#The only thing that makes is better is to simple inhale her with a hug

[an-established-butt-dent]

Lil Solavellan fade cuddle sesh

[iamquiantrelle]

DREAMS, FAIRYTALES, FANTASIES • iamquaintrelle

# summary: best anniversary ever....lemme know for part two - I left a lot out # pairings: jules kounde x black reader # tags: @lostennyc, @carmilladias @snowseasonmademe @sailurmewn @invertedempress @vintagesoul-01 @muglermami @beauty-gurl @queenshikongo3 @leighjadeclimbedmtkilimanjaro @oceanfanatic06 @dima-lfc @peyiswriting @thepointlessideas @kj77 @mauvecherie-writes @jessnotwiththemess @sinflowersugar @simplyyalika @irishmanwhore # warnings: porn with not a real plot.

The plan had been simple: sneak away for the weekend, no phones, no interruptions, no schedules — just them. The villa was a anniversary surprise he’d planned weeks ago, booked after a particularly long month of away games and media obligations. He’d wanted something that felt suspended from time, where they could fuck, sleep, eat, and repeat until neither of them could remember what day it was.

But of course, things got delayed.

His physio session ran late. Traffic through the outskirts of Barcelona had been a mess. Then there was the stop for wine — he could’ve skipped it, but he wanted her favorite bottle, the one she only pulled out when she was feeling soft and in love or dangerous and in charge.

By the time he reached the gated entrance to the villa, he was buzzing. Not from frustration — from want. From the thought of her already there, waiting. From the last voice note she’d sent, teasing him with the sound of her sighing his name and whispering: You better be ready to ruin me tonight.

He was.

She’s waiting by the window, wearing the kind of lingerie that made him speed the whole damn drive just to get to her.

Jules watches for a second. Just watches. She hasn’t noticed him yet — too caught up in the moonlight flickering against her skin. The soft curve of her hips. The way the lace hugs her ass like it was designed for that exact reason.

He shuts the door with a quiet click, and she turns her head over her shoulder, slow and lazy. “Took your time.”

“You wore that on purpose,” he says, walking toward her like a man possessed. “Knew I wouldn’t be able to think straight.”

“I don’t want you thinking tonight.” She smirks. “Just feeling.”

Jules sets the mood from the jump. No talking. Just a kiss — deep, hot, one hand gripping the back of her neck, the other palming her ass with full intent.

“You really remember what today is?” she asks against his mouth, teasing.

He bites her bottom lip, then licks it. “Our anniversary.” “And what does that mean?” “It means you’re mine tonight.” “I’m always yours.”

She says it so simply, so certainly, it makes his chest ache a little. His hands roam her body like he’s re-learning her curves, even though he already knows them like scripture.

He lifts her easily — she wraps her legs around him like muscle memory — and carries her into the bedroom to, where candlelight flickers and the bed is covered in soft black silk. There’s a leather leash on the nightstand. She grins when he sees it.

“You ready to try what we talked about?”

She nods, biting her lip.

Jules runs his thumb over her mouth. “Use your safe word if it’s too much.”

“I won’t need it.”

He believes her.

“This what you wore just for me? Seriously?” His voice is low, dipped in heat and gravel.

She nods. “You like it?”

“I love it.”

His knuckles trail down the line of her décolletage, slow enough to make her skin ripple. She inhales sharply as he takes his time — one strap, then the other — sliding them down her shoulders until they fall into the bend of her elbows.

His fingers skim down her arms, chasing the fabric like a lover tracing old poetry. The lace falls from her breasts like a whisper, soft and deliberate, revealing skin he already knows but never tires of seeing.

He exhales through his nose like it’s grounding him. His hands settle at her waist, eyes dragging up the expanse of her now bare chest.

“You know I dream about this?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. “You standing in front of me like this. Wearing next to nothing. Letting me take my time.”

“You’re still talking,” she whispers, lips tilting into a dare.

That earns her a smirk. “I know.”

Then he’s sinking to his knees in front of her.

Fingers slip beneath the band of her panties — dark lace clinging to her hips like it doesn’t want to let go — and he kisses just above the seam, then lower, then lower still, until her breath stutters.

He glances up at her from under his lashes. “Last chance to stop me.”

She cups his jaw with one hand, thumb brushing his cheekbone. “Take it off, Jules.”

And he does.

Slow. Gentle. Like unwrapping a gift he’s waited too long for.

When he finally lets the lace drop to the floor, he presses a kiss to her hipbone and whispers, “Fucking perfect.”

She just smiles, legs already parting in silent invitation as she lies back on the bed.

_________________________________________

She’s on all fours, ass arched high, the leash clipped gently to a soft collar. Her moans are muffled against the pillow as he moves inside her, slow and deep, one hand firm on her lower back. The other trails from her nape down her spine, fingertips electric. He leans forward and kisses the space between her shoulder blades.

“Say it again,” he murmurs, voice thick with hunger.

“I’m yours.” “Louder, baby. Let the whole villa know who you belong to.” “I’m yours—fuck, I’m yours!”

That does something to him.

He grabs a fistful of her locs and pulls her head back just enough for her to meet his eyes in the mirror across the room. She’s flushed, glistening, glowing. The leash tugs slightly with the movement, and she gasps, thighs trembling.

“Pretty little wildcat,” he growls. “Can’t believe you let me do this to you.”

“You like it,” she breathes.

“I love it.”

Her body tightens around him when he says it like that — guttural, reverent. He fucks her harder now, pulling her back onto him, each thrust hitting deep and dirty, the kind that makes her cry out his name like a prayer and a curse all at once.

“Putain, tu prends tout, ma chérie…” His accent roughens the French as he growls into her ear, “T’es tellement serrée pour moi.” (Fuck, you’re taking all of me… you’re so tight for me.)

“Harder,” she whines, reaching back for him blindly. “Jules, fuck—harder.”

Her moans are helpless, throat raw with them, eyes glossy with pleasure. The leash gives just enough tension to make her feel it, to remind her who’s in control, but not so much that she ever feels unsafe. That’s the line he walks perfectly — dominance without cruelty, demand without disregard.

He leans in, breath hot on her ear. “You feel how wet you are for me?”

She whimpers a yes.

“You want to cum, baby?”

“Yes, please,” she gasps, voice cracking on the word. “Please, Jules, I—”

“Not yet.”

He pulls out just to watch her clench around nothing, thighs shaking. Then he slides back in, slower this time, dragging out every second of her agony. His hand slips beneath her to play with her clit, and she bucks into his touch like she’s starving for it.

“Beg for it.”

She’s so close she can’t even think. “Jules, please, let me cum, let me cum—I need it, I need you—”

“Say my name again.”

“Jules.”

“Again.”

“Jules—”

“That’s it, baby. Cum for me.”

And she does.

It rolls through her like thunder, shaking her whole body. Her scream is muffled against the pillow but still loud enough to echo off the walls. She clenches around him so tight he groans, fucking her through it with deep, punishing strokes until she’s twitching, boneless, face wet with tears she doesn’t remember crying.

But he’s not done.

He doesn’t stop.

They soon end up in the shower.

The collar’s off now. The leash too. But her body still sings with the memory of it, and Jules can see it in the way she leans into every touch, every command.

“Turn around,” he growls, voice echoing against the marble walls.

She does, pressing her palms to the slick glass, water streaming over her curves. He drops to his knees behind her, spreading her ass, tongue lapping at the mess still dripping from her.

“Jules—shit—fuck, baby—”

The way she moans when he eats her out could make a sinner repent. He grips her thighs tight, holding her steady as he devours her like he’s starving — and he is. Starving for her taste, for her sounds, for the way her legs tremble when he flicks his tongue just right.

“I can’t—I’m gonna cum again—”

He hums against her and sucks on her clit until she breaks apart again, this time sobbing his name so loud it sounds like confession.

____________________________________________

He watches her from below like she’s art — lit by candlelight and wrapped in nothing but the moon and the sheen of her own arousal. She rides him with the confidence of a woman who knows exactly how good she feels and how wrecked she makes him.

Her hands press to his chest, hips grinding down as she moans his name over and over again, like it’s the only word that matters.

“Look at you,” he groans, fucking up into her. “Fucking gorgeous like this. Dripping all over me.”

She leans down, lips brushing his. “You make me like this. You make me filthy.”

“Good,” he breathes, cupping her ass and slapping it lightly. “Wanna see how filthy you can get.”

She moans as he thrusts up harder, the slap of skin echoing through the room, the bed creaking beneath their pace. She bites his shoulder and laughs breathlessly as her orgasm starts to build again.

“I’m gonna cum,” she warns, hand scrambling to brace herself on his abs. “Don’t stop, don’t stop—”

“Cum on my cock, baby. Let me feel it.”

She nods desperately. “Please—please, Jules.”

And fuck, does he ever feel it — the way she clamps down around him, how her body jolts with every wave of release.

She screams.

She cums.

Again.

Her third, maybe fourth — she’s lost count. And so did he.

But that’s what finally tips him over.

“Tu veux que je vienne dans cette petite chatte?” he whispers hoarsely. (You want me to cum in this tight little pussy?)

He grips her hips and spills into her with a low, drawn-out groan, face buried in her neck, the world shrinking to nothing but her warmth, her scent, her name on his tongue.

They don’t sleep for hours.

She teases him back to hardness with kisses and slow strokes. He returns the favor with fingers and whispered filth that makes her thighs part before he even touches her.

By the time the sun starts to rise over the hills, she’s dozing in his arms, leg slung over his waist, mouth open against his collarbone.

Jules brushes a kiss against her temple and closes his eyes.

This. This was what he wanted.

A dream, a fairytale. A fantasy that belonged to no one but them.

And tomorrow? They’d wake up and do it all over again.

[pasukiyo]

LEFT UNSPOKEN

remus lupin x f!reader word count; 3,286 warnings; very word vomit-y, very much a self-insert lol, very small mentions of sex summary; she wakes in the middle of the night and knows only two things are for certain: remus is not sleeping, and something is wrong.

 There is an indentation in the shape of Remus Lupin in the space on the bed beside her. 

 She is not sure what actually wakes her, but she lifts her head from her pillow and knows one thing is for certain: Remus is not sleeping, and something is wrong. 

 She blinks away the sleep from her eyes to the best of her ability and pushes herself into an upright position. She leans over to the bedside table to click on the lamp, narrowing her eyes for a better read of the clock. It was three in the morning and the moon spilled its ghostly hues into the bedroom through the thin curtains of the window, slowly sinking further down past the horizon. 

 She yawns and rolls her neck, tossing the comforter away from her legs. When her feet lower to find the carpet, they meet denim instead and she kicks Remus' jeans away as she stands, pulling his burgundy jumper over her head while she makes her way towards the door. 

 There is a slight chill to the air when she peels open the bedroom door and her arms cross over her chest for warmth as she pads down the hallway leading into the living room and kitchen. It’s here where she finds Remus, sitting at the window, knees to his chest. He wears nothing but his boxers and she thinks that he must be cold, so she ambles towards the couch to grab a quilt. 

 Remus turns his head as she enters the living room, wearing his jumper and bringing a quilt over to drape over his legs. He glances up at her sheepishly, pressing his lips together in a tight smile. 

 “Did I wake you?” He asks, his voice still rough and gravelly with sleep. She inhales as she settles herself onto the window seat across from him, hugging her legs to her chest and stretching his jumper out to cover her knees. She shakes her head, “since it seems like you’ve been out here for quite some time, no. I just woke up.”

 Still, Remus apologizes softly, watching as she eyes him up and down, tilting her head to rest it against the cool glass. His skin erupts in goosebumps and he is unsure whether it is from the air or from the intensity of her gaze but either way, he readjusts the blanket on his legs, looking anywhere but at her. 

 “Are you hurting again?” She asks after a moment and Remus closes his eyes— he hates how well she knows him. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat again and swallows, nodding. He looks down to the quilt draped over his legs, “I’m quite surprised my tossing and turning didn’t wake you. I’ve been restless all night.”

 She shrugs, “I suppose I’ve gotten used to it.”

 A humorless laugh leaves Remus’s nose and she blinks, her gaze softening. “Have you taken your potion?” She questions and he tries to breathe through the irritation that tinges him at the question— of course he’s taken his potion, he does it every month but still, he hurts. He knows deep down that it is only a simple question and that she means well and the last thing he wants is to yell at her but this condition, this curse within him makes him want to scream, to kick and yell and hurt. 

 “Yes,” he answers a little too quickly, his tone harsh and sharp. He curses at himself beneath his breath and shakes his head, forcing his gaze back towards the window. Nevertheless, she does not flinch, doesn’t so much as blink. She’s known him far too long and been through too much with him to let something as small as this affect her. 

 “Where do you ache?” She asks and he snaps his head back towards her, his brows knit. “What?” He says as if he didn’t hear her and she repeats her question, to which Remus only blinks at her in bewilderment. Again, he knows she means well but really, how much does she think she can help?

 He inhales and closes his eyes, willing himself to relax. With great effort, he exhales, shrugging. “My shoulders, I suppose,” he replies. “It feels like they’re going to cave in on me.” 

 Without hesitation, she lifts herself from her seat and moves to stand behind him, tapping his back with her palm. “Scoot,” she says simply and Remus turns, with great effort, to peer at her from over his shoulder. Before he can even protest, her gaze hardens and he has no choice but to comply, scooting himself further up the window seat until she can fit herself comfortably behind him. 

 An owl hoots from somewhere outside the window and the moon slowly begins to sink below the tops of the surrounding buildings.  She uses the pad of her thumb to feel around his right shoulder blade and Remus winces. 

 “Where does it hurt?” She asks.

 He hisses between his teeth, “everywhere,” he practically growls.

 His muscles scream and his mind begins to swirl like a cyclone in a supercell and it takes everything within him to not snarl through his teeth and yell every obscenity in his vocabulary at her. She begins to knead through the clump of knots in his shoulder, her fingers not too gentle, yet not too rough either. Remus’s eyes flutter closed and he tries to shut his brain off, tries to just feel. 

 He can feel her fingers against the bare skin of his back, can feel her knee as it presses against his lower end, her hair as it brushes against his shoulder. He can smell her, the scented shampoo that’s now faint, giving way to the smell of sex and his skin burns with the memory of just mere hours before. 

 He begins to ease into her touch, his head even lolling back as his mind orbits thoughts of solely her. He can still taste her on his lips, his mouth buzzing with the phantom of her kiss. He drops his head and turns and she leans in closer, her breath rolling like early morning dew onto his skin. 

 “Does it feel good?” She asks and he hums, nodding. She breathes a laugh, “if I’d known you were in pain, I wouldn’t have provoked you earlier.” 

 His breath comes out as more of a laugh and he blinks up at her and their eyes meet and Merlin, it’s like all else ceases to exist when he sees her. He searches through her irises, the dilated pupils in the middle of them and finds that he’s falling more in love with her with every second that ticks past, even in the state he’s in. His heart aches in his chest and for a moment, his body forgets that it is in pain and his lips part, drawing nearer to hers. 

 She simply waits, continuing to knead the knots in his shoulders. His breath shudders and he wishes he had the words to convey to her how he feels in this moment but he’s too tired so instead he presses his lips to hers. They melt into one another and there’s suddenly nothing more important than her and her lips, her skin against his. 

 There’s a certain fervor that Remus kisses her with how that she’s never felt before and somewhere in the back of her mind, she knows that there’s more that’s been left unspoken. She kisses him back with the same zeal until she feels her lips begin to grow numb and she pulls away, chasing air back into her lungs. 

 Remus’s forehead falls against hers and it’s not until she presses her head harder against his that he meets her gaze. “Talk to me,” she whispers and he tilts his head. She narrows her eyes, “don’t play coy with me, Remus Lupin. I know when there’s something preoccupying that pretty head of yours.”

 He turns and almost curses beneath his breath again— she knows him too well. 

 He turns back to face the window, the street below that is illuminated solely by the orange street lamps, the dark sky and the twinkling lights that litter it. He eases himself into the pads of her thumbs as they rub circles against his shoulder blades locking his fingers over his opposite wrist.

 “I just…” he trails off, unsure where to begin. “…do you ever wish you could just… I don’t know… ask the universe questions?”

 She tilts her head. “What do you mean?” She asks, and he sighs, shaking his head. 

 “I don’t know… it’s just…” he’s beginning to grow frustrated with himself again but almost as if she can sense it, she leans in to press her lips against the nape of his neck and a slither rolls down his spine and all is well again. “…sometimes I just feel like I don’t know what I’m doing or what I should be doing with my life. I wish I could just, you know, ask the universe what exactly it wants from me.”

 She drops her chin to rest on his shoulder as she continues to rub through the aches there, and she grows silent. For a moment, Remus wonders if it was a mistake to open up at all. 

 Then, “all the time.”

