#I will read more on him and his works... some day

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Shameless

Tags: dad!Toji x fem!reader, modern!au, nsfw, mdni, breeding kink, he calls himself daddy

Synopsis: You’re Toji’s live-in nanny. He wants to breed you, and he successfully does so.

An: This is my story on ao3!! You can read it here. If you’re feeling extra nice, a kudos would be cool too.

Being a single dad was hard. Toji learned quickly after his wife's death that he in fact couldn't do this alone. The way little Megumi's big eyes looked up to him for direction... him of all people. He was not cut out for this. Megumi's mom was a wonderful mother: sweet, nurturing, and patient. Toji really didn't know if he was any of those things.

Luckily, her life insurance provided Toji with a relatively comfortable life combined with his job in construction of course. Construction might be his vice. He got away from home for 12 hours a day, and he worked so hard that his brain was mush by the time he was home. Not that he didn't love his son, he did, but every time he looked at Megumi he saw his sweet late wife. He also saw his short comings as a father.

Babysitters quit on him regularly. It was always the same excuse. "Megumi's an angel, but I can't be here 7 days a week. I have a life too." It was incredibly annoying. They'd stay for Megumi but left due to another one of his shortcomings.

Another one quit. That would be the third one this month. "Listen Mr. Fushiguro, I know a friend. She does this sort of thing on a different level. Have you ever considered having a live-in nanny?"

That stupid girl's question enlightened Toji. He had completely forgotten that live-in nannies still existed. After getting her friend's number and paying her what he owed her for her time, Toji relaxed on the couch with little Megumi tucked into his side. The three-year-old was happily babbling next to him, enamored by Toji's phone that was in his hand.

Toji looked at the number dialed into his phone, and he sighed. He was tired of making cold calls to potential babysitters like he was some desperate whore, but maybe, maybe this would be different. He wouldn't mind having a live-in nanny. His house wouldn't mind it either. Toji would be able to finally breathe. No more coming home from 12 hour shifts to pop something to eat in the microwave and wash the dishes. He wouldn't even have to see this so-called nanny often. He could pick up more hours at work with all of his new freedom of not having to worry about pissing off the babysitter.

*** *** ***

Either way, that's how you ended up in Toji's house. For the past three months you had taken care of Megumi, cleaned and deep cleaned his entire house, cooked him plenty of dinners from scratch, and even did his laundry the exact way he preferred. His house has never looked better, and Megumi had never looked so happy.

Despite being here for three months, you barely saw Toji. He seemed to avoid you like the plague and only answer with one-worded answers, which was fine. This was your job, not your actual family. There was no need for extensive communications. Though, you had gushed to your friend plenty over text about how hot "Mr. Fushiguro" was. He was conventionally attractive, yes. But you also always had a thing for the brooding types, and dammit, Toji was brooding. There was also something to be said about how he came home in the evenings. A black wifebeater clinging to his skin from a long day of working out in the sun. His jeans would be dirty from the work he was doing. His skin glistening from a thin sheen of sweat. His hair was always a mess. Goddammit. It was enough to make you feel fertile.

It was early in the morning, Toji was getting ready to go to work. Megumi had woken up, crying for his papa not to leave him. He's going through an extra clingy phase. He's usually okay once Toji's gone.

"Papa!" Megumi cried as Toji entered the living room. You had Megumi in your lap, rocking him with a sleepy look on your face. His tears were wetting your shirt, but you didn't seem to mind.

"He'll be back tonight, Gumi." You shooshed him and continued to try to rock him and pat his back.

Toji's face was unreadable. He was never one to get all upset over Megumi's crying, but hearing his son cry out for him tugged on his heartstrings extra this morning. Then, there was you. You were a godsend to Toji's life. Getting a live-in nanny was one of the best decisions he had ever made. Above that, you were excellent with Megumi. You were sweet... nurturing... patient. He hated how seeing you with his son made him feel. It almost felt like maybe 2 kids wouldn't be that big of a deal. Maybe 3. One on each of your legs and another one swelling in your belly. God. He was disgusted in himself for thinking like that.

"I love you, kiddo." Toji said quickly as he leaned down, giving Megumi's forehead a quick peck. The toddler made grabby hands for him. It was almost enough to make him stay home. Almost. Toji's eyes met yours as he was still leaned over. His face was close to yours. The tension between them were palpable. The moment felt like eternity between them.

Then, a black credit card was in view. "I need new work gloves. Get the extra thick rubber ones, will ya? Also, get whatever you and the kid want. I'll be back late tonight." He handed you the card and sauntered out of the house despite Megumi's pleas for him to stay. You looked at the Amex black card and blinked a couple of times. Only the top earners in the world had cards like this. Toji was just an average blue collar dad... It made you wonder how he got a card like this.

You still spent that shit though.

*** *** ***

Toji looked at his phone on the jobsite. No one dared to tell him to put it away. Toji was the best most competent worker out on the field. He could work circles around supervisors and project managers alike, and he was damn smart. He didn't need a pencil and paper or a calculator to make quick conversions in his head. So, most people stayed out of his way.

He smirked and chuckled at the notifications rolling in from his bank. 78.97 at Target. 21.25 at McDonald's. 43.52 at Barnes and Noble. 9.24 at Starbucks. He was happy you and Megumi were getting to have a little shopping spree.

You were also great at keeping him updated. You sent him lots of pictures and videos of Megumi. He cherished each one of them, immediately getting some of them printed and hung up in his house. There was even a picture of you and Megumi proudly displayed in the living room. In his mind, you were an integral part of the family. The "family" simply would not function if it weren't for you.

A fond smile spread across his face as he opened his messages. A picture of Megumi's little hands trying to fit into his new gloves that she had bought him. Great. She got the right ones. "I think he wants to be just like daddy :)", the message read.

Oh.

Oh.

The twitch that just occurred in his pants should be punishable in a court of law. In no way should he have gotten turned on by that. You were just being nice. It was a normal thing for people to refer to him as "daddy" in that context. It never affected him in the way it was right now.

So anyways, that's how he ended up in the port-a-potty busting a load all over a picture of you that he had on his phone. After the shock of his orgasm that came quicker than ever, he looked down, disappointed in himself. He wasn't some horny teenage boy anymore. This was just downright deplorable. Begrudgingly, he wiped his phone clean from his sins. Post-nut clarity swirled his brain. He couldn't believe he just did that.

He called your number. He had to make things right.

"Hello? Is everything okay?" You immediately asked. After living with Toji for some time now, you learned that he doesn't just call people. He will absolutely decline a call to just text and ask what's up.

"Everything is fine." He replied, trying to hide his amusement. It was cute that you seemed so worried for him. "Are you still in town?"

"Yeah, Megumi and I are about to leave Starbucks and head home. Why? What's up?" You responded back to him. He could hear Megumi happily singing a song in the background.

"You know you spent 152 dollars today?" Toji asked as he popped his back up against the port-a-potty door. He had a lazy smirk on his face.

"Oh- crap. I'm sorry. You can take whatever you see fit out of my pay-" He interrupted your nonsense quickly.

"Do you think I'm poor?" His voice was amused, not angry like you expected it to be.

"What-? No.. no, sir. I was just-"

"I told you to get whatever you and the kid want. Don't come back home until your certain that you can't carry the amount of stuff you bought in one trip." He said quickly. His stomach was already coiling from how you called him sir. He grimaced as he felt another twitch. I just took care of you dammit.

"Oh... oh, okay? Are you su-" Click. He hung up on you. One too many dumb questions. You looked at Megumi as he strapped into the backseat of your car. He looked intrigued by the conversation even though you knew he realistically had no idea what was just said. "Daddy said we have to go to the toy store." You grinned at him. He was smiling and clapping over the word "toy".

234.22 at Toys-R-Us. 122.56 at Lego. 208.38 at Aerie. 88.21 at Ulta Beauty. Another 94.48 at Barnes and Noble.

The way Toji grinned each time he felt that familiar vibration of his phone go off, meaning another notification from his bank was off-putting. Workers on the jobsite never seen him so happy. It was his penance for being such a horny freaky fuck.

*** *** ***

It was later that same evening. Megumi was in the living room surrounded by toys and crafting materials. He was currently drawing all sorts of "shadow animals" as he called them. You would of course look and nod your head, congratulating him on each terribly drawn animal. You acted like that was the best damn wolf-bear-owl hybrid you ever saw.

You were in the kitchen cooking chicken and dumplings. The clock on the stove read seven p.m. You didn't expect to see Toji at all this evening. He said he was working late this morning. Usually, that meant he was dragging his feet in through the door until well past ten p.m.

Still, you made him a serving of chicken and dumpling soup. You always did. Even when he worked late, you would put him a helping of dinner in the microwave to keep warm. You never knew, but he was always delighted by that. He ate the dinners each time.

A key jingling in the door handle caught your attention while you were getting Megumi settled at the dining room table. Three-year-olds were so hard to manage: too small to eat by themselves but too big to be locked in a high chair.

Toji stepped into the living room with a small grunt. He smirked as he looked around at his destroyed living room. Toys, crayons, and pieces of "artwork" were strewn all about the place. He glanced up towards you and Megumi in the kitchen. He took note of how your face was flushed and surprised.

"Papa!" Megumi happily shouted before the little bastard ran from your grasp to go hug on Toji's legs. His dad smiled as he looked down at Megumi, and he used his hand to mess up Megumi's hair affectionately.

"Go eat your food, kiddo." Toji said warmly to his son. Megumi happily obliged and ran right back to his seat right next to you, and you fed him a spoonful of the soup.

"You're home early." You stated the obvious.

Toji would never tell you, but he left early because he missed you two.

"Don't sound too happy to see me." He remarked in a sarcastic tone.

"What-? No, I just.. would've cleaned up more had I known you would be home so soon..." You responded. Megumi was sitting beside you whining for another bite of food. You snapped out of your surprise, and you fed him another bite of chicken and dumplings.

"Why? I don't give a damn what this place looks like." Toji said with a small nonchalant shrug. He walked through the living room, carefully stepping over the toys. Before you had become his nanny, this was how his house normally looked: messy, lived in. "I've got a bowl of dinner in the microwave. My kid's happy and fed. I couldn't care less what that living room looks like."

Your heart fluttered at the sentiment. Toji was easy to please. He really just wanted what was best for his kid, and that was you. "I like making sure you have nothing to worry about." You replied. He looked at you with an unreadable expression. It looked like he might've wanted to say something, but he had backed out last minute. He hummed and walked towards his bedroom to shower the dirt, sweat, and grime from the day.

While Toji showered, you had finished feeding Megumi and yourself. You allowed Megumi to have about an hour of TV time before bed. He really enjoyed old X-Men cartoons. You turned them on for him and parked him on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket.

You hummed softly as you worked in the kitchen. You packed meal prep containers of soup for Toji to take for lunch for the next couple of days. Then, you were washing dishes in front of the sink.

*** *** ***

"I like making sure you have nothing to worry about." Your words repeated in Toji's head over and over like a mantra. He hadn't felt so... cared for in a long, long time. It made his heart feel full, which was an unfamiliar feeling for him. A less unfamiliar feeling was his dick standing fully erect and at attention. He groaned quietly as he leaned his head back in the shower.

Something had to be in the air recently. He was a grown man with desires, sure. But this was a new record for him. Ever since you started being a live-in nanny for him, the boners were a daily thing. Hell, twice or three times a day sometimes. He's tried everything... Well, okay, maybe not everything, but he's tried cold showers and staying away from you. Neither of those things work to soothe him.

His hand was gliding up and down his length for the second time today. He was facing the shower wall with his arm propped up on it, supporting his head. Damn you for making him feel like a slave to his desires. You wanted to make sure he had nothing to worry about? Then, you should be the one in here fixing this damn mess, not him. He pitifully rutted into his hand, imaging he's plunging deep into you. Imagining the multiple ways he'd fuck the hell out of you is the only thing that soothes the ache, but this time he didn't see an end in sight.

He gritted his teeth together, and he balled up his fist, rearing back before stopping himself. He's not a teenager anymore. He can't punch walls. He took a deep breath and turned the shower off. No, this won't do. He needs to fix this at the source.

After quickly drying off and getting dressed, he walked back into the kitchen. His eyes scanned over the house. Megumi was enthralled by the TV, and you were washing dishes. Perfect.

He slowly approached you from behind. He could tell you didn't hear him as you were still softly humming. Usually, you would stop humming if he entered the kitchen. He never understood why. The sounds of your melancholic hums were beautiful and soothing to him.

He was directly behind you, and his hands gently cupped your hips. You immediately flinched and made a soft scream that was quickly silenced by one of his hands. "Shh, we don't want to disturb the little brat, do we?" Toji said into your ear. His warm breath ghosted over the shell of your ear, making you shiver.

Toji's eyes flicked over towards the living room. Megumi hadn't moved an inch. Perfect.

Toji slowly released your mouth. To his delight, you didn't make a sound. He could hear how your breath was slightly labored from him scaring you. A small chuckle rose from his throat. His hands went back to your hips, and he pressed himself against your voluptuous ass. A hum of approval escaped him. He could see your hands gripping the countertops.

"Nod your head. You like this? Want me to keep pressing myself against you?" Toji whispered into your ear. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, and you nodded your head eagerly, giving him consent.

"Dirty fucking girl." His voice was like a growl in your ear as he started to move his hips, dragging his length up and down along you. You could feel each inch of his length beckoning for you. "I knew you'd take whatever I gave you, but this? Letting me grind against you like a pathetic teenager while my son is in the living room? You're such a fucking slut." His hands were digging into your hips as he continued his controlled motions.

"Mnn.. fuck.." You softly whimpered out. Thank god the X-Men were currently in a loud fight scene.

You slightly frowned as you suddenly didn't feel Toji behind you anymore. You were about to turn around and ask what he was doing, but his fingers curling into the waistband of your leggings told you everything you needed to know. "Toji-" You managed to whisper out. No way could you two do this while Megumi was in the next room over.

"Shut up." Toji interrupted you. He had taken his throbbing length out of his sleeping pants, and he had a look of concentration on his face as he angled himself right at your entrance. "You have no fucking idea how long I've needed this. So just be a good girl, shut up, and take what I give you."

Direct orders from your boss. Who were you to deny the man who just spoiled you all day today?

It was a tight fit. Toji wasn't a gentleman. He didn't prep you with his fingers or mouth. This wasn't love making. It was hardly fucking. This was fulfilling a need.

"God... fuck. I didn't expect you to be that tight." He growled into your neck as he held your hips still against him. It felt like he was splitting you apart. You couldn't even respond to him.

He noticed how tightly you were gripping the counter and how you weren't responding to him. Your knuckles were turning white. He almost felt guilty. His hand came around the front of you, and he gently rubbed the swollen bundle of nerves. "Shhh... You can take it. I know you can." He whispered into your ear as it was taking every last shred of self-restraint not to fuck you into oblivion right on this counter. He slowly pulled back until just his tip was inside, and he pushed all the way back in. "That's it. There's my good girl." He praised in your ear. It was not lost on him that he felt you get wetter with each praise.

He hesitated, but he said it anyway, "You wanna be a good girl for daddy, don't you?" He whispered into your ear. That phrase made you tremble in his arms and nod your head. He slowly pulled back out and pushed right back in, taking you slowly. "That's right... hngh, fuck." He moaned into your ear. "You want to be fucked by daddy. You want to take his cock like a good girl. Take it." His hips started to move with more conviction.

You were already so out of it. This was like a dirty fantasy come true. You couldn't help but check the TV a few times to make sure X-Men was still playing. You were still worried that Megumi might run in here for whatever reason and see you bent over in front of his dad. You knew it was unlikely. Megumi could watch that TV like a zombie all day if you let him. Besides, you would be able to hear the small pitter-patter of his footsteps.

"Stop looking at the fucking TV. Trust me." Toji growled into your ear as he forced your hips down onto him roughly. A noiseless gasp escaped you. He wasn't small, and he knew that. He was using it to his advantage.

"Fuck." He groaned quietly as he rubbed you with a bit more fervor. You could already feel that familiar warm feeling coiling in your stomach. "I'm going to fuck a baby into you. You were fucking made for this. Made for raising my kids and taking my fucking load." He was spewing nonsense into your ear, but in the moment, you couldn't help but nod and moan. "You were made for me." He proclaimed as his hips continued harshly snapping into your backside. Somehow the sounds were masked.

"You want that, don't you?" He asked as he bit down on your neck then lapped at the bite mark with his tongue.

"Yes, daddy!" You quietly exclaimed. His thrusts only increased in power. Your eyes started to cross, getting lost in pleasure.

"Fuck. You're gonna look so perfect pregnant with my baby. I won't let you have a break. As soon as one comes out; I'm puttin' another one in you." He continued on yapping about how many kids he was going to pump into you. "I'll breed you again and again." His thrusts were heavy and brutal. You couldn't take it anymore.

He moaned as he felt you clenching around him, finishing all over his cock. It was enough to drive him overboard. He pumped you full of cum until you were sure some of it was seeping out.

There was a peaceful moment of dizzy highness for you two. Toji panted against your back. For the first time in while, he's felt satisfied. A soft amused laugh escaped him as he heard the iconic X-Men episode coming to an end. He swiftly pulled out of you, and he tried to ignore that little whimper of protest you let out. He tucked himself back into his pants, and he pulled your leggings and panties back up for you since you were still a trembling mess over the counter.

"Alright Kiddo, c'mon. Time for bed." Toji said as he sauntered off into the living room as if he didn't just rearrange your guts. He put Megumi to bed that night, and he cleaned up the living room for you, allowing for you to recover in his bed for round two. He was much more of a gentleman for round two.

*** *** ***

"Hey... I know I ain't been to see you in a while. I'm sorry." Toji said as he sat down on the grassy ground. "I was letting life pass me by for too damn long." He said as he took a wet washcloth and began to wash up his late wife's gravestone. "I'm doing better now, so don't worry about me."

"Megumi's growing like a weed. I'm sorry I didn't bring him to see you... I just don't know how to explain it to him." Toji's voice was full of guilt as he dragged the wet washcloth against the stone. "He's a good kid though. He looks just like you, damn bastard." He softly laughed, knowing his wife would've struck him over the side of the head for calling Megumi a damn bastard.

"Listen... I met a girl." He leaned his head over the gravestone. It had been close to three months since you and Toji started sleeping together. There wasn't a formal label to your relationship, but it didn't feel necessary. You two both knew you were sleeping exclusively with each other. "I think you'd like her, or maybe you wouldn't since she's fucking your husband. But either way... I-" He choked up a bit as he held onto the cold stone. "I feel so fucking guilty... I know you're not coming home anytime soon, but I just... I need your blessing. If you can somehow hear me, please... I never asked you for anything until I asked you to marry me. Now, I'm asking... please somehow show me you approve of this."

