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#THIS IS MY FAVORITE THING OF ALL TIME EVER
euaphoric · 2 days
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𝟎𝟏. 🥛 ✶𓏲ּ “ i want to sew all my love into you ” — [ 정국이 ]
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he was comfort, security, and need, all in one. it had a name; home <3
pairing ◞⁺⊹ husband!jk x wife!reader genre ◞⁺⊹ married/domestic au, pwp, slight age difference (jk is older by 5 years)
warnings ◞⁺⊹ insane tooth-rotting fluff bc i’m in need of high dopamine levels, cute n soft smut, you’re a clingy wifey, minor mentions of anxious/sad thoughts, o/c is kinda whiny and hella attention/touch-starved, o/c just misses her bby fr, daddy kink, major impreg kink, foreplay, they get all sentimental n mushy gushy at the end agghhh, aftercare bc koo is the literal definition of the perfect husband ^_^ wc ◞⁺⊹ 4.6k
音楽 — eyes locked, hands locked by rv
i’m vv excited to be back and writing again, i missed it sm ;(( i did this poll i few days ago and this idea won but i’ve decided to write them all so this is the first of three !! (〃ノωノ)゚+°
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summer days grew humid, each was hotter than the last. though it isn’t your least favorite season, you prefer to spend most of your time indoors as the heat often makes you feel faint and the air can be suffocating. usually these lazy, torrid afternoons were shared with your lovely husband, either you two would be laid up on the sofa or in bed watching your favorite shows/movies but today went a little off schedule.
you were all alone in your bedroom, feeling a bit sulky as your husband wasn’t around to tend to your needs or give you any affection. it’s not jungkook’s fault though; he’s been toiled away since this morning, offering to help your parents move and rearrange some of the new furniture that arrived today. you decided to stay at your family beach house this summer for a change of scenery, you hadn’t been here since you were seventeen, let alone seen your parents in person since last year. spending some quality time together has been long overdue and you couldn’t be any happier about it.
both your parents absolutely adore jungkook, they thought he was the sweetest, kindest, most generous person they’ve ever met— which says a lot considering they’ve never been a fan of anyone you dated previously. when you introduced him to them a few years ago, they had slightly pre-judged him based off his outward appearance, assuming that he wouldn’t be the type to take relationships seriously or even want to settle down and get married someday. but not even hours later their perceptions of him changed drastically, your parents could tell that he was a genuine soul who loved you unconditionally and would do absolutely anything for you.
that very same day, your mom spoke with you privately to express her virtuous first impressions, saying how much she loves him already and this is who you should’ve been dating from the start. your parents had extremely high standards for your future partner, especially your mom— but jungkook exceeded every single one of their expectations, checking all the boxes off their list. “i can tell just by the glint in his eyes whenever he looks at you… he’s more than in love, he’s infatuated. the way he talks about you as if you’re the most wonderful thing to have ever came into his life— he’s definitely going to be the one you’ll marry.” your mom gets all teary eyed as she spoke those last few words, picturing her one and only daughter all grown up, in a beautiful wedding dress, finally getting to see you live your happily ever after.
not even a couple months after graduating from uni you got engaged to the love of your life, proudly getting your degree you worked your ass off for and becoming a soon to be wife. you had to move across the country for a job offer of a lifetime but it was worth it, jungkook was beyond supportive in any decision you made and was there with you every step of the way, holding your hand through it all.
shortly after moving, you two got married and the rest was history, it was stressful dealing with so many life changing events all within a span of such a short time but you somehow managed. had it not been for jungkook’s constant encouragement and willingness to work/talk things out, you would’ve been a complete trainwreck. he was the balance you needed to keep yourself afloat, you felt so lucky, more than blessed to have a caring, understanding man like him.
the more you daydream about him, the more you wished he was holding you right now. you’re feeling lonely, so empty, and a little sad, his absence fills your mind with restless thoughts, hoping that he’ll come to your rescue soon enough. before jungkook, you were highly independent, never needed anyone to take care of you because you did everything for yourself; he never gave up on gaining your trust and has shown time and time again how dependable he is. you’ll forever admire how much effort he’s put into getting to know you over the years, that no one’s ever came close to making you feel the way he does— so high as if you’re soaring through the sky, living in heaven on earth.
he was the main provider of the household, you didn’t have to worry about anything nor lift a finger, all you did was focus on your career. you had a worry free lifestyle, the perfect job, perfect husband, what was there to possibly complain about? most aren’t so fortunate to be in your position so you never took any of it for granted. you love him more than anything in this world, you couldn’t stand to be away from him for another minute, you miss your hubby so much :( you craved his presence near you, needing him around you physically, wanting his soothing touch to ease your mind.
you wanna feel his sunkissed skin against yours, his warmth, the way his scent clouds your senses as he trails kisses down the curve of your neck, tangling your fingers in his dark, wispy hair. you want to lay your head on his broadened chest while snuggling up into him, hearing the gentle sounds of his heartbeat, intertwining your small hands with his large ones. you desire for him to kiss you everywhere, leaving no surface of you going untouched, pinning your body down between him and the mattress, like a flower pressed into the pages of a book and all that’s written is his name over and over. so many different scenarios play in your head as a means to pass the time, but they can only keep you sane for so long.
you’ve grown desperate for him at this point, finally coming out of your room to see what he might be up to now, searching the entirety of the house. you ended up finding him downstairs in the living room with your mom right beside as verbal assistance, not only did he lift and move most of the furniture but now he’s helping to mount up the new TV without even breaking a sweat in the process. was there anything he couldn’t do? probably not, he was a man of endless talents. your dad was sent out to go grocery shopping so your husband was pretty much doing everything on his own while your mom simply watches in amusement.
she was yet again impressed by your husband’s handy work, “wow jungkook, you’re really strong!” he was indeed. now you’re getting flashbacks to when he’d manhandle you and lift your body with ease in one swift motion to switch positions. his hands needed to be all over you right this second or else you’ll simply die of attention starvation. “mom, are you gonna keep him busy all day? ‘m getting really boreddd.” you childishly whine as if you weren’t a fully grown, married adult. to be fair though, it’s been hours since you’ve seen him and as much as you wanted to give him some space to help out around the house, you still had your needs to. the need in question being him in your bed, immediately.
“why don’t you go sit by the pool or something? you’ve been cooped up in that room since this morning, get some fresh air!” your mom suggests an alternative to wait but you shook your head in an instant, “nuh uh, too hot, i’ll melt like an ice cream cone!” you’d rather stay locked inside your air conditioned room than having to deal with the searing hot sun baking you well done at 450 degrees. “i’m almost done sweetheart, promise.” jungkook quickly reassures before hammering one of the nails into the wall, the way his veins would protrude through his arms as he repeats the action made you mindlessly clench your thighs together. he could make anything look insanely hot, it was almost unfair.
✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦
after another twenty minutes or so he was finally done and now free to go, thrilled to have him all to yourself once again. you practically yanked his arm off as you led him up the staircase but your mom had one more thing to say, “will you be helping us tonight with dinner? i’m making your favorite!” he turns for a second to answer, “uh- yes of course !” that enthusiastic, bunny-like smile of his that you’ve grown to love for so long never fails to make you melt, just so effortlessly pretty without even trying.
but now you realize that you only have a limited amount of time with him, great… you’ll have to wait even longer to have him exactly as you’ve imagined. there’s only so much pent up sexual frustration you can take, you’ve been patient for almost eight hours. that’s probably the longest you two might’ve gone without having sex— okay maybe that’s an exaggeration but you do have a very active sex life with your husband, you try to do it at least twice a day and if you’re both feeling a little friskier it can sometimes go up to 4-5 times~.
your sex drive used to be quite low, never really seeing it as a huge necessity for you— until you met jungkook, of course. there was an immediate sexual attraction that you felt towards him, you’ve never felt so drawn to anyone before, he was irresistible. you’ve had some internal issues with your performance in the bedroom, it took a lot for you to reach your peak but could never get yourself to finish (unless you did it yourself) but with jungkook? that’s a whole different ballgame. you could simply cream in your panties just from kissing those luscious lips of his, he ignites a fire in you that’ll never wither into ashes.
once the door to your room was closed, both his hands found purchase around your waist, caging you into him and pulling you in for a deep kiss, melting right into his hold. your bodies flowing with pure lust and greed for him, not even thinking twice as your hand travels down lower to palm him through his sweats. he let out a breathy chuckle from your sudden actions once he pulled away, “someone’s feelin’ kinda slutty tonight.” he teased, which you took no offense since that’s just your collective humor.
“mhmm, ‘m only the biggest slut for you. now stop neglecting your wifey and gimme all your love.” since he hasn’t been giving you much attention all day you were acting a bit whiny about it, jungkook didn’t like that word though, neglect? that just wasn’t something in his vocabulary when it came to you. “huh? don’t ever say that again, you know i’d never purposefully neglect you, ever.” he made sure to emphasize that, he knows you weren’t being serious but it does hurt a little to know you may secretly feel this way. he loves you and you can feel it without him even needing to say it, that’s how intense it is.
“it was just a joke koo… didn’t mean it like that.” you jut your lip into a tiny pout, leaning in to kiss him again but he turns away, denying you the void of what you wanted most. “a joke is supposed to be funny last time i checked.” he retorts before sneaking off to make a beeline towards the bed, confused when you don’t follow suit after him. “what’re you standing there for? get your little butt over here.” he impatiently demands, patting his lap for you to sit on top. you listen and make your way over to him, straddling his lap with both legs on either side of him as he brings you in closer. he wraps his arms around your waist again, tightly holding you in his grasp, your frame sinks right into his chest.
he locks his lips with yours, kissing you slowly, taking his sweet, sweet time; what’s the rush? you had the rest of the night at your disposal. needy hips languidly rock back and forth against his semi hard-on, the fabric of the pajamas shorts you wore were so thin you could feel his cock throbbing underneath. you audibly gasped when he brushes up against your weak spot, it feels amazing, your panties turned into a sticky puddle from the pleasure; moaning into the kiss as he inhales your sighs. you were more than hungry for him, you were ravenous— only the taste of him could quench your avid thirst. you’re already as close as you can be but you wish to be even closer, if it was impossible you’d crawl into his skin and fuse your bones together to become one, you’re so in love it sickens you.
“need you to touch me,” you whimper for more when his lips drew from yours momentarily, “please.”
jungkook loves seeing you like this, his pretty wife acting all hot and bothered just for him, but he’d lying if he said it wasn’t the same way for you too. “where baby ?” his warm breath against you leaves a shiver to your spine, his voice low and raspy. “everywhere.” you beg in desperation, “just wanna to feel you, need you so bad…” you continued to grind your core onto his clothed erection, becoming even whinier as time passes.
he smirks at that answer, knowing that he’s the only one that can have you in this way. “need you too baby,” his tone is nothing short of a whisper, lazily rutting his hips up to match the pace of your movement, “been thinkin’ about you all day, can’t wait to fuck this little pussy.” his middle and index finds your clit to rub through your pajamas, making you bite your lip so hard it’ll leave a bruise. you’re both so horny and desperate for each other like some hormonal teens, you’re about to explode from how sensitive you are, your whole body feels tingly.
“jungkook!” a familiar voice shouts from a distance, it was muffled but you know that was definitely your mom who just called for him. “come back downstairs, i think something’s wrong with the remote, it’s not working— help !” she sounded a bit overdramatic which is how she usually is most of the time. you groan in annoyance, getting even more frustrated that you had to stop, all you want is some private alone time with your husband but no, the universe said not today! you really wanna curse your mom for being a total cock block right now .. -_-
๑ ๑ ๑
“i’m gonna put a baby in you someday.” your husband casually says while rubbing your stomach, his inked skin splayed across your bare form. “in this cute little tummy right here.” he points near your belly button, planting a small kiss to it. you two were finally alone once again and this time it was for good. after jungkook helped your mom figure out what was wrong with the remote (it wasn’t broken, she just forgot to put a new set of batteries in) and ate dinner with you and your parents, the night was bound to end like this.
this isn’t the first time he’s said something like this and it surely won’t be the last, but you burst into a giggle, “quit kidding around kook.” he’s always playing around but you can count on one hand how many times he’s actually finished inside you, since you’re not on birth control for health reasons you have to be extra careful to not end up getting pregnant. there’s been a handful of times where he’s had to run to the store and get you a morning after pill which you’d just hope for the best and leave it up to the universe. you have noticed that jungkook has been more vocal about wanting children lately, so maybe he’s hinting at finally taking the next step.
“and if i told you i wasn’t?” he shifts slightly, eyes flickering up to stare into your gaze. “would you let me paint your walls ? give you a baby so i can see my stunning wife bear our children?” the thought of you carrying his child pops into his head a lot, probably on an hourly basis— he’s more than ready to start a family, but he’s still not sure where you stand 100% on the idea. there was no pressure on his side, but it’s important to make sure you’re both on the same page.
your hands snake up to his chin, cupping it firmly, ready to make the final say once and for all. “yes koo, i’ll let you do anything to me. i trust you, i trust us.” that’s all you need to withstand through any obstacle(s), trust and trust alone. if that doesn’t exist, the foundation will be sure to crumble— disintegrating into nothing. you’ve never trusted someone as much as you do jungkook, he’s the reason you even get out of bed at times, makes you want to push yourself to become a better person. real love is the refusal to never give up on one another, even through the toughest, most ugliest moments.
what you’ve come to realize is that you have all of him and everything he’s promised to provide is all yours; his heart, his last name, his vow to stay by your side forever— through sickness and health. he’s given every single aspect of himself he has to offer, the only thing left that’s missing is a tiny addition that carries both you and jungkook’s DNA. you’re more than curious to see what the outcome will be, harboring no regrets inside. jungkook’s smile grew wider, feeling faint tears rim his eyes at the thought of you putting all your trust in him. you have no idea just how much that means to him.
his head lowers back to your torso, imprinting a trail of kisses, slowly making his way down further and further. your skin feels as if it’s on fire, boiling hot like the scorching summer heat. he took an ample amount of time to worship your body, leaving wet kisses to your inner thighs, “i’ve wanted this for so long…” he hums against your flesh, insides buzzing with raw passion and desire. “want to finally do this together.” he gently nibbles, a faint bite mark appears to which he repeats on the other side. “your tits are gonna get even bigger, more plump and so full of milk,” he continues, elated with so much enthusiasm, “that pregnancy glow will make you even more gorgeous.” he wasn’t saying all of this for nothing, he truly cannot wait to experience it all, how your belly will grow each month, all the random/weird food cravings you’ll get, and gracefully handle any sudden mood swings.
you were aching for him, you couldn’t even answer back, your heads reeling with too many thoughts— the thought of him stuffing you to the brim with his cock. you were topless but wanted him to take off the rest, wanted him to fuck you until your body physically shakes and you can’t think of anything but him being buried balls deep into your sousing cunt. you had to savour every last bit of this though, etch every little detail in your brain to replay as a supercut one day; remembering the time you two made love to conceive your first child.
jungkook’s slender digits move skillfully to hook around the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down along with your drenched panties. “it’s crazy to me how this is all mine,” he pauses to admire your glistening arousal, scooping it up with his one of his fingers to have a quick taste. saccharine. “i have the prettiest, sexiest, hottest wife in the whole fucking world.” he’ll never not compliment you, even when you’re old and gray he will always remain the same. “stopp~” you toy with your bottom lip, cheeks turning rosy at his constant sweet talk. then you become a pile of mush, simply too absorbed with pleasure as he sunk one of his digits into you, thrusting in and out slowly. “fuck.. feels s’good- please don’t stop.” you beg for this to never end, bidding all concept of time to vanish in hopes of it lasting infinitely.
“we’re going to create the most beautiful family,” he coos, licking a stripe to your clit, swiping up and down as he continued pumping his fingers in your wetness, “just you and me.” he only came up for air to say those last few lines, diving right back in to drink up your deliciousness. his tongue adds light pressure to your overly sensitive bud, making you twitch and subconsciously jolt up— his free hand forcibly brings your hips back down, locking you in place so you have nowhere to go— forced to take all that he gives you. paradise. that’s what this is. you’re already close to the edge, the broken moans that escaped your lips are like a soft ballad to his ears, cursing under your breath, panting, crying out his name repeatedly.
“ah! s’close… don’t stop, don’t stop..” you plea so pathetically, voice getting shakier as you reach your climax, his face was soaked, fucking drenched. he’ll willingly drown, submerge himself into the flood of you, no other place he’d rather be than between these perfect, plush thighs. he drives you into further insanity when his pace drew more rapid, finding the ultimate sweet spot. the lethal combination of his fingers and his tongue working to give you a mind blowing orgasm, all you could do was utter feeble, plaintive cries, latching onto his fluffy hair as you ride out your sudden high that’s stampeding into you full force. your body goes inert, limbs pliant beneath his embrace. “you did so good for me angel, m’so proud of you.” jungkook briefly pecks both your thighs, giving it a little smack once he comes back up to face you again.
he quickly discards the rest of his clothes, but everything’s moving in slow motion. his movements are frantic yet it still wasn’t quick enough, he needs to feel you so badly. his manhood throbs against your folds, sliding his shaft between the puffy, saturated lips, making such delightful sounds. “quit teasin’,” you whine, not in the mood for prolonging this anymore. he doesn’t say anything, just twisting a smile in response, but he’ll give you exactly what you want. who is he to deny his wife’s orders? so he finally enters you, filling you up little by little, inch by inch; and when he’s fully settled in, your walls clench around his length immediately. “never fails to amaze me how i fuck this little pussy on the daily but you’re still so fuckin’ tight… always squeezin’ me babe.” his breath hitched towards the end, already sounding so pussydrunk from the way you suck in the entirety of him.
your legs hook around each side of his waist, keening at the way his cock drives into you, slow but sensual, moving your hips to match his rhythm. “be good for daddy and wait for me. wanna cum together.” he husks, to which you obediently nod at his request. your jaw slacks open wide from his cock hitting your walls beautifully, each stroke he gave sent you to a further state of delirium. he picks up his speed a little more, his brain empty with no thoughts but this warm, dewy pussy swallowing him up, groaning as you leave scratches along his back. jungkook’s sweet compliments never stop, they only intensify. ‘you’re all mine, and i’m all yours baby’ ‘your face looks so pretty when it’s all fucked out’ ‘love fucking this perfect little cunt’ and ‘i love you so much, my angel baby.’ it brings you to the verge, strings of shattered moans evade your senses.
your hands greedily come up the sides of his face, pulling him in for a frenzied, yet passionate kiss caging him in just in case he has second thoughts, trapping him with no choice but to cum inside. “shit— keep going like that and you’re def getting pregnant tonight.” he groans against your lips, this only made you clench around him tighter, “please daddy- wan’ your cum, put your babies in me..” you want him to paint your walls white, milk him for all he’s worth and some. his strokes get sloppier as his high approaches, squeezing your thighs as he plunges deeper. it doesn’t take much longer for him to shoot a hefty in load inside, planting every bit of his seed as the waves of your second orgasm ripples through you. you’re both heavily panting and gasping for air, when he pulls out you’re left empty again, but at least you were stuffed with his hot cum. he looks down at the mess he’s made, sodden and creamy, picking up some that’s spilled out of your cunt to push back in. “we can’t let any go to waste, right ?” “mm… yea.” you bit your lip, still shaking, electricity flowing through your veins.
he topples over in exhaustion, way too tired to move. well, at least for now— he’ll be able to go again in another hour or so. “you’re going to be such an amazing mom,” he says while snuggling up in the crook of your neck, “remember the day i asked you out? i thought you were gonna say no.” that was random… but also jungkook is known for saying the most unexpected shit at the oddest times. “what ?” you were so confused, firstly this came out of nowhere but also why would he ever think that? it was basically love at first sight with each other. “wasn’t nearly as confident back then, i used to practice in the mirror how i’d do it.” he chuckles at those old memories, in hindsight none of it was necessary because he didn’t say any of the lines he rehearsed. defeated the whole purpose.
“since the day we first met i knew you were the girl i’d spend the rest of eternity with.” his fingers trace down your spine as he spoke, you’re so overfilled with joy that you could cry. you regret absolutely nothing, the only thing you do is all the other men who came before jungkook, all those losers who were wastes of time, but that journey has led you here and this is where you’ll stay for the rest of your life. it still feels like the honeymoon stage with him, a never ending blissful rollercoaster. “i want to sew all my love into you,” his hands danced around your skin, inhaling your natural scent, you feel so soft and smooth. “thread by thread, seam by seam, i’ll tether our intricate souls together.” you hummed to his words, he’s a romantic at heart just like you, he still writes occasional love letters to you and is always doing something to bring a smile to your face— whether it be coming home with your favorite candy, buying you flowers, or taking you out on cute, fun dates. every day is like a new surprise, never knowing what you’re gonna get when it comes to your husband’s spontaneity.
you’re both a little sticky, sweaty, and smell of nothing but pure sex. jungkook ends up carrying you all the way to the bathroom, deciding to run a nice, relaxing bath for the two of you. he adds your favorite lavender bubble bath, making the water extra bubbly and soapy for you which he knows you love. when you're both in the bathtub, your backs facing him as he uses a pink loofah to clean you up, embedding gentle kisses to the nape of your neck and shoulders as he does it. he held you for what seemed like forever, just admiring each other’s company while under the water, almost falling asleep right in his arms.
✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦
let’s make the circle
that’s inside of us.
every day it rotates like that,
color me ☆ 彡
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am trying to write longer stufff, i enjoyed writing this story a lot, lmk what you think . ! ! !
to see more chaos click here (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄ ♡♡♡ (。・ω・。)ノ♡
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barcaatthemoon · 3 days
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most likely to || lucy bronze x reader ||
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you and lucy do a couples' interview for the media team.
media days had always been some of your favorites. it was generally a lighter training for you, unless they wanted some footage that day. today was a special media day, something that jona had asked you about after you and lucy came forward with your relationship. it had been a bit of a process for you to convince lucy to do the interview with you, but you knew that she was starting to get excited as the day drew closer throughout the week.
"ready to go?" lucy asked as she stood in front of your cubby. the interview had been arranged for post-practice, but you doubted that they had taken into account how long it took you in the shower. lucy had been ready for at least 20 minutes, not that she could ever mind waiting for you.
"tie my shoes for me?" you asked, since lucy was already in front of you. she rolled her eyes at your request, but knelt down to do it anyway. you knew that the eye roll was just because your teammates were around. lucy generally did all sorts of little things for you throughout the day, claiming that she always wanted you to feel like a true royal. "thank you, luce."
"you know, actions speak louder than words," lucy said. you didn't even have to wait for her to tap her cheek before you were leaning in to give her a kiss. lucy was absolutely beaming as she stood up completely, a light pink blush on her cheeks now.
"wait!" you called out as lucy started to move. you stood up and pressed a kiss to her other cheek. "you did both shoes."
"i double knotted both shoes, actually." you put your arm around the back of lucy's neck and pressed a kiss to her lips this time. behind the two of you, jana was gagging while pina and patri pretended to make out. it felt sort of wild that at the beginning of the season, you had been in their group making fun of the other couples on the team before lucy asked you out.
"one day maybe you'll all get girlfriends too and know what it's like for someone other than your mothers to love you," lucy teased. you swatted at her arm as you mumbled for her to be nice. pina and jana both grumbled as they sat back, but patri started to launch into a full blown rant about how she was more than happy being the "barcelona stallion" and sleeping around for the time being.
"do you see what you've started?" you asked, but lucy showed absolutely no remorse. she just grabbed your hand and walked you out of the locker room to get properly ready for the interview.
"alright, we're just going to play a simple game of 'most likely to' today. i'll ask a question, and you just point to whoever it most likely to do that thing." both you and lucy nodded, having a good understanding of the game. "first question, who is most likely to accidentally sleep in?"
"pssh, this is an easy one," lucy said as she pointed at you. admittedly, you had overslept quite a few times over the course of the season, resulting in both you and lucy being late to training. lucy was a lot worse at getting you up than alexia had been, the other woman often resorting to literally dragging you out of bed in your first senior season at barcelona.
"hey, my brain needs the sleep. it's still developing!" you tried to argue. lucy just laughed, knowing that you usually overslept because you stayed up way too late the night before. although, she did know that you could sleep absolutely anywhere, which she was slightly jealous of.
"who is most likely to burn dinner?" this time, your hand shot straight over to lucy. you had several legitimate examples of her doing this while trying to make sense of a spanish recipe. it was less that she was a bad cook and more that lucy was too stubborn to ask you for a translation.
"it was one time," lucy grumbled. you smiled and pressed a kiss to her cheek, which had her swatting you away from her with a pout.
"who is most likely to get a little too wild on a night out?" this question was a plant and you knew it. someone had to have told them to put this in to embarrass you, probably patri or mapi. they had been the two who had fed you shot after shot on a yacht just a few months ago, resulting in a unique combination of seasickness and drunken puking.
"life of the party this one," lucy teased. she reached over to pinch at your cheeks, earning herself a sharp slap to the knee. "and a bit mean. i don't know how i put up with her."
"whatever," you huffed as you crossed your arms.
"who is most likely to have an extra cheat day?"
"she actually has more in her meal plan than me," lucy answered. you couldn't argue with her there, thankful for the fact that you burned through calories more due to your extra strength training. jona and the other coaches had agreed to let you bulk up a bit, and it was definitely paying off on the field.
"i mean, look at these muscles." you flexed for the camera, knowing that it would end up in endless thirst edits later on. you reached for the bottom of your shirt, but lucy stopped you. she didn't mind you being a bit goofy, but she tended to get jealous when you actively showed off.
"who is most likely to get a little hotheaded?" your hand shot over to point at lucy, who had definitely snapped at some of your friends and teammates for getting a little too close to you. lucy shrank back in her seat, embarrassed from being called out.
"i can't help it. look at her!" lucy shouted as she threw her arms up.
"who is most likely to be considered whipped?"
"oh without a doubt lucy."
"(y/n)." both you and lucy looked at each other for a couple of moments before lucy recanted her answer. "from the outside, it may look like i do a lot for her, so maybe it is me."
"alright ladies, we are almost finished. just one more question, who is most likely to be the little spoon?" this time, you knew exactly who had asked this question. surprisingly, it wasn't any of your friends, but rather alexia. she had walked into your bedroom to wake you up for training only to find lucy bronze fast asleep in your arms while you watched her. lucy claimed to have not felt good, but alexia knew better.
"someone's taking the piss out of me with these questions," lucy grumbled as both of your hands pointed towards her. "in my defense, sometimes i just turn away because she clings worse than a koala. she just kind of grabs at my back."
"that's almost as good as the excuse you gave alexia," you laughed. the production team called cut on the video, allowing for you and lucy to finally go home. "wow, if i knew that it was that easy for you to admit that you were whipped, i would have just asked to do one of those earlier."
"people didn't know about us earlier," lucy muttered as she pressed a kiss to your lips.
"not officially, but we were the worst kept secret in the league. you did feel me up on the pitch the first game after we got together," you reminded her. lucy huffed as she rolled her eyes, knowing that wasn't the entire truth. you were giving out hugs to everybody, and lucy's hand had simply slipped a little when you jumped into her arms.
you knew immediately the day that the video dropped. the locker room was quiet, but not in a focused way. it was like they were waiting for someone, and once you and lucy were both sitting in there, chaos broke. cata was the first one to sit next to you, putting her arm around your shoulders as she pulled you tightly into her side.
"careful, lucy might get mad. she's a bit of a hothead." if those words had come out of anybody's mouth other than vicky's, lucy would have flipped a little. the fact that it came from the kid's mouth meant that an outburst was narrowly avoided.
"she doesn't seem very clingy to me. are you sure that you don't just like being the little spoon bronzey?" cata asked as she tried to get you to hug her back.
"i think that's enough," lucy said sharply. she walked over and tugged you out of cata's arms. she wrapped her arms around your waist and pressed her face against the side of your neck. "i won't lay a finger on her, but i'll kick your ass coll."
"lucy," you warned. she huffed from behind you and tried to find something to distract herself with. unfortunately for you, the team was intent on riling lucy up for the rest of the practice. it was to the point where you weren't sure that she'd be happy with you when you got home. the interview had been your idea in the first place.
"that lot is due for an ass kicking," lucy groaned and grumbled. you hadn't seen her so grumpy in a long time. she flopped back against the couch and let her head fall back as she closed her eyes. you didn't notice the way that she was waiting for you to come crawl into her lap, not until she cleared her throat. "are you coming over here or not?"
"you want me to sit by you?" you asked her.
"no, i want you on my lap. i want to hold you for a little while, please." lucy pouted up at you. your lips curled up as a wide grin broke out onto your face. you kicked your shoes off and scrambled into lucy's lap, content to let her hold you. you didn't like being the little spoon, but you absolutely loved to curl into your girlfriend's lap at the end of a long practice. "that's better, isn't it?"
"much. te amo, lucy," you mumbled as you pulled her in for a kiss. lucy surprised you by keeping the kiss innocent. she broke it after a few seconds to press her forehead against yours.
"te amo, lovely." lucy brushed her hand through your hair, smirking to herself as you relaxed against her. she may be whipped by everybody else's standards, but you absolutely melted any time that lucy touched you. it was a true testament to just how much you loved her.
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verstappen-cult · 2 days
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SWEET LIKE VANILLA, M. VERSTAPPEN.
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PAIRING. female reader x max verstappen.
SUMMARY — You send Max some ice cream from your brother’s company.
GWEN’S RADIO MESSAGE. i saw a lot of people talking on tw about charles sending max some of LEC ice cream for him to try and i thought. . . why not write that with reader? so here we are. hope you like this silly little thing. comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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“Hey,” You say, scrolling through your phone as your brother flops down next to you. “Could you give me a box of the Vanillove ice cream?”
Charles looks at you for a minute without saying anything, until he shrugs and focuses on the TV. “I thought you hated vanilla.”
“Well, yours is pretty good so,” You shrug, turning to look at him with a pout on your lips and puppy eyes. “Would you do that for your favorite sister?”
“You’re my only sister.” He says, rolling his eyes. “And you’re annoying, but you also know I can’t say no to you.”
“Say no to what?” Arthur pops up from behind the kitchen counter. What is he doing? You don’t know.
“To give me a box of ice cream.”
“You say you couldn’t do that!”
“Of course I can, I just didn’t want to do it for you.” Charles laughs, dodging the water bottle your younger brother throws at him. “Are you two going to the masters this Sunday, right?”
“Yes!” Arthur shouts before disappearing into his room.
“Who is going to the masters again?” Leo wakes up from his nap next to you and climbs on your lap, demanding attention.
“Well, I think Enzo and Charlotte. Lando, Arthur.” He says, checking something on his phone before saying, “And Max.”
Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Max Verstappen.
The thing is, ever since you decided to partner with Joris and help with whatever thing he and Charles needed and, of course, his social media, you’ve been traveling with them since Las Vegas last year. Which means that you’re a constant presence on the paddock these days. And, thanks to that, you’ve become very close with some of the drivers, especially with one more than the others.
You weren’t looking for it, it kind of just happened when you bumped into him at a nightclub in Las Vegas after your own brother ditched you to make out with some random guy in the bathrooms. Max was kind enough to keep you company and then, when your brother stumbled out of the bathroom too drunk to remember his own name, he drove you both back to your hotel. He even made sure you were in your room before saying goodbye and going to his own hotel.
From then on you couldn’t stop bumping into him literally everywhere, so, it was only natural that you’d start making conversation, then following each other on Instagram was just as natural as moving the conversation to text messages (it was easier).
Your friendship has developed so much that you’ve been running together around Monaco lately, after you bumped into him at seven in the morning, surprised to see him running the same path as you.
And if you had a crush on the Red Bull driver before you started to be friendly with each other, well, nobody needs to know that — especially not your brothers or you’ll never hear the end of it. It was hard to act normal around him at first. You were just a girl with a crush, after all. But things have become a lot easier with time to the point of forgetting about the big, fat crush you have on the Dutchman. Well, that is until he does or says something that has you blushing and stuttering and acting like a complete fool in front of him.
Knowing that Max is going to be there this Sunday is equally mortifying, and exciting.
“Oh, okay.” You smile, scratching behind Leo’s ears while your brother has his eyes on you. “I’m coming, by the way.”
Charles hums, “The box is going to be here tomorrow.”
Your belly erupts with butterflies at the thought of what you’re about to do with that box of ice cream.
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It’s Sunday, sunny and everyone is wearing their best clothes while waiting for the match to start.
You’re standing next to Lando, who is talking to Charles about the next race, when you see Max Verstappen coming in.
He’s wearing some blue navy linen pants with a white button down of the same material, a pair of dark sunglasses and his singular smirk.
Max is greeted by your older brother, who is quick to engage in conversation about some random thing you can’t hear from where you are standing.
But then he’s excusing himself and walking over to you.
You don’t know if he’s actually looking at you thanks to the sunglasses covering his eyes, but you feel small and shy nonetheless.
“Hey, mate.” Lando claps his shoulder, making space for Max to stand between you and him.
“Hey,” This time you know he’s looking at you because his entire body is turned in your direction.
“Hey, Maxie.” You say, the corners of your mouth curling up. “Nice clothes.” You cringe the second the words leave your lips. Nice clothes, really?
Max just chuckles before looking over to your brother. “Hey, Charlie. Thanks for the ice cream.”
Oh. My. God.
Shit.
Fuck.
You had forgotten about that.
Well, no. You hadn’t forgotten about it because, in fact, you've been thinking about the box of LEC ice cream that you sent Max all week.
You didn’t think he was going to bring it up, because you were sure he was going to think that Charles was nice enough to send his friend some of his ice cream. Or even that it was some PR move from his part.
However, he brings it up in front of you. And Lando. And the owner of the ice cream who doesn’t know anything about it. All he knows is that you wanted some vanilla ice cream because you said you liked it.
“What are you talking about?” Charles asks, confused. “It’s not being sold in Monaco yet.”
It’s Max’s turn to look confused. “What?” He takes off his sunglasses. And you’re not at all ready to see his deep blue eyes, so you avoid looking up at him. “You sent me a box of… Vanillove is it called? I didn’t know you knew I only liked vanilla.”
You want to die. You want for the earth to swallow you right now.
“Max,” Charles says at the same time you look at him, eyes pleading not to say anything. “What?” He asks you, eyebrows raised in question.
And then you have two more pairs of eyes on you.
You decide, right at that moment, that you’re not going to talk to Charles ever again. Why does everyone talk about that silent connection between siblings where they know what is going on with just a look? Because you, certainly, don’t have it with Charles.
Lando snorts, hands immediately covering his mouth. He looks at you, amusement on his face.
Oh, that is just great. Lando knows.
And your brother still has no clue, “What happens?” He asks again, this time grabbing your arm softly to make you look at him, but your sandals are more interesting.
“The match is about to start.”
Thank God for Lorenzo. You could kiss him just because he came at the right moment to save you from embarrassing yourself even more without even knowing.
Everybody talks and moves at the same time, making their ways over the seats.
“Hey,” Max touches your shoulder, making you turn around. “Are you okay?” Max touches your forehead with the back of his hand and you pray to all the gods above that he doesn’t notice you shivering because of it.
“Oh, yeah, it’s just the sun. It is a little hot.” You smile, dismissing the topic with a wave of your hand.
“I’ll get you some water,” He drops his hand and you immediately miss his warmth. “save me a seat?”
You feel your heart hammering in your ears as you nod, walking away with his question and the little smile that came with it replaying in your head.
You find your seats behind Arthur and his girlfriend, in the rows next to yours separated by the stairs is Charles and Lando, yapping like their lives depend on it, next to them is Lorenzo and Charlotte.
You’re thinking about what to say to Charles because he is, eventually, going to ask you about what is going on and you know he will not rest until you give him an answer. You are a shitty liar, so you need to practice.
Max calls your name, drawing your attention back to the present.
“You have your head in the clouds today.” He hands you a water bottle and you take a long sip, trying to gain some control over yourself.
“I’m sorry.”
“Will you tell me what is going on?” Max looks intently at you, a small smile still on his lips.
You sigh. Well, he needs to know, right? You owe him that.
But then, Max is leaning closer and pushing a strand of hair out of your face, resting his hand in the back of your neck and stroking ever so softly.
“You smell,” He says, closing his eyes for a second and inhaling. “sweet like vanilla.”
His words send a thrill down your spine, words stuck in your throat. Max expression softens, mixed with something you can’t describe.
He rubs his thumb gently over the sensitive skin of your neck.
“You sent the ice cream, didn’t you?”
You take a sharp intake of breath.
The closeness and the warmth emanating from his body along with his touch are making your brain go fuzzy at the edges.
“Y/N?” He smiles at you when you make eye contact, his blue eyes deep as the ocean. “It was you?”
You nod, blood rushing to your cheeks. “Yes.” You breathe, embarrassed and shy and feeling like an idiot.
“I knew it.” He says, chucking. You tilt your head to the side in a silent question. “I told you about my favorite ice cream flavor just a few weeks ago. And suddenly I have a box full of vanilla ice cream from LEC?” Max pulls his hand away, but is still close to you. “I mean, Charles and I are friends but we’re not that close.”
“Oh, God.” You hide your face behind your hands. “I was going to tell you. Eventually.”
“Why didn’t you?”
You look at him from between your fingers. “I don’t know.”
Max sighs, lopsided grin plastered on his face. “Now you have to come to my apartment and help me with them. It’s a lot for one person.” He shrugs, trying to look nonchalant but you see the blush quickly spreading over his cheeks.
“I would love to.”
Max flops his head on your shoulder and gazes up at you with those big blue eyes of his. “It is a date.”
Max definitely doesn’t need to know that you hate vanilla ice cream.
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oxymorayuri · 2 days
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❞𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞❝
Headcanons with my favorite boyssss [ Ace | Kid | Law | Doffy ] Wordcount » 1234 (lol no way... you see it? 1234...) Info » just cute things ;3
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𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: Ace: qmech | Kid: skxviii | Law: oyasumi_mofu | Doffy: Hijiki_DaiXt
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𝑃𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑔𝑎𝑠 𝐷. 𝐴𝑐𝑒
You both get partner tattoos instead of wedding rings but not something lame like a circle around the ring finger rather something small and personal. You have a little flame on the side of your thigh and he has one on his chest that has something to do with you. Maybe you have a devil fruit or a special weapon? It's up to you :p
You never thought you'd cry at your wedding ceremony because Ace let the most beautiful vows EVER leave his lips. His words were typically Ace and in between your tears he made you laugh. You were almost ashamed when it was your turn because you just wanted to repeat a sentence he once said to you but you changed it a bit… "I'm not interested in living a thousand years, it's enough for me to survive today with you." You spoke. Ace recognized the words immediately and remembered the conversation you shared in the past with a broad grin. He almost yanked you to him and kissed your lips even though the priest hadn't even given his blessing yet. But he doesn't care, he doesn't need the priest's blessings when he has you.
He definitely had his own thoughts about the wedding. For example, he has looked into various traditions… but it seems like he got something wrong… Instead of carrying you bridal style over the doorstep, he carried you all day. As soon as you set foot on the floor to get a new drink, he picked you up in his arms. His statement? "Come on love, when will I have the chance to carry you in your wedding dress again?". Okay that's smooth.
𝐸𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑠 𝐾𝑖𝑑
Kid probably would never have proposed to you on his own. You've been together for so long now and every time you've seen a married couple your mood has soured. You were annoyed and also disgusted and one day Killer asked you about it and in the conversation you ironically realized that you also wanted to get married lol… when you were with Kid in his workshop you casually mentioned, that you thought it would be a good idea for the two of you to get married as he was working on one of his new creations. He froze at the word marriage and the next second his machine caught fire because he held the welding rod on it for too long. You both panicked and put out the fire and you realized that he found the topic unpleasant and unnecessary, but you are you and you get everything you want, even if you have to force him! Luckily for you, Killer told you that Kid likes the idea of you committing to him forever, but pshht… otherwise Killer will lose his life.
He will send you away if you want to ask him something about the wedding planning or want his opinion. He'll just tell you that you can do whatever you think is necessary (ugh). You think it's a bit of a shame but you don't mind, you just want him to feel comfortable at his own wedding. After all, it's not just yours. But if it were up to him, he would simply put the ring on your finger and seal your marriage with a big smooch on the lips. But later in the evening you notice that he has circled options he likes or left little notes on your wedding plans and that's when you know you're marrying the right one.
he forges your rings and is quite proud of his work, but secretly nags Killer that he is unsure whether you like the rings. When he saw the sparkle in your eyes and heard your words about how much you love the rings, his heart stopped for a moment only to beat extremely fast. He wanted to marry you right on the spot, but he knows how much love you put into the planning. Happy wife happy life lol.
𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑎𝑟 𝐷. 𝑊𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐿𝑎𝑤
A grand wedding with everyone (including the straw hats etc.) is planned, but he has other plans and takes you to the most romantic place to have a wedding ceremony just for the two of you. The party can still take place afterwards with everyone, you are a little social butterfly after all, but the wedding ceremony? That's between you and him <3
Law, similar to Ace, would want partner tattoos instead of real rings but rather in an intimate place where only both of you will see it… if you know what I mean ;) It's safe to say he'll shower your tattoo with kisses everytime when you're getting busy.
He has already seen you (without you knowing it) in your wedding dress. He knew exactly what was going on when you waltzed happily past him with a big package... And even if he hesitated for a moment, he followed you discreetly like a pretty good stalker… He peered through the gap of the door to the room you shared. You were apparently so excited that you hadn't even closed the door. He heard you squealing happily in the bathroom and without really realizing it, he held his breath until you came out of the bathroom. And then you stood there in your beautiful white dress. The feeling in his chest increased rapidly as he watched you twirl in front of the mirror like a princess. Your laughter makes him grin… "I guess she's just as happy as I am that we're getting married..." he thought to himself with a satisfied expression as he let go of the door and walked away. He leaves you a little moment for yourself and your joy, he'll see you walking towards him soon anyway. He is pretty sure that he will never forget that moment. The sight of you walking towards him will be engraved in his brain.
𝐷𝑜𝑛𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑡𝑒 𝐷𝑜𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑜
You want fireworks that paint your faces in the sky? A thousand white doves that are released when you kiss? A 10 meter high chocolate fountain? A wedding in pink? No problem. Your list is long and you get everything you want. Doflamingo will put together the perfect team to fulfill your every wish. Money doesn't matter, but you do.
