#I could have fit more in there too I have more

[writersdrug]

Someone sent an anonymous ask about Soap being all whiny and jealous, complaining to Simon about how lucky he is to have such a pretty, curvy girl and Tumblr swallowed it 😫 (This is gonna be a 2 parter)

Warnings: nsfw, threesome, sub soap and reader, dom ghost, training, voyeurism

But I can imagine Ghost would be so sick and tired of it. Johnny's constantly yapping like the mutt he truly is: "Yer a lucky man, LT. Findin' a pretty bird like that." "Where'd ye get her? Need to find one for myself." "She as soft as she sounds?"

Ghost wants to snap at him for talking about you like that - he shouldn't be talking about you at all. But he knows the poor man is just lonely, aching to have something soft and supple like you. Your smiling face smushed between Ghost's fingers when you come to drop off the lunch he forgot. The jeans that fit snuggly around your ass and thighs, the shirt that hugs the swell of your breasts, stretched thin as it barely contains them... poor Johnny boy can't help but whine at the sight of something so appetizing, so soft and warm right there - he's jealous of his LT. How did someone so hard around the edges pluck something so sweet?

Simon hates to see him so upset, pouting in the corner like a scolded puppy as you stare at your boyfriend with stars in your eyes. Johnny could have a girl, but he gets overeager: fucking them on the first date, leaving them sore and bitten and tearful. He's too rough, and they're quick to excuse themselves, fleeing the next morning and blocking him from all social media.

Johnny needs to learn to be patient and gentle with his toys. He's nice enough to let the sergeant practice with his own pretty girl, and you're more than happy to assist Soap with his green-eyed monster.

After a nice dinner at his LT's house, served by you - along with some bronze, liquid courage - Johnny sits on the recliner, chatting with Ghost, who's relaxed on the sofa. You enter the living room and stand next to Simon, biting your lip excitedly and staring between the two of them. Simon wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you to sit on the arm of the sofa.

"Y' think she's pretty?" He asks Johnny, who blinks.

Gorgeous. Comely. Ravishing. "Course I do." He responds plainly, trying not to get worked up over the way you're perched next to his LT so prettily.

"Yea, you do..." Simon mutters, squeezing the flesh at your thigh. "What's it you said? 'She must look nice, spillin' out my hands’?"

Soap is nothing short of mortified. His eyes are wide, staring back at Simon - he doesn't know what to say. He said those things within the secrecy of his conversation with his lieutenant - he didn't expect him to repeat it outside of that bubble, let alone in front of you, the person in question.

"N' what else was it? 'Need t' have a pretty li'l wife with a rack like that to lay my head-"

"Simon!!"

Soap finally glares at his LT, his fingers digging into his own thighs. His heart is pounding in his chest. Is Ghost trying to get you to hate him?

You giggle and stand upright. "It's ok, Johnny." You coo, slowly walking over to him with your hands behind your back. "I like it. It means you like me."

Soap has little time to do anything but grunt when you swing a leg over his thighs and seat yourself in his lap. Your cleavage is right there, just inches from his face, and he can feel the bare skin of your thighs burning through his trousers.

"Help me take this off?" You tug at the skirt of your dress, looking down at him with those innocent, glossy eyes.

He can't breathe. His clothes are too hot and too tight, his cock nearly choking in the confines of his pants. He looks to his lieutenant for help - Ghost just smiles, like he's watching his favorite porn. He might be, depending on how this plays out.

"Go on, Johnny. Slowly."

Johnny wants to be anything but slow, once he realizes his best friend is showing you off like a collectible toy. He looks back up at you, watching the way your plump lip catches between your teeth. He carefully reaches around, grabbing the back of your neckline and tugging the zipper down - slowly, as he was instructed. He can barely focus on the movement with your breasts right there, imagining what they'd taste like between his warm lips. The shoulders of your dress fall away, revealing the lacy bra you're wearing. He looks up at you, drool pooling under his tongue as you slide your hands over his shoulders, one coming around to play with the base of his mohawk.

"You can take it off." You whisper.

He wastes no time, his hands smoothing up your back and unclasping your bra in one motion. He helps you pull it from your shoulders - your breasts, round and full, now pressing against his chest. He wants to touch. He needs to touch.

He shoots a hungry, pleading look to Ghost - he nods back at Soap, which is all the sergeant needs to absolve his filthy behavior. He closes your breast in his palm, eyes hazy as he takes your nipple into his warm mouth. He hardly has to move his head forward because you lean into his mouth, your fingers grasping at his hair and your back arching deliciously. Johnny groans, using one hand to dig his fingers into the thick flesh at your hips, and his other to press his palm against your lower back. He shifts himself down as his tongue swirls around your nipple, groans leaving his throat and reverberating against the bud, quickly hardening from his ministrations. You sound so sweet, high-pitched coos and soft breaths pouring from between your lips as you press your weight against Soap, shoving your breast as far into his mouth as he can take. You kiss the crown of his head, whispering a good boy against his skin.

He practically whines, bucking his hips upwards, relishing in how your body grounds him into the sofa cushions. He releases your breast with a pop and quickly takes the other one into his hand, sealing his lips over it with a hum. He looks up at you through wanting, begging eyes as you toss your head back, squeezing your thighs around his hips. His tongue undulates against your stiffening peak, slobbering around the underside of your breast as he gives you another experimental jerk of his hips. You gasp, rolling your hips back down onto him and staring at him with your lust-blown pupils.

His cock is demanding to be let free. He's going to fuck you hard, he's going to pound you into the chair until you're begging, showing his LT just how much of a good boy he is. He's never felt this blazing forest fire within his veins, setting off nerve after nerve and burning a trail right down to his hard, throbbing member.

He hooks his fingers into the hem of your soaked panties, fully intending to rip them off - but you quickly grab his wrist and yank his hand away. He looks at you, blinking through his trance as a look of confusion settles on his face. "Wha's wrong?"

You giggle his expression - the sound goes straight to his tip with another rush of blood. "These are for Simon." you whisper, slowly pushing yourself off of Soap's lap. He lets his arms fall to his sides with a desperate look, letting you back away, right into Ghost's waiting lap.

"Gonna show ya a thing or two, Johnny." he says, pulling you back to his chest. "Teach ya a few tricks, maybe you'll be able t' keep a woman longer than a day." he pulls a switchblade from his pocket and flicks it open. The blade drags down over your belly - you chew your lip as it electrifies your skin, the tip sliding lower and lower until he's running it over your pussy. The fabric is soaked as he lingers there, the sharp edge barely separated from your cunt by your flimsy, drenched panties.

You stare at Soap, not once breaking eye contact as Ghost slices through the fabric. Soap's mouth is agape in disbelief and lust, enamored by the sight before him. He can't tear his eyes from the view of your sopping, glistening pussy, watching as Simon slides his thick fingers over your folds. He catches his thumb under the hood of your clit and you jolt, shooting a hand down to grab his wrist - but he doesn't stop. You whine and mewl, leaning your head back against his shoulder as he flicks the bud, strumming over it slowly.

He stares Soap in the eyes, watching his reaction. "Alright there, Johnny?"

He's drooling, mouth hung open, hypnotized by the way your muscles clench with each stroke of Simon’s thumb. “… Aye…” he manages to say – his fingers dig into the cushions beneath him as he tries to control the urge to tear across the room and drive his cock into your cunt, fucking you against his lieutenant’s chest the way you deserve: rough and hard. Simon’s been teasing you too long; you need to be ravaged, orgasm after orgasm pulled from you, faster than you can think.

“Let me have a go, yea?” he says boldly, looking at Simon with desperation. “That’s what this is, right? Ye want me to fuck ‘er nice? I’ll do it. I’ll do it, sir – I’ll take good care of her-“

“No you won’t.” Simon interjects before the dog can get too riled up. His fingers are now strumming up and through your folds, and you’re panting and staring at Johnny with needy desire. “’S why you can’t keep anyone. You’re too eager.”

The truth shoots through Soap’s chest like an arrow, and he meets Simon’s gaze. He’s obviously rock-hard in his trousers, he won’t even attempt to hide it. Simon’s got a cocky, knowing smirk on his face, and you… poor you is just wishing Simon would spit out what he wants to say, so the three of you could get on with the show.

“Gonna teach you a few secrets, sergeant.” Simon says, and Soap isn’t sure what to think about having his rank used in this situation. “My girl needs to cum.” He pulls his fingers away from you – you whine in frustration, but are quickly silenced when two, thick digits are stuffed into your mouth. You obediently clean off your own slick with your tongue, looking back down at Johnny with a heavy, lidded stare.

“I’ll make her cum.” Soap says quickly. If this is a matter of whether or not he can make someone cum, he’ll pass that test easily.

“You’ll do it right.” Simon growls. “Need to understand the difference between getting’ your cock wet and pleasuring ‘er. ‘S my girl ‘n I won’t have you roughhousing ‘er. Got it?”

Soap’s throat bobs as he swallows. It was another task, another order from his superior. He clears his mind of any preprogrammed, lustful thoughts, sent straight to his brain from his achingly hard member – this wasn’t about him. It was about following instructions. He was a good soldier, he could do that much.

“Yes sir.”

Simon nods. He shifts hips, pulling his fingers from your lipsand grabbing your hips. You grab his forearms for support as he spreads his muscular thigs, forcing your legs farther apart as they rest on either side of his knees. Slick dribbles down from your pussy and onto Simon’s length, which is about to tear a hole through his pants.

“Then get to it. Sick of hearin’ you yap all day about not bein’ able to keep a girl. Put your mouth to good use – we’re about to fix that.”

[luveline]

hi hii jade! Was wondering if you could do something sweet and fluffy w poly!marauders where reader wakes up in a very cozy and giggly mood 🤭 just some warm domestic love hehe

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

Someone is kissing his waist. Sirius squirms in his dozing, not expecting it as those kisses travel up his naked chest. Your laugh is breathy and soft as you kiss his shoulder, your weight strewn across his side and arm, your hand finding his cheek. 

Your fingers feel inhuman in the best way, like an angel. They spread across his face and neck as you hold him in place and kiss the skin where his neck meets his shoulder. “I love you…” you whisper, the ‘you’ turning long and slow like honey slipping down his front. “I wish you didn’t sleep so much.” 

You kiss him again, and with that you’re out of bed. Out of the room before Sirius has time to gather his wits, but he does gather them, because he needs more of whatever that was. 

What sort of sweetheart kisses somebody with such gentleness thinking they won’t remember? To press affection into him with want of nothing in return. He doesn’t even bother getting dressed, just scrubs at his sleep-swollen face and fishes the crusties from his eyes as he descends the stairs, numb-legged. 

James is grabbing you by the hips, helping you up onto the counter. His curls bounce at the back of his neck. “What’s gotten into you?” he asks. 

“Love, for sure.” 

“I can see that. Eggs? Omelette?” 

“Jamie, you can make anything. Actually, let me make you something–”

James pushes you further onto the top. “That’s okay, I’m cooking. I want to cook.” 

Sirius isn’t insecure, exactly. He feels he’s quite handsome when he attempts to be, and he knows you like him whether he’s trying or not, but he doesn’t know if you want to be interrupted, either of you, and it’s his private agony to wonder what to do. Then you spot him over James’ shoulder and your eyes practically sparkle. 

“Siri…” you sing-song, melodic as he crosses the kitchen linoleum to be with you and James. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.” 

Sirius touches James’ elbow with love but swoops in on you. “Did you wake me?” he asks, kissing your cheek, his arms working behind you to hold you as his lips travel downward. He isn’t half as sweet as you were, too busy trying to squeeze your torso against his and mould you into a perfect fit against him and under his arm to really think about what he’s doing. 

“She did it to me, too.” 

Sirius pulls your face into his neck and turns to James with a grin. “And Remus?” 

“He was already awake. But she kissed him and did that thing where her eyes somehow look bigger and shiny and he had to go for a walk.” 

“He didn’t have to go for a walk,” you mumble from Sirius’ neck. “He always walks on Saturday mornings. He’s just getting some herbs from the greenhouse.” 

The back door opens on cue. Remus reappears with an aura about him much like yours, dropping the cut herbs on the cutting board, and stopping just shy of everyone to smile. “Did she do it to you, as well?” he asks. 

James squeezes Remus’ face in his hand, a quick thank you for the herbs that has the latter turning pink. 

“She waylaid me with kisses like a common whore.” 

“Sirius,” James says scornfully. 

“Me being the whore,” Sirius says. You laugh into his neck, seemingly with no inclination to leave the circle of his arms. “Will I ever see your face again?” he asks. 

“It’s cozy here. I wish we’d stayed in bed.” 

“We can go back.” 

“After breakfast,” James says, popping an egg on the edge of the frying pan, breaking the shell one handed as he gives the sizzling oil a shake. 

Remus not so subtly crosses the last of the space to slot himself between your right thigh and the counter. Sirius has the urge to cup his cheek as James had done —Remus has an extremely holdable face— but is distracted by your nose nuzzling the line of his throat. 

“I love you,” you say. 

Doesn’t matter who you’re talking to. All three boys melt. 

“I’d like to do some really weird things to you,” Sirius says. 

“Me too,” James agrees. “But we do need breakfast first.” 

“No one is doing anything weird to me, it’s the weekend.” You beam as Remus laughs, seemingly your intention. 

Sirius backs away to a polite but still close proximity. He isn’t selfish; being in a ‘strange’ relationship like this one is a lot of reading cues, and a lot of just plain old climbing into people's laps when you want them, because nobody can truly read minds. Yet Sirius can see that you’re in the sort of mood where everything you touch turns to gold and all the boys want a piece of you, and who is he to get in the way of that? 

Well, he’s your boyfriend. He takes a kiss before he delegates himself to being herb-chopper, stealing glances of you from the corner of his eye. 

You tease a strand of Remus’ hair behind his ear. 

“Weird stuff is for weekdays only,” you’re murmuring. “What I want today is the real romantic stuff.” 

“Then you can have it,” Remus murmurs back. 

Sirius will happily be doing very romantic things to both of you after his omelette. James, too, if he’s so inclined. 

[thaatdigitaldiary]

whatever you want

paige bueckers x fem reader

fluff & flirtation per usual

you were never one to be spoiled growing up, having to wait to buy things simply cause you couldn’t afford it, that was until your girlfriend came along, who can’t help but spoil the SHIT outta you.

enjoy babes 🙂‍↕️

growing up, you never really bought things for yourself, you bought things for school, things to eat, necessities. you were brought up to buy things you needed, wants weren't important. sure, you bought things for yourself, but you couldn't help the mentality you had, it was all you were use to. obviously you couldn't get away with getting nothing you wanted when you were around your college athlete of a girlfriend, who wanted to spoil you rotten.

you and paige started dating around two years ago, you transferred to uconn from your previous college, wanting more academic opportunities that weren't provided at your old school. you were new around, and paige saw that, and immediately befriended you. it started from friends, to seeing each other every other day to everyday, and paige popped the question, and finally asked you on a date.

she took you to a fancy restaurant, you tried your best to dress fancy, not expecting such an extravagant place, considering your past dates never went this hard for you. everything on the menu was so expensive, and you didn't plan on spending too much money tonight, so you ordered something small.

"yeah i'll have the small plate of alfredo, if that's okay." you ask the server, and he nods as a response.

"you sure you want the small, you told me you haven't eaten all day?" she asks you with genuine concern, hoping you would want more since you didn't eat anything until tonight.

"paige, these menu items are pricey for me, i'm sorry. i just paid rent and bills have been tight-"

"who said anything about you paying?" she raises her eyebrow at you, laughing and asking the server to get you the normal portion of what you ordered, instead of the small.

"shit, don't even know why you brought money with you honestly, you know i got you ma." she says, looking at you and smirking.

"i just didn't wanna assume p, i didn't know you'd go this hard for me. i'm not used to fancy environments, if you get what i'm saying." you express to her, kind of sad in a way, as you two are in totally different worlds financially.

"hey, one thing about us is when it comes to anything you want, I'M gonna buy it, and you can't stop me." she tells you, looking intently in your eyes, wanting to buy the world for you if she could.

your eyes soften at paige's words, knowing this was something to get use to, you weren't mad at it. maybe it was good to have something nice every now and then.

after this date, everything between you and paige go exceptionally well. you're learning that your girlfriend really doesn't give up on spoiling you, more and more nil money coming through, disregarding your say and buying things for you anyways. gifts, jewelry, and the most over the top "just because" presents from her; and don't get her started on the holidays.

when you lovebirds finally hit your two year anniversary, paige was eager to get you out of your shared apartment. asking you to run errands for her, even though you planned on doing so already. little did you know, her and the team were setting up something special for you. you wanted to get something special for her, saving your money to get you and her matching sparkling silver necklaces, her's being a thicker chain and yours thinner and dainty, each having your names on them, you'd wear the one with paiges' name, and she wore yours. you bought a cute gift bag for them, but that wasn't your only stop. you stopped by crumbl and bought cookies for her, the nike store to purchase new basketball shoes for her, as well as buying her a bouquet of flowers, wrapped in purple paper.

but that wasn't it.

you had been searching the internet for a promise ring. one that fit paige's personality and vibe, and found the perfect one. a beautiful silver band, with the words "i love you" engraved in the inside. it was perfect. "i can spoil my girlfriend sometimes too", you thought to yourself.

a good 3 hours pass by the time you got home, hands full of gifts for her to open, stacked so high in your hands you could barely see the door. you set them down to grab your keys, then you slowly pick everything back up. the lights are off, weirdly enough, since you could've sworn you left them on before paige asked you to "run errands".

you set everything on the table near the front door, going to turn the light on, when suddenly everyone pops out of their hiding places yelling "surprise!" making you jump suddenly, then immediately bursting into laughter, tears slowly forming when you realized the set up in front of you. there were balloons stating "happy anniversary" plastered on the wall, the whole house decorated in beautiful colors, and multiple gift baskets sitting on the coffee table.

"happy anniversary ma." paige says to you sweetly, tearing up herself and kissing you, then quickly holding you close.

"p, i can't believe you did all this for me," you say in between giggles and tears.

