#you could tell me this was a shot of my own pajama pants and i would have to take a second

[blackjackkent]

Going back through my screenshots to set up my next liveblog post and uh. Everyone enjoy this view of Rakha I guess.

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

daddy!chan helping you shave

genre: smut

word count: ~2.7k

warnings: daddy chan, oral (f.receiving), fingering, squirting, pet names.

an: chan won the poll on which member should get a part 2. so here it is! sorry it took me so long, i’m going through some shit. heh

masterlist - part 1

you felt so cozy, and warm. laying on the couch, chan’s arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly to his chest. the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed slowly, was lulling you to sleep. the knit blanket covering your legs felt soft against your skin. he gently ran his fingers through your hair, your eyes growing heavy. you were fighting to keep them open and focused on the movie.

that was until his hand started to travel.

it moved from your hair, down your neck, his fingertips leaving goosebumps on your skin. it traveled over your pajama shirt and down your back. his hand cupped your ass before giving it a rough squeeze. your eyes shot open, your hand gripping his black t-shirt. he chuckled softly as he squeezed your ass again. alternating between rubbing his fingers up and down your skin, and squeezing roughly, his fingers surely leaving marks. this went on for a moment, before you whimpered against him. hearing your sound, he tilted your head up to look at him. without saying a word, he gently placed his lips against yours. his lips were so soft and full against your own, so gentle and loving.

he deepened the kiss, sliding his hand in between your body and his, cupping your warmth with his hand. you gasped into his mouth as he rubbed soft circles over the material of your pajama pants.

"daddy—" you panted.

"what is it baby?" he whispered against your lips.

"we—" it was hard to focus on your words when his fingers were doing that. "we can’t."

he stopped suddenly, thinking that you were unhappy with what he was doing. "why not, baby? do you not want to?" he asked, pain in his eyes.

"no! no it’s not that. i always want to.." you blushed.

he smiled warmly at you. "well if it’s not that, then what is it?"

"i just.. i haven’t shaved in a while.." you said softly, embarrassed.

"aww baby" he cooed. "you know i don’t care about that. you’re perfect, in any form." he thought about it for a moment, before kissing your forehead. "do you remember what you asked me a couple weeks ago?"

you thought back, but couldn’t think of anything. you shook your head no.

"you don’t remember texting me and asking me if i would help you shave?"

oh yeah. you suddenly remembered. you had been in a particular mood that day. needing him bad and he wasn’t home to help you. "oh yeah, i remember now." you tell him.

"i know i remember." he said. "i was fighting an erection the entire afternoon." he laughed, the sound shaking your body where it was in contact with his. "do you still want to do that?" he asked. "now seems like the perfect opportunity.."

you thought about it for a moment. it’s definitely out of your comfort zone. you imagined what it would look like to be standing over him as he knelt. the thought made your skin hot and that familiar feeling to pool in your tummy. you were nervous, but you knew that he would help you through it. he always did. you nodded. "yeah, we could try that."

he stood up gently, offering you his hand. you took it and he led you to the bathroom. he leaned in and turned the shower on, the sound of the water hitting the tiles filled the room. he turned to you, cupping your face in his hands. "you’re so beautiful, baby." he said. "my perfect girl." he punctuated his statement with a quick kiss to your lips, before pulling away, smiling. he reached for the hem of your shirt, waiting for your approving nod before lifting it over your head and discarding it on the floor. he made quick work of your pants too, giving you a quick preview of what you were in for as he knelt on the bathroom floor to help you step out of your pants, throwing them in the same corner as your shirt. you stood there, naked, feeling his eyes on you. you were nervous, you itched to cover yourself with your hands, but you knew better. that would only get you a scolding.

"you now." you said, tugging on his clothing.

he chuckled, before reaching behind his neck and grabbing the back of his shirt, swiftly pulling it over his head. and before you could even look at his body, he bent over and pulled his pants down, kicking them to the side. he was so.. perfect. you questioned again for the millionth time that day how you got so lucky. he kissed the top of your head, before leaning in and checking the temperature of the water. his muscles flexed with the movement, muscles in his side and his shoulders that you never got to admire much. he caught you staring. he smiled. "i think the water is warm enough. in you go." he held the glass shower door open, and grabbed your hand. "careful, tiles are slippery." he said as you stepped inside. the warm water felt so nice against your skin. you stepped into the stream, letting it cover your entire body. you heard the shower door close behind you, before feeling strong hands on your waist.

he stepped into the stream as well, the water droplets rolling tantalizingly down his chiseled chest. you were staring again. you forced your eyes up to his face. he was looking at you, his eyes practically sparkling with admiration. the steam in the air was already causing his hair to start to curl and that made your heart flutter. you loved his curly hair so much, you wished he would embrace it more often. he reached for the soap, opening the bottle and dispensing a small amount into his hand. he rubbed his hands together, the veins running down his fingers and up his wrist, under his chrome hearts bracelet that still hung from his wrist. god his hands looked good. you were staring again. you scolded yourself internally. telling yourself to get a grip.

his hands started on your hips, rubbing the soap in circles, the bubbles sliding down your legs. he moved his way up, washing your tummy, and your arms, before gently taking your breasts in his hands, rubbing the soap into your skin. your eyes closed, your body swaying. "eyes open princess. i don’t want you to fall."

he washed your collarbones and your shoulders, before motioning for you to turn around. he got some more soap and started rubbing circles into your back, your neck, and your ass. he rubbed back and forth, trying to squeeze your cheeks with his hand, but your skin is too slippery. you felt him kneeling behind you, rubbing the soap in to your thighs and your calves.

"okay, baby." he said. you turned back around to see him kneeling on the shower floor, looking up at you. his thighs looked large, his muscles flexing, his cock was semi hard, resting against his left thigh. the muscles in his stomach were prominent, the hard ridges wet with water. his chest was similar in musculature and dampness, giving way to his broad shoulders that you loved so much. but most devastating, was his face. he looked up at you, his brown eyes twinkling in the soft light of the bathroom, a single drop of water perched on his cupid’s bow, threatening to spill over his full lips at any second. his dark curls clung to his forehead, begging to have your fingers running through them.

the sight made your knees weak.

he reached for the soap, the separate soap you use just on your intimate area. he squeezed some into his hand, and looked up at you again, almost questioning with his eyes if this was still okay with you. you nodded. he nudged your legs apart slightly, before bringing his soap covered hand to your center. he gently rubbed the soap back and forth, coating your skin and hair but careful to only stay on the outside. this should not be sexual, you thought. it shouldn’t be. but god did he look good, his eyes focused on the task in front of him, his gentle fingers rubbing against your most sensitive area. you held back your whimpers, not wanting him to see how much this small action from him affected you.

"could you hand me your razor?" he asked, his voice gruff. this was affecting him just as much as it was affecting you. his cock was hard now, standing up on its own. he held his hand out and you placed your razor in his palm. "put your foot there." he pointed to the small ledge to the right. "please be careful, it’ll be hard for daddy to catch you when i’m on the floor." carefully you lifted your leg and put your foot on the ledge. "good?" he asked. you nodded, feeling sturdy for the time being.

he turned his attention back to your center, analyzing, trying to decide where to start. you had the thought that he may be nervous. which was a rare occurrence for him, at least outwardly. he was always so confident, it was cute to see him a little unsure. with his thumb, he reached up and held the skin taught, before slowly bringing the razor to your skin. he made his first pass, pulling the razor in the direction of your hair growth. he reached behind you and rinsed the razor in the falling water. "is that okay?"

you nodded again. "you’re doing good." you said.

he smiled. "thank you baby." he made pass after pass, stopping to rinse the blade each time. and your arousal grew with each pass. he was so gentle, so careful with you. you felt so small, and loved, and taken care of. you needed him. he made quick work of it, honestly. but was careful around the top. he knew you liked to keep some hair there, so he was gentle and made sure to only trim that area and not shave it completely. he leaned back and admired his work. "i think im done." he said. "does it pass?"

you reached down and felt your skin. it was smooth and hair free where it needed to be and there were no cuts or scrapes. "i think it’s perfect." you told him. you leaned back, letting the water run over your shoulder and down your body, rinsing away any left over soap.

"i think you’re perfect." he said, watching the water fall over your bare skin, drops catching on your nipples. he leaned in and placing a kiss just below your belly button. his kiss was sloppy, you could feel his tongue against your skin. "now that i’ve shaved it, can i play with it?"

he kissed lower, over the small patch of hair that he purposely left. he looked up at you through his lashes, waiting for your answer. "fuck- yes. yes you can." you huffed out.

he let out an mmm. "language baby." he scolded gently, his kisses going even further south.

"sorry daddy." you mumbled. "just need it so bad."

"what do you need, princess?" he asked, pulling at the hair gently with his lips, his fingers grazing your inner thighs.

you whined, unable to find the words, frustrated that he is going to make you say it instead of just giving it to you.

"you can do it baby, tell daddy what you want."

your hands balled into fists at your sides, you would have stomped your feet in protest if you weren’t so precariously perched on one leg. "need—" you tried, his tongue played in the little patch of hair, causing your brain to short circuit. "need your fingers."

"my fingers?" he teased. "where?" he ran his hand up your thigh, and ran his fingers in between your folds. "here?" his fingers rubbed small circles around your clit, your body jerking. you forced your body still. you didn’t want him to stop because he thought you may fall. his fingers slid down and played with your entrance. "or here?" he asked.

"there. please there." you almost cried.

he slipped his index finger inside of you, pushing it in slowly. "but what about your little clitty baby?" he pumped his finger in and out, agonizingly slow.

"you— your— your tongue."

he licked one quick pass over your clit, your body jerking again. "baby i’ll lick and finger your little pussy but you have to stay still okay? i’ll never forgive myself if you fall and i can’t catch you."

you nodded quickly, needing him desperately. "i— i promise i’ll be- be careful." you hiccuped.

"good girl baby." he said before lapping at your clit. he added another finger, sliding it easily in with the other, your arousal coating his fingers. his tongue moved leisurely back and forth, savoring your taste. one of your hands braced yourself against the wall, the other came down and tangled itself in his mess of curls. he hummed against you as you tugged gently on his hair. a stream of curse words were running through your mind, but you didn’t let them out, wanting to be a good girl for him. instead you let out the moans and whimpers, your voice echoing off the tiles.

"your clenching around me, princess." he said, curving his fingers to hit your favorite spot. "are you going to cum?"

you nodded, having increasingly more trouble holding your body still. you felt that familiar feeling and you were suddenly glad that you were in the shower. "daddy— it’s going to be a big one." you said, your cheeks and ears flushing pink. he knew exactly what you meant. and it made his cock ache. he reached down and stroked himself, fucking his fist as he licked across your clit.

"are you gonna make a mess, baby?" the sounds coming from your pussy told him that you were. it was getting harder and harder to push his fingers into you, you were squeezing so hard. "want it on my face baby." he mumbled against your skin. "fuck— i know you can do it." his tongue kept the same glorious pace, his arm muscles working overtime to continue pumping his fingers into you. and you could feel it, your orgasm crashed over you and you gripped his hair tightly. "good girl baby. good girl." he praised. your release was leaking out around his fingers, he pulled them out quickly and replaced them with his tongue, your cum squirting out into his mouth and coating his chin and chest. "fuck— yes." he groaned, one of his hands squeezing your ass as he licked up every drop.

you were proud of yourself for not falling, but your legs were incredibly weak. you looked down at him, his skin was flushed, his eyes glazed, his cum peppered his abdomen. he looked completely fucked out. "you.." he panted. "you, are perfect, little one."

he stood, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you, you tasted yourself on his tongue. you carefully removed your foot from the ledge and placed it on the floor, your legs wobbly as you fell into him. "hey hey, easy." he said, holding you. he quickly washed himself, cleaning the evidence off of his skin, before gently washing you again, his fingers running over your sensitive and puffy clit. he rinsed both you you, the water only lukewarm at this point. he reached behind you and shut it off. you leaned against him, feeling useless, your body heavy and weak. he opened the shower door and grabbed a towel. he wrapped the fluffy material around your body, rubbing back and forth and helping you dry off.

"you did so good, baby." he said, kissing the top of your head. he wrapped the towel around your shoulders, and his arms over the towel, before squeezing you against him. "i love you." he said against your hair.

you did your best to wrap your arms around his waist, returning his hug. "love you, daddy."

he stepped out of the shower, holding your hand he helped you step out onto the bath mat. "let’s get you to bed."

you nodded, sleepily.

©hyunjins-orange-slice-too i do not give permission for this work or any of my work to be translated, copied, or reposted.

[imtherain]

I Wish I Could Tell You I Love You

Welp, I was supposed to be doing homework and got caught in some feelings, so this happened. Sorry it's not the sex pollen fic, but I swear it's still coming (hah)

loganxreader

word count: 2k and I didn't really edit it/reread it so suffer

Warning? it got away from me so my original plot shifted. I used "you" as the pronouns this time. You have unspecified powers and self esteem issues, Logan is sick of your shit but Tired about it. Takes place during "logan is a teacher at the mansion" times, vaguely angst with a happy ending I guess. idk why all my Logan fics are sad/sad adjacent

[Masterlist]

[More Logan Angst] (Forced Closeness)

[More Logan but make it not angsty] (Why We Wake)

[Logan Masterlist]

Here you go

“Oh, hey, Logan,” You said as you stumbled upon him, sitting in one of the lounge rooms. You had come looking for somewhere quiet to read that wasn’t your bedroom. Why he was sitting there in the dark, you didn’t know.

He looked up at you and it seemed to take him a few seconds to figure out who you were.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Recognition finally sparked behind his eyes. You were glad you had only turned on the two small lamps in the room and nothing brighter. It was the time of day for soft light, ambient warmth to sit with.

“Want me to leave?” You offered, not really sure what was going on. Plus, you and Logan didn’t find yourselves alone very often and you were worried if you stayed, you’d say something stupid.

“No, ‘s fine,” Logan said. He looked you over, noticed you had your fancy little ereader (that he may or may not have put under the staff tree marked ‘from Santa’ for you). He noticed you were dressed way down, far more casually than you normally did in ‘public’. You were simply wearing pajama pants and a cozy top. Normally, you tried to wear ‘real clothes’ if you ever found yourself somewhere kids could potentially see you. Yet here you were, soft cotton, no jewelry or makeup or anything else. If he was a speculating man, he probably would speculate that you were wearing a soft bra underneath for some semblance of decency, but it wasn’t the one you’d been wearing earlier when he’d seen you at the staff meeting.

“Why were you sitting here in the dark?” You attempted to tease Logan. A smirk almost fought its way to his lips.

“I was just sitting here and then it got dark, hadn’t bothered to get up yet,” He explained. He stretched then, as if he just remembered he hadn’t moved at all in a long time.

You watched the way he flexed as his arms went over his head and his eyes closed with that relief that was specific to a good stretch. You hoped he didn’t catch the way your cheeks were warm when you saw his shirt ride up over his abs.

It was the age old story. You had worked at the mansion for a while now, Logan had been here longer. He was always somehow himself, even when he was getting badgered by the kids, or when Scott got on his nerves. You adored that about him, he was always entirely himself. Even if at first, you and he really hadn’t talked much, apart from pleasantries. But time passed and suddenly he shot you winks when he caught your eye from across the hall, he made sure there was a seat for you near him at dinner, he always asked you about your day, and remembered your birthday…

“You good though?” You asked. Something about how Logan seemed to reanimate when you entered the room made you worry.