You get a ring with a gemstone you've never seen before. Even if you express your doubts that you are afraid of losing this precious ring, Doffy reacts almost insulted. You are the rarest and most valuable gemstone in the world. If you lose the ring, he'll have a new one before you know it.
It's going to be a big big wedding BUT not many people are invited because there's a chance of someone ruining it. Whoever is invited is a big figure or part of the family. Everything is secured but not in an oppressive way. It all plays in the background, because if there were security guards everywhere it would ruin your perfect wedding picture. Nobody is allowed to ruin this day for you and him and if they do, they will pay for it. He also has the wedding broadcast live on TV so that everyone can see that he's marrying the most beautiful woman in the world. How extra.
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I hope you enjoyed reading it. See you next time <3
𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒚𝒖𝒓𝒊 ♡
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missmugiwara · 18 hours
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A Secret
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Summary: gn!reader x Luffy // What happens when you tell the captain a secret? Turns out, it makes him really happy! And he only wants more.
Warning: 18+, suggestive, very flirty, did I make Luffy a slight dom?
Note: I think one of my favorite things about writing for Luffy is that it's kind of hard. But he's my sweetie pie so I'm not complaining.
✦ Word count is 2.2k ✦
Luffy's strength was no secret.
Everyone knew that. It was also no secret that he always got stronger. Sometimes, it seemed like the Straw Hat Pirates were always moving from one adventure to the next, never taking a break. So how did Luffy have the time between fights to find new moves and new gears to try?
Maybe he didn't do it as much as Zoro, but there were instances where you caught the captain training. Sometimes it was on boring days like today where you happened to be parked at some random island for Franky to do routine maintenance to the Sunny.
Luffy's breath was heavy, mouth wide open to release hot pants. His red ruffle-sleeved shirt and yellow sash were chucked off to the side, bunched in a sloppy pile on the ground with his precious straw hat gingerly laid on top. His scarred chest heaved with each breath he took, muscles tensing deliciously. A thin layer of sweat covered his entire body, forming delicate beads of moisture to glisten in the sun. His hair splayed across his forehead and around his face in cute, damp waves from the moisture. It was certainly a sight to behold. The captain was positively mouthwatering, and only one thing crossed your mind at that moment.
You loved him so much.
It was always so hard to take your eyes off him. With feet crunching against the grass, you walked up some distance behind him and just silently admired. A tender smile etched its way onto your lips, and you sighed longingly at Luffy. He had one fist pulled back, while his other free hand - palm outstretched, thumb pointed downward - took aim at the air, and he punched. He repeated this move again and again, grunting and panting the entire time. As he continued with that focused, steady gaze in his eyes. As beads of sweat flew off his body.
He was so strong.
Did anyone ever tell him he looked so good?
A warm heat feathered over your cheeks, and your eyes perked up at the thought. And so, feeling rather bold, you snickered and took a step forward. You almost changed your mind. Then, using every ounce of courage, you merrily called after him.
"Luffy!"
The rubber man turned lazily to the call of his name. With an open-mouth releasing more pants, he tiredly smiled. And then his gaze grew more excited when he registered it was you of all people who called with such adoration. You, who was running toward him. You, who he could never get mad at. You, who lit up with joy every moment you saw him.
The sweetest face he had ever seen, and all his. Well, you were your own person - he didn't own you, and he knew that. But you were his. Somehow. His crewmate. His friend. His… something.
One day, he would gladly say the words: you're so much more to him. That much he knew, but what word could he use? Luffy always knew how to get right to the heart of things that needed saying most - but not today. Seeing your smile was enough, and there was way too much on his mind regarding everyone's safety in Wano.
"Do you wanna know a secret?" you grinned.
A secret? And just for his ears only? He already felt special enough with that smile you gave him. Nobody else ever got that smile.
You slowed to a stop when you collided into his back, pressing your chest to him. You didn't give him a chance to answer when you wrapped one arm around him, gently slapping your hand to his chest. The sweat upon him sticking you to him, and you did not care in the slightest how much it made your shirt wet. With the other free hand, you cupped it to his ear.
"Hey, did you know…" and you whispered into his ear, lips brushing against the shell of it as Luffy's eyes slowly widened.
The words were nearly lost in the breeze.
A red blush dusted over his cheeks, and his lips parted in response. Before he could turn and ask if you reeeally meant what you just said, you giggled and peeled yourself from him. You stepped back, hands clasped innocently behind your back and grinning so much that your eyes clamped shut.
"Huh? Really?" Luffy asked in disbelief.
"Oh, yes!" you nodded your head erratically.
Luffy still stared in shock, and you still smiled. There was a pause before the captain blinked at you, then smirked. He stood a bit taller and a bit prouder, puffing out his chest. He turned back but to a tree this time, taking his usual fighting stance. His fist flew back, and then forward as he launched it into the tree - completely breaking it in two as it fell to the ground with a loud thud. A few of your friends looked up in worry at the loud noise, then disregarded it once they realized it was just Luffy being Luffy. You beamed widely as ever, before giving a wave and returning to your spot next to Robin. She was seated underneath an umbrella and sipping tea.
She smiled and poured a cup for you. Trying not to come off as pyring, she asked, "What did you tell Luffy to put him in such a good mood?"
You grabbed the cup of tea and smiled profusely. She wouldn't dare tease you like the others if you answered honestly. Robin could be told things you could not tell others. And she knew you liked the captain very much so.
"I just told him… well, I said: hey, did you know that you're really sexy?"
Robin seemed surprised at the unexpectedly brazen comment. She was looking down at her cup, then her blue eyes immediately darted to meet yours. You said that to Luffy? A pause before she grinned.
"Oh? Is that so? I'm happy for you."
And Luffy seemed pretty happy about it too.
It was a major risk you took that day, but since then you were smitten even moreso because he responded in such a… pleasant way. So Luffy was the kind of person who understood sex appeal. It was settled then - you wanted to flirt more. You wanted to be more vocal about how you felt. To drop more hints, as ironic as it was because Luffy didn't need subtlety; he needed blunt words. However, the rising butterflies in your stomach told you that testing the waters was further needed. It was really just an excuse to cover up a rising bout of shyness.
It seemed he was not as naïve as his crewmates thought, and he truly understood this game. And really, how did anyone not notice how attractive he was? Zoro and Sanji got attention all the time, but what about the captain? The star of the crew? He was certainly charming in his own ways. And so this game of yours did not let up anytime soon.
"Who's that good-looking guy in the straw hat?"
You waved at him, calling out with a hand cupped to your mouth. Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji walked toward the ship after being in town to buy supplies. Each of them had sacks of food tied to their backs, and Luffy broke out into a huge ear-to-ear smile. He laughed, a blush ever-present at his face. Zoro rolled his eyes, and Sanji's smile faded when he realized - oh, you were speaking to the captain, not him.
"Me? Oh, stop!" and Luffy would blush and blush, identical to the way he blushed when any of his crewmates said he was strong or reliable. The sight was too cute not to eat up. At least he was getting it now, because the first time you said that Luffy whipped his head around. With squinted eyes, he kept asking who was this guy until you bursted out laughing. This was really funny because it was so cute and so like him to do that.
"What a man."
You would purr so lowly when he passed by, especially if he had just defended the weak and beat someone up - panting, sweaty, delicious as usual. Boy, was being in Wano such a treat. Luffy's ears would prick at the sound of your honeyed tone, and sometimes they turned red. He would quickly turn to meet your lidded gaze, your eyes wandering up and down his shirtless self - and the blush would return to his face. He would break out into a loud laugh after he processed the words you graced him with.
The flirting was fun, truly. Yet sometimes you wondered if anything more would happen after all the effort. It had to, right?
What were you even waiting for?
Such questions did not cross your mind at this particular moment though. As usual, Robin and you were passing the time once again while the Sunny sailed off to another adventure. The topic of conversation was another good book you both had read in your little two-person bookclub. Luffy walked by, a tiny smirk at his lips, as you and Robin laughed about something silly in the last chapter.
Luffy froze once he got past far enough. Something was off. Quickly, he whipped his head around to furrow his brows in frustration. He pointed his gaze at you… and pouted. A cute grumble escaped his lips, and with his fists balled to his sides and arms swaying, he tromped right over.
Between the fits of laughter and conversing, you didn't even hear Luffy's feet crunch in the grass behind you - picking up speed. And what really took you by surprise was when one of Luffy's rubbery hands suddenly grasped your jaw between his thumb and fingers, and he turned your face so you could see him. It went without saying that the laughter immediately stopped, and you and the archaelogist froze in place.
You blinked once. Luffy just held your face, not enough to hurt you because he would never, as you two locked gazes. His breath felt hot on your lips. In turn, your own breath was caught in your chest as your face ignited into flustered heat because - well, because he never held you like this and at such closeness too. Something must have been troubling him.
"What's… what's wrong, captain?"
Oh, you were right about something being wrong. Luffy cocked his head to the side in an attempt to deepen his focus. He was really studying your face, and it only got warmer the more he stared.
"You didn't say anything!" he whined.
Another blink or two from you, and Luffy's grip loosened on your face.
"Loofs, I really have no idea what you're talking about."
"You didn't say anything… you know - fun and nice. To me. Like you always do."
Another moment for you to process, and the lightbulb went off in your head. Ohhh! He wanted another - oh, yes. You almost wanted to laugh because apparently it was really that much of a habit by now.
How dare you forget to take care of your precious captain?
With face still in his hand, your eyes darted off to the side. For the third time, your cheeks went even hotter. And you didn't know why this bout of shyness ran over you all of a sudden. Perhaps it was because you were the one always catching him off guard, flustering him so deeply. Not the other way around. So you took a second to think, but you hadn't planned anything yet for that day. So in a small voice, you answered him quickly, truthfully, and without much thought.
"Hottie."
You nearly moaned under your breath. The blush dusting over his rubbery cheeks and the wide smile he bore was enough to let you know he was satisfied. Robin sat in awe (you two completely forgot she was still there) but then brought a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggle.
And Luffy grinned.
"Keep talking like that. I like it!"
Oh, the way he looked at you made your heart thrum in your chest. The way he held your face, making you lock eyes. Gently, he released your frazzled self. Your jaw dropped into a suprised, open-mouthed smile. Trying to ignore the fact that Luffy said he liked it, you diverted your attention to the first part of his somewhat confession.
"Oh, you think you can boss me around like that, huh?" You smirked, taking a playful tone to let him know you were joking.
Luffy was walking away, but he paused midstep. He turned his head to peek over his shoulder, his bright eyes staring directly into your soul. The wind blew to ruffle his jet black hair and the brim of his beloved straw hat before his eyes grew lidded.
"Of course! I'm the captain here. Besides… you looove doing what I say. You always do, and you never refuse."
With that, he walked off.
And there you sat, flustered to oblivion as you brought a hand to to cover your growing smile. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Robin wink.
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bitterchocoo · 2 days
Text
Well Deserved Rest
Dr. Veritas Ratio | M. Reader as Medicine Pocket [Reverse: 1999]
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Tsundere Ratio will forever live rent free in my head. That was totally canon!
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"Hey hey! Veritas!"
That annoying voice again.. how many times has he heard it today? It's so annoying.. so high pitched and loud, like a dog, happily barking at their favorite person.
"For the last time, it's Dr. Ratio! Don't call me by name so casually!" He groans at the other's enthusiasm and seemingly endless energy. For the past few years he had known the researcher. [Name] never fails to get on his nerves. Be it the constant teasing or the dog-like demeanor. The only thing he ever decided to tolerate the man is because of his reputation for being a genius amongst geniuses and gaining his current position when he was a mere teenager.
"Look look! I made this serum that presumably—" "I swear if this is one of your unauthorized experiments!"
Not only is he a genius amongst geniuses.. [Name] seems to have a reputation of doing whatever the hell he wants. Paperwork? That can wait! Research? Why should he care about following the status quo? Only when something had caught his attention, that's when the researcher began to actually do his work.
Sometimes Ratio feels like he's babysitting a child—or rather a dog. Given the other's background.
How many times has [Name] decided to chew on the ends of his robe? How many times has [Name] licked his cheek without a second thought?
Honestly...
"Aw come on, Veritas! Can't you live a little?" [Name] asked teasingly, tilting his head to the side, acting all adorable in order to persuade the doctor. Which didn't work. Or so he told himself. "It's not living if you constantly experiment on dangerous unauthorized things! It's called being foolish!"
This earns a chuckle from the other. He sure knows how to get on Ratio's nerves like it's merely looking at the back of his hand. It seems like second nature to him. "You're so boring! Didn't take you to be a stickler to the rules!"
"It's called self preservation!"
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How did this happen..? How in the galaxy had he managed to land himself in this position..? What is it? Nap time? He's out like a light!
Earlier, [Name] had decided to annoy him again, typical, but Ratio was having none of it. So like any other sane person, he ignores the genius in favor of the book he's currently reading. But of course that didn't stop [Name] from teasing and poking him. Trying to get a reaction.
But as time went on. The researcher seems to have worn himself out and started to doze off. Now, Ratio sits there with a book in hand but despite that, his mind was in other places as his gaze shifted towards the sleeping genius who had his head on his shoulder and his right arm being hugged by the other in his sleep.
He's out like a light! What time even is it? Nap time? Maybe it's [Name]'s constant all-nighter he pulls whenever he's so absorbed by his research and experiment? Or is this a by product of his dog-like nature?
Either way, this can't continue!
But when Ratio tries to wake him up, [Name] doesn't seem to respond to it, at all. Sleeping like a rock. So... Ratio decided to just.. let him rest..
Maybe he needs it?
Every time Ratio tries to focus on the book he's reading his mind would always drift towards the sleeping researcher that's using him as a human pillow.
He could feel [Name]'s warm breath hitting his exposed biceps, his shallow and calm breathing, it never fails to send a shiver down his spine. He's so.. comfortable.. so.. at peace..
He's far different than the usual hyperactive, seemingly endless energy researcher he's known for! And that.. makes him feel.. warm..
To think he'll have the honors of witnessing such a rare, vulnerable, and.. intimate side of [Name].. it's..
Ratio snapped out of his thoughts once he felt the other began to stir and slowly woke up from their nap. A nice and comfortable nap. [Name] blinks, once, twice. Before letting out an adorable yawn.
Letting out an annoyed sigh, Ratio spoke up, his voice laced with sarcasm. "I assume you've had a nice nap."
"Oh I did! It was sooo nice~" [Name] took the chance to tease the other as he hugged Ratio's arm closer to his chest with a huge grin plastered on his face. The doctor huffs as he begins trying to shake the other's hold on his arm. "Then get off of me, you damn dog. My arm is tired."
[Name] chuckles in response as he tightens his grip. He hums softly and rests his cheek on Ratio's shoulder, looking at him with big puppy eyes. Trying to act all cute and adorable. "But if your arm's tired, why didn't you just shoved me? You could have done that earlier, right doctor?"
This caught him off guard for a few moments. What is he supposed to say to that? [Name] let out a gasp upon seeing his hesitation. "Don't tell me that you actually enjoy it! Aw~ Ratio you could have just said so! I could have been your cuddle buddy from the start!"
"Cuddle buddy!? How absurd! You dare think that I—Dr. Veritas Ratio. Would ever need such things!? Especially from you?!"
"But your face is red~ I'm right aren't I~?"
"?!"
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corroded-hellfire · 2 days
Note
Continuing on with my baby fever I came across videos of parents "laying" (softly hovering) on their babies lap to see their reaction. Some babies are gentle with one parent and push of the other parent. But I wanna see how Eliza would react to the entire Munson family doing this. Thank you!
Baby fever you say? 👀 Step into my office…
Honestly, looking up reference videos for this fic was the most heart melting thing ever and I thank you for bringing that into my life. I hope I have done this justice for you!
Words: 3.1k
[As You Wish masterlist]
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“Ugh,” Luke groans as he flops down on the floor of Eliza’s nursery. The Minnie Mouse shirt and pair of toddler jeans he’s holding smack him in the face as his dramatics bring him down.
Eliza sits on her miniature butterfly couch and watches her brother, face stoic as the two-year-old is used to the theatrics he’s inherited from their father. 
“What is taking so long?” Ryan strolls into the room and leans against the door jamb. He crosses his arms over his chest and arches an eyebrow as he clocks his brother on the ground. 
Flinging the articles of clothing behind him, Luke huffs and turns his head to meet Ryan’s questioning look.
“Every outfit I pick out she doesn’t like!”
Heaving a loud sigh, Ryan saunters over to the closet tucked into the corner of the pink room. Curious as to what he’s doing, Eliza cranes her neck in an attempt to see past her oldest brother. Try as she might though, she doesn’t have x-ray vision and has to wait for Ryan to turn around to see the black and white striped dress and pastel green sweater.
“Eh?” Ryan raises his eyebrows as he holds the items out towards the toddler.
Keeping her chin high, little Eliza looks over the proposed outfit before nodding her affirmation once. 
“What?” Luke shouts as he bolts upright. “The Minnie Mouse shirt is way better!”
Ryan throws a smirk over his shoulder at his younger brother as he helps Eliza get changed into the winning look of the day. 
“She must love me more.”
“Uh, no,” Eliza hums as her head pops free from the confines of the dress. “Better clothes.”
Luke cackles with laughter, arms crossing against his stomach as he falls on his back once more.
“Oh, that’s too good! Please, we all know I’m her favorite,” Luke says.  
At only two-years-old Eliza is already used to her brothers competing in almost every aspect of life. She rolls her doe brown eyes and allows Ryan to help her into the green sweater before leaving the two boys alone in her room. 
“I seem to recall us having this argument before and Grandpa somehow coming out the winner,” Ryan says, following the little girl’s lead and heading towards the door. 
“Well,” Luke says, stretching out the word as he scrambles to push himself up into a standing position, “then this time we don’t allow him to be part of our bet.”
The older Munson brother shakes his head in amusement as he walks out into the hall and to the right, towards the rest of the house. Luke is right behind him though, practically nipping at his heels as he waits for some kind of response. 
“What bet?” Ryan asks, stepping into the kitchen.
“Yeah, what bet?” Eddie echoes, eyeing his two sons over his “#1 Dad” coffee mug where he leans against the counter. 
“Seeing who Eliza’s favorite is. And not Grandpa this time,” Luke informs his dad as he slides into a chair at the table. 
“I believe that would be me,” you say with a proud smirk, traipsing in from the living room with an empty sippy cup. “I just turned on Rolie Polie Olie for her.” 
“No one can compete with the Rol,” Eddie jokes, giving you a playful wink and a smile. 
“She definitely loves that show more than she loves any of us,” Ryan says. He yanks the refrigerator door open and stares inside as if something new is magically going to appear before his eyes. 
“I bet I could interrupt it and she’d be okay with it,” your husband says. “And will you either grab something out of the fridge or close the damn door?”
“So, you’re saying you’re the favorite, Dad?” Luke asks, eyebrows disappearing into the curls that are getting too long for his liking. 
“Isn’t that old news?” Eddie asks with a smirk as he walks over to grab Luke’s box of Lucky Charms. 
“Everything about you is old,” Ryan says.
The joke has your hand slipping, causing the apple juice you were refilling Eliza’s sippy cup with to spill all over the counter. Avoiding Eddie’s eyes, you try to hide your snort of laughter as you grab a towel to mop up the mess. Once the sippy cup is successfully filled up, you turn back towards the living room—Eddie’s eyes still firmly burning your back—and go to give your daughter her drink. 
“Didn’t we already do this? I feel like we played this game before,” you say. “Eliza picked Wayne over all of us.”
Eddie shrugs and takes another sip of his coffee. “No beating the old man. The actual old man.” Eddie narrows his eyes at Ryan, who just chuckles in return. 
“No,” Luke says. He shakes his head as he lets the marshmallow cereal fall into his bowl. “We have to know who her favorite in the house is.” 
“Any ideas?” Ryan asks, plopping down in the seat across the table from his little brother. 
“Hmm,” Luke hums as he chews on a bite of his breakfast. “I’ll brainstorm at school today.”
In the end, it’s you who comes up with the idea that sets the competition into motion. Once Eddie heads out to work and the boys to school, you realize how much you’re able to get done around the house because Eliza is thoroughly hypnotized by her favorite show. It’s not until the hour of Rolie Polie Olie is done that Eliza is running around the house, wanting to play with every toy under the roof. 
After dinner that night, and once Eliza is in bed, you bring your idea up to the boys.
“So, like, we take turns? One person a day?” Luke asks.
You nod in confirmation.
“Right. Because if we all did it one after the other on the same day, she’d get cranky and it wouldn’t be fair for whoever goes last.”
“What, we like, pick straws?” Ryan asks. “Then someone goes Tuesday, then Wednesday...?”
“I’m game,” Eddie says. He lifts one flannel-clad arm and rests it behind you on the couch, giving you the perfect opportunity to snuggle into his side. 
“So…” Luke muses as he walks over to the couch and takes a seat next to you, on the opposite side of Eddie. “We just put our heads in her lap like this?” The younger Munson boy demonstrates by laying his curly head on your thighs, staring up at you with wide blue eyes. 