"oh this is nothing, open them gifts for me ma." she tells you, handing you one of the smaller ones first, being a pandora bag. you take the pink paper out of the bag, and see three boxes. inside is a bracelet, already decked out in charms, as well as two other boxes. in these boxes were seperate charms, saying things like "i love you" and "always and forever" engraved in the silver accessories. she helps you put it on, your arm clinking from the sound of the charms hitting one another.

"okay this one you'll love. and don't ask me how much it was, thank you very much." she says sassily, and you can't help but smile and rolling your eyes, knowing that as many times as you've asked how much things cost, she wouldn't tell you. you slowly unwrap the box, seeing the words "van cleef" printed on the front.

"no you didn't." you say sternly.

"but i did baby." she says shrugging her shoulders and laughing.

inside was an all silver van cleef chain bracelet, the clovers reflecting under the light, giving your wrist an extra shine. you look at paige softly, the look of pure love in your eyes, wondering how you got so lucky with someone like her. fuck the money, you wanted to be in paige's life forever, regardless of how much she had.

after you put your bracelet on, you hug her tightly, then walk towards the gifts you bought her earlier. the first thing you hand her are the beautiful hand picked flowers, she blushes at the thought of you buying them for her, and kisses you on the cheek. you set the crumbl cookies on the table, and pass her the nike box.

"oh shit y/n! you remembered i wanted these?" referring to the conversation you two had a couple days ago, as she rambled about basketball and some new basketball shoes she wanted.

"i remember everything baby, and you're not done, there's a couple more things," you say while grabbing the bag the necklaces came in, as well as the box with her promise ring inside.

she takes the necklaces out of the bag, and tilts her head with a smile so hard, it makes her eyes close.

"finna be repping you all day everyday huh ma?" she says flirtatiously, and you respond by smirking back at her.

"i know that's right," you say reciprocating her energy, something she loved about you.

she puts hers on, and assists you with yours since you just got your nails done, and can't seem to manage with them at the moment.

"wait baby, there was one more thing, it's inna room, i'll be right back." she tells you, walking away into your bedroom.

she comes back out excited, and she shares a suggestion,

"why don't we exchange them at the same time nd open em together?" she asks, and you agree.

she hands you the box, and you do the same. and on the count of 3 you open at the same time.

"three.."

"two..."

"one... open"

you both gasp and look at each other quickly, realizing you bought the same gift for each other, but different in it's own way. the ring you bought paige was the same as yours, just a band to fit her style more. yours had a beautiful teardrop diamond, with the same words "i love you" engraved in the inside.

"wow ma, you know me real well huh?" she says while putting her ring on, whistling at the fresh silver, almost able to see her reflection. you put yours on, the diamond sparkling anytime you slightly moved your hand.

paige looks at you, and you look at paige.

"happy anniversary mama."

"happy anniversary baby." you say, still so shook that she did all this for you.

"i been told you, it's whatever you want ma, i always got you."

————————————————————————————-

HELLO TO THE BAD BITCHESSSS, i know this isn’t a part two of open your eyes but that is inna works (and almost done) so i wanted to give you something while you waited! thank you guys for the support you bring and i love you dearly 🙂‍↕️(for p’s necklace think of the new “5 chain” she got that she wore to the seattle game if that helps 🤭)

tags: @rosemariiaa @bueckerscore @mrsarnold @patscorner @wbbgetsmewetter @juspeaks @ohbueckers 🫶🏽

[verdenz]

BLIND, DEAF, MUTE

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒⠀→⠀You're McLaren's reserve driver, and the social media team forced you, Lando and Oscar to do a challenge.

𝐀/𝐍⠀→⠀I'm a little surprised that I liked the result of this oneshot, since I'm not very good with very long content (this one isn't that big bUT STILL—)

“You should introduce yourselves, shouldn’t you?” was the first sentence spoken in the recording, coming from one of the team members.

You and Oscar just looked at each other before turning back to face Norris, who was on the other side of the counter, already wearing headphones and dancing quietly.

“Lando should be the mute one.” Oscar said, cutting a piece of tape that was handed to him and sticking it over his mouth.

“Agree.” you replied, trying to find the best way to tie the blindfold. “It saves the effort of those who will have to censor his jokes.”

“You can start.” they said, and as expected, Lando had to be pulled by Piastri to fit into the camera frame, as he didn’t hear what was said.

The confusion began when you, unable to see, started feeling around, knocking over a wooden spoon in the process. “Why are you all silent? I have no idea what’s going on!”

Oscar just made a muffled sound, forgetting for a second about the tape that prevented him from speaking. Realizing it had already started, Lando "gently" pushed you both aside, standing in the center and starting to show the ingredients.

“We’re going to make cookies because they don’t believe we can make something more complex!” he shouted, making you flinch at the sound, while your teammate just shook his head in denial.

Norris picked up a sealed package, reading aloud. “Do we start with this?” Lando asked. He saw Oscar raise a finger and try to reach for the bag of flour, but he smiled and threw it into your hands, resulting in part of the floor and your clothes turning white. “She has to do something too.”

Oscar took the package from your hands and placed it on the counter. He tried to explain with his hands that he wanted to see the recipe, but you couldn’t see, and Lando couldn’t understand what his teammate wanted. “Paper?”

He shook his head. “Stir the mixture?”

“What mixture, Lando? We haven’t even started yet,” you complained, as if he could hear you. “We should look at the recipe and start.” Then, you heard a sound of approval from Piastri.

After brief instructions from the team, you felt around the counter and picked up a package of sugar, believing you had the right ingredient, and started pouring a large amount into the bowl. Piastri, who couldn’t speak but could definitely see the disaster unfolding, gestured frantically, pointing to the bowl and trying to stop you.

Lando, who was closest to you, took the ingredient from your hands. “This is sugar!” he yelled in your ear, making you try to grab his hair to playfully pull but hitting his nose instead. He laughed and stepped back. “We need to melt the butter.” Norris said, this time in a normal tone but too close for your liking.

“I can hear you without you breathing in my ear.” you complained, trying to find the next ingredients. Oscar held your hand and handed you the pot with the melted butter, since while you and Norris were bickering, he was following the recipe.

“You need to add an egg.” You looked at Lando again.

“Whole?” He blinked, trying to understand what you were saying.

“One egg,” he repeated.

“Whole?!” You nodded, as confused as he was, and gestured with your hands.

“Yes, it’s one.” Oscar’s laughter was muffled by the tape again. He picked up the egg, showing it to Norris. “Break it and put it in the bowl.”

“Whole or not?! Oscar!” You waved your hands, trying to find him to help you, not knowing he was already doing so. He tried to speak.

The team gestured for you to stop, as for the next part of the recipe, they preferred you to switch positions. Piastri was the first to remove the tape and breathe a sigh of relief.

Finally, you took off the blindfold to see how well you were doing up to that point. When you opened your eyes, the scene you found was utter chaos: Lando laughing, Oscar with his arms crossed, and a counter with more flour and sugar than what was inside the container you were supposed to be using.

“Can we take a break?” you asked, already grabbing the headphones for yourself. “Who chose this playlist? Damn.”

The team signaled the start again, and before you could even take a deep breath, Lando was already messing with everything he saw in front of him. Unable to speak, he pointed frantically to different jars and ingredients, trying to guide you.

“This? This here?” you asked, randomly lifting a package of flour. Lando shook his head desperately, making exaggerated hand gestures to indicate what he meant.

Oscar, now blind, had no idea what he was supposed to do. “Shouldn’t we mix the dough?”

“You need to knead the cookies and put them on the tray.” you said, lightly pulling up the sleeves of your sweatshirt that threatened to cover your forearm again. Terrible choice of clothing for that type of activity.

Lando tried to speak, getting agitated once more. You looked at him, he pointed to the bag of chocolate chips, and you nodded, grabbing the package and pouring it into the dough.

Oscar put his hand on your wrist. “Wait, I think it should be less. Right? I can hear you pouring the whole package. We should use a measuring cup—”

“What is he saying?” you asked Norris, who only shrugged.

After a few more minutes and a bit more mess, you managed to get the cookies into the oven, and it was finally time to be free.

“You know, each of you has to be blind, deaf, and mute at least once during the challenge." a team member joked, and the three of you immediately showed your discontent.

As soon as the cookies were ready, you placed them on a nice plate to show to the camera.

“Who will be the first to try?” Piastri asked, running his hand through his hair.

“We count to three, and each of us takes a bite.” And so you did, but only Lando managed to break the cookie. “Why is it so...”

Oscar stared at his, while you stretched out your arm and hit the table with yours, which only crumbled a bit.

“My expectations were low, and I’m still disappointed.” you murmured.

[reshinless]

Hi hi! Ive read some of ur work and literally salvating rn for kinich stuff GAUGH!

So im here to post in a request for gn (or fem) afab reader x Kinich

Basically kinks you think kinich would have and asking reader to let him indulge in those kinks of his <333 (pls let it end with reader being fucked outta their mind)

If ur not comfortable / not open for request feel free to ignore this!

Much love,

Kichi

──── take your shirt off!!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. honestly, he himself can't decide what he likes more.. fucking your hole more, or lapping up what he can from it!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. kinich x gn!afab!reader/fem!reader (i use a lot of fem terms here, so sorry :(

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. millionares <3333

in a sense, he didn't really have a favorite. i mean he liked whatever you did. he just observed while you both fucked and experimented to see what you liked the most.. but it seems like you don't really know yourself. you arch your back all the same, doesn't seem like you have a favorite either!

oh but in all honesty, you could say his kink was you. he never thought about making love with anyone else, and you're the only one he's ever thought of getting dumb on his dick. so much for that!

kinich is and has always been a straightforward man. if there's something he wants- he'll take it. and that attitude didn't change even in intimate times. in times where he thinks you're about to cream on his fingers, something tells him to slow the tempo of his fingers.

"m- mmf ffuck, kin i'm g'na-" or maybe he favored the sounds you made when he ate you out. entangling the taste of your cunt on his tongue to mix with his saliva, you could feel the grasp on your thighs tighten more. rolling his tongue into your folds, he could hear the way you'd whimper, and groan, pushing his head further into the junction of your thighs.

kinich loves giving nicknames, and having them. hearing you call him 'kin' on its own was already one of his biggest turn-ons. please keep calling him that!!

loving the way his tongue dipped into your sex, you could feel your body instinctively arching your back. you tried to close your legs, but he just as easily pried them back open again, his gloved palm kept your inner thighs squished against his face.

"ahhn- kin' don' stop pleasef.." you felt yourself shriek to the man in between your legs. maybe he liked it better when you begged him to overstimulate your hole while he licked your clit.

your hands were buried in the messy locks of his hair. chasing your high as you felt it pool in your stomach, building up faster than you expect.

you arch your back against his digits, letting it curl against your velvety walls. huh, you looked so pretty like that. a little too pretty for his own liking. wonder what caused the tent in his pants..

flopping you onto your chest against the mattress, he blindfolds you with his headband from earlier, rough palms scatter to the opposite sides of your hips, bringing it up to his shaft.

you could only imagine from the feeling, his tip pressing against your folds. pushing himself faster than usual nights, it felt like he was ramming into you.

oh it was that necklace he bought you with his initial on it. you could even see it from behind, his chest presses against yours as he leans down to fit his head in the crook of your neck just to watch it bounce on your chest.

gosh you were so adorable like this, your eyebrows forever furrowed as he plunged it deep inside you. "npmh- kin- ahhn- wan' haah- more!"

kinich who gladly obliges, each time he penetrates you, he makes sure to really grind into your cunt. make sure you feel everything you want to. he just wants you to feel good; his orgasm is a bonus!

it could be the cute little look you gave him, pleading with your eyes as he took off the blindfold away from your view. now instead- tying your hands together, and gently flipping you over onto your back- putting you in some kind of.. mating press?!

he pinned your tied hands above your head, merciless thrusts, even deeper penetration from earlier. damn how big was it really?! it almost felt like you were getting impaled with the way he hit your g-spot so well.

kinich who loved to make eye contact with you during moments like this. even if you can't keep up the consistency; he knows he can, as long as he gets to observe such a pretty face. getting soo corrupted from his cock <33

"that's right baby, moan as much as you want.. tell the neighbors how much you love this cock inside you." he cooed into your ear, only hurrying his thrusts inside you. before you can feel it, you've already creamed onto his base. making it all the more easier for kinich to penetrate you better!

kinich loves to praise! loves praising how well you take his dick, cuz he knows how big it really is. and seeing your hole swallow it hole in one go? if that isn't deserving of his words of acknowledgement, what is?

he grunted through his words, working through each thrust surprisingly rough. continuously switches paces unconsciously, accidently goes really fast then slow to grind into your precious spot. "s'good.. taking me like royalty.." praise whispered from a low raspy voice from your lover's throat exits as he leans in to get a better angle of your pretty face.

"ah.. uh.. ffuck.. s'tight.. this pussy's mine right?" you felt yourself cumming again, squirting. to kinich though; this was his own sign to continue till he came (asked you for consent first cuz this is all for you anyway.)

"f- fuuuckk g'na cum inside you, sweetheart- ahh sshit..!!"

kinich loves getting to know the fact that you're his, and he's yours. he'll say it as many times as you want; his cock was for your pleasure!

but kinich's aftercare game is insanely good, not something you'd expect if this was a hookup- but it wasn't. he made sure you were okay afterwards, asking you if you ever felt uncomfortable throughout any of it.

let him know if you didn't like some of the stuff he did; this was your first time with him after all, and only the best should come if ever after you'll make love again (which will most likely happen.)

he'll clean you up himself, and make sure you're well rested for the next day. will not accept any argument, will cuddle with you all night- hugging you from behind, and scattering plentiful of kisses every now and then on your shoulders.

[userchai]

𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝓉𝑜𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒 - 18+

𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘹 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵…. 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨.

word-count 2.2K

thank you so much for reading feedback is appreciated I love you all dearly! sorry if there are any mistakes! 🖤

“If you love me right then who knows?”

You knew this was a terrible idea, letting him back in, but when he had shown up at your door, shivering and crying you just couldn’t say no. The soft morning glow of the sun illuminates his face beautifully as you stand at your bedroom door.

His eyelashes flutter as he turns a little in his sleep, the long black curls you’ve always loved are wild and messy. “What are you doing to me Eddie?” You whisper, shaking your head and fighting back tears.

He came to you because he didn’t know where else to go, having moved away from Hawkins years ago. It was hours away and you were only fifteen minutes down the road, so Eddie did what he knew best, he came back to you.

This isn’t the first time he’s shown back up since the two of you split years ago, but for some reason in this moment the air feels different. He looks so peaceful in your bed, he looks like he fits, like this is his home too.

You glance at the calendar above your bed, it’s Sunday. You have nowhere to be but right here with the man that you’re still so in love with, it’s painful.

You slowly make your way over to your bed, gently setting yourself down on it, not wanting to wake him yet. The fight the two of you had gotten into last night when he just showed up was still fresh in your mind.

“You can’t just come right back Eddie! You always do this!” You had screamed, tears streaming down your face as you leaned back against your front door.

The night ended differently than you would’ve expected, Eddie had kissed you, and he didn’t stop kissing. You both knew this would only lead to more hurt down the road but neither of you cared.

You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts that you don’t hear Eddie wake up until his hand gently brushes your arm. “Hey.. you okay baby?” He whispers. ‘Baby’ you wanted to tell him that’s not who you were to him anymore, but you couldn’t.

“I’m alright. Did you sleep okay?” You ask, brushing a piece of his hair away from his face. He nods slowly, sitting up. You both stare at each other for a minute, Eddie’s eyes are puffy with sleep and it only makes him look even more attractive.

You smile timidly, damn him for making you feel every single feeling you’ve been working so hard on pushing down for years. “Good, I was gonna make something to eat if you’re hungry?” You ask, going to stand up before Eddie’s grabbing your hand, pulling you back down.

His dark eyes may as well be looking right through you as he keeps you in place. He’s very obvious, you’ve seen that look a million times before, the only thing Eddie is hungry for at the moment is you.

“Ed, I don’t think that’s such a good idea-” you start off, chewing your lip nervously as he pulls you closer to where he’s leaning back against your headboard. “If anything, let me have you for just one more night, I understand if you want me to leave forever after that. I just need to feel you one more time.”

Your heart is pounding beneath your chest, you knew this wouldn’t be the last time, you knew you wanted him. You needed him. Your body reacts before your mind can make up words to say back to him, you straddle yourself over his lap and gently reach down to hold his face. “I’ve never stopped loving you Eddie Munson.” You whisper.

The prettiest smile breaks out over those pouty lips that you could kiss for hours, “Show me then.” He says back, it’s a challenge. You bite back a laugh at how desperately Eddie’s clinging to you right now. His big hands are gripping onto your hips, you hope they bruise you want to remember this forever.

Eddie can be soft sometimes, even if he doesn’t look like it, and this is definitely one of those times. You could break him, and he would let you. You wanted to wreck him and rebuild him after. He groans lowly beneath you as you slowly circle your hips, grinding down against his lap for just a few seconds before stopping.

“Please don’t stop, I need to feel you.” He almost whimpers out, so pathetic, how much he needs you. You lean down slowly and kiss up the side of his neck, biting down against his jaw hard enough that it draws out a little blood. You wanted pain, you wanted him to feel everything that you’ve felt, you wanted him to know that if he fucks up this time he will never see you again.

“Fuck. You little vixen.” He bites out as you run your hands down his shoulders, you keep them going as you shuffle back off of his lap. “Gonna ruin you, is that what you came here for?” You ask as he bites his lip. He nods quickly, watching you pull your sheets back away from his body. “Oh, how cute baby, look how hard you’ve gotten and all I did was sit in your lap for a minute, admit it, you need me.”

You pull the covers all the way off of him, shuffling down to lay on your stomach in front of him as you run your hand teasingly against his length that’s straining behind his tight boxers. “I-fuck, I need you, I love you, I’m sorry for being such an idiot and leaving before please, even if you don’t want me anymore just use me today, that’s all I want.”

You smile up at him, that’s exactly the answer you wanted. If he thinks he can just come back and instantly win you over he is sorely mistaken, he’s going to work for it. You dig your nails into his skin a little as a hiss breaks its way out of his mouth, before you’re pulling his boxers down. You must be going far too slow for his liking because you swear you hear him start begging as his cock finally slaps back against his stomach.

