’s a gym rat she got abs

they developed a while after Taigen proposed some elbow plank competition at the gym with her

in typical fashion, the competitive spirit in Mizu decided to challenge Taigen

they’re not chiseled but when you’re leaning against her, you can feel them and those babies are hard

Y — Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

high.

she never realized it with her previous relationship but it is ridiculously high

even when you’ve finished, she will keep it going and help you get to the next high again and again

her stamina does help increase her sex drive

and totally not your reaction when you finish every time

Z — Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep)

it takes a while for her to fall asleep

besides cuddling, a warm bath with you is the best aftercare

with a few candles (scented of course)

some bubbles

so she’ll stay up to make sure both of you are clean and warm and content

if she has enough energy, she’ll throw your towels in the dryer so that both of you get to wrap yourselves in warm towels

once she changes back into pajamas and is cuddling with you, that’s when she gets really sleepy

maybe a good night kiss or two <33

[unearthly-doting]

finding their soulmate: genshin edition.

a/n: i haven't made a post here in a hot second and i honestly apologize about that lol. the motivation to write just hasn't been there but!! here's a small lil genshin post for now. i just spun a wheel to pick who i write but if u want me to write for some of the others then just lmk!!

includes: xiao, kaeya, kujou sara, albedo, tartaglia, and ayato.

warnings: mdni, yandere content, not edited, gn reader, kidnapping, forced relationships, arranged marriage, manipulation, reader injury in both kujou sara's, albedo's and tartaglia's parts, childe stabs you :peace sign:, canon is a very vague concept in my writing more often than not btw, this is kinda cringey </3, the yandere content in albedo's part is actually very mild bc i was restraining myself bc there was a lot i wanted to do w it.

XIAO — never really cared much about finding his soulmate. His entire existence was dedicated to protecting Liyue, even if the nation no longer needed his protection. Besides, with how long he's been around, he just assumed his soulmate was long dead and that he'd never meet them. Though, a small part of him wondered... what was his soulmate like?

And, almost as if the universe had been listening, he ends up meeting you. His soulmate. It wasn't a classic, romantic meeting. He didn't save your life or anything like that. You were just a traveler who decided to stay at the inn.

He didn't think much of you until his eyes met yours and suddenly color was flooding into his world. It made him dizzy, and it stunned him into absolute silence because all he could so was stare at you with wide eyes.

You were clearly going through it as well, because obviously. You just met your fucking soulmate on a damn business trip. What the hell were you supposed to do now? It would be awkward to just... ignore what had happened, right? I mean, he's staring right at you and this was all just very overwhelming.

It was an awkward first meeting, that's for sure.

But during your time at the inn, whenever you were free from work, you spent it with Xiao. He was closed off, clearly keeping his guard up and not letting you get too close. You didn't know the reasons, but you didn't expect him to tell you his entire life story just because you two were apparently bound by the universe.

Honestly, you just assumed he didn't want to be with his soulmate. This didn't upset you. It wouldn't work out, anyway. You're only staying for a few weeks before heading home.

But archons, did Xiao want you. Behind his typical, distant behavior, Xiao was taking note of everything about you. Your interests, your habits, your sleep schedule, your favorite foods and desserts... everything you told him or subconsciously revealed, Xiao was tucking it away in his mind.

He wanted you. He wanted you to stay here, in Liyue, with him. Where you belong. But he didn't know how to express that. He's never been in love before, and it's not like he'll just suddenly become an expert at romance after meeting you.

When it was time for you to leave, he was crushed. He needed you to stay. He needed you by his side. Letters wouldn't be enough to fill the emptiness in your wake if you left. You had to stay.

You will stay.

And when you wake up to find yourself no longer in the inn, and instead in some small home deep within the mountains of Liyue, you're distraught.

Xiao looks genuinely guilty, robbing you of your freedom but... you understand, don't you? You have to understand. He just couldn't let you go. You're his soulmate, you were destined to be with him! You'll love it here, he'll make sure of it.

Just stay.

KAEYA — had always wondered what his soulmate was like ever since he was a child. He would spend hours just staring at the small crescent moon forever stained on his wrist, wondering if and when he'll meet the person with a matching mark.