“Exactly,” you say, reaching down to boop the tip of his nose. “See if she cuddles you or pushes you off. And then we’ll see who she has the best reaction to.”
“I like it,” Ryan says.
“Me too,” Luke agrees. “Ryan, go get straws. Cut one short!”
With an irritated eye roll, Ryan does as his little brother says, feet shuffling along the carpet as he goes. 
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The plan springs into action the next day. According to the laws of the straws, Ryan was up first. Followed by Luke, you, and then Eddie rounds it out. 
Tuesday morning starts off like every other weekday, everyone running through their routines to get ready for whatever lies ahead for them that day. Once Eliza is dressed in her purple long sleeve shirt, pink overalls, and her morning apple juice is finished, it’s time for the games to begin. 
You, Eddie, and Luke watch as inconspicuously as you can from the kitchen entryway as Ryan approaches the couch. Your daughter’s eyes never leave the little yellow robots, even as her oldest brother kneels on the dusty-brown cushion next to her and keeps scooting closer. 
Eliza’s leaning back, her legs out straight in front of her, and Ryan takes advantage of the open space to lay his head right down on her little knees. The two-year-old just seems confused at first. She looks down at Ryan, back up to Rolie, down to Ryan, up to Rolie, then back down to Ryan again. After staring down at her big brother for a little while, Eliza reaches for his head and begins to card her tiny fingers through his golden-brown locks. Her hands continue the movements even as she turns her attention back to the television screen. Ryan can’t help but smile; it actually feels really nice. She keeps up the motions until there’s a commercial. Then Ryan rolls on his back to look up at her and she giggles down at him in return, not sure what he’s doing, but happy to have his attention. 
“Do you want me to stay?” Ryan asks.
Instead of answering verbally, Eliza wraps her arms around her big brother’s neck and settles back against the cushions. 
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Ryan says with a chuckle, before adding under his breath, “and as a win.”
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Wednesday, it’s Luke’s turn. Once Eliza’s got her favorite show on and a cup of apple juice in her, he makes his move. It’s clear from the moment Luke’s head hits her lap that Eliza is in a feistier mood today. Whether she woke up like that or Luke brings it out of her is anyone’s guess. 
“Ow,” Luke groans as two small hands beat down on the side of his head as if it’s a drum. The boy winces, face scrunching up, but as you watch him alongside Eddie and Ryan from around the corner, you can tell Luke is trying to stick it out and see if he can somehow salvage a win. There’s a brief glimmer of hope when Eliza stops percussing on her brother’s head. However, it’s short-lived. 
Short, stubby fingers make their way up to Luke’s curls and the youngest Munson boy breathes a sigh of relief, seeing as how gentle the toddler was with Ryan’s hair the day before. The problem, they discover, is that since Luke’s curls are far tighter than his older brother’s, Eliza’s fingers quickly get caught in them. 
“Oh, please no,” Luke murmurs, but it’s too late.
Eliza tries to yank her hands free, frustrated that her fingers can’t run smoothly through his locks like she did for their eldest sibling. She pulls Luke’s hair while letting out her own whine.
“Ouch! Why are you whining? I’m the one who’s about to be bald!”
Next to you, Eddie lets out a snort of laughter. 
“Bald?” Eddie says. “Wayne? That you?”
Giving a roll of your eyes, you gently swat at his stomach. Luke also hears his dad’s remark and gives him a glare from the couch as he tries to wrestle himself free from the toddler’s grip. 
Finally, Eliza is able to slip her hands free from the rat’s nest that’s become of Luke’s hair—thanks to her. She’s thoroughly annoyed now and grumbles a few low groans, giving up on words completely. If she were old enough to know swear words, she’d definitely be using those.
Luke breathes a sigh of relief and raises a hand to rub at his sore scalp. Before he can make contact though, both of Eliza’s hands splay flat on the back of his skull and she gives a hard shove. The implication is clear: get off my lap.
Not willing to risk any more of her tiny wrath, Luke rolls off her and off the couch altogether. He lands with a thud on the carpet and gets the chance to rub at his head at last. His eyes narrow as he looks up at Eliza, who is no longer paying him any mind. She’s immersed in Rolie Polie Olie once again, the rest of the world forgotten. 
Your youngest son pushes himself to his feet with a huff. He shuffles back towards the kitchen, back towards the rest of you.
“I don’t wanna hear it,” he mumbles as he passes, heading straight for the fridge. 
To Eddie and Ryan’s credit, they do both stay silent as the three of you turn to watch Luke yank a Yoo-Hoo out of the refrigerator and pop the top. He chugs down half the bottle before wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand. 
“Ugh,” Luke says with a sigh as he heads toward the hallway. “It’s not even 8 am yet.”
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With both of the boys’ attempts out of the way, you’re up. You debate going in straight for the lap when you give her the purple sippy cup of apple juice, but something tells you that you’d end up with a wet and sticky face though. Instead, you wait until most of the beverage is gone and she’s let the bottle roll out of her hand onto the cushion next to her. 
“Good luck, babe,” Eddie says, giving your ass a pat before you walk out into the living room. 
As soon as your knee touches the couch, the television show your daughter is so transfixed on goes to commercial. She turns her head to look at you, large brown eyes sparkling with curiosity. 
You freeze, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. It’s odd to be struck still and silent by your two-year-old, but here you are. Rolie Polie Olie being on a commercial break could either make or break this for you. 
“Mama!” Eliza chirps.
A breath loses from your chest, and you give her a grin as you move to lay your head on her little legs. The moment your body makes contact with hers, Eliza’s arms encircle you as much as they possibly can, and she leans down to rest her head against yours. Her cheek smooshes against yours, her chin bumping into the corner of your eye. 
Warmth floods through you, your heart growing three sizes as she lays all her body weight against yours.
“Hold on,” you hear Luke mutter from the kitchen, “wait to see what happens when the show comes back.”
There are only about forty-five seconds until just that happens. 
Eliza’s skin brushes against your cheek as she adjusts her head to get a better view of the television, but otherwise stays where she is. In fact, it feels as if she cuddles into you even further as she settles in to watch her favorite show. 
“Oh, come on,” you hear Luke complain. The twelve-year-old is clearly not happy that he is losing this competition so far. It’s not as if Eliza could be bribed, though. Luckily, toddlers haven’t been corrupted by life yet. 
Luke walks into the room and stands at the side of the couch, hands resting on his hips. 
“Comfy, are we?” he asks. 
It’s evident your daughter is quite cozy as she doesn’t look up at her brother or move for the rest of the episode. 
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“All right,” Eddie says, rubbing his hands together. “Saved the best for last.”
“Debatable,” Ryan says as he chomps on a granola bar. 
Your husband flicks Ryan’s black-rimmed glasses so they slide down his nose. With a huff that sounds far more sophisticated than one coming from a fourteen-year-old, your son shakes it off. 
“Ready?” you ask, slipping your arms around Eddie’s waist. 
“Always up for snuggles with my girls.” 
A wet, smacking kiss is placed on your cheek, and you let out a soft giggle.
“Gross,” Luke groans.
“I know you are, but what am I?” Eddie taunts, proving he’s as mature as his adolescent sons. 
You let your arms drop from around his middle and you cup Eddie’s cheeks. 
“Go get her,” you say.
He pecks your lips before heading out into the living room.
Eliza is as entranced as always in her cartoon and Eddie takes advantage of that by silently sidling up to her. She doesn’t even realize he’s there until the couch dips next to her and her empty sippy cup rolls until it meets Eddie’s jean-clad knee.  
He moves the cup aside and slowly lowers himself until he’s able to rest his head in his daughter’s lap. 
At first, it’s as if Eliza doesn’t even notice. She’s watching her show, letting her dad just lay down on her. But after a few seconds, her stare breaks from the television and her brown eyes meet matching larger ones. Her head tilts to the side, inspecting him, and her curls bob with the motion. Eddie smiles up at her and a slow grin grows on her face in return. 
One of Eliza’s tiny hands splays across Eddie’s forehead, some of his bangs getting pushed to the side, and some getting caught under her warm palm. Her other hand lands on his chin, delicate fingers curving around his jaw and rubbing against some stubble. 
Eliza stays like that, looking down at her father, not moving. It takes everything in Eddie not to laugh as he just stares back at the inquisitive little face that reminds him so much of you. 
Quickly, Eliza leans in and presses a kiss to the tip of Eddie’s nose. Gone is his urge to laugh, replaced by the most adoring grin as he revels in her affection. He’s about to thank her for the kiss when she leans in to do it again. This time, however, her mouth is open, and she ends up enveloping his nose in her small mouth.
There’s no way Eddie can hold in his laughter this time as he feels her drool dribble up his nose onto his face. The giddiness is infectious because Eliza pulls her mouth off only to begin laughing alongside of him. 
“You might just be as weird as I am,” he tells her, which makes her laugh even harder. 
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That night at dinner, the results are discussed.
“So, who wins?” Ryan asks as he spears some green beans with his fork.
“Not me,” Luke grumbles, slouching down in his chair. 
“Oh, relax,” Eddie says, reaching over and clapping the younger boy on the shoulder. “It’s not like this was scored or anything.”
Luke drops his fork onto the plate with a clang and raises his hands up in front of him.
“My hair ruined it for me! That’s not fair!”
“You know, she can talk now,” you point out, looking at Eliza happily eating in her highchair next to you.
“Good point,” Ryan says. He clears his throat and leans across the table towards her. “Eliza, which of us is your favorite?”
The little girl pops a grape in her mouth and chews, looking like she’s thoughtfully thinking over the question.
“Me,” she finally says.
“No,” Luke says with a shake of his head. “Which of us?” He emphasizes his point by gesturing to the four of you around the table. 
Eliza nods her head once, with finality. “Me.”
Eddie huffs a laugh and shrugs his shoulders.
“Her Majesty has spoken.”
“I don’t think it counts,” Luke laments, looking back down to his plate.
“Yeah, her vote doesn’t count,” Ryan agrees.
You and Eddie share a look of amusement across the table. With these three around, life will never be boring.
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Shaking (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: You have an anxiety attack in a public setting, but luckily, the doctor is there to help you through it.
Word Count: 2450
Warnings: Anxiety attack, mild cursing, mostly just ANGST and then comforting FLUFF
A/N: Wanted to write Spence comforting the reader during a panic attack. Fanfiction is better than therapy, right? At least, it’s cheaper! Also not my GIF
——
“You don’t want to just order it online?” Spencer asked as you walked beside him down the sidewalk. His longer legs would typically mean that he’d be several steps ahead of you, but he always slowed his pace so you wouldn’t have to strain to keep up with him. He also walked on the outside of the path because, let’s face it, he was a gentleman.
You shook your head. “No, I want the whole experience,” you said excitedly as you walked, your face lighting up in anticipation. You were on your way towards a local bookstore, where the third book in your favorite series was being released today. The bookstore was going to be packed, but you were so excited to be one of the first ones in the door, to get your hands on a physical copy. “I don’t ever do things like this, but it’ll be something I think about every time I look at the book sitting on my shelf.”
Spencer nodded, lifting his hand, his thumb and forefinger in an O-shape as he spoke. “Ah, the age-old concept of symbolic treasures. One of the main reasons why souvenirs are such a prevalent part of going on vacation. Did you know the tradition dates back to Ancient Egypt?”
You shook your head as you continued to walk with him. Your boyfriend carried on without fault. “As far back as 2200 B.C, Egyptian Prince Harkhuf traveled to what is now known as Sudan and returned with all sorts of objects to present to his father, the pharaoh,” Spencer explained. His words spat out quickly, compulsively, as though they had to exit his encyclopedic brain. “He brought back items such as incense, ivory, even the skins of leopards to show off to his father.”
“I had no idea,” you told Spencer as you neared the bookstore, smiling sideways at him. You loved it when he spouted off facts like that, like he had to get the information out or else he’d explode. He had confessed to you more than once before that most people found it weird or off-putting or even annoying, but not you. Rather, you loved learning new things. Whatever information he had to share with you was always relevant in one way or another, and it was just one of the reasons why you loved spending time with him - he made you a more knowledgeable, well-rounded person.
Before either of you could say much else, you’d reached the back of the line of the bookstore. You checked the time on your phone. The store would open in about fifteen minutes. The line stretched down at least a full block, from what you could see. Lots of people dressed like characters from the books, shuffling their feet in excited anticipation.
There were at least a hundred people in the line, and after a minute or two, a couple dozen more had filed in behind where you stood. You pursed your lips for a moment, scanning the crowd until your eyes met Spencer’s.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, inclining his head to the side.
You shook your head. “Nothing,” you said. “Just… lot of people.”
Spencer nodded understandingly, then reached down to take your hand. Your fingers twined with his and he squeezed his palm against yours. “I’m right here,” he reminded you. You didn’t love crowds. They always made you feel anxious, perhaps even a little claustrophobic. You and Spencer had gone to a fairly crowded French film festival a few months ago and there hadn’t been an organized line to enter; rather, it had been a cluster of people, all pressed together. And you had felt like you couldn’t breathe. Spencer’d had to pull you to a seat off to the side so you could catch your breath, and you’d missed getting a seat up front like you’d been hoping for.
Right now, you were okay, though. There were people in front of you and behind you, but they weren’t flush against you like they had been waiting for the film festival to open. And Spencer was holding your hand, and you were outside, with the cool, spring morning breeze hitting your face. It was fine. You were going to be fine. You inhaled deeply and exhaled, then nodded your head, feeling the anxiety dissipate. “I’m good,” you told Spencer, looking up at him.
Spencer nodded. He squeezed your hand once again before letting go, only so he could wrap his arm around your shoulders and tug you so you leaned against his chest. He kissed the top of your hair. “It’s going to be just fine,” he promised you, and you just smiled to yourself.
About ten minutes later, the store opened. You only knew that because the line started moving, and more quickly than you thought. You squealed in delight and matched the pace of the people in front of you, Spencer by your side with an amused grin on his face. He loved books just as much as you did, if not more, but this outing was definitely just for you. He’d read the other preceding books in this series (literally just because you asked him to and it took him an hour, tops), but he wasn’t a total geek for it like you were.
You finally made it inside the bookstore, a small business, a local place. You’d been inside several times before, but you hadn’t realized just how small the building actually was until you stepped in now. It was two stories, but everyone was tightly packed, with the people and the bookshelves crowding around you as you made it fully inside the store. There was even a line to go up to the second floor, like a queue at an amusement park.
There was little to no breathing room. Everyone was talking as they waited their turn to grab a copy of the new book, and the sound seemed to bounce off the walls and the ceiling and smack you right in the ear. The air felt thick despite the front door and handful of windows being opened, allowing the cool spring breeze to ruffle the pages of the paperbacks on display.
But it wasn’t refreshing. Rather, it was another stimulant that caused the neurons in your brain to fire even faster. You felt your palms get slick. You felt your heart start to pound, and your knees wobble as you shuffled forward in the line. What were you even waiting in line for? You momentarily forgot, blinking a few times before looking up at the man beside you. Spencer was engrossed in looking around the bookstore, the corners of his mouth quirking upward as he seemed to find something amusing. But when his eyes came full circle back to you, they were immediately filled with concern. “Y/N?” He asked softly, placing a hand on your shoulder.
You couldn’t even hear him. The sound of his voice just bounced off your brain, like you were trapped inside of cellophane. All you could think was trapped. I’m trapped. No way out. Stuck. Caged. Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe.
You felt your breathing go heavy, and your eyes fill up with tears. Your cheeks were red, bright red, judging from how hot you suddenly felt. “Leave,” you managed to choke out, your voice coming out from your throat. It felt like your throat was lined with thorns, like the words you wanted to say kept getting caught.
Spencer nodded. “Leave? Yeah. Yeah, baby, we can leave,” Spencer grabbed your hand, tugging you along behind him as he murmured “excuse me, pardon me,” to the other patrons, to get through the crowd. Moving against the crowd was so much worse than standing still. All those eyes on you, seeing your red face and the anxious tears trickling down your cheeks. It was so embarrassing, freaking out like this is such a public space. Everyone thinks I’m a freak, you thought. Your anxiety became not about the crowd, but about your anxiety, about how you were being perceived. Your breathing picked up, quickened, and by the time Spencer led you out into the morning sun, you were fully hyperventilating.
The thoughts in your head were racing at the speed of light. You hated feeling nervous like this, but moreover, you hated that Spencer had to take care of you because of it. You felt like you had ruined the day because your head wasn’t on straight, because you couldn’t stand in a crowd of people and hear the cacophony of voices and tamp down your panic.
Spencer led you down the block, about twenty feet from the store, away from the crowd, and your breath was still coming out staccato, unstable as you looked down at your shaking hands. You were crying and hyperventilating and the whole world felt like it was spinning. Spencer kept his hold on your hand and stood in front of you, squeezing his palm against yours. His eyes, those light brown irises with little flecks of green, stared into yours. “Hey, Y/N,” he said, bending his knees so his face was level with yours. “Breathe with me, okay?”
You shook your head, your eyes clamping shut. You were so mad at yourself in that moment. You didn’t want to have Spencer take care of you, to have to drag you out of a bookstore because you were having a panic attack. “Baby, you’re trembling,” you heard Spencer’s voice laced with concern. “Look at me. We’ll get through this together.”
You opened your eyes slowly, and that’s when you realized your entire body was shaking. You looked into Spencer’s eyes and he released your hand so he could cup your face. His fingers anchored under your jaw, his thumbs rested on your cheeks, and his eyes were wide, full of worry, but his voice managed to stay soothing and calm. “Follow my breath, Y/N. Do what I’m doing, okay? In for four, hold for four, out for four.”
He inhaled for 4 seconds, and you tried to follow his lead, but you just couldn’t control your lungs. “It’s okay,” he assured you as your brows furrowed, presenting frustration. “C’mon, try again.” He inhaled for 4 seconds, and you managed to match him this time. “Hold for four,” you held your breath while Spencer counted. “And out for four,” you exhaled deeply. “Good, okay, let’s do it again.”
Spencer guided your breath for a few minutes, until you finally felt like you could do it on your own. And when you finally felt yourself coming down from the rush of panic that had sent you into fight-or-flight, you wiped at your wet eyes. “I’m sorry,” you croaked, and Spencer just shook his head.
“No,” he insisted, taking your hand and placing it on his heart. You could feel it beating through his long-sleeved t-shirt. “No, you don’t have to be sorry.” You rubbed your hand against his chest, finding it comforting as you hung your head. “Baby, look at me,” he requested, and you met his eyes.
“Please don’t ever apologize for having an anxiety attack, okay? For one thing, it’s not your fault. You can’t control the chemicals and waves in your brain and how your body reacts to situations,” Spencer began, his hand on top of yours that rested on his chest. You nodded, using the heel of your free hand to wipe away your tears. The crying was over, you were fairly certain, but god, did this suck. “You also should never feel ashamed for having a panic attack, Y/N. It happened, and we’re working through it. It’s a lot like boiling a pot of water, isn’t it?”
You let out a garbled sounding laugh and your brows furrowed. “How so?” You stammered out.
“Well, you set the pot of water on the stove, right?” Spencer began, and you nodded. “And then when it starts to bubble, that’s your anxiety. Some sort of external stimulant - the stove, or, in your case, the overwhelming feeling of being in a crowd - is causing the water to bubble. And when the external stimulant increases in intensity, so too does your anxiety. And sometimes, yeah, the pot boils over.” Spencer shrugged like it was no big deal. “But then you just turn the stove off, grab a dishtowel, and clean up the mess. Problem solved.”
You cracked a half-hearted smile. “So in this metaphor, you’re a dishtowel?” You asked, curling your fingers around the fabric of his shirt.
“Technically, I think it’s a simile, but yes,” Spencer grinned as he looked in your eyes.
“But the book,” you sighed, looking back at the bookstore, which was still filtering people in and out slowly. The patrons leaving the store clutched their new copies of the book in their hands, grinning and taking pictures with their phones, laughing with their friends excitedly.
“Do you want to get back in line and try again?” Spencer asked, and you bit your cheek pensively.
“I don’t think so,” you said softly, defeatedly.
“That’s okay,” Spencer said. You loved that he wasn’t coddling you, he was just feeling it out, seeing what you were up for. “Do you want to get brunch somewhere and come back? Maybe the line will have died down by then?”
You nodded, your lips curling into a small smile. “Yeah,” you agreed. You realized your hand was still over his heart, rubbing at his chest. Your movement halted and you retracted your hand, but before your arm could fall completely at your side, Spencer scooped your hand up and kissed the back of your palm. “What if we come back and they’ve sold out of the book, though?” You asked as Spencer walked with you in the direction of one of your favorite brunch places, just a short walk from the bookstore.
“There are twenty-two independent bookstores in the D.C. metropolitan area alone,” Spencer rattled off. “If this one doesn’t have it, we’ll drive around until we find one that does.”
“What article did you read that told you how many bookstores were in D.C?” You asked. You often liked to challenge him by asking him to cite his sources.
“No article. I did a search on Google Maps last night,” Spencer explained.
“What, because you knew I’d freak out when we walked into this one?” You asked him.
Spencer shook his head. “No, just wanted to have a contingency plan in case our first stop sold out before we got there.”
“Always thinking ahead, huh, Boy Wonder?”
