#and you just kind of have to sit there and deal with that

[baepsays]

Musician Geto Suguru and his never-ending beef with his bandmates over your attention.

The thing is, as their main producer and just a very sought-after producer in the industry, he's barely able to leave his studio. Things were different before the scandal, before he was reintroduced to you, and before you two went official. His schedule was simple then—studio, recordings, shows, parties and clubs he was a regular at, getting high out of his mind on coke and weed, and going back to his studio. He barely saw any light, and his apartment felt foreign; hotel rooms were more homely than his apartment. Now it's lived in, with traces of you and the life he is building with you. Your—and now also his—scoundrel cat's claw marks are everywhere; there are stains on the couch, and all the smooth and shiny furniture is now matted. He also prefers his home studio, which he never came around to using, much better than the one at the company.

To simply say, things are mundane in the best way possible. Having lunches and dinners with his bandmates and just talking about things other than work or how he's losing himself was much more fun, he has to say. Especially when no one is throwing punches at him backstage, ahem—Sukuna—ahem. Of course it took more effort to carve out this new usual than how he used to just live off of drugs, caffeine, burning through cigarettes, and barely any food. He much prefers the boring days where he just goes from work to home to see you only at the end of the day, of course, not more than when you come to their shows. But he'll take anything, just to have you around for more than the mornings before and nights after work; it's a privilege. Even having you for more than just 3 shows for a tour is a blessing, due to the vast difference in your schedules.

Which is why he truly looks forward to days when you drop by to have lunch with him. Those weekdays are always a highlight of his week. So when he has to compete with his own bandmates for your attention or the home-cooked lunch you make for him to eat with him in the privacy of his studio, preferably sitting on his lap.

He wants to fight his own bandmates as violently as he used to. Choso, he gets; after all, Choso is the sweetest of them all; it sometimes does not make any sense to him how he ended up in this edgy rock band. But then again, where was Suguru going to find a vocalist and guitarist of Choso’s caliber? Yet still, Suguru does not appreciate it when he takes up your time when you two exchange recipes. Then there is Toji, always barging in to steal the precious food you made for Suguru, eating up most of the food while always making excuses about just one small bite. Suguru would have made Shiu (their CEO) kick Toji out of the company itself, just because of this petty reason, if there was anyone else better on the drums than him. 

Then there is Sukuna. Probably the one who pisses him off the most. Because why is the broody, scary, and one of the quietest men that Suguru knows like a social butterfly around you? Sure, you legally represent their band, but why is he so chatty around you about everything and anything? Is it not enough that he has to deal with one social butterfly, aka the nation's most desirable man and industry's favorite actor, Gojo Satoru, snitching out Suguru to you? There's now also Sukuna, snitching to you about how Suguru skipped meals to hole himself up in his studio for days or smoked more than two cigarettes a day. The worst part is when you drop by, you text in the group chat you are in with them to see if they would be at work that day. And you bring extra food for them or invite them sometimes to eat out with you two (and yet Toji still manages to steal off of Suguru's plate), and if it's just a you and Suguru kind of day, you still see them before or after your boyfriend locks you up in his studio with him.

Just like today, when you dropped by with a packed lunchbox for him and got roped up, yet again, with his bandmates. He got your text at exactly 13:34 PM that you entered the building, and sure, his studio was on the 19th floor, but it took only 5 minutes or so to get there. Unfortunately for him, he had to wait more than 30 minutes for you because you texted him you were just a floor below, in their practice room with his bandmates. And when 40 minutes were about to pass, Suguru had to essentially go down and abduct you by carrying you on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and making a run for it with your bag in his other hand. He could hear Sukuna yelling his name from behind, but he made it just in time to the elevator to get away with you.

“The only reason why I will ever go fully solo is because of your little fan club.” He walked into his studio while grumbling and with you still dangling on his shoulder.

“Issok, I will replace you.” He threw you on the black leather couch and lay on top of you, like he just fought an army of hungry coyotes and ran a marathon at the same time. “Hmm, I see you guys are scheming behind my back now.” He looked up at you from where he buried his face in your chest.

“I say it's very up front.” You giggled and pushed away the loose strands of his hair covering his face, and he didn't reply. Instead, he lifted himself off of you to hover and then moved up to kiss you. It was sweet, smiling, warm faces basically pressed together. Everything still feels surreal, how mundane life is right now for him considering even just two years ago the kind of mess he got himself into. That how his life looked doomed after that moment, and yet here he was.