Of course, as he got older he spent less time thinking about such things, though he did always hold out hope that he might be able to one day meet his soulmate. Little did he know, he's met his soulmate already. Multiple times.

You took over Sara's shifts at the Good Hunter whenever she had other things she needed to focus on, so Kaeya has spoken with you on numerous occasions, he's just never realized you were his soulmate because you keep your wrists covered. He's not one to judge, his wrists aren't visible either.

Him finding out was an accident. You had been handing him his order when your sleeves rolled up a bit, and his gaze just so happened to look at your wrists and he saw the very same crescent moon that was on his.

And for a moment, he froze. He just stared. Long enough that you were starting to feel a little uncomfortable. But before you could awkwardly send him on his way, he was showing you the crescent moon on his wrist as well and thus began your love story.

Or... well... it's what Kaeya had hoped for, but you didn't seem interested in soulmates at all. You didn't want the universe to decide who you were meant to be with, you wanted to make that decision yourself, so you had, to put it simply, bluntly rejected him.

And he gets it! It hurts, sure. He spent his entire life dreaming of this day, and it's not turning out the way he had hoped, but... you guys can be friends, at least, right? No strings attached?

For a while, Kaeya was fine with that. You and he had a really strong friendship. He cared about you, and you cared about him. Though your feelings were platonic, he was holding on to the hope that maybe one day, you'll realize you two were meant to be together.

But it was starting to seem as though that day might never come, because almost a year into your friendship with him, you had told Kaeya that you were thinking about entering the dating scene. He was... not too pleased about that, honestly. It was pretty obvious too, the way his entire mood soured the moment you brought the topic up.

He didn't stand by idly while this happened. Any person he saw you chatting up with romantic intentions would suddenly avoid you like the plague the next time you saw them. Any blind dates would end with you being ghosted. Hell, even some of your friends, the ones who were helping you get dates, were starting to avoid you too. It was so confusing.

But not Kaeya. No, Kaeya was always by your side.

Whenever you needed him, he was there. He always seemed to be able to make time for you. He listened to you vent your frustrations out, never once judging you or telling you that you were being dramatic. He was the only constant in your life these days.

Of course, you were completely oblivious to the fact that he was the cause of all of this. It's not that hard to blackmail people, he's learned. But they didn't deserve you anyway, seeing how easily they gave up on you the moment he approached them.

Maybe... maybe dating Kaeya wouldn't be so bad... I mean, you're the one deciding this, right? The universe isn't having any play in it. This is your decision. Isn't it?

KUJOU SARA — never cared about her soulmate. She knew she had one, you were in every dream she had. She found it to be more of a nuisance than anything else.

Her entire life was dedicated to her training, and to the Raiden Shogun. She neither had the time, nor the interest in searching for her soulmate. Besides, it didn't seem as if you resided in Inazuma. Your clothing was similar what people in Fontaine wear, and Fontaine was far away from Inazuma.

She was confident that she wouldn't be meeting you any time soon, so she never gave you any thought when she was awake. She never made any plans on what she would do if she did, by any chance, meet you. It didn't matter.

And she can't help but regret that, now that you're standing in front of her. If she had known that meeting her soulmate would make her feel like this, as if everything in the world suddenly made sense, then... well... she doesn't know what she would've done, to be honest.

No matter, Sara had no time to entertain you. Your stay in Inazuma was only temporary, so she saw no point in trying to form a bond with you. You, however, seemed to have different plans. She was used to seeing you in her dreams every night, but she was not used to seeing you in her waking moments.

Whenever she wasn't preoccupied with something, you were there to offer her company. It was annoying, and she's sent you away more than once, but that didn't seem to deter you. If anything, you seemed to become more determined each time she brushed you off.

At some point, she had given up on avoiding you. It was easier to just let you stick around. And, the more time she spent with you, the more attached she was becoming. It wasn't smart, she knew that, but could you blame her? You're so... irrevocably you.

Her fondness for you didn't go unnoticed.

Many people in Inazuma treated you with the same respect they treated Sara. You were her soulmate, after all. Should someone insult you, they would in turn be insulting her. Nobody wanted to get on her bad side.