"She's good for me... She takes good care of Megumi. He's so damn attached to her somedays." Toji softly laughed as he remembered how a few nights ago Megumi crawled into bed with you and him because he had a nightmare. Instead of taking to Toji like he normally does, he crawled into your arms. Toji had never felt so damn proud and slighted at the same time.

"I should get going. Give me a sign though.. Something that tells me you approve." He finished his visit with his wife, and he went home.

*** *** ***

That night at dinner, Megumi sped into the kitchen with an action figure in his hand. He was pretending to be Batman. "Gumi, I've told you three times. Stop running." You said as you gave the small child a look. Toji smirked as he knew that look good and well. It was the look a mom gave as a warning. Megumi was on his last warning.

"I'm sorry, mama." Megumi apologized, causing for both you and Toji to freeze right in your tracks. Megumi had never called you mama before. He always said your name.

Your heart swelled in your chest. It was a feeling of affection and guilt. "Oh no... baby.." You said softly as you took his hand. You lead him into the living room, and you crouched down, showing him a picture of his mom to him. "That's mama." You gently corrected him.

Toji watched the scene like a hawk from the dinner table. His heart was pounding in his chest. He had never been shy about telling Megumi who his mom was, but he hadn't exactly been forthcoming about how his mom passed away when he was a small baby.

Megumi pointed at the picture. "Mama." He said quietly. You nodded and patted his head.

"That's right." You praised affectionately. He then turned his attention to you. and he poked your chest with his tiny finger.

"Mama." He said, pointing at you.

"No-"

"It's alright." Toji spoke up from his seat at the dinner table.

"I don't want him to be confused..." You replied as you slowly stood back up, looking at Toji.

"He doesn't sound confused to me." He retorted with a small grin. You turned your attention back to Megumi, and Toji looked up towards the ceiling. "Thank you." He muttered so quietly before kissing the necklace that hung around his neck. He had his wife's blessing. This proved it.

After finishing his dinner, Toji joined you two in the living room. You and Megumi were curled up on each side of his while watching that old X-Men cartoon. Suddenly, Megumi rose from the couch. You and Toji watched him with a hint of confusion.

"What is he doing?" You softly asked Toji as Megumi bent over, and he looked between his legs at both you and Toji.

"I have no fucking id-" He was about to respond, but then, it hit him. "Get up." He said as he stood up from the couch. He quickly grabbed his phone, keys, and wallet like a madman.

"What? What? Is something wrong?" You asked as you had never seen Toji move this fast. You quickly got up too.

"Nothing's wrong. Come on. We're going to the store." He grunted as he swooped Megumi into his arms.

You were confused and in denial when Toji bought a pregnancy test and made you take it. Now, both of you were waiting outside of the bathroom for the five minutes to be over. "This is crazy, Toji. I'm not pregnant."

"It's an old wives' tale. When babies do that, it's supposed to mean their looking for their sibling." Toji said with a nonchalant shrug as if what he said was matter-of-fact. "My mother told me that's how she knew she was pregnant with me."

The timer went off on his phone, and both of you fought to get into the bathroom first. He eventually overpowered you and snatched the pregnancy test off the counter quickly. "Oh." He said quietly. The room went still.

Suddenly, your heart was racing. "What is it? Is it negative?" You asked a hint of disappointment hit you. You didn't know why, but a small part of you hoped for it to be positive.

"Oh, you're fucking getting it tonight." Toji smirked as he turned the pregnancy test over. Two pink lines were clear as day on the test. You're pregnant.

Tags: @lemonlimecrystal-blog @theuniversesnepobaby

[retiredteabag]

winter weight (nanami ver)

Synopsis: nanami has gained some weight this winter, it seems you don't mind.

based on this fanfic I wrote for Toji which was based on this fanart! thank you @lil-sis for requesting more nanami :,)

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

You had known Nanami Kento for years before you were romantically involved. He had never made an inappropriate comment, always treated you with the utmost respect, and was all-around, the truest form of a gentleman.

For a time, you locked away your feelings for the kind man, sure he could never see you in that way, but little did you know, the man in question hid from your gaze, not because he did not want to see you, but in fear that you would see him. See him for what he was: a man, obsessed.

You had been with Ken for nine months now and he was everything you could want and more. He was communicative, thoughtful, and romantic. He looked at you in a way nobody had before. Likewise, for you, those nine months passed with comfortable ease.

This was your first winter together, and with the changing of the seasons you learned day by day that the man you knew was your life partner. The both of you were homebodies in a sense, however, with the chilly air and light snowfall this week, you were even more keen on a night in together.

You raced around the house, lighting candles, simmering mulling spices on the stove, and laying out blankets for the two of you. The house felt even cozier knowing that Ken was coming to join you.

He had spent the afternoon with his parents and was coming over after having dinner, he told you to eat without him and you had just finished cleaning your plate when you received a text,

"I am on my way now, sweetheart, is there anything you would like from the store?"

Ken was like this, domestic in the way that made you want to bounce around the room. You thought for a moment before deciding you would probably need more eggs. Earlier this week the two of you had planned a movie night, the next morning you were both hoping to bake cookies together while playing board games or taking turns reading to one another.

You informed him of the need for eggs and he told you he would be just a few more minutes. During that time you scrolled through the choices of movies, picking a few for the two of you to choose from.

Despite being together longer than the gestational period for a baby human, you still received butterflies in your stomach at the thought of his arrival. Knowing he was nearly home, you bounded to the kitchen and faced the door, the room smelled delicious, the only thing missing was his presence, and perhaps another layer of clothing.

Even so, you could hear his footsteps approach and knew that the two of you would share a blanket and body heat in no time.

When the man finally opened the door he was smiling shyly, a red dusting across his face from the cold. He wore a long winter coat, and in his arms were a bouquet of flowers and a wrapped gift.

You rushed to greet him, taking the day bag from his arm,

"Oh! Ken, they're beautiful!" You stood on tiptoe as he bent his knee and you kissed his cold cheek. "Goodness, you're freezing! Come in please!"

"Hello, my love." He smiled more broadly now, wrapping his free arm around you, "This if from my parents, but they told me not to let you open it until the holidays."

A warmth ran through you, the Nanami's were all too kind. Kento set the flowers on the counter and stepped toward the coat rack by the door to retire his shoes and jacket.

In the motion it took for him to pull the sleeves off his broad shoulders, you took him in. Leaning on the kitchen counter you allowed yourself to stare at him. His dress shirt was tight on his arms, and his suit pants clung to his thighs. You took a step toward him again.

"I almost don't want you to change, you look so handsome in your work clothes."

"Well, I've certainly put on some weight. These pants hardly fit now." he looks increasingly uncomfortable, not to be in your presence but to show that he was dressed in such a tailored fashion.

"Ken, my dear, you look incredible." You contain the desire to squeeze his thigh by walking to the bedroom and bringing out a pair of sweats and a cotton shirt.

"Although you are a delight to see this way, I'll let you get comfortable." You smile and pinch his bicep.

"Thank you, dear, I don't believe I've ever been so heavy. It's all the good restaurants you introduce me to, perhaps I should get back into the gym." He had grabbed the soft clothes you picked for him and walked into the bedroom to change.

"You're the one bringing me to all those good restaurants so you can't just blame me." You smile from outside the door.

"I'm just grateful you're with me" He laughs, pulling the shirt over his head.

"Ugh!" You exclaim, "Of course, Ken, don't say something so ridiculous." He laughs but you are still caught on what he said earlier. "And don't start going to the gym, you look great, very chewable."

He pops out from behind the door and looks down at you, amused. "I'm not sure how to feel about that descriptor, but if you still like me with extra weight, then I suppose I can remain comfortable."

"Still like you?" You gasp offended, "Ken, I grow more attracted to you every day, I don't care how tight your clothes are, in fact, it's a good look."

He gives you a mischievous face, "Go sit on the couch, pick a movie, stop trying to seduce me."

You laugh, incredulous, "I'm not trying anything, I'm only speaking the truth." You shrug, bounding to the couch and crawling beneath the blanket. Ken brings two mugs of cider before joining you.

That night you lay on his chest, watching a cheesy romance, the both of you laughing at the silly main character. You tilt your head up, to watch his face, your eyes catching the beginning of a few grey hairs dispersed in his blonde hair. You gently run your hand through his undercut.

In that moment, in his arms, as comfortable as you've ever been, you are sure, he is the man you will grow old with.

[writtenbymoonflower]

hey lovey!! 💐 I just wanted to say I ADORE ur writing & I'm currently binge reading all of them <⁠(⁠///￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠///)⁠>. but I did want to request something silly, since I've been thinking about poly!marauders being with the reader. and her calling them "girl" accidentally instead of their usual endearment 😭. and the reason is because her friends use it a lot and it just kind of rubbed off on her ?! I would just like to imagine their confusion 😭 anyways pls have a lovely day/night <33

I love this! Also sorry this took so long. I left my computer charger at home while I was at uni but I got it back!

wc 710

You were laid on the settee, still slightly sweaty from your hot walk back from class. You would’ve reached for Sirius if you didn’t think you would make his clothes damp as well. He was doing some kind of work on his computer next to you while James was in the kitchen fixing you both something to eat. These little quiet moments were sometimes your favorite, just being comfortable in each others silence. Especially considering how your boyfriends could be such chatterboxes.

That didn’t mean that you didn’t enjoy rambling to them, though. You just didn’t feel the need to fill comfortable space with flippant comments. You were almost asleep when you heard the click of the door being unlocked.

Remus stepped inside in his usual meticulous way, hanging his coat neatly on the coatrack, unlacing his shoes and lining them up by the door rather than kicking them off, and placing his crossbody bag carefully on the bench by the door. All before calling out a gentle “I’m home.”

“How was work, love?” James responded from the kitchen, scrubbing his hands in the sink.

“Long.” He groaned. “I’m going to shiv Michael. His unplanned vacation is really disrupting my schedule.” He grumbled. “Going to have to catch up on my classes too.” He sighed, more resigned than annoyed.

“Want me to go to your work when he’s back and give him a hard time?” Sirius said mischievously, beckoning the sandy-haired boy over.

Remus just chuckled softly in response before kissing him on the top of the head. He turned to you, face etched with exhaustion and affection. “How was class today, dovey? Did I miss anything?”

You reached for his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Nothing important. It was just a catch up day.”

He hummed in satisfaction, reaching to stroke your jaw. You leaned into his touch sleepily before your eyes popped open and you jolted upright.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe I almost forgot to tell you. Girl, you will not believe what Molly said to me today. I-“ You were cut off by a surprised, if not amused look on Remus’ face and a barking laugh from the kitchen.

“Excuse me, what?” James choked.

You turned around, looking at him confused. “What?”

Sirius was also smiling, holding back a laugh. “What did you just say to Moons?”

You paused, eyebrows raised in confusion. “I said that he wouldn’t believe what Molly-“

“No no no.” James chuckled, cutting you off. “What you said before that.” At your continued bewilderment he clarified. “Angel, you called Remus ‘girl’. Did you not mean to?”

At the realization on your face Sirius breaks down. Shaking with nearly silent laughter. Remus’ eyes just roll into the back of his head, clearly amused but not willing to put on a spectacle.

“Sorry Rem.” You said, sheepishly. “It was unconscious.”

“Unconscious!” Sirius hoots. “Is that what you call us in your head, gorgeous? Are we your gal pals?”

“I think we are. I didn’t realize this was a girl’s gossip sesh in, lovely.” James teased. “I would’ve bought ice cream and wine.”

“The two of you.” Remus admonished, looking at your still shy expression with terrible kindness. “You don’t need to apologize, dove. It was just funny. You’ve never been one to say that before.”

“Not to you.” You said quietly. “I’ve just been talking to my friends a lot lately-“

“You don’t have to defend it. We want you to talk to your friends.” James jumped in to comfort you.

“I’m glad you consider us your friends, baby.” Sirius said, half kindness and half joke. “It shows that you’re comfortable with us.”

“I am.” You reiterated. “But I won’t call you it if it upsets you.” You said sincerely.

“It hardly bothers me, dovey.” Remus reached over to squeeze your hand.

“I just can’t believe Remus is the girly.” James chuckled, forcing his face into a pout. “I’m offended, sweet thing. I thought I was your gossip buddy.”

“You are!” You said severely. “You all are.” You reached for your other two boys. “Now can I please tell you what Molly said?”

“Of course, girl. Spill the beans.” Remus said, deadpan.

It took you a while to stop laughing before you could continue the story.

[runnning-outof-time]

Tommy & His Girls | Tommy Shelby x Reader

read more of the Girl Dad Mini Series — HERE.

request: yes by anonymous

pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

summary: When things get rough, Tommy can most certainly count on the girls in his life to lighten things up.

warnings: drinking, smoking, Tommy being a horsegirl

word count: 2089

a/n: back at it with another girl dad!Tommy fic - I just love using this little family I’ve created (if you couldn’t tell) I hope you like this installment of their story!! p.s…I’m sorry if the ending’s corny…I didn’t know how to, well, end it. Enjoy!! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Tommy barely said a word as he entered Arrow House. He handed his things to Frances and made a b-line to his study. Things with the business were rough today...they'd been rough for as far back as Tommy could remember. It seemed like he was the only one in the family pulling the weight and that left him feeling like there was war happening inside his head as he made the drive home.

He pushed his study's door closed behind him as he walked into the room, not even caring if the door had enough velocity to latch or not. He trudged his way to his desk after pouring himself a generous glass of whiskey. Half of it was downed in the first drink; he really wanted the pain in his head to cease.

Setting the glass down, he went through the motions of lighting himself a cigarette. The first, deep drag he took finally made some of the noise quiet down.

It's unclear how long he sat like that: slumped back on his chair with a cigarette burning between his fingers. The next time he came to, however, was when the office door opened slightly.

"Dad?" a small voice came from the opposite side of the room, making Tommy sit up straighter in his seat.

"Yeah," he answered, his voice not quite audible. He cleared his throat before responding louder, "yes?" He focused in on the doorway, seeing his oldest daughter, Thea, standing in it.

The young girl said nothing else as she fully entered the room and made her way right over to his desk. “You didn’t come to my room to say hello,” she stated, a slight frown present on her face.

She stopped in front of his chair as she finished speaking, her arms open to show him that she wanted a hug. The second he opened his, she fell into them.

Tommy let out a sigh as he felt the weight of his eldest daughter against him. “Hello, Thea,” he breathed, a sigh escaping with his words. He couldn’t deny the fact that he felt terrible in that moment. He always made sure to greet Thea when he returned home from work, no matter what type of day he had.

How could he have gotten so frustrated that he forgot one of the most important parts of his day?

Thea was the one to break away from the hug — Tommy could have sat there like that all evening if she allowed it — and step back to look at her father.

He watched her, waiting to see what she’d do next. To his surprise, she made her way over to one of the seats that faced his desk and sat down.

The two stared at each other for a few moments longer. Thea looked as if she was studying her father; like she was taking notes on the entire situation. Tommy was quite confused as to why the ten year old wanted to stick around after greeting him.

Finally, after several moments of silence, he had to ask her just that, “why have you decided to stay, love?”

“I was able to tell that you’re stressed out over work, dad. I don’t want to leave you alone,” she answered him, sounding simultaneously like a ten year old and like a person who was beyond their years.

Tommy took a moment to let her words sink in. Then he couldn’t help but smile as a soft chuckle escaped his lips. The innocence that his daughters held despite the line of work their father was present in was always something that grounded him, no matter what was going on. He knew that he could count on it to bring him back down from that position of power to just being their dad.

“You can keep working,” Thea’s voice broke through his thoughts, making him realize that he had been sitting there, staring at her for some time.

Tommy glanced down at the papers that were scattered across his desk. They were covered with statements that he truly didn’t want to read anymore. Then he looked to one of the photographs that sat proudly on his desk. It was of Thea, Evie, and Juni. They were all hugging onto each other and smiling their biggest smiles. His eyes finally moved to Thea, who was still sitting with a smile on her face.

“I can’t work any longer,” he said to her then as he stood from his chair, “let’s go and see what your sisters are doing,” he suggested, his statement making Thea rise from her seat as well.

Tommy and Thea found Evie and Juni playing in the front room.

“Dad’s home!” Thea exclaimed, making the two younger girls quickly turn around.

“Dad!” they both cheered in unison, smiles lighting up their faces.

Tommy smiled as they rushed over to hug him. He could slowly feel the stress leaving his body. “Hello, girls,” he greeted them, rubbing both of their backs as they held onto him tightly.

“Come play, dad!” Juni exclaimed as she pulled away from him to go back to the toys they had strewn about on the floor.

“Have you ladies finished your homework?” he asked the older two before making his decision.

“Course I have,” Evie answered in a matter-of-fact tone, “it was too easy.”

“Mine’s finished as well,” Thea answered with a smile.

“Good,” Tommy nodded, smiling at his girls.

“Let’s play!” Juni shrieked from where she was standing by the toys. By this time she already had one leg in one of the ‘princess dresses’ that the girls had specially made for them. Tommy smiled as he saw the one she’d chosen - it was one that Thea had been given when she was little.

“What game?” Tommy asked, watching as his other girls followed suit and grabbed the things they needed from their toy chest.

“Princesses, of course,” Evie answered like it was common sense….well, in this Shelby household it kind of was. Tommy chuckled at that thought.

“Thea’s the queen!” Juni shouted excitedly.

“She’s always the queen though!” Evie protested, a frown on her face as her hands dropped to her hips.

“I’m the queen because I’m the oldest,” Thea calmly explained to her disgruntled sister, “it’s just one of my jobs as the oldest sibling. You and Juni are princesses because you’re my younger sisters, and you’ll get to be queen once I’m older.”

Tommy couldn’t help but smile as he listened to her explanation. She was truly wise beyond her years, and she handled everything with such grace.

“Fine,” Evie huffed, deciding to accept the decision even though she sounded a little disappointed.

“What’s my part in this?” Tommy asked the three once their conversation had ended.

“The part you always are, dad,” Evie was the one to answer.

“Got it,” Tommy nodded, surpressing a groan as he lowered himself to the floor. I’m getting too old for this, he thought to himself, but he didn’t dare let that feeling show. He’d never turn down the opportunity to play with his girls.

(Y/N) was finally finished with discussing all of the changes that were to be made with the grounds and house keepers. A lot went into preparing Arrow House as one season rolled into the next. Despite the magnitude of the task and all of the moving parts that were involved, (Y/N) would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy overseeing these changes.

Now, however, she was more than ready to get back to her family.

She was able to hear them before she saw them. The giggles of her girls and one of Tommy’s unmistakable impressions. She laughed to herself just hearing it.

The sight she was met with in the front room brought the widest smile to her face. “What’s going on in here?” she made her presence known with a question.

“Mum!” came as a chorus of yells from the three girls as they forgot what they were doing to run and greet her.

“Hello, my darlings,” she greeted them, eagerly accepting their hugs. “What’re you playing in here with dad?”