“I have this new track in the works.” He broke off the kiss and hovered over you with his hooded eyes and a smirk so sleazy, it always made you wonder about your life choices. “Oh, am I hearing it?” You raised your brows at him, and his smirk only widened into a half smile.

“Nope. You're getting on it.” Which basically translates to, ���I am about to make you moan, and the recording is going into the track.’ You threw your head back into the couch as you tried to push him away and groaned in annoyance. Which was not much avail to you when, despite your efforts, he nuzzled his face in your neck and started leaving a trail of kisses from the base of your neck to your jaw, then up to your lips. And when his lips met yours, a small moan just absentmindedly left your lips as his lips slotted with yours. Suguru’s lips stretched into a big smile while his eyes remained closed, and he continued kissing you until he stopped to murmur into your mouth.

“Ooh. Save all of that for the track.”

FIND MORE OF MY WORKS HERE II FIND MORE ABOUT MUSICIAN GETO

a/n: dividers by @/hyuneskkami

you can think about this as the epilogue to the musician geto au :3c which will take time. I have not graduated yet lol fuck lab exams and i am brainrotted by prince geto soooooo. you can assume what the scandal may beeeee you will be finding that and more band dynamics in the fic!

[batsandbirdbrains]

Ok Dick biting Hal as a kid has got to be one of my favorite headcanons of all time. Like atp it IS canon to me. But now I’m imagining Dick biting all the members of the JL at least once because they’ve done something that’s either pissed him off, or pissed Bruce off. Hal is obviously bitten first and everyone thinks he’s exaggerating or being a big baby about how much it hurts. Then Clark gets bitten because Bruce got hurt on a JL mission where Clark was supposed to be watching his back. And to be fair, Dick growled at him before he bit, which was far more warning than Hal had received. When Dick sinks his teeth - some of which are still baby teeth - into Clark’s meaty, Kryptonian arm, it shouldn’t hurt. But somehow Clark is tearing up as he lets out a pained howl. It takes both Aquaman and the Flash to remove Dick. Clark doesn’t use that arm for two days, wincing every time he jostles it. How and why Dick bites the others is up for interpretation. Eventually, once all of them have been bitten, they call a meeting about it. Not to get him to stop or anything, just to figure out why it hurts so fucking much. They’re all throwing out various theories when someone says “No seriously, what hell does that kid put into his bites?” when Dick emerges from the shadows and says, deadpan, “Vengeance.” before cackling evilly and disappearing. They all shudder before deciding to never piss him off or talk about his biting ever again.

Also now I’m kind of imagining Dick and Slade fighting for the first time when Dick is just a little gremlin and Slade is like “pffft as if this fourth grader could beat me” only to panic when said fourth grader sinks his teeth into him so hard that he still has the scar years later.

I'm imagining Bruce seeing how Dick's go-to attack is to bite people, and he immediately makes a specialized mouth guard for him. It perfectly molds to his teeth, but it's extra sharp and leaves a different imprint than Dick's actual bite. Mostly so no one can compare dental records or anything to the scars that Dick will no doubt leave on many, many people. It has to be updated regularly when Dick is still young because of him losing his baby teeth.

The first time Dick bites Superman is because he brought Batman back to the Batcave in terrible shape. They'd been on a mission together, it was supposed to be quick, easy, no big deal. And now Dr. Leslie and Alfred are working on him in the Batcave medbay, and Dick just turns to Superman with tears and rage in his eyes. And he launches himself at him and attacks.

Clark yelps as soon as he realizes ouch, he can feel that! What the hell!

"Dick! Dick, let go!"

"You promised you'd bring him back home safe!" Dick cries, but his words are muffled, his teeth still sinking into Clark's arm. "He got hurt!"

"I know, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Clark says quickly. "But he's going to be fine, Dickie, it's mostly just a broken arm and a concussion!"

Dick is growling and hanging off Clark's arm, until Alfred comes out and announces that Bruce is ready to for visitors. Dick unlatches quickly, then scampers over to Alfred, still sniffling. As soon as he catches sight of Bruce, he starts whining and crying and cuddles next to him on the bed.