 Remus sighs and although this feeling— one of being lost, like he’s living in slow motion while the world keeps spinning around him— is horrible, he is, in a way, relieved that he is not alone. He leans back into her and she pulls her hands away from his shoulders to instead wrap them around his neck, allowing him to be drawn further into her. 

 Her lips press against the crown of his head and he closes his eyes, simply ravishing the feeling of being wrapped in the warm arms of his lover. There’s nothing better than being completely surrounded by her and it almost makes him forget about his feelings, his lycanthropy, even. 

 “Sometimes I feel like everyone around me is moving so fast-paced, like they’ve gotten everything figured out and I’m just… stuck,” she admits in a murmur against his head. His eyes flutter open and he breathes, focusing on the steady beat of her heart against his back.

 He pauses to ponder her words for a moment, letting them swirl around his head before they finally begin to sink in. He turns ever so slightly, just enough to see her where she rests her chin on his shoulder. She blinks at him and he wonders how this girl, this beautiful, perfect, impossible girl could possibly be his, nor can he comprehend now she could possibly feel stuck. He thinks to himself whether he was failing her, if somehow, in his own state of self-destruction, he was tearing her down too. 

 It sends his mind down a spiral and his face darkens, which she notices his doubt as soon as it crosses his face like shadows over the moon. She nudges the underside of his jaw with the bridge of her nose, pressing her lips to his collarbone. 

 “Talk to me,” she urges him again in a soft murmur against his skin and Remus shivers, reaching to clasp a hand around one of her wrists as if to anchor her to him, like he’s scared that she’s letting go. She lets him, and she watches his other hand as it searches for something to do while he musters the courage to speak. She outstretches her hand and gestures for him to take it, which he does, albeit dubiously. 

 “I sometimes wonder if I’m even any good for you,” he admits quietly after a prolonged moment of silence. She blinks and he feels her eyelashes graze against his flesh and he almost regrets saying the words as soon as they come out of his mouth. He sighs and moves to drop her hand but she doesn’t let him, tightening her grip and lifting her chin from his shoulder. “What is that supposed to mean?” She asks and he almost flinches at her sudden clipped tone. 

 “I…” A breath leaves his lips frustratingly and he shakes his head. “…I don’t want you to feel stuck with me. I don’t want you to let me and my problems drag you down. I couldn’t live with myself if I were to burden you.”

 There is another silence that falls like snow over them and Remus’s spine begins to stiffen with frost as chills slither down it. The air has an icy bite to it now and he knows that he must’ve said the wrong thing because now she’s pulling away from him altogether and now he’s in his head thinking, ‘now you’ve done it, Lupin. You’ve reminded her of how you’re weighing her down and now you’ve lost the only good thing you had left in your life.’

 His gaze drops to his lap and he almost doesn’t realize she’s circling around to his front until he feels her middle and index finger against his chin, tilting his head up until their eyes could meet once again. Her brows are knit and the corners of her lips are cast downwards as if she’s angry but there’s a softness, a tenderness in her eyes that seems to make him feel small. It’s one he’s never really seen in her before, but he knows that what he said struck her like a blow to the chest. 

 Remus’s bottom lip trembles as it parts away from his top and he vows to himself that he will never, ever do anything to make her look at him like that ever again. He never wants to hurt her badly enough to see the glossy barrier form in her eyes, her tight-pressed lips that quiver ever so slightly like he sees now. All he can do is simply hold his breath and wait for her to speak again. 

 She swallows, and then she does. “Remus Lupin, you are such a fool!” 

 It comes out as more of an exclamation and she drops his chin, shaking her head and crossing her arms over her chest. He watches as she turns to stare out the window, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth. 

 “Do you not see how in love with you I am?” She asks with a scoff, her narrowing eyes finding his again. He blinks, taken aback by her outburst. “Merlin, I am so in love with you and I care so deeply for you that I cannot believe you would misinterpret it as you being a burden on me!” 

 He blinks again as she sinks onto the window seat before him, sinking her teeth into the plush of her bottom lip, eyeing him. His heart beats so fast with her abrupt proclamation and it takes everything within him not to shut her up with his lips on hers, he has to force himself to breathe to suppress the urge. Remus never once felt loved in the way he now knows she loves him, and he’s quite unsure what to do with himself. All he can do is sit and stare speechlessly at the woman in front of him. 

 “You’re the only thing I have that I’m scared to lose,” she admits, quietly this time. Remus’s gaze softens and although he wishes to move closer, he’s frozen to his spot so he simply waits for her to continue. “I said I feel stuck because it feels like nearly everyone else around me has found their purpose in their life and I’m still trying to figure out where I fit in this world,” she says and she looks off to the kitchen table across the room, an old typewriter with a blank sheet of paper standing erect on the top. 

 “I sit and stare at blank pages on my typewriter everyday, waiting for my will to write to come back to me,” she continues. “And somewhere deep down, I want to believe that writing is what I’m meant to do, that writing is my purpose in life, but then words don’t come and then I get into my own head and I begin to doubt.”

 Remus’s heart begins to feel heavy as it soaks in her words, absorbing through his skin like a sponge. He’s never seen her so vulnerable before and it hurts knowing she’s kept all of this bottled for so long. The best he can do now is listen, to allow her to take this weight off of her chest and throw it onto him, even if only temporarily. 

 “All I do is doubt myself and it makes me feel so lost,” she says, her voice slowly beginning to lower and he knows that she is nearing her end. He scoots himself closer to her, reaching for her hand. She blinks down at their laced fingers, “I just feel like I’m falling behind. Sometimes I just wish things would slow down so I could have time to catch up and not doubt.” 

 She uses her free hand to press the pads of her fingers into one of her closed eyelids, sighing as she throws it back down to her lap. “But the only thing I never doubt is you. Never once do I doubt loving you, or caring for you. I could never see you as a burden, Remus.”

 The pad of Remus’s thumb soothes over the back of her hand and she sighs again, her shoulders heaving. He lets the quilt over his legs drop to the floor and with the hand he has in hers, he draws her closer, guiding her in turning around so that this time, she could fall back against him. His arms wrap around her shoulders and he falls back against the wall so they could sit comfortably, melting into one another. 

 “Sorry,” she says after a moment and he shakes his head. 

 “Don’t be,” he murmurs against her hair. “We should’ve been talking like this a long time ago.”

 She hums and they both turn to look at the night outside the window. He wishes there were more words, better words he could offer her now but he’s unsure what he could say that he hasn’t already tried telling himself. So instead, he tells her what he knows is for certain. 

 “I should’ve said this to you more often before but,” he starts, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I care for you too,” he says and he breathes a laugh. “I’m so completely and desperately in love with you that not even my lycanthropy can make me think it’s untrue.”

 She sniffs and it comes out as a laugh and she squeezes Remus’s arm as it tightens around her. There’s not much more either can say but holding each other, even in the silence, is enough. It’s just enough to be near each other, to feel each other, and soon, both of their eyelids begin growing heavy. There’s words they left unspoken for now, but still, a silent agreement seems to hang between them and Remus feels more at ease as he finally allows himself to drift away in the arms of his slumber. 

 The girl in his arms feels lighter than she had just moments before, like an invisible weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Even through her tired and blurring vision, she can make out the old typewriter from her periphery. As she, too, succumbs to her sleep, she begins to dream about a story, one that’s borne by the feeling of the boy holding her’s heartbeat against her back, by his soft breathing as he drifts to sleep, by his arms as they envelope her in his warmth. 

a/n; so sorry for having been inactive for so long! if you couldn't already tell from this mess of a fic, i've really been struggling trying to write. i've started at least five drafts each of different fics over the past few months but none of them were able to get very far before i doubted myself and grew too frustrated to continue. i'm very surprised i was even able to finish this one lol it's really not my best work, but it was, in a way, an outlet for me to vent and get some of this weight off my chest. i hope you are still able to enjoy this one!

(ps, i tried a new writing style here, i hope i didn't butcher it too much lol)

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[butlervibesonly]

𝑆𝑎𝑓𝑒 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑠 || Austin Butler

• Summary : Y/n is having terrible day, feeling so tired and overwhelmed lately. Until she completely loses it, but Austin gets home and everything feels safe all of sudden.

• Pairing: Austin Butler x actress! reader

• Warnings !! : angst, mentions of panic attack, crying, trembling, swearing,...

• Note : Hope y'all doing well! I thought I could write this, because we all sometimes deserve a good cry and, well, please don't tell me that I'm the only one who feels so overwhelmed lately 😭

Day by day felt same for you. All the work, meetings every day, unfinished projects... It's like a circle going around. And it's enough for you. You're sitting in living room of yours and Austin's house, your laptop lay in your lap as one notification after another flashes across your screen. Meeting tomorrow 6:00 pm, video call with producer of your next movie 11:00 am, interview at 3:00 pm.

The living room was quiet, except for the fast clicking of your keyboard as you write response to an email. The weight of the week pressed heavily on your chest, making even the simple act of sitting still feel exhausting.

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, interrupting you. It was your manager calling you. All of sudden you remember that the couch is not the place where you should be right now. “No, no, no,” you whispered, scrambling off the couch. "Y/n! Where are you, were supposed to be at a meeting right now!" she says, sounding furious. "Shit, I uh... Sorry, I completely forgot. Will I still be able to make it on time?"

"If you'll manage to get yourself here in like 5 minutes?" You hang up the call, not even bothering to answer her. Anxiety clawed at your chest as you tried to gather your things. In your rush, you tripp over the table's leg, knocking over the glass of water you’d been drinking earlier. It fell down with a loud crash, spilling the water all over the wooden floor.

"Fuck!" you hissed, staring at the mess. The tears fill your eyes, feeling a combination of the frustration and exhaustion you’d been bottling up. Your chest tightened, your breathing quickened, and suddenly it felt like the walls were closing in on you.

You can't move, not even think. All you're capable of is sitting down on the floor, leaning against the couch. You hide your face into your hands, sobbing loudly. You didn't think that it would be so much on you and certainly not that it would ruin you like this.

No longer after, you hear the door to the house being open. Austin's home. And you're here like this. This is what he comes home to. What a shame — Austin deserves to arrive to a tidy house where everything is as it should be while you sit here like this.

“Hey, I’m home,” his familiar voice filled the space, calm and grounding. The moment he saw you, he stopped mid-sentence, his expression shifting to concern. "Sweetie, what’s going on?” You, don't replying, makes him cross the room quickly, kneeling beside you. His hands wraps you tightly. Austin actually notices the broken glass, which leads him to check if you have any cut.

"Hey, hey — Y/n, baby, what's the matter?" His voice was steady, soothing, and you clung to it like a lifeline. When he notices the laptop with tons of notes and unread emails, he gets it. He inhales slowly. “Doll, breathe okay? I'm here and I won't let you go." You nod, burying your head in his chest.

Austin holds you for a while, making you to steady your breathing. "That’s it. I’m here,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. Whatever happened, we’ll figure it out," he says, his hand careful patting circles on your back.

You started to feel better, although, the tears didn’t stop. He pulls you into his arms more firmly, wrapping you in a hug so warm and secure it almost feels like there is nothing but him.

“It’s too much,” you choke out, mumbling against his chest. “I can’t do this anymore.” Austin and you talked about how overwhelmed you're feeling, but he didn't know it's this intensive.

“You don’t have to do it all at once, ya know,” he brush his fingers through your hair. "Why don't you ask me for a help? You know I'm here for you," you look up at him, your eyes red and swollen from all the crying.

"You've got a lot of your own and I don't want to bother you, Aus," you sob out. Austin smiles softly, cupping your cheek. "Baby, you never bother me, I'm here for you no matter what, okay?" he says. You nod, pulling closer to him again.

He stayed with you like this for few more minutes, holding you close, until your breathing steadied completely. And when you finally lifted your head, not crying anymore, his warm, understanding smile was waiting for you. “Why don’t we clean this up together? Then we’ll figure out the rest. Aight?” he kisses your forehead. "Mhm," you agree, grabbing his hand.

Austin wipes away tears from your cheeks, kissing you again, and helps you to your feet, steadying you against him. In his arms, the chaos of the week seemed just a little less overwhelming. In his arms, you feel safe, loved and cared about. And it's perfect.

[sevikasbeloved]

The Job (Sev x Reader)

This is just a one shot that I thought was cute and simple which I did to get back into writing again, it’s inspired by @archangeldyke-all ‘s CEO one shots because I just fell in love with them so much. This I sort of a prelude to how they might’ve met possibly maybe, I’m not sure, I haven’t proofread so if it’s bad throw tomato’s idk😋

The hustle and bustle of the city was one of the things that drew you to it the most, the way the world seemed never to stop spinning, things never stopped happening - as overwhelming as it all was, it felt safe, unpredictable, but safe.

Ready for the day ahead though, you stumbled down the street, rushing against the clock to catch the last rush hour train of the morning, the strap of your bag sitting uncomfortably on the edge of your shoulder as you bumped past slow walkers and people just finishing their late night shifts.

The train station itself was packed in like a tin of sardines, and the smell wasn’t so far off either. As you slowly edged to the end of the platform, hoping to get a better shot at catching the train you couldn’t help your impulses as your nose inhaled something so rank,

“Jesus, did somebody fucking fart or something?!” You said, nay, you yelled out loud.

Your impromptu comment garnered a couple laughs but mostly people stared at you like you were crazy, but that was nothing out of the ordinary. They quickly forgot about your short lived outburst as the train pulled into the station with a deafening screech as it scraped against the metal tracks. In an instant you felt the already tight crowd become even tighter as people pushed against each other in hopes to reach the door.

You weren’t the smallest person in the world, but in this sea of 6 ft tall robot-like corporate men and women, you could feel your chest constrict just a little. You remained calm though, looking ahead at the door as you’d done so many times before. Being small had its advantages; you could slip past people and they’d treat it as an inconvenience rather than disrespect, sometimes people would even move out of the way, like you were vulnerable and had highest priority.

You managed to sleuth your way onto the train after a small group of people, finding a seat easily just one seat out from the end of the carriage. You made an unspoken promise to yourself never to sit on an end seat again after you were trapped for an hour on the train next to this dude who couldn’t help talking and spitting so loudly on the phone, not caring one iota for your personal space.

The train filled quite quickly after you with what felt like hundreds of people rushing to get a seat. You sat there content with a smug smile that definitely pissed off those unable to catch a chair in time.

Beside you, on the end seat, a tall woman sat down, draped in a black woollen trench coat, a silk black shirt that was unbuttoned tastefully above her cleavage and some plain black slacks that hugged her thighs deliciously. You couldn’t help gawking at beautiful strangers on the train, in fact it became a fun pastime for you as you waited for the train to slowly encroach on your station. But with her sat so close to you, you only felt flustered; one, at the fact you could only make out her figure from your peripheral, and two, the fact that as she sat down, she spread herself thin, opening her legs as she let her arm dangle between them, an expensive looking watch peeking from beneath her coats sleeve.

You suddenly felt a stiff sensation against the back of your head, and you turned it slightly to see her arm had stretched out behind you. Your initial reaction to her had quickly turned sour as you looked at her with stern eyes, but not once did she look at you. Instead she gazed down at your bag that sat on your lap, a small smirk on her face. You felt a bit puzzled, her lack of personal space would have been enough for you to say something, like you’d done many times before, but the way her stone eyes lingered, you wanted to know what she was thinking more than anything.

Like she could read your mind, her eyes darted up to meet yours, her smirk growing more haughty. You pulled a tight lipped smile, feeling your cheeks grow red hot at her vicious gaze. Suddenly, she leaned over, her hand grazing your shoulder as her lips came dangerously close to your ear.

“How many bags do you have?” She whispered, pulling back with a softer and more inquisitive expression.

“I- what?” You stuttered out, confused.

“Sorry, I just mean that’s a really nice bag, I’d be shocked if you didn’t own a collection.” She explained, her brow quaking like she knew she was right.

You snorted embarrassed that she saw through you that easily,

“Well you’re right, not that it makes any of this okay” you readjusted your position to face her a little easier, even though she was sitting, her towering height was still evidently clear.

“What do you mean?” She husked, brows knitting tightly together.

“Well, your arm is practically using my neck as a rest.” You say, prodding into her gently.

She watched your hand as it made its action, chuckling softly as she moved her arm, resting her head on her palm as she stared at you.

“Sorry, I forget where I am sometimes.” She yielded, a hint of embarrassment in her tone.

“It’s okay,” you bit your tongue a little, knowing if it was anyone else you would’ve ripped them to pieces by now, “anyway, how did you know I owned a collection, are you an obscure designer I should probably know the name of?”

She didn’t respond immediately, her nose scrunching as she seemed to fight back laughter.

“Uh, obscure, yes, designer, no, not quite at least.” She started.