“Princesses!” Juniper chirped, holding up her wand excitedly.

“Ahh,” (Y/N) nodded in understanding, “and what part is dad playing?”

“He’s the prized horse,” Evie happily answered.

(Y/N) finally looked to her husband. The sight she was met with had her stifling her laughter. Tommy was still down on all fours, and was wearing a rather strained expression as he looked at her through the longer strands of hair that had fallen over his eyes.

“Of course he is,” she finally responded, grinning at him before focusing her attention on the girls. “How about we give him a break now, hmm? Frances has informed me that dinner is ready,” she then suggested.

No pushback was received from any of the girls, who promptly began making their way to the dining room.

(Y/N) looked over at Tommy again. He was now wearing a look of relief, and he matched his eyes with hers again just briefly before he began the process of standing up. (Y/N) couldn’t help but giggle at his predicament, waiting for him to be on his feet again before she started walking to the dining room.

For once, Tommy was actually relieved to have heard that dinner was ready.

After dinner the family decided to go out onto the grounds and enjoy one of the final warm, late fall evenings before winter hit.

Juniper, of course, wanted to go to the stables and check on the horses. Tommy happily took her while the older two stayed back with (Y/N). It wasn’t a surprise, however, when he saw the three cresting the hill to join them in the stables.

Later that night, Tommy was - surprisingly - ready to be in bed at the same time as (Y/N). He helped out with tucking the girls in, wanting to spend as much time with them as he could.

(Y/N) didn’t miss the groan that left his lips as he sat down on his side of the bed. “Not as nimble of a horse as you used to be, huh?” she teasingly commented, biting on her finger to stiffle her giggles when his head snapped to look at her. “Maybe they should put you out to pasture.”

Tommy shot her a look that told her she should watch what she was saying. His look made her giggles escape.

“They’ll still treat you as their prized pony,” she conceded, moving over to where he was so that she could drape her arms over his shoulders. “You know how much they enjoy having you play with them,” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek before she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck.

Tommy smiled at the sentiment, nodding his head slightly as he brought his hand up to set it against the spot her wrists crossed each other.

“I don’t believe I’ve asked you…” (Y/N) started after a few moments had passed. She lifted her head from his neck before continuing, “how was your day?”

A breath of a laugh left his lips and he closed his eyes for a moment, silently recounting his day’s events and deciphering what he wanted to tell her. “I came home stressed, but the girls were able to put me into a better mood,” he decided not to go too far into details, settling with a short summary.

“They’ve stolen my job then, hmm?” her question wasn’t the sort of response that he was excepting, and it was one that had him turning his head in confusion, hoping that she’d offer more explanation. “It used to be my job to put you into a better mood,” she remarked, the smile she was wearing telling him that she wasn’t being completely serious about this.

“All of you girls put me in a better mood,” he responded in a matter-of-fact tone before adding, “don’t know what I’d do without you.”

And that was the truth. Without those girls, he probably would have still been in his office, droning over the same stack of papers and nursing his umpteenth whiskey.

Without those girls, he probably would have had to deal with another night of keeping his demons at bay as the shovels hit against the walls.

Without his girls, he would most certainly be a completely different man than the one he is today.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings

@just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver

@stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder

@cillmequick @strayrockette @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08

@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @mrs-bond

@cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable

@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo @novashelby

[trulyumai]

make that two

—synopsis: yeah, Eddie was down bad. he couldn’t even read a few sentences in before casting his gaze back on you. I mean… could you blame him?

—warnings: none!

—pairings: eddie munson / gf! reader

You sat cross-legged on the floor, flipping through a hefty textbook while Eddie paced nearby, running a hand through his curly hair.

“Okay, so we need to focus on the themes of existentialism in this novel,” you said, trying to keep your tone light. “How about we start with the main character’s struggles?”

Eddie paused mid-pace, his dark eyes drifting toward you. You looked up, and for a moment, the world outside faded. His lips curved into a lazy grin, and you could see the admiration etched in his expression. “Honestly, sweetheart, I think you’re more interesting than this assignment.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, unable to suppress a smile. “Come on, Eddie! We can’t just blow it off. We’ve got to pass this class.”

He sat down beside you, resting his chin on his hand, a teasing spark in his eyes. “Yeah, but look at you! How am I supposed to concentrate when you’re sitting there like the goddess of wisdom?”

You felt your cheeks heat at his compliment. “You’re impossible,” you laughed, nudging him lightly. “Focus, or I’ll start charging you for tutoring sessions.”

Eddie chuckled, leaning closer, his presence warm and comforting. “Alright, fine. Let’s talk about ‘existentialism’ or whatever.” But his gaze remained fixed on you, and it was clear that his mind was elsewhere.

“Eddie,” you said, trying to pull him back to the task at hand. “The themes—”

“Yeah, themes,” he interrupted, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. “But seriously, how do you make studying look so good? It’s not fair.”

You tried to stifle a grin, but it was futile. “You’re just saying that to distract me!”

“Guilty as charged,” he said, feigning a dramatic sigh. “But can you blame me? You’re like a ray of sunshine on a gloomy day.”

You shook your head, exasperated yet delighted. “Okay, Mr. Munson. Let’s make a deal. If you can stay focused for ten minutes, I’ll reward you with… a kiss.”

Silence ensued. You almost wanted to take the words right back before he bolted up.

His eyes widened, and you could practically see the gears turning in his mind. “Ten minutes? That’s a long time in Eddie-world,” he said, puffing out his chest playfully. “But I accept your challenge, fair maiden!”

As you both settled into the assignment, Eddie’s mind wandered again, his gaze drifting back to you. He watched the way you flipped through the pages, the way your hair caught the light, and the soft concentration on your face. It was impossible to focus when you were there, right in front of him, like a muse.

Shit, was he always so.. smitten like this?

“Okay, okay,” he muttered, breaking the silence. “This isn’t working. I’m failing already.”

You giggled, finally meeting his eyes. “You’re such a dork.”

“And you love it,” he shot back, a smirk tugging at his lips. “But really, I can’t help it. You’ve got this… magnetism. It’s like a spell you’ve cast over me. Wait.. you’re not some warlock are you?!”

Your heart raced at his words. And no matter how much you wanted to laugh, you still grunted out a displeasurable sound. “Eddie, focus! We need to get this done!”

With a dramatic sigh, he leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms. “Fine, I’ll focus. But just know that my thoughts are filled with visions of you. It’s your fault I can’t pay attention.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, feeling lighter in his presence. “Alright, one more attempt. Let’s break it down together.”

For the next few minutes, you guided him through the key points of the assignment, his attention wavering but gradually sharpening as you spoke. When you finished, you leaned in closer, a smile on your face. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Not with you around,” Eddie replied, leaning in as well, his eyes sparkling with mischief and admiration. “Now, about that kiss…”

“Eddie!”

….

“…please?”

[ink-n-shadow]

Thinkin’ about Price, who’s on med leave and under strict orders not to engage in any strenuous activity, begging his controversially young wife to take pity on an old man and fuck him.

Your daughter is born nine months later. You like to joke she exists bc your husband was actually home long enough to put a baby in you.

NOW YOU GOT ME THINKIN ANON—

[ MEDICAL LEAVE ] 𝜗𝜚 the one where john's finally home long enough to get you pregnant

𝜗𝜚 pairing: john price x younger wife!reader (reader is afab) 𝜗𝜚 cw: smut (minors—DNI), age gap (price is in his late 30s, reader is late 20s), mentions of surgery/recovery, john having a pain kink (need i say more?), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it/get tapped), unedited as usual, bad ending

"john, the doctor had strict orders for you to—"

you're cut off mid-rant by john slotting his lips over yours, the mitts of his hands covering your cheeks and tugging your face closer to his. his tongue juts out to lick needily at the seam of your lips, the faint taste of the painkillers he had just taken still fresh on his tastebuds only to be replaced by the sweet mint of your toothpaste.

john would've kept kissing you, too, if he hadn't tried to twist his hips over to face you, making him pull away sharply and hiss out at the way the fresh sutures etched in his ribs twinged in pain.

"john—"

"m'fine," john grunts out hoarsely as he lays back down flat on his back, eyebrows pinched low in the middle of his forehead and tongue licking at the remnants of your spit on his lips. "just wanna—christ—wanna be inside ya."

and that’s how you got to your current position, sitting directly behind john’s thick and leaking cock as you lean back to rest your hands on his hairy muscled thighs—anywhere that wasn’t sutured closed or bruised from the surgery he’d undergone. from beneath furrowed brows, your soft eyes focused on the molten heat buoying in his pupils.

“i don’t wanna accidentally hurt you, john,” the end of your sentence comes out pinched in a whine as the calloused pad of his thumb begins circling your sopping clit, your hips jumping at the stimulation and instinctively rolling forward against his sensitive cock.

john uses the thumb petting at your clit to distract you from the way he manhandles you up, notching the head of his cock between your folds and holding you there for a moment. “i don’t fuckin’ care if it hurts, ‘lright? don’t wan’ you stoppin’ until i feel you cummin’ ‘round my cock four times, and i fill up this pretty fuckin’ pussy—understand me?”

and even though john’s cemented into your shared bed on his back, he keeps you all nice and obedient under his thumb, using the hand he keeps groping at your hip as a way to guide the way your movements. every so often, his sutures would twinge in just a way to send a jolt of pain up his spine—but then he would feel your gummy walls gripping his cock just a little tighter, and the pain would warp into delicious pleasure.

you, ever the good little wife you were, did exactly as john told you—only pulling off of him when your fluids were a messy mixture between my thighs and you could barely walk to the bathroom on wobbly legs.

it didn’t even cross your mind when a month and a half later, you’re a mess of hormones and continuous morning sickness that threatens to knock you out from work for a couple days. john tells you it’s fine, that he’ll work some more late nights to cover your income for a couple days, but you’re determined to keep working.

only after nearly fainting at your home one morning (after john fucked you through at least 2 orgasms) did you find yourself on the doctor’s examination table, fingers nearly snapping john’s hand bones in half when he read off the positive pregnancy result.

and when your daughter is born nine months later (december 14th, by the way—a sagittarius baby), you’re curled up in the hospital bed with john holding you closely, the baby sandwiched comfortably between you two and grappling at one of his thick fingers.

“y’know how long i’ve been waiting for this?” you giggle out softly as you nose against john’s beared jaw, eyes fluttering closed and system overflowing with painkillers and endorphins. “guess you were finally home long enough to actually put a baby in me this time.”

[youryanderedaddy]

Oleander

Summary: Nine months ago you killed a man. Now you're sharing a drink with his brother. Life works in mysterious ways. tw: female reader, implied murder, captivity, dub - con, hate fucking, degradation, cruel reader

Sometimes you wonder if you’re a good person. It’s nice, almost, to lose yourself in meaningless philosophical battles in your own mind - it reminds you of high school, of balding teachers making you read Kant and Plato, raving on and on about dead men that will never come back to agree or disagree with the countless pages they made you write about them. It’s easier now, though - easy to lose yourself in semantics, to water down hundred years of morals and ethics into a simple question. Am I, the way I am, the way I’ve always been, good? 

These thoughts always come back when the liquor hits your system. You can’t believe Devan let you drink with him tonight. He must be getting lonely, you realize. Your hands are too shaky and slippery to hold the glass, and you end up spilling half of it over your chest anyways. Your shirt soaks the liquor quickly, and the sharp smell of sanitizer makes you feel as if you’re running through a cold hospital corridor. If you squint, you can almost imagine the needle poking at your vein to draw fresh blood. 

Devan watches you with odd fascination - as if you’re a child learning how to walk, and takes a sip straight off the bottle. Were you any less drunk, you’d be disgusted, yet now all you think about is how he’s drinking more and more of the bitter medicine, leaving less for you. And you need it. God knows you need it.

“Messy, murderous slut.” He mumbles under his breath, reaching out to you with a disoriented shake of his hand. “You ruined my fucking life, you know?” He manages to take a hold of your elbow. You flinch impulsively but his hold, in all its drunken angst, is unrelenting.

“You ruined your own life.” You intend your answer to be playful, but it comes out venomous. Maybe you both need some sleep - too bad the bottle is still half full. You pour yourself some more. “You’re 27 with no education, job or any support network. Even your parents don’t call you anymore, because, well… what even are you without him?” You let yourself get closer to the man - so close you can see his eyes illuminate in fear. His skin is warm like concrete melting under the sun. Tonight you are cruel. Tonight you are free - even as the tears fall down your freezing cheeks. “Admit it.” You inhale so quietly you barely feel your lungs. “You fucking love it.”

Even as his hand connects to your cheek in an audible slap, you can’t help running your mouth off. You are absolutely intoxicated - and the sting feels like a kiss to your lonely, untouched face. How long has it been since someone held you?

“You fucking love that your brother died, deep down. I mean, it’s the perfect excuse, isn’t it? You finally have a reason to be this fucking miserable.” Your smirk, filling up with glee - just like a child torturing a helpless ladybug on the ground, it’s so wrong yet feels so right. ”Besides being a lousy loser, of course.”

“How fucking dare you!” Devin flips you over with ease, throwing you on the ground. There is a raw, animalistic sadness in his big black orbs bleeding into his rage, and it makes it impossible to be scared. Even as his thick fist wraps itself around your throat, it’s hard not to burst into laughter. All the good hazy feelings take over logic and now the bleak feels like a big joke of nature. “Joe was… He… He was…” Everything, he tries to say, but his voice breaks into a pained howl and his breathing shallows before the word can roll off his colorless tongue. For a passing moment everything stills.

“It’s all your fault.” Your captor hisses weakly, his hand trembling around your warm inviting flesh. “I should have killed you that first day… that first night.” His fingers dance around your throat, carefully avoiding your jugular. “It would have been so easy. You do have a beautiful neck.” His voice lowers. “It wouldn’t be hard to–” He squeezes again - tight, tighter, and you see stars. “Maybe then I’ll finally be at peace.” He’s staring at you, intently, but it’s himself he’s talking to. 

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes. You can feel a certain fullness in your sides and a dull pain tugging at your collarbone from suffocation - but your mind can’t wrap itself around a single coherent thought other than to hurt him. It’s like the more you hurt him, the more it hurts inside you. “You can’t kill me.” There is no sass in your tone, no mischief - just plain cold acceptance.

Devin stops in his tracks to stare you down as if you’ve lost your goddamn mind. Then he laughs. He laughs so much his hand slips off your throat and you can finally breathe again.

“And what makes you so sure?” He finally collects himself enough to ask, leaning towards you. If anyone were to see you now, they would think you’re two lovers about to elope. “Because…” You avert your face away from his watchful eyes - there’s something about them, a wild flame that makes you sober up quicker than you’d like. “I’m the only person you hate more than yourself. If you kill me, the game is over.” You give him a sad smile. “And you’re all alone again.”

The man grabs your chin, forcing your lips to pucker up like a doll’s. “Like I need a fucked up bitch to keep me company.” He says, yet he keeps moving your head up and down as if he’s inspecting you for damage. As if he cares if you’re bruised, as if his fingers want to feel you for just a second longer. “Then let me go.” You bite back, and you watch his face go dark like a night sky. “No.” The boy - man shrieks, holding onto your arm for dear life. It hurts… but it’s also warm and tight - like an embrace, but not quite. “You deserve to suffer.” He quickly adds, pulling you closer to him. “Then torture me.” You add more fuel. “Do something. Anything.” You sink your teeth into his knees. “For once in your shitty miserable life do so–”

He kisses you. 

You don’t know how to describe the kiss. It’s neither passionate, nor aggressive. It’s desperate, yet it lacks strength. It’s a rushed thing. It’s a memory reminiscent of summer - in a quiet village, after an atom bomb. His lips are the flowers that eventually bloom before they’re stomped by soldier boots. You’re the half - lit match that turns it all to ashes. Your bodies are meant for destruction, and that’s why they fit together perfectly. 

“Let me have you.” He almost pleads once you separate, breathless, on the brink of insanity - as if he isn’t already there. His hands are on both sides of your waist, squeezing so hard it hurts, unstable fingers ready to grab and grope at any shape malleable enough. 

“No.” You wince, but your eyes remain cold and challenging. “Fuck you.” Devin replies, roughly spreading your thighs apart. “Fuck you.” He repeats as he rips into your throat, dragging his teeth against your sweet spot, making you really feel the sharp points tearing into your soft vulnerable skin. The thought of leaving his mark on you makes his stomach turn - and it terrifies him. You try not to look down, but you hear his belt hit the ground and soon his pants follow suit - and then you sense it right against your entrance. Sticky slick whiteness coats your white panties as it drips from the purpling tip so full it might burst by the friction alone.

His hard length rubs along your wet slit and with clenched teeth you anticipate the burn of the stretch, the way he’ll rip your underwear from you, your last protective shield - but it never comes. Yet you see it move in and out, in and out of you rhythmically. You can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, his rasp groans into your ear, his hands moving your torso back and forth like a carousel. You finally look down. 

He’s fucking your thighs - through your panties, no less. 

“Hold your legs together.” The man barks at you, but his voice is so needy you can’t help giggling even as he manhandles you around like a ragdoll. “T-tighter.” You squeeze your thighs snuggly against his cock - and you hope it hurts him more than it hurts you. You throw your head back, leaning on his shoulder as you jeer gutturally, letting it all out in systematic bursts of laughter that sound more like black cigarette coughs. Or puffs. “God, you’re so pathetic.” You lazily stroke his shaft as it peeks down your stomach, oozing with pre - cum. “I bet your brother would have fucked me like a real man.”

He moves your head to the side with a brute slap, kissing you sloppily anywhere but your mouth - but it still does the trick of shutting you up. “Too bad he’s dead.” He leaves a trail of wet pecks down your throat. Your stomach is sticky. You feel disgusting. “Guess you’re mine now.”

You roll your eyes.

“Dream on.”

[dropsnectar]

Your Puppy Siren!: When a Siren becomes a House Husband

PART TWO

NSFW

Obviously, when Baby got his legs, you couldn't just abandon him. You weren't sure exactly what was next for the two of you,, so you took it one step of a time. Baby had an issue with that, as balance wasn't necessarily a skill he could magic up with his oceanic enchantments.

He leaned on you the whole way home, taking jerky steps through the grasses.

When you showed him around the house, and the first thing he did was ask where you slept. You had shown him your bedroom and he immediately made himself comfortable about the blankets and pillows. You set him up with a copy of ‘The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe”, before going to make him dinner: mild Japanese curry. 

It was mostly vegetables, as you had only had a few ounces of ground beef left, but you hoped his stomach was as human as his now legs. His whole body had changed, leaving him now almost albino pale, with large dark eyes that were still a bit too big for his human face.

When you went to walk him to the dining room table, you found him standing, holding the book to the ceiling as he read. He was leaning back and forth on each foot, as if the movement kept him upright. Perhaps he still had his sea legs under all that new skin. 