“Peachy,” Logan said. “What about you? It’s pretty late for you to be wandering the halls,” Your ears got warm at the idea that he knew your schedule because he cared about you. But of course he cared about you, he was your friend. Plus, he liked to keep track of people coming and going. It didn’t mean anything.

“Yeah, I was feeling a little cooped up in my room, so I decided to find a nice little place to read until the feeling went away,” You told him. Logan hummed. “I even put a bra back on, can you believe it?” You chuckled at your own joke. Logan also knew that you refused to run around in what you lovingly called ‘a state of undress’.

“I mean, you didn’t have to do that,” Logan managed a smirk this time.

“I wasn’t about to run around the mansion with my titties flapping in the breeze,” You said before you could think about what you were saying. Logan chuckled at that.

“Is that your mutant power? Magic tits?” He asked. It had been a long standing joke that you didn’t tell Logan what your powers were.

“I mean, every baby/toddler/child I've ever cuddled falls asleep on them, so maybe,” You moved to sit in the armchair next to his. The chairs were angled together so you could still chat. You folded one leg under you and fiddled with the case on your ereader. 

“I could use some of that kind of magic,” Logan mused.

“Why? You’ve got a baby I don’t know about?” You challenged him. He looked at you for a long moment before he shrugged.

“Maybe I do,” 

“I bet Scott’s the dad,” You shot back and Logan actually snorted at that.

“You’re not funny,” 

“Your snort begs to differ,” Sometimes it was easy to be near him. Easy to simply exist as two things with beating hearts and stories they didn’t want to tell. Easy to be friends.

“I have trouble sleeping,” Logan admitted. “That’s what I’d use your magic for,” Something warm in his eyes found its way into your chest and made it hard to breathe.

Just the idea that he’d think about you in anything close to a sexual manner seemed absurd. There was no way you were his type, if your past experiences were to be believed, you were no one’s type. Anyone who had ever tried to express romantic interest, not that there had been many, gave up on the idea within a month. Most never asked for a second date.

Most never bothered with it in the first place.

“If that was my mutation, which it isn’t, I could start a whole business, don’t you think?” You try to keep the joke going, enjoying the moment too much to let it pass.

“A business? Like you’d go around and let people fall asleep on your tits?” Logan scoffed at the idea as if it offended him.

“Sure, why not. I wouldn’t have to be naked or anything, and I’d choose my clientele very carefully. If you play your cards right, I could even hire you as my like… bouncer. In case anyone got any bright ideas. I’d give you… 10%?” 

“I’d want more than that,” 

“I’m not going higher than 15,” I smirked. Logan looked for a moment like he was going to roll his eyes, but all at once the mirth faded and he looked straight ahead instead. He sighed like he was trying to deflate the tractor tire in his chest at the thought of you selling yourself at all, even if it was just some stupid joke.

“Too bad that’s not your mutation then, huh?” His voice was gruff and you settled into your chair, feeling admonished.

You were sure Logan would get up and leave shortly after, he often did when the conversation around him died. But for some reason, he just stayed there, staring at the wall that made up the space of the two large windows that overlooked part of the garden. It was a beautiful night, summer not quite gone, fall not quite cold. 

But here Logan was, just stared at the wallpaper instead.

“You sure you’re ok, Logan?” You ask. You’d reread the same page three times, worrying too much about him to comprehend the story.

“Hmm?” Logan hummed. “Yeah, ‘m fine,” 

“Are you falling asleep with your eyes open?” You pressed, trying to sound like you weren’t worried.

“Come here for a minute,” His face turned to you and it almost looked like he was staring through you. Only, somehow, he was looking at you too. Like maybe he wanted to look into your head and figure out what he needed to say to make you understand. “Please,” He extended his hand to you and, while you weren’t sure exactly what it was in his voice that drew you in, you let it bring you close enough to take his hand. 

He easily pulled you from your chair and into his lap, much to your chagrin. 

“Logan!” You tried to chide him, but at the same time, it felt nice to be close to him.

“Just,” You felt him sigh as he gave into whatever demons were plaguing him. “Just let me hold you for a minute, would you?” Logan laid his forehead on your shoulder, his arms closed around you, holding you to him.

“Ok,” You whispered into his hair. Your arms folded around his neck, one hand coming up to cradle the back of his head. It felt natural to sink your fingers into his hair and scratch gently at his scalp.

Part of you wanted to ask what this was, what it meant. But you were too afraid to break the moment. Too afraid to hear him say it meant nothing at all.

But, as all things must, the moment ended anyway. No matter how much you wanted it to last and last and last.

Logan leaned back against the plush of the chair so he could look up at you. There was a soft smile on his face, like he’d finally seen the sunset he’d been waiting for. You blushed under his scrutiny.

“What?” You chuckle nervously.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Was his reply and you shook your head, knowing he didn’t really mean it. Why would he? How could he? You knew what you looked like.

“Stop it,” You were about to make some comment about how he wouldn’t be stupid or blind enough to mean that when you felt his hand move from your side to your cheek. The action paused whatever joke you were aiming to hide behind.

“No, you stop,” Logan said, almost sounding angry. But his hand on your face was gentle. “Everytime I try to love you, you shut me out, and yet you still stay here and let me do it… why?” 

“It’s easier to make jokes,” You said before you could stop yourself. “I mean, we’re friends, and you tease me sometimes, and…” Every excuse you normally told yourself, every way you’d phrased ‘of course he doesn’t want to love you’ to hurt yourself with, every joke you’d made to keep him at arms length, suddenly crumbled under the realization of what he’d said. 

“And?” Logan pressed, his hand returning to your thigh to mirror the other. You couldn’t look him in the eye, even sitting on his lap, his hands both rubbing soothing circles on your plush thighs, you weren’t sure you could face the real elephant in the room.

But something told you to face it anyway.

“And… I don’t know how to tell you I love you,” your voice was small in the dimly lit room. It wasn’t hard to pretend there was no one and nothing outside of that one old armchair you were both sharing. “I wish I did, but I just… don’t,” You added lamely. Your eyes darted up to his long enough to catch the way his entire face softened at your confession. 

“Sweetheart,” Logan’s voice was almost a moan. When you only stared at him, experiencing the horror of being perceived, he chuckled. “I want to kiss you now,” 

“You do?” You wanted to kick yourself in the head for even asking.

“Mhmm,” His hands tugged you closer, digging into the meat of your thighs just enough. You just nodded, knowing if you opened your mouth something else lame would fall out. With a smile, Logan closed the small distance between you and covered your mouth with his.

As your arms closed around him again, and the kiss deepened, you realized it didn’t really matter if you knew how to tell him you loved him. Because you could show him. In the way you teased him, in the way that you’d hold his hand after breakfast tomorrow, in the way that your face would always get warm when he looked at you too long.

In the way that you kissed him right here and right now and every day going forward if you could.

And he may have looked at you like you were the sunset he’d longed for, but the sun only ever sets so that it can rise again tomorrow. So you could always show him how much you loved him again tomorrow.

[Masterlist]

[Logan Masterlist]

Likes/comments/reblogs directly correlate to how much fanfiction/fanart you see ;)

[squinch-depraved]

AAAAAGGGHKJ YOU WRITE CHARLIE SO WELL !!!!!!

literally if u post anything abt him i will eat it up idc i have brainrot and your writing is DELICIOUS 💥

explodes you with my mind

this was on my mind a lot so here's trying for a baby with charlie

moonlight streamed through the window, softly illuminating your body. charlie shivered at the visual of you lying on your side, unable to stop his thoughts from racing. he read the notification on his calendar for the fifth time since it appeared and swallowed thickly, trying to gather the courage to do what needed to be done.

"baby," he spoke gently as he nudged you awake. "it's time!"

"hmm?" you groaned groggily.

"you're ovulating!"

you let out a long whine and tried to bury your head under your pillow, but charlie chuckled breathily and rubbed your hip softly.

"c'mon, babe, please," he begged. "i need to cum in you as much as i can if we're gonna start a family! i promise you won't have to do anything, just let me take care of you." he had positioned himself between your legs now, and was planting kisses to the insides of your thighs. the feeling earned a small giggle from you as you watched him.

"you'll do all the work?" you asked suspiciously. he nodded eagerly as he repeated what you said.

"i'll do all the work. just please let me fill you up until you can't hold any more of my cum and there's no shot you're not full of my babies." his words drew a guttural grunt from you, which he took as his sign to strip you of your bottoms and insert his fingers into your dripping cunt.

"i know, i know, shh, it's okay," he assured you when you mewled loudly. "just let me take care of you." he repeated himself firmly and lowered his face to take your sensitive bud in his teeth, smiling against your heat when you yelped.

"charlie!" you cried out as you tangled your hands in his wild brown locks. he merely smiled wider in response and continued to devour you eagerly.

eventually, he tired himself out, and moved on to remove his own pajama pants before sliding into you with ease. the groan he let slip when he bottomed out would stick with you well past this late night session. once he started moving, you couldn't keep your moans quiet any longer.

"fuck, baby, you feel so good," he sighed. "gonna fill you up so full with my cum, hm?" his words drew a low, deep noise from you.

"god, you're lucky you're so good at this," you giggled quietly. charlie chuckled and sped up a bit, rolling his hips into you at a steady pace.

"i'm lucky because i found you," he corrected you as he planted a kiss to your head. "nobody else will make as good a mommy as you will." you couldn't stop yourself from whining as he praised you so sweetly.

the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the room, only muffled by the thin blanket draped over your bodies, occasionally covered up by you shrieking his name. he warned you when he was getting close, but he didn't have to. you could always tell by the way his breath hitched in his throat and how his moans started to go up in pitch.

"i-i'm gonna cum, baby," he announced, voice trembling as he frantically bucked his hips into you.

"god, yes, charlie!!" you encouraged him, no longer dead tired from your rude awakening. "give me a baby, please, wanna be a big happy family so bad!"

your words spurred him on to thrust into you even more vigorously, frenzied grunts leaving his lips until he eventually slammed deep into you one last time with a loud groan. wrapping your legs around him and trapping him while he came was apparently the right move, because he shivered after he collapsed onto your chest, refusing to pull out in case his precious seed leaked out of your womb.

"jus' give me a minute or two, love, then we can go again," he panted against your sternum.

"again???" you complained halfheartedly. feeling him smile at how cute you were when you get tired, you sighed deeply and accepted your fate. "whatever, char. go as many times as you want, it'll be worth it when i get to look at our kid's beautiful face and see you staring back at me."

he let out a strangled noise somewhere between embarrassment and horniness and brought one hand up to knead your breast under your shirt. "why do you always have to make me all flustered like this?" he chuckled breathlessly to himself.

"because i love you and you're cute when you're shy," you teased in response.

"stoooop," charlie whined, burying his face in between your tits. "i love you too." it was muffled, but his words made your face flush even more than it already had.

"forever and ever," you mumbled, stroking his hair gently.

"forever and ever," he agreed.

[thatone-brightstar]

Amy's kinktober alphabet blurbs w/ special guest Carmy Berzatto! (6/6)

a/n: first of all, happy international chef's day! second, i got my internet conection back and that's worth celebrating with the last part of this hot as hell seriessss. you can totally tell i love carmy in uniform lmao

Don't forget to like and repost or comment with the one you like the most bc we will be getting a full length one shot of the winner! PS. lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!

Warnings: Minors DNI, p in v unprotected sex, creampie, choking, semi public, oral sex (both f and m receiving), knifeplay, spit kink, knife play, fingering,

V is for: Visuals.

‘-the time difference is kicking my ass.’ He heard your tired whisper through the speaker and sighed along with you while taking a drag from his cig. ‘I really miss you…’ You confessed even more softly, pulling a smile over his own tired face.

‘I really miss you too.’ He mumbled back and despite being completely alone, his face still flared up at the confession.

You hummed along with his response, then after a few silent seconds you asked: ‘what do you miss about me?’

Carmy chuckled nervously and ran his hand down his face, falling back against the kitchen counter..

‘I miss… your pretty face’ He began and closed his eyes to picture you on the other side of the phone; probably in your pajamas, biting on your bottom lip and trying to avoid the goofy smile his response caused. ‘I miss kissing you…’

‘Hmm… what else?’ You breathed out that made him swallow hard and stir his hips.

He couldn’t think of what else to say, he was shit at normal conversation and now the idea of phone sex had erased the words from his brain.

You were quiet on the other line for a while and he was almost sure you had fallen asleep, until he heard movement and a heavy sigh. 

Then his phone vibrated near his cheek and your voice whispered sweetly. ‘Does that help?’

His heart stopped at the sight of your full breasts on display and the rest of your body barely covered by the hotel robe, then his blood traveled south to the forming tent in his pants. 

‘What else do you miss, Carmy?’ 

W is for: Whites.

‘Ready to go?’ You called, walking in from the back door and immediately stopping in your tracks.

Carmen stood leaning tiredly against the marble bar, hair disheveled and chef white sleeves rolled up to his forearms, letting the designs on his skin peek from under. Despite the fatigue evident on his face, he still offered a loving smile towards you.

‘’M just checkin’ produce for tomorrow. Ten more minutes?’ He asked and reached a strong hand in your direction.

All you could do was nod and swallow the sudden dryness that invaded your mouth at the sight of him. He gave you a quick kiss and moved back to the scribbled pages.

You hopped on the empty space beside him and took a quick look around the empty room, then bit your lip and stared back at him through doe eyes. You’d seen him many times before in his chef whites, but something about the concentration in his eyes and the flexing of muscle under the material had you completely soaked, and the thin material of your skirt wasn’t helping.

He felt your intense gaze and flickered his eyes around your face, landing on your lips. ‘What?’ He asked.

You bit your lip and watched him swallow hard, taking the bait. ‘You look really fuckin’ hot right now…’

Carmy chuckled softly and shook his head. ‘What’s doin’ it for ya? The smell of onions or the Hollandaise stains?’

Your fingers wrapped around the edge of the still pristine uniform and pulled timidly, eyes heavy on his.

‘...really?’ He asked again in disbelief and planted a hand near your naked thigh, leaning towards you.

You shrugged and parted your thighs where his hips fit perfectly, then threaded your fingers through his hair and watched him close his eyes, slightly groaning. ‘I like a man in uniform…’

X is for: ‘X marks the spot’

With your hands resting under your cheek and your chest flat on the bed, you could feel the line of goosebumps follow the soft graze of Carmen’s lips. They had started at your shoulder blades- pulling soft breathy giggles from your flushing chest- then down your spine, where they met his strong hands holding your waist.

‘Is it there?’ He asked for the fifth time, though you wondered if he was enjoying the search more than actually trying to find your sweet spot.

A soft whine came out when one hand curved past your hip, in between the valley of your ass and to the spot he knew would certainly bring you bliss.

‘No cheating…’ You mumbled back between a moan and the disheveled sheets, making him chuckle again.

You felt his hand move back to your hip bone and his body hover over yours before the warmth of his chest pressed against your back. Dexterous fingers ran through your scalp and the sultry kiss he placed at the base of your neck was enough for your nerves to spark alight and your hips to push back against him.

‘Found it…’ He joked, warm breath caressed your ear and another kiss had your eyes rolling back.

Y is for: ‘Yes, Chef’

‘Say it again-’ He instructed through a heavy breath and a jerk of his hips that had the words turning into a scrambled groan. 