There were, however, a few bad apples.

It should come as no surprise that a target was placed on your back the moment people took notice of Sara's attachment to you. She didn't think she'd have to worry much, because no one would be idiotic enough to actually try and harm you under her watch, but she should've known better.

It happened a few days before you were set to leave Inazuma to return home. A disturbance was going on within the city so Sara wasn't with you when you went on your daily walk just outside of it. It was supposed to be safe, but it wasn't.

Some vagrants had got the jump on you, and you nearly lost your life. You were lucky enough to have been found by some bystanders, but Sara was less than pleased when she heard about this. She had never taken pleasure in killing anyone before, but there was a deep-rooted sense of satisfaction deep within her chest when she watched the lives of those who hurt you fade away.

And as she sat by your side, waiting for you to wake up, she came to a decision. You can't be alone. If you are, you'll get hurt, and she won't be able to protect you. She can't let you leave Inazuma. She knows you'll more than likely hate her for making this decision for you, but if it means she can keep you safe, keep you alive and by her side, then... that hatred is something she'll be willing to bear.

ALBEDO — doesn't have a soulmate. At least, he's not supposed to. He's an artificial being, so it wouldn't make sense for him to have a soulmate. Of course, he does find the concept of soulmates to be intriguing. Who, or what, decides who people are destined to be with? It's a question he hopes to find an answer to.

So he wasn't surprised when he found you passed out in the snow, deep within Dragonspine. He's seen this countless times before, travelers who don't take precautions before trying to brave the deadly cold that comes with being here. He assumed he would just nurse you back to health and you would go on your merry way.

That changed, however, when he was cleaning your wounds and he saw his name inked on your skin, right on your collarbone. In his handwriting, at that. It confused him, because... that would mean that he's your soulmate. But he can't be. And yet, it didn't come off when he tried wiping it off. It was a part of your skin.

This left him with many questions, though none of them got answered when you woke up. You couldn't remember much about yourself, other than your name and a few other details. You didn't even know why you were in Dragonspine, or where you were from. You did hit your head pretty badly, judging from the headwound, so that would explain the amnesia, though he's not sure if it was going to be something temporary or not.

You both decided it would be best to just have you stay here until you were able to recover some of your memories and although Albedo wasn't eager to make friends with you, he was grateful for the company. He was incredibly patient with you too, answering any questions you may have had ranging from a multitude of different topics.

And in return, you helped out as much as you could without overexerting yourself and making your injuries worse. You'd make sure to keep his little lab tidy when he was away. You'd help out with some of his experiments too, if he knew you wouldn't get hurt doing so.

All while trying to figure out how he could possibly be your soulmate. He checked over himself. Four times. Your name was nowhere on his body. So why? Why was his name on yours? As much as he hates to admit it, he thinks he may never get an answer to this mystery.

Though... that's not such a bad thing, he thinks. He finds himself enjoying your company more and more with each passing day, the whole soulmate thing rarely even crossed his mind. At least, until you had asked him why his name was permanently etched into your skin. It was fairly easy to explain everything to you, though he was unable to answer a few of your questions, sadly. Soulmates were still a mystery, after all.

And when you asked if you could write your name on him so you two could match, he found himself unable to say no. He found himself unable to speak at all, actually, as you wrote your name on his shoulder. You even added a little heart next to it.

But no, Albedo was too busy coming to terms with the feelings he has for you. They weren't new. He's been aware of them for a week or so now, he just never gave it much thought until now. Now, with you so close to him, it was simply impossible to ignore.

And once you pull away, you smile at him and say, "There! Now I'm your soulmate too, right?" And oh.

Oh.

There was no way Albedo was going to let you leave Dragonspine now.

TARTAGLIA — feels a little bad for his soulmate, whoever they are. They can feel his pain, and he can feel theirs. So... they probably hate his guts, considering he's not the most careful person in the world. He pushes himself to his limits and beyond, and his soulmate has no doubt felt every single second of it.

Don't get him wrong, he would love to meet his soulmate. It's been a dream of his since he was a child, always eager to hear the story of how his mom and dad found out they were soulmates. Even as he grew older, the desire never went away. It was just... buried.