He still needed your help to get to the table but his steps were more sure now. He ate the food happily, making sure to compliment you whenever possible. On the way back to your room, Baby could now keep his balance as he went. The first thing he did was gather as many pillows and blankets as he could from the living room, before leading you by the hand to your room, and arranging them further on the bed.

“Do you like it?” He asked, eyes eager. It had never occurred to you that Sirens may nest, but you took it in stride.

“It looks very warm.” you apeased, tired. 

Sleeping on the nest didn't go as bad as you thought, but Baby had been a bit confused when you had tucked a blanket around the two of you

“It's to keep us warm.” 

He had responded by pulling you to his arms and wrapping his legs around you.

“I can do that just fine.” He beamed. You laughed and let him hold you as you fell asleep. You could figure out Baby's fate tommorrow.

You had always pushed off the deciding of Baby's fate to tommorrow. You couldn't face it. Going to your part time job, then nursing school had been difficult for you. You were exhausted everyday you came back home.

Baby made himself as useful as he could. You had taught him some of the basics of cleaning the house. He had seemed somewhat confused by the idea of cleaning, but he took it upon himself to make sure the place was gleaming when you got home. You had taken him to the library a day after his legs sprung up, and he had carried home a pile of books, one of them being “Martha Stawarts Complete Guide to Housekeeping”.

 You hadn't resided in the place long, but places you hadn't even realized were dirty were suddenly sparkling and smelling lightly of lavender and orange peels. 

He had also brought home a whole pile of fish. It seemed that he could now shift his form back and forth at will. You remember coming home, sweat covered and in need of ibuprofen, when you found a pile of fish on the kitchen table. He had looked so proud if himself.

“We can keep them all in the freezer! What a useful device!”

You had gently taken his arms in hand and explained that humans weren't able to eat fish whole like sirens could. They had to be stripped of their scales and deboned. He seemed a bit tired by this, yet another a strange human quirk, but had taken it in stride. Per his request you had set him up with an instructional video on the subject. 

He seemed to catch on pretty quickly, the only difference was that rather than using a sharp knife, he had preferred to use his talon like nails. They were retractable, he clarified later, and arguing they were cleaner than any knife when you had demanded he washed his hands before working.

“They will only get dirty again anyway!” He had argued, one of the few times he had ever done anything but smile at you. The concept of germs was met with raised eyebrows and apprehension. 

For the first time in your life, you gave him “the look”. As this seemed to be a communication move that spanned species, he gave in, washing his talons? Claws? Before going back to his work.

A silent system had begun to flesh itself out. You brought home the money and groceries, and did most of the cooking, he did everything else. And anything you asked of him. Which wasn't much, but he became more and more useful by the day. 

You couldn't help but feel a bit proud for Baby. The more you learned about him and Siren Life the more different the two of you seemed. But he had been adjusting so well, you almost didn't have to worry about him. Plus, it was hard to be mad at someone who made a point of taking care of you, like he did. 

He gave you shoulder messages, microwaved old dinners when you didn't feel like eating. Hed shush you, and sometimes carry you to bed, petting your hair and singing you to sleep everytime everything felt like too much. And that was often. 

It had been a week since he had taken up shop in your bedroom, and reality reared its big fat head like a snake. You had been whisked away to bed, and instead of cooing at you and humming that impossibly sweet voice of his, he had started to nibble on the side of your neck, hands reaching towards your pajama shorts. His tongue felt so incredibly good, and his touch was like silk, but you knew where this would leave.

“Stop. We don't have any protection.”

He had frozen and blinked at you, expression changing to the barely concealed mask of an adult trying to not laugh at a child's sudden declaration.

“If I sense any danger, I will deal with it immediately. Now come here…” His voice grew husky. You trailed back.

“I know we haven't talked about this before but what if… well you're a human so im not sure if it'll be the same but… I can't get pregnant. I don't know if it works the old fashion way or you might lay eggs in me or something but… we need to be careful.”

He was still smiling but he was biting his lip. “While I DO lay eggs, that part of me hasn't changed, I don't understand why it would be an issue. I am your husband, after all, shouldn't it be normal to have children at some point?”

“H-husband? Why do you think you're my husband?”

Babys face changed, the closest you had ever seen him get to upset. “We mated, we share a nest, how am I NOT your husband?”

“We had sex, yeah, but we didn't get married. Do Sirens mate for life? Is that why you think this?” 

His expression grew animated and confused.

“Sirens do not mate for life, we have breeding seasons. But Humans mate for life, do they not? Why do you think I have been doing all this? I mean, I even made you a nest and you slept with me in it! How much more is their to a human marriage ritual?” 

You stared at him, the realization dawning. You slowly put your hand over his and arranged your expression to one of patience.

“Humans used to mate for life. But ita a bit different now. We can have sex, even spend years courting before we agree to marry.”

Baby just stared at you, his confusion and anger turning to one of hurt.

“B-but what does that mean? I told you, I love you. I want to be with you.” He leaned forward tears starting to glisten at the corner of his eyes.

“I wanted a life with you. I threw my old life away the moment I got these legs. I have no idea where my pod is now, I can not return to them. I do not wish to return. I want to stay here, with you and be your mate.” He nuzzled his nose against yours and then took your cheeks in his hand. He gazed into your eyes, filled with longing.

“I may be new to being your partner; at being Human too. But I will do whatever you ask of me. Please. Be mine?” 

He started to kiss your forehead. Then your eyes. Then your cheeks. His gaze strayed to your lips and he whined out, full blown tears now streaming from his eyes. 

“I'll be so good. So good for you.” 

Your heart went out to him. You had to admit, life had gotten so much easier to bear since he had entered it. No one could make you laugh like he could, could make you as curious as he could, could kiss you like he could. 

You thought about it. Genuinely thought about it. You had a job, and nursing would pay you enough to pay for both of your lives once you started. You'd have to teach him how to properly navigate human society but he was so smart and charming, you were sure he would do so well. You came up with so many reasons why it could be doable, but the most important one was you didn't want to let him go.

“It'll be really hard for you. Are you sure you want this?” You whispered. “Want… me? You could spend the rest of your life sharing your season with mate after mate. Are you sure you would want to spend the rest of your days with me?”

He looked at you with intensity, the light finally dawning across his features. 

“It will always be you.” And then he was on you. Was kissing you.

He was quick to take off your clothes, and did the same. His mouth was hot and needy, the feeling of his tongue in your mouth being everything you could ever want. That was except for one or two other places. 

As if he could read your mind, he grinned, pulling himself down to stare at your groin, fingers grasping, teasing and exploring every sensitive curve and crevice. Then he got to work with his mouth and you groaned, your core turning molten. You could hear the noises of his mouth on your flesh, and it made your cheeks overheat. 

His tongue glided around you as he sucked with his full mouth, making you shake and jerk under him. He made sure to pin you down with his hands now, before he started to trill and sing around you.

You chocked, pushing your hips up against his big string hands, which were now a mix of grey and white. It seems he had been riled up to, as his form was caught halfway between human and Siren. It was a new sight and he was absolutely gorgeous and one long note made you crash over the edge, toes and fingers curling. 

The whole time his eyes were on you, gauging your reaction. He continued to auck you through the high but now started clawing at your entrance, circling slick little shapes. He seemed to take great joy in this, teasing your ache, before he plunged his fingers in making you choke and sigh all at once. When he was certain the area was worked enough, he gave you big puppy dog eyes. 

“Can I be yours again?” He whispered huskies slowing the rate of his fingers. You nodded and he pulled himself up, pumping his own cock a few times making sure it was properly slick. His cock was half transformed too. It was extremely veins and the ridges weren't as pronounced, but he was thicker. You licked your lips as you remembered how he felt inside you.

Aware that you were watching him he keened in pride. He then slowly inserted himself, pushing further and further until you took every inch of him. You gasped out and clawed at the sheets in pleasure as he pumped you, his own eyes glazing over as he unleashed low, pornagraphic moans. He was louder than he had ever been, snapping his hips into yours, fingers clutching deep into skin. He looked completely blissed out as he rocked himself into you, huffing and moaning.

“Sound. So. Beautiful.” You breathed, knowing he was getting close. You could feel a heaviness now in the air. He wouldn't be able to help it. He'd be so drunk he'd use that song of his and you'd cum and cum for him until he was too far in exctasy to make any noise. And you were right.

You could tell he was holding it in. But he couldn't help but hum out, a song that seemed to cup and penatrate your very soul, making your entire mind stuffy and silly. You didn't want him to stop, going over the edge as another one of his moans turned into a full blown note. He kept bucking into you, skin slapping skin, as he keened and hummed and sang out for you. He wanted you to feel good. Wanted you to cum and feel good only for him. Because you were his.

When you felt his cum splash inside you it was warm, and more sludge like. It took a while to seep put of you. A comedic point in the back of your mind noted, “No eggs”. 

He pulled himself to your side, pulling you tight to him. “Can… can I stay in you for a while?” He said it in a light begging tone. You nodded, a pulse of faraway pleasure as he pushed his soft dick inside you again. It felt nice, being one with him in this sweet comfortable moment.

You wanted to ask him about the magic, about the song and how for just a moment, it was like you could read his mind. But their was something so special about the moment, you didn't want to push him too far. Maybe next time, you could egg him on to use that power on you, to be completely encompassed by his pleasure and song. 

“I know your tired, and we can wait but… can we do it again?” He pushed his nose to yours and traced it up and down, his eyes watery and begging. You could feel his dick twitch inside you. 

“Please just let me spoil you. It is our wedding night after all…”

You had to stop yourself from correcting him. Tomorrow you would explain vows and wedding ceremony, but for now you'd just give in. But you had to admit, now a big piece of you belonged only to him.. So, in a way he had been right.

[tpwk-formula1]

Hello! I'm a sucker for menu style requests, expect more of me lol

I would like a gluten-free pizza with red sauce with roasted peppers and pulled pork, plus a mango smoothie with no dessert. All served by Oscar Piastri

I've read a couple of your fics, and they're really good! Keep it up <3

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

gluten-free enemies to lovers red sauce rough sex roasted peppers "Such a good whore" pulled pork "God, I love when I fuck the attitude out of you" mango smoothie baby trapping dessert yes served by Oscar Piastri

Oscar x Fem! reader

TW mention of pregnancy, creampie, unprotected sex, fingering, orgasm description, MDNI 18+

WC 1200+

Y/N POV

"Oscar, get ready now. You need to be in the Fan Zone in less than 15 minutes and I'm not fucking sprinting there this week," I snap at Oscar after having found him asleep in his driver's room when he was supposed to be getting ready to go on stage.

"Go away, Y/N! I'll be there on time," Oscar groans back turning his back towrds me making me march over to the Aussie, where I pull him arm slightly.

"Let's fucking go. I'll be damned for you're the fucking reason I get fired," I snapped again while attempting to yank him out of the bed again.

"You do realize my pinky has more strength than your entire body?" Oscar says while looking up at me softly.

"Please, Osc, we need to go," I ask back cleanly getting desperate.

"Fine, but when I'm done I want you back in here with me," Oscar says with a small smirk playing on his lips. I just groan but agree knowing how it goes for Oscar and I.

"You know you love when I use that little body of yours," Oscar whispered in my ear as we walk towards the Fan Zone making my face grow hot but I just laugh lightly trying to play off the moment like Oscar had told a joke since did have eyes on us.

"Get on stage and behave, and then we'll see about me coming back to your room," I tell him softly while standing backstage to make sure I was close to everything in case Oscar or Lando needed something but far enough away not many people could see me.

When the boys finally wrapped up both of them head back off stage and we all quickly usher ourselves back to the garage where we could finally wrap up for the day and head back to the hotel to get ready for race day tomorrow.

"You're coming to my hotel instead. I wanna take my time," Oscar whispers in my ear making me groan and roll my eyes.

"Drop the fucking attitude," Oscar whispers in my ear before we both go separate ways.

When I get back to my hotel room I quickly change out of my McLaren uniform and into a pair of sweats and a tank top before walking out and down the hall towards Oscar's room.

I knock on the door softly when Oscar opens the door and quickly pulls me into his room and in for a kiss.

"Fuck, I've wanted to do that all day," Oscar groans while guiding me toward his bed.

When he gets me on the bed he instantly slips my sweats off leaving me in my tank top and thong.

"Holy fuck Oscar, I've been in your room less than 3 minutes, have some fucking decorum," I gasp when he leans down and takes a teasing lick at my thong-covered pussy.

"I've waited all day 'cause someone insisted work was more important than coming over this morning," Oscar says while sending a slap down on my inner thigh.

"And drop the fucking attitude," Oscar says before sending another slap down on my inner thigh.

"Osc, please," I whine lifting my hips and trying to get Oscar where I need him.

"So fucking needy! You just told me to have decorum," Oscar says with an eye roll but still proceeds to rip off my thong tearing it to shreds.

"OSCAR! That's the third fucking pair this week," I complain but am quickly shut up by Oscar's mouth on my pussy making me moan loudly.

"Just shut up," Oscar groans burying his face back into my pussy. Oscar knew what he was doing, he knew all the spots to hit with his tongue that would leave me with shakey legs and begging to cum for him.

"Oh, Osc," I scream when I feel Oscar roughly shove 2 fingers deep into my pussy making sure to graze my G-spot.

"Fuck, I love when you get close," Oscar groans making me whimper from the vibrations on my clit.

"Cum for me," Oscar says while speeding up his actions sending me into a shaking orgasm.

"Fuck," I cry out starting to try and get away from Oscar's quick and relentless fingers.

"Stay fucking still," Oscar roughly tells me while using his free hand to send a harsh slap down on my inner thigh.

"Osc, too much," I beg trying to get away only resulting in Oscar roughly pulling his fingers out and shoving them into my mouth.

"Fucking finally some silence," Oscar tells me while sending another slap down on my thigh. Oscar makes quick work of taking off his clothes and roughly burying himself deep into my pussy and giving me a few seconds to adjust to his size.

"Fuck, how do you get tighter the more I fuck you," Oscar groans when he starts rocking his hips clearly getting lost in the pleasure.

"So good, faster please," I praise and beg needing more from Oscar.

"Such a good whore," Oscar groans making me whimper when I feel his fingers back on my clit only adding to the pleasure.

"I love feeling you clench around my cock, lets me know you're just a little slut ready to cum whenever I want," Oscar tells me only speeding up his actions and bringing me impossibly closer to the edge. Oscar knew I was gonna be cumming for him if he kept up his actions so he slowed down just a bit.

"NO! Osc, please," I shout out not happy with being denied the orgasm that was so close I could practically taste it.

"You'll cum, but when I'm ready," Oscar tells me making me whimper.

"Please," I begged while trying to sneak a hand between our bodies but Oscar quickly caught both of my hands and pinned them above my head where he continued to pound into me.

"Osc, I need it," I whine again for him.

"I'll do anything," I continue.

"God, I love when I fuck the attitude out of you. One second you're being a little bitch and the next you're like putty in my hands willing to do anything to cum for me," Oscar scoffs making me whine and continue to buck my hips trying to cum for him.

"Go on, cum for me," Oscar finally says while letting go of my hands and bringing one of his down to play with my clit while he brings me over the edge in a screaming orgasm.

I feel Oscar start cumming deep in my pussy making me whimper at the feeling of being filled up with his hot cum.

"God, I would love to watch you get pregnant with my child," Oscar says with a smirk while falling next to me in pulling me in for a chest.

"I would ring you for all your money," I joke with a smirk on my face only making Oscar roll his eyes.

"I would very much be involved in my child's life. But by all means you can have my bank account if you carry my babies," Oscar tells me making me shake my head. It was a conversation for another day.

[shriveled-grape]

Thinking about Ratio and Owl courtship behaviors.

Just because. They’re on the mind.

Bringing food

While it’s my personal opinion that Aventurine eats breakfast and dinner (at the very least because of his cakes), I think he overlooks lunch quite frequently. He just doesn’t feel hungry until his stomach is screeching at him to eat. It’s just one of those things—it’s a ‘okay, we actually have a stable food source’ thing.

Still—not a very good habit to overlook. It’s not like he’s doing anything to help it either, no alarm or anything. Just looking at the clock and going ‘well shit lunch was a while ago… whoopsies might as well wait till I get home’. (I don’t think Aventurine wants to take his work home, if he’s off the clock he’s off and Qiploth help the poor IPC worker that has to contact him outside work hours if he’s needed—so, he’d rather continue his workflow instead of risking going over his hours.)

While I’m not entirely sure how this habit will get picked up on (perhaps there’s frequent meetings with the IPC before lunch hours and rather than make his way to the lunch area, Aventurine is making his way back to his office.

“Gambler, the lunch room is this way.”

Immediate heel turn. “Inviting me to eat with you, Ratio?” Suddenly he’s extremely aware he’s hungry.

Eats like a man starved.)

but Ratio picks it up one way or another. He goes about it indirectly (for the most part), either striking up a dialogue that requires Aventurine to accompany him to the lunch room or finding a reason to be in Aventurine’s office with (coincidentally) more food than Ratio is able to consume and an extra set of utensils because ‘reheating the food won’t taste the same, and they say a good meal is better with company’ (sounds like bs — the latter part not the former, but Aventurine doesn’t comment on it because hey—more time with his favorite doctor).

Eventually this becomes habit. Ratio bringing Aventurine to a food source (the lunch room, or perhaps a nearby cafe/restaurant/etc) or bringing him food. It’s—ha—a gamble. One that Aventurine looks forward to everyday around lunch time.

Cheek-to-Cheek nuzzling

Of course, this one would be when there’s an actual relationship. This one feels more private/intimate so really it’s saved for when they’re both alone together.

The first time it happens is when they’re both in bed together, not exactly cuddling but still being in each other’s arms. Aventurine’s on his phone, Ratio’s reading an (exceedingly long) book. (I wonder if Ratio would read like Reid from criminal minds… anyways—.)

It’s a spontaneous thing. Ratio kisses Aventurine’s cheek SOFTLY (extremely important.) then turns his head and rubs his cheek against Aventurine’s before turning back to his book.

Aventurine’s stunned for a bit, processing if that. Really just happened. He’s not complaining of course! He’s just. Confused. A bit. His cheeks are warmed up now, but he just laughs a bit.

“Never did I think you’d be so touchy, Ratio.”

“Heh.”

That’s it. That’s the entire exchange that just makes Aventurine roll his eyes with a smile before going back to his phone.

It becomes a mutual thing after that. Before one of them heads off to work, when one gets home, when they wake, before they sleep, or just spontaneous. Just like the first time.

Preening

Humans don’t have pin feathers (I would. I would hope.) so I’m going about this a couple of ways.

Ratio trying to smooth down stray hairs on Aventurine’s head. Say it’s the middle of a work day that Ratio happens to be there and he notices some hair frizz on Aventurine’s head that he smooths down. (Doesn’t stop his conversation just reaches over and smooths it down like he’s not doing anything out of the ordinary. Aventurine: ?????? Lol okay???). Or before Aventurine leaves for work Ratio fixes a couple strands before sending him on his way.