Clark never makes fun of Hal for the ankle guards again. Dick really does have crazy sharp teeth. Clark's arm is bruised for days around the puncture marks, and he's left with a scar on his arm in the shape of Dick's mouth.

A few months later, Dick has started hanging out with Garth a lot. They become pals. Very good friends. Best friends, almost.

And Garth hangs out with him one day and looks so glum and down in the dumps and says how Aquaman was mean to him during training, but it's okay, it was Garth's own fault. That doesn't sit well with Dick. No one makes his friends upset and gets away with it.

The next time Dick accompanies Bruce to the Watchtower, Dick locks in on Aquaman and chomps right on his arm. Like eating a fish stick. Aquaman yelps and tries to pry him off, asking him what happened and what's wrong and why the hell is Robin biting him?

"Don't be mean to my friends!" is all Dick says before he stomps off to go back to Batman's side. Before he reaches Batman fully, he turns and locks eyes with Aquaman, making that creepy I've got my eye on you gesture. It sends a shiver down Aquaman's spine.

He bites pretty much every other JL member for various reasons between the ages of 8-11. When they eventually call a meeting for it, Batman just stares at all of them with an unimpressed look.

"Perhaps you should try not upsetting him," Batman tells them, then turns on his heel and leaves. Dick, who'd been hiding under Batman's cape, grins at all of them and sends a taunting little wave before the cape covers him up again.

Dick first encounters Deathstroke at the ripe age of nine. During said encounter, Dick is terrified. Deathstroke is talking about wanting to make Dick his apprentice, how he's going to steal him from right under the Bat's nose, and Dick panics.

And he resorts to biting the exposed skin he sees when Deathstroke tries to nab him by his cape.

He damn near bites Deathstroke's hand clean off at the wrist. It startles Slade so bad that he shouts, throws Dick off to the side, and is distracted just long enough for Dick to run away and get back to the Batmobile.

Dick is panting and a little freaked out as he relays the story to Bruce from the safety of the Batmobile as Bruce drives them home. Bruce reaches over and pats Dick's head, his own heart beating so hard in his chest.

"Good job, chum," Bruce says softly. "Use every weapon you have. Always."

Dick nods his head, wrapping his cape tight around him.

[zyettemoon1800]

Saja Boys watching you get your hair braided

Since becoming the manager of the Saja Boys, you haven't been able to catch a break. If it wasn't a meet and greet then it was practice, and if it wasn't that then they needed you to do something for them. Just when you thought you were going to crash out, Jinu decided that everyone deserved a break for the next day.

Knowing that you might not get this chance again, you made an appointment to get your hair braided. The following day, as you woke up extremely early to go to your appointment, you were surprised and annoyed to see all the boys up and ready to go with you.

Not wanting to deal with them, you told them that they could tag alone as long as they are on their good behavior.

Baby

He wasn't really interested in going, but since everyone else was going he just tagged along.

For the first five hours he was fine and kept himself entertained, however, after his phone dies and he doesn't have a charger, so he makes it your problem.

While you are sitting in the chair, he will walk up to your chair and look at your hair when the person is braiding it. "Are they supposed to be different sizes?" He'll say and then walk away

Romance

He did really well for the entire 10-hour process.

He most sat over by you and made sure you didn't need anything.

As you are getting your hair braided, he is already showing you pictures of other braid styles that he thinks will look good on you.

Since the place that you are getting your hair done at is in a kind of crowded area, he will go out and get food for you

Mystery

He didn't make it pass the two-hour mark

He is a fidgeter and sitting for hours on end is not something he wants to do.

He will start to read and look at everything in the store and when he is done with that, he will mess with you for a little bit by staring at you or sitting by you and putting his head on your lap.

He would definitely go with Romance whenever he goes out to get food.

Abby

Another one with a short attention span

He will probably join Mystery in reading everything in the store, however he does get bored on that pretty soon, so he will start lifting heavy things and start exercising.

He will start flexing and posing in the mirror and taking pictures with you in the shot

Jinu

Through the entire process, he is asking you a bunch on questions about your hair and why you wanted to spend you day off doing this.

You both had a talk about how your hair does much better when it is left alone.

He is amazed by your braids and keeping touching them

However, after about five hours he does leave because he is bored.