“I’m intrigued…” you led on,

“I work in fashion, more so the business side of it though.” She explained.

“Weird, I work in fashion also.”

“Oh really? I woulda never known!” She snarked, her eyes leaving yours as an announcement played,

The next station is Yule Street

She sucked in a sharp but quick breath as she readjusted herself,

“That’s my stop, sweetheart.”

You almost froze a bit as she said it, the pet name paired with the fact that it was also your stop making you freak out a little internally.

“What are the chances?” You scoffed, pulling your bag over your shoulder again.

She narrowed her eyes at you, a small smile creeping onto her expression,

“Not low if you’re stalking me.” She chided,

“You’re obscure remember, what need would I have to stalk you?”

She only laughed like you told the funniest joke in the world and you seemed to be missing all the context. She stood up as the train pulled into the station, gripping the pole as she effortlessly swung towards the door. She looked back at you with a grin,

“You comin’?”

You rolled your eyes, suddenly finding yourself with a “travel to work buddy”. As you both stepped off the train and out of the platform you stopped to look at eachother,

“I never got your name?” She started,

“Oh it’s, y/n.” You held out a hand to shake hers, she took it instinctively.

“Y/n, I’m Sevika.”

“Hi.” You could only manage to say.

an awkward beat of silence hummed between the two of you.

“Well, I guess, maybe I’ll see you around?” She said, suddenly unsure of what to do with herself.

“Yeah, maybe,” you lied, knowing that in this huge jungle of a city the chances of seeing her again were slim, “well I’m heading that way so,” you pointed in the direction behind her.

“You gotta be kidding me.” She mumbled as her head swung to the sky.

Suddenly it clicked for you around the same time it did for her. There was only one fashion company in this area.

“Okay, I just wanna say I am not stalking you, I know it doesn’t look that great right now but-“

“Shut up, let’s go, you’ll be late.” She interrupted playfully as she tapped your back, already making strides towards your now shared office.

You scurried behind her, and the two of you walked in mostly silence besides the awkward giggle you’d let out every time she’d glance at you.

As you reached the bottom of the tall skyscraper office, you looked at her, thinking maybe she’d say she was just kidding, and that she just wanted to walk you to work. But she kept walking ahead of you, stuffing her hands into her pockets, suddenly trying to avoid the gazed of others.

Weird, you thought, but you kept moving into the building, and as you walked in behind her, you watched intently at how she interacted with the people around. A couple waves and mindless nods, and as she hit the front desk she leaned up against it like she owned the place. You stood beside her, looking up at her with a puzzled expression.

She looked down at you from her peripheral with a smirk, clearly finding humour in something you hadn’t quite figured out yet.

“Thanks, darlin’” she husked to the lady behind the desk, taking the keycard from her hands. The receptionist blushed, waving her through.

Sevika stepped to the side, but stopped, seemingly to wait for you. Your body froze up a little more, the sudden realisation that you weren’t really working there, at least not officially, and that it would probably blow up in your face in the next couple of seconds.

“Hi, I’m here for an interview for the junior stylist position.” You mumbled, not wanting sevika to overhear you.

You looked at her briefly to see her eyes elsewhere, all over the building as she waited for you, leaning up against the turnstiles.

“Oh, perfect! You’re a little early so you can wait in the lobby until the interviewer is ready.” The receptionist said aloud.

“Okay, thanks.” You bit your lip as you looked back at Sevika who was now staring at you with a knowing look.

You walked towards her, embarrassed.

“So,” she trailed,

“I don’t work here, yet.” You admitted.

“I figured, I would’ve remembered a face like yours.” She grinned.

You shook your head all flustered, “sure, I could’ve worked here without you knowing though, there’s like a million people in this lobby alone.”

“And I know all of ‘em.” She stated like it was fact.

“Yeah, you just know everyone in this building, for some reason I find that hard to believe.”

She narrowed her eyes and bit her lip, like you were challenging her, and she took the bait. She held a finger at you, signalling you to wait right where you stood, and you did, watching her walk back to the desk and say something you couldn’t quite work out to the receptionist.

They both looked at you, and then back at each other before Sevika approached you again.

“You can come with me.” She said, walking right past you as she tapped the keycard against the reader.

Your face was shot with utter confusion but you hurried through the turnstiles before they closed on you anyhow.

“What the fuck? Can you just do that? I’m meant to be waiting for an interview.” You spluttered out.

“I'm doing your interview now.” She said, stoic in demeanour as she pressed the button for the lift.

“Excuse me? You can just…do that?”

She chuckled,

“You know, you should really check who the higher ups in this company are before you apply for this position.”

The elevator door opened with a muted dinging sound. She stepped in cooly, holding the door open as you stood there entirely dumbfounded.

“You comin’?” She said, echoing her words on the train.

You followed her silently, all of a sudden unsure how to act infront of someone who alleges to be a ‘higher up’.

“So you work in the business side of things?”

“Something like that.” She hummed, her eyes watching the numbers on the elevator rise slowly.

You also watched as the number kept increasing, higher and higher, and then, it clicked.

“Holy shit…” you breathed.

You could hear a faint laughter but you, still in shock, couldn’t process it at all.

“You own everything don’t you…” your voice creeped in disbelief.

“Heh, yeah.” She hummed.

“Oh.” You hoped you were wrong in all honesty, because as first impressions go, you were making an absolute spectacle of yourself.

Your heart pounded out of your chest, as though this new information changed every atom in the lift, closing you in with someone who could make or break your career.

Her hand came to your shoulder, and she looked at you with a hint of concern.

“Hey, there is nothing to be worried about, I’m sure you’ll do fine.” She said,

Truly, you wanted to believe her, but you could only imagine she’s said this a thousand times to a thousand applicants who didn’t get the job.

You smiled reluctantly as you clenched your fist around the strap of your bag. The lift finally opened, on floor 65.

__

The doors opened and immediately the first thing you noticed was the absence of cubical space, and then you noticed the lack of other employees. Your eyes scanned the open concept floor, quickly noting how homey it all felt for an office space.

Sevika walked ahead of you, shrugging her coat onto the brown leather couch without a care. She rounded the glass coffee table that sat in the centre of a room creating a makeshift conversation pit. You suddenly realised as you followed meekly behind her that this entire floor was hers alone.

“Does it ever get lonely up here?” Your impulsive nature spoke for you before you could catch yourself.

She didn’t respond immediately, sitting at her desk as she shuffled papers across the glass, pulling open a small drawer as she picked out a small roll-up, placing it between her lips.

She looked up at you then darted her eyes and nodded her head to the seat parallel to hers. You followed her silent instructions immediately, placing your bag beside your feet.

You waited for her to light up, and as you heard the crackling of the paper you smelt a floral note arise from her roll-up. You couldn’t help your face contorting in curiosity, her own eyes fluttering to yours as she took a deep inhale, her lips curling against the tip of the roll-up as she watched you look at her in awe.

She exhaled, leaning back, “Not lonely, no.” She placed her roll-up on a silver ashtray, “bored sometimes, but enough ends up happening in a day that I won’t stay bored.”

You nodded, like you could understand being bored as an owner of a multimillion dollar company.

She sat forward, resting her forearms on the desk as she sized you up. You tried for a moment to hold her eye contact, to show you were up for the job without any words, but her silver shot eyes made you nervous causing your gaze to wander to your lap, fiddling like a child with your fingers.

“I suppose we can skip introductions, y/n.” She said,

You nodded, hoping she’d continue in your silence,

“So you’re applying for the junior stylist position, why?”

You’d practised this speech a dozen times over the last two weeks, but as you sat in front of her, you couldn’t help feeling unbearably inept for this job.

“I, uh, It’s my passion I suppose, clothes are my passion.” You were winging it, and you were sure she knew that too, “I believe in my talent of transforming people. I know clothes are the first ingredient to one’s self expression, and to have a part of that in a company, sorry, your company, would mean the world to me.”

You watched her intently as her shoulders fell slightly, and a small smile creeped up on her face. She sat back in her seat again, reaching down into the open drawer as she pulled out a pair of glasses and a sheet of paper.

Her glasses sat on the tip of her hooked nose as she read over the piece of paper in silence. You let your eyes wander the room again, too anxious to sit there and just stare at her. You noticed behind her a framed news article;

First Queer Female CEO Debuts Her Fashion Magazine

It was dated 20 years ago. You found yourself feeling almost proud of her, which was a weird feeling considering she’s made steps in the industry you could only dream to achieve.

Queer

That word stuck out to you, obviously. You knew she was gay, you could spot it off of her from a mile off, but to be accredited correctly, to be publicly praised by those parasite newspapers as a queer woman, it was admirable to say the least.

“You had your own clothing brand?” She asked suddenly, jolting you back into your reality.

“Uh yes, I did.”

“What happened to it?” She placed the paper down, removing her glasses simultaneously.

You shifted uncomfortably for a moment, the harsh memories of a failed business venture flooding in.

“It was my dream for a long time and it was working too,” your nose scrunched as you heard yourself refer to your baby as a thing of the past. It was never something you spoke about, and if you did, you always downplayed the hurt that came from it.

“Then, money got tight, I had to support my sickly mother which also meant less time spent working on my brand, eventually my partner that I’d built the brand with just couldn’t keep up with it on their own.”

There was a crisp silence afterwards, a silence you knew too well, a pity silence. You hated pity.

She read the name of your former brand, “five years with profit after the first year though,” she looked up at you from the page, “it’s more of a success story than you might expect.”

“You don’t need to be nice about it, I-“ you shook off,

“I’m not being nice, I’m being honest.” She interrupted you, like what you said was almost offensive.

Despite the cold delivery of it, you could hear the warmth that lingered beneath, and it made you smile.

“Y/n, I’m gonna be honest,”

You braced yourself for the worst,

“Besides your personal brand, you don’t have nearly enough experience or education for this role.”

There it was.

“But,” she accentuated, like she could see your heart breaking in real time, “I like you.”

Your brows still wound tightly together, you looked up at her with feigned curiosity.

“You have an energy I think I’ve been needing in this company, I like your confidence in your work, I also like how you’re not quick to praise yourself, even when you might deserve it.” You noticed the gap in her teeth for the first time as she flashed a crooked smile.

“Tell you what,” she moved to stand up, and for some reason you followed her lead again, “I’m gonna talk to some people, see what we can do for you,”

She stepped towards you, looking faithfully into her eyes as her hands easily found a post-it note and pen. She cupped your hand in hers as she placed both items into yours,

“Write down your number and email, and I’ll personally let you know what the decision is, okay?” She whispered, the close proximity and her hand still cupping yours making for a strangely intimate moment.

“Okay.” You barely got out as you began writing your details down, drawing a little heart on the corner of the note, “shit, force of habit, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, you did good, sweetheart, like I said you would.”

[abiiors]

chocolate // ross macdonald x reader

valentine's week - day 2: love potion

a/n: this is about abiior ross specifically hehe (short hair, shot beard etc) cw: use of aphrodisiacs against their knowledge (lets suspend our belief there), masturbation (f), implied voyeurism, unprotected sex oops (they're too horny to think it through) wc: 4k

sweet taste of chocolate dissolves on your tongue as elena continues to recount her latest holiday to belgium. she has that “just back from holiday” tan on her and you laugh along to her stories, popping another square of chocolate in your mouth while sorting through the pile of gifts she’s brought for everyone. 

a heap of chocolate wrappers sits between the two of you and you’re certain you have enough sugar in you to feed a small village—still, the sweetness lingers on your tongue and makes you sigh wistfully every time you think about it. 

“i’m seeing ross later,” you slip in quietly when she takes a breath between her rambling and elena’s eyes go round. 

“seeing him seeing him? you finally asked him out?”

your head hangs in shame at the question and you can’t help the wince that leaves you. elena tsks. “oh babe, come on! he’s such a sweet guy and he clearly likes you back.”

“you don’t know that!”

several seconds pass and elena arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow. she’s right, you know she’s right. you’ve had this silly, desparate crush for six months now and you should have done the mature adult thing of asking him out. but your heart races every time he’s near and every single word in your head disappears along with all sane and rational thoughts. 

“well,” you shrug, “can i take some chocolate for him? he’s got a sweet tooth.”

elena smirks and flicks your hand away before you can reach for one. 

“only if you promise to ask him out. a coffee date. that’s as casual as it gets!”

you blanch at her but she stands her ground forcing you to at least mull it over in your head. 

once again, she is right. you can ask him out for a coffee and pretend it’s just a friendly little thing if the vibes seem purely platonic. you’ll figure it out. you know you will. 

scrunching your eyes shut, you give in. “fine… fine, i’ll do it.”

elena squeals, pulling you into a tight hug. you giggle at her excitement but let the butterflies take flight in your stomach. once she lets go, she points behind her. 

“the fridge has a better selection. go take as many as you want.”

you’re out of the chair and halfway to the kitchen before she’s even done speaking, big goofy grin on your face at the thought of meeting him later and teasing him when he inhales the chocolates faster than humanly possible. 

the fridge is messy as usual—half empty bottles of milk, some past their expiry date, opened bags of cheese and old chinese takeout. you ignore all of it and dig your way to the back to find the rest of them (in elena’s little hidden space in the fridge to keep it away from her boyfriend). 

most of them are the usual ones and you take a few to put it in your bag. a new one catches your eye—it’s just a simple black square with a golden heart embossed on the cover, not one you’ve tried yet and it instantly piques your interest so you take two of them and put the bag back in its place. 

then you close the fridge and make your way back to the living room.

the backstage at the band’s practice show is chaos incarnate. everyone’s in a rush to set up things in their proper place. the props are strewn on the stage, waiting for their permanent place, the instruments are neatly arranged in a corner and ross is leaning against the wall, cigarette in one hand, phone in the other. his thumb scrolls on his screen. a second later, he snorts, types something on his phone and you feel yours buzzing in your pocket with an incoming text. 

it makes your silly heart skip a beat. 

his head snaps up when you clear your throat. a warm smile spreads across his face, and he quickly stubs out his cigarette, tossing it into a nearby bin. 

“didn't expect to see you here so bright and early," he says, pushing off the wall to approach you. at his full height, ross is nearly a head taller. on top of that, he’s been working out and staying fit, his beard’s sparser than it was before, his hair neatly cut and gelled back perfectly. 

ross looks devastatingly handsome, a proper rockstar. you look like… you. 

“wanted to see you–uh, see what you were getting up to,” you hope the breathlessness stays out of your voice, you hope he hasn’t noticed you blatantly checking him out. 

all that goes flying out the window the moment he gathers you into a hug. his body is warm and solid, his t-shirt soft and familiar. the scent of his aftershave surrounds you thoroughly, invades all your senses until you just debate throwing all caution to the wind and jumping him right here. 

the hug lasts longer than you would have expected. 

when he pulls back there’s a faint flush on his cheeks (probably the heating, you rationalise) and a wide grin on his face. 

“are you excited?”

“to watch you play? always!”

you cringe at how eager it sounds, how desperate. fortunately, ross giggles and offers you his arm. 

“come on, let me give you a tour.”

twenty minutes later, you’re back where you started, arm in arm and excited about the concept of the new show, about their new setlist and the live debuts of some new tracks. ross is already beaming with excitement and his eyes crinkle in they way they do only when he’s genuinely happy. it’s infectious. more often than not you find yourself staring at him and giving him a loopy smile. 

utterly fucking love-sick. 

“jamie’s gone all out too,” he continues. “there’s a whole dressing arena for us even though this isn’t a real show. we wanted to try out a couple styles i guess.”

“oh, you’re a fashion icon now?” you tease and he rolls his eyes fondly. 

“let me show you what patti’s got for us,” he offers and once again, you take his arm and follow him to some corner of the arena.

the dressing room is pretty much what you’d expected—a room full of mirrors and closet doors. there’s a sofa in the corner and bottles of water on the table. clothes are scattered across chairs and hanging on racks, each outfit carefully selected for the show, each outfit a statement aesthetic for every member on stage. 

and that’s pretty much it.

you plop onto the sofa. moments later ross does the same, slinging an arm around your shoulder that’s almost-a-cuddle-but-not-really. you desperately pray he can’t hear your hammering heart that’s almost in your throat now. he’s so cool and casual, so comfortable in the silence. you on the other hand, desperately feel the need to fill it. 

“elena’s back from her holiday. stole some chocolates from her stache for you.” 

his playful grin returns and ross straightens eagerly. “you really are a sweetheart.”

the word does funny things to your insides, almost like there’s an entire flock of birds going haywire in there until his hands comes to rest on your knee and every thought in your head goes quiet. 

“go on then, show us what you got.” 

one by one you pull them out—bonbons and candy and silly little heart-shaped sweets that were everywhere in preparation for valentine’s day. his face lights up like a kid at christmas, he unravels the nearest sweet, moaning at its sweetness dissolving on his tongue just like you had. 

you stare at him unabashedly. 