You’ve missed him so bad, and you’ve missed feeling him inside of you almost more than the relationship you once had shared. Your mouth waters at the sight of his thick length, the head is leaking pre-cum against his stomach as you tap your fingers lazily against his thighs. “Why should I suck you off baby? I don’t know if you deserve my mouth anymore.” He moans loudly, pushing his hands against his eyes before he’s grabbing the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him.

You laugh quietly, he’s so hard it must be hurting by now. “Fuck…. Please I know I don’t deserve it okay? I don’t, but just, please I’ll be so good I’ll do anything to have you again baby.” You lick your lips slowly, before you’re spitting down onto the head. “Fine, but it’s at my pace, don’t you fucking move.” You can hear the air leave his lungs as you slowly wrap one of your hands tightly against him, stroking him slowly and spreading your saliva all over him.

You know just how he likes it, sloppy and loud, you are determined to make sure he remembers this, if today really is the last time. Focusing back on him you lean down and kiss up the side of his cock before you’re at the very top, you flutter your eyelashes up at him as his stomach tenses. He’s so beautiful, you sink your mouth down around him and the most beautiful sound comes out of his throat. Sure, Eddie is a good singer, but the sounds he makes for you have always been better than music.

It only takes a few more minutes of absolutely setting out to ruin Eddie, before his hips are threatening to lift off the bed. You know he wants to fuck your mouth, but you specifically told him not to move, so you pull off of him and slap his thigh. “I thought I said no moving, don’t you wanna be my good boy?” He looks like he’s on the verge of tears as he frantically apologizes, reaching to grip onto you. You can feel him shaking as you sit back up onto your knees.

“Don’t deserve my mouth anymore, you can’t even listen to instructions baby, but I’ll let you have my pussy. The only thing is, you’re not cumming.” Your stomach is already wound tight at the thought of having him inside you again, you waste no time in pulling your panties off and throwing them down onto the floor. Eddie looks like an absolute wreck already, his hair stuck to his face, eyes blown full of lust and love as he looks up at you. “Please just fuck me.” He whispers.

Reaching behind yourself to grab his cock again you rub the tip against yourself over and over, you can feel it pulsing against your hand. You knew how bad he needed to cum but for now things were going to be about you. You tense up as you slowly slide yourself down onto him, he’s so thick it almost hurts. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He gasps out, his hands gripping the sheets below you as you finally bottom out around him.

You wait a few minutes to adjust before you are lifting yourself back up, the drag of his cock inside of you is addicting and you don’t know if you’ll even last very long. You drop back down again, moaning loudly as every nerve in your body feels like it’s on fire. “Fuck, I’ve missed you baby, please, want you to fill me up when I say you can, need to feel you leaking back out of me for days Eddie.” His hands are all over your body, pulling, gripping, never wanting to let go. The both of you are breathing into each other’s mouths, crying out in pleasure and love.

It’s like nothing had ever happened, you wanted this for life, and you know at this moment he wants it too. He’s barely holding himself together as you bounce on his lap like some sort of angelic nymph. He can’t decide whether he wants to sing filthy praises or spill his heart out about how much he loves you as his cock rubs against that spot in you that sends both of you into a frenzy. “That’s it, fuck Eddie please, oh my god, cum now baby, fill me up, give me all of your love and let me feel it.”

‘Bad idea!’ Your mind was screaming, but your heart and body didn’t care, all the nasty thoughts of how much you hated what he did to you were slowly being stripped away from you. Eddie doesn’t know a lot, but right now he knows he is never letting go of you again. He stops holding back as you tense down around him again, leaning your forehead against his as he runs his hands down your back, gripping onto your ass. The neighbors must be getting a good show with how loud you both are.

You can feel him break beneath you, his body trembling as ‘I love you’ spills out of his lips over and over, your own orgasm washes over you quickly when Eddie bites down on your collar bone, sucking a bruise right into your soft skin. The both of you cling to each other as your highs slowly come down, you feel like you could nap forever with how spent your body is.

Another quiet moan slips past your lips as Eddie lifts you off of him slowly, you can feel his cum leaking out of you and down onto your thighs. “What a beautiful mess you are.” He whispers, leaning over to kiss you on your forehead as tears well up in your eyes. “Eddie?” You ask quietly, your throat hurts from how loud you’d been only moments ago. He doesn’t reply right away, instead he reaches for his Metallica shirt that’s on the floor, slowly pulling it down over your head and helping you put your arms through.

It smells like heaven, it smells like everything you’ve missed. “Yes baby?” He asks. “Please, don’t hurt me again. Don’t let me go.” You feel a tear slip down your cheek before it’s quickly being wiped away by his calloused fingers. “You’re never leaving my sight again, I was such an idiot when we were younger, but I want you, I want us forever.” He leans his forehead against yours as you both sit there in silence, maybe you could work again. Who knows?

The rest of the morning is softer, after you both had a moment to catch your breath Eddie had helped you into a bath, getting in behind you to rub your sore muscles as you laughed quietly while sharing things you’d missed out on since you’d last seen each other. This was easy, it was familiar, it was love. You couldn’t fight back smiling as you watched him standing at your oven, flipping a pancake over in a frying pan and almost dropping it onto the floor.

You knew opening the door for him was potentially opening your heart up to be broken again, but for Eddie you would risk everything, even your heart.

tag list 🏷️

@loserboysandlithium @gri959 @eddies-esposa @undeadmfs @perfectlymellowthing @multi-culti-girl @iamnotoverlyfondofwhatfollo-blog @catherinnn @ainelantv @quinnyficsy @ali-r3n @edsbug @hippiegoth97 @thepurplelovewitch @munson-mjstan @ironictechtonicplatonic @xplrnowornever @hellfiremunsonn @mmunson86 @cremeve @ohburrryoureabsolutelyridiculous @munsongirly @jamdoughnutmagician @raratasome @alivinggirl @honey-flustered @ho-for-joequinn-fics @eddiemunsonfuxks @melodymunson @usersallyskellington @dickchomper @cryingglightningg @xsinfullxlover666 @myspacebrat @taintandviolent @eddiesghxst @josephquinnsfreckles @vecslut @tlclick73 @woahlifehitsyahuh @rose1518

[kisakis-boyfriend]

🎃 nsfw headcanons for fyodor, nikolai, and sigma (+dazai and chuuya if you’d like) with a werewolf s/o?

Author's Note: I'll do Dazai and Chuuya in a separate post, thanks to tag limitations 😔

Pairings: Fyodor, Nikolai, Sigma x male reader (separately)

Warnings: Male werewolf!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!characters, mentions of breeding, knotting, biting, scratching, leashing, mindbreak (Fyodor), virginity kink (Sigma)

Fyodor

The 'fake dom' Slut

Fyodor likes to pretend that he's in control, but really, who's he fooling?

Trying to control a semi-feral beast. Yeah, good luck, buddy

You'll allow our favorite skinny Russian to put you on a leash, but it's only because you know that he can't hold onto it while you're railing the brains out of him

Fyodor is literally folded in half in a mating press, drooling like a whore. And you're loving every second of it

He definitely keeps track of the moon cycles — clearing his schedule on full moons and coming up with an excuse to be around you those nights

If your human form is also bigger/taller/more muscular than him; Fyodor will swoon

Not that he wouldn't swoon anyways, no matter what your human form looks like. He's just possibly got a little size kink 🤐

Nikolai

The Overt Slut

Nikolai is so not subtle…

"Oh my, what sharp teeth you have. You could totally bite me and make me bleed haha :)"

"Such sharp claws… it would be a shame if you accidentally scratched me with them!"

"What a big, thick cock! I could never take one that big… unless? 👀"

He'll sit next to you, knowing that you can see his phone screen, and look at werewolf knotting porn 😐

I mean, literally. NOT subtle in the least

Nikolai loves when you take control and breed all of his little holes

Just manhandle him and cover him in your seed please. You'll have a very happy jester in your possession

Personally, I think Niko has higher than average stamina; so he'd be able to go quite a few rounds, even after you knot him. If you want to keep rutting into him, he's all the happier ☺️

Sigma

The Shy Slut

“I am not taking that! You'll never fit!”

30 minutes later, Sigma is crying as you pound the virginity out of him

Sigma acts like he doesn't enjoy being filled and having some rough sex, but it's just his insecurities, really

If you make him feel loved, he will eventually agree to certain things :)

Always screaming "I can't take it!" Or "it won't fit" but, again, none of that is true

Sigma easily becomes your moaning slut once your dick is fully sheathed within his gummy walls

Full moons make him nervous — he, conveniently, hangs out with you on those dates though…

Sitting in your lap as the sun sets, cupping your face and requesting kisses too

In a rare, confident display, your pretty boy will ask you to fuck him in your werewolf form all on his own

Still complains about his sore ass and the scratches covering his body tomorrow though 😶‍🌫️

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Back To Work | Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader | Drabble - 800 words

Retirement, a new house, a romantic evening planned, Bucky just knew that life was all going too well . Especially when he starts being hounded to return to his superhero life.

Warnings: language, fluff, a little angsty at the end. Featuring domestic thunderbolts Bucky.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

“Bucky, are you ready to go baby?” Your voice carried through from the living room as he clicked his arm back into place, shrugging his shoulder to get the fit right. 

You'd been excited all day, buzzing around the new house and opening boxes, trying to unpack at the same time as finding the perfect outfit. Bucky was only half regretting making plans so soon after moving, sure it was stressful trying to dig out his nice shoes from the piles of boxes and bags, but seeing you so happy was completely worth it and knowing you’d be coming home to your house, together, was just the icing on the cake. 

Now the sun was setting and you had turned on the downlighters in the kitchen, void of your usual clutter it looked lonely. 

“Just checking my phone, Doll.” He called back picking the offending item up from the counter - so many missed messages, he sighed.

 He'd been better recently, replying to Sam and catching up with him every week or so. He'd even managed to facetime Steve in his retirement home. He quite enjoyed the easy freedom of digital communication. But today, of all days, it had been pinging non-stop all driving him crazy during the drive and ruining the relaxing and, he hoped, romantic atmosphere he was trying to create. 

“Come on, baby, I don't want to be late.” You strolled into the kitchen and he dropped the phone again to focus his attention on you instead, taking in your dress and heels, your lipstick perfectly done. How could he worry about a stupid phone when you were together. 

“C’mere,” he pulled you close, tucking you under his chin and planting a kiss to the top of your head. 

He smelt lovely, fresh from the shower but with the hint of cut wood from building furniture. His vest revealed the hint of his dog tags, outlined under the fabric, as well as his tanned skin from a summer well spent outside, your traced your fingers over the chain and up his neck. Tangling your fingers in his long hair you tugged him down for a kiss. 

“Love you, Buck.” You whispered against his lips, heat surging through you just at his presence. 

“Love you too.” His lips tickled your cheek, behind your ear, and then he was swinging you up onto the counter. 

“Don't make us late!” 

“If you don't like it, stop giggling.” His fingers tickled up your bare legs, eyes twinkling with desire. 

Ping 

“That fucking phone,” Bucky growled, grabbing it again. More messages, more missed calls. 

“You should see what they want,” wrapping your arms and legs around him as you tugged Bucky closer, every line and curve fitting against him perfectly. He was sun warmed and cuddly, still ridiculously strong, but the hard lines and plains had softened since his retirement and you couldn’t get enough. 

“Fine, for you, then we're going to go and have a nice dinner and I'm leaving this stupid thing here.” He grumbled, chin on top of your head. 

You giggled again, leaving kisses on his chest. Bucky was so attached to that thing you didn't believe it for a second. Until his breathing went funny, heartbeat speeding up beneath your cheek. 

“What is it?”

His eyes had lost their sparkle, looking sad and serious. 

“I might have to rearrange dinner.” 

“What? Why?” You couldn’t see the phone, but his eyes raced across whatever he’d been sent.

“Where did we pack the gear?”

“The what? Oh - uh,it's in the trunk, in the garage but -” 

Bucky slid away, eyes glazed, focussed, intent and you were suddenly so cold without his presence.Your heart sank listening to the movement in the garage on the other side of the wall. 

He emerged ten minutes later, his smart trousers and vest discarded in favour of leather, the dirty t-shirt he'd been wearing while you were unpacking was back and he’d at least grabbed his soft leather jacket for protection. 

You threw yourself into his arms, tears springing to your eyes. “Are you needed?” 

“I think so,” his voice was low, sinking into the headspace required to take on whatever danger was lurking. 

“Come back to me in one piece, okay?” Your voice cracked, arms squeezing him impossibly tight.

“Of course, doll.” He looked at you then, tears welling in his own eyes, his lips so soft against your own. 

“You're my hero, you know that? You don't have to do anything else?” 

He nodded, letting you slide back to the floor, heels clicking on the tile in a sad reminder of your ruined evening. 

“I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you, lock the door behind me, okay? Don’t let anyone, anyone, in.” 

It was your turn to nod, you knew the protocols, the rules that reassured him. 

His bike roared to life, then he was gone, and you were alone in the echo of your home. 

[mononijikayu]

puddin’ pop — kamo choso.

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!

WARNING/S: fluff, romance, opposites attract, female! reader, not safe for work (nsfw), r-18, smut, body praise, kissing, rough sex, p-i-v sex, pet names (puddin' pop, sweetie and others....), societal prejudice, love, overflowing cuteness, slice of life, humor, light-hearted, being in love, romantic gestures, healthy relationship, tender affection, sexual intercourse, aftercare, boyfriend – girlfriend relationship, depictions of sexual acts, depiction of body praise and care, depiction of naked bodies, mention of sexual innuendo, mention of alcoholic consumption, mention of sexual intercourse, metal head bf! choso, pastel girlie! gf reader, pastel girlie gf! loves her metal head bf! choso so much, everyone if you're looking for love, make sure its as stinking cute and loving as this one, its what everyone deserves!!!;

WORD COUNT: 7.8k words.

NOTE: this entire thing was inspired by this art made by the lovely ushy on twitter!!! i was just dazzled and in love with the possibilities of who metal head bf choso could be like. i was enthralled. so, a lot of credit goes to ushy for creating such spectacular art that inspires me and others well!!! please check out ushy's art and support them too!!! anyway, this is the first time choso won the polls so im happy!!! i hope you all enjoy this!!! i love you all <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

YOU LIKE THE FACT THAT YOU BOTH WERE DIFFERENT. Because it compliments you both so well, almost like yin and yang. At least that’s what Choso likes to say. And you agree with him. Choso and you couldn't be more different on the surface.

You were the pastel princess of the campus, always draped in floral skirts, baby pink cardigans, and bows in your hair. Everywhere you went, you seemed to bring a little sunshine and joy, something that stood out against the often drab college environment. People on campus often teased you, calling you a "walking cotton candy" or a "flower fairy."

Your boyfriend Choso, on the other hand, was a looming presence. Tall and muscular, his arms were covered in dark tattoos of skulls, serpents, and symbols no one dared to ask the meaning of. He wore black band shirts—Slayer being a favorite—ripped jeans, and chunky boots. His piercings glinted under the sun, and his eyeliner gave him a perpetual brooding look. Kamo Choso was the guy you didn’t approach unless you had to.

And because of this, people always wondered how you two could possibly be together. You couldn’t have been anymore from different worlds, galaxies entirely. Whispers never failed to follow you both wherever you went on campus, speculating that you must be too sweet for him or that he was just putting on an act. No one could see how you fit until today. And if you were being honest, you could care less about their invalid opinions.

Today was Choso’s concert with his metal band, and you hadn’t seen each other all day due to classes. And you can tell that it was already getting to you. It was fine to text him and all, but you like having your boyfriend around. You like holding him and kissing his cheeks. And he was warm. And it was getting colder. As you stood chatting with some friends outside the student union, the heads started to turn.

“Is that Choso?” one of your friends whispered, wide-eyed.

You turned, and there he was, his black combat boots stomping across the quad toward you. Your face flushed, your eyes bright eyed. Your lips peaked into a smile. But you noticed the look on his face and you couldn’t help but blink.

His face was still set in that familiar grimace that made people nervous, but you could tell immediately something was different. His hands were hidden behind his back, and his eyes flicked to the ground every few steps, like he was nervous.

“Hey, sweetie.” Choso said, his voice a soft contrast to his intimidating appearance. You could feel people watching you both, but Choso didn’t seem to notice. He reached behind him and pulled out a black band T-shirt—one with a matching Slayer skull logo to the one he was wearing.

“Uh, I was wondering if you... y’know, wanted to match tonight?” he asked, his face flushing red under the tattoos. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, as if he wasn’t the lead guitarist of one of the loudest, most intense bands on campus. He was just your beloved boyfriend Choso, looking like a shy boy asking for a favor.

There was a moment of stunned silence from the people around you. You could feel their confusion, the gears in their heads turning as they tried to reconcile the image of the “scary goth guy” with the one standing before you, blushing and fumbling over his words.

You giggled, clicking heels as you stepped closer and took the shirt from him. “Of course, babe! I’d love to match with you tonight.” You leaned up to kiss his cheek, making his blush deepen as a soft, content smile spread across his face. “I’m thankful you thought of me at all, babe. Thank you so much.”

“I always think of you a lot, sweetie.” He says to you in reply, which only made you swoon even more as you let your body embrace his own as you squealed about how much you loved him. And he smiled, as though the world was the most beautiful place.

That was when everyone seemed to get it. They saw the way Kamo Choso looked at you like you were the most precious thing in his world, how gentle he was with you despite his intimidating exterior. They realized that underneath all the black clothes, makeup, and tattoos, he was a gentle giant—soft, sweet, and completely devoted.

The campus finally understood why you worked. And yet all at once in the same breath, still not understand it at all. But you could hardly care.

As you slipped into the matching shirt, a wave of excitement ran through you. The black Slayer logo against your usual pastel aesthetic was jarring, but you loved the idea of supporting Choso in his world. Even if metal concerts weren’t your usual scene, being there for him made it all worth it.

You walked hand in hand toward the venue where his band would be performing later that evening. You enjoyed having his fingers intertwined with yours and his skin rubbing against you. You looked at him and grinned, which he returned. You both just enjoyed each other’s company, no matter what. Well, that’s what happens when you’re each other’s world.