“Damn straight.” A smirk formed across Spencer’s lips.
You shook your head. “You’re the best dishtowel a girl could ask for.”
216 notes · View notes
emphistic · 14 hours
Text
𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊
𝐀/𝐍: thank you all for more than 505 followers (see what i did there with the song?) have this as a token of my gratitude (this is superr long overdue, mb you guys)
𝐖/𝐂: around 2500
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“Why? Why, Sukuna? Why the hell did you not pull away?” You failed to keep your voice down.
“Baby, please. Trust me, she flung herself on me. I–”
“So you didn't push her off?”
Sukuna raked his fingers through his hair, clearly exasperated and struggling to find the words to answer you. “Look — the last time I did that I almost got arrested for assault. And guess what? You yelled at me for that, too. You said, ‘Why would you do that? You couldn't have just told her to get off?’ So really, what did you want me to do this time?”
You covered your mouth to stifle your sobs, at this point, your mascara was completely ruined, running down your cheeks. “Okay, okay, I get it. I'm wrong, you're right.”
But I crumble completely when you cry
Sukuna turned away from you, scratching his neck. Your mascara was smudged along your cheeks, your tears dampening your eyelashes. He couldn't bear seeing you like this, not when he was the cause. Was it cruel of him to say, to believe, to think, that you were most beautiful this way?
“That wasn't my point, and you know that. You know that damn well, sweetheart.” Sukuna said — after a moment of silence — and turned back to face you, albeit he hesitated before meeting your glossy eyes.
“Then what was it? What was it, Sukuna? Tell me. Enlighten me.” You frantically wiped away your tears as they fell, and though desperate as you were, you were still too slow.
“. . .” Sukuna stared down at you with a stoic expression painted on his face. His gaze remained unwavering, though yours flickered throughout the room, seemingly unable to face him properly. If he knew better, he would realize it was only because you would start bawling immediately after meeting his crimson eyes.
It seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye
“Fine!” You threw your arms up, utterly defeated. You had no time for Sukuna's games. “Be that way; go have fun with all your other girls!” You stomped away, but decided — in the moment — to turn around for a second just to flip the pink-haired man off. “Burn in Hell, Sukuna, for all I care. I don't want to see your stupid, stupid face ever again.”
Sukuna sighed, his eyes burned holes into the back of your dress as you left him standing there. Standing there with nothing but his thoughts, dreams, and regrets. Standing there in the club alleyway. The same club alleyway that you pulled him away to so you could yell at him.
But it didn't feel like the same club alleyway, because Something was missing. Something very dear to him — but he was no better than a man.
I'm always just about to go and spoil the surprise
He was no better than a man. He didn't have the courage. He didn't have the brains. He didn't have the wit. He didn't have the assets. He didn't have anything that he had had with you. Not anymore, at least.
Take my hands off of your eyes too soon
He didn't have anything, because you were his everything. You were his light. His match. His flame. He didn't know what his point was. He didn't know. He didn't know. Because alas, he was no better than just a man. A man helplessly in love — with you.
So what would a man — helplessly in love with you — do? Perhaps he would visit your favorite jewelry brand and buy you an exquisite necklace. Maybe he would stop by a florist's shop and get you flowers. Or he could get you a baked good from the local bakery you like so much. And so, Sukuna — possibly being the most indecisive man alive — did all three of those things.
He purchased you a glimmering diamond necklace, a bouquet made up of your favorite flowers, and a cake of your favorite flavor.
Now, Sukuna was never a nervous nor self-doubting man, that was until he met you. He gets butterflies at the thought of you, though he'd never admit that. What could he say? He loved your laugh, the way your eyes crinkle as you do, your smile, your habit of tucking your hair behind your ear, your meticulousness when choosing earrings to match your outfit, your eyes — especially when they appeared to almost be glittering, he loved everything about you. But most importantly. . . He loved you. And that is why he sits in the driver's seat of his car, with his head in his hands and his back hunched over in thought.
He messed up. He messed up bad. And now he had to clean up the mess.
Fifteen minutes prior, his younger twin brother — Yuuji — had given him a pep talk, hyping him up. Yuuji knew how much you had helped Sukuna. He remembered the way Sukuna appeared happier, as if 100 pounds had been lifted off his shoulders — not that he would have any trouble carrying that weight — when Sukuna came home from your first date together. Yuuji saw the difference in Sukuna from that day on. Yuuji saw, Yuuji heard, and Yuuji felt the difference.
Albeit the younger twin could be a bit . . . dull, at times, Yuuji knew that you were what Sukuna needed most. If you had affected Sukuna so greatly when you came into his life, just think about the effects that would take place if you two separated. Yuuji got chills just thinking of that, which was why he was so desperate for his older brother to just rip off the bandaid, set his ego aside, and make amends.
I'm going back to 505
Sukuna was going back. He was going back to you . . . even if it was the last thing he would do. He finally raised his head from his hands and started the car. He was going to see you, apologize and explain how stupid he was being, and he was going to give you all the gifts he purchased. If his words couldn't satisfy you, he was going to spend the rest of his life proving himself to you with his credit card.
If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive
The drive to your apartment from his penthouse was only 3/4s of an hour, though it felt much longer as his dread grew and grew. It didn't matter how long, how far, how dangerous, the journey — he would always go back to his girl.
His girl.
That's what you were. That's what you are. That's what you will be — for as long as Sukuna lives. He would make sure of that.
The knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark
But it didn't feel that way, certainly not when you opened the door with a frown on your face that only deepened as you immediately moved to close the door upon seeing the pink spikes of Sukuna’s hair. But he was already two steps ahead of you. He — already expecting that reaction — had quickly blocked you from closing the door by sticking his foot out between the door.
Frightened by the bite, though it's no harsher than the bark
“Sukuna. Didn't I tell you to never—!”
“Baby, please. Hear me out — for just a second.” Sukuna's lips were dry, his throat parched.
“Fine.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, he would've missed it if he was not as desperate as he was now.
Three days. It had been three days since you two had last spoken, in that damned alleyway. Three days of plain torture. Three days of sleepless nights. Three days without you. Three days of Hell.
God, he was so glad to hear your voice again; it was like music to his ears.
The middle of adventure, such a perfect place to start
You slowly pulled the door back and took a step backward, silently giving Sukuna your consent for him to enter. However, he didn't feel deserving of it, so he stayed in his position.
“Look, this is probably a waste of your time—”
“It is.”
He shoved the gifts into your hands.
“Oh? What's this?” You raised a brow, digging your hand through the bags to investigate, but Sukuna cleared his throat and you met his eyes.
“I want to apologize, for what I said and for how I acted. I'm really, really sorry. You know I'm not the best with these kinds of things, but, I really am. Believe me. And . . . I wasn't in the right state of mind, I was already a few drinks in — y’know that — and I know that's not an excuse but, I just. . . I'm sorry, okay? I haven't slept a wink since you left. And I was a fucking coward: I should've done this earlier but I didn't. So—please, forgive me.”
You didn't say anything, averting your gaze to the ground at your feet, and still processing his words. You mulled over what he had said in your head.
“Say something. Anything. Please.” Sukuna was so close to getting on his hands and knees that it was almost embarrassing.
“Sukuna, I don't know what to tell you. I believe you're sorry but I. . . I'm not ready to forgive you, not yet. It's just a lot, y’know? I mean, if you were in my shoes right now, you would feel the same way—”
“That's why I'm apologizing.” Sukuna cut you off, his desperation quickly turning into agitation.
“Yes, I get that, but . . . I'm just not ready to forgive you yet. I'm not ready to just push this aside and move on. I'm not . . . ready — for any of that.” Your eyes softened, as did your tone.
Despite his desperate pleads, you couldn't bring yourself to just forget the whole ordeal and why he was apologizing in the first place. But Sukuna was no better than a man. He had no clue why you felt this way. The only thing he's known in life was to move on. That's what he does and will do. That's why he is the way he is. That's why.
“Do you even want this relationship to last? Can't you see I'm trying to fix this problem?”
“I do, Sukuna. I really do. Couples fight and have arguments. It's normal. It's what we're doing right now. But just because it's normal doesn't mean I'm going to brush it aside as if it didn't happen.”
“Are you out of your—!? Do you have any idea how many girls would like to be in your spot right now? Do you have ANY idea?” By now, Sukuna had completely lost it. He was frustrated, so frustrated. He didn't understand what more you wanted from him.
“I—Sukuna, what?”
“Have you any idea? Any idea at all?”
You would be lying if you said you weren't scared, utterly afraid of the man standing before you right now. For you could see nothing past his eyes, no love, no care, nothing. Only the deep, rich crimson color that you once loved and held so dear to your heart.
“You know what? Good for you. Good for you that you have so many other better options but you chose me. Good. For. You. I guess you don't need me anymore. Goodbye, Sukuna.”
You slammed the door [shut] in Sukuna's face, falling with your back against it seconds later and bringing your knees to your chest. The waterworks started soon after and Sukuna could hear your quiet sobs from beyond the door.
He was dumbfounded, absolutely appalled. Did he really just say that to you? Sukuna knew he was not the brightest, but, damn, he's really done it this time.
Sukuna ran his fingers through his hair, now sitting in his car. He definitely did not mean to say what he said. In fact, he didn't even know how it slipped out. One second he was basically on his knees for you and the next, he . . . wasn't. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with me? He thought. He continued to sit there, reflecting on his actions and words. But he still couldn't believe it. What the fuck just happened?
He came to your apartment hoping to salvage the remnants of your guys' relationship, but he ended up ruining it — forever. Sukuna was 100% sure this was the worst fuckup in the history of mankind.
But he couldn't just leave it like this. He could still fix this, right? Alas, Sukuna had lost all hope; he lost his mind; and he lost the love of his life.
“Shit,” Sukuna muttered. He had really lost it, he thought, as he walked back to your apartment door. He had really lost it, he thought, when he spared a glance at your apartment number.
I'm going back to 505
That was the whole point of this, right? He was going back — no matter what, right?
When you look at me like that, my darlin', what did you expect?
He had really lost it, he thought, when he saw your glossy — yet still absolutely mesmerizing eyes after reluctantly answering the door, waiting for Sukuna to say something, anything. Anything at all. But he didn't. He didn't say anything at all. He had really lost it, he thought, when he pulled you in for the most zealous kiss he had ever experienced that left you gasping for air. His lips slotted against yours, moving fervently simultaneously. Albeit, he pulled away rather quickly — afraid of what he had just done.
I'd probably still adore you with your hands around my neck
Mere seconds after Sukuna pulled back, you moved your hand so quickly — that Sukuna didn't even notice at first — and slapped him. Hard. You slapped him hard as fuck. But then you did something that surprised the pink-haired man even more. You embraced him in a hug, and a tight one at that.
“Hug me back, dumbass.” You quipped.
Or I did last time I checked
“You just slapped me.” He hugged you back, nevertheless, wrapping his arms around your figure. Because, he had to admit, it was kinda hot [getting slapped].
“Duh. ‘Cause you're such a loser.”
A pause of silence occured, before Sukuna spoke up.
“I didn't mean what I said,” Sukuna murmured against your hair. He had longed for this moment. God, you made him so soft sometimes.
“I know.”
“I'm sorry.”
“I know.”
“I missed you.”
“You never stop talking, do you.”
“To you? Never.”
I'm going back to 505
If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive
In my imagination, you're waitin' lyin' on your side
With your hands between your thighs and a smile
Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @lich1 @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius
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flickering-chandelier · 17 hours
Text
It’s Cool, We’re Just Friends
Pairing: Azriel x BestFriend! Reader
Summary: Azriel and Reader have been besties for years, until one night has them crossing into uncharted territory.
Warning: Steamy at the end whoops
Word Count: 2.8k
The rooftop garden at Rhysand’s townhouse was one of your favorite places in the world. It was one of the only places that you could often have to yourself when you needed some time for quiet reflection. You loved to lounge up there, especially at night when you could watch the City of Starlight come to life before your very eyes.
The only thing better than having the rooftop all to yourself was sharing it with your best friend, Azriel.
You smiled as he appeared, smoothly landing a few feet from you, his eyes sparkling, his shadows vanishing as he smiled at you.
He dragged the empty iron chair closer to you and settled in, stretching his wings out behind him, placing his hands behind his head, leaning back casually. He only sat this way when it was just the two of you, when he didn’t have to keep up appearances as the Night Court’s spymaster and shadowsinger.
“What did you do today?” he asked, looking out at the light and life of the city.
“Trained with Cassian. Hated my life,” you said, shifting in the iron chair to ease some of the soreness in your back.
Azriel laughed quietly, his eyes flicking to you as you tried to get comfortable. “Cassian always has that effect on me, too.”
You scoffed, lightly swatting at his bare bicep. “Don’t be mean. You love your brother.”
He sighed, smiling lightly at you. “Then what?”
“Mmmm,” you pondered, running through your day in your mind. “Oh! I finished my book!”
“The one about the forbidden love?” He lifted his eyebrow.
“Yes!” you squealed, excitedly. “It was so good.”
“Let me guess,” he said, his voice teasing in that way that he saved just for you. “They finally got together and lived happily ever after?”
“Yes! How did you know?” You teased.
He shook his head, smiling. “Anything else?”
“Not really,” you said, studying him. He was the only person you had ever met who actually wanted to know the answer when they asked you how your day was. “What did you do today?”
Azriel shrugged, looking out at the city again, the flickering lights below reflecting in his eyes. “Not much.”
“Are you kidding me?” You leaned forward in your seat, gawking at him, and he laughed. “I tell you everything about my boring day, and that’s your answer?”
His smile faded though as he leveled a gaze at you, his eyes sweeping over your face. “I wanted to spare you the details.”
Your blood turned cold at his serious expression. Azriel and you had been best friends for years, ever since you had fled your home in the Autumn Court. From your old home, you had gone north, nearly freezing to death in the Winter Court before the shadowsinger found you and gave you refuge in Velaris. The two of you were kindred spirits, hitting it off instantly. His brothers and his other friends had eventually told you that he immediately relaxed in your presence, even from the beginning, and that he had never seemed so comfortable with someone so quickly. You were honored to be his friend, thanked the stars every night that he had found you and saved your life.
He had been fiercely protective of you from the beginning, wanting to shield you from the realities of what his life was like outside of Velaris. You hated to admit it, but you did get squeamish thinking about what you knew Azriel sometimes had to do -- the torture, the blood, the screams. The thought of him sneaking around in dangerous territories, watching enemies, gathering intel on the in’s and out’s of their lives… it made you more worried than you could express.
But, you also hated not knowing what he was doing, if he was safe. It took months, but you eventually convinced him that you could handle at least the vaguest details of the missions he went on. You knew that he would never be willing to tell you the whole truth, knew that he didn’t want you to think of him that way -- the ruthless, unyielding shadowsinger.
Still, he would usually tell you something. So, if he was unwilling to tell you what he had been doing today… it must have been something very dangerous indeed.
“Oh,” you said finally. “Are you okay?”
His eyes softened as he gazed at you. “I am now.”
You couldn’t help but smile at the sweet Illyrian before you. “You can talk about it, you know. If you have to. I’m here for you,” you reached across the space between you, gently taking his hand.
Azriel’s gaze landed on your hand clasped with his, his expression softening to barely detectable sadness that made you heart hurt. “I know you are,” he said softly.
You studied him for a moment, eyes trailing over that beautiful face that you had memorized. He was in his fighting leathers, tattoos peeking out from under his collar, trailing down his bare arms, his strong biceps that were the size of your head, his massive wings stretched out behind him.
And his rough, scarred hand gently holding yours.
You tugged on his hand gently, so his eyes met yours again. “Want to take me for a ride?”
He smirked, an expression that had taken months of friendship to unlock. “You sure you want to?”
“You seem like you could use a distraction,” you murmured.
Azriel held your gaze for a beat longer before he stood up and scooped you into his arms, only pausing for a moment to smile at you before he shot up into the sky.
Flying with your Illyrian friends had taken a long time for you to get remotely used to, and even now it sometimes made your stomach churn. But you knew it helped clear Azriel’s mind, and you liked the time you got to spend with him in the air, just the two of you.
He held you close against him, his arms wrapped behind your back and under your knees. You rested a hand on his chest, reveling in your opportunity to study him while his eyes were trained on his surroundings. No matter how much time you spent with your friend, his beauty never ceased to amaze you.
You could feel the tension in his body slowly loosen as he flew above his city, a light breeze gracing against your skin, running through your hair through the shields that he put up around the two of you.
Dipping his head, bringing his mouth to your ear, he murmured, “Thank you.”
You curled into him, resting your head on his chest. He tightened his grip on you slightly.
Sometime later, he landed back on the roof, setting you carefully on the ground. Despite his gentle touch, you winced quietly as the muscles in your back ached from your training this morning.
Azriel’s brow furrowed, his hands freezing at your waist, his fingers flexing against your body. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” you said, smiling sweetly up at him.
He arched a brow, not believing it for a second.
“It’s nothing!”
He simply waited, knowing full well that you couldn’t keep your mouth shut for long.
“Okay, fine,” you groaned. “My back hurts. A lot.”
His eyes swam with worry, before narrowing in accusation. “You haven’t been doing the stretches you’re supposed to be doing, have you?”
“Well…” you said, your voice rising a few octaves. “Not all of them.”
He growled your name, his frustration evident. “Why not?”
You shrugged. “They didn’t seem that important at the time.”
Groaning, he picked you up and slung you over his shoulder, heading for the stairs of the townhouse. You shrieked. In all of your years together, he had never done this.
“What are you doing?” you squealed, trying and failing not to stare at your best friend’s glorious ass, which was now far too close to your face.
“I’m going to help you solve the problem that you created, because you’re my best friend, and because you clearly aren’t capable of taking care of yourself,” he said, as he stomped unceremoniously down the stairs.
Scoffing, you said, “Is this really a necessary part of it?”
“Yes,” he countered, clearly amused.
You huffed, staying silent as he walked through the mercifully empty halls to your bedroom. He opened the door with his free hand, kicking it shut behind him, before tossing you onto the bed.
“Oww,” you groaned as your back hit the mattress.
The tough guy act faded as soon as you were in pain. His eyes softened. “Sorry.”
“I thought you said you were going to help me,” you grumbled.
“I am,” he said, stalking towards you, his eyes alight. “Lay on your stomach.”
You quirked a brow at him in question, but when he just silently held your gaze, you sighed and did as you were told.
Suddenly, you were very aware of how thin the material of your dress was, how the hem landed just above your knees. You were thankful that he couldn’t see the heat in your cheeks.
The mattress shifted beneath you as he climbed onto the bed. “What are you--”
“Shh.”
Your skin prickled as he settled his calves snug against your hips, straddling you. He remained hovering over your body on his knees. You weren’t sure you were breathing.
“Okay, what are you --”
The air was sucked out of your lungs as his hands found their way to your shoulders, kneading your back with his rough fingers, digging deep into you, working out all the tension that had been building in your muscles for who knows how long.
You weren’t sure if it felt good or if it hurt… both. Definitely both.
He remained silent as he worked out the knots in your back, gradually moving lower and lower, kneading and rubbing.
The lower his hands moved, the more you had to focus not to squirm. You felt the heat of his body, and the things his hands were doing… you couldn't help but imagine what those hands could do in other places.
It’s not like you had never thought about it before. You had always been just friends, but you weren’t blind. He was the most beautiful male you had ever seen. And he was always so sweet and kind and protective…
You couldn’t stop the moan that came out of your mouth.
His hands stilled for the slightest moment before he continued kneading your muscles. “You doing okay?” He asked, his voice thick. It made heat spread between your legs. The legs that he was currently holding down with his body.
“Mmhmm,” was all you could manage.
It was impossible to tell how much time had passed when he finally lifted his hands from your back. “Is that better?” he asked softly, not moving from his position over you.
You twisted around a bit, testing movements that had made you wince before. After a moment you turned to lay on your back, your body touching his in so many places as you did so. “You’re a miracle worker,” you said, your voice coming out raspy.
He continued to hover over you, his expression unreadable. He leaned closer, bracing his forearms on either side of you, his chest pressing against yours, his face only inches away.
“Az,” you breathed, unable to look away from the heat in his eyes.
His eyes sparked and he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours, twining a hand in your hair as the other gripped your waist.
Your body responded to his immediately, your hands cupping his cheek, wrapping around the back of his neck.
The kiss started out slow. Azriel was taking his time, and when you opened your mouth for him, his tongue slid in gently, exploring your mouth with such tenderness that you wanted to weep.
You gasped as he pulled away to leave a line of sensual kisses down your neck, his hands running over your stomach, your thighs.. “We should’ve been doing this the whole time,” you moaned, breathless.
He laughed into your skin, and you felt the vibration go through your whole body. You squeezed your thighs together and he groaned, nipping lightly at your shoulder.
“Yes, we should have,” he said, kissing his way up your neck. “We’re idiots,” he laughed before taking your mouth with his again, kissing you deeply.
“So stupid,” you said against his mouth and the shoulders you were clutching shook with laughter.
Azriel continued to kiss you slowly, his rough hand drifting underneath your dress, up your thighs…
“Is this okay?” he pulled his mouth back an inch, his eyes studying your face, his body attuned to your every reaction.