A thought that came to me is Aventurine getting a cowlick whenever it rains on the back of his head. Ratio continually trying to smooth. It. Down. But it just doesn’t want to. It frustrates him and Aventurine can’t leave the house until it’s tamed. (This is how you know he loves this man because it’s setting the time he has to finish his workload back either 30 mins to an hour). Prior to their relationship, Aventurine would’ve just worn his hat, but now that’s only if the doctor has given up… which is extremely rare.

The last way is through Ratio absentmindedly twisting (rubbing???) strands of Aventurine’s hair between his index and thumb (much like a human would preen a bird’s feathers). This is easier if they’re laying somewhere together (if Aventurine is the one holding him he simply reaches behind him). This method is a comfort thing, me thinks.

Aventurine thinks it’s cute.

Hooting duets

For this one, I think is the silliest. Because it’s just them going back and forth with each other.

They’re bantering!! And it’s subconsciously Ratio’s love language (except it’s only. With Aventurine).

Aventurine keeps him on his toes and gives wit that parallels Ratio’s that sometimes leaves him speechless before he composes himself (this is unprecedented. If there are people in attendance they are shocked. Well, for the first couple times).

They don’t shut up if they’re with each other, this only heightens when they are actually together… which honestly isn’t a big change.

This is the courtship that lets everyone know Ratio is interested in Aventurine (in some way, they aren’t sure what for a good while) … except Aventurine.

Everyone sees them pining. And it. HURTS.

But yeah, that’s what I got…

This was supposed to be a short thing……

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hey um, what if the Overblot boys told each other their backstories?

Mmm… Well firstly, I think it would take a lot of effort to arrive at a point where all of the OB boys would even feel comfortable being that emotionally intimate with the others. Many of the OB boys are highly guarded and resistant to putting themselves in compromising positions. For example, I can easily see Azul being paranoid that the others would use his background as blackmail; he would not risk having his own vulnerabilities becoming public knowledge. Would Leona really be okay with being sentimental in front of various people he dislikes, especially Malleus and Vil? Would Idia feel safe unpacking his trauma and grief in front of his peers? Etc, etc, etc.

Secondly, I think that even if the OB boys were hypothetically at the point where they were okay sharing their backstories with the others, it wouldn’t change much about their immediate circumstances?? The OB boys generally don’t strike me as particularly… empathetic? At least not automatically empathetic. It’s something they would need to put effort into and actively work on. I imagine that they’d otherwise just pull a Zuko-style “That’s rough, buddy” or potentially even say something tactless that rubs their peers the wrong way (for example, not fully understanding the situation or even downplaying one another’s trauma). Riddle (someone with very little to no experience with social media and entertainment mediums) might not get how being a celebrity influences Vil’s life, Leona might insult Malleus (someone whom he has a bone to pick with), everyone might still be upset with Malleus for what he did to them in book 7. etc. Each OB boy only has their own experiences as the lens through which they see and interact with the world, and it’s not that easy for just anyone to put themselves in the shoes of another person.

Hearing a (for lack of a better term) traumadump doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll connect with it or understand just how grueling it was for the person who experienced said trauma. It would usually take a significant amount of time and reflection (ideally facilitated by a licensed mediator or professional) to digest those stories in group therapy and to make sure that everyone actually understands one another. A surface-level story retelling alone in most cases isn’t (again, for lack of a better term) “enough”, especially with how self-centered, emotionally immature, and different many of the OB boys are.

Think of empathy like a skill or a muscle. It isn’t innate. You need to develop it and train it, and not putting it to use can lead to atrophy. And given how arrogant and independent your usual NRC student is… yeah, it’s definitely going to be something for them all to work on.

If you want to think of it another way, it’s like how different players will react differently to reading the OB boys’s backstories. Someone who experienced bullying similar to Azul could more easily empathize with him while also not fully “getting” the full scope of other stories they hear. Maybe they can’t understand why Riddle still cares about the mother who mistreated him. Maybe they don’t see why Jamil sacrifices so much for his family. It doesn’t make the player a bad person for not understanding all the stories, it simply means they have a limited perspective. The same is true of the TWST characters; they, too, have incomplete points of views.

Maybe knowing their backstories in advance would change some scenes in small ways (such as book 6, when they split up and then butt heads with each other). They’d know where the other boys were coming from, and how that informs how they act in present day. However, I maintain that I think not much would change from the original. In a stressful situation like book 6, they could easily slip up and say something insensitive/make assumptions about their behavior based on their background/overlook or not even consider their background in the first place since they’re so focused on the current task. For example, Azul, feeling insulted that Riddle is underestimating him, could make a snide remark that just because his mother was a control freak doesn’t mean Riddle also has to be. Jamil could still see Leona as a spoiled prince because, despite being treated like an outcast, he still grew up in immense privilege as royalty. They can so easily fixate on their own interpretations of events that it colors how they perceive others, rather than how they can relate to others no matter how similar or dissimilar their experiences were.

In other ways, I think the OB boys sharing their backstories with one another stifles potentially meaningful development. Character growth in TWST isn’t a sprint, it’s a marathon, and we’re here for the long haul. What does depositing all the backstories in their laps achieve for the OB boys? It artificially puts them in a situation to “better know” their peers rather than let it happen organically or allowing them to grow closer through their own efforts. Let’s look at the Deuce-Epel beach scene from book 5. Do you think it would have been as impactful of a scene if Epel explained his life in the countryside and how he got his traditional views on gender norms to Deuce? Personally, I don’t think so. The scene we currently have has them bonding and connecting through a shared activity (shouting at the sea), then having a heart-to-heart without a heavy backstory exposition. It’s through that, not explicit backstory sharing, that the two form an attachment and become genuine friends.

Those are all my thoughts!! ^^

[boowritess]

i love love love the headcanon of the 141 not having kids and babies and ewey.

i think that john price is still very relevant to that. kinda. i don't really seeing him having a pet honestly. unless you wanted one... sure... but nah y'know... he's old tired af. maybe a cat. probably definitely a cat.

but it's been you and john for as long as you can remember.

happy to be in each other's presence from morning to night, or simply just exist in a shared life that means you two don't have to always be around each other.

you could be shopping and he could be sleeping. he's outside tending to the stuff he had supposed to finish before he left deployment while you're reading on the couch inside. he's on a long deployment again, and you're at work.

plus the prospect of kids just never seemed to work into the schedule. "nah," john says to one of your friends, "can handle kids fine, but when i'm home, this old mans bones are good for sleep and not much else. i mean the breeding kink can get me goi-" john grunts when you elbow into his side.

"crude." you huff with an eyeroll.

"but true." he says into his beer as he takes a sip, eyes sparking with mischief.

your friend turns to you. "but doesn't it get lonely?" they asks. "wouldn't you want a little one running around?"

and well sometimes the days may be lonely for you when he's gone...

but that's become impossibly hard to focus on when your phone is being constantly blown up - not by price though. by the 141.

it's never really anything outrages or civil conversation. it's gaz asking which tie he should wear at an event because price said the black one but gaz doesn't really like the black one. then it's johnny sending you a video of him besting his previous time on a training course. though it doesn't stop there. ghost is messaging late nights for him but mid-day for you, asking about how to deal with insomnia. ghost is asking you because he knows you're awake and the others are asleep, he doesn't want to bother them.

you answer every single one, with so much care and attentiveness. you save every picture, every video and boost about their achievements to other people as if they were your own. however, people always assume you're talking about little kids not grown ass men.

yet on days when you're at home or you've come home from work. you're hardly surprised to find one of them had invited themselves into yours and johns home as if it was their own.

sometimes it's gaz crashed out on the couch who's in a desperate need of a shower but definitely needs sleep more.

or the sounds of soap in your fridge, raking around to find something to eat. "lass, ye out of cheese-" he ate the cheese. the whole newly bought block of it.

gaz and soap like to hover around you when they're home. whereas ghost helps price around the house.

but when it's just you and ghost, the oldest boy. it's quiet. there's no forced conversations but probably a few shitty jokes. it's you or him making food and the other doing the dishes. yet ghost opens up and the conversations turn into some of the most randomist, boyish, silly conversations.

when everyone's at home, it can actually be pretty hectic. so you go do the grocery shopping, but you take ghost along cause he's a little like you in regard for a need of quiet time.

oh and can't forget the days you go out by yourself only to come home with a few other things. socks for john - socks for all of them. you bought johnny a new pair of jeans and gaz a couple of shirts. and simon some more sweaters.

christmas, easter, new years - every single holiday is always hosted at yours and price. where everyone comes. farah, alex, laswell and her wife. rudy and alejandro making their way- then of course your boys...

and it's there where you've kinda realized.

you and john do have kids.

just in the form of grown men.

which both you and john don't seem to mind.

you end up shrugging your shoulders as you look at your friend, "honestly i have my hands full when they're all home. so... i'm good." you say with a hum, sipping from your own drink with a small smile as john just chuckles softly.

a/n: realized I never posted this. oh well. the no baby saga continues with john price. drink water be well ya'll xx

[typing-catastrophe]

I have been so cooked for this man lately that I need to talk about him— I genuinely think that with a ADHD/autism/AuDHD partner Ford takes notes on your stims and quirks, even before any serious relationship. Just little things like “waves hands when excited :)” and “prefers baggy sweaters” just like a little way of understanding you better 🥺💖

yesss definitely! as an AuDHDer who stims a lot myself, this is everything!! jfskhfshsk

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

"Aaaahhhhh oh myy-" the rest of what you were saying was incomprehensible because the words slurred together in an excited squeal. A gleeful expression upon your face, you waved and shook your hands in front of your body, then pressed them over your mouth, to stifle another squeal.

Ford smiled to himself as he watched you from the other side of the room, where he propped his notebook open to scribble something down.

"Heeyyyyy Grunkle Ford, watcha got there?" Mabel's voice rang out right beside him.

He snapped the book shut and whipped his head around.

"Mabel!"

"Waves hands when excited." she cited what she had just read, "Were you talking about-"

"No, I was certainly not!" Ford said, while his cheeks started to turn a deep red colour.

"Are you suuuure? Because to me it looks like you diiiid." she said, a cheeky grin on her face and dragging some of the vowels.

"You are mistaken, dear child. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do." he excused himself and stood up, holding the notebook close to him.

Without letting her get another word in, he moved past her and made his way into his study.

There, he propped open the notebook to the page he'd just added a new note onto.

- likes to hum when no one is around - seems to prefer more loose fitting clothes. possibly because the don't restrict movement as much - will unconsciously play and fidget with any jewellery they're wearing - sorts and eats their food in a particular order - would rather not eat at all than something not appealing - skin irritating clothing causes great discomfort. remove tags!! - wants to talk but holds back. encouraging them has positive effect - avoids eye contact but will look at faces when the person isn't looking at them - do not touch without warning and do not force contact! expressed great discomfort to me after being forced to physical contact by someone else - repeating phrases and noises (quite endearing) - easily startled by sudden and loud noises, as well as irritated by high pitched ones, almost too quite to hear - shows behaviours similar to felines. has stated that they would be delighted to posses the ability to purr (he would be delighted too)

Ford smiled as he looked up and leaned back. He really hoped Mabel hadn't seen too much, otherwise she might figure out how interested in you he really was. And we wasn't sure if he was ready for that.

For now he would be very much content continuing to dreamily gaze over at you and notice all the little things, so he could understand you better.

Maybe one day he could work up the courage to ask you out.

-------------------------------------------------- thank you for reading <3 reblogs are appreciated

[lusmeitli]

But like of each thing that in season grows

Summary: How a kind gesture can lead to something more. One shot.

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Christmas fluff, mention of off screen assault, some swearing, lots of snow, books, poetry, smutty smut.

A/N: Okay, look. It just wanted to get out. You’re thrown in without a warning, nor a floatie. Apologies for the liberties taken to interpret and manipulate characters to dance after my will once more. Obviously don't read if you're a minor.

9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9

The greatest ideas were conceived in the shower. That was a scientific fact.

You liked facts. You did not like uncertainties or speculation. The feeling of being in limbo was something that didn’t sit right with you.

So as you were in the shower, working the conditioner in your hair, the idea was just there. It was simple, humble, but beautiful. Your hands slowed and stilled. And then your mind rebooted and went at lightning speed, planning things out. You needed to write things down.

You stepped out of the shower hurriedly, towelling down your body, before realising that your hair felt different. Cursing, you stepped back under the water to rinse off the conditioner.

*****

You hated staff meetings. Particularly third Thursdays staff meetings, because they dragged on and on. The weekly mission reports were presented and Fury insisted on inviting some guest speakers. He called it “Horizon Thursday”.

In your opinion it narrowed rather than widened it. Today’s guest speaker was Quinn Harris, cyber security specialist. You suspected self-proclaimed, but you hadn’t bothered doing a deep dive on him.

You were sat on the increasingly uncomfortable chair, rows of employees in front of you, the Avengers at the very front. Rogers had delivered his usual military style mission report, the other members of his team trying to look alive, though you suspected Romanoff and Banner were asleep, as they were both donning sunglasses.

“What you need is a quantum computer and it’ll solve all your problems with encryption.”

“They might as well propose using block ciphers,” you murmured under your breath, turning the page in your book.

Meanwhile, a hand shot in the air at the front. “Excuse me, Mr Harris.”

The man smiled. “Mr Stark, do you have a question?”

“Well, not so much a question for you, but I would very much like the opinion of another expert on what you just said. You know, before anyone here thinks about investing in your product, which, let’s be honest, would be me. I’d like to be sure it’s the right thing.”

Fury rolled his eyes and sunk back in his chair.

There had been talk about getting that dude in? You must have zoned out for that part.

Harris’ face fell for a second, but he honed his features and forced a smile. “Of course.”

“It just so happens that we have an inhouse expert,” Tony got up and scanned the crowd. “Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

Everyone uniformly turned to look at you. Everyone.

You felt the moment one particular pair of eyes set on you. The amount of times you had spoken to one another had been limited to the missions you were needed on, for hacking. You’d had his voice in your ear a few times and it did things to your body that made you feel like a system overheat. You never really saw him during missions though as your job was very much office-bound.

Today, he wore the damn leather suit. Whilst Fury didn’t give a fuck, Rogers very much was all about the professional appearance of the Avengers. What you didn’t understand was why everything looked better on him. The black and green possibly was the best colour combination there ever was. The other day Bucky had worn a Slytherin pullover and even though it very nicely accentuated his physique, it looked nothing like the colours did on Loki.

You swallowed hard when you felt his eyes on you. They seemed to see right through you, even over the distance of the seven rows of chairs.

And then you felt the weight of all the other pairs of eyes on you. That was a lot of people. You gulped and pushed your glasses back up the bridge of your nose - a habit you couldn’t break. 

“Y/N,” Tony called, bringing you back to the matter at hand. “Stand up and look at me.” His voice was gentle. “Start breathing again. Good. Now tell me what Harris is not telling me about the quantum computer.”

You adjusted your glasses again and cleared your throat. “It’s a solid proposition, I suppose,” you started, “however, one I would expect from a college freshman, certainly not from a cyber security expert specialist.”

Murmurs erupted, but you ignored them and rattled off your thoughts.

“Can a quantum computer crack asymmetric encryption algorithms? Yes. And yes, we all know that thanks to Shor’s algo the maths problems are only polynomial. Also, we know this applies to discrete log problems, too, therefore, all we’d need is a large enough quantum computer. Of course, he,” you gestured to Harris, “would have to build one first, which as you can guess is very costly. However, this entire presentation is based on the assumption that quantum computing is the end of asymmetric cryptography. And that is such a blatantly ignorant approach, with complete disregard for the safety of the members of our staff that are entirely reliant on the encryption cracking working on all their devices during operations and missions. And this whole quantum computer only works if you have a network connection.”

“So you’re suggesting there are hard problems that a quantum computer can’t solve?” Harris said, chin jutting out, arms crossed defiantly.

“Don’t be silly, of course there are,” you huffed. “I coded new post-quantum asymmetric encryption algos three years ago and tested them on several sites I am not authorised to disclose that have quantum computers. Not one of them cracked the simplest of those codes, in any of the over 5,400 attempts they ran over the past three years. So this presentation is… rather embarrassing in its sloppiness.”

“Well,” Harris’ lips were a thin line now. “I’m sure you have a ‘much better’ suggestion then?” He actually raised his hands to add the quotation marks.

“Actually, I do. I developed our own version of a quantum computer, at - and I’m only guessing here - a fraction of the price you’d charge Mr Stark, which can crack both symmetric and asymmetric encryption, works on all of our staff’s devices, portable and stationary, works offline and is about the size of, uh, a thumbnail.”

You pointed to your thumb, because in your humble experience men like him struggled to accurately size things.

Tony smiled and turned to Harris.

“Okay that concludes today’s meeting.” Fury got to his feet and patted Harris’ shoulder. “Looks like we’re good, but thanks for coming.”

People around you stood, some nodding at you as they passed. Tony caught up with you in the hallway. Before he could say something you blurted out: “Did I say something wrong? Was I rude again?”

He smirked and pushed the button of the lift. “He needed putting into place. Totally fine by me. You did great.”

“Stark!” bellowed Fury from down the hall and Tony winced.

“Excuse me, mother’s calling.” He turned and left.

You sidled into the lift with several other people. The cabin stopped a few floors up and people got off. That was when you noticed Loki on the other side of the lift. Up you went and after another stop you were alone with the Asgardian god. The cabin seemed to shrink.

You both watched the numbers climb, the lift hummed, Loki’s leather suit creaked softly as he crossed his hands behind his back.

“Could you please enlighten me about Shor’s algorithm?” he suddenly asked, looking at you.

You had a heart palpitation. Surely that was what it was. He was so impossibly tall and sculpted and… here.

“Um,” you pushed your glasses back up, “it’s a quantum algorithm for finding the prime factors of an integer.”

Loki’s face looked blank.

“It, er, essentially it finds the prime factors of large numbers a lot faster than conventional computers do. Which we use in encryption. The large numbers, that is. So it cracks codes faster.”

“Ah,” he said, head turning back to continue staring at the number display. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you croaked out.

The urge to facepalm burned under your fingers, but you resisted. As soon as the doors slid open on your floor, however, you fled and sought asylum in the ladies’ toilets, banging your head against the wall of the stall.

*****

Operation Great Idea was in full swing.

So you’ve had a little personal setback, but that didn’t deter you from the objective. You had compiled a list, one you were confident was accurate based on your intel and research. That very list was neatly folded in the deep pocket of your coat as you walked through the cold rain on this late November afternoon.

Yes, you did something you’d never done before - take an afternoon off - and were trying to evade puddles on your way to the bookshop. Could you have ordered the books online? Most of them, certainly. But your late mother, an independent business owner, had ingrained in you to support local shops. You liked bookshops, they reminded you of her and of simpler times.