“i got this too,” you pull out the two black squares, handing him one. “dunno what they are but they looked fancy enough. i haven’t tried them yet though.”

together, you unwrap them and look at the dark square inside. they look nothing special, they smell like regular dark chocolate too. perhaps they’re a little richer than the ones before, slightly better but he shrugs and moves on to the next bonbon. 

you do the same.

if the arena was chaotic before, it’s damn near cocophonous now. somewhere, someone’s yelling for all the instruments to be moved. jamie and matty are in a heated discussion with a few other creative consultants. adam has his headphones in and he’s plucking something on the guitar. george is nowhere to be seen and ross is on stage making sure his bass is tuned just the way he wants it. 

you take the moment to stare at him while he’s busy. a stubborn strand of hair escapes onto his forehead, falling into his eyes while he focuses on the bass in his hands. his mouth is parted in concentration, eyebrows scrunched together with an adorable little crease in between. 

a quick thought flashes in your brain—what would it be like to walk up to him and straddle him right now? to set his bass aside and demand his attention in a way you’ve never even imagined before. to kiss away his frown until everyone and everything in the room fades away into the background. 

the butterflies in your stomach come back with a vengeance. ross shifts in his seat. 

“will you settle a debate for us, love?” matty’s voice startles you enough that you almost stumble back but he’s already passionately begun explaining the dilemma. 

you try to focus on him, you really do. usually, it’s fun to give your input on things, fun to listen to his everchanging and eccentric ideas as he tries to explain his vision in a cohesive way. but your attention can’t stop drifting to the man on stage. 

your eyes can’t seem to move away from his fingers as they pick string after string. 

heat simmers under your skin at the sight of them. interestingly enough, ross fidgets with the collar of his t-shirt and wipes a few beads of sweat off his forehead. 

“are you… listening?” matty snaps his fingers, his face contorted in a puzzled look while jamie looks on impatiently. 

“sorry, i—”

before you have the chance to finish again, they’re back at each other’s throats, bickering like an old married couple. you don’t even notice when they walk away and their voices peter out. you keep your eyes trained on ross and the hollow of his throat and his hands. subconsciously, you clench your thighs together.

what the fuck is wrong with you.

this isn’t the time or place to be horny. and yet the more strings he plucks, they more it reverberates through your entire body and makes your head spin with lust and heat. this is getting out of control and you cannot fucking figure out the reason behind it. 

hurriedly, you make your way back to the dressing room. it’s deserted by now—everyone including the band and the crew are by the stage. it’s your luck that the room isn’t locked, that not a single person seems to be in this part of the arena. 

you chest heaves as you slam the door shut, beelining to the sofa in a fucking daze. the chocolate wrappers from before sit innocently in the bin in the corner. you struggle with a bottle of water, gulping in down in hopes that it would cool you just a little. some of it spills down your top, the cotton sticks to your skin and the feel of it against your nipples feels overwhelming. electric, if you are being honest. 

curses spil from your lips as you throw yourself on the sofa, on the left side of it, where ross had sat before. your mind conjures up the scent of his aftershave again, the feel of his hand on your knee, and you imagine it trailing up—fingers testing and taunting until they’re at the waistband of your jeans. until they’re dipping inside your underwear and swiping through your slick folds. 

your breath catches and your hand drifts to the crotch of your jeans. 

maybe if you could just take the edge off a bit. maybe if you could just do this and then never think of it again and then go back to to your day and never look ross in the eye ever again. your cunt pulses in rhythm with your heartbeat, which is already racing faster than it should be.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think of him then. his body hovering on top of yours, pressing down on top of you until he sinks into you so deep that you feel him in your gut. you think of his lips, fucking perfect and so out of your leage. you think of the calloused pad of his fingers tracing your lip, your cupid’s bow. 

against your better judgment, you sink further into the sofa, running your hands on your breasts, stomach, the insides of your thighs, all the while imagining how ross’ calloused fingers felt on your back and waist the countless times you'd hugged before. how they would feel in other places.

it’s fucking depraved but the thrill of it feels so sinfully good that you can’t stop your fingers from tracing circles over your clit—languid and loose.

your fingers feels too small, too soft. this isn’t what your body wants. it desperately craves him but he’s busy doing his actual job. your ears ring with the bloodrush and every touch against your skin feels like a zap of electricity passing through you. 

one hand buried deep between your legs and the other kneading and massaging your nipples, you are on cloud nine. once or twice, you bite your lip to keep the moans down but what’s the point? the solid concrete walls would keep all the sounds inside anyway. 

your pants fill the room, sweat gathers on your forehead and you feel it drawing closer, some semblance of a release at least. through the haze you see ross standing by the door, still as a statue, his mouth slightly open.

“ross…” you moan softly, willing this hallucination to come closer, to replace your hands with his, and finish what you started, but he doesn’t move.

a second passed by and then another, and then as if you’ve been doused with cold water, your entire body goes numb and cold.

he’s here. he’s not a hallucination or a figment of your lust-filled imagination, he is really. fucking. here.

you go cold and then hot again, sure that your entire face—hell, your entire body—has gone beetroot red. helplessly, you scramble to get your hands away from you, as if that would salvage anything at this point. as if that would wipe his memory of the last five minutes. 

how did he even get here without you hearing so much as a creak? and you’d just moaned his name for fuck’s sake. the blood drains from your face, your heart stutters—this time for all the wrong reasons. 

‘ross…’ your voice sounds all high-pitched and thin. all wrong and panicked.

ross only stalks toward you, deliberately slow and graceful, and stops a few inches away from the sofa. too far, the pervy part of your brain chimes in, he’s still standing a bit too far away. his eyes look dark and stormy, his face utterly fucking calm.

you try to suppress the tremor in your limbs, try to look anywhere but at him. (ideally, you try to look for something sharp to stab yourself with) and it’s then that your body betrays your entirely. slowly, as if against your will, your eyes slide down his body and linger on the bulge in his trousers. hard and prominent and fucking big enough to make you salivate despite the current situation.

“what are you doing here?” the words comes out as a weak whisper. 

“watching you.”

his voice sounds deep and husky, with a dangerous edge to it. his eyes roam all over your body, or whatever’s visible of it—over your stomach and a sliver of underboob—and heat, more intense than you felt just minutes before, floods your entire body. 

and yet, you still can’t look him in the eye. 

“you are fucking stunning,” he breathes.

the words make your brain short-circuit. hastily, you try to cover your face, wishing for the earth to swallow you whole and spit you out into some parallel universe where ross just doesn’t exist anymore. 

“oh, baby,” he tuts, moving closer until you’re face-to-face, and even now it isn’t enough. inspite of your humiliation, you want him closer, on top of you, and under your skin, and inside you, pounding into you until you are dumb and drooling.

he hooks a finger under your chin, tilting it up so that you have no choice but to look him in the eye. your mouth goes dry at the sight of them. his pupils are dilated to the point where his hazel eyes are almost completely black.

“don’t–don’t hide from me… you have no idea how long, i…” the rest of it dies on his lips when you whimper. your body feels liquid, blood flowing through your veins like molten lava, searing every inch of skin that’s begging for his touch. 

“so touch me then,” the voice that comes out of you is pathetic, needy, but you can’t care less right now. if you had to stay in this state of limbo anymore the flimsy little thread holding the last of your sanity together would snap.

agonisingly slow, he pulls his t-shirt over his head. his chest gleams with sweat, tattoos starkly visible against his pale skin and you want to trace each and every one of them with your tongue, memorise all the grooves of his body with your fingers, fill up his scent into your lungs until it’s all you can smell. 

just in his trousers now, he settles over you, knee pressed between your wide-open legs, brushing against your clothed clit. you hiss at the barest of touches. ross looking down at you is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, enough that you moan his name again. and again when he kisses you, softly at first and then harder, urgent and feverish. 

his hands toy with the hem of your top and you nod fervently, eager to be rid of it. his tongue traces every inch of your mouth. 

“just how i imagined you would taste,” he breathes in between kisses, and the words spear through the haze in your brain, burrowing themselves deep in there.

“you thought about how i’d taste?” 

tenderly, he kisses your jaw, peppers a few more kisses on your cheek. “every moment of these last few months.”

you say something unintelligible, dumbstruck by how fucking sweet he sounds in the middle of everything. his hand trails up and down your spine, raising goosebumps in their wake, while his mouth continues to kiss your jaw, your neck, your cleavage. all you can do is tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him as close as you possibly can. unable to take it any longer, you fumble with the buckle of his belt, undoing the button and unzipping his trousers till you can palm him through his boxers. in spite of them still covering him, you moan at how big he feels, how deliciously thick and hard.

something in him snaps at the sound. it’s as if he’d been holding back until now, but now he grabs the hem of your top and slips it clean off you. his discarded trousers join the small heap on the floor and he takes one of your nipples in his mouth while pinching the other between his fingers.

“i need you inside me. please ross…”

“ride me,” he says instantly and you nod, flipping until he’s on the sofa and you’re on his lap, fumbling to get out of your jeans and underwear while he pulls his boxers down. 

with one hand around your waist, ross lifts you up until his tip’s grazing your cunt. “go on darling, you can take me,” his voice trembles with barely controlled restraint. and you might as well be his puppet because you obey instantly, sinking onto him until he’s deep inside you, until you feel the delicious stretch and burn.

your gasp makes him groan. 

his fingers grip your face gently, moving it to make you look at the giant mirrors next to you, at your bodies locked together. 

“look at you…” he moans and thrusts up into you. you mewl at the suddenness of it, but it’s impossible to look away from the image in the mirror. you bouncing on his cock, rutting and moving your hips, shamelessly chasing ecstasy. his face slack with pleasure, his eyes roaming all over your body, taking in every inch of it while you take in every inch of him. 

his thrusts are slow in the beginning, punishing almost and you try to increase the pace, digging your nails into his shoulders, until he’s smiling smugly at all the desperately written so clearly all over your face. 

“faster,” you almost beg and he obliges instantly, going deeper and deeper with each thrust. his fingers work at your clit again; pinching and rubbing, until you can no longer look at the mirror, can’t look at anything as your eyes roll back into your head and stars wink on the insides of your lids. 

filthy words fill the room mixed with groans and moans from both of you. it almost feels like a trance—to feel him so deep inside you that your head buzzes, pleasure coild in your belly and you squirm and writhe, trying to feel more of him, greedy and insatiable. 

heat builds in your stomach, the feeling from before starts at the base of your spine again, travelling up until it’s spreading throughout your body, to your fingertips. from the way ross’ thrusts turn wild and erratic, you know he’s close too. 

“you feel so good, so–so fucking perfect,” you tell him, trying to get the words out in between moans and gasps. 

“oh baby,” he coos, “we are fucking perfect together, aren’t we.”

frantically, you nod, capturing his mouth in another feverish hot kiss. “yes, yes.”

because that’s what you’ve been dying to hear for months now, dying to know that he felt the same want and yearning you did. 

when the orgasm finally hits, you almost black out, eyes rolling to the back of your head. your loud moans fill the room, overshadowing any sounds he makes, but you’re too far gone to care. the sound undoes him within moments and ross thrusts hard into you, cumming with a loud groan. you feel the cum spilling in you and running down your thighs, sticky and wet. 

vaguely, you’re aware if slumping forward and pressing your face into his chest. ross strokes your hair softly until you can get your breathing back to normal. 

you giggle in his chest when the conversation with elena springs back into your mind. it feels so far away now, like it happened days ago instead of hours ago. 

“what?” ross asks, sounding a bit amused. 

“i was supposed to ask you out for coffee. elena dared me, in exchange for the chocolate.”

he giggles at your answer, pressing a quick kiss on your head, which instantly makes your heart melt. 

“those chocolates were… something.”

you snort. that’s one way to put it. finally, you pull away, looking at him properly for the first time. his face is flushed and coated in sweat but he looks… happy. more than you’ve seen him before. 

“so… coffee?” you bite your lip, irrationally shy now of all times. 

ross kisses you in response, sweet and slow, a proper chaste kiss as if you’re not sat on his lap, still naked and dripping with his cum. but you kiss him back equally slow, giggling like a teenager. 

“like you have to ask.”

lemme know what you think <33

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[spaghettificationandpretzels]

First of all, CONGRATS on your follower milestone! 🥳💕

Second of all, could I request 11. "You butt-dialed me, and now we have some things to talk about." with Joe Velasco please? 🥰

~drabbles-mc 🖤

Masterlist

Squad Room Secrets

Contains: Fluff, Fin being a fed up old man.

1.1K words

“If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself.” -  George Orwell.

"I'm going over tonight to watch the fight with her. I don't know man, I don't know where to start or what to say or how to say it."

Fin huffed, "I don't know Velasco, may start with how you feel. It's pretty simple."

Joe sat down like the world was resting on his shoulders, "Yeah Fin, that's going to go down great, 'hey y/n, I'm deeply in love with you and every second my not with you feels like torture' she's going to run for the hills."

Fin sighed, "Maybe not, maybe, you need to give her more credit than that."

Joe shook his head, "Like I said, even if I was going to tell her, I would have no idea where to start."

It felt dirty to listen to their conversation when you realised he hadn't meant to call, but after you heard the first few words, there was no stopping. You hung up the phone before Joe could realise what had happened and sat strewing for hours, thinking about whether you should rip off the bandaid or wait until tonight.

In the end, you decided it was better to face it head on and just call him. The phone rang a few seconds before Joe's voice came across the line, "Hey y/n, are we still for tonight?"

You took a deep breath, "You bet we are, but you butt dialled me, and now we have some things to talk about."

There was a sharp inhale, "How much did you hear?"

He sounded so worried, "I hung up when Fin tried to get you to role play."

Joe sighed, "Is this the part where you let me down easy?"

A little part of your heart broke that he was so ready to be rejected, "Umm, no, it's not. Look, we're both grown ups, and I'm not in the mood to hear Fin say he told me so fifty million times. We're both a fault here, I was just as chickenshit as you."

You could hear the gears turning in his head, "Are you saying…?"

"Yes Jose, I am saying that. I love you, I have for quite a while and I was intent on stewing in my own misery until you finally saw it but I see now that you are far too noble to make assumptions. I really need to get back to it but we can talk more about this tonight." It felt good to get it off your chest.

"That's great, I'd love that." There was a pause, "I love you y/n."

You sighed, "I love you too Joe."

****

You jumped and raced to the door when Joe knocked, and his face broke out into a smile when his eyes met yours, "Hey."

You waved, "Hey, you wanna come in?"

He nodded and kicked off his shoes as he walked through the doorway, "So, where do we start?"

You opened your arms, "How about a hug, we already do that." It felt different this time as his warm body wrapped around yours, "It's nice not feeling like a total perv when you hug me."

His laugh reverted through your chest like the drum beat of a well loved song, "I'm glad I wasn't the only one."

You never wanted to leave the safety of his arms, "You wanna sit down? They're just about to play to preshow."

He nodded, "Sure, you wanna talk first? We've got ten minutes."

You pulled back and shrugged, "What's there to talk about? Nothing's changed, not really. We're still going to do all the things we did before, it's just that we've added things and you can finally give up online dating."

He chuckled, "You're right. What did you cook?"

"I figured I had some making up to do, so I made your favourite." You pointed towards the oven, "And Creme Burlee."

He closed to distance again and took your face in his hands, "Can I kiss you?"

You nodded, "Oh yes please." His lips didn't find yours right away, instead, he stroked your cheek with his thumb as he slowly closed the distance. You were surprised that when your lips finally touched, there was no burst of fireworks, rather, it was quiet, like you and Joe were the only two beings in the universe.

There was a buzz in the air that you swore was coming from your own ears but Joe pulled back with a disappointed sigh, "Food's done."

The world returned in sharp focus, "That it is. I'll get it ready if you put on the fight."

He nodded, "Sure. I enjoyed that."

"Yeah, me too."

****

"How is Fin going to get you back for being right?" You knew he would want something, he wasn't going to let it go with grace.

Joe snorted, "He said he's going to remind me about this until he retires."

You did your best to stop yourself from laughing, "Oh boy, you're going to be hearing about this for years."

Joe threw his arm over your shoulder and you turned your attention back to the TV as the fight continued. You flinched when a fist hit a face and Joe chuckled when your hand landed on his thigh, "You good there?"

You blinked and went to move but Joe placed his hand on yours, "Yeah, I'm good." He laced his fingers in yours, chuckling as you clenched it with every hit, "You're not normally like this, you love it most of the time."

You shrugged, "He looks like he's twelve. Plus, this ref isn't very good."

"We should go to a fight one day, on a date." There was a confidence in Joe you hadn't seen before and his smile had a certain charm.

"You don't need to convince me. Does this count as a date?" You were unsure, it didn't feel like a proper first date.