You clawed against the cold counter hoping to find something to hold on to because fuck, he was making you feel so good you thought you might float away. Carmy raked his nails through your messy hair and pulled you up with a firm but gentle grip. 

‘C’mon pretty girl- you were so fuckin’ bold hours ago, what happened?’ You could hear the satisfaction in his words.

He stopped his thrusts long enough to give your lungs a needed breath, only to pull your knee up on the counter and bury into you at a deeper angle. The new sensation pulled a squeal from your throat and your head fell back against his strong shoulders.

‘You still gonna talk back in front of everybody?’ He sneered again and wrapped another hand over your swollen cunt. 

All you could do was shake your head.

‘You gonna be good from now on?’ Carmen asked while his fingers began circular motions.

‘Yes…’ You moaned a little too loud and his fingers sped up.

‘Yes what?’ He asked again and softly pressed the sides of your neck until your eyes rolled back and your breasts raised with your struggling pants. 

Z is for: Zesty.

With Carmy, it was always like the first time. There was never a moment where he was too tired, or too busy, or too in his head that having you bouncing on his cock couldn’t fix. The simple idea that you were his filled him with a new fervor, a fresh wave of energy that had his hands groping at your ass and pulling you up as he stood from the old chair. 

You squealed in surprise and circled your thighs tightly around his hips, then heard the sound of everything on the desk falling heavily on the ground before the cold wood touched your skin. His lips latched onto yours as he continued his frantic movements, on hand on your head to avoid you bumping against the top shelf while the other rested on your cheek.

When he pulled away, his eyes were wild and glossy, even in the dim light you could spot the silhouette of your flushed face.

‘Tell me you’re mine.’ He muttered between peppered kisses that made you heave and smile.  

‘I’m a-all yours baby-’ Carmy’s smile grew at your immediate answer, thrusting even deeper into the spot that caused lightning bolts to course through your spine.

‘All mine…’ He muttered as he settled your back over the desk and pushed your legs up to your chest. ‘All mine.’

____________

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne , @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha , @yum-yahgurt , @pussy-f41ry , @kirakombat , @redsakura101 , @hobisunshine13 , @feyhunter78

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Compotation

Warnings: non/dubcon, coercion and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Part of Roo’s Pajama Party (October 7-8)

Prompt: Compotation - a drinking or tippling together. (List of prompts here) + this look

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. I hope you enjoy this one and have a lovely weekend.

The world is awash with ripples. You feel heavy and light at once. The slosh in your stomach weighs you down as your head feels hollow.  

You focus on measuring out the shot of tequila. You splash a little as you dump it into the bigger glass and add grapefruit juice and a bit of fizzy water. You swallow a belch and slam down the can, spilling even more onto the counter. You’re too angry, and tipsy, to care about any of it. 

Knock, knock, knock. Fuckkkkk. It’s probably the neighbour come to whine about your music. It’s not even that loud. And it’s good music. Well, she can go rot with your boyfriend. Maybe even soon to be ex. 

You take your drink with you to the door. Your fuzzy pants brush together warmly as coolness spreads over your exposed midriff. It’s too bad Bucky didn’t stay long enough to appreciate your new pajamas. No, you told him to go. No, good... 

Maybe it’s him. He is so forgetful you wouldn’t put it past him to forget his own damn keys. You open the door, ready to bluster at neighbour and boyfriend alike. Your mouth hangs open as your met with a third unexpected option. 

“Sam,” you blub out like a fish. “Oh, hey. He’s not here.” 

“Oh,” he tilts his head, “figures. He’s not answering my texts. What’s going on? Party?” 

He looks at your drink and you scoff. You take a deep gulp of the alcohol laced juice. You should slow down but you won’t. You don’t do this. No, you behave. You do everything Bucky tells you and he can’t do just one thing. One. Thing. 

“Sure is,” you slur. “Party of one. I’ll tell him you stopped by when he drags himself home.” 

Before you can close the door, he puts his hand against it, his strength easily blocking your own. You blink at him. 

“What did he do?” He hums. 

You roll your eyes, ��what do you care? You’re his friend.” 

“Oh, ouch. Kitten, I thought we were friends.” 

“Mm, well, I guess,” you shrug. 

“So, what are friends for, huh? Why don’t you tell me all about that deadbeat?” He smirks and smoothly edges his way inside. You don’t stop him. You could use the company. 

You back up and blow a raspberry as you play back the argument that turned into Bucky yelling and you just a staring blankly. Then he left. No apology. No nothing. Somehow, you became the guilty party. 

“He forgot our anniversary,” you grumble. “You know, just what he does. He can tell me what battle happened on what day, but he can’t remember our first date.” 

“He forgot? Jesus, now how could he forget a girl like you?” 

“Whatever, I don’t wanna talk about it,” you pause and slurp again. “You want a drink? You know, he can’t get drunk. He sucks down those beers for what? Because he likes the taste of piss?” You sneer. 

Sam snickers. 

“What?” You bluster. 

“Nothing, I just... I’ve never seen you angry.” 

“Yeah, well, I've been too accepting,” you spit. “So you wanna drink? Tequila and grapefruit. Or I have some peach juice.” 

You lick the moisture from your lips and sway on your feet. 

“Uh, sure, might as well,” he accepts. 

“Uno momento,” you hold up a finger and drain your glass. You let out a long aaah as you finish then stagger into the kitchen. Are you leaning or are the walls? 

You take out another glass. “Hey, grapefruit or--” you lower your voice as he enters the kitchen, “peach.” 

“Mm, peach sounds sweet,” he says as he unzips his jacket. He hangs it on the back of one the tall chairs along the island. You hate them. You told Bucky they’re too high. 

“Coming right up,” you declare. 

You pour the drinks with a bit more care than before. Yet, your hands are just as clumsy. When at last you present him with a glass, it’s dripping. He doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Hey, his loss.” Sam says as he turns and waves you out ahead of him. “I mean, old man should be ecstatic to hang out with a girl like you. He don’t know what he’s got.” 

“No, he doesn’t,” you agree as you strut out into the front room. “You know, I didn’t even ask him to do anything. I set the date, I called the venue... he can’t even show up!” 

“Aw, baby,” Sam sits with you on the couch. He takes a small sip as you swig back a mouthful. “That’s not fair. You deserve better than that.” 

“I do,” you force yourself to put the cup down as you stomach stirs hotly. You wipe your sticky hands on your pajamas. He surprises you as his fingers wander over to touch the fuzzy fabric.  

“Soft,” he comments, “he’s really missing out.” 

“You like them? They’re new,” you look down at the crop top and pants. 

“Soft and cute. Like you, kitten,” he drawls and reaches to put his glass next to yours.  

Your head bobbles dizzily as you give a long blink. He continues to pet your pants, feeling the fluffiness. You can feel his touch beneath. It makes your skin hot. 

“You okay, baby?” He asks. 

You pout and shake your head. Your anger rolls into sadness, “no,” you sniffle as tears rise to the brims of your eyes, “no. Why doesn’t he care?” 

“Aw, honey,” he stretches his arm across your back and you fall against him, burying your face in his shoulder, “it’s okay. I got you.” 

“I tried so hard,” you snivel into his shirt as he rubs your back. His other hand cradles your head as he rocks and hushes you. “What am I gonna do? We signed a lease. We—we—I don’t think there’s any we--” 

His hand creeps down to your neck and he extends his thumb under your jaw. He nudges you up as he draws away. He slides his hand under your chin and you flick your lashes against your tears. Before your vision can clear, his lips are on yours. 

You push against his chest as you squeak in surprise. What is he doing? You tear your mouth away and gasp. 

“Sam!” You sputter. 

“Mm, he doesn’t deserve you, baby. Come on, let me show you what you need--” 

“What-- why--” you gulp. “No, I can’t.” 

“Kitten,” his hand falls down to your ass, “when’s the last time he even fucked you? I know you’re not all worked up just because a fight.” 

You blanch and push your lip out. How does he know? You shake your head. “No, that’s not...” 

“How long, baby?” He puts both hands on your hips and grips, kneading down to your thighs. 

“No--” 

“A month?” 

You look away as your eyes gloss over once more. 

“Longer?” 

You shiver and grab his hands. 

“Two... three...” 

You shake as you cling to him, “please, Sam--” 

“Six months? That’s it, right? Little longer?” 

“How--” you choke on your unintended confession. “No, Sam.” 

“I’m gonna treat you right, just relax,” he purrs. 

“I can’t. I love him,” you insist. 

“He doesn’t love you if he ain’t touching you,” he lurches your hips and easily puts you on your back. He shifts so that his knee is on the couch and drags the other up beside it. “Fuck, kitten, look at you,” he runs his hands up and down your thighs, “all dressed up for me, huh?” 

“Sammy, please--” 

“Mm, yes, keep calling me Sammy, baby,” his nails graze the fabric and he fingers curl around the elastic. 

You groan and press your hand to your forehead as your vision thrums. Your temples pound and your heart races in panic. You’re too drunk. 

He tugs and strips the pants past your ass. You whimper and throw your arm out. 

“Sammy... I... don’t feel good.” 

Your eyes roll back under your eyelids. You take deep breaths as you try to sober yourself. It only adds to the swirling sensation. Your legs raze with goosebumps as he frees your ankles from the elastic tails of the pajamas. You shiver and arch your back, exposed and weak. 

He growls as a rustle stirs the air and the fabric heaps noisily on the floor. He grabs your leg and bends it, leaning it against the back of the couch. He pulls your other over the edge as the couch jostles beneath him. You blink and see his blurry figure looming over you as he bends over your pelvis. 

You twitch and whine as he flutters his fingers along your folds. Your thighs tense. Your foot dangles just over the floor as your other sinks into the crack behind the cushion. Sam lowers himself as you retreat behind your eyelids. 

His breath fans over you as he hums and hovers over your pussy. He purrs and nuzzles the patch of hair. You moan and reach down blindly. He grabs your hand and shoves it back and slides his tongue between your lips. You gasp and spasm. 

He swipes his tongue again. You groan and your head falls to one side. You tilt your hips as he tends to you slowly, dragging up over your clit in long strokes before flicking back down. 

Shame speckles over you as you remember who he is. What he’s doing. This is Sam. This is Bucky’s best friend. Your friend. You're just friends. 

You squeeze your eyes shut as you dig down into denial. This isn’t real. Your drunk. This is all just the twisted delusion of your alcohol-laden mind. It’s not Sam making you feel so delicious. It’s Bucky. It’s Bucky. It can’t be anyone else. 

He reaches up your stomach, tickling your bare skin, and slides his fingers beneath the bottom of your top. He fondles your chest as he laps at your hungrily. You moan and clasp onto his hand. It’s so good. So good it has to be Bucky. 

You roll your hips in time with his tongue. You reach down with your other hand to push his head down. You need the release. It’s been so long since you got more than the fleeting pleasure of your vibrator. The warmth, the eagerness, the need in his touch enthralls you. 

You murmur and mewl as your thighs tingle and your spine zing. You’re almost there. You feel the tension twisting tighter, tighter, tighter. You flex your feet as you tilt your hips frantically and cling to his head. 

Your orgasm spills over and you cry out, “oh, Bucky, Bucky....” 

He sucks on your clit as your climax crests and dissipates in a smattering of nerves. You huff and heave as you yawling turns to gibberish. His breath is damp as he pants against your leg before slowly raising himself. 

He grabs your jaw and sets your head straight. Sam’s voice cuts through your fantasy. Your eyes round as you stare up at his dire expression. He shoves down his jeans impatiently as he squeezes until your bones ache. 

He bends over, resting his hard dick against your cunt, and rocks against you. He smears his length along your wet folds, thrusting slowly, just enough to thrum but not enough to stoke anything more. You wriggle and whine. 

“Forget him, kitten,” he continues his deliberate thrusts, “you’ll be begging for me and only me soon enough.” 

[skyewritesstuff]

paper rings (mike's version)

my masterlist.

entry 2 in my (taylor’s version) songfic series.

summary: despite the recurring hardships, you and mike make a vow to stay together through it all.

pairing: mike schmidt x reader

fandom: five nights at freddy's

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, yall. :')

notes: based on "paper rings" by taylor swift. has been beta read. yall, i swear i'm going to leave the josh hutcherson tag alone for a bit after this, i promise lmao. i also know i need to update my masterlist. i'm going to do this soon!

word count: 3k

At this point in your life, you did not need an alarm clock. 6:30 in the morning started at 6:20 when you’d hear the tell-tale honk of your boyfriend Mike’s car being locked. You technically didn’t have to be up until 7:00 to get Abby up and ready so that she’d be on the bus right at 7:45, but you always liked to greet him when he walked in since work had never been something he’d regard as an easy part of his life.

You’d known Mike since high school. You’d been chemistry lab partners, occasional study partners, and then prom dates. It was as cliche as a “will they/won’t they” situation could be until you two separated after graduation. You’d gone off to college and Mike had stayed local. You didn’t reconnect until you ended up back home working as a nurse in the local hospital and one of Mike’s various work (fight) related injuries landed him in the ER. After reconnecting there and exchanging numbers, you began casually seeing Mike whenever you could. Sometimes he’d flake due to job and schedule changes, not feeling up to it, or needing to meet Abby's needs. That was until the dates became more frequent and it wasn’t so casual anymore. You then moved into his small home with him and Abby, sticking by him despite his numerous job changes.

You got up, putting your discarded pair of Hello Kitty pajama shorts back on despite the black t-shirt of Mike’s falling to a point where they were almost covered. You then wandered into the living room, still a little sleepy, but glad to see Mike after spending all night sleeping on your own.

“Hey, you…” You said with a yawn, reaching to take his vest and keys from him to hang them up.

“What are you doing up?” he asked, sounding rather groggy himself.

“You ask me that every single day…” You laugh, leaning in to gently kiss his lips, “I just want to be there for you as soon as you get home, because I’ve been on graveyard before and it’s the longest, shittiest night you can have.”

He leaned in and kissed you again, his lips curving up into a slight smile, “Thanks, baby…as always.”

You take his hand and begin to walk with him back towards your shared bedroom, knowing you only have about twenty minutes or so to lay with him before you have to get back up for Abby. Mike strips down to his boxers and then crawls into bed with a heavy sigh and you follow suit, not even bothering to take off your pajama pants knowing what little time you had was going to pass by in what felt like an instant.

“Things still super weird down there?” You ask, referencing the pizzeria where Mike had taken his security position.

“As fuckin’ always…” He mumbled as he scooted into your side, hiding his face in the side of your neck.

“I wouldn’t get too comfy, babe…I’ve gotta get Abby up and situated in like ten minutes.” You warned, only to get a passive ‘Mhm’ in response. “I’m just warning you.” You rolled your eyes affectionately, wrapping one arm around him, lacing it into his hair, and running your fingers through his hair as you picked up one of the random books he had on the bedside table. This was a book with photos of nature and wildlife in the mountains of Wisconsin. As you flipped through the pages, you were trying your best to avoid falling back to sleep. As much as you wanted to lay there with Mike, you knew that if you fell back to sleep it’d mean that Abby would miss the bus. You’d either have to take her to school yourself, causing your morning to be shot or she’d miss school altogether, ruining any chance at having a day at home with just you and Mike on your day off.

Right at 7:00, you carefully slid out of bed, putting a pillow in your place. This didn’t seem to phase Mike, who was sound asleep when you walked out of the bedroom to head across the hall to wake up Abby.