Onlookers still stared, trying to wrap their heads around how the “campus goth king” and the “girly sunshine queen” made sense together. It wasn’t long before one of your friends caught up with you, curiosity bubbling over.

“Okay, I have to ask. How does this even work?” she asked, her eyes bouncing between Choso’s heavy chains and your flower-printed purse. “You guys are, like, total opposites.”

Choso chuckled softly, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand. You smiled up at your beloved boyfriend, feeling the warmth in his gaze before answering. You didn’t even want to stop looking at him. Your boyfriend was the prettiest, loveliest boy you ever laid eyes on. And everytime you looked at him, you just fell more deeply in love. 

“Well, it’s pretty simple, really.” you started, glancing at him for confirmation. He nodded for you to continue. “We balance each other. He’s got this tough look and I’m more on the bright and bubbly side, but it’s what’s inside that really matters.”

Choso squeezed your hand and added, “She brings me a lot of peace. People think I’m all dark and broody, but if there was any color in me, its my sweetie, here. She’s the one who helps me stay grounded. And honestly, I don’t think I’d ever smile this much without her.” His eyes softened as he spoke, showing a rare vulnerability. “I just….love my sweetie, you know?”

Your friend’s expression shifted from confusion to understanding, the pieces falling into place. “That’s actually... really sweet.” she admitted, looking at Choso with a bit less intimidation and a lot more curiosity. “I guess it’s just surprising because you both seem so different on the outside.”

You laughed, nudging Choso playfully. “Well, I’ve always believed it’s what’s on the inside that counts, right?”

Choso smiled shyly, looking a little embarrassed but happy. “Yeah, and we love each other. Doesn’t matter if we’re all black or pastels. We’re happy together. That’s it.”

By now, more people around you were starting to take notice, seeing the softer side of Choso they’d probably never expected. It became clear to everyone that your differences weren’t a problem—they were the reason you worked so well together. You could be the sunshine in his life, and he could be the calm, steady presence in yours.

As you approached the venue together, You could see that Choso’s bandmates were setting up the stage. They were all dressed in their usual dark, edgy attire, but they greeted you with warmth and fondness. It’s been like this for as long as you remember. They’re really the nicest people you know. And you’re happy because it means your boyfriend will always be surrounded with good people. And because of that, you would be too.

“Looking good in that shirt!” one of the band members teased, smirking at Choso as if to say, You really got her to match you, huh?

Choso grinned sheepishly, clearly proud but trying to play it cool. “Yeah, well, she’s supporting us tonight. Best girlfriend ever, right?”

You giggled and nodded, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Only for you, my baby.”

Before the show started, you found your place in the crowd. It was always the same one. Choso alway insisted that you always be near him as possible to not only make sure he knows you were safe — but so he can always see you and wink at you. And then you would blow back a kiss each and every time. It’s your boyfriend’s favorite part of the show.

You take a sip of your drink. People smiled at you and greeted you. You were a regular at the shows already. But it was always surreal being surrounded by people dressed in all black, while you, with your pastel skirt peeking out from under the band shirt, stood out like a daisy in a field of midnight roses. And all of them were happy to see you there too. Choso’s shows were always such a happy, safe space for you. 

But as the music started, something magical happened.

The moment the first riff tore through the air, it was as though Kamo Choso transformed before your eyes. His quiet, reserved demeanor melted away, replaced by an electrifying energy that radiated from the stage. The powerful riffs and heavy beats pulsed through the venue, reverberating in your chest, and you could feel the intensity of every chord he struck. His hands, the same ones that were always so soft and tender when they held you, moved with precision and power across the strings, commanding the music with effortless grace.

Despite the raw energy of the performance, there was something oddly calming about watching him like this. Seeing him completely in his element, doing what he loved with such passion, brought you a quiet sense of pride.

Every note, every beat, seemed to echo the essence of who he was—fierce, strong, but also thoughtful and deeply connected to his art. And in that moment, it became clear just how much of himself he poured into his music. You could tell that the stage was where he felt most free, and watching him there made your heart swell.

As the concert progressed, the crowd was fully immersed in the music, their energy feeding off Choso’s commanding presence. But every now and then, amidst the chaos, his eyes would seek you out.

Between songs, during brief moments of stillness, he'd glance over in your direction, his gaze softening when he found you in the crowd. It was his silent way of making sure you were okay, that you were enjoying the show, and it warmed your heart to know that even in the middle of performing, he was still thinking of you.

And then, you noticed the shift in the crowd.

People started glancing between the two of you—first at Choso, then at you, as if they were piecing together something they hadn’t quite understood before. They saw the way he’d search for you with his eyes, the subtle smile that would tug at his lips when he spotted you. They saw how your face lit up, your cheers louder than anyone else's, a beacon of support and pride for him to latch onto. 

It was as if, in that moment, the connection between the two of you was undeniable. The bond you shared became as visible as the music that surrounded you, a harmony of its own. Choso’s fans, who had admired him for his talent and stage presence, were now witnessing a softer side of him—a side that belonged solely to you. The glances from the crowd turned from curiosity to understanding, like they finally saw the deeper layers of the person who held their admiration.

And as the music swelled and the concert reached its climax, you could feel it too: the unspoken love that bridged the gap between the stage and the audience, a love that was yours and his, seen in every stolen glance, heard in every note. In that moment, it was as if the whole room was in tune with the rhythm of your connection, an energy that transcended the music itself.

When the final song came to an end, Kamo Choso walked over to the edge of the stage, still holding his guitar, and mouthed, “I love you.” 

Your heart swelled as you mouthed it back, your cheeks hurting from smiling so much. You just love him so much, and it made you the happiest person alive.

After the show, a few students from campus came up to you both, clearly still surprised but now more accepting of your relationship. One girl, who you recognized from your sociology class, shyly approached you.

“You two are actually kind of... adorable together, you know?” she admitted. “I didn’t get it at first, but seeing you both... it makes sense now.”

You smiled, giving her a nod of appreciation. “Thanks. We may seem like opposites, but we’re perfect for each other.”

As you and Choso headed home later that night, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in how you’d shown everyone that love doesn’t have to look a certain way. It doesn’t matter if you’re a pastel-wearing girly girl or a tattooed metalhead. Love is about finding someone who understands you, who balances you, and who makes your life better just by being in it.

And that’s exactly what you and Choso had—something perfectly imperfect, something that made sense in all the ways that really mattered.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

AFTER CLASSES SEPARATED YOU BOTH, YOU FINALLY CAME TOGETHER. You haven’t seen Choso since he got stuck for his violin recitals, so you were bored. It’s not like you weren’t doing anything in fashion classes, but you wanted to see him.

He was your energy boost. Just as much, he was your happy pill. And with a deadlock with your project, you needed to see him to freshen up. So, he finally had free time, he told you he’d come see you.

That’s also how you and Choso decided to go on a date, something simple yet special—just the two of you wandering through the city, hand in hand, without a care in the world. You were dressed in your usual soft pastels, a baby blue sundress fluttering around your legs as you walked, while Choso, in stark contrast, wore his typical all-black outfit. His band tee hung loosely over his broad frame, and his boots clunked with each step beside you.

As you entered the small café, people couldn’t help but glance in your direction, eyes widening at the sight of the unexpected pair. You were the picture of sweetness, like something out of a fairytale, while Choso looked like he just stepped off the stage of a rock concert. The two of you couldn’t be more different visually, yet anyone who took a closer look could see the way your fingers intertwined so naturally, how Choso’s eyes softened every time you spoke.

You found a cozy corner booth, and as you sat down, Choso immediately slid into the seat beside you rather than across from you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, and you smiled up at him, already feeling the warmth of his presence.

“What do you want, puddin’ pop?” you asked sweetly, your voice loud enough to catch the attention of the café staff nearby. The barista paused mid-order, eyes darting toward Choso, as if unsure she heard you right.

Choso, the ever-serious and brooding figure, glanced down at you with a soft chuckle, his fingers tracing light circles on your arm. “Whatever you’re getting is fine, babe.” he murmured, his tough exterior melting away completely in your presence.

The barista, clearly stunned by the interaction, couldn’t hold back her curiosity when she came to take your order. “You two… are so cute together!” she said, hesitantly at first. “I mean, I never would’ve guessed, but… it works!”

You laughed, used to the surprise reactions by now. “Thank you! Yeah, we get that a lot.”

The barista smiled, her nerves relaxing as she took your order. As she left, you turned back to Choso, your grin wide and playful. “See? Even she thinks you’re sweet, puddin’ pop.”

Choso rolled his eyes good-naturedly, though the faint blush on his cheeks betrayed how much he loved the nickname. “You and that nickname…” he muttered, but the smile tugging at his lips told you he didn’t mind one bit.

“Well, you are my puddin’ pop, aren’t you?” you teased, leaning into his side. “You’re like pudding—soft and sweet—and a lollipop, ‘cause you’re a treat.”

Choso groaned playfully, covering his face with his free hand as if embarrassed, but the warmth in his voice gave him away. “You’re gonna make me lose all my street cred, you know that?”

You giggled, giving him a peck on the cheek. “You’ll always be the cool goth guy to everyone else, but you’re my sweet puddin’ pop.”

As the two of you enjoyed your time together, sipping on drinks and sharing pastries, people in the café couldn’t stop sneaking glances. They saw the stark differences in your appearance but couldn’t deny the undeniable connection between you.

Choso’s tough exterior was all but gone when he was with you, replaced with soft smiles and gentle touches. To them, it was unexpected, but to you, it was perfectly normal. Choso, for all his darkness and edge, was the sweetest person you’d ever met, and he showed it in every little way.

But that didn’t bother you. You and your beloved boyfriend continued to talk about things that interest the two of you. Recently, he told you about his progress in some violin concertos and you told him about your progress on your final project for the design class you were in. The world was an echo when your Choso was talking, after all.

As you left the café hand in hand, Choso gave you a loving glance. “You know I’d do anything for you, right?” he asked, his voice quieter now, like it was just meant for your ears.

You smiled up at him, heart fluttering. “I know. And that’s why you’ll always be my puddin’ pop.”

And as the two of you strolled through the city, the sight of the goth guy and the pastel princess, people couldn’t help but admire how well you fit together. You were a perfect, unexpected match—proof that love doesn’t have to look a certain way.

As you and Choso wandered through the city, you could feel the occasional glances from passersby, but by now, you were so used to it that you didn’t even pay them any mind. Choso, however, always kept his guard up just a little, glancing sideways at anyone who looked too long. Not out of annoyance, but more out of protectiveness. Even though he was soft with you, he still liked to make sure no one thought they could mess with his sunshine.

You led him into a little boutique that had caught your eye, one filled with pastel-colored dresses, accessories, and things that practically screamed “you.” As soon as you walked in, you heard a small group of girls gasp near the entrance. You caught a snippet of their whispered conversation:

“Oh my God, is that him? The goth guy from campus?”  

“Wait, that’s his girlfriend? I didn’t know they were actually dating. They’re so... different!”  

“But look how cute they are together!”

You giggled softly, squeezing Choso’s hand as he rolled his eyes, his face slightly red from the attention. He wasn’t much for the spotlight when it came to your relationship, but it was hard to avoid it when everyone seemed so fascinated by the contrast between you two.

As you browsed through the racks, you couldn’t help but pull out a pastel pink sweater with tiny hearts embroidered on it. “This is so cute!” you exclaimed, holding it up for Choso to see.

He gave it a look, raising an eyebrow. “It’s… definitely you, sweetie.” he said with a smirk, though his tone was affectionate.

“Of course it is! What do you think, puddin’ pop? Would you wear it if I bought a matching one for us?”

Choso let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, no. I’ll stick with my black, sweetie. Thank you though."

You pouted playfully, nudging him. “Come on, just once? For me?”

Choso softened, and you could see the internal battle playing out on his face. You knew he’d do anything to make you happy, even if it meant stepping way out of his comfort zone. “Alright, fine sweetie.” he relented, sighing dramatically. “But only because you’re cute.”

Your eyes lit up, and you threw your arms around him in a quick hug. “You’re the best!”

The girl at the counter couldn’t stop staring as you and Choso approached to pay. She looked completely bewildered, like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. “I—I love your outfits….” she stammered, scanning the pastel sweater. “You two are really… um, adorable.”

Choso, clearly flustered, mumbled a quiet “Thanks!” while you beamed and responded. “Aren’t we? He’s my sweet puddin’ pop, after all.”

The cashier blinked in surprise, probably not expecting the goth guy who looked like he belonged in a metal band to be called something so cute. But as she handed you the bag, you caught the faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips. It was as if she’d just witnessed a secret that made perfect sense in some strange way.

After leaving the boutique, Choso let out a deep breath, clearly relieved to be out of the spotlight. “I can’t believe you convinced me to get a pink sweater.”

You giggled, taking his arm and leaning your head against it. “You’re gonna look so cute, though! I’ll take a picture of us together and keep it forever.”

Choso groaned, but there was a smile on his face as he shook his head. “Only for you. I swear, you’ve turned me into a complete softie, sweetie.”

You looked up at him, eyes sparkling. “But you’ve always been a softie. You’re just finally admitting it.”

He gave a soft, resigned laugh. “Yeah, yeah… whatever you say.”

The two of you continued your walk, eventually ending up at your favorite park. As you found a bench to sit on, the sun began to set, casting a golden glow across the trees and flowers. It was quiet and peaceful, and you felt Choso’s arm wrap around your shoulders again, pulling you close.

For a moment, everything was perfect. You didn’t care about the stares or the whispers or the way people seemed to be so fascinated by the two of you. All that mattered was how you felt when you were with him—like the world was a little brighter, a little softer.

You glanced up at him, resting your chin on his shoulder. “You know, no matter how many people are surprised by us, I still think we’re perfect together.”

Choso smiled down at you, his eyes filled with a warmth that only you got to see. “I know. I wouldn’t trade this for anything, sweetie.”

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, the two of you sat there in comfortable silence, content in your own little world where opposites didn’t just attract—they completed each other.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

YOU HAD FREE TIME, AND HE DID TOO. So, it was just right for him to come by and cuddle with you. It was a quiet evening when Kamo Choso walked into your apartment, his usual black boots clunking against the hardwood floor as he made his way to where you were curled up on the couch. You looked up from your book and smiled when you saw him, your pastel-colored socks contrasting with the dark, brooding aura he carried everywhere.

"Hey, puddin' pop." you greeted sweetly, holding your arms out for him.

Choso's lips twitched into a soft smile as he walked over to you, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. He settled beside you, his arm casually draping around your shoulders as you snuggled into his side. For a moment, the two of you just sat there in comfortable silence, but you could tell there was something on his mind.

He cleared his throat a little awkwardly, running his hand through his messy hair. “Hey… so, I, uh… I wrote a new song, sweetie.” he started, his deep voice a little unsure.

You sat up, instantly interested. “Really? That’s amazing! What’s it about?” 

His eyes darted away for a second, the usual confidence he exuded seeming to falter as his cheeks tinted pink. “Well… it’s about you.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, your heart doing a little flip at his words. “Me? You wrote a song about me?”

He nodded, clearly trying to play it cool, but you could see the faint blush creeping up his neck. “Yeah, I mean… I’ve been working on it for a while. It’s for the band. I wasn’t sure if you’d be into it, though, since, you know, you’re not really big on metal.”

Your heart practically melted at his bashful tone. Choso, the brooding goth guy who looked like he could crush someone with a glance, had written a song about you? It was like every romantic dream you never knew you had was suddenly real.

“Oh my gosh, puddin’ pop!” you squealed, your hands grabbing his arm in excitement. “I want to hear it! I don’t care if it’s metal, I’ll love it just because it’s from you!”

He chuckled, a little nervous but clearly pleased with your enthusiasm. “Are you sure? It’s kinda heavy, sweetie…”

You practically jumped up from the couch, tugging him along with you. “I’m sure! Come on, I need to hear this!”

Choso laughed as you dragged him to his guitar, which he had brought over for practice. He picked it up, settling it on his lap as you sat back down, eagerly waiting for him to start. The way your eyes sparkled made his heart swell with affection. He strummed a few notes, tuning the strings before looking at you with a small smile.

“Alright, sweetie….” he said softly, his voice gentle in contrast to the deep rumble of the guitar. “Just… keep an open mind, okay?”

You nodded eagerly, clasping your hands together as if you were about to witness the performance of a lifetime. Your eyes were shining brighter than ever before. Your face was focused on him, awestruck already. It’s as if you had decided that it was already the best song in the world (which to you, it was.)

Choso took a deep breath before he started playing, the guitar riff heavy and intense, but there was a surprising tenderness woven into the melody. It was raw, powerful, but there was an undercurrent of emotion that made your chest tighten. 

He began to sing, his voice low and gravelly, but the lyrics were… beautiful. They spoke of love, of safety, of someone who brought light into his dark world. Each word made your heart race faster as you realized just how deeply his love for you had inspired every note, every line.

Even though you weren’t as big into metal music as he was, you could feel the emotion behind each chord. It was him, pouring his heart into the music in a way only he could. You watched him, completely enraptured, as he sang about how you made him feel—how you were his bright spot, his calm amidst the storm.

When he finished, there was a brief silence, the air between you both charged with emotion. He glanced up at you, a little hesitant, waiting for your reaction. “So… what do you think, sweetie?” he asked quietly, his tough exterior cracking just a little as his vulnerability showed.

You didn’t even know how to put your feelings into words, so you did the only thing you could think of. You launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a tight hug. “Oh my sweet sweet puddin’ pop! That was beautiful! Oh my God, I can’t believe you wrote that for me! I love it, I love you!”

Choso’s arms wrapped around you instinctively, his deep chuckle vibrating through his chest as he held you close. “You really liked it? Even though it’s, you know… metal?”

You pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, your smile wide and full of love. “It doesn’t matter what genre it is! You put your heart into it, and I could feel it. It was perfect.”

Choso’s smile softened, and he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips, his hand cradling the back of your head. “I’m glad. I just… wanted you to know how much you mean to me. You’re everything, you know?”

You felt your heart swell, your love for him overflowing. “You’re everything to me too, puddin’ pop. I can’t believe you wrote me a song,” you gushed, still in awe of how deeply his love for you translated into everything he did.