And his soulmate just so happened to be you, the significant other of a man who owed the Northland Bank a lot of money. He doesn't normally partake in debt collections, but he didn't have anything better to do so he decided to take this one on. He was going to use you as an example to your husband, though the moment his blade stabbed you, he froze.

He felt the pain. He stabbed you, and he could feel it. Oh fuck, he just stabbed his soulmate. That's definitely not the picturesque first meeting he was hoping for. Probably wouldn't be a good idea to tell his family this either...

Stabbing aside, he was utterly delighted. You, on the other hand, were terrified. Not only did this man just fucking stab you, his expression went from bored to something akin to crazed glee. He stared at you with a hunger that made you want to shy away from his gaze.

He doesn't care that you're already in a relationship with someone else. Not anymore, you're not. You're his, destined by the stars or however the story goes. And if your lover tries to get you back, he'll just kill them. Easy as that. Absolutely nothing will get in the way of him having you.

And he likes that you fight back against him. He especially loves it when you manage to escape. Hell, sometimes he'll even let you go just so he can chase you down again. It sends a thrill through him like no other when he catches you, and you stare at him teary-eyed and out of breath.

You're always so scared that he'll hurt you, but he would never do such a thing. He treats you like you're royalty, spoiling you with a seemingly endless amount of gifts. You're not quite sure how he knows what you like, and you're too hesitant to ask.

Honestly... he'd probably let you stab him. Y'know, he stabbed you, so it's only fair that you get to stab him in turn, right?

You think not. You're very hesitant, staring at him as though he were insane for even proposing such an idea. A part of him was disappointed. He wanted one of the many scars on his body to be from you. But a much larger part can't help but go soft at the sight of you shaking your head, sternly refusing to hurt him.

If he wasn't obsessed with you before, he certainly was now. You're too good. Too kind. He's holding you captive (lovingly, of course) and you refuse to hurt him? You don't even want to pinch him? How adorable.

Why, if he didn't know any better, he'd think that you might care about him.

He was nothing if not stubborn, of course. You might not care about him now, but you will in the future. He'll make sure of it.

After all, he's spent his whole life waiting for you.

AYATO — never had the time to think of his soulmate. He was blessed (or cursed, depending on who you ask) with the ability to see the red strings that tied people together. When he was younger, before having to take on the duties of the Kamisato name, he would always stare at the one tied to his pinkie.

He even has the habit of twirling the red string around his finger whenever he gets stressed. Only behind closed doors, of course. It would probably appear strange to others if they saw.

Meeting his soulmate was something he had always planned out in his head as a child, and when he finally did meet you, it was so... simple. There was nothing magical about it, you had just bumped into him one day when he was out in the city and that's what started all of this.

For you, it was a forgettable encounter, one that would never cross your mind again. For him, it was everything he had been waiting for. Thoma thought it was a bit strange, but he dutifully gathered information about you when Ayato asked it of him. He needed to know everything there was to know about you.

He already knew what he was going to do when he met his soulmate, the only thing left was to actually do it. And you were definitely shocked when Kamisato Ayato himself showed up at your home and asked you to marry him.

You said no, obviously, because why the hell would you agree to marry someone you didn't know? Ayato had planned for this, of course. That's why he had Thoma learn everything about you, so the moment you declined his offer, he just smiled and made a comment about your family. It was very obvious what he was implying.

And even if you aren't close with your family, you can't live with blood on your hands. You were pretty much forced into accepting Ayato's marriage proposal. He was pleased with this outcome, promising to take care of everything himself.

Marrying him meant that you would, unfortunately, have to leave your home and instead live at the Kamisato Estate. Everyone was under the impression that this marriage was one of love and not coercion. You highly doubt that anyone would believe you if you told them the truth, and you were too concerned about what the consequences would be if you did.

Everyone at the estate was nice to you, at least, though the only people allowed to actually get close to you were Ayaka and Thoma.

And when the wedding was over, it was time for your honeymoon. You were not excited about that, but it seemed Celestia itself was on your side during that time because he was too busy to spend time with you.

If he wasn't threatening the lives of your family, you would have made numerous escape attempts by now. Still, you've made it very clear that you hate his guts.