[dismalflo]

hiii!! i love your writing! i was wondering if i could request something with poly!marauders where reader is having a multiple-day episode where she just stays in bed and cries and can’t seem to do anything? i think that they would be good about trying to help her without pressuring her

i deal with that stuff especially in the summer and i think the hurt/comfort would be so cute

no pressure of course i know it’s kind of a heavy topic, have an amazing day!!

Hi, love! thank you for requesting <3 i hope this is the kind of thing you wanted

poly!marauders x fem!reader ✩ 1.9k words

cw; depression

The warmth of the room feels cruel, almost mocking. The air is heavy and stale from stillness and you know it’s because you haven’t summoned the will to get up and crack a window. Even the idea of moving feels like it would drain the last bit of strength you’re clinging to.

There’s guilt too, thick and low in your chest, compounding the numb weight that's settled over you. The boys – your boys – never signed up for this. For the version of you where everything feels unreachable, everything except the sadness. So you pushed them away.

Rationally, you know that only made things worse. But you’d convinced yourself you deserved the isolation. You remember how James’ face fell when you asked them to leave you alone – how it crumpled under the weight of helplessness. Remus and Sirius hadn’t looked any better, but they knew this territory. They've wandered it themselves, and maybe that’s why they didn’t protest.

You hate this version of yourself. You wonder if, with a little luck, your bones might fuse right here, locked in place so you'd never have to move again. You feel ridiculous. Small.

A wash of light spills into the room, startling you out of your thoughts. Remus stands in the doorway, silhouetted for a moment, then quietly walks in, a glass of water in his hand. He sits on the edge of the bed, folding one leg beneath him so he can face you. His free hand gently brushes your hair from your face.

“Hi, dove,” he murmurs.

“Hi,” you rasp back, your voice rough from disuse, the shadow of a smile tugging at your lips.

He smiles too. It’s soft and sad and not nearly as bright as usual. You must look a mess.

“Can you sit up and drink some of this for me, lovely girl?”

You shift, the scratch of sheets beneath you suddenly deafening in the quiet. Muscles ache and a dull throb passes through you from being still too long. But you sit up, slowly, the motion ungraceful and tired. Remus moves with you, steadying the glass so water doesn’t slosh over the sides as he hands it over, his hand warm at the back of your neck.

It tastes like nothing and everything. Cold and clean, cutting through the film in your mouth and the weight in your throat. You drink it all.

“Good girl,” he says quietly, just enough praise to feel like something, but not enough to make you shrink from it. His thumb brushes against your jaw before he leans back a little, giving you space but not going far.

“Y’know how Jamie bought enough bananas for all of Britain?” he begins, eyes flicking toward the window, where the curtains are drawn.

You hum a soft, “Mmhmm,” already imagining James’ sheepish grin and his arms bracketed by tote bags.

“Well,” Remus continues, a little more animated now, “they all went brown too quickly and he wouldn't let Sirius throw them out. Kept saying they shouldn’t be wasted.” He huffs a laugh under his breath. “So now we’ve got three loaves of banana bread. All of them with chocolate chips.’”

You don’t laugh, exactly. But your lips curve, not the ghost of a smile this time, but something real. Small and fragile. You look at him, and he’s watching you, something soft flickering in his eyes. Relief, maybe. Or hope.

You shift your legs beneath you.

“Did he burn them?” you ask, voice raspier than you'd like but steady enough.

Remus smiles again, eyes crinkling faintly at the corners. “Only one. Sirius keeps making fun of him for it.”

You sit with the empty glass in your lap for a minute after Remus finishes speaking, thumb tracing the rim slowly, quietly.

You swallow around a lump that isn’t quite sadness – more like uncertainty – before glancing up at Remus again. He doesn’t rush you. He never does. His hand is still resting loosely on your ankle, anchoring you without pressure.

“…Do you think,” you begin slowly, voice catching a little, “Do you think they’d mind if I came into the living room for a bit?”

His brow furrows, not from confusion but concern. “Mind?” 

You look down at the duvet, picking at a loose thread. “Because I told them to go. And I know that was–it wasn’t really fair. I just didn’t know what else to do.” The words tumble out, half-formed. “Are they angry?”

There’s a pause. Then a warm weight settles next to you again, and Remus is reaching out to gently tilt your chin so you’ll look at him.