Abby was already awake, sitting up in her bed. She was still in her pajamas with a sketchbook in her lap and a crayon in her hand. She was drawing a very abstract-looking yellow rabbit when she looked up at you.

“Do I have to go?”

“Yes…Please get up and get the outfit we picked out last night, okay?”

“Is that Mike’s shirt?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Gross”

With only short instances of protest over what shoes to wear, brushing her hair, and the lack of orange juice in the house, Abby was ready for school. She collected her backpack and gave you a tight hug before running out the door towards the yellow vehicle. Once you were certain she got on safely, you headed back to the bedroom, yawning as you crawled back into the warm bed. You settled under the covers and then moved over next to Mike, who was now turned with his back towards your side of the bed. You wrapped your arms around him and pressed your lips to the back of his neck gently.

He stirred slightly, moving to rest his hands against yours before lacing them together. “Welcome back…” he murmured, “Abby on the bus?”

You nodded, “Mhm…even ate two bowls of cereal this morning.”

“Good work, baby.” he chuckled before turning towards you, wrapping both arms around your waist to snuggle into you. “I try.” You replied with a soft laugh, kissing his forehead. It wasn’t much longer before Mike was sound asleep again and you were starting to drift yourself. The blankets were just too soft and warm. Factor in Mike’s body heat and you were a goner from the start. Sleep took you over sooner rather than later and you found yourself snuggled up into Mike as you finally got to go back to sleep.

Roughly three hours later, you were woken back up by the sound of the trash truck coming to collect the garbage from the cans placed by the curb. You groaned, wanting nothing more than your peace back as you slept next to your boyfriend, but instead, your eyes didn’t feel as heavy anymore.

You turned to Mike, letting out a sigh of relief when you noticed how soundly he was sleeping. It wasn’t a normal occurrence by any means. Normally, he’d sleep for an hour or two before being jolted awake by nightmares from his past and whenever you could be there, you’d try to hold him and coax him back into what you hoped would be a more relaxing sleep.

Today, he was lying in your arms with his head on your chest, breathing slow and steady and his expression was peaceful. You stayed next to him, attempting to fall back to sleep to no avail for around an hour before deciding to slip out of bed and head to the kitchen. You began to prepare breakfast, despite it being almost noon, turning on the small radio in the kitchen so that music would softly begin to pour out of the speaker without being loud enough to wake Mike.

You were focused on the food, trying to make sure nothing burnt, blissfully unaware of Mike leaning against the wall in the entrance to the kitchen. “You know, I’ve told you before you don’t have to do all of this for me.” He sounded both sleepy and amused, but his sudden presence still caused you to jump, emitting a small gasp as your hand came to rest on his chest.

“Michael, I swear to God…”

He fully laughed this time as he watched your reaction with a smirk, “Cute”

“Not cute, you scared the shit out of me. How many times do I have to tell you to stop sneaking up on me?”

“What can I say? Maybe those creepy ass animatronics at work are rubbing off on me because I swear I’ve seen them move without anyone pushing the button…” He spoke, wrapping his arms around your waist, leaning into you. He knew you were a bit of a scaredy cat. You’d made it known several times how you could handle all the real-life gore of a lifetime at work, but horror movies…let alone being in an abandoned building for five nights a week…were an absolute no-go for you.

A chill ran through you, partially due to what Mike said and partially due to the kisses he kept casually pressing against your neck, “That’s so weird. I hate that. I hate that. Maybe they just kind of settle…like how the house settles and makes weird noises.”

“Or they’re possessed..” You could feel him shrug from behind you and you rolled your eyes.

“Like that happens…who’s going to pull a Chucky and voodoo their souls into a giant animatronic bear?”

“The world’s full of freaky people.” he said, letting go of you to go sit down at the table. You promptly turned on your heel and leaned back against the counter, prepared to drop the sarcastic comeback that immediately popped into the forefront of your brain.

“Oh, I know that for sure. You should meet my boyfriend.”

“I’d love to. He sounds like a winner. He’s probably pretty hot too.”

“You’re a loser.” You laughed.

“Please, at least your first jab was original. Your mother calls me a loser like that’s my actual job title.” He was also laughing despite the awful reality of his statement.

You sighed, “And that’s not true and you know that. She and your aunt are just shitty people and when we get our shit situated to the point that we do not need them…then, no contact and we live stress-free.”

You turned back to the stove and started plating the food as Mike replied, “I genuinely don’t think stress-free is ever something in my future.” Your heart sank as it always did whenever Mike would make a statement like this. He’d made one mistake, as a child nonetheless, and it’d started a chain of events that consumed his entire life. He deserved better and a much brighter future than the present you two were currently situated in.

“You know I love you, right?” you said, turning, and putting some of the plates on the table.

He nodded, looking a bit confused by your question, “Yeah…”

“So, let it be known, that if it’s the last thing I do…We’re going to have the best life. You, me, and Abs and we’re going to be fine..” You sat the rest of the food out and then walked over to his chair, nudging it with your foot so he’d scoot back from the table, allowing room for you to sit on his lap.

“I mean…If this is where I think it’s going, I’ll be more than fine.”

You pursed your lips, taking a deep breath before putting both hands on each side of his face. His hands were on your thighs, trailing upwards very slowly as if you wouldn’t notice. “Mike…focus…what I’m saying is…I’m with you. I’m with you no matter what and even if things are shitty and could be better, you’ve still got me and you’ve still got Abby at the end of the day. I know you’re going to tell me no…but again, if we got married the benefits would be there for you and possibly Abby and…”

He shook his head, “I’m not marrying you for benefits. That’s just…shitty. That's beyond my levels of shitty. I want to marry you, but not like that. You talk about me deserving better all the time, but you deserve better than that. You take care of all of us and haven’t ditched me even after I beat the ever-loving shit out of some guy at the mall. You’re a saint. If I can’t properly propose with like..a ring, candles, Abby not harassing me about when I’m going to do it like she’s been doing for the past…I don’t know…six months…then, I’m going to put it on hold.”

You chuckled at his comment, “You think too highly of me, baby boy.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist and raised an eyebrow, “Do I, though? You do all of this on the regular and I don’t even ask you, and in fact, I’ve told you to stop.”

You shrugged, still laughing softly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “Just accept the love, Mike.”

You leaned in and kissed him gently. “You could do so much better, you know?” he stated. You kissed him again.

“How can I do that when I’ve already got the best?”

You spent the rest of the day with Mike, relaxing at home, watching TV, and napping off and on until Abby got home from school. Once her homework was done and everyone had dinner, Mike had gone to lay down for a bit to prepare for his nightly shift at Freddy’s and you were sitting at the table with Abby. Abby was drawing, per usual, and you were trying to finally put some of the pictures of Abby, you, Mike, and all three of you that you’d gotten developed placed into the frames you’d thrifted a few days prior.

“Why do we have to look at Mike any more than we have to?” she stated, eyeing a frame you’d just shut and were putting to the side containing a picture of the three of you on Abby’s last birthday.

You looked at her and then eyed the picture that she’d been drawing for the past hour. “That’s pretty bold coming from someone who puts him at the center of all of their artwork.” You laughed, causing her to immediately flip the paper over and act like nothing was there to begin with.

“You say that like you don’t pick on Mike too!” The younger girl rebutted. You shrugged in response. She had you there.

“You both just gang up on me. I’m outnumbered here. Two girls against me.”

You looked up and smiled, seeing Mike standing against the wall in a very similar stance as he’d appeared in the kitchen that morning.

“If you two have a baby and it’s a boy, we’ll all be even.”

“Abby!” You and Mike called her name in unison causing her to look up at the both of you as she flipped her drawing back around and grabbed a black crayon. No matter how long you and Mike spend informing Abby that she can’t just share whatever thought crosses her mind, all efforts seem to be futile. The comments should be expected at this point, but they still never ceased to shock not only you and Mike but her teachers and peers as well.

“What? I’m right.” she said, shaking her head before turning her attention back to the picture.

You let out a long sigh, sinking into your chair a little more as you went back to finishing the frames and Mike made coffee as part of his routine before work. He sat back at the table and took a sip, looking at what you were doing before looking at what Abby was doing. He sat his coffee mug on the table and took a piece of paper from Abby.

“Hey!”

“You’ve got like…twenty more pieces. You’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but I could’ve had twenty-one!”

You rolled your eyes at the banter between the two siblings before putting the photo frames into a box so that you could start putting them out after Abby went to bed. You set the box aside and then turned your attention back to Abby and Mike. Abby was delicately coloring in the sky in her picture and Mike was ripping a small square out of the paper. You watched him carefully as he started folding the small square in a few different directions, his brows knit together in concentration.

You let your head come to rest on your hand as you watched Mike. He remained completely oblivious to your observations of him and kept working until the square of paper had been transformed into a small circular shape. He reached over and grabbed Abby’s red crayon, drawing something on top of it, and then put the crayon back before the girl even noticed its absence.

“What are you…”

Before you could finish your sentence, Mike had gotten out of his chair and dropped to one knee right in front of you, holding up a paper ring with a small misshapen heart drawn on top. Abby abruptly turned her attention to her brother’s action, the dark blue crayon in her hand falling to the floor as her jaw dropped slightly.

“Y/N L/N, I love you more than life itself…which doesn’t sound like it’s saying a lot coming from me, but I promise it is. You talk about giving me a good future, but I just want to do the same for you. You deserve so much more than I’ll ever be able to give you, but I promise I’ll love you for the rest of my life. Will you…one day…let me replace this with an actual engagement ring…and marry me?”

You couldn’t help the way your face heated up at his words, your hands coming to cover your face to try to hide your reaction.

“Are you serious? Is this real? Do you really want to marry her? Is this finally happening?” It all left Abby’s mouth in a string of what felt like run-on sentences.

“It’s not up to me anymore, Abs.” Mike said, nudging your leg with his free hand that wasn’t holding the ring.

You laughed, shaking your head as you removed both hands from your face and held your left hand out, earning a gasp out of Abby. “I’d marry you whether you replaced the ring or not. I just want you.”

Mike grinned and then slid the paper ring onto your finger, “Then, I’m yours.”

You grinned back before leaning in to kiss him, your left hand coming to rest on his cheek as he smiled into the kiss.

“Oh gross…no…let’s skip to the part where I get to pick out a pretty dress.”

“Abby!”

In paper rings, in picture frames, and all my dreams

Oh, you're the one I want

[gojou-violin]

Hey Rhys! Hope you're doing well hehe

Lemme cut right to the chase as you're the resident sub writer here, I come to u with this idksjdikesj

We as a society need subby overstimulated Nagi Sei we really do

I leave it in ur hands to feed us something I trust ur work (;´༎ຶ◡༎ຶ`)

I mean if u're like in the mood to write if not just ignore this lmao

hello!!! i'm so glad i can be everyone's resident sub writer lmaoooo cuz i agree, i think we as a society need subby overstimulated nagi *evil laugh*. oh, the things i would do to ruin him.......

tw: 18+ only. somno. mommy kink. overstimulation. palming. whiney, pathetic nagi.

Nagi lazily bucked his hips. "Mommy, what're you..." His eyes were still closed as he bucked again at your touch. "Mommy," he moaned tiredly.

You slowly continued to jack him off, gently gliding your hand up and down his shaft while watching him carefully. Some time in the morning, as you'd gotten up to get ready for the day, Nagi started having a dream that resulted in small whimpers and air humps with a "Mommy, more..." every so often. When you'd gone back to check on him, Nagi was sprawled out on the bed, his hand buried in his pajama pants to hold onto his erection. He wasn't moving or anything like that. No, Nagi was too lazy for even that while he was asleep; but you could tell that he needed something with how desperately he was fucking his hand and the air during his dream. How could you deny your sweet boy? So you set to helping him by sliding back into bed, replacing his hand in his pants with your own. Nagi hardly noticed. He moaned at the touch, but he didn't stir.

"Oh, my poor boy... Are you dreaming about me?"

The longer it went on, though, Nagi began to wake up slightly, his eyes fluttering until they were half-lidded while looking up at you, his brows furrowed. When he realized that it was your hand on him, he moaned again and asked what you were doing.

"Taking care of you, baby," you answered.

His eyes closed again to let you know that you were free to do with him as you pleased.

With no protests from Nagi, you happily pushed his pants down so that you had clearer access to what you were working with, before jerking him off faster and harder, realizing that you didn't have long until you had to leave-- And with how distracting he'd been, you'd completely run out of time to get ready. It was a shame. But he was always more important.

"'m close," he warned quietly.

You leaned down to kiss his sharp jawline. "Let go for mommy, baby. It's okay. You don't have to worry about a thing."

Nagi grabbed the sheets weakly as his stomach tensed and his body froze up entirely. HIs orgasm hit him suddenly. With an abundance of whines and whimpers, he squeezes his eyes shut and started cumming all over his chest. You raked your nails done his stomach to his pubic bone as it happened. Nagi's eyes shot wide as he bucked.

"Mommy--"

Your hand pushed his hips back onto the bed.

"Fuck, thank you, Mommy, thank you, fuck, fuck--"

As his orgasm passed, he relaxed again, his eyes falling shut once more. Like usual, Nagi was expecting you to clean him up while he went back to sleep and you continued to get ready for work; but alas, you had other plans in mind. If he was so inclined to dream of you at night, you'd give him something to dream about all day while you were gone. So you didn't stop. You kept jerking him off with one hand while you brought the other to lay your palm flat on his tip, rubbing back and forth to overstimulate the most sensitive part of his dick.

Suddenly he was up.

Nagi jolted upright, grabbing at your wrists to make you stop, but you stared him down as a warning to go back to sleeping and let you be because you knew what was best for him— You’ve always known. But he couldn’t give in. He was sitting there squirming, biting his lip while trying desperately to catch his breath because he knew that he had to endure it. He knew that you wouldn’t stop ‘til you’re content.

“Mommy, please!” he begged so pathetically. “Please, please, please!”

“Please, what?”

“I can’t—“ He slumped on his back. “It’s too much.”

You slowed your hands gently before coming to a stop. “Good boy.”

He blushed at the praise. “If you wanted me to wake up, you could have just said so.”

“That’s not as fun.”

You leaned down to lick the cum off his stomach. He whimpered at the warm, wet touch that run along his midriff.

taglist: @aylitgirl , @sailewhoremoon , @justanotherpasserby-blog , @lyteatus , @bakugosgorl , @unknownspecies

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbors Pt.3

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha masterlist     Series Masterlist

Pt2

Word Count: 1k

Summary: When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

~

You and Nat began texting regularly back and forth every day, despite her initial hesitance to talk to a stranger it seemed like maybe she was beginning to open up to you, and it was safe to say she was on your mind 24/7- which after one too many glasses of wine and rom-coms lead you to pick up your phone and send her a text you were far too drunk to think over

               Nat🔪

Y/n🍦:

Heyyy segg-c ;)

The response wasn’t immediate although you could see she had viewed your message, you pouted at her lack of reply and sloppily typed out another message. You were relying solely on auto-correct to convey your emotions

Y/n🍦:

Don’t ignore m3 :(

Nat🔪:

Sorry-

What’s up?

Y/n🍦:

I’m lonely

How cme no one un New York wants to date me?

Nat🔪: 

Maybe because people in New York suck?