“Az, you’re my very favorite person. I trust you with my life. You can do whatever you want to me,” you said, your voice teasing despite how breathless he was making you.
His eyes sparked, his expression one of affection and disbelief before he smirked, his hand trailing up further. “Whatever I want, hmm?” he murmured, his eyes trained on yours.
You could only stare as his hand stilled, a fraction away from where you really wanted him.
“And what do you want, my dear friend?” he said, his voice velvety in a way you’d never heard before.
“Please,” was all you could manage.
He grinned, waiting a beat before he moved your underwear to the side, sliding a finger into your center.
The moan that you let out nearly rattled the walls.
His gaze was trained on you, watching how your body reacted to every move he made. Eventually you tugged his clothes off and he did the same to you, until you were moving together, skin to skin. He moaned your name as he slid into you, setting your body on fire.
He pressed his forehead to yours as he moved inside you, one of his hands holding yours, clutched next to your head, as he kissed your lips gently. He gazed at you when he pulled back, his every movement swimming with affection. “You’re my favorite person,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“You’re the hottest man in the world,” you said just as quietly, your fingers scratching down his back, his wings rippling behind him.
The laugh that rumbled through him made your head spin, and his hips move faster. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” he countered, smiling lovingly down at you.
“I was staring at your ass when you slung me over your shoulder,” you admitted.
“I stare at your ass whenever you leave the room,” he grinned, bending down to nip playfully at your neck, his hips not breaking his steady rhythm.
You gasped, swatting his arm. “You do not!”
“I do,” he laughed, kissing your neck.
“I thought you were a gentleman!” you said mockingly.
He looked at you pointedly, slamming his hips into yours more forcefully. The sound that escaped from your throat was filthy.
“I guess you’re learning a lot about me tonight,” he teased, his eyes sparkling.
You rolled your eyes playfully before wrapping a hand around the back of his head, twisting your fingers through his hair as you brought his mouth down to yours.
You didn’t speak again until some time later, when he was holding you close, your legs entwined, your head resting on his bare chest, his wings enveloping you in their warmth.
Idly, you drew shapes and patterns onto his skin with your fingertip. He shivered. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time,” you whispered, your eyes fixed on your finger, moving to trace over his tattoos, too afraid to look at his expression.
His arms tightened around you and he kissed the top of your head. “I’ve been in love with you since I met you.”
Your gaze flicked to him, your eyes wide. He smiled softly down at you. “You have?"
He kissed you gently in response. “How could I not be?” he whispered.
Your bottom lip trembled and he ran his thumb across it. “Don’t cry,” he murmured.
That made you cry. He laughed, his wings wrapping tighter around the two of you, shielding you from the world.
“Such a softie,” he teased, lifting your chin to press a sweet kiss to your mouth.
You grumbled adamantly, burying your face in his chest.
The two of you laid in companionable silence for a while before he broke it. “You’re going to do your stretches from now on, right?”
“If this is the treatment I get when I don’t do them? Absolutely not,” you grinned.
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✨Lucifer Morningstar NSFW Alphabet✨
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Hey hey! Soooooo I saw some people doing the NSFW Alphabet for some of the Hazbin cast so I thought I would toss my hat in the ring! And of course I'll be doing it for the LOML Luci 💖
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
You already know, the King of Hell is the King of aftercare! Your sessions can go on for a while, so more often than not, you're absolutely spent. Luckily, Lucifer is at your beck and call. He'll give you whatever you need; cuddles, a bubble bath, a massage, a snack, and water of course! You're his Queen, after all, he'll sure as hell treat you like one!
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
I think Lucifer's favorite body parts are his hands. Not for the way they look, but for what they can do. He loves that his hands can roam every inch of your body, make you moan and whimper, make you scream his name, mark you. The fact that they can bring you so much pleasure makes him giddy! It's almost impossible for Lucifer to choose his favorite thing about you because he loves every bit of you! But if you pressed him about it, he would have 2 answers. The first is your lips, because the man is obsessed with kissing you! He'd do it all day if he could! Plus you have the most infectious smile, it warms his heart every time he sees it. The second are your thighs. Look me in the eye and tell me Lucifer is not a thigh man, you can't, it's impossible! Your lap is his favorite place to sit and to rest his head. Of course he LOVES plantings little kisses and hickies on your inner thighs when he's about to eat his favorite meal ;)
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
This goes without saying, Lucifer could survive on your cum alone if he was so lucky. Man is pussy drunk! He'll coax so many orgasms out of you just so he can get his fill of your juices. It's basically a drug to him. And of course he has no problem tasting his own once he's filled you up, definitely a different taste but one he enjoys nonetheless!
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
It's embarrassing for him, but Lucifer was smitten with you since he first laid eyes on you! He couldn't help but imagine all the things he would do to you and have you to do him if you ever gave him the chance. He mentally smacked himself for seeing you that way in the beginning, but GOD you were just an absolute angel! The amount of times this man jacked off to the thought of you before you were even together is way more than he'll ever admit to. If you accidentally bumped into him or touched his shoulder, rest assured that man was cumming into his hand that night because of it.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Lucifer is legitimately older than dirt, and had a wife for 10,000 years, he knows EXACTLY what he's doing! He makes it his personal mission to have you cum multiple times every session! Man invented eating pussy for Christ's sake!
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Old school as hell (literally lol), Lucifer loves missionary with you, but it's never boring! Every session with him is intimate and full of passion. He LOVES looking at when when he thrusts into you over and over, the facial expressions and noises you make when he makes love to you makes his heart melt! That being said, he loves any position where he can see your beautiful face, so PLEASE climb on top and ride that man into the next afterlife!
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Lucifer is the goofiest man to ever goof! I'd like to think once you two are super comfortable with each other, initiating sex becomes sillier. He would use old timey phrases like "hanky panky" or "horizontal mambo", but most of the time he would say something along the lines of "how's about you and me partake in a little bow- chicka-bow-wow :)"
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He has blond hair so his pubes are no different! Lucifer is very well kept and tidy in that area, the minimal hair he has down there stands out a little bit do to his pale white skin, but it's always perfectly trimmed!
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Intimacy master, let me tell ya! Lucifer has such a bleeding heart and is a hopeless romantic for sure! He only says the sweetest things to you when you make love. He hardly uses the term "fuck" as he thinks it's a bit too harsh considering how deeply passionate your sessions are. His praises are endless for you; "you're so beautiful", "you look like an angel", "you feel so good"
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
I touched on this earlier, but his masturbation sessions definitely lessened when you two started being intimate. Before that, Lucifer would probably masturbate to you AT LEAST once a day before you were a couple. When he started courting you, it got even worse because God forbid he initiate anything with you out of fear of scaring you away! But once you initiated, oh he was putty in your hands! After that, Lucifer gains a lot more self control, but he can't help but jack off to you every once in a while, but he'd much rather it be your hand~
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
PRAISE KINK PRAISE KINK PRAISE KINK!! Did I say praise kink?? Please praise this man when you're with him! Lucifer loves to know that he's doing a good job with you. Absolutely melts when you call him a "good boy". He adores hearing things like "You make me feel so good, Luci", "You're doing so well for me, my darling", "Just like that, sweetheart, just like that."
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
His room, of course! His bed is wide enough, for sure! But Lucifer would never restrict himself to just the bedroom. I hope you're ready to defile every flat surface in that mansion of his because he's fucking you in every single room. He has A LOT of rooms~
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
You. You turn him on. Every move you make, every sway of your hips, every laugh you make, Lucifer is GONE. But of course, teasing this man is a sure fire way to get him going. Wearing a short skirt around him and bending over seemingly innocently or placing a kiss on the pulse of his neck, dude is hard as a rock and you're so gonna get it when you two are alone! Good!
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
I feel like there isn't a lot that Lucifer wouldn't try at least once if you asked him to! But a big turn off for him is any mention of his ex-wife Lilith during an intimate session. He'd rather not think about her in that way anymore, he still hasn't fully recovered from her absence.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Oh baby, oh buddy, oh pal...you already know what I'm gonna say here! LUCIFER 👏🏻 IS 👏🏻 THE 👏🏻 KING 👏🏻 OF 👏🏻 CUNNILINGUS!!! This has already been said a million times but I'LL SAY IT AGAIN! He could live off eating your pussy alone!! Man needs his fill AT LEAST once a day, he absolutely WORSHIPS your pussy! He has a forked tongue and he knows PRECISCELY how to use it! Your womanhood will never know peace when you're with Lucifer Morningstar! Your pleasure always comes first pun completely intended but he'd never turn down a blowjob from you! He always gets so red in the face when he watches you suck him off~
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
You can count on one hand the amount of times Lucifer has been rough with you during sex, because it's extremely rare. He treats you like glass for the most part, always wanting to make the moment last as long as possible. He's VERY sensual when it comes to love making. Oh but when he's close to an orgasm, his pace picks up tenfold, almost too fast for you to register the amount of pleasure you're receiving. Almost~
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Quickies are definitely not Lucifer's thing. He views sex as a declaration of love, so to speak, it can't be rushed. However, there have been occasions where your over abundance of teasing caused him to snap and he had to push you onto the nearest surface and take care of you right then and there!
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Considering he's the literal King of Hell, Lucifer can take as many risks as he pleases. Who's going to stop him? Although he doesn't like to push it, he'd rather keep your love making sessions private. But, semi public sex is not out of the question, especially when he wants to pound you on the balcony of his mansion where the entire Pride Ring can hear your moans.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Lucifer's stamina is God-like, literally! He's not bound to the same restrictions as mortals so this man can go for literal hours if you let him! Of course you need a lot more breaks than he does and that's perfectly alright with him! But once you're ready to go again, it's off to the races!
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
You would definitely be the one to bring up toys in the bedroom with Lucifer. At first he might feel insecure because he thinks you need toys to help get you off, but that's the furthest thing from the truth! The first thing you bring up is a strap on, and oh my God, he's beet red. THIS MAN NEEDS TO BE PEGGED, DO YOU HEAR ME?? Pound that ass, he will fall even deeper in love with you than he already is!
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Lucifer isn't much of a tease himself, that's your department! The worst he'll do is squeeze your ass or place his hand a little too high up your thigh for it to be considered casual touching. His go to move if he's in a frisky mood will be to flash his signature V-shaped fingers over his mouth once he knows no one is watching.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Oh let me tell you something, this man is LOUD. Not in terms of actual words, but his sounds! Lucifer cannot help himself, his moans and pleas and whimpers are so fucking cute, you know for sure that you're doing something right when he mewls at the top of his lungs! It's music to your ears, this man is DESPERATE for you!
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
I made this headcanon a little bit ago, but I'm a firm believer that Lucifer is really not a fan of doggy style. He's such a romantic that his desire to see your face when you have sex is EXTREMELY strong. Sure you have a great ass that's fun to smack and grab at, but nothing compares looking into your eyes as you both cum.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Oh you know Lucifer is packing! He's not hung like a horse, but he's definitely larger than average, I would probably say around 7.5 -8 inches. Uncut. I will not explain further lol. His dick is slightly on the skinnier side in terms of girth but he knows exactly how to use it to make you scream~
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
When it comes to you, Lucifer's sex drive is through the roof! Sex marathons are not an uncommon practice between the two of you, a few had gone on for days at a time! If he could spent the rest of eternity inside of you, it would not be long enough for him.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Lucifer usually falls asleep after you, not just because he has stamina of heavenly proportions, but because he wants to make sure you're taken care of. You tend to crash pretty fast after a long session and he wants to make sure you're cleaned up before you zonk out. Once he knows you're alright, it's cuddle time baby and you know he uses his wings to cover the both of you when you drift off to sleep together.
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angelbaby-fics · 2 days
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Daddy stucky x little reader where she loves taking naps especially With her daddies so can you do something where the little one is in a very very young headspace like a few months or a year and they are at the avenger tower but she sleeps most of the time and just wanna near to her daddies
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Naptime With Daddies
Word Count: 450
A/N: ohhh this is on of my favorite concepts ever!! i love thinking about this!!!! especially when i'm stuck in public somewhere & i just wanna go to sleep, i just daydream about daddies 💕
Some babies had blankies, others had stuffed animals, a sentimental item that went with them everywhere. You were a bit different though - instead of cloth comforts, your favorite things to snuggle with were your daddies, Bucky and Steve. Any time you had to sleep, you’d prefer it to be in their arms, and if you were in their arms, chances are you’d fall asleep sooner rather than later. You just couldn’t help it, the serenity of knowing how safe you were in their trustworthy embrace, nothing could ever hurt you there. And they didn’t mind it one bit.
With their exceptional strength, either one of them could hold you for hours at a time without getting tired. When he took you grocery shopping, Steve would push the cart with one hand and hold you in the other. If you stayed awake, he’d point to the things he needed, and you’d grab them and toss them in the cart. By the end of the shopping trip, though, you’d usually nodded off, face smooshed into Steve’s shoulder as he checked out. 
Bucky’s chest was more preferable to you than any mattress. The two of you could more often than not be found on the big sofa in the living room, you asleep on him while he read a book or watched a movie, your presence soothing him. If you were still napping in Bucky’s arms by the time he needed to go to a therapy appointment, he’d bundle you up in a blanket and just bring you along. He’d even bought you a cute pair of noise canceling headphones, so you wouldn’t have to hear anything that wasn’t safe for little ears.
All the other Avengers were used to seeing you sleeping through meetings. Sometimes it took all their super strength not to get distracted by how peaceful you looked in Steve’s arms as he tried to get them to pay attention to the mission. Tony would often crack jokes to hide his jealousy; Peter was far too rambunctious to sit through a whole meeting, let alone nap through one. Sometimes you even slept so soundly, you’d make it in and out of the meeting and back home without even waking up. 
Your favorite by far, were the days when neither of them had to work, or shop or do anything at all. These days were somewhat hard to come by, since your daddies were so important and responsible, but every so often the schedules would perfectly align. The only time you’d get up from the bed would be to cuddle on the couch for a while just to get a change of scenery. These were the best naps of all.
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tootiecakes234 · 3 days
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The Nanami brain rot has taken over😭
Here are random Kento Headcanons:
SFW:
You will not pay for a single thing whilst in this man presence and will feel completely insulted if you even THINK about paying yourself.
His nicknames for you: darling, my love, sweetheart, angel, my good girl🤭 and Y/N(only when he’s being stern with you)
Spoils you and I mean spoiled rotten. You have hyper fixations, he completely indulging you in whatever it is. You have a hobby, he’s providing all the supplies you need to fulfill it.
As soon as you start spending nights at his house, his bathroom is fully stocked with everything you might need, he keeps your favorite foods on deck and buys several changes of clothes for you to keep there.
He works and often but any free time he has is spent with you. You are the only reason he ever takes vacation time. He will whisk you away to a tropical island for a week and indulge you both.
He gets so tense from work sometimes and having you work out kinks for him and generally just give him much needed massages is his favorite thing in the whole world.
Nanami also really likes buying outfits for you to wear. And will lay out outfits for you to wear on random days.
If he has the time, he always cooks for you but he really appreciates that reciprocate that and cook for him on days when he doesn’t have the time.
NSFW
This man has 3 vastly different sides to him and bed and it’s really just depends on his mood which one you’re going to get.
You have the adoring Kento who worships your body like you’re a goddess. Kisses & caresses like you’re the finest of china. He has nights when all he cares about is your pleasure and he’ll be between your legs for hours without ever finishing himself.
Then you have the needy starved Kento that ravages you like, simply put, a whore. Will put your down on your hands and knees and fucks your mouth like a cunt. Pulls your hair while fucks into your from behind telling you how filthy and sloppy your cunt in in your ear. This Kento also borders the line of being an exhibitionist.
And the the 3rd kento that LOVES to tease you. Where he touches you all day, kissing your neck and behind your ear but when you get home will act like nothings happened and waits until you beg him to fuck you. The one that brings you to the brink of orgasm over and over but never letting you finish until you start crying. This kento is also borderline exhibitionist.
Not matter what side of his you get tho, afterwards he is right back to being the devoted boyfriend/husband with the immaculate aftercare.
Also think this man is very into anal play so beware of his slipping fingers and toys into no man’s land.
He will offer to bring in toys very early in the sexual relationship because he understand they are an enhancement to your pleasure and he’d never deny you. He also has toys he likes you to use on him as well.
Loves tying your hands together or to the headboard while he has his way with you. Usually uses of his ties to do so.
Anyways…. I can’t stop thinking about him. In my current daydream we are buying our first house together and these are re couple of the Headcanons I’ve imagined so far🤭
Also I didn’t proofread so🥺 don’t be mean.
Kento Nanami Masterlist
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paigestrap · 6 hours
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i need you.
paige bueckers x fem!reader
warnings? not beta read we die like men, smut (minors dni), angst and fluff
summary - you and paige are friends until you aren’t 🤭🤭
enjoy!!! (please?) even if u don’t pls don’t tell me i’m sensitive.
you couldnt identify the point at which your friendship with paige grew into something more. meeting her in one of your soc classes when she showed up late and sat next to you, you two became friends almost instantly.
you knew who she was of course, had gone to many of the uconn women’s basketball game. and you would never tell her, but you were definitely a fan from the start, her game and personality being a major draw, and maybe also the fact that she was beautiful, like really really beautiful (a fact you would also never tell her).
you two started hanging out pretty much everyday, whether you were doing work, going out to eat, or hanging out with her and the rest of the team at a bar after games, the two of you had become quite comfortable in each others company.
but one day, things started to change. when your shoulders would touch watching your favorite show with her next to you, it sent electricity throughout your entire body, you felt yourself looking forward to the times when your hand would brush hers while walking side by side with her to class, your mood would lighten when she would text you to hangout or simply tell you about her day, and the time you spent together felt more and more intimate as your fondness for the blonde grew.
sometimes, it felt like paige was feeling the same thing you were. her eyes would linger for longer than you felt a friend’s eyes should, her touches felt more intentional, her compliments more frequent, and her words gentler. there were times when you both were alone where it seemed like the two of you were so close to crossing that line. like the first time she asked you to spend the night, and you woke up the next morning in her arms. or when she asked you to wear her jersey to her game the next day, and of course you obliged. she asked you afterwards if you would wear her jersey for every one, justifying her request by saying you’re her “good luck charm” and of course her good luck charm needs to rep her jersey, and of course, you obliged. when you were out with her at the bar and the two of you had been drinking she would constantly be touching you, hugging you, and telling you how much you meant to her. you couldn’t tell if this was paige being paige, or if she was truthful in her words and actions.
these moments were always left unspoken, as neither you nor her felt confident enough to ever cross that line. but your heart yearned for her. her touch, her voice, her laugh, her beautiful mind. and it was getting harder and harder everyday to hide your feelings.
now, with her returning to campus after the uconn women’s basketball team lost to iowa in the final four, you feel those inhibitions being lifted. your phone screen lit up as her contact appeared on your lock screen.
p: need u rn. can u come over?
you: of course, i’m on my way
as you walk out of your apartment to make your way to your friend you realize now the extent to which you feel for her and you want nothing more than to hold her in your arms and comfort her.
“hey,” she says, opening the door for you, her face betraying her overwhelming grief. you don’t say anything, you just pull her into a hug as she lets out her first of many tears.
“i know. i’m so sorry paige. you deserved the win, you all did” you say, comforting her while also holding back tears of your own.
“can we go to my room, just wanna be with you right now,” her tear stained eyes meet yours, and your heart swells at the urge to kiss her tears away.
“of course, i’m here for whatever you need, always” you say, grabbing her hand as the two of you make your way towards her room.
“i wish you’d been there, missed you so much it’s crazy,” she admits as you both lay down side by side in her bed. her eyes never breaking away from yours.
“i missed you too paige, im so sorry i couldn’t be there for you. i hope you know how much i wish i could’ve” you pull her into your arms and embrace her as her tears begin to fall again.
“i think,” she starts, but stops herself and pauses for a long time. you are about to ask her about it before she continues, “i think i realized something about myself this weekend”
another pause. your heart beats faster, you curse yourself knowing paige could feel it too. “what’s that,” your voice is barely audible as you struggle to get the words out.
“i need you, like i really really need you. ever since i met you i just wanna be by you all the time. when we lost i just wanted you to be there and,” she propped herself up to look at you before pulling you in to a tight embrace “i’m scared that you don’t need me too” her voice breaks at the end, shattering any hope of disguising her emotions.
“oh paige, you have no idea,” you say, feeling yourself breaking at her words. you pull away from her embrace and stare into her eyes, searching for a reason not to let your walls fall. you don’t see one, “i need you like i need oxygen to breathe. the world feels muffled when you’re not next to me, i admire everything about you and i’ve never felt this way about another person before. i’ve been so scared these past few weeks that i’ll lose you if you find out how much i want you, but i can’t go on pretending i think of you as my friend when you are so much more than that.” there it is. there’s no going back now. your eyes move away from hers as you await her response.
“baby,” she whispers, hand moving to caress your cheek as she gently pulls your face in her direction, “you’ll never lose me,”
suddenly, the space between you feels so small, and in a swift motion she closes the gap between you and kisses you. the world around you begins to spin as all of your senses become heightened. you feel yourself kiss back, not too hard, not too soft, and suddenly the emotions brimming for the past months come flooding to you all at once.
her hands meet your waist as she shifts her weight to be positioned on top of you, your legs opening as she places herself in between them, never breaking your kiss.
she eventually breaks it to look down on you, a million emotions displayed on her face. she reconnects your lips with hers and you feel yourself giving in completely, desire for the blonde blooming as her kisses grow hungrier. “i want you so bad” she says breathlessly in between kisses. her tongue grazes your bottom lip, requesting entrance, and as with all of her requests, you oblige.