“They love you, I love you,” he says simply. “They’re not mad. They just want to be here for you, we all do.”

You nod slowly, still unsure, still wading through that murky middle ground between wanting comfort and fearing you don’t deserve it. But Remus smiles like it’s already decided, like the hardest part is already done.

“C’mon then,” he says, standing and offering you a hand.

You hesitate. Not because you don’t want to take it, but because your fingers feel clumsy and you’re half afraid you’ll fall apart if someone holds you too carefully. But you take his hand anyway, and he squeezes once, grounding you.

Remus walks close without crowding, letting your pace set the rhythm. When you pause outside the door, his hand slips from yours to rest lightly on the small of your back.

Inside, you hear Sirius grumbling something in French, followed by James groaning when he doesn’t understand. All of you have taken to learning little bits here and there with Sirius as your teacher.

It makes you smile.

You take a breath. Then another. And step inside.

The room is warm, in a different way to the bedroom. The afternoon light slants in golden through the half-open curtains. Sirius is sprawled sideways on the sofa, all long limbs and sleepy eyes, a blanket draped over one shoulder. James is sitting on the floor overlooking a notepad laid out on the coffee table.

The second they clock you in the doorway, everything stills.

Sirius sits up straighter, his eyes soft, cautious, like he’s afraid too sudden a move might scare you off. James blinks once, then straightens so fast it’s almost comical.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Sirius says gently, his voice quieter than usual but still unmistakably him.

 And before your brain can talk you out of it, your feet are moving, bringing you to the sofa. You settle beside Sirius, tucking yourself gently into the crook of his arm.

He doesn’t say anything else. Just curls that arm around your shoulders and pulls you in, slow and careful, like you’re something precious and he’s terrified of cracking you open.

You close your eyes. It feels safer here. Warmer. Maybe you haven’t ruined everything after all.

You glance up at James, who’s still sitting there, looking like a very large puppy waiting for instructions. You can see him itching to ask, before he does.

“Do you want anything, angel? Cup of tea maybe?”

You let out a breathy little huff of air – something like a laugh. Sometimes, you think, James’ only desire in life is to make sure the people he loves most are well cared for and looked after. He does it well. 

You give him the smallest of smiles. “Remus said you made banana bread?”

Sirius snorts beside you, the sound low and delighted. “Just here for the banana bread, you minx.” He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, tucking you in a little tighter.

You close your eyes as Sirius tightens his arm around your shoulders, pulling you a little closer, the warm pressure of his embrace a gentle weight that feels just shy of grounding you. 

James’ voice cuts through the calm, light and teasing, “I’ll be right back, angel. You’re in for a treat.”

He disappears into the kitchen, and you hear the telltale scrape of the oven door opening, the soft clink of plates and the faint hum of him moving about, preparing. Sirius doesn’t speak at first, but you feel his gaze lingering on you. His thumb runs absent-mindedly along the edge of your arm, his fingers brushing against the soft fabric of your sleeve.

“It’s a good job you’re having some now,” he finally says, voice laced with an amused undertone, “I don’t think it’s going to last long. It’s his best yet.”

You blink at him, eyes heavy. “Really?”

“Mmhm,” he replies, the teasing lilt in his voice giving way to a touch of pride, “I told him so too.”

A small, genuine smile slips onto your face. You know what Sirius’ praise looks like, it’s usually a silly amount of kisses and a few cheeky comments.

As if on cue, Remus appears at the doorway, his frame lit by the soft, golden light filtering through the curtains. In his hand, he holds another glass of water, freshly refilled. You hadn’t even realized you were thirsty again, but as soon as you see it, the weight in your throat suddenly seems more pronounced.

“Here you go, dove,” he murmurs, crossing the room calmly and handing it off to you, his fingers brushing yours. He settles into the armchair across from the couch, his long legs folding beneath him.

You take it from him gratefully, bringing it to your lips. The coolness of it against your parched throat is a relief. You take a sip, and as the water slides down, the haze in your head clears just a fraction.

Sirius’s voice, now a little quieter, takes on that same careful, almost protective tone. “Let me hold it for you.”

Without a word, you pass the glass over to him. His fingers wrap around it securely, holding it in place as you rest against his side again. It’s the smallest of gestures, but it’s kind and sweet and entirely unnecessary.