Your timing was excellent - of course you had researched when the shop was least busy - and you practically had the shop to yourself. And so you walked, dragging a pull-along basket behind you as you searched the shelves for the books on the list.

Sometimes, there were different editions there and you stood for a while, feeling the weight of each book in your hand, the feel of the embossed letters on the spine, the scent of the pages. You wanted it to be just right, so you took your time.

Some of the books you would only be able to get in a little second hand bookshop, tucked away in a side street. You had called beforehand and the owner lifted a box from under the counter to show you what she had reserved for you. As soon as your fingers made contact with the books you felt absolutely giddy.

Back at the Tower, you spent two entire evenings wrapping books after work. When you were finished, you leaned back, looking at the neatly organised stack. Yes, you were ready. Now all you needed was an exorbitant amount of luck for the next 24 days.

*****

You watched Loki stare suspiciously at the first parcel. He was sitting in the communal kitchen, Thor next to him. 

“Why would it be hexed?” Thor asked. “Simply because the sender is missing?”

Loki just gave him a pointed look.

“Come, brother, aren’t you curious to find out what is in this gift?”

“Loki got a present?” Steve asked as he pulled a bowl out of a cupboard. “Did I miss his birthday?”

Before Loki could say anything, Thor shook his head. “He’s worried it has been tampered with.”

Roger’s brows furrowed. “How did it get into your possession?”

“It was on the floor outside my door this morning,” Loki complied, sighing.

“FRIDAY would have picked up on any foreign substances or intruders in the tower,” Tony said between gulps of coffee. “He now can detect traces of magic, too. ‘Course, he went apeshit over your magic, but we got it under control, eventually.”

“That’s what all this ‘Alert, alert, magic detected, caution advised’ blaring at five in the morning was?” Scott bustled in.

A slight tinge of red shaded Loki’s complexion. “I have to practise some time.”

“Thought you were born with it?” Scott interjected, helpfully.

This earned him a glare. “I was born with the aptitude for magic and sorcery. It takes a lot more than mere talent to achieve this level of proficiency.”

“Several centuries, in fact,” his brother supplied. “Now then Stark here says it’s safe. So open it, brother!” Thor clapped his hands together. 

Loki indignantly and very reluctantly slid the parcel towards him and pulled on the simple string that held the wrapping together. The paper fell open to reveal one of the books you had picked.

From your vantage point of, well, your computer screen, you zoomed in to get a better look at him.

“Oh, a book,” you heard the onlookers muttering disappointedly, quickly losing interest and going about their business once more.

But Loki just sat, staring at the book. It took him a good few minutes to pick it up. And he did what you had seen him do many times before. He weighed it in his hands, fingertips running over the cover, the spine. Then he opened the lid. To anyone else it might not have been noticeable, but to you it was: he inhaled the scent of the book. And finally, there was the smallest upturn of his lips.

You exhaled, relieved. One down 23 more to go.

*****

Over the next week you were too busy testing the new firewall you had developed to check on Loki’s reaction. Sometimes you felt a little self-conscious, scared even that he might not like the books or think this was from a stalker. Which technically you had indulged in, stalking that was, but only to find the perfect books for him. And then sometimes you would get worried that someone else might have found the presents.

But you knew he had received every single one of them, for every evening, when you passed the common area you saw him sitting on the couch with the latest offering in his hands. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but it looked as if his tense shoulders had started to relax a bit.

Another couple of days went by and as the decorations started to pop up in the Tower and the first snow fell that didn’t immediately melt or turn to mush you felt happy. Perhaps it also had something to do with the fact that a certain someone walked differently. Maybe it was your imagination. But he seemed even taller these days.

*****

“Did it work?” you heard his voice in your ear a couple days later.

The data set was streaming on the screen in front of your eyes. “It did. Give me a moment to inject the virus, then you can disconnect the USB cable.”

“Can I still talk to you?”

Your fingers on the keyboard stilled for a moment, surprised. “Of course. The program runs through your phone, not through comms.”

There was a little pause, before he said: “I have a question. About a Midgardian tradition.”

You wrinkled your nose, scanning the code rushing over the screen. “I’ll try my best, but I’m rubbish at traditions.”

The audible outbreath sent shivers down your spine. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“What’s your question then?”

“Tell me about the Yuletide calendar.”

45% done. “You mean the Advent calendar?”

“Precisely.”

This was dangerous territory you were treading on. “Oh, it’s a fun thing for kids, really. To make the wait for Christmas a bit more exciting and I guess more bearable. It’s nice to get a little something like a toy.”

“Is it always toys?”

69% now. “Well, no. My mum used to get me an advent calendar that had these lovely drawings behind each door. I hung it up in the front room and we’d open it together every morning.”

“I suppose it’s a nice custom,” he said, before asking, “What about grown ups, do they have advent calendars?”

83%. “Sometimes. There’s all sorts: beer, wine, beauty products, chocolates - you name it, it probably exists somewhere.”

“Books, too?”

The question threw you, did he know it was you? A light was blinking on your screen.

100%.

“That’s it, Loki, the virus is uploaded, you can unplug the cable now and get out of there.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

You heard a crackle and the comms was handed over to operations again. As you finished running the decryption programme on the data Loki had extracted, you kept hearing his voice in your head.

“Books, too?” Were you busted?

*****

Security breaches were both an insult as well as an admittedly welcome challenge to you. Someone had tried to flex their fingers - and you had a very good idea who - to break into Stark’s network. They had managed to pierce a little hole into the outer layer of the firewall, but they didn’t know that you had several back up plans in place and you enjoyed watching them work. However, as you scanned over the intruder’s code you devised a new security strategy.

You were in the middle of coding a nice little primer for a new layer - unexpected because of its simplicity, but a tough little nut to crack - when someone cleared their throat next to you. You looked up to find Loki, his eyes fixed on you. You blinked, looked around, but no one else was there, and back up at the god.

“Can I, uh, help you?” Smooth. You facepalmed internally.

“I realised I have never been in here,” he said, looking around the room, then back at your desk. “You have a lot of monitors.”

You waved your hand dismissively. “Just the standard three.”

“What are you doing now? Or is it a secret?”

“It’s not a secret at all. So we’re currently under attack. Relax,” she said when she noticed him tense, “cyberattack. Someone’s knocking at our backdoor, trying to see if they can get in.”

You motioned to one of your screens. “This is the intruder’s code. He’s trying out lots of keys to see if he can get in. And this,” you pointed to the screen next to it, “is our defence mechanism.”

“Extraordinary.” Loki’s low voice murmured. He was close. You turned your head and nearly had a heart attack at just how close. His sharp profile was illuminated by the blue glow of the monitor, his hair falling to his shoulders, one hand splayed on the desk, the other resting on the back of your chair. He looked beautiful. Perfect. He was leaning closer to the screen so he could see what was going on. Your breath hitched.

And then he turned his head.

Something that sounded an awful lot like a squeak escaped your throat.

Loki lifted an eyebrow. “Am I making you nervous, Agent Y/N?”

You pushed your glasses up your nose and leaned back, just an inch. “No?”

Loki’s eyes drifted over your face, before they met your gaze again. “Is that a question or a statement?”

“A… a statement,” you mumbled and, for good measure, added, “sir.”

His eyes darkened, a smirk curling the left side of his lips. “Are you scared of me?”

You tilted your head ever so slightly. “How can I be scared of you?”

“You’ve heard the stories, undoubtedly.”

“I did. And if I believed everything people told me and not looked beyond I would be incredibly shitty at my job.”

He smiled at that. It was small, but there, and it made him so attractive you felt your stupid heart starting to pound in your chest. Could he hear it?

“Do you like to read, Agent Y/N?”

Another adjustment of your glasses. “I do.”

“What would you say is your favourite book?” His voice was low and smooth.

His hand moved from your desk to the side of your face, where he gently pulled on a tendril, before he brushed it behind your ear. The back of his fingers skimmed your cheek for less than a second, but it sent you reeling. It was as if an electromagnetic pulse was slowly wiping clean your hard drive. You couldn’t think.

“Um, err, Jane.. Jane Eyre.”

He hummed. “I wonder why? Is it because she’s abandoned and rejected all her life?”

You shook your head slowly. “No. Because she’s forced to leave home, into a life she didn’t choose. But when she is given the freedom and space to grow she learns to be the master of her happiness.”

His eyes followed the curve of your neck and back up again. It almost felt as if he was touching you. “Interesting.”

You swallowed again, before he stood upright, nodded at you, turned and left. 

Your heart was pounding. And then your computer beeped and your attention was back on the screen.

“Oh pants…” Your fingers started flying over the keyboard. “Not today, Harris. Or any other day.”

Nine more books to go.

*****

He was onto you. Of course he was. After all, he was the God of Mischief and Lies. If anyone would find out who was behind this, it would be him. Personally, the preferred outcome was that he never would find out.

You had asked yourself often over the last 18 days why exactly you wanted to do this for him. But that was just it. You really had no other motive than wanting to do this for him. Maybe because you sympathised with him, being stuck somewhere far from home, feeling lonely and not really integrated. Maybe you had projected your own feelings onto him a tiny little bit. Possibly considerably. However, it was done with the best of intentions. You wanted to make this nice for him. The run up to Christmas. A little bit magical. He must like magic, he was a sorcerer after all, wasn’t he?

So what if you had started dreaming of him at night. He would lean over you as you sat at your desk, in all his tall- and broadness. This time his hands would be touching you. And he’d lean in to whisper into your ear. Admittedly, not words you would necessarily associate with such a situation.

When you would wake up you knew where to place the things he said to you in your dreams. He’d said them to you during missions. And yes, “how much longer till the download is complete, Agent Y/N?” was not remotely as sexy as “I’m going to ravish you now, thoroughly” would have been, for example. But your brain only had so much to work with and it worked for you.

You noticed a few things, however. Loki was around more often, probably just a silly coincidence, or you had started to pay more attention. He looked at you now. You’d look up and find him already looking at you, sometimes a little smile crossed his lips, but mostly it was just something with his eyes, they seemed… warmer, maybe?

However, to your horror you discovered that you had started to blush. Every single time this happened. So you spent a lot of time in the ladies’ toilets, splashing your face with cold water, only to see it even more flushed than before. Apparently, all the books you had read lied about that ‘splashing your face with cold water to calm down and not make people notice’-thing.

But it all boiled down to the fact that he was onto you. Maybe he was humouring you and seeing where this was going. Maybe he had found out already and you made him feel awkward. Or he was waiting for the opportune moment to expose and humiliate you. You weren’t sure which.

Right now it didn’t matter. You were so tired you could hardly see properly anymore. So when you decided to crash on the sofa in the common room, because it was halfway to your room, you didn’t think to check if anyone was there.

That was mistake number one.

You collapsed onto the sofa with a groan, eyes closed, head leaning against the back of the sofa.

“Fuck. My. Fucking. Life,” you complained to the universe. “Can you please make the appendage of that misogynistic wanker fall off already? For fuck’s sake!”

Mistake number two.

Someone chuckled. It came from rather close to you.

Dread filled you. Foul language was not tolerated in the workplace. To be fair you could argue that the common room was not your workplace per se, however, you did not want to start arguing with HR because they were absolute savages in the art of word twisting. Or just savages full stop.

Carefully, you cracked your eyes open. And there, on the sofa right next to you, sat Loki. One leg was stretched out in all its glorious length, the other bent at the knee, his forearm resting over it, the book in his lap now closed, one of his slender fingers acting as bookmark. For a moment you wondered what it would feel like to be the book.

“I hope it’s not my appendage you’re asking to be removed,” he said with a smirk.

You grappled to sit up, horrified. “Of course not! That would be awful… I mean, a terrible thing to wish for… you’d… err… such a loss of such a beautiful… I mean, I can only guess… but… um, err… heavens, please make me stop talking…”

You hid your head in a throw pillow, wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

Mistake number three.

The sound of a low, rumbly laugh made its way to your ears. It entered your system like a virus, leaving your limbs feeling weak and yearning. Was Loki laughing? You lifted your head and watched him, highly bemused at your idiotic display.

It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard. You felt a hard tug at your heart. Goodness, if this man wasn’t already a god, you’d have to declare him one. If he were the head of a religion you would throw out your atheist views and follow him to the end of the multiverse. He looked absolutely breathtaking. Then again, when did he not?

“I’m so sorry,” you started to apologise, “I don’t know what-”

With superhuman speed he moved and sat next to you, his finger on your lips. The feel of his digit on your mouth felt more intimate than any sexual intercourse you’d ever had.

And then he leaned in.

He was so close your cells were basically breathing him in. His eyes were locked onto yours and nothing would have been able to make you look away right then.

“Do you want to know what book I’m reading right now?” His quiet words did things to your insides that were not legal.

You just about managed to nod, his finger still in place.

“‘The Remains of the Day’ by Kazuo Ishiguro. Do you know it?” He waited for your affirmation. “It’s about a man who is in love with a woman. But he doesn’t tell her. When they meet again after decades, she tells him her life would have been different if she had married him. And you know what he does? He still won’t admit his feelings to her. He walks away from her. The first time he lets her go, the second time he walks away.”

You remembered the book very well. You had picked it out for him, after all.

“It’s a cruel story, Y/N. A love that is never acknowledged, nor consumed.” Loki’s eyes drifted from yours down to your mouth. His finger slowly traced the outline of your lips. It was too much, your eyes closed.

“Do you think love is this cruel?” Loki asked quietly. You felt his words as he spoke them almost onto your skin. So close.

“It-it can be,” you whispered. “But maybe, maybe that wasn’t the point of the story.”

“No?”

You opened your eyes to find him looking at you. He’d moved away a bit, giving you some space, waiting for you to elaborate.

“Maybe the point was to show that he chose his job over love. Twice. You can call it dignity or pride, but at the end he’s alone. Without love.”

“What about you, Y/N? Do you have love in your life?”

You weren’t able to look into his eyes. Slowly, you got off the sofa. You turned back to him to respond to find he’d stood up, too.

You looked down at your shoes. His shoes were black, of course, polished, perfect, like him. Yours were several seasons old. Worn. A bit of the shoe sole had started to peel off at the top of your toes. The bit you always kicked into the floor when you worked.

Your eyes wandered up his trousers, black, to the belt, his pullover, also black. He looked effortlessly elegant, poised. You, on the other hand, looked a mess, even in your work attire. Your heart grew heavy at the realisation. Your dreams were stupid. Turned out your heart was even more stupid. And suddenly you felt incredibly small in more ways than one next to the tall, powerful god.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you said: “I have known love, once. A long time ago.”

With that you pivoted on your heels and left, leaving Loki alone in the common room.

*****

Harris was an absolute tosser.

He just couldn’t leave things be. He insisted on trying to show you up, so he tried and tried to hack his way through your firewalls. Of course he had tried to hide his identity and it had made you chuckle, because you seriously had no idea how he could ever dare call himself a cyber security specialist if he covered up his tracks like a novice hacker.

In a way it was cute, but it was getting to the point of obsessive stalking and you frankly were rather tired of this little game by now. Particularly, since it kept you from your nice, warm, comfortable bed well past midnight.

However, Harris seemed to have changed tactics and started to badmouth you in the industry. Even Fury had called Tony and asked whether he should be worried, because Harris had dug up some hacking you’d done when you were much younger and much less ethical. Really it was unhinged, but everyone worked through teenage years in their own way.

You only knew this because you happened to be in Tony’s office and he had Fury on loudspeaker. Tony had pacified Fury without batting an eye, then hung up and asked if you’d be okay with him paying Harris a little visit, preferably as Iron Man. You had both laughed it off. But it bugged you.

So when you were on your way back to the tower from the compulsory (for all employees) counselling session and someone grabbed you, you weren’t surprised to come face to face with Harris. He didn’t lay a finger on you. No, he got two goons to do that for him.

Later, as you stumbled out of the lift and along the corridor, trying to make your way to your room, someone blocked your way.

“Speak of the devil! Y/N! We were just talking about you.” Tony. Other voices around him.

You kept your head down, thinking of how to get out of this unnoticed.

“We were just wondering if– Y/N? What happened?” You saw Tony’s hand reach out for you, but you flinched away.

Silence fell for a long moment.

Then a movement. Shoes appeared in your line of vision. You knew those shoes well. They had been on display on the couch for the past 22 days, attached to an Asgardian god.

He slowly held out his hand, palm up. An assurance, no harm. You gave the slightest nod. He moved the hand up and placed a finger under your chin so carefully you wanted to sob. The faintest of pressure had you lift your head to look up at Loki. His eyes scanned your appearance, stopping at your bruised hands that were trying to hold together your coat, taking in the blood splatters on the fabric, your busted lip, the lopsided glasses, the badly bent temple dangling off its hinge.

You never understood the expression ‘his features darkened’. You did now. Loki’s face transformed and you saw for the first time what a dangerous man he could be. Power radiated off him. You were glad it was not directed at you. His nostrils flared and you almost heard how much he was clenching his teeth.

“Names,” he ground out.

A hot tear rolled down your cheek and now that it started it didn’t want to stop. His eyes softened, something akin to vulnerability flitting across his features.

“H–Har…”

“Harris?” Tony asked softly. You nodded, still looking at Loki.

Loki rolled his lips in his mouth, his thumb swiping ever so lightly over the skin of your chin, before dropping his hand and walking to the lift in long strides.

“Nat?” Tony asked, the spy already by your side.

“Hold up, Reindeer Games!” Tony hollered behind you, as Romanoff led you down the corridor to your room. “I’m coming, too…”

It felt as if you were having an out of body experience as you were peeled out of your bloodied coat, your clothes and body assessed quickly but gently. She pulled out her phone after she ushered you into the shower.

“Tony? No forced intercourse, but lots of bruising…,” was all you heard before the hot spray of the water ran into your ears, blocking all noise out.

*****

Your glasses were fixed and you could see properly again. That was important, otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to see Harris’ face on the news as he was escorted - handcuffed - from a courtroom and shoved into a police van, followed by the two goons who had helped him.

When you turned from the screen above the cashier, you saw Loki next to Tony across the canteen, looking at you. You walked over, clutching your sandwich.

“So, um… thank you,” you said, gesturing to the screen, “for that.”

Tony put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently, before his eyes gazed behind you. “Is that a double cheeseburger I see? Excuse me.”

And off he went, leaving you alone with the Asgardian god.

You shuffled your feet, studying the floor.

“Thanks again-”

“Are you okay?” 

You both said at the same time. You laughed quietly, looking up at him. He smiled. You’d never seen Loki smile.

“I’m fine, thank you,” you said.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

You wanted to say so much more, do so much more, like hug him. But he was a god. You weren’t exactly sure what the protocol was for hugging gods. The awkward silence thickened.

“So, I’ll see you around?”