Your hatred is something he detests, though he can't fault you for it. He understands that what he's forced you into is wrong, but in his mind, it was something that had to be done. He's sure that given enough time and space, you'll grow to understand why he did what he did.

And even though you scorn his existence, Ayato looks at you as if you've placed the stars in the sky.

Your strings are forever tied together, so there's no getting out of this. He doesn't plan on ever letting you go. He'd be a terrible husband if he didn't keep you close, wouldn't he?

[mintmatcha]

I am so soft for father figure Shinsou, thank you for giving me something I didn’t know I needed. Just doing everyday things with him and him being soft towards you child is giving me life.

Casual. That's the word you used to describe what the meeting should be. Casual.

"He's a good boy, for the most part." Your bag is already stuffed full of toys and towels and other miscellaneous things that Shinso can't imagine you'll need. "His dad spoils him, so he might be a little bratty at first- we're working on it. Well, I'm working on it. His dad is--"

You kneel down and start rummaging through your things.

"Uh, don't let him guilt you into buying him snacks, please. He's got a severe nut and seed allergy and it's just easier if I take care of it all. There's snacks in here, along with two epipens. There's two more in the red cabinet in the kitchen, just in case we ever need them. "

Somehow, you manage to wiggle out the sunscreen for your bag without collapsing the whole pile. You dollop a bit on your fingers.

"Once they get here, we'll go straight to the park and hang out there for just a little bit. The book says the first meeting should be short and we should give him other things to focus out so he doesn't stress out." Your shoulders are bunched by your ears. "It'll be super casual. Easy. No stress."

Shinso kneels down next to you and dips a finger in the sunscreen.

"No stress," Shinso repeats back, dotting the sunscreen on your nose. It's enough to urge a smile out of you.

"Sorry, I know I'm--" You toss your hands in the air, frazzled, but with a smile. "This is a big deal."

"I know it is."

"We've only been dating for eight months," you say/ "What if we're jumping the gun? I don't want to put him through this if-"

"I'm not planning on breaking up with you." Ever. Shinso wouldn't have agreed to this if he wasn't completely sure that you were the one for him. It's not that he doesn't like children, it's that he's never spent time with any. Only child, no cousins: he doesn't know anything about kids other than the fact he used to be one.

You reach other and dot Shinso's nose with sunscreen. Now, you're matching.

"You might break up with me after you see what I'm dealing with."

Shinso takes your hand. "I'm not going to leave because you have a kid."

"I was talking about his father," you heave out a sigh. "They'll probably be late, by the way."

-

They are late.

Significantly.

It's six hours past the allotted time, filled with weak excuses from you. The television has rolled into the second season of some trashy show, but neither of you are really watching.

"He always loses track of time," you repeat for the twentieth time, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. Shinso is long past disappointed, well into the area of 'pissed'. Mostly at your ex, partially at you, for letting it happen.

"He's still not calling you back?"

"No," you say, just like you've said before. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have let him know about you, he's just-- I dunno. Playing games with me again."

It contextualizes a lot of your behaviors, actually. The anxiety about getting home, the days you go radio silent, the dates where you suddenly have to run off and collect your child: he imagines there's a lot of bullshit games that happen between you two.

"You let him treat you like this?"

"He's my baby's father. I can't just..."

[messenger-of-babel]

Home is Where the Heart is

Summary: You could never tell what Jason was thinking, and this particular night he has a lot on his mind. (Jason Todd x reader)

Word Count: 2.0K

Notes: Mini vent- had a bad day and this week has been really tough so I’m changing up the layout of today as well so I could put out a fic that was a little easier on my mind (I always need to have more pep in my step when I write for my lanterns idk why haha. So sorry Kyle my baby I want to do you justice so you're on backburner). It was indeed written to Ed Sheeran on loop cause I needed to lock in fr. ❤️❤️

Enjoy Lovelies~! xx

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When Jason looked at you, you often wondered what he was thinking.

What was passing through his mind that made his irises gleam that brilliant shade of emerald or let the natural curve of his smile adored his face. However, every time that you asked he just blew his hair from his eyes gruffly, but let the smile stay. "That's a secret," he'd say before his hand would pull you to kiss side and he'd press a soft kiss on your forehead.