Y/n🍦:

I want to agree but technically I live in New York 

which means your saying that I suck

Nat🔪: 

You're*

And I mean

-If the shoe fits

Y/n🍦: 

Shhh my brain can’t think grammar right now

>:0 

Currently sobbing and not because of the Rom-coms

Nat🔪:

I’m kidding

You only wear Duck socks anyway

Y/n🍦: 

Stalker! 

How did you know I was wearing them?

Nat🔪: 

Well last time you were watching TV you were wearing them

I just guessed

Y/n🍦: 

I don’t believe you

I knew you were an FBI agent!

Nat🔪:

You got me.

Surprise

Y/n🍦:

 wait really?!

Nat🔪: 

Yep, I’m actually right outside your window

You, being in the drunken excited state that you were in, immediately dropped your phone on the couch and ran to the window, searching for signs of anyone but the local crackhead on the streets. Much to your dismay, no one was there

Meanwhile, Nat was silently praising herself for getting you to believe her story, but it was obvious you were probably under the influence of some sort of substance and despite you being a total stranger you were remotely interesting and she could humor herself a bit longer.

                        Nat🔪

Y/n🍦: 

You’re mean

Nat🔪:

Just so you know I’m laughing so hard right now

Y/n🍦: 

I don’t tolerate liars in the sacred house of Y/n

Nat🔪:

I didn’t know you were a religious figure

Y/n🍦: 

well when you look as hot as I do…

People can’t help but worship you

Nat🔪:

Understandable

I’m sure you look great

 Although your cheeks were already red from alcohol consumption, you were sure that if you had any friends they would point out the noticeable blush on your face

Y/n🍦: 

Thanks ;) 

 I’m sure you look great too

Nat🔪:

Yep

People are falling over themselves as I sit in my Pajama pants and Tank top

Nat looked up at the sound of someone entering the living room. Clint, surprised that someone else was in the room, tripped over his own feet and fell straight onto the floor, Nat chuckled to herself while Clint just groaned. Huh, guess she was right. 

“What are you doing awake Nat?” Clint stood and rubbed the back of his neck, stretching his now-aching muscles

“I could ask you the same thing” Nat shot back

“I’m just getting a snack,” He explained, opening the fridge and taking out some leftover pasta that Wanda had made, Nat lifted her brow in a silent question but Clint just shrugged and grabbed a fork

“Whatever, fine, don’t tell me I didn’t even want to know” He mumbled as he walked back to the elevator to go to his room

Nat decided her room would probably be a more appropriate space for privacy and left the living room for the solace of her bed

She knew she could look you up and find out who you were in seconds but it was nice to finally talk to someone new who wasn’t a target for a mission. And you were actually pretty fun to talk to. Maybe she’d just take a peek in the morning. For now, she was reveling in the moment.

                      Y/n🍦:

Y/n🍦: 

What kind of pajama pants?

Was the question Y/n had sent, along with a picture of her own pants, which had rainbows all over them. She laughed to herself, haha gay. 

She needed to drink less next time.

Nat🔪: 

Wow.

Nothing as interesting as those

Nat debated sending a picture of her plain gray pajama pants and after what felt like ten minutes of internal struggle, finally snapped a quick photo and sent it

Y/n🍦:

Booooo! Gray

You know a person's pajama pants say

A lot about their personality

Nat🔪:

I’m offended

Y/n🍦:

Good, you should be.

I’m offended too

Offended that you’d even consider buying pants so boring

Nat🔪:

What’s wrong with gray?

It’s a great neutral color

Y/n🍦: 

Is that what you want your personality to be Nat

Gray?

Nat🔪:

Well what would you suggest I wear then 

Miss Rainbow pants?

Y/n🍦:

Rainclouds

Since you’re so grumpy all the time

Nat🔪:

You’re really pushing your luck

Might just have to delete your number now

Y/n🍦: 

No!

I thought we were friends

Nat🔪:

Strangers

Y/n🍦:

Strange friends.

Nat🔪:

Don’t you have a job or something? 

How come you’re always up so late?

You should sleep

Y/n🍦:

Don’t You have a job??

Maybe you should go to sleep

Nat🔪:

I’m trying but this crazy stranger keeps

Texting me all night and keeping me awake

Y/n🍦: 

They sound like a great person

You two should definitely meet

Nat🔪:

Goodnight Y/n.

Y/n🍦:

:( fine

Good night Nat, good luck sleeping in your Gray bed

Nat scrolled up and checked the picture that she sent, confirming that her bedspread was in fact, not in the photo

Nat🔪:

How’d you know it was gray?

Y/n🍦:

 like I said-

A person’s pajama pants say a lot about them

Nat just shook her head as she shut off her phone, a smile on her face, You really were something. The more she talked to you the harder she found it to stop texting you.

Pt.4

-I had a random number invite me to a birthday party not too long ago. What’s your weirdest random number story?~ Starry

------

Taglist @romanoffsgal

[angelsanarchy]

Glass Houses: Jack Thurlow x Y/N One-Shot Series PRT 38 {END}

Tagging: @roryculkinluvr@thatsthewrongwallcraig@icarus-star @cc-luvr @madamemaximoff06@shady-the-simp @quicksilversg1rl @s-0lar @kristennero-wallacewellsver@ophelialaufey @mayathepsychic1999 @x-prettyboy-x @rorylover71 @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27 @kappasbbgirl @starry-eyed-wild-child

Jack sits in the bedroom with the light off and the glow of the tv with the volume down low is behind him as the cute, little fluff of white fur sits atop a pillow on Y/n's side of the bed. When the sound of the call comes over the laptop, he answers it quickly with a smile.

"Hi baby, I've missed that stupid face. How are my boys doing?" Y/n said from the other side of the screen.

"I've honestly never cleaned up more shit in my life. I swear he's doing it on purpose just to drive me crazier." Jack explains.

"It's how he shows love. Besides, he's a rescue so we knew he would have some things." Y/n reminded.

"Well if you start shitting all over the place to show me love, I'm sleeping on the porch." Jack teased making Y/n laugh.

"I miss you." Listening to her laugh and seeing her smile reminds Jack that she's been gone for three days. He's been home for three whole days without having her sleeping next to him, eating a meal with her, being inside of her.

"How's my girls doing? Is she a good traveler?" Jack asked as Y/n held up the sweetest ginger cat so that he could see her.

"She's been sleeping the whole way. Something tells me you two will be fast friends." Jack smiled seeing the sleepy kitten that Y/n snuggled in front of her camera.

"I can't wait for my girls to be home. I miss you so damn much." Jack takes a deep breath and Y/n puts the kitten back in her carry case so she can focus on him.

"Aw I'll be home soon enough to help you clean up all the shit." She teases. Jack laughs making the pup stir only slightly.

"Have you heard back from your publisher yet? How the book sale numbers should be in by now right?" Y/n asked but Jack sighed pushing his hair out of his face.

"Nothing yet. He said he would email me and I haven't gotten anything yet so I've been trying to keep busy." She frowns seeing the anxiety hanging off his brow.

"Hey if I'm a shit writer, I can always put my cock on the internet." Jack shrugged making Y/n smirk.

"I'm not in the habit of sharing my cock, thanks." Y/n leaned forward on her hands and Jack started to stroke himself through his pajama pants.

"You know I love when you talk about owning my cock." He grits through his teeth.

"Of course I own that cock baby, I put a ring on it." She bit her lip.

"Come on now, let mommy see." She presses and Jack stands from his chair and pushes his pants down to reveal his semi-hard cock with a cock ring fastened securely around the base.

"That's my good boy." Y/n stood up from the bed and started peeling her clothes off until she could sit the laptop on the side of the bed so she lay back to show him the plug she had wedged tightly into her ass. Jack started jerking his cock and practically crying as he watched her tease him.

"I'm gonna wear this the whole way home so when I take that ring off that pretty cock I love so much, you can fuck me the entire day." Y/n started fingering herself as she watched Jack tug himself roughly, using his free hand to squeeze his neglected balls.

"I want to fuck you so badly. I want to cum in every single one of your holes until it's seeping out of you. Oh fuck I want to cum so bad." Jack whined. He watched Y/n's hand as she started to bring herself to an orgasm and he licked his palm so he could twist the top of his cock teasing himself to no end. He knew he wasn't going to cum. He wanted to save it for her. All he kept thinking about since she left was cumming all over her, inside of her, like a fucking pent up fountain. He wanted to shoot his cum all over her face, her tits, her back and ass cheeks. He wanted to cover her in his cum like a dog smelling the heat of his mate.

The way she made him feel when he was this desperate for her was a filthy, pathetic mess but he fucking loved it. Once she got off, she watched him release his cock and take deep breaths.

"You're such a good boy. Saving all that cum for mommy." Y/n sounded exhausted and Jack whimpered as he felt his cock twitch with the ring still snug. Once Jack calmed down, he pulled his pants back up and sat back in the chair watching Y/n lay across the hotel bed, half naked and smiling at him.

Before he could say anything, his email dinged and they both froze. She scrambled to get to the laptop and Jack rushed to open the email from his publisher.

"No fucking way...this can't be real." Jack felt his heart beating so fast, he feared he might pass out.

"What does it say? Jack?! What does it say!?" She practically yelled.

"I made the best sellers list..." Jack said looking at her on the screen. Her hands went to her mouth and she shrieked.

"BABY! YOU FUCKING DID IT!" She jumped off the bed and started jumping up and down holding the laptop and Jack laughed as he wiped away tears.

"I fucking did it." He nodded as she sat the laptop back down.

"I can't wait to be home and kiss you! I'm so proud of you Jack." Y/n had tears running down her face and Jack took in a shaky breath. He couldn't believe this was his life. Two years ago, he was ready to give up. He was ready to let his demons engulf him. Now he was in love, had a family, a home and a best selling book.

"I love you." He says sincerely and she smiles at him.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

[angel-of-the-moons]

I love your work sm love every update you post!!✦

Could we get some fluff of Peter B? Maybe like the reader has a really rough day at work and I just so physically drained Peter just takes care of them?

(Sorry if this is bad this is my first time requesting!)

YESYESYESYESYES I'M SO HAPPY SOMEONE FINALLY REQUESTED PETER B AND TYSM

Bunny Slippers

Peter B Parker x Reader

TW/CW: None, just some fluff!

🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼

When you came home looking... well, down in the dumps, Peter felt his Hubby Senses tingling.

They were like his Spidey Senses, but for being a husband! Hah! Get it? Ah, right--ahem--anyways...

"Hey, honey, you okay?" Peter asked you, walking up behind you and kissing the top of your head.

"Yeah, I'm just... Had a really bad day today. Just... Ugh. Karen after Karen after Karen." You groan, almost feeling close to tears as you remember getting back to back one-sided screaming matches from the angry customers over things that weren't even your fault.

One guy came and screamed at you over something he ordered from a different store! And he still had the gall to demand a discount and refund from yours!

Peter, ever the sweetheart, wrapped his arms around you and swayed softly back and forth.

"Mayday's asleep. You go on and take a nice hot shower." He says to you.

"But dinner--"

"I can handle dinner, babe." He says, giving you another sweet kiss to your head. "You go relax for a bit."

"Pete..."

"I mean it. Don't make me use my puppy eyes on you!" Peter warns with a waggle of his brows.

You can't help but do anything but smile at his humor and relent, slipping your shoes off and trudging into the bathroom for a much-needed recharge.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Peter went into action. He started pulling out all the ingredients for your favorite meal and made sure he measured each ingredient perfectly.

After all, you having a bad day? His main mission now was making sure you ended the night with a smile. He knew you felt doubly bad as well, for not being able to kiss Mayday goodnight before she drifted off.

He hated seeing you upset. It was one of the worst things he ever felt when you would come home with your bottom lip poking out, your eyes glistening and sad...

You needed a different job. Maybe he could do some asking around, get one with an easier load, better hours and better pay... Because you two also had a baby to raise. She needed stability and you working so much made you feel inadequate as a parent, he could tell by how sadly you smiled when you held Mayday in your arms; how badly you wished you could be with her more.

He made a mental note to start looking online for you as soon as he got the chance. You deserved to work somewhere they knew your worth as an employee and coworker, not tossing you into the meat grinder for pissed off customers who, frankly, could have avoided troubles had they read their warranties or even directions on their purchased products regardless.

And with the holidays coming up, the mental strain from all that was piling up, and up, and up, and...

He sighed softly as the food was finishing up cooking, and he carefully ran to your bedroom, pulling out your comfiest pajama pants, fresh pair of undies, and one of his own shirts for you to wear when you got out.

He was still super duper stealthy as he slipped into the bathroom (almost choking on the amount of steam that invaded his lungs) and slipped the clothes in for you while taking up your uniform and dropping it into the laundry basket for him to do later.

After all, you needed a hell of a break, and chores were the least he could do for everything you already do.

He checked on Mayday through the baby cams, and smiled softly as she kicked out a little foot from beneath her blanket.

He loved the both of you, so so much. He still couldn't believe how lucky he was to have the both of you in his life.

Peter still couldn't believe you gave his dorky ass a shot that very first time he asked you out.

God, that felt like a lifetime ago.

He was shaken from his thoughts when the egg timer went off and told him the food was ready.

And frankly, it looked goddamn delicious.

Don't let it go unsaid that Peter B Parker knew his way around a kitchen. Sure, he ate like a pig (sometimes) and has gotten far too used to a diet of pizza and fast food...

But he sure knew how to cook when it came down to it. And nothing made him happier when he saw a grin break out on your face at the sight of your favorite dish.

Hell, he didn't even notice that you'd walked out of the bathroom until he turned around and almost tossed the rubber spatula he had in his hand across the kitchen.

How you managed to sneak up on him and not trigger his Spidey senses was a damn mystery.

"Aw... Pete..." You said, looking at the (admittedly messy) kitchen, seeing that he was cooking for you.

"I'll clean it up!" He says, sticking the spatula in the sink. "Been multitasking."

He sauntered over to you, proud as can be as he slipped his arms around you and tucked you against his chest.

"You didn't have to..." You start to say.

"Nah, I wanted to. And you deserve it, especially after the day you've had. Give me a hundred angry Goblins any day of the week." He snorts, breathing in the lingering scent of your body wash and soaps.

"At least I can punch him. But an angry customer? Phew, no way. I'd crack."

You can't help but laugh, the sound muffled by his fuzzy bathrobe.

"Yeah. They're terrible. Wanna switch jobs for a day?" You joke.

"Yeah no offense babe, but that's gonna be a hell no from me." He grinned down at you.

The two of you share a quiet laugh and chaste kisses, before he turns away from you and gets your plate ready.

"Bone apple the teeth!" He said, grinning like a ridiculously goofy shark.

"Pete!" You snort around a mouthful of food.

"Yeah yeah, I know I'm hilarious, but it's nothing to get choked up over!"

[topguncortez]

Here Comes the Sun | B. Bradshaw

Bradley Bradshaw Masterlist | Main Masterlist

synopsis: there is a reason why children are supposed to outlive their parents. It's so there parents never know a day without the sun. whumpril day 6: bad coping mechanisms.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: death of a child, cancer, grieving parents, tears, bad coping mechanisms, heartbreak.

note: April 6th might be just a normal day for you guys, but its probably the hardest day of the year for me. This fic is 100% self indulgent and for some reason I resonate grief and grieving with Bradley Bradshaw. I wrote this fic based on watching my parents grieve for the loss of a child for years, and then based on my own grief. it's never easy, and it'll never get easier.