He was still smiling. “Yes. See you around.”

You were fairly sure you were blushing as you scampered off, back to your office.

*****

Bryant Park was one of your favourite places to be in New York. For one, it was right behind the public library - your heaven. For another, it was close to the Tower and you could wander the paths under the lovely trees. The park was very busy as it was Christmas Eve and people wanted to while away the time in the Winter Village until the big day. But as the ice rink closed down and the skaters came off, noses and cheeks red from the cold, the park started to empty.

You sat on a bench under one of the trees, gloved hands deep in your coat pockets, a woolly hat and scarf keeping you warm. Your head was tilted back and you watched the snowflakes dance and twirl in the cold wind.

“Y/N,” someone called.

Loki stood a few metres away from you, a black coat making him look even taller. He was not donning a hat or a scarf, he looked comfortable with the cold. The snow clung to his dark hair, a soft dusting was on his shoulders. You envied the snowflakes.

You got to your feet and he took a few steps closer, looking down at you.

“Were you enjoying the activities?” Loki asked, nodding to the ice rink.

“No, I just… I just like to sit here,” you said, feeling a bit silly. “I like the trees and the snow. It’s… peaceful.”

He nodded.

“How about you? Fancied a turn on the ice?”

He laughed and you watched the cloud mix with your breath. Now you envied your breath.

“Actually, I was looking for you.”

“Me?”

He took another step towards you. “Yes.”

“Why? Did something happen at the Tower?” Worriedly, you fumbled your phone out of the coat pocket and checked it.

A large hand covered it. You looked up. “Nothing happened. I wanted to talk to you.”

Nervously, you glanced down at his hand that still covered your phone. If you hadn’t been wearing gloves your hands would have had actual skin on skin contact. He dropped his hand to his side.

“Am I in trouble?”

He shook his head. “I… I wanted to thank you.”

“What for?”

His hand pulled a book out of his pocket. “For this.” He slid it back in the folds of his coat.

“Oh.” You didn’t really know how to feel or react. You knew he’d been onto you, so it was no surprise he’d sussed it out. He was, after all, the God of Mischief and Lies. But you had to give him kudos for letting it play out.

“Um, you’re welcome.” You bit your lip.

“You don’t know what this meant– what this means to me.”

It was impossible to look at him.

“I was dreading this time of year here on Midgard. But your incredibly generous advent calendar made it feel… like when I first visited here with my mother.” He grasped your gloved hands in his. “I miss her dearly, so thank you. For giving me this.”

You were too choked up to say anything, so you just nodded.

“Can I enquire what your reason was?”

It was so cautious, as if he was worried it might scare you off. And yet, the question threw you, most likely because you had been asking yourself the very same thing from the moment of its conception in your shower. It was just there, a need, an urgency you didn’t know where it came from or why it existed. It was something you had to do. Like breathing.

But over the course of the last few weeks, particularly the last few days, it had become painfully clear why you did it.

“I wanted, no, I needed you to be happy.”

He squeezed your hands gently. The tips of his shoes, his shiny, polished shoes, now touched yours.

“Please look at me.”

So you did. He looked different… vulnerable maybe.

“Why do you need me to be happy?” The question was another cloud and you breathed it in, let it fill your lungs.

“Because…” You were afraid to say it, to admit it. But something in his eyes made you courageous. Either that, or foolish.

“Because I watched you, during missions and in briefings and ops planning. You started to believe what they said about you. And it’s not true. There’s so much you don’t share, don’t tell them and I see it. It’s right there in your eyes. And I didn’t want you to lose yourself. And it’s selfish, I know, but I need you to be happy… because if you are, so am I.”

“If you think that’s selfish, then I am guilty of this notion, too.”

Loki raised his right hand to run the backs of his fingers over your cold cheek. “I knew after three days it was you. I wanted to see where this was going, what your motivation was. And I… when I saw you after Harris… I was filled with so much rage and fear. That I would lose you. Before I had you.”

He leaned his forehead against yours, you closed your eyes, heart beating out of your chest at what you were hearing. Was this a dream?

Loki’s voice was just above a whisper. “Can I? Have you?”

You moved away slightly to look into his eyes. “Yes.”

He leaned in, his hands splaying on your back, as you stood on your toes. The moment his lips touched yours, you felt a current run straight to your heart. It was as if your brain rewired, the missing piece of the primer clicked into place and unlocked everything.

Snow was falling as Loki kissed you under the tree. You didn’t hear the whistles and hollering of passerbys. You didn’t feel the cold wind. You felt elated, buzzing even.

“Your phone is buzzing,” Loki murmured against your lips.

“Hm?” you said dreamily. 

“Your phone is buzzing,” Loki smiled, “someone’s calling you.”

Quickly you pulled out the damned device. Before you could even say your name, you heard Tony say: “So sorry for disrupting, Y/N, but we got a slight issue here that needs your expert skills pronto.”

You hung up, burying your head in Loki’s chest. His laugh rumbled in his chest. “We’ll talk more later.”

Breathing in his scent and holding onto him, you weren’t ready to let go. “Promise?”

*****

“Oh god, yes,” you sighed in absolute bliss. “That’s the spot, right there.”

Your groan sounded through the kitchen. You deserved that after three hours of extra work on Christmas Eve.

“Here?” Nat asked.

“Yes, yes! Please don’t stop,” you begged, putty in her hands, eliciting more noises from you.

“Maybe you should try yoga. Your shoulders and your whole upper body are so tense and full of knots. There’s a class I go to tomorrow at lunchtime, if you want to join me?”

“No time,” you murmured. “Heavens, Nat, what else can you do with those hands?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she teased.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Banner interrupted, grabbing Nat by the hand and dragging her to the door. “I’m happy to share my girlfriend’s masseuse skills for a severe case of muscle lock, but I’m afraid I have a personal request now.”

You opened your eyes to catch Nat winking at you, a slight blush on her cheeks as she was pulled out of the room. “So I’m your girlfriend now?” you heard before they disappeared down the corridor.

You laughed and turned in your stool. Thor, Scott and Loki stood staring. Thor at the ends of his braids, Scott at his fingernails, Loki at you. Eyes intense and dark. You swallowed.

“Y/N, a word, if you please,” Loki said, before wrapping his fingers around your wrist and marching out of the room, with you trying to keep up with his long strides, your coat and shoulder bag in your other hand. 

He didn’t say a single word until you reached his room - it was closest - and the door shut behind you, locking the outside world out. He pushed you against the door, arm placed against the wood above your head, body leaning into yours, not quite touching.

“That was… a rather interesting display,” he remarked quietly, his breath puffing against your face as he spoke. “In future, I would prefer if your keening was reserved for me.”

Your hands found the buttons of his shirt. “That sounds like an exclusive right to me.”

“It most certainly is.” His lips hovered over yours.

Your index finger slipped in the space between two buttons. “A right that needs to be earned,” you whispered, your finger grazing his skin.

His breath hitched ever so slightly. “Do not challenge me, darling,” he leaned in, his body moving against yours teasingly. “It might be,” his mouth brushed against your earlobe, “too taxing for you.”

You scoffed, but his lips silenced you. His stance shifted as he picked you up and placed you on the nearest surface - a sideboard - and stepped between your legs. He broke the kiss, to cup your face. For a long moment he just gazed at you. The heat in his eyes seemed to intensify, turning you into a needy mess. He made a show of taking off your glasses, folding the temples and carefully putting them on the side board next to you. Your core clenched.

He held out his hand for you to hop off the furniture. You took it and he took to your lips.

It was quite possible that several things fell off on your way to Loki’s bedroom. When you pushed him into the wall to open the damned buttons of his shirt, a picture might have fallen. A vase, perhaps, when he picked you up and spun you around so your back was against the doorframe next to the fragile ornament. Your head hit the heavy frame of a painting, rendering it lopsided, when Loki feasted on your throat, and you tilted your head back to allow him better access.

Kissing, licking, nipping, sucking - he was intent on leaving marks. Your fingers somehow were in his hair, keeping his head in place. Soft, his hair was so soft. A sharp contrast to the teeth you felt pulling on your skin. His ministrations drew a long moan from you.

Loki smiled against your skin. “Yes, my siren, sing.”

Your back hit the mattress and he crawled over you. His hair a curtain, screening you off from the rest of the world in your own sacred space. His shirt hung open, your hands reached out, tracing each line, each dip. His tongue against yours mimicked the motion of his hips that rolled into you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, meeting each movement, as if you had practised this dance many times before. He pulled away to tug off your pullover. His fingers pushed up your bra and then he sucked your nipple into his hot mouth, making you arch your back.

“Loki, please.”

You didn’t really know what you begged for. More, probably. More of this, more of him.

He pulled you up so you both were kneeling on the bed. Shaking hands fumbled with clothes and fastenings and then you were both naked. Your breath hitched at his beauty.

“Can I…,” you started, voice sounding hoarse. You looked up at him. “Please let me worship you.”

Something flickered across his face - surprise? He gave a curt nod and then watched every single one of your movements.

You took his right hand, tracing each finger with yours, the veins on the back of his hands. You brought his hand up to your face, cradling it to your cheek, before kissing the palm of his hand. One finger at a time, you sucked it into your mouth, to the knuckle, your tongue swirling around the digit, before releasing it and pressing a kiss to the tip, before moving on to the next.

Your hands traced the skin of the inside of his arm, his veins, the rise and fall of his muscles, and up over his shoulder, across his chest to his left arm, which you gave the same treatment. Each birthmark, each scar was kissed. Your hands skimmed over his chest, your lips followed the path. Loki’s breath stuttered when you sucked on his left nipple, before you released it, softly blowing on it. It puckered. You bestowed the same treatment upon the other nipple.

“Please, lie down,” you whispered and he complied.

You lay next to him, kissing his forehead, your fingers running through his hair along his scalp, gently tugging. Onwards, to kiss the curve of each eyebrow, the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones, his chin, along his jawline to his ear. You felt his body shiver when you breathed: “You are so beautiful, inside and out.”

Then your teeth closed around his earlobe, gently pulling. A deep moan sounded through the room. Up until now he had let you do whatever you wanted to and not touched you. But his restraint waned and his hands splayed on your back, pulling you flush against his body. You kept going, your lips now worshipping his delectable throat. He tilted his head back to give you better access.

“Herregud,” he rasped as you kissed, licked and sucked on his sensitive skin. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed hard, his hands growing slack on your back.

You kissed the dip between his collar bones and worked your way down his torso, lips kissing, hands caressing. Further and further you went, along his abs, dipping in his belly button, following the trail of hair below. You leaned back a bit, to look at him. He was fully erect, heavy, swaying slightly. The purple mushroom head gleaming with pearls of pre-cum, thick veins running down the shaft to his pubic hair.

You licked your lips, curling one of your hands around his base, the other cupping his testacles. Then you looked up at him. He was up on his elbows, staring down at you hotly, biting his lips as he watched you in anticipation. You made sure to have and maintain eye contact and then you took him into your mouth.

He hissed, his head falling back, a loud moan following when you hollowed your cheeks to apply suction, the salty taste of his precum on your tongue.

You moved your hand up his length, still sucking, giving his testicles a gentle yet confident squeeze. Up your mouth went, your tongue circling his slit, before sucking him back in. The third time you did it, his hands clasped your shoulders.

“Stop.”

You looked up at him. Loki was breathing hard and you let his cock slide from your mouth with a wet ‘plop’.

In an instant your back was on the mattress and he hovered over you.

“Please don’t misunderstand,” he explained, voice rough, “I loved it, but I have plans.”

He settled between your legs, eyes locked on yours, hand on your thigh, pulling your leg around his waist. His hand slid up, splaying over the fullness of your ass, before giving it a firm squeeze, then sliding over the globe and dipping between your legs. When his slender digits made contact with your aching centre, you cried out. Your whole body was throbbing with need.

“All this nectar is for me?” he rasped. 

You nodded.

“Oh, I have to see this.” And in one fluid motion he sat back on his heels, spreading your legs with his hands, looking at your dripping wet centre in amazement.

“Wait a moment,” he said, before he scrambled off the bed and disappeared in the corridor, only to come back a few moments later to resume his place between your legs. He handed you something with a smirk. Your glasses.

“I want you to see me.”

You put them on, your heartbeat accelerating. You bit your lip in anticipation. He looked up at you, his hot breath puffing against your wet core and then his flat tongue licked you all the way from your entrance to your clit. Your fingers fisted in the bedsheets, eyes falling shut in ecstasy, mouth open in a silent cry.

“Look at me.”

You did. He started a rhythm of licking, sucking and lapping that had the coil inside you wind up and tighten impossibly in no time at all. You fell back onto a pillow. Then he slid two fingers inside you and your hands dove into his hair, tugging, scraping.

What a visual. Loki between your legs, eyes burning into yours, humming and moaning against your clit, fingers sliding in and out of you, curling just at the right time, at the exact angle you needed. It was as if you were a book he’d read a thousand times before. Your toes curled and then you fell into the abyss. You moaned out his name over and over as the orgasm washed over you, leaving your legs shaking.

Loki moved up your body, placing kisses on your thighs, your tummy, your breasts, before he brushed some hair out of your face. You took your glasses off, he placed them on the bedside table. His eyes searched yours.

“I need you, Loki,” you managed, pulling him down.

He kissed you deeply, slowly, the taste of you on his tongue. His hips rocked forward and he slid inside you all the way to the hilt. Loki stilled and broke the kiss, resting his damp forehead against yours.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

Your fingers caressed his back. Unable to form words, you nodded. Then he moved. His hips rocked into yours in slow, deep thrusts. He filled you so well, stimulating places inside you you didn’t know existed. Your hands ran over his back, down his sides, making him shiver. He watched you, eyes dark but warm. One hand found your swollen clit and his fingers circled and rubbed, applying the pressure you needed to fall into oblivion again. Your feet pressed into his ass cheeks to bring him closer, deeper and his name fell from your lips over and over.

He rocked inside you as you rode out your orgasm. You opened your eyes to look at him in wonder. Never had you seen anything as beautiful as Loki. He seemed to glow from the inside. Maybe it was your imagination. You lifted your head, cupping his face to pull him in for a kiss. His tongue moved languidly against yours, savouring the intimacy.

Then he started moving faster, pulling one of your legs up to rest the calf against his shoulder. Deeper, you wanted him deeper. You couldn’t get close enough. His mouth was devouring yours in a needy kiss, all tongues and teeth now as he pistoned faster into you, your hips meeting each of his thrusts. His lips found your nipple, sucking, pulling on it, moving to its sibling. You couldn’t believe you were on the verge again already. Never before had you been able to orgasm more than once during intercourse.

The room was quiet but for the moans, the heavy breathing. You were so wet that your coupling’s noise was wonderfully dirty, edging you both on even more.

“Look at us,” Loki commanded and you did.

Nothing had ever been so erotic as watching him fill you, stretch you, sliding out, covered in your juices. His fingers were on your clit again, rubbing, circling.

“I don’t know if I can…”

“One more, darling, give me one more,” he insisted, breathlessly.

His hips moved faster, as did his fingers and you were there, on the edge. Loki’s eyes met yours and he knew. His movements stuttered, pupils fully blown, jaw slack, a drop of sweat sliding down his temple.

“Cum with me,” you whispered, your fingers dragging down his back, possibly breaking skin, squeezing and pulling his ass into you.

And he did, propelling you into bliss with him. Your name fell from his lips in a string of Norse profanities. His cock pulsated as the hot ropes of his seed marked your insides as his, your pussy eagerly clenching around him, making sure every last drop would be spent inside you. His movements slowed and then he stilled, buried inside you.

Loki’s lips pressed onto yours in a tender kiss. You stayed in the embrace until you both caught your breath. Then he pulled out of you, your mixed juices running out of you. He could have cleaned you up using magic.

But Loki got out of bed, got a wet flannel from the bathroom and gently cleaned you, kissing your tired body, before sliding back into bed. He pulled you into his arms, your hands joined over his heart, legs intertwined and you both lay there, in your bubble of utter and complete happiness under warm covers, watching the snowflakes dance outside the window in the early hours of Christmas Day.

Christmas Day!

“Oh, wait here!”

You scrambled off the bed and ran to the door, forgetting about your nakedness, pulling your shoulder bag from under your coat. You pulled something from it and brought it back to Loki. He was sitting up, forearms resting on his knees, an intrigued look on his face. 

“Merry Christmas,” you said.

He looked at you and then at the present you held out to him. He cocked an eyebrow as he took it and pulled the fabric ribbon off. His hands parted the paper and then he grew completely still.

“Where in the nine realms did you get this?” he asked after a few moments, voice sounding rough.

“A friend of mine got her hands on this a while back. I thought you might like it.”

He stared at the book, transfixed. His slender fingers caressing the embossed letters on the front and then he lifted it to take in the scent of the pages. His eyes closed.

“Do you? Like it, I mean?” You were worried about this book. It had cost an arm and a leg, but you thought it would be worth it.

“Like it?” Loki asked, finally looking at you and pulling you on his lap. “My mother used to read me his poems when I was a child. I rediscovered it later. This is…”

He was searching for words, failed to find them and instead kissed you, hard, hand fisting in your hair. After a long moment, he broke the kiss.

“Thank you, love.”

Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, stroking his pulse point.

“Will you read it to me?” you asked, a bit out of breath.

Nodding, he sat against the headboard, you curled up against him with his arm around you. He made sure you were both tucked under the covers. Then he opened the book and cleared his throat.

“Kormákr Ӧgmundarson ‘Sigurðardrápa ‘Drápa’. This is one of my favourites, he wrote it for the love of his life.”

His fingers wandered up your arm.

“Brunnu beggja kinna

bjǫrt ljós á mik drósar,

oss hlœgir þat eigi,

eldhúss of við felldan.”

His digits absently stroked your ribcage, skirting over the side of your breast. The rhythm and intonation of his deep voice made you clench your thighs.

“Enn til ǫkkla svanna

ítrvaxins gatk líta,

þrǫ́ muna oss of ævi

eldask, hjá þreskeldi.”

He paused, closing the book and brushing his lips against the skin of your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut.

“What-what does he say?” you all but stuttered.

Loki kissed along your collarbone. Humming against your skin.

“The bright lights of both

her cheeks burned onto me

from the fire-hall's felled wood;

no cause of mirth for me in that.”

His hands cupped your breasts as he sucked and teased one of the nipples. Your hands tugged on his hair, desperate for him again already. You felt his need hard and heavy against your thigh.

“By the threshold I gained a glance

at the ankles of this girl

of glorious shape.”

Loki moved to lie between your legs, hands sliding over your breasts, your tummy, your thigh, down to your ankle, lifting it to wrap it around his hips.

“Yet while I live

that longing will never leave me.”

His voice faltered as he rocked his hips forward and your bodies were joined once more.

“That longing will never leave me,” he repeated like a vow, eyes serious and warm.