Choso blushed again, clearly not used to being fawned over like this. “Well… you inspire me, sweetie.” he mumbled, his voice gruff but full of affection. “Always.”

You grinned, resting your head against his shoulder as he held you close. “I’ll always be your biggest fan, no matter what. Even if I’m not the biggest metalhead.”

He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your hair. “That’s all I need.”

You stayed wrapped in Choso's arms for a while, the warmth of the moment lingering between the two of you. His heart was still pounding against your cheek, and it was clear that even for someone as stoic as him, sharing the song with you had meant the world.

"I can't believe you were nervous about showing me that, hm?" you whispered, tracing little circles on his chest. "It was so beautiful. The way you turned your love into music... you’re amazing, puddin’ pop."

Choso let out a soft, almost bashful chuckle. “Yeah, well… it’s easier to play it in front of a crowd than just for you. I wanted it to be perfect, sweetie.”

Your heart melted at his honesty, and you squeezed him a little tighter. "It was perfect. And it just makes me love you more."

Choso smiled softly, the tough-guy act completely dropped as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. “Good.” he said quietly. “Because I’ll probably write a dozen more songs about you.”

You laughed, your cheeks flushed with warmth. "Promise?" you teased, raising an eyebrow playfully.

“Promise, sweetie.” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you again, slow and tender. 

There was something about Choso’s kisses that always made you feel like the world had stopped for just a second—like the two of you were the only ones who existed. And in moments like this, it didn’t matter if you didn’t share his love for metal music or if your pastel wardrobe clashed with his dark, edgy style.

When the kiss ended, you both settled back on the couch, with Choso resting his guitar against the wall. You nestled into his side, your fingers laced together. The silence between you was comfortable, but you could tell there was still something on his mind.

“I’m thinking about playing it at our next gig, sweetie.” he finally said, glancing down at you. “I’d want you there… if you’re up for it.”

Your eyes widened with excitement. “You want me there when you play it? Of course, I’d love to be there!”

Choso looked relieved by your enthusiasm, though there was still a hint of nervousness in his eyes. “It’ll be loud, though. Probably going to be louder than our last gig since it’s with other metal bands.”

You grinned, nudging him gently. “I’ll bring earplugs, don’t worry. But I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I want to be there when you play our song, you know?”

Choso’s gaze softened, and he squeezed your hand. “You don’t know how much that means to me, sweetie. It’ll be the first time I’ve played a song that personal.”

You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder. "Well, now it’s personal to me too. I’ll be there, cheering you on in my pastel outfit, and I’ll make sure everyone knows I’m the one you’re singing about."

He chuckled, imagining the sight of you in the crowd, all sweetness and sunshine, while his band rocked out on stage. “You’ll definitely stand out, sweetie.” he said with a teasing smirk.

“Good! I want everyone to know I’m your biggest fan, puddin’ pop!” you replied with a grin.

Choso kissed the top of your head, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of your hand. “You always have been.”

The rest of the night was spent in quiet contentment. You stayed wrapped up in each other, talking about his band, the upcoming concert, and the thought of hearing your song live for the first time. Choso shared little stories from his rehearsals, his voice full of excitement whenever he mentioned the moment he’d finally reveal the song to the audience—and to you.

“I’m already planning my outfit!” you joked, imagining what you’d wear to one of his gigs. “Something cute but not too out of place.”

Choso laughed, pulling you closer. “Wear whatever you want. I’ll be proud to have you there, no matter what.”

You looked up at him, your eyes full of love. “I’ll be there in the front row, cheering for you. And afterward, we’ll celebrate with a giant lollipop, since, you know, you’re my puddin’ pop.”

Choso groaned, his cheeks turning a faint shade of red, but the smile on his face didn’t fade. “You’re never gonna let that nickname go, are you?”

You giggled, shaking your head. “Never. It’s part of the deal.”

He rolled his eyes, but the fondness in his voice was undeniable. “I guess I can live with it… as long as you keep being my inspiration.”

And with that, the two of you fell into a peaceful silence again, your hearts full of love. As the night continued, you couldn’t help but think about how lucky you were. Choso might’ve been tough on the outside, but underneath all of that was the sweetest, most caring person you’d ever met. And now, knowing he’d written a song about you, you felt even closer to him than ever before.

No matter how different you seemed on the outside, Choso’s love for you translated into everything he did—from his quiet moments with you to the powerful music he created. It was all a reflection of the way he saw you, and it made you fall even deeper in love with your sweet, tough, and tender-hearted puddin’ pop.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

IT’S BEEN A WHILE FOR BOTH OF YOU SINCE ITS FINAL WEEK. Your metalhead boyfriend Choso finally arrives at your dorm, his presence immediately filling the room with warmth. He steps in close, his strong hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you gently but firmly against him. His breath is warm on your skin as he leans down, his lips softly grazing the sensitive area around your ear. 

"Want to do it, sweetie?" he murmurs, his voice husky, a teasing grin tugging at the corners of his lips because he knows your answer already. “I missed you….”

“I missed you too, puddin’ pop.” You whispered back, a sly smile on your lips. Your eyes lustfully gazing back at him. “So so so much….”

“Just how much, sweetie?”

“A lot.” You whispered as your fingers trailed onto your thighs and a little bit lower. Choso was already sure what he’d find down there. He knows you too well. His little sweetie. “Help me, puddin’ pop. I need you.”

As soon as you give him the slightest confirmation, he effortlessly scoops you up, cradling you in his arms like you weigh nothing. His lips never leave your skin as he walks you towards the bedroom, each kiss a little more insistent, a little more needy. Between the kisses, he leans in close to your ear, whispering the dirtiest, most wicked things, his words making your skin tingle.

As Choso carries you, his lips trail down your neck, leaving a path of heat with every kiss. His grip tightens slightly around your waist, the tension building with each step toward the bedroom. The way he whispers into your ear, voice low and raspy, sends shivers through your entire body. His words are teasing, laced with promises that make your mind race, each one more wicked than the last.

He lays you down gently on the bed, his body hovering over yours, eyes dark with desire as he drinks in the sight of you. His hands roam your body, slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment, every inch of your skin. His kisses grow deeper, his whispers more urgent, as his desire for you becomes undeniable. 

"You're mine tonight, sweetie." he breathes, his voice thick with lust.

You smiled. “I always was, puddin’ pop.”

Choso’s lips crash against yours, the intensity building as his hands explore your body with purpose, claiming every inch of you. His touch is firm yet careful, as though he’s memorizing the way you react to each kiss, each graze of his fingertips. His words, laced with that rough edge, never stop. 

“I’ve been thinking about this all day, sweetie.” he mutters between kisses, his breath hot against your skin as he trails his lips back down to your neck. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

He pins your wrists gently above your head, holding you in place, his eyes locking onto yours with a burning intensity. He leans down again, his lips brushing your ear as he growls softly, “I want to hear you say my name… over and over.”

His words send a rush of heat through your body as he lowers himself, every movement slow, teasing, deliberate, until the anticipation becomes almost unbearable. The room feels electric, the air between you charged with desire, as he continues to whisper the dirtiest, most enticing things.

Choso’s hands slide down your arms, his grip firm yet tender as he keeps you pinned beneath him. His breath is hot against your skin, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss before trailing back to your neck, down to your collarbone, teasing with every move. The way he takes his time with you, savoring each reaction, has you breathless.

"You're so perfect for me, sweetie." he whispers, his voice thick with lust and affection. "I love watching you like this."

His hands move lower, fingers tracing your sides, sending shivers down your spine as he leans in closer, his body pressing against yours. He kisses you deeply again, the kind of kiss that makes your head spin, before pulling back just enough to meet your eyes.

“I’m not stopping until you’re completely mine tonight, sweetie.” he growls softly, his words dripping with intensity. The way he says it sends a rush of anticipation through your entire body, making you ache for his touch even more. 

Without breaking eye contact, he lowers himself further, his kisses moving lower, trailing heat in their wake. Every touch, every word leaves you feeling completely consumed by him, the world around you fading away until it's just you and him, tangled together in this moment that feels both endless and electrifying.

Choso’s kisses become more intense, his pace deliberate yet teasing, as if he’s relishing the control he has over every inch of your body. His hands trace slow, burning paths along your skin, each touch igniting a fire inside you. He knows exactly how to make you melt beneath him, every movement calculated yet filled with raw passion. 

He leans back up, his eyes locking onto yours, dark with desire. "I love how you react to me, sweetie." he murmurs, voice dripping with a mix of dominance and affection. "The way your body responds... it drives me wild."

His fingers trail lightly across your chest before grabbing hold of your waist, pulling you even closer, his breath ragged with anticipation. His lips return to your ear, teeth gently grazing the sensitive skin as he whispers, "You're going to scream my name tonight."

The way he says it sends shockwaves through your body, the desire in his voice leaving you aching for more. His hands grip you tighter as he kisses you deeply, his passion consuming you entirely. Every whispered promise, every soft growl, every lingering touch leaves you yearning for more, completely lost in the moment, knowing he’s not letting up until you’re both completely spent.

"You’re mine, just mine." he growls, his voice low and possessive, making it clear that he’s going to fulfill every wicked promise he’s made tonight.

Choso’s lips crash against yours once more, each kiss more urgent and consuming, as if he’s claiming you entirely. His hands grip your hips firmly, guiding your body beneath his, the heat between you growing unbearable. The intensity in his eyes makes your breath catch, his gaze full of need, raw desire, and something deeper — a craving that goes beyond the physical.

He presses his body closer, his breath hot against your skin as he continues to whisper the dirtiest, most intimate words in your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine. “You don’t know how much I need you right now, god…..” he murmurs, his words laced with desperation and control.

His touch becomes rougher, more insistent, as he moves in rhythm with the tension building between you. Every kiss, every graze of his fingertips, pulls you deeper into the moment, making you forget everything else. It’s just you and him, the weight of his body pressing down on you, the way his voice rasps your name in between breaths, each sound sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

"Say my name, sweetie." he growls, his voice husky, lips hovering near your ear. "I want to hear it. I want to hear how much you need me."

“Cho, cho—” You choked in pleasure as he continued to find him satiating you with pleasure over and over. “Baby, p–puddin’ pop. Please. Oh—”

You feel yourself slipping, losing control as his words become more possessive, each touch pushing you closer to the edge. The room feels smaller, the air heavy with heat and desire as Choso claims you again and again, each time more intense than the last.

And just as you think you can’t take any more, he leans down, his lips brushing your skin as he whispers, “You’re mine. Only mine. Sweetie, you know that right?” His words linger in the air, echoing through the haze of pleasure that surrounds you both, sealing the night with a promise only the two of you can understand.

“I do, I do.” You moaned out in a frenzy. “Baby, my puddin’ pop, I do. O–only, uh…only yours!”

Choso’s pace quickens, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate, as if he’s on the verge of losing control himself. His grip tightens around your waist, fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you closer, the weight of his body grounding you while pushing you to the edge of sensation. His lips are everywhere—your neck, your collarbone, your lips—claiming you with every kiss, every touch. 

Your breaths come in ragged gasps as the tension builds between you, the heat reaching an unbearable peak. He groans softly, his voice thick with need as he whispers, "I’m right there with you... just let go for me." His words are a command and a plea all at once, and the sound of his voice is enough to push you to the brink.

With a final, shuddering thrust, the world around you seems to fall away, the pressure inside you finally releasing in a wave of pure ecstasy. Choso’s name tumbles from your lips, over and over, exactly the way he wanted. His own breath hitches as he follows you into that climax, a deep, guttural groan escaping his throat as his body tenses against yours, the pleasure overwhelming him too.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm and ragged against your skin as he rides out the last waves of pleasure, holding you tightly as if he never wants to let go. His fingers gently stroke your skin now, soft and soothing in contrast to the intense passion you just shared. 

For a moment, everything is quiet, just the sound of your mingled breathing filling the room, the intensity of the moment settling into a soft, shared intimacy. Choso presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his voice a low whisper as he says, “You’re everything I need, sweetie.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. epilogue

As the intensity fades and the world starts to come back into focus, Kamo Choso gently eases himself beside you, his arms never leaving your body. His expression softens, all the hunger and fire replaced with tenderness as he looks at you, his thumb brushing over your flushed cheek.

"You did so good, sweetie." he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. His touch is slow, deliberate, as he strokes your hair, helping you come down from the high. He wraps the blanket around both of you, pulling you into his chest, his body warm and comforting against yours. 

He reaches for a water bottle on your bedside table, offering it to you with a small smile. "Drink up, hm?" he says gently, knowing how much you need it. After you take a sip, he tenderly kisses your temple, his fingers tracing soothing circles along your back. 

The atmosphere shifts into something soft and intimate, his hands carefully massaging your sore muscles, making sure you feel cared for. His voice is low, murmuring sweet reassurances, "I've got you… I’ll take care of you."

Once he's satisfied that you're comfortable, Choso shifts so you're nestled in his arms, your head resting on his chest. He stays close, his fingers gently stroking through your hair, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. There's a certain peace in the quiet moments after everything, and you feel completely safe with him, wrapped up in his warmth.

"You know I’m not going anywhere tonight, right?" he says softly, his voice laced with affection. He leans down to kiss the top of your head, his arms tightening around you protectively. "I’ll be here, all night, right next to you."

The two of you lie there, tangled in each other, as the night settles around you. The outside world doesn’t matter anymore—just the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and the way he holds you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world.

As sleep starts to pull you in, Choso whispers, “I love you, sweetie.” his voice barely audible but filled with sincerity. And in that moment, everything feels perfect, knowing he’ll be right there when you wake up. Your beloved metalhead boyfriend.

[pastryfication]

hey there!! could i just get a really fluffy fic where reader and ollie are cuddling at night?? "You need the fluffiness" or whatever Carlos said HAHA

i need a cuddle buddy so badly i don’t think you understand how touch starved i am ☹️

the soft mattress of your bed bounces slightly as your boyfriend carefully moves around. with your position laying half on his chest, you immediately feel the shift and groan in annoyance.

“mhmm, what are you doing?” your voice comes out croaky, filled by the deep sleep you just awoke from. your eyes blink sleepily against the dark room as you try to gain consciousness.

“nothing,” ollie whispers, gently pushing your head back to its position on his chest. “just wanted you closer. go back to sleep, love.”

your fuzzy brain doesn’t completely understand what he’s saying, so you just hum in response snuggling your face into his warm body. going back to sleep was something you definitely could manage.

ollie smiles at that, tightening his arm to keep you secure against his body.

this is his favourite position in the entire world. nothing feels better than to have you pressed up against him in such an intimate, tender way.

the smell of your shampoo fills his senses, your body lays as a comfortable weight on his beating chest, and the only sound heard is your soft breathing. everything is so perfect, so perfectly blissful and serene that he feels like he just might be in heaven.

but then again, not even heaven could be as perfect as this.

he knows that he has to get up soon so he can get ready for the day, but for now, he just wants to enjoy a rare moment in your presence before he has to face the real world.

because in this moment, none of that exists. here, in this quiet, cocooned in warmth and peace, the world doesn’t seem so demanding. he just wants to stay here, where time seems to slow down, where your steady breaths are the only thing grounding him.

as his hand gently runs up and down your back, ollie feels your body relax even more against him. he doesn’t move, doesn’t want to disturb you. he wonders how something as simple as this can feel so profound, how your presence alone makes everything feel right. he could lay here forever, he thinks—forever soaking in the peace of this fleeting, fragile morning.

the soft hum of the air conditioner in the background, the muted sounds of a world still asleep outside, and your body perfectly tucked into his make him wish this moment could stretch on forevermore, always unbroken.

"love you," he whispers into your hair. he knows you're too far gone in sleep to respond, but it doesn't matter. just saying the words feels like a promise, like a truth that fits perfectly into the quiet between you.

[astars-things]

Pls can I request for lukey: reader gets overwhelmed after meeting Luke’s family with “ you never need to apologise to me. ever. and certainly not for crying… ” 🙏

(I can relate to this)

I stood in the mirror, double-checking my outfit, hair and makeup. "Honey you look perfect" Luke said wrapping his arms around me,

“Are you sure?” I asked, tugging on the fabric again. “I just want everything to go well.”

Luke chuckled gently pulling my hands away from the dress and holding them in his. “Y/N, they’re going to love you. I love you, and trust me, they’ll see everything I see.”

His words made me feel a little better, and I squeezed his hand. “Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

The drive to the Hughes’ family home was short but felt like it stretched on for hours. My mind kept spinning with all the things that could go wrong. What if I said something stupid? What if they didn’t like me? What if I just didn’t fit in?

When we arrived, Luke squeezed my hand one more time before leading me inside. The warmth of the house hit me immediately. It smelled like home, a mix of cooking and something sweet, maybe cookies.

“Luke!” a familiar voice called from the kitchen. His mom, Ellen, emerged, wiping her hands on a towel, her face lighting up when she saw him. She immediately enveloped him in a hug before turning to me.

“You must be Y/N,” she said warmly, pulling me into a hug too, catching me off guard. “We’ve heard so much about you!”

“Good things, I hope,” I said, trying to make my voice sound steady.

“The best things,” she assured me, her smile kind. “Come on, everyone’s in the living room. We’re just about to start dinner.”

We followed her into the living room where Luke’s dad, Jim, and his brothers, Jack and Quinn, were lounging on the couches. Jack immediately sat up, grinning widely.

“So, this is the famous Y/N, huh?” Jack teased, his playful tone instantly putting me at ease. Quinn gave me a nod and a soft smile from his spot, quieter but no less welcoming.

Dinner started out well. Luke’s family was just as close and loving as he’d described. The conversation flowed, filled with teasing, laughter, and stories about the boys’ childhoods. I tried my best to relax, but I could feel my nerves creeping back in, especially when the conversation shifted toward me.

The questions started coming, all of them well-meaning but overwhelming. They asked about my family, my job, my relationship with Luke, and I suddenly felt like I was under a spotlight.

I tried to keep up, answering politely, but my chest felt tight. I could feel the weight of their attention pressing down on me. The noise of the conversation, the clinking of silverware, and the warmth of the room suddenly felt too much.