“please, paige,” you let out, suppressing the moans threatening to slip out as her tongue explores your mouth. you tug on her shirt, needing to feel her body closer. she takes it off and removes your shirt as well. leaving you in only your bra on top. she smiles as she looks at your now exposed body.
“god, your tits are fucking amazing,” she remarks, staring at them lustfully. you blush, suddenly feeling so exposed. her hands reach your back as she unclasps the final layer, removing your bra and revealing your bare chest. she fondles your tits and the sudden touch elicits a moan you didn’t have the restraint to hold back. her hands feel so good, and you desperately need them somewhere else, “i wanna fuck you so bad babe”
“god paige please i need you so badly” you whine, so far gone at this point to even try to hide your burning desire.
“yeah?” she grins, biting her lip and licking her lips, “where do you need me, my sweet girl, show me”
you pull yourself up and remove your bottoms, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. you grow increasingly aware of how wet you are, and embarrassed at how obvious it is. her hands roam your body and she grips both of your thighs, her gaze lowering to your heat. “you’re so wet, all because of me?” she asks like she doesn’t know the answer and lets her finger graze over your clothed pussy. you moan as she touches your clit, grinding your hips desperate for more. “so needy baby, i’m gonna take these off now alright?” you nod as she removes your panties, leaving you completely exposed and at her expense.
her hand meets your bare pussy, rubbing in between your folds and onto your clit, eliciting a loud moan from you as your body reacts to her touch. you move your head to the side and close your eyes, letting the pleasure take over. but you are quickly brought back to reality when she stops touching you and takes your face into her hand, bringing it back to face her, “i want you to look at me when i fuck you, do you understand baby?” she plants a kiss on your lips and you nod in response, unable to say a thing.
her fingers move back towards your heat and she slides one into you, “how’s that sweet girl, does that feel good?”
“yes. please. more.” you whine, your body burning at her touch, desperately needing more.
“oh yeah?” she teased as she slipped another finger in you, slowly pumping them in and out of you, curling them so she could feel them stretching against your walls.
you were done for. your body twisting and rutting against her, only causing her to quicken her pace inside you, never breaking your gaze for a second. “god you’re so fucking gorgeous like this, all mine”
your senses overloaded by her hungry words and quickening pace, you felt yourself nearing your climax “paige, please don’t stop. i’m so close” you beg, causing her to fuck you harder and faster.
“yeah? come for me baby, you’ve done so well, my pretty girl,” that was all it took to force you over the edge. you come hard, screaming out her name as the pleasure enveloped your entire body. she fucks you through your orgasm, whispering in your ear the entire time telling you how pretty you look and how good you are.
the wave of pleasure subsiding and your senses gradual coming back to you, she slides her fingers out of you, licking your wetness off of them and falling back onto your smaller figure.
“holy shit” you breathe out, panting. suddenly feeling very sleepy.
“yeah, holy shit.” she laughs, “you’re so fucking hot, you know that?” you blush at her compliment, burying your face in her chest.
“do you still think i don’t need you?” you ask, looking up at her with a shy smile. she grins, giving you a sweet kiss and looking at you with so much endearment it makes your heart swell.
“no, i’m pretty sure you made yourself clear” she laughs, pulling you closer.
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trans-axolotl · 3 days
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content note: discussion of suicide.
this next monday will be the six year anniversary of losing one of my friends to suicide.
when he died, my high school barely mentioned his death, even though for other students who died by things like car crashes or illness, there were so many public expressions of grief. they believed that having any memorials for a student who died by suicide would encourage other people to die the same way. in their rush to erase the circumstances of his death, they erased the memory of his life.
there are so many things i am angry at that high school about in terms of how they treated mental health (mandatory reporting and collaborating with cops, their refusal to recognize the ways in which that system led to peer-to-peer crisis support, their refusal to recognize the ways that trying to keep each other alive through trial and error was scary and exhausting, carceral disciplinary policies, etc etc etc). but i think one of the things i am still angriest about is the way they enforced shame around his death. it felt like they were retroactively blaming him for the constellation of circumstances that made suicide an option in his life. it felt like they were blaming those of us who missed him and cared about him and wanted to grieve him. it made those of us still there who were actively suicidal feel even more scared about the reaction if we did reach out for help from one of those mythical safe adults.
as an adult now involved in psych abolition/mad liberation work, it makes me so fucking mad to see the ways in which he was discarded by people in authority positions. and the older i get, the more options i have found in my life for making sense of the world and finding healing and community and support which were never available to him because he died when he was 16 and the only things offered to him were a carceral psychiatric system that blamed him for his own fucking death. it feels so incredibly unfair.
i miss him and i think i always will; i can't remember his laugh or the sound of his voice or his favorite color any more and that aches. this grief is so heavy and it feels harder in a new way each year, when i become older than he will ever be. sometimes meeting new comrades or seeing new anticarceral suicide support models hurts because i wish so fucking bad that we had that back then. i remember how close we came to losing even more people that year and i know it is simple fucking luck that i'm still here when he's not.
i remember another letter (never sent) that i wrote to a friend while they were in an ICU bed after a suicide attempt when i didn't know if they would live or not. i have spent so much time in the past 10 years begging for anything to keep me and my friends alive, but even in that letter i knew that there is so much fucking violence that is hidden beneath psychiatric logics of cure and safety that promise a "solution" to suicide. I knew that institutionalization, coercion, and shame would not have helped build a life more liveable for him or **** or any of the people i've loved and lost since.
there needs to be more fucking options for care and support that aren't so incredibly cruel to suicidal people. i know so many people doing incredible work in alternatives, peer respite, a million different frameworks for healing and liberation. but it makes me so mad every day i have to live in a world where there are still people restrained, locked up in psych wards, having all autonomy and personhood taken away from them. knowing there are dozens of people every day getting blamed for their deaths the same way he was blamed for his.
i miss him. i cared so fucking much for him. and he died by suicide, and all of those things are true. he has been dead for 6 years and he lived before that and the people who loved him want to remember all of him; our celebrations of his life should not require hiding the way that he died.
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Image description: [1000 origami cranes in all different colors and patterns that are tied together in strings of 25]
(these were the 1000 cranes we made to give to his parents, in memorial and recognition of how much he meant to us.)
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auteurdelabre · 16 hours
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SO MUCH TO LOSE part 10 - dark!Joel x f!reader
rating: 18+
words: 7.5k
TW: HEAVY EMOTIONAL CHAPTER. MENTIONS OF TRAUMA. Allusions to oral sex, m receiving, allusions to f/m penetrative sex.
a/n: I told y'all this chapter's a doozy. Well it is, but maybe not for the reasons you think. . . To me its one of the most important chapters of this whole story.
series masterlist
REBLOGS, COMMENTS, ENGAGEMENT ARE WHAT KEEP US FIC WRITERS GOING. PLEASE REMEMBER THAT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS.
-----------------------------
SO MUCH TO LOSE CHAPTER 10
You visit Maria the following week with a plate of cookies in hand. She’s the one to answer the door and you are relieved when you see that she is showered and dressed. Things must be improving. She brings you into a tentative hug when you arrive, urging you inside out of the fresh dusting of snow.
“Tommy has Douglas out for a little walk. I’ll make you a coffee.”
“I’m fine,” you insist. “Just came to drop off some baking. I’m heading to Ellie’s later this week and needed to get some practice in. I haven’t done much baking lately and wanted to make sure I wasn’t rusty.”
You join her on the couch, watching as she wraps her hands tightly around her coffee mug. She takes tentative sips between munches of cookie. At the first bite she literally moans.
“This is so good.”
“Thanks. They were Charlotte’s favorite.”
Maria licks the crumbs from her lips before leaning back on the sofa. She’s always been slender and she looks almost as she did back before she gave birth, except for the small pouch at her lower belly. You think she looks better with it.
“Was Charlotte your daughter?”
“Oh no. I never had kids.”
“We’re you ever married?”
“Me?” you almost laugh. “No.”
“Oh,” Maria blinks and her mouth tugs to the side. “I thought you might be. You have a nurturing quality about you.”
 “I think you give me too much credit.”
Maria grins, taking another bite of cookie. The two of you chat amiably a bit about the changing weather, of the way the inhabitants of Jackson City get along so well. Of how she feels the pressure of being Jacksons’ ‘First Lady’. Of how the bandits that fuck with the dam that supports the city stresses her daily.
“It’s a fucking nightmare some days,” she cites with a grumble. “Thank goodness for Tommy.”
“He’s a good man,” you tell her.
“He is,” she smiles indulgently before shooting you a lingering look. “What do you think about Joel?”
“How do you mean?”
“You do patrols with him, right?” 
“Can’t say I was always his biggest fan,” she says, taking another sip from her mug. “But he’s grown on me.”
“Yeah.”
You hold in the scoff that’s already begun in your throat.
“My friend Jennifer seems to think he’s pretty wonderful,” you offer instead. “She was delighted to help him repair the window last week.”
“She the blonde one? Used to do textiles?” Maria knows everyone thanks to her position.
“Yeah.”
“Not his type,” Maria insists with a shy grin. “She’d eat him alive.”
Jennifer doesn’t seem like she would eat anyone alive.
“Joel is all harsh edges,” she explains when she sees your confusion. “He needs someone soft to balance him out. That Jennifer girl is hard.”
You don’t think that you would consider Jennifer hard and you don’t fight Maria on it because the conversation quickly turns to Jackson’s continued increase of population, the place swelling with new life.
“Plenty of single men,” Maria says with a quirked brow in your direction. You give a soft laugh.
“Not really interested.”
“Single women too.”
“No no,” you laugh again, cheeks pinking. “I like men, I just . . . I don’t think I’m the partnering type.”
You think of Luke and his sweet features and his muscled forearms. For him you could perhaps be the partnering type. Perhaps. The thought of romance appeals to you; it just doesn’t seem realistic at times. A crush feels fun and safe.
“You must have had your share of dates,” Maria insists. You can see her relaxing and you think she must be enjoying what she views as girl time. You think she must not have had much of it lately.
“Normal crushes and stuff,” you shrug. “But I was a late bloomer and then the outbreak started when I was a teenager so I didn’t have a chance for a lot of firsts back then.”
“Sex,” Maria nods.
“Uh yeah… that…” you say, trying to appear nonchalant. “And uh, kissing, dating, all that stuff.”
“But you did eventually,” Maria cites smiling.
“Sex? Oh yes,” you nod. You weren’t a monk or anything in your time before Jackson City.
“What was your first time like?” Maria settles back against a cushion, nibbling at her cookie looking at you eagerly. “I remember mine was all fumbling in the backseat of his truck before curfew.”
You laugh and think Maria must be starved for company to be intrigued by your limited romantic experience.
“Uh… fast,” you say with a laugh before allowing yourself to be transported back to that time. “He worked at one of the bakeries that I assisted in. I remember he had the longest eyelashes I’d ever seen on a man. They were so blond you could only see them if he turned at a certain angle. He made me laugh. One night he invited me back to his apartment and… that was that.”
“How old were you?”
“Uh, twenty two, twenty three?”
“And you didn’t date after?”
“Nah, my family left that QZ kinda in a hurry.”
You aren’t expecting your voice to hitch on that last sentence, but it does.  Maria grows somber, her dark eyes expressive.
“Can I ask why you left?”
You blink back the sheen of tears starting and gaze around the room, trying to land on something that will steel you. You find it in the small carving of a horse on the bookshelf nearby. You tell your story to that delicately made creature instead.
“We moved east through the QZ’s for about ten or eleven years. Stayed in a few of them before we’d pick up and keep moving to the next one. Hard to make connections and date with all that. I didn’t trust that I’d have the time.”
Maria looks like she wants to ask more when the door is opened and Tommy’s cheerful voice rings out announcing he and Douglas are home and ready for lunch.
“We have company!” Maria says cheerfully.
Tommy turns the corner to see you and he greets you. He wears Douglas strapped to him with fabric, snuggled under his large jacket. Jackson is sleeping soundly and barely notices when Tommy unwraps and hands him off to his mother.
Douglas squirms, his tiny head burrowing into Maria’s neck. She smiles and for the first time you’ve known her it looks sincere. There is a lightness in the house you realize, something that had been missing before.
“He enjoyed being out in the fresh air,” Tommy announces. “Everyone who saw him wanted to kiss him.”
“Tommy!” Maria looks horrified.
“But I didn’t let ‘em,” Tommy finishes, pressing a gentle kiss to his wife’s worried brow. “I’m gonna make some soup. You two want a bowl?”
“I’m alright,” you say. “I just brought by dessert. I’m actually heading over to Ellie’s to do some baking.”
“Joel’s letting you use his place to bake?”
You still, brows raised. “Uh… yeah. Is that… should I not be?”
“No, I’m just surprised,” Tommy admits after a pause. “I don’t think he’s ever let anyone in that house aside from me and Maria. Think the only reason he and Ellie don’t kill each other is ‘cuz she’s in the garage.”
“Oh.”
You don’t know what else to offer besides that.
Tommy nods and for a moment you see something in his expression, a pinched look when Maria looks away from him.  You realize that Tommy looks harried, running a hand through his glossy curls.
“What’s up?”
“Nothin’,” Tommy replies too quickly.
You see the panic in his eyes as his gaze darts from his wife back to you. You understand immediately. Maria is doing well, if there’s something stressful in Jackson City he doesn’t want to bother her with it.
“Thanks for the tea Maria, but I better head out,” you inform them both.
Maria wraps you into a side hug, one arm around your shoulders, the other holding her son. You run your knuckles down his spine gently.
“Come back soon,” she whispers.
“I promise.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Tommy says, feigning manners. The two of you walk to the front door around the corner. As you toe on your boots you look up at him expectantly.
“Well?”
Tommy looks over his shoulder anxiously before dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper only you can hear.
“Rumor is Raiders were spotted by A Patrol this week,” Tommy says with a sigh. “Up by the traps.”
“Fuck,” you breathe. “Really?”
“Not positive. A Patrol isn’t always the most reliable. They spook easy and are overly cautious. But I’d rather that than the alternative.”
“Of course.”
“Just make sure you and Joel are extra cautious,” Tommy says. “I know you’re both responsible but, you know…. Just be extra responsible.”
You nod, feeling your heart thrumming in your chest as you make your way to Rancher Street.
///
You didn't really want to go to Joel's house today. But Ellie had found you last night heading home from The Tipsy Bison and had guilted you into it when she told you that Joel had brought back all the supplies needed. 
You'd tried to sway her into baking at your place but only the burners on your oven work. You'd never really considered getting the main oven fixed, since you take most of your meals in the dining hall.
But in moments like this, you heavily regret that choice. 
You feel like even your footsteps sound timid as they make their way up the wood steps. 
Ellie is at the door, pulling it open before you can even knock. She must have been looking for you at the window, counting down the seconds until your arrival. The thought warms you. She gives you a broad smile that lights up her face.
"I got everything set up!"
She takes off down into the kitchen and you venture into the Miller home tentatively, still anxious about what happened last time.  
A sound to your right draws your attention and you take in the tall form of Joel coming into the room. He's dressed in jeans and a sweater, obviously feeling the chill despite the cheery fire that roars behind him. 
"Mornin'," he greets. 
"Morning." You lick your lips nervously. "Thanks for letting me bake with Ellie."
"'Course. She's been looking forward to it for weeks. Can't stop talkin' about it.'
Joel gives you a whisper of a smile but the thing that really throws you about this interaction is that he looks almost nervous. You've never seen Joel look nervous. 
He'd been so stiff after last patrol, not even saying goodbye to the group after you'd all disembarked off the horses. 
It had been embarrassing. Him storming off like you'd all done something wrong. Only Jennifer seemed to still be under Joel's spell citing that watching him hammer the window would fuel her fantasies for months to come.
You're still really irritated with him but it's lessened slightly because his greeting isn’t hostile. You could almost relax if it weren’t for the intense way he’s staring at you.  
You hear your name being called by Ellie in the next room so you toe off your shoes and head into the kitchen. She's got an apron on, borrowed from the kitchen or Joel because it's far too big for her small frame. 
"Alright," you give her a warm smile as you enter. "You got everything?"
"Yep."
You place the bag you brought on the counter. You remove your own apron, baby blue with ruffles on the end. A recent gift from Jennifer who told you “since you’re a real chef you need your own apron”. You tie it as you speak to Ellie.  
"So what I like to do is set up all my supplies on the counter just to double check I have everything. Nothing worse than being halfway through a recipe and finding out you you’re missing ingredients."
The sentence isn't even out of your mouth before Ellie’s opened up her cupboards and ice box and begun to take everything out. Flour, eggs, bowls, milk and more, all the items you gave Joel on the list. She places them on the counter before looking at you like a proud student. 
"You'll need measuring spoons."
The two of you turn at the same time to see Joel standing by the entrance to the kitchen, lingering. His hands are in his jean pockets, standing like a chastised student outside the classroom.
"I brought some," you inform him, trying to hold in your irritation. You pull them from your bag, putting them next to the eggs. 
You feel Joel's eyes on your back and you're sure he's silently judging you, eager to point out what you're doing wrong. You stiffen under the perceived scrutiny. Ellie must sense the change in the room because she whips around to shoot him a jeering look. 
"Joel you don't need to supervise," Ellie says rolling her eyes. "We won't break the damn stove." 
Joel looks at his feet mumbling something about needing to do stuff upstairs anyway before he's making his way out of the kitchen. 
You go back to your lesson with Ellie who turns out to be a very focused student. 
She asks smart questions, measures everything perfectly and takes her time. It's only when you put her in charge of cracking three eggs into the bowl that she gets frustrated. 
"Fuck, it cracked wrong. Shell got in."
Her fingers pinch into the egg bowl, trying to grasp the fallen eggshell. Of course the viscous nature of the raw egg makes it impossible and it’s not long before she pushes at the bowl angrily, her face is set into a deep frown.
“S’fucking bullshit.”
"Happens all the time," you tell her kindly. "Don't stress about it. I’ll show you a secret my mom taught me and my sister to get ‘em out."
Ellie watches as you take the empty shell half still in her hand. Her brows knit in confusion as you lower it into the bowl, using it as a scoop. Unlike with her fingers, the egg shell piece floats easily into the makeshift scoop. You pull the shell from the bowl, tossing the mess into the garbage.
“Holy shit that actually worked.” Ellie smiles at this and it transforms her pale pinched features into that of a warm, approachable teenager. 
You smile, feeling strangely proud. You’ve never baked with anyone else before, aside from the kitchen. But that was following the same boring recipes given by the head chef. You were usually boiling rice, cutting onions or apples. Baking is a different beast, a calmer, more relaxing one.  
After that hiccup Ellie is more patient with herself. She's keen to learn about baking but she's very eager to talk to you about you. When you pop the formed pastries into the oven and set the timer she decides that now is the time to chat. 
"What kind of music did you used to listen to before?"
Memories of Joel’s warning float in your mind. The reminder not to tell her too much. To make her long for a life that he can’t give her.
"Enough about me,” you deflect. “I want to know about you."
At this Ellie balks slightly, the smile wavering just a fraction before the mask is replaced and she nods. Her mixing increases but now her eyes are on the batter.
"Whadda you wanna know?"
"What was your life like before Jackson?"
"I was in the QZ back in Boston,” she says slowly, as if she's trying to make sure she doesn't give too much away. "Hated it."
"Parents?"
"Never met 'em."
"What brought you to Jackson City?"
"Joel."
She doesn't offer you more or less than that. You understand it, you don't push it.
"How'd you end up here?" She asks, mixing the dry ingredients.  
You realize the stupidity of you asking her those questions. How easily you opened them to be doubled back on yourself. 
"You asked me what kind of music I listened to before?" You smile, hoping that this will distract her. "I remember I saw Chicago about a billion times," you laugh. "I was obsessed. I listened to the soundtrack over and over."
"Chicago," Ellie says slowly as if trying to recall before a light seems to go on. "Oh, I've heard of Chicago. Joel likes ‘em."
Them?
It takes you a minute to understand what she's talking about. You finally answer giggling. 
"Chicago the musical, not the band. The musical had great songs. And dancing." 
"Do you dance?"
"Not very well." 
Your dual laughter combines and you can't help but enjoy the sound. Ellie really does make you laugh. She reminds you of how life was before. When everything seemed new. 
You can tell Ellie wants to know everything about your life before the outbreak. And you want to indulge her but Joel's words rub their imprint on your the inside of your skull.
"Hey I promised your D- Joel that I wouldn't keep talking about this stuff with you," you explain quietly. "He's worried it makes you want stuff you can't have."
"Jesus," Ellie says rolling her eyes. “Overprotective much?” 
"No he's right," you insist truthfully. "I mean, I get where he's coming from. He doesn't wanna keep disappointing you."
"Joel could never disappoint me."
The timer goes off and you peer into the oven. The pastries are a golden brown. You smile before taking them out with the oven mitt. Ellie closes her eyes, inhaling.