It was a little known fact that the Red Hood was in fact Jason Todd, but it was known to even less that Jason Todd was actually a romantic at heart. Sure, he had a mouth on him, and he was on the receiving end of your hand up the back of his head more often than he wasn't. But he was also the quiet kind of clingy, the kind that would never ask to hug you or initiate contact, but would stay up so he could have your back pressed against his chest the second you slipped into bed. He'd laugh when you brushed the hair out of his eyes, the scar on the corner of his mouth unable to stop his boyish grin. It was those moments in your kitchen that made you think that maybe, just maybe, your life was all normal.

You knew it wasn't.

When your fingers brush against his forehead you know that the white tuft in his hair was a painful reminder of his death, the scar on his lips you so lovingly kissed caused by the very man who had killed him. His hands were littered with small scars from blocking knives and protecting his head from glass instead of childhood memories of climbing trees. His back was a canvas of white slashes that intersected in a map-like pattern, a surface already so touched that the symmetrical red lines you left seemed less stunning in comparison. Legs sporting burn marks, bruises permanent along his ribs; that was the Jason that you knew. So even if some days you pretended that he was some ordinary civilian like yourself, you still loved Jason with all your heart.

On this particular night he had come home from patrol, sitting on the kitchen counter while you patched him up. You had been a pretty awful field doctor the first time you offered, but he braved through your prods and pokes with a wince. He didn't say anything about the way you wrapped the bandages too loosely or that you had forgotten some antiseptic and had given the wrong type of topical painkiller. Jason could see the worry on your face, so he leant forward and kissed your forehead tiredly, thanking you with a soft murmur.

You didn't need to know when he slunk off the bathroom to rewrap the bandages, or when he reapplied ointment in the right area. He picked glass out of his own skin when you missed some, letting the shards clatter down the sink. All that consumed him was the thought of how soft you were when you handled him, when you passed the bandage around his middle, or when you tried to clean the wound with as little antiseptic as possible to try and prevent the stinging. He normally hated having to doctor himself up, meaning that even the smallest of injuries tended to scar under his negligence. Yet with you he had been ashamed of the scars, hyper aware of how your eyes lingered on them. More so, how other people stared at them when you were out together. So, for months he spent nights in the bathroom redoing the handiwork you insisted so passionately on learning, just so that there wouldn't be a scar you could blame yourself for later.

You were absolutely perfect, so there was no reason that he couldn't be for you too.

You had become better though, and that was through the help of Alfred. Now you had patched him up efficiently and tightly, patting his hip affectionately when you pull the bandage tight. "Almost done," you smile up at him, fingers pulling the end of the bandage tight and reaching for a bandage clip. "Just got to secure it and you'll be good to go."

He smiles and drops a tired kiss to your skin as usual, pulling your fingers away when you’re done so he can raise them to his lips. "Thanks, darl." he grins, eyes tired but grin still lively as ever. He slides off the counter to wrap his hands around your waist, kissing your nose. You just huff and give him a side glance, arms circling his neck without hesitation.

"What's got you all worked up?" you ask with a light laugh when he’s overly affectionate with you, making Jason groan and drop his head into your hair.

"Just tired." he mumbles. "Bruce pissed me off again today, started lecturing me on the way home."

"Bruce pisses you off most days." you chide. "How did you ever escape the lecture?" you chuckle, moving with him as he begins to sway.

"I turned the commlink off and came up through Southside Gotham so he couldn't follow me." he grins.

There it was.

"There's always something with you, isn't there?" you shake your head, beginning to spin around with him softly in the candlelight. He laughs, and you imagine it’s the sound of a young boy finally getting to live life normally again.

"Always is, babe. you know me." he chuckles, and his eyes flutter over to the candles you have on the counter. It was always dark when he came home normally, and in his tired state he hadn't questioned it. After all, his family worked best in the dark.

"Power outage at the moment?" he asks.

"Power got cut off." you murmur back with a sigh. "We missed last payment. Only a few days, but you know how quick they jump on those these in Gotham. It's all paid up now, but it'll take a day or two to get back. Cold things from the freezer are in the washing machine with the ice blocks."