James returns with a plate, steam still rising from the banana bread. The smell – rich and sweet with a hint of chocolate – hits you before you even see it. You sit up just enough to take in the sight of the loaf, golden and slightly uneven, with just the right amount of gooey chocolate chips poking through.

“There you go, love,” James says softly, his smile wide and boyish, as he holds the plate out to you. “Fresh out of the oven.”

You take a small piece, breaking off a chunk and bringing it to your mouth. The texture is perfect, soft yet just a little crumbly. It’s comforting.

“It’s really good, Jamie,” you say, the words slipping out before you can think to second-guess them.

James’ face lights up at the compliment, and you can’t help but notice the way his shoulders seem to relax a little, like your approval matters to him more than you even realized.

“I’m glad you like it,” he replies, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

You laugh softly, the sound light and quiet in the stillness of the room. You feel a flutter of warmth in your chest at the ease with which they all care for you.

You take another bite of the banana bread, letting the sweetness melt on your tongue, and let yourself be. You know you’ll likely retreat again, but it’s nice to know they’ll be here no matter what.

masterlist <3

[ninjakittenarmy]

“Oh I have. Mostly about whether it technically makes them insects.”

The cat-girl cocked her head. “Eh?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. It was an understandable reaction, but the actual subject matter was so dumb that I was dreading explaining it.

“Since insects have six limbs, and so do centaurs, and these people were only ever taught that six legs equals insect, they ask centaurs if they count as insects.”

She was silent for a moment, staring at me in disbelief.

“But that’s so DUMB!”

“I know, right? A buddy of mine I’ve known since high school’s a centaur and he actually gets asked that a lot.”

“They don’t even have exoskeletons!”

“Yeah, and you have to have evolved in the class Insecta. It’s not just looks.”

She sighed. “I thought it was just us but I guess everyone gets dumb questions.”

“Sorry I brought it up” I said. “Didn’t mean to hit a sore spot.”

She shrugged. “It’s not too big a deal, I’m just not sure why so many people fixate on it. It’s really not that strange. The amount of times I’ve been asked why I have four sets of ears instead of big cat ears wrapped around the side of my head is mind boggling.”

I’ll admit I was having a hard time imagining that.

“In any case, the reason we were engineered like that is because cat ears and human ears don’t hear the same auditory spectrum, yeah? I don’t really know the details but the ear shape has a lot to do with it. With eyes, it’s easy, you just add all the color cones from cats and humans. With ears it’s tricky to make one that hears all the sounds cats and humans can pick up.”

“So they just give you a set of each.”

“Exactly!” she said, glad I was getting it so easily.

The waiter briefly interrupted us to bring our sushi platters. Her eyes turned into saucers.

“Oh my God that looks so good!”

“Right? This place has amazing sushi.”

She ate the platter with astonishing speed. She was done before I could even finish half of mine.

“Wow. You must’ve been starving.”

She nodded enthusiastically, then swallowed the last California roll.

“Oh yeah. Haven’t eaten in a few hours at least! We felinids gotta eat lots of meat.”

“For the eyesight, right?”

“Among lots and lots of other stuff yeah but our eyes need a type of protein that you can only get from meat. There’s a lot of stuff we can only get from meat actually. Having to explain that to the vegetarians is NOT fun.”

“Oof” I winced, already being familiar with the sort of vegetarian she was talking about.

“I think most of them get that we can’t eat like them, but some of them are just nuts. Complete zealots. Like, no, Makeighlyn, I can’t just eat soy. I know there’s protein in soy. It’s not the right kind.”

I chuckled at her name suggestion.

“There’s this one vegan lady who’s still mad at me for ah, ‘stealing’ her cat.”

She grinned mischievously.

“Ooh, do tell!”

“Right so I was cat sitting for her and I realized that Mittens wasn’t looking so hot. I couldn’t find any cat food around so I asked if she was out.”

“Oh brother” she said, already seeing where this was going.

“She says that she eats this veggie and tofu purée in the fridge. Now I already knew that this was bad. But I looked at this Tupperware and it was full of just, the foulest slop I have ever seen in my life. Like if you fed this to inmates in Texas, YOU would get the death penalty.”

She snorted, choking on laughter.

“So then you stole the cat?”