Joe shook his head, "No, this isn't a date, at least not a first date. We gotta go to dinner for that."

You nodded, "Ok, well do you want to go to dinner with me?"

Joe smiled, "Yes, I would like to go to dinner with you."

"So what does this count as?" You thought for a moment, "A get together?"

"Nah, we're just spending time together. You should get used to it, you're my girlfriend I'm going to want to spend a lot of time with you." He was definitely turning on the charm.

"I'd hope so, boyfriend." You paused, "That doesn't sound right, we're not twelve. Lovers?"

Joe suppressed a smirk, "Not yet. Significant other sounds nice."

You nodded, "Yeah it does. Which brings me to my next point, maybe you should stay the night and we can get coffee in the morning? Nothing has to happen, I just wanna make up for all the cuddling we've missed."

Joe smiled and moved closer before brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, 'I'd really like that."

Fin

@mysoulisasunflower

[katebishopofearth]

in the cracks of night (your light finds me hiding in the dark) [an ironwidow fanfic]

Fandom: Marvel Pairing: ironwidow Characters: Natasha | Tony Rating: T Other tags: panic attack | hurt/comfort | Natasha Romanov needs a hug

in the cracks of night (your light finds me hiding in the dark)

Heart pulsating. Stomach churning. Throat tightening. Panting for breath but there’s no air, no air, no air. Natasha wakes up in Tony’s bed shaking, gut-deep terror and nausea rising like the tide and drowning her from the inside. She tries to get up but the blanket twists around her like a shroud, and she flails wildly to be free of it, only narrowly avoiding hitting her boyfriend’s sleeping form. Not out of concern for waking him – her terrified brain isn’t capable of that kind of rational motive right now – it’s a survival instinct. She’s driven only by the need to go somewhere and keep quiet. Fall apart where no one can see or hear.

She’s acting, not thinking, as she stumbles across Tony’s bedroom and towards the en-suite bathroom. Driven by nausea and the fear of throwing up. Better the bathroom than the bedroom. Shoves the door open. Automatic lights flood the room and it’s too much, it drives her into sensory overload. Her bare feet step onto carpet, not tiles. The small conscious part of her brain registers this isn’t the bathroom but she doesn’t care, crawls into the walk-in closet on hands and knees until she finds the back corner where the darkness is thickest, and buries herself in the shadows between Tony’s winter coats and sweaters.

Curls up as small as she can in the dim space. Knees tucked under her chin, arms wrapped tight around her shins as she shudders. Eyes squeezed shut, jaw clenched tight. Digs her nails into her biceps as hard as she can, the pain the only thing keeping her in the physical world. Her heart pounds against her thighs, a juddering, erratic rhythm going too fast, like it’s trying to batter its way out of her chest. The woollen dark is punctuated only by sharp, hot gasps that deliver little oxygen to lungs that have forgotten how to expand.

She has no concept of time passing, but she knows that she’s already spent too long trying and failing to compose herself. So long that the lights have turned off and she’s truly engulfed in the dark. But she can’t make herself get up. Not without shaking or throwing up or passing out. It’s been months since she’s had one this bad, she thought she was out of the woods. That her damage has been fixed enough so Tony never has to find out. That she was safe. But she’s not, the terror always rises within her no matter how long it’s been, and here she is, having a full-blown panic attack in her new boyfriend’s closet.

The door slides open and light penetrates her dark corner. She slaps her palm against her mouth, her entire body trembling, eyes squeezing shut so tightly that a drop of moisture gathers at the tip. She has to keep quiet keep quiet can’t let him know she’s here or she’ll –

“Tasha?” Tony’s voice is groggy. Confused. “You in here?”

His proximity physically hurts. She can’t completely stifle the choked sound that rips its way out of her throat, from the part of her that wants to be held, even more than she fears being seen. The sound punctures the silence of the closet.

His feet shuffle closer. “I’m coming in there. Don’t shoot me, okay?” Rustling as he rifles through the closet. Her eyes are still closed, she can’t make herself open them as she waits like a prisoner for execution. Then shuffling, the sound of someone – not someone, Tony, her boyfriend of two months – crawling on his hands and knees to reach her.

“Natasha.” The way he whispers her name is a prayer of shock, not disgust. Humiliation rises with her nausea and fills her lungs.

A deep inhale and exhale – not hers, her nose and throat and lungs are incapable of the simple act. “Honey, can I touch you?”

She can’t speak, her throat and tongue and vocal cords aren’t cooperating, but she wants – and she loathes herself for wanting – him to gather her into his arms and let her break down in them.

[keep reading on AO3]

[seas-of-silver]

Adrien had definitely expected a lot of new experiences when he started working at Tom and Sabine's bakery, but accidentally setting the bakery on fire was not one of them.

Adrien had definitely expected a lot of new experiences when he started working at Tom and Sabine's bakery, but accidentally setting the bakery on fire was not one of them.

In the wake of his career as a teen model ending - a decision he was all too happy he made - Adrien quickly realised that he was free to do whatever he liked... problem was, he had no idea what interested him. Sure, fencing was fun, piano was enjoyable when he wasn't forced to perfect pieces that no one would hear, and being a superhero was grand, but... that was it. He wasn't an elite fencer like Kagami. He didn't have aspirations to make music his whole world like Luka. He couldn't be a superhero full-time, or he supposed he could, but he knew how isolating a life like that could potentially be - especially with all the identity rules and secrecy. So, Adrien was stumped.

His lack of direction left him feeling melancholy, and on one such day when his mood had taken a plunge, he ambled over to Marinette's. Marinette was an amazing friend, who somehow always managed to cheer him up, as though she was his personal lucky charm.

He entered through the bakery door and was greeted by the heavenly aroma of baked goods. He took a deep breath, inhaling the inviting aroma, relishing in the way it felt like a warm hug welcoming him home. Mrs Cheng, from behind the counter, smiled and greeted him kindly before calling out for Marinette. Marinette burst out from the room behind the bakery in a chaotic rush, flour dusting her forehead and apron, the latter also decorated with smears of coloured icing.

'Adrien!' she said, surprised, before smiling at him. 'H-how are you? Are you getting some pastries?'

It was mind-blowing how a simple greeting instantly made him feel better. He returned her smile.

'Hey Marinette, I was just wondering if I could talk to you, but you seem busy, so-'

'Not at all! I mean, we're going to be quiet until the lunch rush hour hits, so we can talk!' Marinette reassured. 'Maman-'

'Go on, dear, your father and I can hold down the fort,' Mrs Cheng said.

They hadn't made it beyond the bakery kitchen. As Marinette was leading him through the kitchen towards the staircase leading to the family home, Adrien halted. His gaze had been caught by the tray of gorgeous looking cinnamon scrolls Mr Dupain was glazing. He couldn't help but ask Marinette and her father some questions about the pastries, which led to an impromptu baking lesson, which led to him helping out until they shut for the day, which led him being invited to dinner as a "thank you", and only then did Adrien finally have his conversation with Marinette.

'I just feel so lost,' he told her. 'I've always been told what to do, having everything dictated by others that now that I've got this freedom, I'm just... drifting aimlessly.'

'Why not just try new things?' Marinette suggested. 'Don't put pressure on yourself to commit, or to be the very best at it, but take the time to explore things that you like, that your interested in, and if it works out, then great! If not, then that's okay, just move on to the next thing.'

Her words made him feel calm, and her proposed plan sounded simple, achievable. But he was at a loss for where to start, and told her as much.

'How about baking?' she asked. 'You did amazing today, and you looked like you were really enjoying it. Plus, Papa was telling me that you took to it like a natural!'

He had enjoyed himself, though he wondered whether it was the baking itself or the bakers he was surrounded by. After some more discussion with Marinette and her parents, he was brought on as an apprentice.

Being a baker wasn't an easy feat, but he did like a challenge. The first time he helped unload a delivery of flour made his admiration for a baker's strength grow immensely - he struggled with the big, heavy sack that threatened to make his knees buckle and elbows give way, causing Marinette to rush over and scoop the bag effortlessly out of his arms with a gentle smile and walk it inside the bakery, calling out a promise to help him with the next bag; his knees did buckle after that. He made mistakes time and time again, but instead of being berated, he was kindly taught what should have happened instead. He had many baking sessions with Tom (as he was told to call him) and Marinette, and occasionally Sabine tutored him in cooking meals.

It was hard work, but it was rewarding. Even Nathalie had commented on how happy he seemed lately. It also helped that he was growing closer with Marinette, their friendship improving with every visit to the bakery.

He had been working at the bakery for about a month when he went in for his Saturday shift. He had been filled with an excited, nervous energy since he had woken up, eager to get the bakery as soon as possible - he had decided today was the day he'd ask Marinette on a date, and he was anxious for her answer. It was only when he arrived that he remembered she said she would be spending the day working on her design for the competition his father had just announced that week. His spirits dampened slightly, but resolved to ask her after his shift - he could hold out for a few hours.

He had just finished making a loaf of sourdough, and was prepping it for the oven when he heard his name.

'Adrien?' Marinette's head was poking through the doorframe, cutely hiding the rest of herself behind the wall. 'Are you busy?'

'Uh, no,' he answered, pausing in his prep to give her his full attention. 'What's up?'

'I was just wondering if you could give me some feedback on my design for your father's competition,' she said. 'I need to know what you think of it so I can figure out how well it meets the criteria.'

'Sure!' he agreed with a smile. Marinette's designs were always awe-inspiring, and he was eager to see what she had created this time.

'Okay! Let me just grab this real quick!' She ducked behind the wall, and Adrien moved speedily. He quickly ripped a sheet of paper off its roll to cover the metal tray, dumped the loaf on it and shoved it into the oven, closed the oven door, washed his hands and rapidly turned to face her. She emerged from the doorway, and Adrien's breath hitched.

She was in a Grecian-style dress of a pretty pale pink. The fabric was being held at the shoulders by lovely floral clips, her hair was beautifully done in a decorative up-do, and while the design was simple, she looked ethereal.

'Marinette, you look- you're a goddess,' he said, all the strength gone from his voice, so the words came out in breathy tones. Her cheeks became as pink as her dress as she looked down, smiling shyly.

'Th-thanks, Adrien,' she stammered, before meeting his gaze again with a sparkle in her eyes. 'In fact, "goddess" is exactly what I was looking for! The theme of the competition is to connect the past to the present, and so I took inspiration from the Ancient Greek goddess, Thesis - the goddess of creation. And even though the Miraculous are rumoured to be ancient, they are a massive part of Modern Paris and current events. And considering Ladybug's powers are that of creation- uh, according to Alya! Um, so I thought I'd combine Thesis and Ladybug and create an outfit based on the powers of creation!'

He was blown away by her ingenuity. His heart fluttered.

'That's amazing, Marinette!' he exclaimed. 'So is this the final product?'

'Not even close!' she responded excitedly. 'This is a peplos - an Ancient Greek style dress, and typically the material was patterned and colourful, so I'm debating between hand-painting or embroidering floral and ladybug motifs onto the fabric to further the references to Thesis and Ladybug. And these clips here are prototypes I've made, and I'm tossing up whether to keep these or make new-'

Marinette cut herself off, eyes wide before yelping, 'Adrien! The oven!'

Adrien turned around to see an inferno blazing inside the oven. He made some kind of panicked noise before rushing to the oven door, opening it- only for Marinette's hands to push the door closed again.

'Don't!' she cried.

'But the oven's on fire!' he squeaked, trying to open it despite her efforts otherwise. 'We have to do something! We have to put it out!'

'We can't open it!' she retorted. 'Keep it closed and it'll run out of oxygen and die out. Open it, and everything burns down.'

Adrien froze, still gripping the oven door handle, but not making a move to open it. Marinette was right. It was simple science - remove one of the three components a fire needs, and the fire will stop.

'I heard a commotion, everything alright?'

As Adrien turned to Tom, who had just entered the kitchen, he accidentally pulled the door open with him, and flames jumped out of the opening. He hastily shut the door again and rapidly backed away from the oven, not willing to repeat his mistake.

'I just put the sourdough in the oven and I was just- I only looked away for a moment! And suddenly it was on fire-' Adrien babbled, flustered and overwhelmed as the reality of what could have happened sunk in.

Tom's gaze shifted between him, Marinette and the oven, and after a moment, he gave Adrien a soft smile.

'No harm, no foul, but let's be more careful next time, okay?' Tom said calmly, and Adrien nodded stiffly. The man approached the oven and peered through the door at the flaming mess inside.

'What paper did you use on the tray, son?' he asked, and Adrien's mind drew a blank.

'Uh... I can't remember, sir, I... got distracted,' Adrien admitted, helplessly glancing quickly at Marinette. Tom followed his glance, and his smile grew wider.

'I see,' he commented, seemingly amused. 'Well, I reckon you used the wax paper instead of the baking parchment - wax paper, while useful, isn't good with heat, so it never goes into the oven. Baking parchment is far more suited to heat, and while it may brown at times, it won't go up in flames. Understand?'

Adrien nodded numbly. 'What about the sourdough?' he asked weakly.

'An unfortunate victim of learning,' Tom answered with a shrug. 'Make sure its sacrifice wasn't in vain by remembering this lesson, alright?'

'Yes, sir,' Adrien replied, abashed.

'I thought we broke that habit, son,' the man chuckled. 'It's Tom, remember?'

'Yes, sorry, Tom,' replied Adrien, the light tease bringing a small smile to his face.

'Much better.' Tom then turned to Marinette. 'Now, cupcake, I know you were excited, but save distracting Adrien until shift is over, hmm? I need his eyes in his head and jaw off the floor while he's in the bakery, okay?'

Marinette's face bloomed into a bright pink in embarrassed confusion as Adrien groaned and buried his face in his hands. He almost burned down her family's bakery because he was completely and utterly distracted by her like the romantic fool he was, and now Tom and possibly Marinette knew the real cause of the whole kerfuffle. How was he supposed to ask her out now?

~/~

Ask game: Give me the first sentence and I'll write a short piece for it!

[sanjisblackasswife]

Hiiii your a great writer and can I please have a hug from luffy? I really need one tatey ❤️

Even though…my requests are closed…u called me Tatey and I thought that was very cute. So yes.

“Hug Me!” Luffy x Fem Reader (FLUFF)

“Where’s y/n?”

“Where’s y/n?!”

“Y/N!?”

He searched and search, checking every barrel, every cabinet, every closet, but you were no where to be found.

“Y/N!” Luffy’s Whiney voice began to come out ringing in everybody in ear shot to be a victim of hearing. He only got like this when he was frustrated. His flip flops pattered all through the huge ship looking for you.

He wanted to see you for something.

Luffy felt a bit

Off.

He wasn’t happy, but he wasn’t sad or angry he just felt a bit not himself today

This has happened before and you helped him with a simple solution and now he believes you and only you can do it again.

He tried Nami. Didn’t work got slapped.

He tried Robin. It helped for a second, but it wasn’t the same.

He needed you’s specifically for this, but you were no where to be found?!

“Namiiiii did we accidentally throw y/n overboard?”

“No! Of course not! She’s probably in her room? She said she was feeling a bit tired today.”

He slaps his head, OF COURSE YOU’RE IN YOUR ROOM!

He rushes out the kitchen, scurring with his hand on his hat merely in giggles at the thought of you.

“Y/N!” His eyes lit up, there you were. Laying on your tummy drawing. Your face was a bit startled seeing as you were interrupted from the peace and quiet you’ve already adjusted to for the pst hour. Luffy snickers quick to walk to you, put his hat on your head and laid his body on your back like a blanket. “I was looking for you!”

“Luffy…” You groaned slowly moving your lower half side to side to wiggle him off, but that only signaled him to squeeze harder. “Ah! I told you I wanted to be in my room today.”

“Well I need help!” Luffy got from on top of you and dragged you by your arm to sit up, you couldn’t get mad entirely his smile was so contagious you caught yourself smirking.

You raise your eyesbrows to see what exactly he needs help with and he just extends his string like arms and wraps them around your entire body closing you in now chest to chest with your Captain.

It wasn’t too tight, but it still managed to knock the wind out of you, your face now in his neck inhaling his natural sweaty/musky/rubbery scent. His nape tickling your nose because his hair is still unkept and growing even faster.

Luffy rocked you back and fourth lightly humming, just what he needed! He felt warm and happy again!

You look up from his chest and he looks down back at you and you both smile and laugh. Of course…

“Luffy you just wanted a hug?”

“Yeah! You give the best ones.”

“Well let me hug you correctly, Lu.”

He nods and released you from his grasp, arms now regular length but open wide similar to his smile, exposing his small dimples you found so cute when he smiled that hard—waiting for it.