That dreaded day came every year, like clockwork. There was a reason parents were supposed to die before their kids. It was so they didn’t have to live with the constant pain and reminder. Their house was quiet, no sounds of giggles or running feet. Everything was clean and tidy, no loose shoes and toys strewn out across the living room floor, or tutus and crayons in the basement. The color had left too, no more bright pinks and yellows, it was all pale grays and beiges. 

Every year they were constantly reminded of what they had. He’d roll over in the morning and see that you were already out of bed, more than likely sitting in your daughter’s room on the floor, staring at the empty bed that was still made and covered in stuffed animals. Even though it had been three years, neither one could find the strength to pack it up, everything still laid in its spot like a frozen time capsule. 

Bradley pushed himself from the bed with a groan, placing his feet on the cold hardwood. He looked over at the family picture that sat on his bedside table, it was one of the last family photo shoots they ever had with her. She looked so fragile, like she could break at any moment. You could tell by looking at her that she was sick, that her body was slowly shutting down, but her bright smile distracted you as she shined in the sun. He picked up the frame and gently ran his finger tips over the glass. It was also probably the last time he had seen you smile. Bradley set the picture frame back down and stood up, stretching his back slightly, and walking over to the window. He wasn’t surprised when he pulled the curtains back to see a gray, cloudy overcast sky. It always seemed to rain on this day. 

He wasn’t surprised to see you sitting at the table in the kitchen facing the large window. Bradley saw the cup of coffee, still hot, sitting next to you on the table. The room felt cold, the gray from outside not helping the feel at all. Bradley walked over to you, and gently touched your shoulder. You jumped slightly and looked over your shoulder, tears evident on your face. 

“Morning, honey,” Bradley said and kissed your forehead. You closed your eyes and nodded, grabbing his hand and squeezing it, “What do you want to do today?” 

“I’m not sure,” You said softly. It was your answer every year. You never knew what to do. How does one spend the day their child died? Bradley sighed and patted your shoulder, walking away and going to make them breakfast.

He pulled his phone out of his pajama pants and looked at the various messages left from friends and family. Each one telling him how they are thinking of them today, or how it’s unfair that their little girl was taken from them too early, or how they’ve never forgotten her sweet smile and laughter. 

“Do you want to listen to music?” Bradley asked, trying to fill the silence. 

“No,” You said quickly. Again, like every year, you shot down the idea of music, too afraid that that song will come on. Even on the other 364 days a year, you were scared that song would come whether you were driving home listening to the radio, or playing music from your phone. You hadn’t been able to listen to that song in full since the day they said goodbye forever. 

“We can go visit her later?” Bradley said in more of a question than a statement.

“I don’t know.” 

It was like pulling teeth sometimes to get you to go with him to visit their daughter’s grave. Bradley liked going, he liked sitting in the grass on a blanket with his guitar, and quietly playing to her, like he would’ve if she was still here. He always made sure to take fresh flowers to put in the vase. You didn’t like going. You didn’t like knowing her little girl was buried alone, in the cold dark earth. You knew that her soul wasn’t in the dark earth, that she had left and was dancing among the sun, no longer in pain and suffering. 

You didn’t say anything, but buried your face in your hands and let out a loud sob. Bradley paused what he was doing, and just listened to your soft cries. He knew there was no comforting you on a day like this, no matter how hard he tried. He had learned over the years that you just wanted to be left alone, and that’s what he did. He went about making them breakfast as you sat at the table and cried. These pockets of emotion would happen throughout the day, and it was best to just let them be and let them happen. 

After breakfast, the two of them sat on the couch, choosing to watch a movie to distract them. Bradley noticed that you held onto your daughter’s tattered teddy bear that she had taken everywhere. You held it close to your chest as you cuddled into Bradley, occasionally taking a deep sniff of it. It was amazing that it smelled like their sweet little girl; like lavender and antiseptic from the hospital. Bradley would occasionally get off the couch when the doorbell would ring, someone sending them a memorial flower arrangement or a fruit basket. 

“Do you think she knows what today is?” You asked Bradley softly. 

“I don’t know. . . I would think she probably knows the jist of it. She’s very smart,” He answered, “I like to think that she had people waiting for her when she got there.” 

You nodded and looked down at the teddy bear with the ripped ear, “I bet my grandma was there. . .or my uncle. Or the dog I had in elementary school.” 

Bradley smiled, “I know my parents were there waiting for her. I bet they had spent the whole time watching and talking to her, letting her know it was all gonna be alright.” 

He swore that in those final weeks he had gotten more signs from Heaven than he had in the past ten years. His parents visited him in a dream the night before their daughter passed, both of them standing in the sun and smiling at Bradley, telling him that he had done all he could do and they would take it from here. Little did Bradley know until a couple weeks later, that you had the same dream that night as well. 

“I hope they’ve been nice to her,” You said, your voice breaking. Bradley sniffled and held you close, rubbing your back as you cried, “Cause I know she’s being nice to everyone, and smiling at them and complimenting their eyes. God, she was always talking about people’s eyes.” 

Bradley nodded and let his own tears fall freely. They sat in silence as they cried on the couch, letting the movie playout. The sounds of rain pelting the roof and windows slowly pulled them to sleep as they both fell into a nap, holding each other, the teddy bear placed in between them. 

When they awoke, they noticed the rain had finally stopped, but the sky was still gray. A shiver ran down your body as you looked out the back kitchen window at the tire swing that still swung from the tree. Memories of the summer Bradley had put it up in the tree filled your mind. You had been terrified that something would happen, like the branch would break and your sweet baby would get hurt. How ironic that it wasn’t the swing that hurt her. 

Bradley was putting his shoes on when the soft sound of your footfalls filled his ears. He had the bouquet of fresh sunflowers to go in the vase at the cemetery, Sarah Kazansky had dropped them earlier, picking them right from her garden. He smiled softly at you, and you sucked in a deep breath. 

“I. . . I need to go with you,” You said and Bradley stood up from the stair he was sitting on. You felt a pang in your heart as you saw the painted names of your child and husband. 

“Are you sure? Cause you don’t have to. I can go alone, it’s fine, I promise,” Bradley said, gently holding your face in his hands. You nodded as tears brimmed your eyes again. He wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly in his embrace. You laid your head against his heart, listening to the soft thudding of it. He placed his chin on top of your head and the two of you stood in silence for a moment. 

He made the first move, and gently sat you down on the step with your daughter’s name painted on it. You had been the one to paint the names on the wood. Your daughter and Bradley always sat on the step and waited for you to come home from work. Her expression every time you’d walk through the door was as if she hadn’t seen you in years. You surprised Bradley with the small gift after he came home from one of his last deployments before she took a turn for the worst. 

Bradley helped put shoes on your feet and then kept his hand in yours as you walked to the Bronco. He had gotten rid of his truck almost immediately after your daughter’s death. He had only bought the Ford F-150 because it was more suitable as a family car than his father’s hand-me-down Bronco. Bradley couldn’t stand seeing the truck in the driveway, knowing he wasn’t going to hear soft giggles from the back seat or feel gentle kicks against his seat as he drove her to daycare in the morning. 

The drive to the cemetery was silent, as you watched the scenery pass by. It was almost the same route that you took on the day of her funeral. You drove by the small church that she was obsessed with. You and Bradley thought it was silly that a little girl was so obsessed with an old white chapel with beautiful stained glass, but it made more sense after she died. The cemetery grass was plush green and looked soft. Shades of gray and black filled your vision as Bradley slowed down on a small path right off the main road. He put the Bronco in park and sat back in his seat, turning his head towards you. He felt his heart break as silent tears ran down your face. 

“Oh honey,” He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. He hated making things worse for you. He hated seeing you cry. If there was anything he could do to switch places with his little girl, he would do it in a heartbeat if it meant never seeing you cry again, “We can leave-” 

“No,” You whispered, “She needs us both here.” 

Bradley brought your hand up to his lips and kissed it. He got out of the driver’s side and quickly jogged to your side, opening the door and grabbing your hand. The earth was still wet from the constant rain of the day, as they walked in the wet grass up to the black head stone. You picked up your long sundress a bit so the bottom wouldn’t get completely drenched. It was a sundress that Carole had made for you before she died, and you wore it to both Carole and her daughter’s funeral. You let out a shaky breath as they stopped in front of the beautiful black stone, with their daughter’s name engraved in gray writing. 

‘Viola Caroline Bradshaw. 

February 12th 2016- April 6th 2021’ 

You ran your hands over the engraving as Bradley placed the small vase of flowers in front of her headstone. The smiling engraved picture of their daughter looking back at them. The picture captured almost everything about Viola, even her bright brown eyes and smile. It was almost like it was real, like they could reach out and touch her. 

“Hi, babygirl,” You whispered, “Sorry I haven’t been here. . . I promise I’ll come back. I promise you.” You pressed your lips to the cold stone, and then stood up to stand by your husband. 

Bradley wrapped his arm around your waist, and you laid your head on his chest. The scene was like one from years ago as they stood in front of the stone. The sky is gray with heavy rain clouds. A brush of wind blew through, making the chimes in the tree they planted ring. You tensed for a moment, and so did Bradley, as the clouds rolled back just for a moment and a ray of sunshine filtered down to the earth. 

You picked your head up from Bradley’s chest, and looked at the bright light as it shone on them, making them feel warm for the first time in years. You gently took a step away from Bradley, almost as if you were getting closer to the sun. He watched you as you closed your eyes, taking in the moment, as the clouds slowly started to roll together, ceasing the sunlight. You opened your eyes, and looked towards the sky, as if their daughter had sent that beam of light to them. Bradley walked towards and placed a kiss on the stone, patting it and then turning to his wife. He grabbed your hand and the two of them walked back to the car, in a little bit better feel than before. 

It wasn’t a happy feeling, it wasn’t an angry feeling, it was a peaceful feeling. They both settled into their seats and Bradley started the car. Both of them froze as they heard the opening chords of that song. Bradley moved quickly, going to change the channel but you stopped him. Bradley looked at you with wide eyes, as you smiled and then looked back at her daughter’s headstone. 

“Thank you, baby.” You whispered to the sky, and Bradley smiled shyly to himself. He turned the song up just a little bit, as he put the car in drive and slowly drove off from her grave. 

The clouds once again rolled back, letting a beam of light shine down on the little girl’s grave, making the engraved quote on the headstone stand out even more than it already did. 

‘Here Comes the Sun. . .’

[maren-gvf]

Good

Jake One-Shot

jake kiszka x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDI, smut, cursing, a little bit of drinking, general foreplay, !protected! p in v sex, teen Jake (18 give or take) (I know this isn't what teenage Jake looked like, but I don't feel comfortable using those pics)

Lemme know if I missed any warnings 😙

A/n: writing bc of writer's block! anyways, I really love this type of Jake fic so I wanted to make my own. I hope u enjoy!

Your phone buzzes as you pull into the Kiszka's driveway.

Josh: are u almost here?

You take out your phone and text him back.

You: Yeah I just pulled into ur driveway

Josh: k u can just come inside

Josh: the door's open

You: kk

You get out of your car, grabbing the Walmart bag full of supplies and your backpack. He was right, the front door was unlocked. You felt weird just letting yourself in, but it's whatever.

Josh is sitting at their dining room table when you walk into the foyer. He's drawing something on the huge piece of white poster paper he got for the project.

"Hey!" He greets you, looking up at you.

"Hey!" You say back, setting the bag on the wooden table. You start taking out your computer.

"How's the research coming along?" Josh asks, continuing to draw what looks like plants.

"Well," you start, pulling up the shared Google doc, "I found a lot out about the different organisms you'd find in a rainforest, but that's about it," you say, letting him scroll around.

"It looks good," he compliments. "Very informative."

"What about you?" You ask, grabbing a blue marker and walking over to the other side of the table to start on the fonts.

"I've done a couple things," he says.

"By that you mean you've done nothing," you say, giving him a look.

"Okay it's not my fault," he starts, putting the cap on the green marker he was using, "Jake needs me to sing for his band, so I haven't really had the time to do anything."

"Jake has a band?" You ask, looking up at him.

"You talking about me, Josh?" That familiar voice says. His familiar raspy tone crackled through your ears.

"I was just telling Y/n about your band," Josh says, grabbing another marker, "and how I never have time for school because of your ass."

Jake laughs to himself which makes you go momentary blind. You breathe in deeply, trying to ignore him even though his presence looms over you like a thick blanket.

He's not wearing a shirt, only some long pajama pants. He pops the cap of his beer on the edge of the table and takes a seat which makes his bicep muscles come out a bit. He wasn't very muscular, but leaner. You could see a faint outline of abs when he walked over to his seat.

Fucking hell.

"You interested or something?" He asks you, his stare burning into the side of your head.

You knew Jake only because of Josh. You weren't necessarily close with either of them, but your parents were good friends. You saw Jake around school and only had one class with him in Junior year. Josh was in your biology class which got you paired up together.

"I didn't know you played," you say, continuing to write, unable to look at him.

"Hm," he takes a swing of his beer, "well maybe you could come watch us some time."

"Maybe..." you say, nervously coloring in your letters.

Josh's phone dings, "Oh shit! I'm supposed to go pick up Sam from Danny's," he says. "Are you good to hang here by yourself and work on it?"

I have to stay here with Jake?

"Um, yeah, I'll be fine!" You say, watching him gather up his keys.

"Okay, and Jake leave her alone!" He yells, exiting the house. The front door slams and you're left there alone with Jake.

You continue your work, ignoring Jake who's very obviously looking at you as he drinks his beer.

"Do I make you nervous or something?" He asks.

"Why would you think that?" You ask, finally making eye contact with him which was a clear mistake.

"Well for one, your face is all red, and two, you're obviously trying to avoid me," he says, leaning back on the chair. His legs open a little.

"You definitely don't make me nervous," you say, your voice a little bit shaky because he does actually make you nervous.

"You're such a bad liar," he says, laughing to himself once again, a stupid smirk on his face.

"What are you doing here anyways?" You ask, now looking into his eyes.

"Uh, this is my house," he says, crossing his arms with a slight tilt of his eyebrows. You ignore his comment, feeling a little embarrassed.

He gets up from his chair and walks over to you. He's standing so close you can smell his body wash and the slight lingering scent of his shampoo. You feel like you're going to faint any second. He's so overwhelming to look at, you wanna burst into dust or flames or something!

"I've always had a thing for you, you know?" He says, reaching across your line of sight to grab a red marker.

You stand up, looking directly at him, "What?"

"Yeah," he leans on the table, twirling the red marker in his hand, "I've always thought you were beautiful and you have a cute personality." He tilts his head towards you a little bit.

He's so casual about it, you think you're dreaming. He moves a little closer to you. Your heart races uncontrollably. Your hands instinctively land on his chest. His eyebrows raise in satisfaction like that was his plan.

"Can I?" He says in a low voice, putting his hands on your waist as he walks you backward out of the dining room.

You gulp, nodding your head as you maintain eye contact with him.

He stops you in the dark hallway, pressing you gently against the wall as his hand slides up your shirt. His other hand holds your jaw, lifting your chin up slightly.

Please don't let this be a dream!

He brings his lips down to yours, kissing you gently before adding more pressure. His lips are so soft, you melt right into them. His tongue parts your lips, slowly sliding into your mouth. He tastes incredible. The kiss slowly becomes more needy, your hands going into his hair.