“Well here’s the thing, I didn’t steal anything! I called the police to see if the city’s animal cruelty laws covered this and wouldn’t you know it, they did. So we have this whole court battle and she throws a fit right in the courtroom about how the government was only punishing her because they were in the pocket of the meat industry.”

“Oh God.”

I laughed. “Yeah she said some of the wildest conspiracy theory bullshit I ever heard. She thinks that all animals-“ I cut myself off laughing” “That ALL animals naturally only eat plants and that we humans taught carnivores to eat meat.”

“Did ‘em a favor” she said.

I chuckled. “Does time for animal cruelty AND contempt of court. And obviously loses the cat. So I took her in and got her some actual, edible food. Edible for her I mean. Though it’s probably safer for human consumption than whatever that puree was.”

We continued talking for a while about various things. Biology, videogames, the anime that lead to her species’ creation, that sort of thing. A couple hours, a few orders of seafood dishes, and an expensive bill later, and we were ready to go. As we were packing up, she said something that caught me off guard.

“So… if you’re not busy later tonight, could I maybe drop by your place?”

I was taken aback and immediately flustered. I could feel the heat rising on my face.

“O-oh! I uh-I don’t really do that sort of thing” I said. I’m asexual you see.

Her face turned beet red at the implication she apparently just realized. “Oh no, I know! I saw you wearing that pride pin aways back! I ah, don’t really like that stuff either, truth be told.”

“Oh” I said, relieved. “So why ah, why this all of a sudden?”

She smiled bashfully, averting her eyes.

“I was kinda hoping I could… maybe meet your cat? I love cats.”

"Why do people find the 'four ears' thing to be so weird?" The cat-girl flicked her top pair back in annoyance. "Centaurs have six limbs and I've never seen anyone ask one of them about it."

[rainrot4me]

Girl dad Toby and my life is yours, PLEASE 🙏🏽

Totally panics when he finds out he’s having a girl. Like deer-in-headlights, thousand-yard-stare, muttering “I’m gonna screw this up, I know I’m gonna screw this up.”

“Wh-What if she ends up dating so-someone like me?” Cue him spiraling while you’re still holding the ultrasound picture.

Turns into an absolute marshmallow once she’s born. All that panic? Gone the second he holds her. His hands are shaky, jaw clenched—but when she curls her tiny fingers around one of his, he goes still. Quiet. Reverent. “She’s so… s-small. God, she’s mi-mine?”

Loves giving her piggyback rides because it makes her laugh so hard she snorts. Toby never thought laughter could be holy until he heard his daughter’s. She tugs his hoodie strings and calls him “daddyo” like it’s a superhero name.

Has zero patience for tea parties or dolls at first. He’s awkward, uncomfortable, and way too impatient to sit still and pretend the pink stuffed bunny is a queen. But the moment she says, “Daddy, will you be the dragon?” he drops to all fours and growls like a beast from hell. She shrieks with delight. It becomes their thing.

Teaches her to throw a punch. He’s gruff about it—“Fingers in, wrist straight, n-no weak shit”—but he’s also lowkey proud when she decks a punching bag with her tiny fist. He’s the kind of dad who will absolutely be at every self-defense session with Kate like: “She’s gonna kick eve-everyone’s ass, I’m so proud.”

Protective doesn’t even cover it. When she’s older and mentions a crush, Toby just glares. “A w-what? You like who? Wh-Who the fuck is that?” He’s a nightmare to her prom dates. Hoodie has to physically drag him away from the front door before he interrogates them with a hunting knife in hand.

But he’s not toxic protective—he wants her strong, not sheltered. He teaches her how to stand up for herself, how to use her voice, how to survive when the world’s mean. He just… also sharpens his hatchets more often when she starts high school.

Carries pictures of her everywhere—in his wallet, his phone, an old polaroid tucked in his gear. Won’t admit it, but sometimes he looks at them when he’s having a bad day. She’s his anchor.

Always wears the bracelets she makes him. Neon rubber, friendship bands, braided yarn with plastic beads that say “D-A-D.” Wears them like they’re war medals.

“If anyone makes fun of t-them, I’ll punch their teeth in.”

She’s the only one who can calm him down when he’s overstimulated. When the buzzing gets too loud and his brain won’t quiet down, she crawls into his lap and puts her little head on his chest and whines, “Breathe, daddy.”