My breath hitched, and I excused myself as casually as I could, slipping out of the room and heading for the front porch. The cool night air hit my face as I stepped outside, and I let out a shaky breath, trying to calm myself down.

A few minutes later, I heard the door open behind me. I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Luke. He came up beside me, leaning against the porch railing in silence for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice cracking as I wiped a tear that had slipped down my cheek. “I just… I got overwhelmed.”

“Hey, look at me,” Luke said softly, turning to face me. When I met his eyes, they were full of understanding, no judgment. “You never need to apologize to me. Ever. And certainly not for crying.”

I let out a shaky laugh. “But I wanted everything to go well. I wanted them to like me.”

“They do like you,” Luke reassured me, stepping closer and gently pulling me into his arms. “You don’t have to be perfect, Y/N. You just have to be yourself. And trust me, that’s more than enough.”

I buried my face into his chest, his warmth and the steady sound of his heartbeat calming me. “Thank you,” I whispered.

[meatonfork]

Comfort in Company

————————————————————————————————————————

pairing: logan “wolverine” howlett x reader

warnings: nightmares, reader has longish hair, no pronouns used (i think) pls let me know. poc friendly! also, let me know if there are mistakes, im tired. and i think that’s it!

word count: roughly 3.7k

a/n: i have wolverine brain rot 😔 lord help me. i may be a lesbian, but he is a very pretty man

————————————————————————————————————————

It took three excruciatingly long months for Logan to stop looking at you with disdain in his eyes. The man in question was a lone wolf. He valued his alone time, often communicating in grunts and a roll of his eyes, or he’d simply just walk away. But, he never failed to do what you so kindly asked him to do. If you happened to lock eyes from across the room, his eyes would always hold a certain edge that basically screamed “I don’t like you; I don’t want you here.” But, you never took it to heart. 

Much to Logan's discontent, you were persistent. You saw him as a challenge. Someone to crack. The reward was far too enticing for you to back down. Any excuse to talk to him was ready at the tip of your tongue. To him, you were a never ending ray of sunshine. And, fuck. It annoyed him to no end. You constantly bounced around the mansion, never seeming to slow down. A seemingly permanent smile was etched onto your face. The kids adored you. Shortly after arriving, you became a fan favorite. Your maternal nature made the kids feel at home. A common theme amongst the young mutants being a lack of familial love and support, and you were more than happy to provide. 

————————————————————————————————————————

Three months passed before you had a normal conversation with the man, one that wasn’t him just grunting or a small comment that was nearly too quiet for you to hear. It was a late Tuesday night, and you happened to be in the kitchen preparing a new recipe for your class. Teaching kids to cook their own meals rather than relying on ramen or something that could be nuked in the microwave made you feel important. A purple, well loved apron adorned your frame. Green leaves, and pretty pink flowers were embroidered on the front pockets. Flour covered your front in small hand prints from where you had wiped your hands to flip through the pages in front of you. Your hair was pushed out of your face, the warm lighting forming a halo over the crown of your head.

Logan waltzed into the kitchen looking for a glass of water. Another sleepless night had taken over, and he couldn’t sit in bed restless any longer. His figure paused upon seeing you working. A tune poured past your lips as you hummed, a melody he wasn’t quite familiar with. He couldn’t quite get his feet to move any further. Yeah, the man could be brash (a dick, if you will), but he wasn’t blind. Anybody would have to be if they couldn’t see your beauty. Your nose sloped perfectly, and when you concentrated your brows furrowed just right. The apple of your cheeks were smooth, and in this lighting Logan couldn’t find a single flaw. The way your sweats fit just right, or the way your long sleeves were pushed up your forearms. Logan couldn’t deny you looked most at peace when you worked in the kitchen, almost like you were destined to cook and care for others. And, maybe you were. You were certainly good at it. 

He had been the subject of many of your affections. Coffee brewed and his favorite mug laid out for him when he gets up in the morning, even though you’re not there anymore. Leftovers often being set aside for him late at night, his name written on the foil with a little heart. Even his laundry would be folded in a basket and set outside his door on occasion. And every single time, he knew it was you. Your sweet smell often lingered, letting him know he had just barely missed you nearly every time. 

“Oh! Hi, Logan,” you turned your head to peek over your shoulder. A small patch of flour rested on your cheek, “Are you looking for something?” Your voice was soft, just like everything else about you.

Breaking out of his thoughts, he shuffled closer, reaching around you to grab a glass from the cupboard. A grunt escaped his lips, “Jus’ water.” 

The rumble of his gravely sleep voice traveled from his chest to your back where his slightly unzipped hoodie clad chest brushed your backside, causing your eyes to widen just slightly. His pajama pants were slightly too long, the shuffle of them on the floor being the only thing that indicated he stepped away from you aside from the warmth that left you. 

You hummed in reply, not pushing your luck with a forced conversation. Your hands went back to kneading the dough in front of you before you put it back in the bowl. 

“What.. what are you making? Smells good,” he leaned back against the counter, just to your right. Fatigue weighed heavy on his face, and his hair was sticking up in random tufts from what you assumed to be tossing and turning. He looked soft.

“Just prepping some dough for the tarts I’m having the kids make tomorrow. I figured it’d be easier to make the dough to avoid the inevitable flour fights,” a small chuckle escaped your lips, a fond smile taking over your features. 

Logan tilted his head, “Probably the smartest move.”

“I like to think so. Hey, I can save some for you, if you’d like of course. You don’t have to if you d-” Your voice became timid. The idea of having an actual conversation with Logan was starting to hit you, and your nervousness moved to the forefront of your mind.

Logan cut you off with a chuckle, “That’d be nice, sweetheart. Thanks.”

Your face heated up at his words, and that fucker definitely noticed. And, boy oh boy, did he find it amusing.

“Okay, yeah, yeah. I’ll make sure the kids don’t eat them all.” You gave a little nod, and a comfortable silence fell over the two of you. The only sounds were coming from you moving about, putting ingredients away and putting the dough in bowls. 

Your voice broke the silence, “Can I ask you a question?”

“You just did.” His voice held amusement, a small quirk of his eyebrow.

“You know what I mean, smartass.” You quipped back, a small smile tugging on your lips. He grunted with a nod, his hands moving to rest on either side of his hips upon the counter. His eyes followed your movements back and forth from the counter to the fridge.

“I think I’m a little confused. And, please, don’t take this the wrong way. But, why are you sitting with me? I got the impression you were never particularly fond of me.” You pursed your lips, eyes drifting up to his. Your voice was soft, almost as if you were trying to avoid scaring him off. 

A sigh left his lips, “Thought it was time to stop bein’ a dick and talk to ya. I notice, you know?” 

Your head tilted, “What do you mean?” A curious glint flashed over your eyes. Your hands slowly wiped the rest of the flour off onto your apron. Logan couldn’t help but think you looked so small. So pretty. 

“The things you do f’me. I notice them.. Thank you.” His eyes cast downward, suddenly finding the kitchen floor interesting. 

A small flicker of recognition passed over your face. You smiled and reached for the small kitchen towel that rested on your shoulder, hands ringing the small material, “Well, you’re welcome. Honestly, I thought it would be a while longer before I got any thanks out of you.” 

Logan scoffed, “Fuck off. The smell of the dough helped more than anything.” 

“Sure, buddy.” You teased. You turned back to the counter, wiping it down.

He moved to put his cup in the sink, “You should head to bed soon. You could definitely use some beauty sleep, sweetheart.” No you couldn’t. If Logan was forced at gunpoint to tell the truth, he’d say he’d never seen anything so beautiful. But, Logan doesn’t say those things. He barely let himself think them.

“Pot? Kettle? Black? You’re one to talk, do you see your hair?” A loud laugh echoed in the kitchen. Logan’s heart skipped a beat. How had he never noticed how lovely your laugh was? 

“Whatever. I’ll see you in the morning. Don’t forget to save me some, yeah?” He moved towards the hall, a small smile cast your way. 

“Goodnight, Logan. I’ll see you in the morning.” Your sweet voice trailed behind him.

Logan made his way back upstairs and to his room, three doors down from yours. As he passed your room, he could smell your sweet perfume leaking from under the door. Just like every other time he passed by. Sleep seemed to come much easier for him that night. 

————————————————————————————————————————

Since that small interaction, Logan had slowly warmed up to you. After discovering your laugh was his new favorite sound, he’d find any and all ways to make you produce the sound. He didn’t care if you were laughing at or with him. Although, it was more often the former. He started paying more attention to when you’d do small favors for him, finding you later and being sure to thank you. Small touches to your lower back, your shoulder, your elbow. Tying your apron on late nights when your hands were covered in goo from dough, or sauce for some other dish. He became the person you’d have taste test whatever new recipe you wanted to try out. 

“Needs more salt, bub.” He put the spoon back in the saucepan, taking a step back to let you work your magic. 

“Okay, thanks. Do you think it needs anything else?” You moved to the side just a bit to grab the salt, your arm brushing his as you stretched. 

He gave a small shake of his head, “Nah.” He moved to the cupboards to grab plates for the table. Small, casual conversation flowed easily between you two.

 ————————————————————————————————————————

When you weren’t in the kitchen, or your classroom, you could be found in the greenhouse. Your mutation helped largely with producing thriving fruits and vegetables. Beautiful flowers and vines practically overtaking the outside of the building. You made your way through the courtyard, a basket of freshly picked fruits and vegetables sat on your hip. The sounds of the children’s laughter echoing in the air. You raised your free hand to wave at Storm and Rogue, a beaming smile taking over your face when they yelled a hello your way. Dirt covered your hands, your boots not much better off. Your gloves stuck out the front pockets of your gardening apron, cheeks speckled with dirt from when you tugged on the small leaves of the precious foods and they gave way easier than expected. 

“Good bunch today?” Logan asked as he pushed off the brick wall near the entrance of the large school, cigar between his lips. 

“No smoking in the courtyard, Lo.” You slapped his hand away from the strawberries he set his sight on, “And don’t touch the fruit, it’s for the kids.” 

He tsked a little before bringing his hand up to the cigar, “Ah, c’mon, bub. They look so good. You really know what you’re doin’ in there.”

“Okay, fine. Just one. I mean it, Logan.” You give him a pointed look, letting it be known you mean business. But, Logan catches the amusement in your eyes, letting him know he could probably get away with having two. So he does. Popping one in his mouth as you both go up the steps, he holds one in front of your mouth, letting you take it between your teeth. 

“Mmm. You’re right, I do know what I’m doing.” You hum, savoring the sweet taste. Logan watches as your tongue darts from your mouth, licking the sweet juice that stained your lips a light shade of red. 

“Yeah you do,” he mumbles out, eyes captivated by the swift movement. 

“What?” Your eyes move to his.

“Nothin’. Come on, let’s get these washed up.” He opens the door, allowing you to duck under his arm as he follows you into the kitchen. 

————————————————————————————————————————

A storm raged outside. Loud booms of thunder echoed through the school, and lightning flashed and illuminated the dimly lit common room you were sat in. A small fire was lit in the fireplace as a large blanket covered your pajama clad legs. Logan found you curled up on the couch, windows slightly open letting a small breeze in, and nose deep in a book. 

“Hey,” you jumped at the sound of his voice, swiftly turning your head to see him leaning against the doorframe, “Sorry, bub, didn’t mean to scare ya. Mind if I join you?” You took in his attire. The usual white tank covered with a slightly unzipped hoodie, and a pair of grey sweats resting deliciously on his hips.

“Yeah, of course you can, Lo.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, not wanting to disturb the soft atmosphere blanketing you both. Your hand patted the space right beside you as you shifted your legs so your feet rested on the ground. The larger man pushed off the doorframe and made his way to you. He lowered himself to sit next to you, and grabbed your legs to shift them over his lap. You settled yourself against him, splaying the blanket to cover the both of you while your back leaned on the armrest of the couch. 

He ran his hands up and down your calves through the blanket, “What’re you readin’?”

“What the River Knows. It’s really good,” You blinked up at him. 

“Tell me about it, bub.” Hands pulling you closer as you shiver at the slight breeze. As you explained the plot up to the point you’ve read, talking animatedly with your hands, Logan can’t help but to soften his eyes. You get so excited when you talk about things you love. Teaching, cooking and baking, working in the greenhouse or gardening, and now reading. Your voice was still hushed to keep the peace, but the enthusiasm was there all the same. He finds his eyes drifting over your face, lingering on your lips. Soft and plump, still etched in that permanent smile despite him knowing how tired you truly were. He nodded along as you spew, your love for the book coming out like a waterfall. He feigned shock when you revealed plot twists, or anger when you explained how pissed one of the main characters made you. 

Logan’s fingers slightly dug into your flesh as you sat against him. He provided input where he saw fit, fingers dancing along your legs before holding you closer. His features totally relaxed as you rambled, “Sounds like a good book, sweetheart.” 

You finally notice how close you two are, and your heartbeat slightly picks up while your breath hitches. He notices, of course he does. He can hear it thanks to his mutation. He quickly quirks his lips into a small smile seeing your flustered state. His fingers reach up to push some hair behind your ear, and your eyes move straight to his lips. 

You don’t know who moved first, you or him. But the moment your lips touched, you find it didn’t matter. It was slow and languid, eyes falling closed. His hands slowly moved from your calves to your hips, encouraging you to straddle his lap. Your own hands slowly slid up his abdomen, one settling on his chest while the other traveled to the nape of his neck, tugging lightly on the hair at the base. Logan lets out a low groan at the tug, allowing you to slip your tongue into his mouth. You fought for dominance, but in the end he won. Heavy breathing filled the air as you pulled back, his hands ran up and down your back as he pulled you a little closer. You gained the courage to look him in the eyes, finding him already looking at you. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re gorgeous.” He whispered, eyes filled with warmth as he ducked his head to kiss the skin where your shoulder meets your neck, his hair tickled your cheek. 

“I really like you, Lo.” Your whisper met his ear as you leaned your head forward to rest on his chest, cheeks warm.  

Logan squeezed you softly in response, “Me too, hon.”

You slowly sat up, fingers toying with the hair on his cheeks, making his face nuzzle into your palm, “Can you read to me?”

He let out a soft chuckle, “‘Course I can.”

You settled back into his lap, arms wrapped around one of his as he picked up where you left off. The rumble of his voice vibrated through his chest into your ear as your head rested on him. Your eyes flitted up to look at him every so often, and he’d look back at you, ready to press a soft, chaste kiss to your forehead. 

Twenty minutes more of listening to his hushed reading, and you were out cold.

————————————————————————————————————————

When it came to Logan, most everyone knew he had burdens he kept under a tight lock. You saw the scars that ran over his skin. Sheets and mattresses with puncture wounds, and small tears in them. You’d seen them first hand folding his laundry when he forgot it in the dryer. You never pried, it wasn’t your business and if he wanted to talk to you about the horrors that kept him awake into the ungodly hours of the night, he would. In your mind (and pretty much everyone else's), his gruff exterior was a way of deflecting just how broken he really was. You admired his strong will and the way he was able to keep it under wraps in front of people. Most times. 

For you it was a little harder. Logan could hear you on the nights where nighterrors plagued your dreams. The sniffles echoing down the hall and the way you'd shuffle about. Lamps being turned on, and books being moved until you found the one that would keep you company until dawn. In the morning, he’d ask you how you slept. You’d always reply with some sort of answer most people expect to hear, but the small bags under your eyes and the tired smile you’d give him were always a dead giveaway. But, just like you, he wouldn’t pry until you were ready. Luckily for the both of you, those nights happened to be far and few between. 

Things were going good for you and Logan. Not much had changed in routine aside from a few more lingering stares, shared kisses, and naps thrown in here and there. You were in tune to each other, more communication when it came to feelings. That was exciting; hearing Logan express his love for you was something you thought you’d never get tired of and Logan felt the exact same. And, you didn’t get tired of hearing it. But, damn were you tired in general. 

It was late. Classes long over, and kids in bed hours ago. Too scared to go to bed, you sat in your warm classroom, forcing yourself to find something to do. Your eyes were hazy as they reread the lesson plans for the next two weeks. Nightmares had been taking over the last few nights. Forcing you to find something to do rather than sleep comfortably. You rubbed at your eyes, debating on getting up and making yourself a cup of coffee, late hour be damned. Your limbs ached and your head felt as if it was damn near ready to explode. With your elbows propped on your desk, you let your head plop into your hands with a heavy sigh. 

A soft knock lightly echoed through the room, causing you to slowly lift your head up. Logan stood by the door, a concerned frown and drawn eyebrows looked back at you. A sigh left his lips upon seeing the dark circles under your bloodshot eyes. 

He promptly made his way to you with hands stuffed in his jeans pockets, “You’re exhausted, honey.” Logan wasn’t dumb, he knew you weren’t sleeping well. But, he was tired of waiting for you to come to him. 

“I’m too scared to sleep,” Your voice barely a whisper. Tears welled in your eyes at the thought of sleeping only to awake alone. Logan lowered himself onto the edge of your desk, letting your head rest on his thigh. He put a hand on your head, and brushed your hair back. “Why didn’t you come to me, bub?” He all but cooed at you, voice soft yet firm.

“I don’t want to be a burden. You have your own problems too, Lo.” Your voice was muffled by the flesh of his thigh. 

“A burden?” He tsked, “No, no, no, honey. I want you to come find me. No matter the time, or if I’m asleep. Wake me, okay?” His hand continued to work its way through your hair, a content sigh left your lips. 

You whispered out, “Okay, but only if you find me too. Okay?”

“Okay,” he patted your head, “Time for bed, sleepyhead. Come on, I’ve got you.” He gently moved his hand from your head to your arm, giving a light tug to help you to your feet. The moment you stood, his hands found your cheeks forcing you to look up at him. A small pout was on your lips, tears still in your eyes. He cooed and moved his face closer to yours to give you a light kiss. His thumbs worked the tears off the apple of your cheeks, and he pulled back, “I love you, you know?”

“I know,” you nod. “I love you too.”