His lips disconnect from yours, traveling down your jaw and latching on your neck. He gently sucks at the skin enough to give you pleasure but not enough to leave a mark.

"Fuck me," you barely say, your hands traveling down his warm, tanned skin to reach the waistband of his pajama pants.

"I will, baby, I will," he breathes, kissing your lips again.

He moves you down the hall and into a room that you could only assume was his. He strips you of your shirt before you lay down on the bed. He takes your shorts off, tossing them to the floor, leaving you only in your bra and underwear.

What am I doing right now?

He separates your legs as he lays himself in between them. He kisses your lips before undoing your bra and adding it to the pile of clothes.

"You're gorgeous," he says, breathing heavily. "I need you."

"I've needed you more," you breathe out.

He slides your underwear off, leaving you completely naked under him. He slides two fingers into your wetness. He slides his fingers inside of you. You immediately hold onto him, your mouth open a little bit. He pumps them in and out of you.

"Holy shit," you moan, connecting your lips to his. His tongue distracts you from the amazing feeling he's building up inside of you.

"Jake-" you tilt your chin up.

"Come for me, baby," he says, continuing his motions as he plants kisses over your breasts.

Your orgasm hits you like a truck. He takes his fingers out of you.

"Jake, I need it, I need you to fuck me," you say, breathless.

"I know," he says, opening his nightstand and taking out a condom. He strips himself of his pajama pants, slipping the condom around his dick. He crawls on top of you, your legs wrapping around his waist. He situates himself in front of your entrance before slipping inside of you.

"All this for me?" He smirks, lightly thrusting in and out of you. Your arms wrap around his back, your fingers digging into his skin. Your breath hitches as he pulls in and out.

How'd I go from doing homework to being fucked?

He rests his head on your shoulder, his breath hitting your collarbone.

"Fuck, Y/n," he sighs, "you feel so good."

Your hands wrap around his biceps as he continues thrusting, "I'm almost there, Jake." You tightly shut your eyes, your hand flying down to grip the sheets. Both your bodies produce moans of pleasure that surround the room.

Your second orgasm approaches. Jake fucks you through it as his own takes over him. He releases himself, “Fuck,” he moans into the crook of your neck.

He pulls out falling to the side of you.

“Holy shit,” you laugh, covering your mouth. Both your breathing is rapid.

“Y/n!” You both hear Josh shout from the living area.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you say, scrambling off the bed and getting yourself dressed. Jake puts his pajama pants back on.

“Wait,” he says, holding the door closed, “I meant what I said in the dining room. I do… really like you.”

You smile, tucking some hair behind your ear, “I really like you too, Jake.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

[riannimated]

HI RI ILY SO MUCH 🥰💕💕💕💕💕💕

I was not joking when I said I would send a request suggestion on sight.

Perhaps.... some Hisoka New Years kiss? 🥺

AND I LOVE YOU!!!!

Also oop, not me answering this late af, but time doesn't exist and I hope this isn't too ooc or cheesy as hell.

Still getting into the groove of my soft side 🥰

Pairing: Hisoka x Reader

SFW. Tooth rotting-ly sweet imo

Word Count: 1.4k

Notes: Established relationship, Angst if you squint, Reader is semi afraid of heights, Hisoka is a cheeky little shit in this, but what else is new.

Celebrating the New Year was something that you’d honestly forget about doing if it weren’t for the borderline excessive amount of attention that surrounded it.

It was only around 11pm, but some people had decided to start the celebration early - a few select areas of the city lighting up with tiny pops of colour. It would be nothing compared to the grandeur to come, but it was still an enduring sight from your balcony.

You were sitting in a soft chair you had dragged out from your living room, the one with a coffee stain on the left arm rest, wrapped up in a shawl and already in pajama pants.

You had given up on Hisoka coming hours ago.

It wasn’t a surprise, really, and you weren’t mad at him. How could you be, really? You knew his whims took him to all corners of the world, and he was even worse with keeping track of holidays than you were, so to be upset with him over such a thing would be unfair.

The logic didn’t do much to lessen the blow to your emotions, though.

A noise of displeasure left your throat when you took a sip from the tea in your hands only to discover it was now luke-warm, and you looked down at your watch.

11:23pm

You had decided to stay up until midnight so you could send the appropriate people a few texts and then take a shot if you were feeling frisky before going to bed, but you would need more caffeine if you were going to get there.

You tightened the shawl around you as you stood and shuffled back into your apartment towards the kitchenette. You scrolled through your phone as you waited for the water to boil, clicking on the many stories of your friends and family and subsequently skipping through all of them since they were basically all the same.

Drinks. Parties. Obnoxiously big smiling faces. Large text that read “Happy New Year” with more party hat emojis than you could count.

You closed the apps and fixed your tea before making your way back towards the balcony on autopilot.

“Boo. ~♡”

The shriek of terror you let out was followed by the unceremonious throw of your mug towards your intruder - an action that was regretted the second your brain caught up with just who it was leaning against your chair in the dark.

Your mug and a solid three-quarters of its contents froze in mid-air while the rest splashed harmlessly to the side and on the right side of the chair. Hisoka tilted his head to the side and let the rest of the tea fall by his feet while he kept your mug dangled in the air. 

“Your aim is getting better, have you been practicing? ~♢”

You visibly relaxed and pointed a finger at him sternly, but were unable to hide the smile forming on your face.

“You asshole, how many times do I have to tell you to stop doing that?”

“Several. ~♡”

“And you have yet to use the front door, why?”

He shrugged his own smile forming as he retracted his nen so the mug came to his hand effortlessly. “If I did that, what fun would that be? ~♢”

“I guarantee it would be better than getting stains on your clothes.”

He hummed and set the mug down on the newly soiled chair arm. “I have others. ~♧”

The retort on your tongue died when he walked the three strides it took to reach you and slip his hands under your shawl and onto your shoulders.

You sucked in a sharp breath, “Jesus fuck you’re cold.”

“Language. ~♤”

“No.”

He stayed quiet when you took his hands off your shoulders to hold them between your own. He let you bring them up to cradle against your neck, no teasing comment following how unbothered you were by the sharpness of his nails as you tried to warm them up.

The two of you stood like that for a moment - silence only broken by the interspersed pop of distant fireworks. After a while, you rested your cheek against his knuckles as you looked at him.

“I thought you weren’t going to show today.” You said softly.

Hisoka hummed as he scanned you up and down. “I can tell.”

“Gee thanks, love to hear it.”

“You’re not letting me finish, darling,” He untangled his hands from yours to boop you on the nose. Your face scrunched up with the action and you stuck your tongue out at him. “I was going to say: I can tell, so it’s a good thing the place I plan to take you doesn’t have a dress code. ~♤”

Your teasing guard dropped immediately and you looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“You want to go out? It’s-” You looked down at your watch. “11:40.”

“It isn’t far.” He gently pulled you back out onto your balcony. “But it will be faster if we leave my way instead of yours. ~♢”

You looked at him like he grew an extra head. “You’re joking.”

“Trust me, my dear. ~♡”

You huffed and placed your shawl over the back of the chair, hoping the smile that formed on your face didn’t betray your nerves. “If I die, I’ll kill you.”

“Promises, promises.” He ushered you closer with a small motion of his hand. “Jump up, it’ll be faster if I carry you. ~♤”

You hesitated, but obliged. Hisoka’s arms looped under your knees as soon as you were in the air, and you hooked your arms around his neck.

“Don’t drop me, please.”

He chuckled, but didn’t reply. You knew he wouldn’t, and he knew you knew, but the nonverbal affirmation was still appreciated since the sound was quickly followed by him jumping up onto your railing and pushing off.

There was no part of you that could ever properly prepare for just how fast Hisoka was.

In short, it was awe inspiring that a human was capable of reaching such a speed. The world turned into a blur of technicolor as it whizzed past you, and motion sickness threatened to rear its ugly head when he made any movements that your body deemed too jarring. You closed your eyes to compensate. It felt like riding on the world's least predictable roller coaster.

When he finally slowed down, you found the courage to reopen them.

You were nowhere new, but the view from Heaven’s Arena would never be something you’d even come close to getting used to.

It was phenomenal. Granted it wasn’t the very top of the building - an area that was off limits even to someone like Hisoka - but you had no complaints whatsoever. You could see the entire city from up here.

He set you down on the ledge he had chosen, and you still clung to him even after your feet touched the concrete.

“How high are we?”

“Very. ~♧”

You looked at him deadpan. “Wow, thank you for that brilliant reveal-.”

He shushed you, turning your cheek out towards the city skyline with a single finger. “Look. ~♢”

You almost missed it. The distant chant of thousands of voices counting down the final seconds of the year.

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

The night lit up with the first bout of official fireworks. The city had clearly planned the set up to stretch across several miles so everyone could witness a piece of the artwork on display, but from your view you saw everything.

Bursts of white that soon had red, orange, and yellow joining in filled the air. The pops from the explosions were delayed due to distance and the music that the fireworks were timed to was extremely faint, but it didn’t faze you whatsoever - small gasps of wonder and excitement leaving your lips whenever a particularly impressive moment occurred.

When you looked back towards Hisoka he was already looking at you, golden eyes half-lidded but portraying something other than boredom or decet.

He hooked his fingers under your chin and pressed a kiss to your lips. 

You had kissed Hisoka many times, but this one felt different. It wasn’t quick and sweet, or drawn out and full of lust. If you had to put a label on it, it was all the things left unsaid.

It was everything.

And you couldn’t ask for anything more.

© riannimated 2023. Do not repost, modify, copy, or claim.

[cosmicanamnesis]

he tastes like chocolate pt.6

[part 1] [part 5] [part 7] [read on ao3]

Steve felt a little stupid knocking on his own front door, but better safe than sorry. He waited a beat before opening it, bracing for indecent noises. Instead, he heard the TV going.

“Steve?” Robin yelled from the living room. He took that as his cue to step inside more so she could see him. Sitting cross legged next to her on the couch was a very pretty redhead that Steve vaguely recognized as Vickie, Robin’s latest dating app match.

“I’m not staying,” Steve felt the need to clarify for Vickie’s sake, despite the fact that she seemed fully engrossed in whatever they were watching and barely even noticed that someone else had come inside. Robin gave him a thumbs up as he turned down the hall to his room to grab his stuff.

He grabbed a pair of pajama pants and his phone charger and debated for a minute whether he should bring his meds with him or just take them while he was there. Easier to just take them then, he figured. Then he wouldn’t have to worry about forgetting them in the morning, or having to explain why he takes antidepressants for migraines.

It would just be easier.

He grabbed his toothbrush out of the bathroom and quickly ducked into the living room to kiss Robin on the top of her head before leaving for the night. 

Eddie was on his phone when Steve got back out to the idling van, handful of items tucked under one arm.

"Hellfire?" Steve asked, catching a glimpse of Eddie's screen as he got in the van.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Group chat. There's some party planning happening now but it's just the guys I play D&D with." Eddie slipped his phone back in his pocket and waited for Steve to get settled before pulling out of the parking lot.

"Oh, not you too," Steve groaned. Eddie couldn't tell if he was being serious or not.

"What, is that a deal breaker?" Eddie laughed. "The metalhead stuff is fine but the nerd shit is too far?"

"No! Just sometimes feel like me and Robs are the two people on the planet who don't play."

"I mean, if you wanted to learn you could join my-" Steve cut him off by burying his face in his pajama pants and screaming quietly. Eddie laughed so hard he very nearly ran a red light, braking hard at the last second. "So that's a no, then?"

"Fuckin' hell… Yeah, I'm gonna pass this time I think. I've got a reputation to uphold here."

"Oh, and what reputation is that? No, waitwaitwait, let me guess!" Eddie put a hand up to keep Steve from talking, fortunately not taking his eyes off the road anymore.

"Oh god…" Steve sighed, sinking down in his seat.

"Youngest of seven," Eddie started, counting on his fingers as he listed things out. "Used to babysit, and you still hang out with him. Not about the college life. You don't do nerd shit, you don't listen to metal, but you get along with people who do. You smoke, let's say socially…"

There was a long pause. Steve could practically hear the gears turning in Eddie's head. He was chewing on his lip while he thought.

"Got it!" Eddie snapped his fingers and pointed at Steve accusingly. "Washed up golden child."

Eddie knew he was right on the money when Steve made a noise like he'd been shot.

"Ouch, dude. Jesus," Steve choked out, hand over his heart like it was the most hurtful thing he'd ever heard. "Y'know, all of a sudden staying home with Robin and Vickie tonight doesn't sound so bad."

"I was right?" Eddie grinned.

Steve sighed, chewing the inside of his cheek. "They used to call me King Steve in high school."

Eddie laughed again, long and loud, relishing in this new knowledge. Steve shrunk into himself a bit more

"Aw, c'mon Stevie, have a sense of humor. Here, do me."

"Do- what?" Steve stuttered, trying to ignore the innuendo.

"Guess my reputation!"

Steve stared at Eddie for a moment, rolling what little he knew about the man around his head. An artist and a musician, shitty parents were practically a given at that point, lives with his uncle partially for definitely-not-school reasons, obviously queer, clearly a metalhead, plays D&D. Scary looking, at least according to him, but considerate to a fault.

"High school drop out?" he ventured, aiming for snarky but landing closer to judgey.

"Close!" Eddie yelled, smiling wide, tapping his hand on the steering wheel. He didn't seem to mind Steve's tone at all. "They made me do this program for kids who are having trouble graduating cause I was gonna get held back my senior year a second time. So instead, I took college classes for high school credit and did not, technically, drop out."

"Huh. That's kinda cool. My second guess was theater kid."

"Oh, you cut me deep, Stevie. Reading me like a fucking book."

"The D&D thing gave it away. Not an actor, though. Sound or stage crew."

"You seem awfully knowledgeable in the realm of high school theater, Steve. Do you have something you'd like to share with the class?"

"I- okay, it was one play, alright? It was a stupid little two act thing and my English teacher was giving extra credit to anyone who auditioned, cause she was also the drama director, right? So, extra credit to anyone who auditioned and an automatic passing grade to anyone who made the cast."

"That seems dubiously ethical," Eddie interjected.

"Oh, totally. But I was bad at English - I mean, really bad - so I'd take all the help I could get."

"You auditioned?"

"Got the lead role."

"Oh, fuck you. Of course you did. Fuckin' hated guys like that, no experience, getting the lead on the first try. The egos on those people, Christ." Eddie laughed his way through his tirade, but he was only half joking.

"Damn, I'm sorry I guess," Steve laughed with him. "If it helps, I really think she cast me out of pity. I wasn't good."

"Nah, I'm sure you did fine."

“I one hundred percent did not do fine. There’s a reason I did sports instead of drama.”

“What sports?”

“Basketball and swim.”

“Shit dude, you guys had a swim team? That’s cool!”

“I’m sensing sarcasm.”

“Nah, for real! My high school was way too poor for that shit! Like, don’t get me wrong, I didn’t really, uh, vibe, I guess, with the sorta… jock athletic types. But I was an openly gay teenager, man, I was walking the mile with the scene girls watching the track guys do their thing during gym.”

“Oh, you were one of those,” Steve said, nodding knowingly. 

“Yeah I was one of those,” Eddie replied emphatically. “If we had a swim team, I wouldn’t have survived.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m a simple man, Steve. A simple man with simple wants, and against all odds, athletes do it for me.”