“Okay! Hug me!” Luffy laughed, and You smile, you get up from the bed, you were a bit taller than him so your arms wrapped around his neck and you gave him the best bear hug you could, swinging him back as you both hummed in unison, even finishing it with a tiny peck on the cheek making them just a very faint pink at the soft touch of your lips.

“Thank you, Y/N I feel better now!”

He pecks your cheek back so quickly you almost didn’t notice it before he fixes his hat back on your head.

Luffy was a simple man and you were a simple woman. And sometimes little things like hugs from you was all he needed to feel better.

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 112. brb x oc

a/n: hey yo. I'm not the greatest still but I couldn't help myself...idk what it says about me when I feel like I write better when im sad. l ol

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none. ROOSTER IS THE BEST HUSBAND

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

50/51/52/53/54/55/56/57/58/59/60/61/62/63/64/65/66/67/68/69/70/71/72/73/74/75/76/77/78/79/80/81/82/83/84/85/86/87/88

/89/90/91/92/93/94/95/96/97/98/99/100/101/102/103/104/105

/106/107/108/109/110/111

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @kulicny @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @dhwanishah09 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl @mygyn @chavivaelisheva

-

She turned in front of the mirror so many times it gave her whiplash. Since tonight she came home early from the bar, it gave her enough time to get ready and dress up in a way it’d be…good for the event.

Nicole was with her parents already, their little girl was so used to this that she just hugged her mother and waved at them. Meanwhile Beatrice had to be dragged by Rooster back into the car, feeling like she was ready to cry because she’d never see her daughter.

Again, overreacting.

Now she was kneeling in front of their sink, her makeup all thrown over the marble and the dress she wore pulled up to her upper thighs. Her head was being held by her hands and she didn’t know what she could do, because she feared this wasn’t good enough. The dress, obviously was, but the makeup? It wasn’t that fancy, the dress was a light pink peasant sleeve dress with details in gold in the seams.

It was simple but it was obviously Marcus’ style. Beatrice inhales, fixing her low braid every now and again, only to flap her hands because she couldn’t tug on it any longer, “Damn it, okay,okay.” she breathes out, standing to her feet and patting her knees, only to pace around in the bathroom, “I’m okay, everything is okay. I’m okay!”

“Bea?”

“I’m okay!”

The sudden yelp leaves her husband silent for a few seconds, possibly because of shock, but she hears his voice again after a few seconds, “Baby…I just wanted to check on you…are you sure you are okay?”

“I…yes.--no.I’m so nervous.”

“Are you dressed?”

“Just need to put on my shoes…Rooster.I-I’m scared.”

She hears him shuffling outside, getting closer to the door and gently parting it just enough for his voice to come clearer, “Can I come in?” she hums positively, stepping back to give him enough room once he got inside. Bradley opened the door fully, his eyes immediately dragging down her body, appreciating how that fabric hugged her curves and stopped a few inches above her knees.

He licks his lips, still holding onto the door handle, mainly to keep himself upright, “...damn.”

“Roos.”

“I’m sorry gorgeous,I’m…” he drops his gaze again, “Admiring…fuck you look so good.”

“I do?”

He just gives her a confused look, snorting a laugh, ‘Hell yeah, you do.” he gets closer after shutting the door, still dragging his eyes up and down her body, “Give me a full view.” and he spins his index finger, the request is enough to make her laugh a bit, complying after a few seconds. She’s…very nervous, and clutching her hands together, she looks absolutely stunning but clearly felt out of her own space.

Beatrice chews her lower lip, gesturing to her face, “And my makeup?”

‘It’s perfect.”

‘Is it too much?”

“No, course not.” he smiles,gently brushing his thumb over the light blush on her cheeks. This one was artificial but it worked just as well as her actual one, “You look beautiful. You always look beautiful.”

Beatrice’s eyebrows lowered and her smile widened, the little spark of courage shining in her eyes after he said that was enough to make him lean down and kiss her forehead, “You look like a fairy.” she laughs softly, the sound light and almost relieved, “Listen…I know neither of us are part of shit like this, we aren’t high society…but you worked with Marcus, he invited us. He wants us there.”

“I know…”

Rooster takes hold of her small hands and brings them to his lips, kissing her knuckles, “Gorgeous, come on.” he shakes her hands a bit to get a response out of her, ‘You know you can do this.” she drops her gaze to the ground, chewing the inside of her lip, “You did it before, you had your face on a billboard. In the middle of the street…for four months.”

She gives him a small side smile, “I appreciate your support,Roos…it really…I…I just get so nervous with social stuff like this. I’m used to the bar, hell even the reunion was bad but I managed it…but this? I’ll see famous brand designers from all around the world and what am I going to do?”

“You’ll be there,” he drops her hands only to place his on the flare of her hips, ‘With me,” he brings her closer, “Looking absolutely beautiful, making everyone wonder how the hell is someone like you real…and I’ll be there holding your hand, your waist or your ass if you need any more support.” that sneaks a chortle out of her, one she tries to hide by pressing her face to his chest, “You’ll do so great,gorgeous.”

Beatrice peeks at him through her lashes, chewing the side of her mouth for a few seconds before inhaling shakily, for courage, “Yeah, you are right…it’ll be great.”

“It will.”

“...just…if I feel too overwhelmed-”

“We’ll get out of there before anyone notices us.”

Beatrice’s smile softened over his response, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his lips, ‘Thank you.” she says, running her hands down the fabric of his shirt - he looked so good in dark blue it should be illegal. Marcus knew that too, or else why would he send Rooster this outfit? -  “I’m going to put my shoes on and then we can go.”

He stays there for a few more minutes, then kisses the top of her head, “Okay.” he whispers, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Beatrice slowly breaks free of the hold he had on her hand, dropping her own to her side when Rooster leaves the bathroom. She stood there, one hand on top of her heart and a thankful smile on her face…sometimes she wondered if he ever imagined he’d join a fashion launch when he was younger.

Or even when he was older.

His line of work was so specific after all.

But Beatrice didn’t have time to think about that now, she was already anxious, the last thing she needed was worry even more, adding his own thoughts to the mix. She quickly slip on the beige high heel sandals she had, wincing when the strap slapped against the back of her ankle in her hurry.

She walks out to see him sitting on the bed, hands clasped between his legs and his smile widening when he saw her, “Ready?” she only nodded in silence, grabbing her clutch and shuffling over to him, immediately grabbing his hand, “You’ll be okay.”

“Hrrm!” was her disgruntled response, “I don’t feel like throwing up yet, so that’s good. The nerves could be calming down.”

“It’ll be fine…do you know where this will be?”

“At Marcus’ house, it’s…on the hills.” she mutters, “You know, the place where neither of us would ever dream of stepping on.”

“Until now.”

He was doing a great job in pushing her pessimistic thoughts aside, Bea could even think clearer with him speaking to her. She hoped it’d stay during the night, “Yeah…until now.” she lets him lead her down the stairs, the dogs circling them as they walked to the front door, Beatrice could just barely pet them before they left, her hand felt…sweaty and gross, almost felt wrong to give their dogs parting caresses.

She flexes her fingers with a grunt,”I’m sweating like a sinner in church.”

Rooster looks down at her hand, seeing that she pulled out some hand wipes from inside her clutch to rub them almost obsessively. The sound of the moist tissue rubbing against her skin was a repetitive squeak that she didn’t seem to notice.

Rooster just watched, his hands on his hips and head partially tilted, hoping that she’d notice his eyes on her and finally remember that everything was going to be okay. Beatrice does so, slowly, her hand wet because of the lavender scented wipes, eyes wide and worried much like before, “Sorry.” she says sheepishly, quickly tossing the used wipes in their trash can, “I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm…I better get in the car before I chicken out,Roos.”

He opens the passenger door for her, smiling sweetly because even when she’s nervous she’s the cutest being on this planet, almost sinking into the seat and keeping her knees up to her chest, sandals abandoned on the floor as she hugs her legs. 

As soon as he enters himself, he gives her one last look as he turns the car on. She’s still hugging her legs, still looking worried and she has a little pout that only appears cuter because of the red lip tint on her lips, “Baby.” he calls once, gently plucking one of her hands from her legs, “You’ll do great. You’ll be great.” she barely nods at him and he knows she’s mentally preparing herself for whatever it was that the night was going to bring.

He wasn’t upset by her silence, because he did see the smallest lift of her lips when she heard his voice, so he just kissed the back of her knuckles and kept her free hand interlaced with his, driving one handed to the address that Marcus gave them.

He had to admit it was quite a distance from their house, in fact from…a lot of places they knew. They neared a part of San Diego that smelled rich, it looked rich and well, it was pretty rich.

“This is the place where the Oda clientele live.” Beatrice tries to joke as soon as they are allowed to enter the gated community after the guy in front let them pass. Rooster chuckled softly, agreeing with her and both tried to contain their surprised stares when they rolled inside…because those houses were huge.

Beatrice leans closer to his shoulder when they drive past another one, “I think Meryl Streep owns this house.”

“Wouldn’t she live in LA?”

“I mean,I heard she had several properties…even in New York.” she muttered, propping her chin on his shoulder, “Do you think any of the Kardashians will be at this launch?”

“Maybe.” he says, “Does Marcus even like them?”

“...I don’t know,maybe.”

Rooster smiles back at her, gently rubbing the pad of his thumb on her jawline, “You’ll be okay.”

Beatrice makes a little noise on his shoulder, but her smile widens and he feels her thumb gently brushing against his knuckles. She nods, but then slowly lifts her head when she sees the immense line of cars leading up to a dark colored house with thick coconut trees surrounding it. She could see Hangman’s car, so that meant Evelyn was there too…and she also felt a shiver dart up her spine.

“Oh God…this is happening.” she whispers, “This is really happening,Roos.”

“It is gorgeous.”

"There 's no…turning back.”

Rooster feels her body straight as a rod against her seat, her eyes wide and brows furrowed as she quickly slips the sandals back on, “Baby.” she isn’t listening to him, she’s back in her focused state and he could only chuckle quietly as he rolls to a park, not so far from the entrance. He waits a bit with his hands on his thighs for Beatrice to say something, his wife instead lifts her hands in front of her body and he could see the slight tremble.

“...I’m shaking.’ she says, clenching her hands into fists, curling into herself on the seat, her forehead touching her knees and hair covering her face, “I feel like I’m going to throw up.” his large warm hand touches the bare part of her back, rubbing it in soothing circles and dragging his fingers up and down her spine, “Rooster….Is there anyone outside?”

Rooster tilts his head to the entrance, “A few, mainly security.” he mutters, “No one famous that I know of.”

‘Do you think we can get out?”

“I think so…do you feel ready to?”

She lifts her torso to give him a worried look, “I don’t think I have a choice anymore.” and she laughs nervously, her smile immediately disappearing into a blank look, “What am I doing?” she groans, sinking even more, almost hiding herself into the seat, her hands on her temples, “Jesus Christ,Rooster. What am I doing? I-I…this…I don’t–”

“Baby, baby listen.” he holds her hands,kissing her knuckles, “You are about to hyperventilate. It’s okay,I’m with you. We’ll go in there, keep to ourselves and leave if you feel too overwhelmed.” her lower lip wobbles a bit, “Hey, baby, pretty girl. Look at me.” he has to cup her chin to physically turn her head towards his, “You’ll be okay.”

“This isn’t my world, Roos.” she whispers, “I don’t know if I should be here.”

Her self doubt was screaming and he could see it. He was sure that she’s been triggered ever since early morning but now it was getting too hard to handle, “Baby, you deserve to be here…hell, you worked with Marcus, he likes you and is so thankful for you.” he sees her eyes flick to a group of skinny women walking past the car, their dresses beautiful and flowing with the wind, “...you are gorgeous, you are beautiful and you are deserving to be here.”

Beatrice looked so scared she couldn’t even reply, she just held her hands tight, knuckles going white with how strong her grip was, “I…” she looked back at the people, then towards Rooster, “I…okay…”

“Okay?” she nods quietly, not humming nor saying anything, mostly because she felt ready to cry at any second. He kisses her hand, then her forehead, keeping his lips there for a few seconds just so she could relax before he walks out of the car to open the door for her. He waits for Beatrice to take his hand, she hesitates, looking from him to the house then back at him, “You can do it.” he whispers, spreading his fingers as his hand got closer to her face, “You can do it, gorgeous. You did it this far.”

Beatrice chews her lower lip, eventually dropping her shaking hand to his and letting him pull her up. She tries to not bury herself into his chest when he does so, choosing to stay partially behind him with her eyes squinting because of the wind as he locks the door.

My my my, what are you doing here?

Oh no.

Wrong party, wrong place, wrong time. What do you think? That you are special?

She tries to ignore the goblin voice by rubbing her arms, creating an invisible shield around herself only to see more skinny models making their way to the house.

If you hurry, you can run off. No one will miss you, maybe not even Rooster.

She clenches her eyes, bouncing on the spot for a few seconds with her heels clicking on the ground. She then leans forward a bit, holding herself up by placing her hands on her thighs, smell the flower, blow the candle. Rooster stays in front of her, looking around like the watchful husband he was, glaring at anyone who seemed to stare at his wife for too long. His hand returns to her upper back, gently rubbing the skin “Come on,gorgeous.” he whispers, the cold of his wedding ring soothing her nervous and hot skin, “You can do it, just for a little while.”

“J-Just for a little while.”

He hated seeing her like this, but he was serious. They’d stay a little while, hell,even less if she got worse, “Yeah,gorgeous. Just for a little while. Can you do that?” Beatrice nods, slowly standing straight and sniffling a bit. She teared up just enough to form tiny splotches of eyeliner on the corner of her eyes, he wasted no time in gently wiping it away, “There you go, fucking beautiful.” she gave him a weak smile, “Okay…hold onto me.” she already clasped his hand, “Give me the invitations, you won’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

He knew she was too anxious to talk to anyone now, so she just opened her clutch to pull the light green papers out, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,gorgeous.” she laughs softly when he says that, waiting for him to close the door and dropping the hand from hers towards her waist, bringing her closer to his side as they walk up to the entrance of that enormous house. It was beautiful, with several plants around the front, four large security guards that just looked around ominously to everyone that walked in, a teal colored light illuminated the inside.

Amazingly neither of them could hear anything from the inside, no music, no voices, just a subtle vibration of what could only be assumed was a beat. Beatrice looked at the ‘WELCOME’ mat below her feet as Rooster talked to the security guards outside, choosing to focus on how the letters curved up instead of anything else.

As the doors opened however, they were faced with a long illuminated hallway and the vibration only getting louder, with the distant echo of a song being played. Beatrice looked around the hallway, following the trail of lights that disappeared behind dark doors, doors that had doorhandles with golden ‘MB’ engraved into it.

Before either of them could open it however, they parted automatically and they were hit the music. It wasn’t that loud that’d break their eardrums but it was enough to vibrate on the floor. Beatrice however, stood still once she noticed the amount of people in there, her fingers digging in her clutch so hard she could hear the fake leather creaking, “Hrn..” was her disgruntled noise, shuffling almost behind Rooster, “T-There’s a lot of people.”

There wasn’t, but in her mind, it was enough.

“A few.” Rooster said, hugging her close to his side, his eyes moving around a bit until he noticed two people in the crowd, “I see Evelyn and Jake.”

She perked up, “Really?”

‘Yeah…think you can go there?” 

Beatrice looked over to where he gestured and nodded silently, “Yes,I think so.” she whispers, “I don’t see Marcus anywhere.”

“He’s probably mingling, it is his launch party after all.” Rooster comments, slowly walking forward with Beatrice glued to him.

Run, you should run. Before the doors close. Can you run that fast? Of course not, you’ll mess up Beatrice. You know you will.

She hated that this stupid voice returned now, right now when she was trying her best to get better. All it needed was a bigger social gathering than her reunion to make itself known again.

Run,run,run, that’s all you can do…that is, if you could do it.

“Shut up.”

“Huh?”

Beatrice’s head snap up towards Rooster, her husband giving her a worried look, ‘Oh,um…nothing just–”she gestures to her head with an awkward laugh, “It’s um…um…kinda messing with me.” and of course Rooster’s brows lowered because he knew how hard she’s being with herself.

She was going to have a good time, he was sure of it. And he was going to help.

“It’s okay, gorgeous. Is it quiet now?” he asks as he leads them through the sea of people to where their friends were.

“Kind of.”

“Just let me know if it gets worse.” he murmurs, kissing the top of her head and then her forehead, “I’ll snatch you away in a second.” and her little smile was enough for him to smile back, gently brushing his thumb over her lower lip. 

Evelyn was the first one who noticed them, slowly standing to her feet - Jake’s hands hovering by her sides and back - with a small grin, “You two got here fashionably late.” she said, her eyes immediately dropping to Beatrice’s deer in the headlights expression, it was obvious her anxiety acted up by the way she was looking around. She greets Bradley first, then immediately turns to Beatrice once he talks to Jake, “Are you okay?”