————————————————————————————————————————

a/n: thank you so much for reading <3

[yelenasdiary]

Hi how about an enemy to lovers with Yelena were in their last mission they somehow get handcuffed to each other and until the team can get them off they are off duty and having to deal with eachother (their feelings)

Cuffin' Season

Pairing: Yelena Belova x GN! Reader

Summary: You and Yelena find yourselves in a situation neither of you want to be in

Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Language Warning | 1.8K

AC: Thank you for sending this! Sorry it took so long; please ignore the cringe title lmao! I hope you enjoy it! x

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” You groaned, throwing your head back against the wall. Yelena sighed heavily, for the last 20 minutes or so, the two of you have been trying to escape a from each other. Yelena still trying to wrap her head around how on earth the target tricked you both and was able to keep you both hostage, not the classic tried to a chair with duct tape across your lips. No, this was the worst kind of being kept hostage. 

“Stop tugging!” Yelena said, rolling her eyes. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, does that hurt? Is being tugged by the fucking wrist hurt the tough Russian spy?” You snapped in frustration. “You know, if it wasn’t for Natasha needing Kate, she’d be the one hand cuffed to you and I wouldn’t be sitting here wishing THEY WOULD KILL ME ALREADY!” You added, yelling out to your kidnappers. 

“They’re not going to kill us” Yelena said. 

“I wish they would!” 

“Alright, what the hell is your problem?” Yelena snapped, looking to you. “What do you mean? You’re the one with the problem” you argued. 

Yelena cocked a brow, “you think I’m the one with the problem? You’ve never liked me; you can’t even stand to be in the same room with me” she replied watching you try to squeeze your hand out of the handcuff. “Nope, that’s all you, spy! I’ve never been nothing by nice to you, but I guess you’re too high and mighty to see that and now thanks to you, we’re trapped and I’m probably going to die handcuffed to you”

“Thanks to me?” Yelena frowned, “do you hear yourself right now? You’re the one the fell for the damn trap. I followed you to stop you, don’t you remember that? Probably not because you can’t do any wrong!” She added causing you to stop your actions and look at her with anger in your eyes. 

“You want to do this now? Right now? Instead of trying to escape you want to play the damn blame game?!” 

“If the shoe fits, why not” Yelena spat. 

“Agh! You’re so unbearable! I can’t believe you think this is my fault! You’re the one who told me to go ahead, it’s like you knew this was going to happen” you argued. 

“I was talking to Kate! I had to wait for you to shut your pipe hole for a second so she could finish her sentence, I said “go ahead, Kate” Yelena corrected you, your mind having a small flash back to that moment. You were so annoyed that you had been paired with the one person who hated you the most that you when you heard her say ‘go ahead’ you took it as her giving you instructions. 

Silence fell, you rolled your eyes once more at the blonde before trying yet another pointless attempt to set yourself free. “Seriously, stop tugging!” Yelena tugged her left wrist, pulling your right wrist to her. 

“Ouch!” You groaned at the pain, before tugging back. Yelena took a deep breath to keep herself from exploding over your childlike behavior, the two of you hated being cuffed together, if anything, this was the most that the two of you had ever spoken to one another. When you first met Yelena, she gave you a similar vibe that Natasha did when you first met her, so you just assumed it would be a little bit of work to break the widow and the two of you would get along after but no, not Yelena. You’ve been on two other missions with her in the past, both missions went quick and rather smoothly but again, such little conversation was ever exchanged between you both. 

Outside of work, Yelena simply made it obvious to you that she wasn’t a fan of you. So naturally, you stopped trying to win the assassin over and found yourself giving her the same cold vibe she would give you. It made things harder given that you were both great friends of Kate’s and the poor archer hated seeing her two closest friends hating one another. But what you didn’t know was the little secret that Yelena had let slip to Kate one night after a few too many shots of Vodka. 

As time passed, you and Yelena sat in silence. Both of you quietly tried to work out a plan to get out of the situation you were in but neither of you wanted to bring your ideas to the table first. “If we work together, we can get out of here” Yelena says with a light sigh, breaking the silence. 

“What do you think I’ve tried to do this entire mission?” You replied, not trying to snap back at her but her comment slightly annoyed you. “You just hate working with me” you added. 

Yelena looked over at you, “how about once we get out of here, we never have to work together again” she says in a calm tone. 

“Perfect! Can’t wait” you gave her a fake smile before her eyes quickly turned to the banging sound of guns outside the door. The two of you instantly went into fight or flight, just waiting for whatever was going to happen come through that door. 

You let out a sigh of relief when you saw Natasha standing in the doorway with a cocked brow, Kate standing slightly behind her. “Well, don’t you two look cozy” Nat commented, earning herself a death stare from her sister. “Have you got the keys?” You asked, ignoring the comment from the older widow. 

“I’ll go find them” you heard Kate say before rushing off. Natasha stood still with a growing smirk as she looked at the two of you, “which one of you wants to tell me how this happened?” She asked before letting out a chuckle. 

“Shut up!” Yelena spat. 

----

Back at the compound, free from being cuffed to Yelena, you just sat down on the edge of your bed, letting out a heavy sigh as you rubbed the handcuff markings on your wrist. Your mind replaying everything that had happened on the mission, trying to work out if you were the one that put you and Yelena in that situation or if it was just a case of bad lucky. Did you the two of you let your hatred for one another get in the way of a mission or was it something much more than that? These thoughts circled your mind until you heard a knock at your bedroom door. 

You opened it only to see Yelena standing there, “can I help you?” You asked kindly although Yelena was the last person you wanted to see right now. 

“Can I come in?” She asked taking you by surprise. You nodded and opened the door wider for her to enter. She walked in and noticed the little things about your room layout, where your perfume sat on a shelf, how neatly your close were hanging in your opened closet, your favorite movie as a poster on one of the walls, all these little things she smiled softly to herself about. 

“If you’re come to give me a lecture about the mission, I won’t want to hear it” you said as you wandered over to your dresser to apply some cream to your hands and wrists. Yelena turned around to face you, “I didn’t come here to lecture you. I came here to tell you that I don’t hate you” she replied. You frowned slightly as you looked back at her, “you don’t?” You questioned. 

Yelena shook her head, “I’ve never hated you” 

“T-then why you act like you do?” 

Yelena took a deep breath and took a seat at the end of your bed, placing her hands in her lap before she looked up at you once more. “I told Kate what happened today, and she said it would be best if I just come clean to you” she started. 

“Clean to me?” You questioned. 

“I don’t hate you, in fact, it’s the opposite to hate” 

Her reply only added to your confusion, “so you what? Dislike me? Or is it you can tolerate me?” You asked. It was your words that quickly told Yelena that this wasn’t going how she thought it would and quickly tried to fix it before this would escalate into yet another argument. 

“Try, I have feelings for you” she replied, her eyes slightly dropping to your feet. Her confession took you back, not once did you ever think that Yelena’s behavior towards you was because she had possible feelings for you. “I know it’s probably not what you expected but putting Kate’s advice aside for a moment, after today and the way we talked to one another wasn’t okay. I didn’t know that’s how you felt until today. I didn’t think that I was giving you the impression that I hated you” she paused as you slowly rubbed the cream into your skin while listening to her continue. 

“I’ve never looked at somebody and have my heart skip a beat, I’ve never heard somebody talk to me and wish they would never stop, I’ve never had somebody smile at me and that make me nervous. I guess I was so cold to you because I didn’t know how to be around you so I guess I thought that if I was distant with you that I wouldn’t feel these things, but I spoke to Kate and she told me that what I feel is okay” she went on. 

You wandered over to her and sat beside her, “well, I can say I’m so glad that you came to me. I thought I was going mad” you looked to her, “you’re not the only one who has feelings in this” you added.

Yelena’s eyes lit up, “do you mean y-“ 

You nodded before she could finish her question, “I don’t like the saying ‘if they’re mean to you it’s because they like you’ but I guess it has some kind of truth” you added, making you both chuckle. Gently, you took Yelena’s left hand into yours, “we don’t have to act on these feelings if you don’t want too or not ready, I don’t ever want to push you” you assured her. 

“Being handcuffed to you has been the highlight of my week, I would like to explore these feelings more, but it needs to be slowly” Yelena replies. You couldn’t help but smile softly at her, “we have all the time in the world, there is no need to rush anything”

You noticed Yelena blush a little at your words and you swore, if you could, you’d kiss her right then and there but you wanted this to work and right now, you were finally able to see a side of Yelena you wish you saw sooner.

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[moist-for-xavier]

NSFW Alphabet for Charles Xavier

a/n: I did Charles before he got in the wheelchair as well as after (sort of as how things changed) but then I included Charles from Days of future past as well just as another comparison

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

❥ before wheelchair

He was the king of aftercare. Brings you glass of water, wipes you down even picks you up to use the toilet. Usually, after getting enough strength you two take a shower and then cuddle while he drones on about some topic

❥ in a wheelchair

He has now become the pillow princess he always took care of before. Unable to get up, it’s up to you to clean him up, give him a drink and take care of yourself. But you don’t mind. Not when he looks at you like you hung the stars on the sky

❥ days of future past

The aftercare went downhill from that point. Sure, he wipes you down and gives you some water, but the cuddling depends on the situation. Most of the time, he will leave. Cuddling is too much emotional vulnerability. He’ll up and leave, expecting you to leave soon as well.

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

His were always his hands. Just because he notices just how much your eyes linger on his long, veiny hands when he reaches for his temple or twirling a pen when unsure what to write

On you, it was hips. He loves watching you walk ahead of him. He loves when he sits in a wheelchair or just a normal chair and you stand between his spread legs. Just how beautiful they fit into his hands, especially if you have hip dips

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

Before he got in the wheelchair, he liked seeing it on your face or in your mouth. But one time when he finished in a condom inside you he pulled out and noticed the condom was broken and his cum leisurely leaked out of your abused hole. Since then he could only accept his cum in you or on your cunt

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

He keeps your used panties around in his pocket somewhere. As a sort of souvenir or a reminder that you love him even if he’s in a wheelchair

Another dirty secret is that he used to listen to you touch yourself. He’d enter your mind and witness the same fantasies you did so he could jerk off as well. He never told you, never will. But you know, you could feel him probing your mind

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

He wasn’t all that experienced when he first got with you before the Cuba accident. Sure, he had couple girls, maybe a guy or two, but he wasn’t a fuck boy. So you guys were pretty even

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

❥ before wheelchair

Missionary or mating press. He likes to see your face as he fucks you. Just to see your eyes roll back as he projects more filthy images right into your mind

❥ in a wheelchair

Cowgirl or reverse cowgirl. There isn’t much of a choice if we’re honest with each other. Or face sitting. He’ll die a happy man between your legs

❥ days of future past

Usually doggy or against the wall if he’s too impatient to get you into a bed or a couch. Anything facing away from him so you don’t have to look at the mess of a man he is

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

❥ before and in a wheelchair

He’s very lighthearted. It’s all about being comfortable with each other. If it means joking, then so be it. He loves seeing genuine joy on your face and under no circumstance will it ever be a boner killer for him

❥ days of future past

Very serious, very frustrated. His mood is hanging on a thread and just a small giggle for you could kill his mood

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

❥ before and in a wheelchair

Not stripped clean. Just nicely trimmed with the cutest thin happy trail up to his navel. The colour matches, just a bit darker. And you always help him trim up, it’s a binding activity at this point

❥ days of future past

It’s a jungle down there. He can’t be bothered to wash his hair more than once a week. You really think he’ll care for the carpet?

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

❥ before and in wheelchair

Very romantic. The first time you had sex he had flowers, nice dinner, calming scent and candles. He can be beautifully romantic but also nasty. Depends on what you want

❥ days of future past

No romance. He doesn’t want to waste that much energy on someone who will inevitably leave. It’s very transactional even if you’re dating. Just something to take out both of your frustrations and move on. Doesn’t want to get attached because he’s sure you’ll leave him like everyone else

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Very much. Often. Loves to listen to you when you do it. Mutual masturbation is a common occurrence. The problem lays in the fact that after getting in the wheelchair, he’s unable to make himself cum. So it’s just a whole lot of edging until you finish him off. But during days of future past, not so much. He was way too disgusted with himself to touch himself like that. He didn’t deserve it. But then fucking you into the mattress is okay

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Professor kink, praise, face sitting, breeding, pegging, voyeurism, exhibitionism

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His study or the bedroom. Especially now that he’s in a wheelchair, he plays it safe

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

When you call him Professor in a sultry way, ask him to guess what panties you have on or just showing him and then later giving them to him while walking away letting him know you’re bare under the pants or skirt. Telling him what you think about or just asking him to read your mind

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

Complete mind control. He doesn’t want a doll to fuck, he wants you, fully conscious, able to do things on your own

Pain. He would never hurt you. Sure, a light smack on the butt when you walk past or are riding him. But anything that will bruise is a no

Pee. No.

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

Will always prefer giving. He always loved the taste of your arousal, how it would drip down his chin in a stringy, sticky mess. He wants you to sit on his face every chance possible, but not just hover over, but sit properly like a chair. If he were to suffocate and die, he’d die the happiest man on earth

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

❥ before wheelchair

Slow and sensual all the way. If you ask very nicely he will go faster or harder, it’s all up to you

❥ in a wheelchair

Pretty slow as well. It’s all up to you again, but this time literally. Sure, he can rub your clit, but hips down, it’s on you. So usually it’s just nasty, slick, sticky grinding your clit into his pubes, squeezing him inside and fondling his balls

❥ days of future past

Fast and hard. Your face usually pushed into the sheets, body just a tool for him to abuse and let out all his frustrations

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

❥ before wheelchair

Yes. Absolutely. Whenever chance possible. He’s a young man with a raging libido, he’ll take every chance he could get to rearrange your insides

❥ in a wheelchair

No. Having sex in this stage is a process. Just getting it up takes a while and getting off takes even longer

❥ days of future past

Most of these encounters are quick. Just a quick transaction so he can let you go as soon as possible. In his head, you don’t want to see him after, so he makes it quick and then vanishes somewhere again to sulk and drink some more, leaving you to tend to yourself

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

❥ before wheelchair

Yes. He’ll take whatever chance you’re offering. You want to have sex in the class before he has to teach? Okay, but make it quick

❥ in a wheelchair

No. Everything has been significantly slowed down with his disability. And it would be quite difficult to execute the same rendezvouses he used to have with you, but he misses them every day

❥ days of future past

Depends. Usually not. He’d wait until Hank would leave or shut himself into his room to have his way with you. It happened once that Hank walked in on you two and since then Charles took great care to never allow that to happen again

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

❥ before wheelchair

Whole lot of stamina. Able to go for about 4 rounds, even if the last two are a bit sloppy or rushed. He can hold his orgasm for a long time the first two-three rounds, mostly focused on paying attention to your pleasure instead

❥ in a wheelchair

He can go for about 5 rounds. All of them long since he can keep himself from orgasming for a while. Unfortunately, not by choice. But since you’re the one on top and your energy isn’t endless, your thighs usually giving out before the 3rd round. You usually lay together, his hand playing with your clit and you jerking him off just until/if you get more energy to continue riding him

❥ days of future past

His stamina has been greatly deteriorated from his younger days by his alcohol abuse. He can keep up for good 2 rounds, but they don’t last long since he can’t hold his orgasm for too long

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

❥ before wheelchair

Yes. The most common one is slipping a little vibrator in and having you walk around with it buzzing softly only your clit and in you to make you nice and wet for later. Sometimes he lets you use a strap on him and peg him instead. It requires a lot of trust from him, so expect it to be brought up at least a good year into the relationship

❥ in a wheelchair

The vibrator is still someone that stuck to him. He still uses it sometimes, just not as often as before

❥ days of future past

Not really. Not much to say there, he’s too afraid to do anything in case he scares you away

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

❥ before and in wheelchair

Yes. Loves it. Loves to play with the vibrator settings. He loves projecting the nastiest sex images of you and him right into your brain. Loves to watch you squirm and face grow hot

❥ days of future past

Not really. He wants it to be over to let you go. Again, too scared he’ll drive you away by being himself

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

❥ before and in a wheelchair

Whimpers. Panting and whimpering like a dog. He’s pretty loud, it’s not usual for you to cover his mouth or kiss him to silence him

❥ days of future past

Groans and pants. He doesn’t make much noise, choosing to keep it inside. Too much vulnerability again, too worried his noises will weird you out and you’ll leave as well

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

He is a closet pervert. He will use his telepathy to project his nasty thoughts into your mind. He loves to do it while in the presence of other people, maybe some unfortunate soul that has a crush on you. He’s also willing to have sex in front of other people only to later erase their memory of it. Also likes to look up your skirts

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

Average, but very beautiful. Good length with a perfect thickness. Beautiful pale with a cute pink tip and a nice thick vein on the bottom that makes him whimper like a dog

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

❥ before wheelchair

High. Extremely high. Maybe not for sex entirely, but extremely dirty minded, all the time. And loves to show you what he’s thinking about. And it usually leads to sex

❥ in a wheelchair

It lowered down with the amount of work he has as well as the fact he can’t get it up as easy. But with enough help from you, he will deliver

❥ days of future past

Low. Really low if you’re casual. Just once a month just to get his mind off of everything is enough. But his high libido from his youth is still present. The problem comes from being too worried that he’d scare you away with it

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

❥ before and in wheelchair

He doesn’t fall asleep until you’re safely tucked into his side and asleep. It’s normal for him to stay awake reading aloud to you to help you relax before he allows himself to relax as well

❥ days of future past

He doesn’t fall asleep. You can take a nap in his bed but he won’t stay with you. He might take a nap on his own in his study

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n: Let me know if you find any mistakes and thank you for reading <3

[aviiarie]

cws & notes: reader (and kaveh) are VERY implied to be aromantic or on the aromantic spectrum. mentions of kissing. lots of platonic affection. platonic kaveh & gn!reader. 1.1k words. wrote this for myself tbh

“So are you two dating?”

You wish you could say it's the first time you've heard the question. And you wish you could bring yourself to be annoyed about hearing it again, but you know there's no malice or spite in the words. Only a polite sort of curiousity, unaware of the way your stomach turns at the thought.

And maybe you wish you could tell Nilou 'no, we're not, why would you think that?' but you know your hand is intertwined with his, and his knee is touching yours, and you have his cheek leaning against the top of your head. You know how it looks, but that never mattered. It felt comfortable, like you fit together just right. Affectionate, with no strings attached.