“Nor me,” you pledged, before you lost yourselves in the physical expression of your feelings once more.

~ fin ~

[wiltedflowerpetals]

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John Price is a lot of things. A soldier. A leader. The captain of Task Force 141. And, of course, (Y/N) Price's husband. They are so much in love, in fact, that after a year of dating, John asked her to marry him. But even lovers have secrets... Because John's lovely wife wasn't just a sweet wife with a boring office job. No. She was a killer. A hitman. One of the best...

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It's my first cod fic... I hope it's good. Thank you for reading and I wish you all a great day! x3

Words: 2259

Warning: fluff, a bit angsty

You wiped a bead of sweat from your brow as you entered the quiet sanctuary of your home. You placed your weapons carefully in your hidden compartment beneath the floorboards of the closet, where John would never think to look. It was almost laughable, really. Your husband, John Price, a man who had dedicated his life to fighting criminals, had no idea that his wife was one of those killers.

You closed the closet door and took a deep breath. This was your life, your choice, long before you even met John. He didn't need to know about your job. All he needed to know was that you were here, waiting for him, just like you always were. You took another deep breath and needed to switch gears, to become the version of yourself that he knew and loved.

After you took a shower and put on some comfy clothes, you decided to cook your husband’s favorite food. You moved around the kitchen, preparing it as the aroma of simmering stew filled the air.

Your phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. A text from Kate Laswell. A good friend of yours.

You smiled before swiping the screen to answer the call.

“(Y/N).” Kate greeted you. She sounded professional, as always, but with a bit of warmth.

“Kate.” You replied. “How did it go?”

“Smoothly. The target is dead, and our friend is safe for now. You did a good job out there.”

“Thanks.” You said, leaning against the counter, watching the stew. “What’s next?”

“Next?” You heard her chuckle. “Next, I’m coming over.”

You raised your eyebrow, stirring the pot. “You're sure about this, Kate?”

“What, afraid to see me in broad daylight?” You rolled your eyes at her. “Yes, John invited me. He’s been telling me for ages about how good your cooking is. How could I refuse?”

You sighed. “I’m a great cook… But, Kate, you know how important it is that John doesn’t find out about… you know.”

“I know.” Kate reassured you. “I won’t say a word. He has no idea we know each other, and it’ll stay that way.” Silence filled the conversation. “But he’s bound to find out. You have to talk to him one day.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I know and I will do it… One day. It’s just… I don’t want him getting involved in my shit. If he knew what I really do…”

“I understand…” Kate said softly. “And I promise, your secret’s safe with me.”

“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You sighed and rolled your eyes as the line went dead before you could say more. You placed the phone back on the counter.

“You could have said bye, Kate.”

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust your husband; it was that you couldn’t bear the thought of him being in danger. You’d lied to him for years, all to protect him. And so far, it had worked.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

The front door opened. John was home. You turned, wiping your hands on a towel as he entered the kitchen, his face lighting up when he saw you.

“Hey, love.” He greeted, his voice gruff but full of affection.

“John.” You smiled, walking over to him. He pulled you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair. The scent of sweat, gunpowder, cigars and earth clung to him, a reminder of the world he lived in, the world you knew perfectly well…

“Missed you.” He murmured against your neck.

“I missed you too.” You replied, your voice soft. You kind of did. Can you miss someone that you see so often? Even when your husband went on missions, you were there, watching his back and saving his life more times than you could count.

You always went there to safe him. For Kate and for yourself.

You pulled back, giving him a soft kiss on his dry lips. He was safe. That was all that mattered.

“You’re just in time for dinner.”

John watched you with a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You spoil me, you know that?”

“Someone has to.” You teased, setting the plates on the table. “Sit down. I’ll get everything.”

He obeyed. You placed a steaming plate in front of him and joined him at the table. You two ate in comfortable silence.

John leaned back in his chair, looking at you with a satisfied grin. "You’ve outdone yourself, love."

“I’m glad you liked it.” You replied, gathering the dishes. He grabbed your hand, stopping you.

“Leave it.” He said. “I’ll do it later.”

You smiled, but shook your head. “Let me help then.” John offered, but you shook your head again.

“No, you go take a shower. I’ve got this.”

He didn’t need much convincing. “Alright, but only because you insist.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple, before you watched him head towards the bathroom.

The next day arrived too quickly…

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

You woke up early and ready to prepare breakfast. John was still asleep, his arm draped over your side of the bed, the peaceful expression on his face making your heart ache with affection.

You moved quietly, not wanting to wake him just yet. He needed his rest, especially after the mission he’d just returned from. You poured yourself a cup of coffee and sipped it slowly, savoring the moment.

As you finished up, John stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Morning, love.” He mumbled, reaching for you. You stepped into his embrace, pressing a kiss to his chest.

“Morning.” You replied, your voice soft. “Breakfast is almost ready.”

“Smells amazing.” he said, pulling back to look at you.

You two sat on the table, eating your delicious food as John intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Soo…” John started, as you finished your food.

“Soo?” You glanced at him, squeezing his hand.

“A friend of mine wanted to visit us. You, know the friend I’ve mentioned a couple of times? Kate?” You nod your head, feeling a slight twinge of anxiety in your stomach. “Yeah, she will come… Is it okay? Or should I call her back and-“

You shook your head. “No, no, honey. It’s okay. She can come.” Despite her promise, there was still a small part of your that worried, that he will find out about your job.

John smiled at your, happy that you were fine with it and finally could meet his friend.

And due to your nervosity, you start to cook early on for dinner. For the time Kate will come into your home. You prayed and hoped that everything will work out…

John noticed your nervosity, of course. He always did. “You’re fussing too much.” He teased as he leaned against the kitchen counter, watching you.

“I’m not fussing.” You rolled your eyes, but could hear the tension in your own voice. “I just want everything to be perfect…”

“It will be.” John assured you, moving to wrap his arms around you from behind. “Kate’s going to love you. She’s always been curious about the woman who managed to snag me.”

You laughed, though the sound was a bit strained. John kissed the side of your neck, his beard scratching gently against your skin. “Don’t worry, love.”

The doorbell rang and you felt your heart leap into your throat. This was it…

John released you, heading for the door. “That’ll be Kate.” He said.

You quickly wiped your hands on a towel, trying to steady your breathing as you followed him. When the door swung open, there stood Kate Laswell, dressed casually but with her usual air of quiet authority.

“Kate, good to see you.” John greeted warmly.

“Good to see you too, John.” Kate replied with a smile, glancing over his shoulder at you.

You stepped forward, a perfectly practiced look of curiosity and friendliness on her face. It was time to act. Something that you always had to do during your missions. Acting or more likely… lying…

“You must be Kate. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“And you must be (Y/N).” Kate responded. “John wasn’t exaggerating when he said you’re beautiful.”

You rolled your eyes at the false pleasantries, but at least your friend had some fun. This was the game you two had to play after all. “Thank you. Come in, please.”

As Kate stepped inside, John closed the door behind her, looking pleased. He had no idea that the two women had known each other for a long time already.

They moved to the dining room, where you had already set the table. The conversation flowed easily, John and Kate reminiscing about old missions, with you chiming in here and there, careful to keep up the facade of being just a supportive wife with no real connection to their deadly world.

As they ate, John kept looking between the two women. “It’s funny.” He remarked. “I’ve always thought you two would get along great. Glad to see I was right.”

You forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look as strained as it felt. “Well, Kate’s easy to get along with.” You said, but kept your eyes rather on John than on her.

Kate returned the smile, her expression giving nothing away. “And I can see why John speaks so highly of you, (Y/N). You’ve got a real knack for this - hosting, cooking… you’re a natural.”

“… Thank you.” You replied, you were counting down the minutes until this tense dinner was over.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of small talk and laughter, with John completely oblivious to the undercurrent of tension between the two women. As far as he knew, it was just a pleasant evening with his wife and a close friend.

When it was finally time for Kate to leave, John walked her to the door, thanking her again for coming. You followed, staying a step behind, happy that the day has finally ended.

“Thanks for having me.” Kate said warmly, giving you a meaningful look as she shook your hand. “I hope we can do this again sometime.”

“I would love to.” You replied, your voice steady despite of all the emotions you were feeling right now. “It was lovely meeting you.”

With that, Kate left, and you closed the door, leaning against it for a moment, eyes closed as you let out a slow breath.

John came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “See? Told you it’d be fine.”

You leaned into his embrace. “You were right.” You admitted, turning in his arms to face him. “It was nice and went better than I thought.”

John smiled down at you. “You did great, love. I knew Kate would like you. But then again, what's not to like?”

You chuckled. “You give me too much credit. But I’m glad she came over. It was… good to finally meet her.”

He kissed your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “You know, I think she’ll become a good friend of yours. She’s got a lot of interesting stories, and I’m sure you two have more in common than you think.”

You swallowed hard, forcing a smile on your lips. “Yeah… maybe.”

John’s smile softened as he looked at you. “Are you alright? You seem… distracted.”

You hesitated, your heart skipping a beat. He was always so perceptive. But you couldn’t tell him the truth… Not now, not ever. So, you did what you had done countless times before. You lied… Again.

“Just tired.” You said, resting your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “It’s been a long day.”

He held you close, his hand gently stroking your back. “I understand. It’s been a lot. Why don’t we call it a night? You need your rest.”

You nodded, feeling now tired from this day. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

You locked up the house and headed upstairs. As you got ready for bed, you couldn’t help but glance at John, wondering what would happen if he ever found out the truth. How would he react? Would he be angry, hurt, betrayed?

Once you two were in bed, John pulled you close, his arm wrapped protectively over you. He kissed your temple, whispering a soft “Goodnight, love.” before closing his eyes.

You lay there in the darkness, your eyes wide open as you stared at the ceiling. The evening had gone as well as it could have, but the anxiety was still there. Kate’s visit had been a stark reminder of your real life. Your real job.

You turned slightly to watch John sleep; his face peaceful in the light. He had no idea how many times you’d been there, watching over him from the shadows during his missions, making sure he and his team got out alive. You were always just out of sight, never letting anyone know where you were. It was your way of protecting him.

You weren’t sure how long you could keep this up.

But for now, John was safe. He was home, with you, and that was all that mattered.

You reached out, brushing a hand over his cheek, feeling the rough stubble under your fingers. He stirred slightly, but didn’t wake, just leaned into her touch.

“I love you.” You whispered.

It was both a vow and a plea. A promise to keep him safe, and a silent wish that he’d never have to find out the lengths you’d gone to do so.

Eventually, you fell asleep in the arms of your husband.

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[signanothername]

So, I know you've admitted to never reading For the Forgotten Ones, but I will note it has some very fanon Nightmare + MTT. And, so, it made me wonder;

the concept is just Ink being stopping from destroying his own SOUL by Nightmare, who takes him in. Ink ends up as a healer, before eventually discovering that he's Protector of Creation. Loosest way to describe the plot as possible. Could go more in detail if you'd ever like. BUT BACK TO THE THING I WAS WONDERING!!!!!!!!

How would that go with your version of Nightmare and the gang? With Nightmare finding the small, skeleton (small enough to be a kid), who has almost no knowledge of how the word works, and stubbornly refuses to ever fight or hurt or destroy, to the point he learns green magic, and barely anything else (he only learns his own magic aside from green), and Ink wants them all to be okay at the end of the day. How would that go with him? Even more so, what about MTT? In the story, Horror's the most chill with Ink, they're vibing. Dust/Murder is kinda vibing with Ink, arguably the two closest to Ink in the beginning. Killer is.....it takes a good minute for him to warm up to this one(Will say, at some point Ink falls into another AU o accident when opening a portal for the first time, nearly dies, is soaking wet ad scared, and he's given one of MTT's jackets, AND IT GOES DOWN TO HIS KNEES, I NEED YOU TO PICTURE THIS PLEASE....it was Killer's). By the end they're found family, but I really love your version of everyone, and I started rereading ftfo, when I wondered how different this could be if it were a DIFFERENT multiverse, a.k.a., your iteration?

Oh it’s definitely extremely different chhchc

I’m sorry to say that my multiverse isn’t much of a merciful one hchchchchc (I wouldn’t say my multiverse is a sad one, but it’s certainly a bittersweet one)

Biggest difference? Nightmare won’t even think of getting Ink under him or get him inside his castle to begin with

To Nightmare, That’s just another random Sans in this vastly wide multiverse, he already got 3, he doesn’t need another, sure, the circumstances of this particular Sans are interesting to say the least, but by that point, there’s nothing Ink could offer Nightmare at all except for his misery and negativity, but again, he already got 3 negativity meals that continuously feed him anyway, and this entire place is nothing but white void, so Nightmare has nothing interesting to be offered, there is literally no reason Nightmare would feel like he needs to change his routine to include a random skeleton who’s best they ever done is sit down and sulk

And hey, if being in this white void makes them miserable then who’s Nightmare to stop them from being miserable? :)

He’ll come in, take one look at them and their Au, get out, simple as that, and even if this random Sans had something to offer, Nightmare would simply settle for making a deal and leaving them there (no open positions for another member in his gang)

So basically the entire plot of the fic won’t even happen with my Nightmare, the fic is just gonna be reduced to a oneshot wheeze gchchcch

But for the sake of this ask, let’s imagine that my Nightmare did actually take Ink in, let’s explore how that would go

Another big difference? It’s Killer that’s gonna “warm up” to Ink first, (ngl, never understood the notion of Killer being the aggressive one cchhcch), i put “warm up” in quotes cause in reality it’s less warming up and more like, “wow! A change of pace? Something new? Interesting gotta squeeze every info outta them and maybe even manipulate them to suit me and convenient me while i’m at it”

Killer is social in nature, and unless Ink somehow reminds him of his own misary, there’s no reason Killer would pass up the opportunity to see how this new guy ticks, he’d study Ink like an ant, dissect them in his mind even, i mean, Nightmare getting someone new? He knows Nightmare isn��t one who likes change in his routine so what’s the new guy got that actually caught Nightmare’s interest this much?

All that aside, Killer is actually extremely docile to anyone as long as they don’t push him or force something upon him, and even when pushed, Killer is surprisingly patient and would simply let them get it out of their system all while making it clear he wants to be left alone until he loses that patience, so unless Ink somehow genuinely and actively pushes Killer’s buttons, he’ll never get on Killer’s nerves/bad side, Killer would simply treat Ink like he treats anyone, no genuine connection, just another thing (not person) to study and analyze

If Killer were to attack Ink in any way, it’s less aggression, and more “let’s see what this guy can do” just a quick test for his new lab rat

Killer wouldn’t form any genuine emotional connection with Ink, to Killer, Ink is just another toy Nightmare wanted to get for himself, and that’s talking about Stage 2, Stage 1 is… outta commission, I don’t think Ink would truly have the chance to meet Stage 1 Killer, meeting Stage 3 is a big possibility, but let’s hope Ink doesn’t have to cause I don’t think Ink would know how to deal with him

Murder and Horror are a different story, Horror wouldn’t want anything to do with the new guy, he already got a ton to deal with, he’s not interested to add another problem to his pile of problems, I wouldn’t say Horror would be aggressive, more passive aggressive, Horror is the old tired guy™ in the group, he’s got a splitting headache most of the time, a bitchy boss, hunger eating away at him and a Killer he would like to choke sometimes, he isn’t really in the mood to make friends

But as long as Ink doesn’t bother him, Horror would simply just co-exist with them, and even answer their questions or converse with them, but all in a “hurry up i want a nap” attitude

Horror has the capacity to warm up to Ink, but it’ll be a long slow journey till there, and Ink would have to do all the work cause Horror sure as hell won’t be the one trying to form a connection with him

Murder is a bit on the aggressive side, but not too much, just enough to make it very clear he isn’t up for making friends either, a bit of a cold shoulder if you will, but generally, Murder would just keep his distance, not trusting Ink too much, a bit paranoid about who he might be and why Nightmare brought them in considering they don’t look like they’d fit in their band of misfits at all

Still, Murder would warm up to Ink eventually if he truly realizes that Ink isn’t really that much of a bad guy, just another lost unfortunate soul that had miserable luck in life that Nightmare found them first

I’d say Murder is the one that might form a friendship with Ink, a twisted form of friendship where it’s “you’re now tolerable and so i might lend a hand here and there but every man for himself”, definitely not a rose filled friendship where it’s all rainbows, but a friendship nonetheless

But still, Murder is kinda the opposite to Killer, Killer is docile, Murder is hostile, so if Ink were to be hurt by one if the MTT first, it’s most likely Murder’s doing

But in general, it’s Killer that’s gonna help Ink “catch up” and get up to date on how things go around the castle and in general, it’s pretty much his job as he’s Nightmare’s right hand man, so if anything happens or if Ink steps outta line which could’ve been prevented had Killer done his job by properly introducing Ink to their “work flow”, it’s an 80% possibility that Killer is the one that’s gonna be in trouble

Don’t Imagine Killer doing his job in the sense of actual genuine love to help and more, cold distant “here’s how you can survive” without much emotion behind it even, just Killer smiling his dead smile and chatting it up, and even going as far as physical harm for “demonstration purposes”

When it comes to Nightmare and his relationship with Ink… there isn’t any, Nightmare sees Ink as another asset, another miserable soul to do his bidding, if Nightmare somehow deals with Ink’s refusal to hurt anyone then two things might happen:

1- Nightmare tortures Ink with his fear of white spaces and if things continue they way they do, and Nightmare reaches his limit, he’d simply try killing Ink off (now whether that would work is really up to you)

And

2- would let Ink warm up to MTT, then use them as scapegoats to force Ink to do what he wants by torturing them every time Ink decides to be stubborn (even going as far as making an example without any actual reason and demonstrating it by breaking one of MTT’s bones like twigs as Ink watches)

Now MTT would definitely start pressuring Ink to do his “job” to just murder someone or hurt them, as they aren’t looking forward to Nightmare torturing them just cause Ink wants to hold on to such delusional ideologies, and maybe even ending up feeling a lot of distaste for Ink and his behavior, their environment wasn’t meant for good intentions to blossom, and they’re gonna teach Ink that

If Ink somehow got stuck with Nightmare and his lil gang then man, I genuinely pity him

I feel like Ink would crave a tiny bit of genuine connection after being stuck in a white void for so long, but Nightmare and MTT don’t have that genuine connection, MTT are just roommates barely tolerating each other who live in absolute horrendous conditions under an abusive boss in an abusive environment, where the nicest most genuine thing one of them might do is tell you “hey don’t talk to boss today he’ll make you relive your worst nightmares, yeah, he’s in a mood today it seems”, and then there’s Nightmare who would make Ink extremely miserable and would use Ink’s fear of white spaces against him like the cruel sadistic bastard he is

Nightmare gang isn’t a found family, it’s a group of forced enslavement and labor, and there’s no escaping it

(The image of Killer’s jacket reaching Ink’s knees is really adorable tho, have a sketch for it :D)