She gets a weak and shaky thumbs up from her friend.

“Are you sure?”

“Y-Yeah.I…I am just,” she turns her head when she sees someone walking by,”Is that Gigi Hadid?”

Evelyn looks up, “No she’s not here yet.”

“Yet??” Beatrice looks ready to pass out, her smile going from kind to nervous, “Oh…ahaha, she-she’s coming then.” she feels like her legs are wobbling so she holds onto Rooster to remain standing, “Oh that’s…that’s nice.”

Rooster stops the conversation to look at her, “You okay?”

“Gigi Hadid is coming.” she says, “To the party.”

“Really?” Beatrice holds onto his arm for dear life, “...you’ll be okay,gorgeous. You won’t be alone.”

Beatrice’s little laugh is the only thing he gets, followed by a squeeze to his arm. “Maybe I should get drunk- no that’s a bad idea.” she mutters, both Evelyn and Jake looking over at her, “It’s a bad idea. No I’m just…going to stay in this very spot. With you, not moving until the party is over.”

“I mean,” Evelyn comments, “We’ll still have to watch the launch,so…”

Beatrice’s face got even more desperate and she only clung to her husband tighter, “You know what, maybe I should get drunk.”

[deadhumourist]

Fandom Finds - last week of Dec

Hello! I finally got to catch up on some much-needed reading, and I'm in absolute awe of how incredibly talented people on here are. So I'm going to do a weekly round-up of things I loved in the Pedro Pascal fandom- art, fics, you name it. Here's what I loved in Dec (and a little before then, as it's the intro post!)

A gentle reminder to please support and reblog from your favourite creators to ensure more people see their amazing work!

Here we go, under the cut:

Starman (series) - @imtryingmybeskar (Ezra x F!Reader)

You know when you read something so good, you close your laptop because no words you can put on paper is going to come close to what you just read? That was me last week. This series is incredible - sensitive, insightful, a transportive glimpse into something very different. Ezra drops into his soulmate's lap, but it's not as simple as that. Clear your schedule. Read it.

Driving Mr Tovar (series) - @sirowsky (Pero Tovar x F!Reader)

When I read the original series, I turned into that crazed fan that sent the author songs that reminded me of her fic. Luckily the lovely author humoured me and we are still friends today. She's currently updating the series and the updated version is EVEN better than the original (I'm halfway through the reread of Chapter 1). Pero Tovar doesn't let anyone into his life, least of all his new driver. But he has no idea who he's up against and how his life will change. Perfect holiday escapism right here.

Queen of Poisons (series) - @artemiseamoon (Ezra x F!OFC)

Arte's Ezra and fantastic OFC Nyx has been living completely rent-free in my brain since I first inhaled the series months ago. The push and pull between these two is delicious and her heroine is a deeply nuanced badass who doesn't stand back when faced with danger. If you like supernatural worlds and strong female protagonists, you will love this.

Flowers for Ishtar (series) - Beskarberry (Din Djarin x F!Reader)

I already screamed at the author like an unhinged banshee, but this was one of the most fantastical, wild series I have ever read. Non-human!Mando and F!Reader have a solid partnership until he starts acting very weird. Please, for the love of the reptilian spacepope, read the extensive and detailed warnings, because this won't be for everyone. But if you do proceed - it's funny, magical, soft, sexy, unhinged and brilliant science-fiction fantasy with our favourite buckethead.

My only wish (series) - @foli-vora (Jack Daniels x F!Reader)

Come get your fluffy, sweet Christmas goodness here! Jack Daniels grinches his way into a a situation he never thought he's find himself in. Special appearance by a hilarious little menace who forces Jack and Reader's hand as subtly as a sledgehammer. Treat yo'self.

Unnamed (one-shot) - @juletheghoul (Frankie Morales x F!Reader Siren)

Jules' short and utterly *beautifully* devastating story about Frankie and a Siren will haunt you in more ways than one. It's the kind of story that you think about at 2am when you can't sleep.

The Fox, the Mage and the Cupboard (series) - @littlemisspascal (Multiple characters x F!Reader)

Make a cup of tea, settle under a fleece blanket and let Rae transport you to a magical world where you can forget about all the madness and real world problems. It features Javi G, Din and Pero and she makes them all very special, very distinct from each other. This series feels like a soft hug with some yearning for good measure.

An Evening with Monsters (series)- @clydesducktape (Triple Frontier boys in individual stores x F!Reader)

Kinktober hit different this year with this delicious line-up of monsters - the Triple Frontier boys are an absolute feast in this series. Thia is an incredibly talented writer, it might not be Halloween anymore, but you'll be yearning for these boys anyway.

All about the Bass - @katareyoudrilling (Marcus Pike x F!Reader)

Listen. This author has created a musical universe with the most perfect Marcus Pike (a musician) and I refuse to leave. I refuse. Get your bag, we're going to Yearnsville and staying there - this is romantic and soft and amazing. Marcus and you join an orchestra and it's not just musical notes flying. *chef's kiss*

[getlostsquidward]

Nothing Beats Home

Lou Miller x Flight Attendant!reader

A/N: This is a one-shot set before or could be after The mile high club. Wrote this as a response to the anon who requested a part 2 of that fic<3

Summary: Lou spoils you after a long day at work.

As soon as the last passenger has exited the plane, you switched your heels to simple black flats with a low moan of pleasure. As much as you felt powerful while strutting in heels in your uniform, the comfort of flats is the one you seek after a long day of work.

Technically speaking, it’s not the only thing you seek after a busy day.

Usually, you would always arrive home alone, your girlfriend either busy with the club or another job. It’s not a problem for either of you, each respecting the alone time both of you need. But this time, you stood still in the middle of the departure lounge, eyes locked on the tall, blonde, and gorgeous lady standing at the far end, holding a small bouquet of what you could make out as your favorite chocolates.

You didn’t know if you’ll cry over the overwhelming love you have for her, or laugh at the cliché romantic movie scene you are in now where everything else is blurred out but Lou. You have half a mind to check if there are hidden cameras capturing you now.

A teary-eyed wide smile made its way to your face. Your eyes are locked with hers as you close the distance between you, and you notice that she’s not wearing her staple suit this time. She’s donning all-white pants and a hoodie, with a brown leather jacket as an extra layer. Angelic.

Your smile was mirrored with hers, pearly white teeth shining under the bright lights of the airport. Are we sure that you’re not dead and this isn’t heaven with an extremely stunning angel waiting for you? Or the most pressing question, why does this feel like you’re walking down the aisle? And not on an airplane aisle, mind you.

Just as you were directly in front of her, you bury your face in the crook of her neck inhaling her signature scent. Lou, a bit surprised by the action, instinctively wrapped her toned arms around your figure, feeling the exhaustion on your whole body which was proved by your deep and heavy sigh.

“How did you know the exact time of my arrival today?” you murmured against her neck, getting at ease in Lou’s embrace.

“I have my ways, baby.”

You made a mental note to shoot Nine a text later. The blonde ran her hands on your back and uttered, “Let’s go home, I have a surprise for you.”

Curiosity piqued, you break free from her contact and looked at her. Head tilted to the side, your eyes narrowing. “What is it this time, Lou?”

“If I tell you then it’s not a surprise anymore, Y/N. Come on,” Lou chuckled, grabbing your suitcase for you. “Oh, I almost forgot,” she hands you the bouquet. “Brought you your favorites.”

You gave her a peck on the cheek as a thank you. Walking together hand-in-hand, you can’t help but feel a surge of confidence as you walk as a power couple making the airport your runway with other people’s eyes on the both of you.

Lou opened the car door for you, and as you settle down on the passenger seat, you saw your girlfriend’s favorite leopard coat draped on her seat. As she opened the door, the blonde saw you bury your head into the coat and hugged it. It’s a habit of yours, getting a whiff of Lou on her clothes. Your girlfriend watched you for a while, grinning at your antics.

“If my clothes smell so good why don’t you get them from the source?”

Immediately taking the coat away from your face, you didn’t hesitate to embrace her once again more intimately this time away from prying eyes. Like earlier, you buried your face in the crook of her neck; while Lou strokes your tresses, getting rid of the knots gently.

“Hmm, this is so much better.”

“I know. Highly recommended.”

You lift your head to look at her, to stare at her beauty. “Do you know who is jetlag’s manager?” you asked, playing with Lou’s fringe.

She furrowed her brows, a bit fazed by the question. “Uhh…”

“Because I need to speak with theeem!” you bit your lip, trying not to burst into laughter at Lou’s reaction or lack thereof.

“Honey, you’re lucky I love you.”

“That I am,” you giggled, brushing your lips against hers. Missing the feeling of Lou’s sweet lips, you tugged at her bottom lip, what started as a gentle and affectionate kiss quickly turning into a heated make-out session. The hand on your head pulled your hair making you gasp, your girlfriend conveniently slipping her tongue into your mouth, taking over the kiss.

Your hands travel under her hoodie, the warmth of her skin radiates to your palm. Your touch causes Lou to whimper, lowly, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

The hand tangling your hair remained in its place, meanwhile, Lou’s free hand found its way to your throat, squeezing softly. The woman could feel your pulse racing. Good to know she’s not the only one.

The inevitable need to breathe causes both of you to pull away, just so, your foreheads resting on each other. Heavy breathing is the only sound that can be heard in the closed space, apart from the rhythmic thumping ringing in your ear.

Lou gave you another peck on the lips, “I can never get enough of this. Of you.” She slowly pulls back and starts the engine with a stupid smile plastered on her face.

While on the road, you tell each other about your day went, you asked about the gang, until you reached that specific fantasy of yours that you once daydreamed while flying.

“It would be a total badass if that were to happen.”

“That’s one hell of a crazy idea, Y/N.”

“But it’s cool! Maybe some of you could learn how to fly a plane, the others will pose as my co-crew, the rest chilling and blending in the crowd… A heist in the sky!”

You were sure you look like an idiot with both your hands up like the Spongebob rainbow meme. Sighing, you break out of your daydream. “They should make a movie like that.”

Lou only shakes her head, amused by your antics. But you’re right, it would be cool, fun, and wild to do a heist when you’re 30,000 feet above sea level. Imagine the adrenaline.

She glanced at you when you stopped babbling, not surprised that you were out like a light, napping soundly against the headrest. Lou stopped at the side of the road, reclining your seat to help you get comfortable, and laid her coat over you.

–

The moment Lou woke you up from when you entered the loft was all a blur. She told you to go ahead, and so you did, the first thing in your mind is to soak in a warm bath.

The fact that Lou knew that it would be the foremost thing you would do when you got home brought a smile to your face. The room was lit with candles all around, the tub warm as you dipped your hand, the tulip petals scattered completed the romantic scenery.

Not wasting any time, you shed your uniform off your body and hopped in the bath. As you lay back, the aroma of scented oils used hits your nose in a savory way, not irritating at all. Relaxed and sitting tight, you closed your eyes and wondered who among the gang had helped your girlfriend prepare this bath. Are all of them in this?

That’s when Lou walks in, hair up in a bun, with a bottle of wine and two glasses in hand. “Surprise.”

Opening one eye, you peeked at her. “What a superpower you have, babe. Imagine preparing a warm bath for me as soon as we get home when you were with me the whole time. Wow.”

That earned a chuckle from the blonde, going along with your joke. “Yeah, I actually do have hands everywhere. I just finished cooking; you know.”

“Hmm. That’s absolutely impressive. But I don’t know about the ‘hands’ everywhere… I mean why aren’t they on me right now?” you smirked, knowing it would prompt her to approach you.

You were right, but to your slight dismay, she didn’t slip in the bath with you and sat on the small stool beside the tub instead. She then poured wine into the glasses, giving one to you.

“What­–“

“Mac and cheese,” she answered before even hearing the rest of your question.

“You spoil me, Miss Miller,” you retorted as you sipped on your drink.

“Nothing but the best for the best girl in the world.”

You almost felt shy by the way your cheeks burned. Almost. As a part of her surprise, she lathered your body with soap, massaged your scalp where you almost fell asleep. Bath time was surprisingly fast, considering, well, you did only take a bath this time.

After dressing up, you ate the Mac and cheese Lou cooked. Gourmet foods from hotels and different restaurants you have been to simply do not compare to your girlfriend’s homecooked meals. As cliché as it already was, you know it’s full of love.

Next up, movie time. You cuddled impossibly close to her, actively savoring the moment. But due to your long day, ten minutes into the movie and you were already passed out. She gets the remote on the bedside to turn the tv off.

Lou slides under the covers with you, ready to join you in slumber. You scooted closer, your leg coming to rest on hers. Lou presses a kiss on your forehead and whispered, “Sweet dreams, angel.”

–

tags: @madamevirgo @setsuna1415 @ilovehotactresses @thenastoaster @r4nd0mgir1 @just-another-ant1 @nocteangelus15 @bytheseangie

[lilacsandamethysts]

Home sweet home

Pairing: Scaramouche x fem!Reader (she/her pronouns)

Summary: Arriving home is always enjoyable, being greeted like this is even better.

Warnings: domestic fluff, one curse word, mentions of parenting and family life

A/n: Tbh at first I didn't get the appeal behind Scaramouche but after reading a few fics and realizing that he is the only-soft-for-their-s/o type I was hooked. Take this domestic fluff that hit me at 2 am.

The walk up the hill was always tiresome. Ever since they chose this location to build their home, he would get extra exercise whenever he left. But he knew it was worth every pant and grunt. Their small home was on top of a hill in the border of Liyue and Mondstadt, far away from the harbor and any close interaction with fatui business but also close enough to civilization in case of an emergency. He remembers travelling with her across the country trying to find the perfect location in the limited time they had left before things changed drastically. She was understanding of his concerns regarding the fatui; of course they would threaten to use her against him once they found out about her existence. Her disappearance from their lines went unnoticed, she was a low ranked officer and part of his squad after all of course he would cover it up. Anything to keep her safe, even going against his order. Nothing would matter if she was taken away from him.

He huffed one last time as he reached the top, the house coming into view finally. Glaze lilies painted the garden blue with a few silk flower bushes bringing some pink into the picture. Walking through the small wooden gate he let out a sigh, catching a glimpse of the newest additions which consisted of jueyun chilies and violetgrass. It always amazed him how she managed to make anything flourish and grow, regardless of the circumstances. Then again she did manage to brighten up his life with a simple smile. A few wooden toys were scattered around, some he recognised others not, while a small bike lay against the grass on the right side of the main entrance to the house. Chuckling he picked it up, placing it against the wall knowing fully well she would be fuming if she saw it abandoned like that. He unlocked the door, letting it close behind him with a soft click as he inhaled deeply allowing the familiar smell engulf him. It smelt of firewood and cinnamon with a hint of roses. It smelt like home. He took off his boots and hat, placing them on the costume drawer near the wall before fully stepping into the familiar space chuckling at the more toys scattered around the place.

“I’m home…” He said softly. At first he thought neither of them heard him but soon stomping could be heard from the second floor and a worried voice saying to “be careful down the stairs”. Before he knew it a little boy with bright eyes and sloppily cut dark blue hair came into view, an excited squeal leaving his lips as he jumped into his arms hugging him with all his strength.

“Dad, you’re finally back!” The little boy giggled in his arms as he peppered him with kisses, his own arms squeezing the daylights out of the little man until a strangled little squeak left his lips. And just as another fit of giggles overcame his son, another person stepped into the room; eyes wide in shock as she took in the scene in front of her a few tears trailing down her cheeks as she stared at him. After a few more moments she snapped out of her stupor, sprinting into his arms as she engulfed both of her boys in a tight hug kissing his cheek then her son’s as she smiled up at him. He rubbed small circles on her back, answering her smile with a kiss on the tip of her nose and then one on his son’s, letting all the pent up love and affection he had hidden while he was away on his harbinger duties flow between them.

“Welcome home, Scar.” They stayed like that for a few long minutes before his little boy wanted to be let down, grasping his father’s hand, dragging him across the living room and up to his own room, something about showing him his new rock collection tumbling from his lips. Scaramouche, managed to spare one last glance to his love who was trying to hold back her laughter at the scene in front of her. Who would imagine that the double faced, rude and manipulative sixth harbinger, Scaramouche the Balladeer, was in fact a soft soul who was wrapped around his son’s pinky and his wife’s ring finger. He prefers it this way. The only thing he will admit he admires about his colleague Childe was his determination he puts into keeping his occupation as far away as possible from his loved ones. Scaramouche is applying the same method with the two people he cherishes most, he couldn’t imagine what could possibly follow if the other harbingers found out about his family.