He hums, stroking a hand up and down your back. "You're well prepared. Sorry for making you deal with them, I'll handle it next time, I promise."

Jason hated using Bruce's money.

Not only was it something that sat bitter in his mouth ever since he had come back, but he didn’t need it. Dick had also rejected it and moved to Bludhaven, and even though he'd never admit it, Jason respected the way he managed to build a home for himself there. He wanted to do that too, and he could do it damn well by himself. He still took some money, but it was no more than a wage from Bruce. He considered protecting Gotham his job, and he wasn't stupid. He wasn’t going to let his pride get in the way of helping you both live. He hated to see you stress about finances, but you never asked him. You never asked him to reach out to Bruce for more or reach out to Bruce yourself.

The first time rent had gone up it had nearly priced the both of you out of the cozy apartment you lived in, and you had been in tears for days trying to find a second job to cover the expenses. Yet you didn’t come begging for Bruce's assistance, no. You looked at him with those teary eyes and asked him to help make a budget with you so you could figure a way out, and you did. You were the most resilient person he knew, the most resilient person he loved.

He held you closer as he spun you softly around the kitchen.

You were going to need to be resilient.

He inhaled the scent of your shampoo and let his arms bask in the warmth of you. Your skin against his made the thrumming in his side ease and the headache blistering behind his eyes subside. As you relaxed against him, his head raced of all the ways that he could tell you. Tell the most perfect being that had ever walked into your life that he was leaving, and not only that, he was going to have to break your heart on the way out.

He cursed Bruce. He cursed Bruce for making enemies that had cunning greater than his own, for dragging him into the mess he had created. He had yelled and spat and screamed at the older man until his voice resonated off the cave walls, storming from the cave after tonight's fight. Bruce had asked the impossible of him, after they both got their asses handed to them in a surprise attack. They had taunted Bruce, not the Batman, and had enough evidence to bring Bruce's world and carefully hidden persona crumbling down around him. It just so happened that they had enough to bring Jason's down as well.

They knew about you.

Pictures of you had fluttered down towards him, filling him with an indescribable sense of fear. As hard as they fought, they had let the new visitor of Gotham's nightlife slip through their fingers and Bruce had asked him to break up with you not a second later. There was no empathy, there was no kindness or waiting for it to sink in for him.

But there never was.

In that moment Bruce was Batman, but Red Hood had been the scared Jason Todd.

How did he tell you that he wanted to break up when that was the furthest thing from the truth? That he would walk through hell barefoot and dunk himself in the Lazarus pit again if that mean that you were still there to warm his bed at night? How could he tell you that he didn't love you when his heart ached to tell you it every time he got the courage? He could play the tears, play the part of a sad breakup. That part was easy, considering how this was shaping to be one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. It was the rage that he couldn't muster, for once. Rage was something that he saved for the streets, a place already so crime ridden and scummy that his bitterness and anger were practically masked under the filth. It wasn't a place for your home, the little shelter the both of you had carved out of Gotham with your own two hands.

So, he spun you around the room, eyes watering with tears yet to shed as he thought about how to let you go. He knew you wanted to stay, and that made his heart ache in return. It was like losing a part of him that hadn't even been lost yet, a void already forming in his chest. He sniffled lightly and thankfully you didn’t hear or notice his arms squeezing tighter, as if to imprint the feeling of you against his body. He tried to tell himself it was only a temporary thing, that he could explain it all to you later when the threat was done. That thought often lost against the conjured image of your heartbroken eyes his mind created to torture him, and the persistent thought that you'd probably never want to see him again when he was about to break your heart so violently.

You don't notice something is wrong until the first tear hits your hair, silently giving way to more. You notice the slight shake in his arms and the tension still wound in his body. Normally the stiffness in his muscles flowed out of him like water when he stepped over the threshold of the house, but not tonight.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask softly, pressing into him to try and comfort him, your heart panging in confusion at his strange behaviour.

Jason would never tell you, but when he looked at you he wondered what the rest of your life together would look like, and if you'd ever considering changing your name to 'Todd'.