"They smell so good."
"Just wait until you put icing on them," you encourage with a grin. "Delicious." 
The two of you get to work making the icing while the pastries cool. 
"It's gonna snow," Ellie comments out of nowhere as she peers out the window, mixing idly. 
"Hate to break it to you, El, it's already snowing."
Ellie gives you a smirk along with her side eye. You don't know if it's from your sarcastic comment or the fact that you called her El. 
"I mean I think it’s gonna snow a lot." She explains. "I heard some of the other kids talking about it at school."
"Huh," you offer noncommittal as you look at the consistency of the icing. "Wonder how they can tell."
"They said they could smell it," Ellie says with a grin, pushing up the sleeve of her shirt so that it doesn't drip into the icing bowl. "They said tha-"
You can't hear anything she's saying after that. All you can focus on is her now bared arm and the ugly bite mark. Blood rushes in your ears and you cry out before giving a blood curdling shriek. 
“No!”
Ellie jumps, startled at your sudden screams. She throws herself back against the wall, eyes wide and glancing around as if she expects hordes of infected to come streaming in. 
"What? What is it?"
You know she's never seen you be loud, never seen you scream and the sight must terrify her. 
But all you can focus on is the clear outline of bite marks on her forearm visible after she rolled up her sleeves. The clear sign of an infected’s mark. She’s going to turn into a clicker before your eyes. She’s going to become soulless and inhuman and you need to go. You need to get somewhere safe.
Joel. He’ll be so devastated.
You can hear the heavy footsteps of Joel approaching the kitchen but all you can think of is escaping and getting yourself safe. You have to warn the town. You run towards the front door, your socks slipping over the smooth floor. 
You're still screaming incoherently, your voice cracking as you lunge for the doorknob, tears in your eyes. Your hand closes around the brass knob just as two muscled arms go around your waist, pulling you back harshly. A hand covers your mouth and a deep voice is at your ear. 
"Quit," he repeats, shaking you slightly in his arms. "Stop screamin'."
There's an increasingly paranoid thought that believes this was all a trap. A way for Joel to get his daughter fed. You feel it, Joel's arms wrapped around your entire body, pinning your arms to your sides. His body is warm and solid behind you, terrifying in its strength. It takes you to a time you've tried to forget. 
"Get the fuck off of me!" You shriek against his palm, trying to wriggle out of his grip but he holds firm. You're screaming expletives, trying to kick out. You shake his hand off your mouth. "She's bit, Joel! I saw it!"
Ellie hasn't moved from where she stands cowering in the corner of the kitchen. But you can only imagine how soon it will be before she turns. You can't be here for that. You can’t watch that sweet girl turn into one of them.
"I know," Joel rumbles against your temple, hands still gripping you tightly. 
"You know," you repeat and now a dread begins in your feet and floods the rest of you. 
Joel knows she is bit. Joel welcomed you into his home knowing she was bit. 
You are going to die. 
"Let me go!"
High on fearful adrenaline you give a frantic kick backwards, elbowing into Joel's abdomen at the same time you thrust the ball of your foot onto his socked toes. Joel gives a strangled grunt and his arms loosen in pain momentarily allowing you a chance to break free from him. 
You tug open the door and speed out without your boots. You feel the snow on the porch under your feet, freezing your toes immediately. You throw yourself down the porch stairs, feet slapping the wood as you hold back sobs. The street is deserted; the houses all empty as they usually are on bright Saturday afternoons. You go to cry out for someone, anyone, when Joel's arm bands around your waist.
You give a devastated howl of defeat before Joel is dragging your struggling frame back into the house, telling you to calm down. 
Ellie is by the sink, her eyes on the ground. 
But you still struggle, trying to get away from this house. Joel gives a frustrated growl before he pushes you up against the wall, pinning you there with his hips. His hands hold your wrists on either side of your head, pressing them into the wall. 
"Stop fuckin' strugglin'," Joel seethes when you jerk against him, his chest pressing you so tightly to the wall you can't breathe. 
"Please let me go," you beg brokenly as you continue to struggle in his arms. "Please I just-“
"She's immune," he rasps in your ear. "She's fucking immune! Stop!"
Immune. Immune. 
"What?" You stop your screaming just long enough to twist your head to face him. "Immune? That's not possible." 
But you’ve stopped struggling as hard.
You take a closer look at Ellie’s arm from where you stand, noticing that it doesn’t look particularly fresh. In fact it looks scarred. And yet something in you is still terrified. So terrified that you yelp when you feel Joel's wide hands go to either side of your face, forcing your face up and eyes to his. 
"Everything is okay," Joel tells you in a husky rasp. "You're safe, I promise. I've got you. You're safe." 
His eyes are locked with yours as he says this and you don't know how those words work their way into your body, but they do. The same way they wind around you as you allow yourself to get lost on patrols with your mouth on him. That sense that someone else is in charge, someone else is protecting you.
You're safe.
Your entire frame goes boneless in his arms and when he finally releases your face your head drops to your chest. He continues to press you gently against the wall with one heavy hand holding you there.
"What if it's slow acting or -" you whisper quietly, "or what if you can still pass it on with saliva or-"
"The dogs don't detect it," Joel tells you, his hold on you not lessening. "Ellie and I've shared drinks plenty a' times. She's immune."
You stare at the girl at the table, her entire countenance shifted. You can see the devastation, the fear and anger floods out of you immediately, like a deep sigh. You sag in Joel's arms, feeling as he slowly loosens you. 
"She's had it for months," Joel tells you, no longer pinning you to the wall. 
"Months?" 
You're still stunned by the developments but it doesn't stop your eyes from traveling over to Ellie. You see now that tears are slipping off the end of her nose as she silently cries. She’s pulled her sleeve back down, covering the scar.
Your heart immediately breaks because it's you who did this to her. This girl who trusts so few. You treated her like she was a monster. 
"Ellie I'm sorry, I just..." You trail off, your heart still beating wildly. 
But Ellie has tears in her eyes, her neck blotchy. She's raced to the garage, slamming the door after her. You flinch at the sound of it. 
Then it’s just you and Joel in the quiet kitchen.
"How long have you known?"
"Since I met her," Joel explains quietly. "Was bringing her to the fireflies with a friend in exchange for a battery. Rumor was there was a cure."
"Guess not if you're both here," you say absently, missing the pain in his dark eyes when you say it. 
"Not a lot of people know about it. We'd like to keep it that way."
You nod, your mind whirring. You realize you've never seen Ellie in anything but long sleeves. Never seen her wearing bracelets or anything that would draw her attention to her arms. She’s been hiding in plain sight. You think of the friendships she hasn’t made, the way she keeps to herself, the hostile way she is with most and it all clicks into place.
"We were thinking of gettin' her a tattoo to cover it up,” Joel continues. “Haven't found anyone to do it yet." 
You nod again, eyes falling on the pastries now lying squashed on the floor, the warm berries oozing out onto the wood.
“I’ll take care of this stuff,” Joel mutters, dropping to his knees and starting to pick up the supplies you brought. You think of how excited Ellie had been to recreate the pop tarts, how devastated she’ll be when she realizes they’re all ruined.
"I- I think I should go talk to Ellie."
"She doesn't wanna talk. Trust me."
"Just lemme try."
Joel looks as if he's about to protest but you're already walking quickly until you've reached the door to the garage. You knock gently.
"Ellie? It's me. Please don't be upset ... I was just startled."
There's a pause, then a sniffle that makes your heart lurch. 
"Can we talk? Please, Ellie?" 
You hear shuffling and then finally the door to the garage is opened a crack and you see Ellie peering through. Her eyes are swollen and red, the end of her nose pink. She glares at you through the small slit in the door. 
"Fuck off."
"I just want to explain. Just let me explain and then I promise I'll leave."
She doesn't move, doesn't attempt to close or open the door. She just stands there like some sentry. 
“Five minutes. That’s all I need.”
"You think I'm a freak."
"I don't," you insist, palm on the door as if you could transfer your emotions by osmosis to her. "Ellie I was having fun right before all this. I really was. Can we talk? Please? I want to explain properly." 
Ellie’s glossy eyes scan your body and with a labored sigh she steps back, opening the door and allowing you entrance. 
"Come in."
You follow her into the warm space, watching as she drops onto her made bed. Ellie hugs her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as you look at her. Ellie's eyes drag from the floor up to your face and you see her chin trembling as she holds in tears. 
“Can I sit?” you ask motioning to beside her on the bed. She nods, shuffling to give you room to perch there.
“I know you’re not gonna come back after this,” Ellie says, eyes wide with a quiet pleading as you look over at her.
“Of course I am.”
“No you’re not,” Ellie says shaking her head and rubbing angrily at her eyes. “You’ve seen my arm. You think I’m a fucking freak.”
"Ellie I swear I don't think you're a freak," you emphasize as you shuffle on the edge of her bed. "I was just... That bite took me back to a really scary time."
"Yeah," Ellie says with her chin balanced on her kneecap. "No one wants to think about... All that stuff." 
You see the desolation there in her eyes. She's hurt and even though you didn't mean to do it you did. You feel responsible for her sadness. Your eyes go to her closed door, wanting to make sure you have privacy before you turn back to her.
"Ellie, can I share some stuff with you?"
"Yeah.”
"It's not happy stuff," you tell her. 
"Figured." Ellie shrugs again like it doesn't matter. Like she's seen it all. Maybe she has, but you doubt it. She doesn’t make eye contact with you.
“It’s just. . . I’ve never told anyone this stuff before. Ever.”
Ellie’s eyes go to your face now. She can see how serious you are and she straightens slightly. She goes from being hunched and holding her legs to sitting cross legged across from you on the bed.
"Okay..." You take a sharp inhale. “So, I was about your age when Outbreak Day happened. I was with my Dad and my sister. My mom was visiting my Aunt in Wyoming-“
“How come?”
“Ellie you gotta let me get this all out quick okay?” you say gently. “No interruptions.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” you breathe deeply again. “She was visiting my aunt because my aunt was getting a divorce and my mom wanted to support her. Anyway, about ten years ago my dad and my little sister and I were travelling between QZ’s. We were looking for my Mom because my Dad was convinced she was still alive and she’d be out in this direction.”
You swallow; hating talking about this but knowing that Ellie deserves this truth. So far she looks intrigued, her eyes wide.
“So one night we were exhausted. We’d been travelling for days and we were low on food and water. We see this old cabin and it looks like it’s abandoned. We figure it’s a good spot to hunker down and get some energy before we keep going.” You exhale a shuddering breath.
“Except it wasn’t abandoned. It was a trap set up by this group of Raiders. I called them The Group. They killed my dad and they were gonna kill me and my sister when one of the guys had the bright idea that they could use us as bait.”
"Bait?"
 Ellie seems to remember she’s not supposed to say anything because she ducks her head slightly.
"Yeah. they made us go into new places first," you explain detached, as if you’re talking about another woman in another life. "So if there was anything dangerous it would get us in enough time to give The Group a chance to escape.”
Ellie is staring at you wide-eyed, all her teenage ambivalence lost as you detail the most terrifying years of your life. You omit lots of the more gruesome details and you definitely don’t tell her about Rock River.  
"Once they hung me from a tree," you tell her, trying not to sound emotional. It's not hard. Years of hiding how that part of your life affects you makes you good at it. "They tied me to a rope and hung me on a branch to attract clickers."
"Jesus."
"Yeah," you nod. "It worked really well. There was a big group and they piled underneath me, trying to grab at me, their mouths all black and their teeth gnashing and...” you stop yourself when you see Ellie’s eyes widening. “Anyway, The Group got ‘em all and managed to get some good supplies in the town because of it. I just... It just left me kind of..."
You wince when you realize you’ve trailed off, your focus blurred.
"The point is that when I saw your arm it just all came flooding back and I reacted out of instinct. Not because I think you're a freak. I could never think that about you.”
Ellie is quiet, digesting all that you've told her. You think you hear a creaking outside her door, but you're not sure. Your attention is drawn back to the girl who’s eyes hold such a myriad of emotions; pain, empathy, fear, anger.
"How did you end up here?" 
You think about not telling her. But it feels so good to be getting some of this information out, like you’re coughing up a thick black piece of flesh that’s been festering in your lungs for years, making it so you can now finally breathe.
"One guy, Chiyo, he joined up with our group a few years after I was taken. He owned a shooting range before everything.... You know…. Well, he'd broken his ankle in a recent raid and couldn’t really move much. If we hadn't come upon him when we did he probably would have been killed by another group of raiders. But as it was he had this giant stash of weapons and The Groups ranks were thinning so..."
You trail off, thinking of how you'd come upon him first when you and The Group got to town. How the leader you thought of as Red due to his hair (you never learned their real names), shoved you brutally by the shoulder.
Always the bait.
But after what had happened only the week before you didn’t care anymore. Red pushed you and you entered willingly, your feet not even dragging as you walked. It was either be shot by one of The Group attempting to escape, or see what resided inside the shop with the boarded up windows.
Chiyo’s gun was trained on you the second you walked in. The way you held your hands at your eye level when he told you he was going to shoot.
“I’m gonna blow your head clean off if you take another step.”
And suddenly you’d decided that you were done. You were so tired. And at least this way it would be quick and it would be away from The Group. And so you’d taken another step towards Chiyo, hands still raised.
You can still recall the furrowing of his thick brows and the lowering of his weapon as he stared at you.
"You want to die?"
You hadn't answered him but that had been answer enough for Chiyo. He'd hobbled over to you, dragging his lame leg, dark eyes fixed on your face. 
"I'm not gonna hurt you."
And when he'd said it, you'd believed him.
You remember the way you'd convinced the rest of The Group they needed someone like him. A crack shot, you told them. You'd had no idea of knowing if it was true. But there had been warmth in Chiyo's eyes that was missing from the rest of The Groups. Something that you clinged to in the coming months.
"Thankfully he was a really good shot,” you explain. “He joined up and we stripped his shop of his guns and eventually his ankle healed thanks to the medic in The Group and he was suddenly part of the team.”
“Was he nice to you?”
“Yeah. He was really kind. Whenever they used me as bait he insisted on going with. He said it was so we could save me for really bad missions, but I knew it was to protect me. They let him get away with it because he was such a good shot, I think.  Everyone liked him. When the rest of The Group was asleep we'd talk by the fire. Chiyo was afraid of horses," you tell Ellie with a small smile. “Was about the only thing he was afraid of.”
You don't tell her everything. You don't tell of the tender way he fucked you in the wee hours of the morning before The Group rose most mornings. How he whispered that he missed his dead wife and would never dishonor her memory by kissing you. But you hadn’t minded, you understood and you’d both been gentle with each other.
You’d enjoyed getting lost in the sensation of him. Of his cock in your mouth, of your cunt stuffed full of him. The rhythmic sensation of sex that took you out of your body and away from your every day horrors.
You remember how he would hold you, tears sliding onto your collar as he spilled himself onto your belly whimpering his dead wife’s name. How he would thank you over and over with your hand at the base of his skull, mouth against his shoulder while you quietly sobbed your own gratitude.
"After a few months he told me he was escaping. He'd heard about Jackson City and that's where he was headed. He wanted to bring me to see if we could find my Mom."
"Holy shit,” Ellie breathes. “Where is he now?"
"He didn't make it," you tell her tightly.
And now the shield is back in your voice and eyes and she must sense it. Ellie doesn’t press this, seems to understand that there is more there. With a teenagers’ sensibilities and a teenager’s romanticism she asks you her next question.
"Were you in love with him?"
Chiyo is a faint memory, a watercolor blur if you think about him in too much detail. When you try to recall things like the scar over his left eyebrow or the dragon tattoo on his inner thigh. But these are just pieces of him. They aren't him. 
When you think of Chiyo there is a warmth. But it's the warmth that comes from having a benevolent savior. One who never told you that you were in his debt. Yes, you cared for him. Of course you did. He was gentle and he was kind and his heart was soft.
"No," you say firmly. "He was nice though and I cared about him. Probably as close to love as I'll ever get." 
You and Ellie are quiet for a long time.
“I tried saving a bit boy once,” she finally offers. “His name was Sam. Tried rubbing my blood on him. Thought it would save him. It didn’t. He turned and his brother had to kill him before he killed himself.”
You don’t allow yourself to cry. You know that isn’t what Ellie needs right now.
“I’m the reason so many people are dead,” Ellie explains when you say nothing in return. “My Mom died having me. Riley… Tess… Sam…Henry... Ellie’s voice is doing that same detached thing yours does. “Sometimes I honestly think it would be better if I was never born.”
You can’t help the way your arms leap out in front of you to gather the girl into your arms. She tries to fight you on it, flinching from the contact before your unrelenting arms pull her into a tight squeeze, tugging her into your lap. Angry tears slip down her red cheeks, her cries breaking free as you wrestle her into a bear hug.
“I’m so glad you exist, Ellie.”
And then all the fight is gone from her body and she’s sobbing quietly into your shoulder, her tiny frame shaking. You hold her against you, wanting your adoration and affection to move through your body into hers so she knows how much she’s wanted.
“The world would be so much worse without you in it,” you assure her honestly. “You’re special, Ellie. And not because you’re immune. Because you’re smart and brave and funny and you make people like me feel like we’re worth something.”
Her arms wrap around your neck, face in your shoulder and she allows you to continue holding her, rocking her gently in your lap as if she were your own teenage daughter.
“And yes you’re stubborn and you can be annoying,” you add, trying to lighten the mood. “But there’s no one I like talking to as much as I like talking to you. You made me look forward to breakfasts in the dining hall because it meant I got to speak to you.”
“You’re just saying that,” she sniffles, arms loosely circling your neck.
“You don’t like liars, right?” You remind her. “Well I’m not lying. Plus, I know Joel loves you and he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that loves many people so you must be pretty great.”
Ellie gives a shallow huff of amusement in your shoulder.
“And I know Maria and Tommy adore you just as much if not more than I do. And if you opened up a little more with the kids around here I know they’d love you just as much as we do because you’re a wonderful person. The world would be so much worse without your light, Ellie. You bring light to the darkness.”
You continue rocking her for several moments, waiting until her sobs turn into hiccups and then gentle swallows. Finally she pulls back from you, almost embarrassed at the emotional display. She shuffles back onto the bed, picking at the loose string hanging from her pillow.
“I think I’m cursed.”
“Hey now that’s not true,” you insist. “I’m here aren’t I? How is that a curse? If anything it’s a blessing.”
She gives you a weak smile that you return.
“C’mon, let’s go and finish the pop tarts.”
“We’ll have to start all over again,” Ellie almost whines.
“Then I guess I’ll be staying here a little longer.”
Ellie wipes at her blotchy face, running her hands down her cheeks before nodding and standing abruptly.  You two make it back into the kitchen, surprised to see Joel standing there. His broad shoulders ripple as he works on something in front of him, his back to you.
Ellie sails over to him, her eyes wide when she sees what he’s done. “Wait are those the pop tarts?”
“Yep.”
“I thought they were ruined.”
“Yours were,” Joel shrugs, spreading icing onto one of the homemade pop tarts. “Mine went okay.”
You feel as if you’ve been physically pushed.
Joel baked?
Ellie snags one of the still warm pastries from the plate as Joel starts running the cloth over the counter and wiping the crumbs into the sink. You look at the joy on Ellie’s face as she takes a bite.
“Holy shit, Joel, these are so fucking good.”
“Language,” Joel admonishes over his shoulder, though there’s nothing harsh in it. He turns around, hip resting against the counter.
“I’m gonna have you do all my baking,” Ellie continues as if she hasn’t heard him.  “I’ll just be your taste tester.”
You want to grin at this but all you can do is stare at Joel and the soft way he’s smiling down at Ellie. This open look of adoration you so rarely see. Like there’s this secret Joel inside the mean Joel shell that the privileged few witness.
Joel could never disappoint me.
Joel seems to feel your eyes on him because he blinks over at you, dark eyes darting around your face. His expression is unreadable, but there’s nothing cruel or cold in it. He’s just looking at you, almost as if he’s trying to figure you out as well.  
“Well looks like we’re all set here so I should go,” you start awkwardly, suddenly feeling strangely light headed. Joel steps towards you, brows rising.
“You could stay for a dr-“ Joel begins, but you’ve already made your way to the front door, pulling on your boots and jacket.
Your hands are trembling for some reason and you think it must be all this emotional turmoil you’ve shared with Ellie. It has you feeling vulnerable and exposed and you want to escape home to the safety of your bed, away from soulful brown eyes and soft smiles.
“Ellie you wanna grab breakfast before patrols?”  you ask, studiously ignoring Joel who stands next to her looking at you. You don’t want her to think you’re rushing off and forgetting about her.
“Sure,” Ellie says brightly before motioning to the plate of pastries. “You want any of these to go?”
“Nah, you enjoy them,” you insist with a flash of a smile. “You worked hard.”
You don’t look backwards as you rush out the door of their home and down the sidewalk of Rancher Street, convinced you can feel Joel’s dark gaze on you the entire way.
-----------------------------
secondary a/n: The other parts I wanted to include in this chapter were gonna bloat this installment into over 10k and I wasn't even finished so I had to break it up!
CHAPTER 11 SPOILERS BELOW THE JOEL
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in chapter eleven there be smut.
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