After a long day of playing in the sun, chasing each other through the house and a whole afternoon of cooking together, all three of them were exhausted. The boy was passed out on his father’s chest as he laid in bed, one arm wrapped around his wife’s waist while the other lay on the boy’s hair playing with the silky soft strands of blue. He stirred in his sleep when his mother leaned over to give him a kiss but he didn’t wake up, instead he nestled deeper into his dad’s chest. Scaramouche, albeit tired, stayed awake staring at the ceiling basking in the warmth his two loves provided.

“I didn’t expect you to come home this week.” She said softly, tracing patterns on his right peck. “I thought things were hectic this month.”

“You want my professional or personal answer?” He turned to look at her, their noses touching lightly. Her eyes bore into his and without even needing to say anything he knew the answer. “I missed you. Both of you. Things are still out of hand and will continue to be for quite some time but I felt like I was drowning in there. Everything was too much and I couldn’t wait until I could come visit.” He kissed her once, their lips molding together into a sensual kiss leaving them both gasping for air.

“Plus... Childe was being a pain in the ass.”

[iwadori]

Haikyu boys when they take a joke/prank too far (Iwaizumi,Daichi)

Word count: 1.9K

Genre:angst,fluff

AN: In the spirit of April Fools I tried to make my first work based on that I hope you enjoy!! (LOL I can’t actually believe this was the first thing I’ve ever written)

Iwaizumi:

“Okay so it’s April Fools Day who are we going to prank?” asked Makki “One of the first years?”

“Do we have to prank someone this year..” replied Iwaizumi “so childish”

“Iwa-Chan!” Oikawa said “Don’t be such a spoil sport.”

“Anyways, it can’t be a first year they’re boring to prank a first year coach will be mad at us, we need someone else.”

Just then, you enter the gym, catching their eye as you approach the group sitting on Iwaizumi’s lap “Hey babe, I can still come over to yours to study right?” you ask.

“Yeah of course, practice finishes early so I'll be there before you.” He said

“Alright, see you then bye babe, bye guys” you said, giving Iwaizumi a kiss on the cheek sauntering off and waving at Makki, Mattsun and Oikawa.

“bye Y/N!” They teasingly responded in unison making you laugh.

As they watched you leave, it seemed as if a lightbulb pinged off in all of their heads (besides Iwaizumi) realizing who would be a great person to prank.  

After a lot of convincing, they finally got Iwaizumi in on the ‘harmless’ plan, all they needed to do now is wait on your arrival.

You’re finally done with school after a long and tiring day of exams upon exams and wanting nothing more than to cuddle with your boyfriend (after he teaches you Pythagoras theorem of course.) You did think he was acting weird when you met him this morning in the gym and throughout break and lunch but you just concluded that it was because he was having an ‘off’ day.

You reached his house and used a copy of his key that he gave you to enter we just enter houses up in this bitch  calling out his name “Zumi-babe, I'm here...”  

“Lets get this shit over with” you said tiredly

Upon entering, you notice none of the lights being on or curtains drawn ‘odd’ you think. You go upstairs going straight to his room hopefully to find your boyfriend in his bed or on his Xbox or something. To your surprise his bedroom door was somehow locked shut (even though not having a lock on his door anyways.) Suddenly, you hear creaks slowly trailing up the stairs and an eerie feeling surrounds you... now you start to feel pretty panicked jiggling the door handle to Iwaizumi’s door as it’s practically the only place you can go.

AN: I hate what I’m writing rn but onwards we right

The footsteps on the stairs start to quicken, and you almost certain that you felt something brush pass your shoulder only adding onto the panic and anxiety that you already feel. Ok, the footsteps on the stairs are basically right near you, so doing the only logical thing you can do you body slam the ‘person’ on the stairs as you motherfuckin should  as tears fill your eyes and you pick up bag bolting through the front door, slamming it shut now in full tears and shakingly scared.

You look behind you and see Iwaizumi’s front door re-open and out comes the ‘iNFaMouS sEiJOh fOuR’ in tears... of laughter. It seems that the boys were in laughing fits that their prank ‘payed off’ getting a reaction out of you. You couldn’t see Iwaizumi’s reaction, but you didn’t care you were hurt, annoyed and wanting to get into your bed.

Once you get home, you decide to block your so called ‘friends’ who decided to make you scared shitless and ignored Iwaizumi’s messages asking “where were you today”.... the AUDACITY.  

The next day, the boy’s seemed to realize the consequences of their actions after spending the whole day trying to get your attention only to be straight up ignored. Iwaizumi is immensely regretful after all his efforts to try talking to you were denied, he decided after his practice he was going to get you to talk to him or at least get you to listen to his apologies on what happened yesterday evening.

You left your clubroom and made your way to the school gate to go home.

“Y/N!” shouted Iwaizumi touching your shoulder making you flinch ‘wow did we really scare her that bad?”  

“What do you want iwa?” You asked very agitated

“Y/N I just want to apologize for yesterday, since it was April fools day and all the boys really wanted to prank someone and I-it just happened to be-”

“It just happened to be me. Right?” you interrupted “Gosh Iwaizumi, I was really scared.. I already had a tiring day and all I wanted was my boyfriend to teach me the stupid Pythagoras Theorem and cuddle me afterwards, but no you and your friends just had to be dicks for a day” you turn around planning to walk away before he grabs you again  

“Wait! Just wait y/n, im sorry and I wont ever prank you like that again” he pleaded

“.. and i’ll help you study?” he added pulling the sweetest face of all time to try and convince you  

“ugh, fine stop pulling that face... and you better teach me Pythagoras Theorem” you said rolling your eyes

“yeah yeah whatever you say y/n” he said pulling you under his arm and walking in the direction of his house.

A/N: WOW I DID NOT like the way this turned out but its my first official thing that I wrote hopefully HOPEFULLY MY WORK IMPROVES (I THINK IT WILL) SO please join me on this ‘ride’ in improving my work  

Daichi:

You decided this morning that you were NOT going to participate in your annual April Day Fool’s prank with Tanaka and Noya... only because of your not-so new boyfriend Daichi saying he didn’t need his teammates corrupting you any longer so you decided to not get involved. With that being said you wouldn’t even think of your boyfriend pulling a prank on you so you didn’t think you’re getting pranked today.

In the gym, the boys were doing the usual: Hinata and Kageyama running after eachother, Tanaka and Noya oogling Kiyoko, Tsukishima listening to music, Yama and Yachi going over club schedules whilst Daichi sat with Sugawara and Asahi.

“So are you pranking anyone today?” sugawara asked

“Pranking someone, isn’t that a bit too juvenile suga?” Asahi replied

“Not you silly, Daichi” said sugawara “With Y/N on his arm they always have to stay on eachothers toes right..she’s a ‘jokester’ right?”

“...right?” Daichi hadn’t thought of it that way, he did know of all your joking escapades before you even got together and how you still liked to joke around now as you date.. He didn’t want you to think that you thought he was too boring for you ?

“Ok. What type of prank should I pull on her..”

Daichi, Sugawara and Asahi (who didn’t really contribute to Suga’s scheming) made a plan for you to meet him at the gym locker with the claims that he had a ‘surprise’ for you .. oh how he was wrong.

Daichi: meet me at the gym locker I have something to show you  

Y/N: Ok!! I’ll be there in 5 minutes

Daichi was nervous, and that was an understatement he didn’t want things to go left and have you thinking he couldn’t even do a simple prank. Once you got there, he saw heard you talking to Sugawara and Asahi outside the door about him wondering where he was in which Suga told you inside the locker room.

“Hey babe” you greeted “what's the occasion in why we’re in here?”

“I...uh..um I need to get something one second” Daichi spoke quickly and rushed out the room closing the door leaving you confused. Minutes passed, and you were now impatient and kinda scared since the room was dusty, dark and cold definitely not your place to be in. You tried texting Daichi but just your luck you have no service ://  

As time went on you tried opening the door but it was jammed shut no hope opening at all you forgot you left your bag outside which of course had your inhaler which did not help the sudden shortness of breath you started to get because of your asthma and claustrophobia. All you wanted was to get out of this room and talk to … Daichi.

Daichi. How convenient that he manage to slip away before the door got closed hmm but he wouldn’t intentionally prank you after ALL the lectures he gave you about not doing pranks this year right?

You didn’t notice how you started to cry and whimper wanting to leave.

On the outside, Daichi heard your cries and ordered Sugawara and Asahi to find the key to immediately get you out which it seems to take a while because Daichi has now stopped hearing your tears making him gulp in fear thinking something bad has happened to you in there.

Sugawara comes to you handing Daichi the keys, his handing shaking as he tries to unlock the door when he eventually does he finds you passed out on the ground of the dusty storage room. Very cliché I know ://

You wake up in the Nurses Office a bit confused on how you got there until your eyes land upon Daichi, remembering how you locked you in the Storage room where you had an asthma attack and passed out. You turned your body away from Daichi not wanting to talk to him right now after the hypocrisy he did.

“Y/N.. Are you alright?” He asked

“Do I look alright?” You responded in a bored tone

“I am really sorry Y/N... I know what I said to you about not doing pranks this year but Sugawara roped me into this and I didn’t want you to think I was too boring for you so I thought doing this prank would make you see me in a different light” he said

“yeah i saw you in a different light alright” you sassed, you then realised what he said ‘too boring’ kind of feeling less mad and more sad that he feels this way “Dai, you’d never be to boring for me … you’re one of the most funness is that a word? guys I've ever met.”

“really?” he asked  

“Of course! I’m kind of still mad at you for letting this happen but I do sort of understand why” you said giving him a hug.

You were eventually cleared to go home and as you left the clinic you saw Asahi and Sugawara standing at the door.  

“Y/N WE’RE SORRY” they bowed to you waiting on your responses

You chuckled slightly at their cuteness and ruffled both of their hair “all is forgiven, just make sure there’s ‘pranks’ this year “

Which they agreed upon.  

A/N: WOW I DID NOT like the way these turned out but its my first official thing that I wrote hopefully HOPEFULLY MY WORK IMPROVES (I THINK IT WILL) SO please join me on this ‘ride’ in improving my work. Feedback is VERY MUCH APPRECIATED and request too since I will literally write whatever...

I may do a part 2 … any particular characters people want?

[forever-rogue]

Hi! Wondering if you’re gonna be taking prompts from the 360 you posted. If you are would you be able to do 36 and 54 with Din? Would love to see those with him!

Prompts used: 36. "Does he know about the baby?"

54. "H-how long have you been standing there?"

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: pregnant reader

THE MANDALORIAN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Boba?” you reached for the Mandalorian’s arm and stopped him from going any further into his new hold. You wondered, for an amused fraction of a second, if you should attempt to address him as King Boba, just to get a rouse out of him. But the severity, the harsh reality of your current predicament placated any desire to do so. Fett turned to face you, pulling his helmet off so he could see you properly, “might I have a moment of your time?”

“Of course,” he set the helmet down on the aging wooden table as you inhaled and exhaled slowly, “what’s wrong, little one?”

“I was wondering...once you and Fennec are settled and Din plans on leaving,” you found the ground intriguing as you studied the worn soles of your shoes before continuing on, “might I stay on? With the two of you? I-I know I’m not as skilled as either of you, but I swear I’ll pull my weight and do as much as I can - whatever you desire. I would just like to stay here.”

Boba paused for a moment as he looked you over and contemplated what you had asked him. He had no issue with you staying on, absolutely none, knowing you were both capable and a quick learner. It was the reason behind the sudden request that caused him to consider his words. As he watched you, and you grew increasingly nervous, a single tear, one of nerves and worry rolled down her cheek and fell to the sandy ground. 

“Of course you can stay,” his hand went to your shoulder as he delicately squeezed it in a sign of reassurance, “make sure your Mandalorian knows of your plan. It would be a great shock for him to be blindsided.”

“Yes.”

“Does he know about the baby?” he chanced his question, although he was sure he wasn’t too far off the mark. While he had no children of his own, he’d been around enough women to know when someone fell pregnant. Maybe the bounty hunter was extra perceptive, maybe it was a trait of the Mandalorians to all be nurturing and familial, but from the look on your face, he knew he was right on money. 

“How did you...I haven’t told anyone,” your eyes were wide with worry as you looked around to make sure no one had heard Boba. If Din were to ever find out, this would be the last way you wanted him to do so, “I-I found out two months ago and I just...I don’t know what to do. I’m scared and nervous and worried. I can’t just tell him - he’s got too much going on to worry about something else. I can’t do that to him.”

“You think it is a better idea to never tell him about his child and take away any decision he has in this?” ever the level headed negotiator, Boba had a point. Your lips pulled into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, “he deserves to know. Whatever decision he makes after that is up to him. It will tell you his true measure, although I am sure that is already quite apparent.”

“Boba, he’s the Mand’alor now,” you reached for his arm and held it tightly in your grasp, “I-I can’t have him worry about a silly thing like this. Especially not after...Grogu.”

“Tell me then, just what do you plan on doing with the babe?” it was a fair question to ask, and one you really needed to think about. The baby was going to come one way or another, so you would need a plan as quickly as possible, “were you going to have it and hide it? Hand it off to someone else? Raise it on your own and expect that he would never find out? He is your riduur-”

“And he is the Mandalorian and the Mand’alor,” you grew frustrated, not with Boba but with yourself. You knew he was right, you knew that you needed to tell Din but… it wasn’t that simple, “I can’t hold him back with a baby.”

“Suppose you don’t tell him,” Boba held up a hand for a moment as a musing glint entered his eye, “suppose you remain here and have ths child. Do you think he’s never going to come back to see you? Or for business? It would be awfully suspicious if he came in three or four months and found you round with child. It wouldn’t take much to put two and two together. It would be a greater pain, I think, if you were not to say anything and he came back to find the truth. You owe him at least some honesty.”

“You’re right,” you confessed quietly, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, “of course you are. I’m scared, Boba. I don’t want him to be angry and hate me or the baby. I don’t want to hold him back either. I want him to be happy…”

“He’d be a lot happier if you’d come to him with this first,” the voice startled you to your core as you realized exactly who it was. Swallowing the lump in your throat, your eyes widened in worry as Boba offered you an encouraging nod. Turning on your heel, you found Din watching both of you with intent; his expression was almost unreadable as your hands started to tremble.

“How long have you been standing there?” what a stupid question from a stupid girl.

“Long enough,” his voice was pointedly neutral as you nodded in understanding, “I think we need to talk.”

“Yes,” you agreed as you shuffled over to him, preparing yourself for the worst. 

Din was silent as he led you back to the quarters that served as your temporary home while you’d helped Boba and Fennec settle into their new roles. You followed close behind and swallowed the lump in your throat as he sealed the door. 

“It is it true?” he asked softly as his gaze shifted to your belly; there was still no evidence of your pregnancy just yet. But soon enough there would be, “you’re with child?”

“Yes,” you admitted, a hand slowly coming to rest on your belly, “I am. I found out…”

“Two months ago,” he finished for you as you nodded, “and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I was scared and nervous, Din!”

“Were you ever going to tell me?” he asked softly as you refused to meet his eyes, “Cyare?”

“I wanted to,” you whispered, “I planned on it-”

“When?!”

“Eventually,” you’d seen your husband angry before, but never quite like this...never at you, “I was scared and I panicked and there was so much happening at once.”

“You were scared?” he asked as you nodded. Din stepped closer and stopped in front of you, looking at you curiously as he realized just how hard this was for you as well, “were you scared of me?”

“No,” you grabbed his hand and quickly cut him off, “never of you. It was just everything all at once. With losing...him, everything with the Mandalorians and Boba and Fennec. There could not have been a worse time for this to happen. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

“You’re sorry?” a look of confusion marred his features as his eyes softened and crinkled in the corner, “whatever are you sorry for? In case you forgot, this didn’t happen just because of you. It takes two...nothing in life seems to go to plan, but that doesn’t mean this doesn’t have to work out, Cyare. You are my riduur and that is our child.”

A large hand found your belly as he pulled you into him, wasting no precious time before he wrapped his arms around you. You hugged him back, just as tightly, just as fiercely, clinging onto him like it was the only thing in life that mattered, “I should have told you sooner, please forgive me, Din. I should have come to you first…”

“I’m glad I found out,” he whispered as he pressed gentle kisses to the side of your head before pulling back and cradling your face in his hands, “before something else happened or we were separated. I’m not mad, I’m happy - really happy. It doesn’t matter that the timing isn’t perfect or we’re in a different situation than we thought we might be. I’m happy, Cyare. I love you beyond measure, and that includes our whole family - Grogu, and whatever other children we’ll have.”

“Yeah?” you asked softly, barely above a whisper as he pressed his forehead against yours, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he agreed, “I hold you in my heart forever - you are my home, my heart, my family. We’ll figure this out together, I swear. Just promise me one thing.”

“Anything, Din.”

“Don’t stay here,” he pressed a kiss to your lips, “stay with me.”

“Yes,” your smiled against his lips, “I’m not going anywhere.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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