“Good to know.”

“Well, what about you? What was King Steve chasing?” Eddie caught himself being weird, again, and quickly changed the subject.

The way Eddie said King Steve made Steve want to gag. The nickname was fine when he first got it. He liked that people liked him and looked up to him. It almost made up for the way his parents treated him. But it stopped being fun his junior year, and by senior year when the new guy showed up, he was quick to let himself be dethroned. It was just so much pressure. The same kind of pressure he was getting at home.

“Ugh. Don’t ever call me that,” Steve cringed. “But no, I uh… I really just kind of cycled through girls in high school. Well, no, that’s not true, there was this one girl I dated for a while, but. After her, the King Steve shit sort of ended and no one wanted anything to do with me anymore.”

“Oh… Just girls?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Nothing, you just said… About your wingman trying to hook you up with-”

“Oh! Yeah, no, I realized I was bisexual after I met Robin. Apparently the normal amount for straight people to be attracted to the same gender is, uh. A lot closer to zero than what I was experiencing.”

Eddie tried to not make his sigh of relief too obvious. He believed Nancy, and he had a feeling that she was the girl Steve was talking about, but it felt like a weird time to bring up the fact that he was friends with Steve’s high school ex. He just wanted the confirmation from Steve that he was, in fact, bisexual, and he hoped he hadn’t laid it on too thick with the liking athletes thing. It was true, of course, and knowing Steve was a jock in high school definitely wasn’t doing Eddie’s impulse control any favors, but Eddie wasn’t a man known for his subtlety. He just… He didn’t want to scare Steve off. He wanted this. He didn’t want to fuck it up by being weird and gross.

They pulled back into the trailer park to find Wayne standing at the foot of Murray’s porch steps, smoking with Murray and another man Steve didn’t recognize. Eddie didn’t bother turning the engine off before he got out.

The men paused their conversation as Eddie got out of the van.

“Gotta go?” he asked, walking up to Wayne. He could hear Steve getting out of the car behind him.

“Yep,” Wayne nodded. 

“We were just talking about your boy there,” Murray said quietly, waving to Steve as he joined the circle.

“He’s not-” Eddie started before realizing Steve was practically at his side already. “Hey. Wayne’s gotta take the van to work. I can take you home in the morning when he gets back.”

“Sounds good,” Steve nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

The man Steve didn’t recognize said something in a language he also couldn’t identify.

“Da,” Eddie replied. “If that’s okay, I mean.”

“Of course, Eddie,” Murray smiled, giving Eddie a suggestive look. Steve had no idea what was going on.

“Cool. We’re gonna go,” Eddie said, jerking his thumb back at his own trailer. He hooked his arm around Steve’s and dragged him along before Murray and Wayne could embarrass him any more.

“Who was Mr. Gibberish there?” Steve asked once they were out of earshot.

“Hm? Alexei? He’s Russian. Doesn’t speak a lot of English.”

“You speak Russian?” Steve asked, shocked, as Eddie let them into the trailer. Eddie laughed.

“Not if you ask Alexei. But yeah, living next to them for so many years, I’ve picked up a little.”

“Are they… I mean, him and Murray-”

“Gay? I have no fucking idea, dude. They’ve lived here at least as long as I have and I literally could not tell you. Frankly, I don’t wanna know.”

“Yeah, that’s… That’s fair. I don’t think I actually want the answer.”

“Good choice.”

“What did he say to you?”

“Huh? Oh, don’t worry about it. Normal neighbor shit, y’know?”

Eddie had started wandering back towards his bedroom as they talked so he could toss his coat. Steve followed him into the room, leaving the door open behind him, and started looking around.

Much like the rest of the Munson trailer, it was a far cry from what Steve had grown up with. There was so much personality in it. The walls were almost entirely covered with posters, photos, drawings, and a giant bedsheet tapestry that read CORRODED COFFIN in a sharp sort of font. There were guitars and amps lining the room and clothes all over the floor. Eddie’s bed wasn’t made, and his desk was covered in books and papers and tiny pots of paint and other art supplies. One tall bookshelf was packed entirely full of books and minifigures and empty water bottles.

Eddie sat down on his bed and pushed himself back so he could lean against the wall, growing more and more self-conscious as Steve examined his room, realizing how messy it was, how much trash was on the floor, everything that might be off-putting.

“The hell- Do you speak German, too?” Steve asked, tapping on one of the books on Eddie’s bookshelf, a German edition of the Lord of the Rings.

“Oh, actually yeah. I mean. Enough to read it at least, and listen to music. I could probably hold a conversation if I had to, but uh, I’ve never had to.”

“Dude. How many languages do you speak?”

“I swear that’s it. English, a little German, a little Russian.”

“How the fuck did you get held back in high school twice?”

“Because the American public education system as an institution is an intellectual sinkhole that only aims to teach you how to take tests and follow instructions and be a perfect little cog in the machine, and not actually retain or comprehend new information or foster a love of learning or, god forbid, think for yourself… And also I have, like, a lot of ADHD.” Eddie pushed a hand through his hair, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck.

Steve laughed and sat down on the edge of Eddie’s bed, holding his bundle of stuff in his lap.

“That makes sense,” he said. “That’s so cool, dude. I took Spanish for two years in high school and retained fucking none of it. Robin speaks all sorts of languages. She keeps trying to teach me, but like, again, bad at English and it’s the only one I know.”

“Well, at least you’re pretty,” Eddie laughed. He didn’t mean to make Steve blush, but he could see Steve’s whole face flush red as he pushed his hair back, smiling bashfully but looking away from Eddie. “Anyway,” Eddie cleared his throat. “Um. It’s late so we should probably, like. Sleep. We’ve got a party tomorrow after all.”

“Oh. Right, yeah.”

"So, the couch is like, crazy uncomfortable, my bed's not much better, and I don't care where I sleep so you pick."

"Pick… dude, I'm not gonna make you sleep on the couch in your own house! What kind of dick move is that?"

Eddie shrugged, leaning forward to untie his boots. "You're the guest," he said plainly. 

"Okay, I'm not gonna commandeer your room, though. What kind of friends do you have that they make you sleep on the couch?"

"Oh, no, if my friends stay over, we just all cram on the bed or make a pillow nest on the floor. But like, I dunno, you… We don't know each other that well, I didn't want to throw that option out and make you uncomfortable." Eddie could feel this face heating up, and started quickly working his fingers through his curls, instinctively trying to hide behind his hair.

"Oh good, you are normal," Steve laughed.

"The fuck does that mean?" Eddie giggled in mock offense.

"Nothing! Just, that's what me and all my friends did. Robs and I still sometimes share a bed, or like, we'll drag my mattress out into the living room and have a movie night like that."

"Aww, that's so cutesy I could vomit. And you wonder why people think you're dating?"

"No, I know why," Steve sighed.

"Well, it sounds to me like you’re trying to sleep with me on the first date," Eddie smirked, waggling his eyebrows in a way that couldn't be taken as anything but goofy. He leaned over into Steve's space, all but crawling into his lap. Steve didn't lean away, but he put his hand against Eddie's forehead to push him back.

"Oh, fuck off. I’m saying we're both adults, and I don't care if you don't," he sighed, laughing like Eddie was wrong. Innuendo aside, there really wasn’t anything Steve wanted more right then than to share a bed with Eddie. He hadn’t really expected to get the chance so soon.

Soon, like Steve hadn't spent the better part of three months pining after the guy, flirting his little heart out all December.

Eddie smiled at him and backed off, scooting to the edge of the bed to actually take his boots off. He glanced sideways at Steve, partially obscured by his hair. 

This very pretty boy was all but begging to share a bed. This pretty, kind, hilarious boy, god, he even smelled good. Eddie caught the scent of his cologne while he was making a fool of himself. They'd had each others' numbers for not even twelve hours and Eddie was already throwing himself at Steve.

"I'll take the couch," Eddie smiled, deciding not to dig his pit of embarrassment any deeper tonight. He stood up and glanced around his floor for anything resembling pajamas. "I’m sure you saw the bathroom on the way in. There's an outlet there behind the nightstand. And don't snoop, there's shit in here I don't want to have to explain."

"I'll try to resist the urge," Steve chuckled, working so hard to keep the disappointment out of his voice. Eddie clicked his tongue, flashing Steve a smile and double finger guns before grabbing some clothes off the floor.

"I'll be in the living room, holler if you need anything," Eddie said, turning to go.

"Hey Eddie?" Steve called after him before he got too far out the door.

"Hm?"

"Thanks, again, for letting me crash here."

"No problem," Eddie shrugged. 

"Yeah, but still." For a moment, Eddie almost reconsidered sleeping on the couch. Despite how exhausted he looked, Steve was adorable. Like a kitten falling asleep sitting up or something.

"Good night, Stevie," Eddie smiled, only rolling his eyes a little bit.

"G'night, Eds."

Eddie bit his tongue and nodded, turning to leave for real this time and closing the door behind him. The nickname and Steve's sleepy smile were all he could think about as he killed all the lights and flopped down on the couch in the living room. He took his jewelry off and set it all in a pile on the coffee table, but didn't bother changing into the clothes he'd grabbed, just stretched out on the couch and tried not to think too much about the man in his bedroom.

Steve, on the other hand, did change clothes, because god help him he could not sleep in jeans. He plugged his phone in and hit the lights and crawled into Eddie's bed and, likewise, tried not to think too much about the fact that he was in Eddie's bed. It was an impossible task. In the quiet trailer as Steve drifted off, all he could focus on was how close and still so far away Eddie was, like he was holding Steve at arm’s length on purpose, and Steve didn’t know why.

--------

i know ur all excited for the nye party after that reveal lol i appreciate ur patience. this should be up on ao3 soon

tagging: @original-cypher @avacrebs @dangdirtydemons @rainydays35 @changenamelater @phantypurple @alienace @renaissan-vvitch @krazyperson @steddiereid @kittsu-makes-glass @i-must-potato @jaywhohasthegay @henderdads @mightbeasleep @straight4joekeery @sharingisntkaren @micheledawn1975 @thehumblefigtree @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @potentialheartofdarkness @dreammetheworld08 @steveisabicon @biatcgh @alittlegreyfish @r0binscript @estrellami-1 @shitnshit

[macgyvertape]

Glass Onion thoughts (major spoilers)

Seriously spoilers for the whole thing since I saw it in theaters

First Knives Out was really dated to Trump’s presidency with the anti-immigration and anti-Hispanic rhetoric. This one is really dated to Covid lockdown, and I wonder how many years until the references like Zoom calls with pajama pants on and playing Among Us stop being so understandable.

I work in the STEM field, a lot of my social circle is nerds or work in it too so a lot of the irl techbro bullshit this movie was referencing was very recognizable. Like the one scene of Miles wearing a black turtleneck and talking about the “reality distortion field” I immediately recognized as Steve Jobs

Just like the first movie the cast of suspects are all awful in various sterotypical archetype ways, but Birdie Jay throwing a huge party with her “pod” and wearing a mesh mask has me hating her on a personal level.

Movie nerd friend mentioned they built elaborate light boxes in the back of the set to make the glass reflections look correct on camera. Rian Johnson really does flex he’s a good director. One thing that stood out to me was how the camera pans around the island as great scene to scene transitions so you get a sense of how the house is laid out.

Also when all the lights go out it’s great use of lighting, that it’s actually pitch black at first, but there’s enough lighting to see details when everyone starts running around, and the strobe of the light house illuminating characters around corners is :chefskiss:

The way the tension built right before Duke died where everything feels discordant, I figured someone was about to die but wasn’t expecting it to be Duke.

The difference between seeing this in a theater vs at home where you can rewind; I wasn’t watching closely what Miles’ hand was doing with his glass, it’s such a brief thing that seeing it play out differently as Miles describes it adds to the viewers confusion and is a lot more compelling than Miles just saying it.

In the following moments after Duke’s death I’m not thinking to track Duke’s phone and gun until much later. It’s cleverly done, before Dukes murder you and the characters are watching Birdie Jay spin, afterwards you’re watching Duke die.

A good who dunnit has the audience clueless in different ways than the characters and plays with their expecations, and Rian Johnson with the reframed the plot during the flashback by giving context the audience lacked but also literally by just changing the camera angle on a few scenes.

The framing leading into the flashback is really good you see Blanc cry which establishes this is someone who he cares deeply about, encouraging the audience who likes Blanc to become emotionally invested. So most of the flashback you’re growing to like Helen more and more all while creating the tension because you know she gets shot.

I read Hugh Grant’s character as partner/husband especially with how Benoit Blanc dressesed, my straight friend didn’t but nice to see there is confirmation Blanc is gay.

Benoit Blanc is the archetypical detective who is a force for moral good and fully aware of the failings of the law and justice system which really helps him be so likeable. It’s interesting how he doesn’t lie about how he got the box he just let Miles make his own assumptions and be mislead. The same way his references to the first movie where he was paid by a mysterious party to show up are a red herring to the audience.

I was wondering why Andi was so stand off and awkward but the twist it’s her twin sister she’s impersonating, it immediately made more sense. She’s avoiding speaking to everyone who could call her out.

Whiskey in the flashback was a reversal of audience expectations through more context, she’s not really cheating on Duke, she’s not the “dumb blonde” she markets herself as. However despite her saying it was shitty how the group treated Andi she refused to tell the truth against Miles at the end because it would cost her brand.

It’s a shame the Mona Lisa burned because it’s such a culturally significant piece of art. But that’s the whole point, it’s a thematic statement of property isn’t worth more than peoples lives, and it burned because the social contact of justice fell apart. The Mona Lisa is there because some tech bro wanted it for his ego, then someone in the French government was willing to sell it out, and the tech bro’s ego couldn’t handle not being able to disable the protections. It burned because the justice system wouldn’t believe the word of a black woman over a rich white man when the evidence is circumstantial and the witnesses will commit perjury for money. Only when it becomes clear how much the Mona Lisa having burned is going to ruin. Lies’ Braun and give cause for a general investigation do any of the other disrupters even speak up.

The other disrupters were happy to join in smashing a few pieces of art but they still refused to back Helen and tried to stop her burning Miles’ house and the Mona Lisa, it felt like a reference at “performative activism”. Ties nicely to the disruptor speech at the beginning “you have to keep going until you break the thing they don’t want you to break”.

I later realize Andi was forced out of the company and later murdered over covering up how unsafe that fuel was, in burning the painting and destroying his company Helen also saved lives from the contractedcrystal fuel power plant.

I know the throat spray is just a “plot device” so not everyone is wearing masks but knowing how much of a fraud Miles Bron is, I’m sure it doesn’t do jack-shit

Side note: having the song be Mona Lisa by Nat King Cole with the lyrics “Mona Lisa” was perfectly on the nose

The fact Helen lives makes this more of an enjoyable watch than the first one where there’s the collateral death of Fran

The timing on humor is so well done through the whole movie, especially with brick jokes like “non smoking area”, and the stoner who kept saying “just ignore me”, which I would do because he was just out of the way most of the time.

All of Blanc’s outfits were great, I wanna dress like a gay older southern gentleman. I also really liked Birdie Jay’s multicolor dress, I don’t think I’m tall enough to pull it off though. I’d enjoy seeing a fashion breakdown for all the characters.

I would have liked to see more screen time of Peg but understandably in a large cast someone gets the short straw.

I thought I heard the Fugue music from the puzzle box in a few other places, I really want to see an essay on that