That was the part that no one seemed to get. You and him were at an understanding that seemed to make sense to no one but yourselves; the squeezing hugs, and nicknames, and nights spent staying up until 3am didn't mean a thing. When you fell asleep on his shoulder, when he chastely kissed you goodbye before leaving on a work trip, it wasn't because you both harboured a secret love you were too shy to say out loud.

You adored him, of course. He was your best friend. But that was it; no strings.

There were always those who couldn't wrap their heads around the thought, the ones who insisted that they had to be at least into each other a little bit. So much time spent being friends, such closeness had to speak to a blossoming romance that just hadn't quiet bloomed yet, right?

What they didn't know was you had tried, your senior year at the Akademiya. It was after all of the comments about how odd it was that they were so close without being a couple finally started to get to them. During a party hosted by a classmate you don't remember the name of, when the teasing and jabs had gotten a little too much, you had found him taking a breather out on the front steps.

Conversation came easily, comfort came quietly, and soon the topic shifted to what people were saying. It was always talk, rumours, gossip. But he could see how they were weighing on you. He could see the look of doubt in your eyes, wondering if this was something you were supposed to want.

If you can't bring yourself to fall for the most important person in your life, then what was wrong with you? Was love a prize that you were never going to win, a lock that you're never going to find the key for?

“Will you kiss me?” You blurted out, and his eyebrows raise. “J-Just once. I just... everyone keeps telling me I'm supposed to like you, and you're supposed to like me, but I just...”

“You want to see?” Kaveh asked hesitantly. You swallow, and nod. “I don't want to do something you don't want to do.”

“I want to. Please, I... I don't want to ask anyone else.” You paused, before quietly adding on, “If there's truly something wrong with me, I want to know now.”

The pinch between Kaveh's eyebrows deepened, but there was a flicker of vulnerability behind his eyes. Some part of him was flashing with the same fear, wondering if there was something wrong with him too, all because he couldn't muster up enough emotion to see you in a romantic light.

Carefully, he placed his hand on your cheek, bringing your face closer to his. There was a pause, before he met your lips in an awkward kiss. There were no sparks that crackled against your mouth, no butterflies in your stomach. It was a unpleasant clashing of teeth together, with your cracked lips pressing against his soft ones for a second too long.

You pull away, face flushed with embarrassment more than anything. “I... I don't think I want to do that again.”

“Me neither.” Kaveh grimaced. He sighed, leaning back to give you a bit more space. “Why do you worry so much about what they say?”

“Because! I'm supposed to enjoy it, aren't I?” There were tears in your eyes, but you didn't care. If there was one person you could cry around, it was him. “What is wrong with me? Why can't I even fake it?”

“You don't need to!” Kaveh said quickly. He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Maybe... maybe some people just don't like that sort of love. I know I sure don't, and I've known you long enough to figure out you don't either. We don't have to be a couple to care about each other, right?”

You stared at him, slightly dazed. “...I guess not.”

And since that night, you've never been able to forget his words, and the way he said them. It was like your world got shifted around, and nothing seemed quite the same. All the stress about love, all the worry about whether people thought you were a couple seemed so insignificant all of a sudden.

Yet, your new lighter worldview never stopped that burning question, that followed the pair of you like a shadow.

“So, are you two dating?”

The question echoes in your head, sounding over and over. Nilou is still staring at you, waiting for an answer, although her gaze occasionally flicks to your linked hands resting on his lap.

“We're just friends,” Kaveh responds smoothly. He lets go of your hand long enough to wave away the question, laughing lightly. “Honestly, the amount of times I've been asked that...”

“O-Oh!” Nilou's eyes widen, and her cheeks turn pink. Part of you feels bad for making her look so flustered, but the uncomfortable twist in your gut reminds you that it was her question that started it in the first place. “I didn't mean to assume... you just look so close!”

“We are.” He smiles gently. “But I can assure you we are very happy as friends. Neither of us are interested in that sort of relationship, much less with each other.”

She nods, as if she understands, but there's still confusion behind her expression.

It didn't matter. People didn't have to get what was so special about the two of you. They didn't have to understand what you had, and what you lacked, and why it didn't make much of a difference at all.

You were friends, best friends. And that was plenty enough love for the both of you.

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai

[icallhimjoey]

supreme leader, would you ever write a sequel to ‘ground rules’ where our baby with joe is here and it’s just a cutesy dad!joe moment? (also wouldn’t be opposed to some smutty times as well bc i just can’t go past gotta-be-quiet-cause-the-baby’s-sleeping-but-fuck-i-want-you-right-now-new-parent-smut) heart you, as always!!

we're switching gears, everyone! sorry for the whiplash! Wordcount: 3K

---

Only Have Eyes For You

(read Ground Rules here)

Joe has yet to stop staring at her.

It’s either eyes on her, or eyes on you, and even though you’re gorgeous and make his chest swell beyond what he thought his ribs could ever manage, looking at her is different.

New.

“Will you keep an eye on her?”

“Yea, of course I will. Go get some rest, please, baby.”

It’s been over an hour, and he still needs to raise a thumb up to wipe a tear from an inner corner about every thirty seconds. For several reasons, too.

It’s been five hours since you’ve given birth, and both sets of grandparents – grandparents, that sounds so fucking wild – have left evidence of their visit all over the room. There’s balloons, cards, flowers, bags with gifts in for you and for the newborn baby girl and Joe feels like they brought too much and too little. Were there for too long but left too soon. Should’ve been there right after instead of two hours later, but also maybe should’ve come to meet the baby tomorrow instead of today.

He wants to protect and hide this little girl from the world, but also needs everyone to see how gorgeous she is.

Five-hour old baby, fast asleep in her clear plastic bed that’s been placed right next to your hospital bed where you’re asleep even faster.   

He’s got no idea how much sleep he’s gotten over this weekend. Doesn’t care, either. Just knows that he’s staring at perfection no matter which way he turns, and that the small of his lower back aches because he’s been sitting in his chair weird, but this is the only way he can both touch you and see her little face.

Her perfect little face.

Joe’s got a hand around your ankle as you lie passed out in your hospital bed, finally in what seems to be a deeper sleep rather than just a quick nap, and he wishes you could stay like that for at least the next ten hours. He knows it doesn’t work like that with a newborn, and you’re obviously in a hospital which doesn’t help, but God, you deserve to sleep for a fucking lifetime.

Everything that surrounds you looks and sounds normal, so he guesses your blood pressure must be okay, but he keeps his ears pricked, just to be sure.

The birth was a long one. Almost everything you had tried preparing for hadn’t happened in the way you’d expected, which is what everyone kept telling you was going to happen, but it was still frustrating. It did however feel very fitting with how the two of you had even gotten together.

It was a good thing you managed to pull through most of the labour with humour.

Doctors and nurses had started making jokes of you becoming permanent residents when your dilation had halted at six centimeters for ages, and in return, you had started making jokes that they were going to have to start knocking before coming in, because you knew of a way to induce the labour that Joe would feel more comfortable about if he had some privacy.

“No, no, I do not–” Joe had immediately protested the first time you’d cracked the joke, and the lack of laughter coming from him plus your weird eyebrow wiggle had only made the nurses laugh louder.

“Sorry to inform you,” the doctor said in the middle of giving you another check. “But having sex will not cause labour to begin before your body is ready for delivery.”

“It won’t?” You’d acted all heartbroken. Made Joe mutter, “Jesus Christ!” under his breath, because, you were six centimeters dilated for fuck’s sake. Of course he wasn’t going to have sex with you.

“We’re still not in labour, are we?” the doctor said, insinuating that he thought you had probably tried it at home already.

“Ask him how many times we’ve had sex...” you’d challenged immediately, making Joe groan from the corner of the room where he was sort of pacing around, facing the wall more than the room, because there was another man with fingers deep inside of your vagina, talking to you about sex.

“Can we please focus on—” Joe started, equally as embarrassed as he was humoured by you.

“Once.” You answered your own question and gestured at your stomach. “One time! All it took!”

It had become a running joke between the two of you that Joe didn’t think you were going to involve so many other people in. Joe had gotten you pregnant and then hadn’t touched you since.

Not true. There had been plenty of touching. But you were super pregnant when you’d gotten together and it never felt right for Joe to insert parts of himself into parts of you that felt like they belonged to a whole different person for the time being.

Which actually made a lot of sense to you.

It was just unfortunate that hormones had made you super horny for half the pregnancy.

Hence why it had become a running joke.

One that really annoyed Joe. You were lucky that he loved to hear you laugh and to see you smile so much.

When the two of you were left alone again, Joe scolded you through a smile and pressed kisses to your temple, because you were being funny and entertaining even though you’d just gotten bad news. Again.

Joe lovingly touched your stomach, and pressed his cheek to yours as he looked down at it and said, “You’ve made it too nice in there. She doesn’t want to come out.”

“Remember when we were like, let’s do this as friends...” you joked, but Joe could hardly focus on your light tone of voice when you grabbed hold of his bicep with a strong grip.

“Idiots.” Joe commented, finding your hand and covering it with his.

“I think we would’ve been able to do it, but—”

“You think so?”

“Yea. I was very determined. But, this is nicer.” You smiled and made eye-contact with Joe. He was quick with a tissue, to dab at your wet eyes. He’d learnt to be ready for every and any emotion over the past few days; everything and anything could bring you to tears.

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it.” Joe said, smiling too. “I was already sort of head over heels if I’m honest. You were determined for two, I think.”

That had made you burst into actual sobs.

The last hour of giving birth, you’d cried non-stop. A weird silent steady leaking of water from your eyes as you struggled through the delivery. Joe guessed it was the pain – had to be, because, what the fuck was even going on? How the fuck had nature decided that this was meant to be normal? But then finally, when soft baby cries filled the room, one of the nurses said, “You’re there, you’re done. Relax, we’ll take it from here.” He’d realized then that it they were tears of exhaustion over anything else.

You’d been going for hours, and then your blood pressure did something funny after the placenta got removed, so now they wanted to keep you for a bit, which was scary. But going home with a newborn sounded even scarier, if he was honest... so he wasn’t going to complain about how uncomfortable his chair was.

Or how tired he felt.

He’d been going for hours too, but his tired was different from your tired. He could feel it in his bones, sure, but it was easy to keep his eyes open. Easy to keep staring at her. Easy to do jobs whenever someone asked him to do one.

“Mum’s done. Now, dad, come here. Pay attention.” 

And he has not been able to stop paying attention yet. He’s listening to your breathing, paying close attention to the rhythm because you’re the priority after all that’s happened. Yet he can’t keep his eyes off of his baby.

There’s a baby next to your bed.

The one he watched you gave birth to.

Your baby.

His baby.

He thumbs another tear from the corner of his eye before it leaves a wet trail down his face and uses his sleeve to dry both his eyes as he pushes his nose into his elbow for a second, not letting go of your ankle.

Life is ridiculous.

He still feels emotional over seeing you scream and cry, in pain and all sweaty. You’d performed a miracle, but it was no fun to witness how difficult the whole thing was on you. Had he not already convinced you to be with him, he would have started that quest today and would’ve likely never stopped.

When he blinks his eyes back into focus, it’s to you stirring in the white sheets of your hospital bed.

He freezes.

Maybe if he holds his breath and doesn’t make a single noise, you won’t wake up. He’s not sure how easy it’ll be to fall back asleep if you pull from your unconscious state completely. He wasn’t there when it happened – had gotten hauled off to help wash and dress his baby (the tiniest clothes he’d ever seen still too big on her, he was pouring tears as he tried to put the socks on and hated how you weren’t there to see it) – but he was informed that you lost a lot of blood and needed a lot of stitching.

After going through all of that, you’d needed stitching.

Your baby had been taken to get cleaned up, and you’d told Joe to go with her. To watch her. To stay with her and to not lose her out of his sight.

He’d listened.

Knew better than to tell you no.

But then you were left on your own, and you’d needed stitching.

You can’t move without wincing now, and Joe could probably jog home if he really wanted to. How is that fair?

Joe holds his breath, and watches you stretch your spine in your sleep before you relax again.

But then suddenly, your slow movements turn jumpy as you jolt awake with a gasp. It makes Joe jump almost just as much, and he narrowly avoids your knee to his face.

He watches you wince in pain, clearly uncomfortable, but then you immediately sink back into the mattress when your eyes find the clear plastic baby bed that holds your child, and you release a relieved breath.

“My God,” Joe whispers, already humoured by what just happened. “She’s still here, calm down.”

“Sorry,” you croak, curling a hand around the edge of the hard plastic and Joe watches your knuckles go white.

“You okay?” Joe’s already up on his feet, hand on your face to wipe your hair back.

With your eyes still closed and head slumped to the side, you softly answer, “Hmm. My vagina hurts.”

“Yea, of course.” Joe nods, unable to look at you without all the sympathy in the world displayed on his forehead. “Do you need anything for the pain?”

“I need to pee, but I don’t want to. It’s already burning.”

“I’ll go get someone.”

“Please.”

Joe gets a nurse in, and he helps you get out of the bed before you’re helped over to the toilet. Not before you tell Joe to watch her. Watch the baby.

“I’ll keep an eye,” Joe says, because he’s already found it’s his new favourite thing to do. To stare at her. “Go pee.”

The door to the bathroom is left open, and Joe listens to your conversation as he does as he’s told.

It’s a lot of, “Careful, mum. Careful. Slow movements.” coming from her, and a lot of hissing in between your teeth from you. A lot of, “Is this normal?” questions coming from you, and a lot of “If you feel this, it’s probably for this reason, which is totally normal.” answers from the nurse.

Joe gets the room and the fresh new little person all to himself for a second, and he leans all the way over your bed, feet still on the floor, his head resting in both hands as he slowly blinks at what you’ve created together.

He can’t get over how you’ve made this.

Two people have just gone and accidentally made a whole new person... it’s legitimately insane, Joe thinks.

The peeing takes longer than Joe thought it would take. He doesn’t blame you for taking your time, but he hopes that you figure out how to do it without being in pain or needing any help before you get to go home.

Joe hears a shocked gasp coming from you before you softly ask, “That’s a lot of blood. Is that a lot of blood?” followed by a toilet flushing and a reassuring, “Absolutely totally normal. Don’t worry.”

Baby is still asleep. Soundly and so peacefully, small tiny nose doing a perfect job at breathing, Joe’s already so proud of her it’s stupid.

“Well done, mum! First bathroom visit!” the nurse claps her hands together and laughs when you give a sarcastic yay in faux celebration.

You’re miserable, but Joe can hear your smile through everything and it makes his heart swell even more with pride. For you. For urinating. He’s proud because you peed, what the hell.

He shares his first secret smile with his daughter. “Mummy peed!”

You get helped back into your underwear and joggers, and Joe lets his view distract him enough that he almost doesn’t hear what you ask just before you step back into the room.

“Six weeks before sex, right?”

You’re joking, but Joe hears the serious confusion when the nurse asks, “Oh, have you not been talked through—”

“We have. Don’t listen to her.” Joe interrupts, and when he looks over his shoulder to see you shuffle back over to the bed, he catches the cheeky smile you’re trying to hide.

Before he can say anything else about how he’ll have you wait twelve weeks if you keep bringing it up, he catches your eyes flash in pain, just from your small shuffling steps, and he’s up in an instant. Pushes himself from your bed and turns to place both hands under your arms to make sure you’re safe and supported.

You hold onto him like a lifeline and pause in place for a moment.

God, the labour is done. Can you have a single second without any uncomfortable sharp pulling down there? Jesus.

You don’t see how Joe and the nurse share a look over your shoulder. The nurse is smiling at him, and Joe gives her a tired shake of his head as he rolls his eyes, quietly communicating that the girl he’s chosen to have a baby with is an actual menace.

“Maybe eight weeks?” Joe carefully jokes, hoping it’ll get you to laugh and forget about how sore you’re feeling for a second. Instead you just sigh and go, “Yea, maybe.”

You’re helped back into bed by four hands, shuffle slowly into position and leave enough room for Joe to join you.

You’re sore and tired and in a weird emotional state, and it’s simply much nicer to be all of those things squeezed tightly up against him. Joe knows to curl into you with his whole body and lays an arm over your pillow for you to place your head on. It gives the both of you the perfect view of your baby.

Your baby.

You feel a flash of want for her. To have her in your arms. Against your chest. To hold and hug and keep her close. But she’s asleep and you’re not quite sure what to do when she wakes up. What if she cries and you can’t get her to stop? This is safer.

You can both just watch her.

“I’ll be back in thirty minutes,” the nurse says after checking a file, and you ask, “To help me feed her?”

The nurse smiles, says, “Yea sure, that too.” and leaves.

You make a funny face, confused, and look at Joe like you think she was being rude.

“To check on you.” Joe softly says, and your face drops immediately.

“Oh. Yea. But I feel fine, now.” your focus is barely on yourself. There’s this whole other brand new human to be worried about.

“Hmm. Okay. Think you can sneak a little more sleep before she’s back?”

“Probably not.” you say, but Joe sees how you close your eyes anyway. Feels how you carefully move your hips back a little to feel more of Joe against your body. Feels how you grab onto his arm and firmly press it into your stomach that’s still big and round, but all soft and squishy now.

“Can you try?” Joe whispers, lips touching the shell of your ear.

“Will you watch her?” you’re already sinking away. Joe’s body heat is pulling you under quicker than he’d anticipated.

“Of course I will,” Joe says, but lies, and watches you for a moment instead. You’re his priority. Thinks it’s silly how you wouldn’t accept that if he told you. “I’ll watch her.” he confirms, not lying then, because he’s talking to his daughter as he says it.

Joe watches you until he feels you drop of the deep end. Feels you relax in a way he’s not felt you relax in ages.

After a while Joe repeats, “I’ll watch her.” in a barely-there whisper before he places a barely-there kiss against your cheek as you sleep.

His gaze moves back to the small baby girl in the room, and Joe’s eyes immediately well up again.

It’s stupid how even just the sight of her feels new and unexpected again. Like he’s seeing her for the first time once more.

And he simply finds that, once again, it’s so easy to stare.

Finds he can’t stop staring.

“Yea, I’ll keep an eye,” Joe whispers to himself. Thumbs another tear from his inner corner before it can run down his face and bother you.

“I’ll keep an eye.”

---

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