And he does.

Does her hair like he’s disarming a bomb. It always ends up crooked, but she beams when he does it, so he keeps trying. He gets better. He watches YouTube tutorials. Eventually he starts adding little braids or ribbons, and he acts like it’s no big deal—but he’s so proud of himself he shows Hoodie the finished look every time.

Curses the first time she says she wants to be like him. Not because he’s mad—because it breaks him. “You don’t want that, girlie. Be be-better than me.”

“But you’re strong, and you never let anyone mess with you. That’s what I wanna be.”

He hugs her so tight he almost forgets he used to think he’d be a bad dad.

꩜ .ᐟ

[wendichester]

please!! dean x autistic reader that has an hyperfixation on cars and starts tweaking out when they see the impala for the first time, starting to drop informations about its history and other stuff abt it !! it would be so cute

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 car buff,

summary. dean had no clue you knew so much about cars. and oh boy, he's feeling it

pairing. dean winchester x autistic!reader genre. fluff

wordcount. 545

notes / warnings. reader with hyperfixation on cars (enthusiastic infodumping), slight awkwardness (canon-typical dean), soft boy dean trying to play it cool but melting, lots of car facts, nothing but vibes and serotonin

Dean’s halfway through filling the tank when he hears it.

“Oh my god, is that a ‘67 Impala?”

He turns. And then immediately stares.

You’re walking toward the car like it’s a religious artifact, eyes wide and shiny and locked on her like she’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen—which, honestly, fair. But Dean’s used to people ignoring the Impala. Or calling her a boat. Or saying she looks like a damn hearse.

Not this.

“You even have the original grille,” you’re saying, almost breathless. “Is that the factory paint or did you restore it? Oh my god, and the interior—wait, wait, are those bench seats?”

Dean blinks. “Uh… yeah.”

You drop into a crouch to look closer at the tires and start muttering under your breath like you're cataloging her specs. Which you kind of are.

Dean can’t help but grin. “You a fan?”

You pop up like you forgot he was there, eyes lit with excitement. “Fan is an understatement. This is THE car. Like—the car. It’s the holy grail of muscle. Four hundred twenty-seven cubic inches, V8 engine, 385 horsepower if you tune it right—and she’s got the bones for long-haul driving, which you never get in these classics.”

Dean lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed. “Most people just say she’s shiny.”

“Those people have no taste,” you shoot back, not missing a beat.

Dean laughs. He’s never heard someone defend Baby’s honor that fast. He likes it.

“You a mechanic or just real into old Chevys?”

“I mean—” You pause. “I’m autistic. Hyperfixated on cars since I was like, six. I used to fall asleep listening to my grandpa’s engine manuals. I can take apart a carburetor blindfolded. Tried to do it in eighth grade science class. Was not appreciated.”

Dean barks out a laugh. You beam, proud and not even a little embarrassed. It’s contagious.

“Name’s Dean,” he offers, tossing the gas nozzle back into the pump. “She’s mine. Fully restored her with my own hands. Most folks don’t even give her a second look anymore.”

“They’re fools.”

He points at you. “Exactly.”

You walk a slow circle around the Impala, reverent. “The chrome’s original, too, huh? You polish this, don’t you? Like religiously.”

Dean looks a little sheepish. “Every week.”

You glance up at him, a big, dorky smile on your face. “I think I love you.”

Dean chokes. “Sorry, what?”

You freeze. “Oh my god. Out loud. I said that out loud.”

You look like you’re about to self-destruct. Dean raises his hands quickly, chuckling.

“Hey, hey—it’s alright. I mean, you just met the real love of my life. Pretty sure you’re her type.”

You glance at the car. Then back at Dean. “So… do I get to sit in her or do I have to buy you dinner first?”

Dean grins, big and slow. “Tell you what. You let me take you to dinner, and I’ll even let you ride shotgun.”

You gasp. “With the windows down?”

Dean nods solemnly. “Cassette tape blasting. Bench seat privilege included.”

“Deal.”

You hold out your hand like it’s sacred, and Dean takes it, shaking with a smile.

Neither of you knows it yet, but this is absolutely going to become a love story.

It just starts with chrome.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[nakylvr]

— magnolia ✧ D.A

summary જ⁀➴ after two months of being engaged, there are more unexpected surprises that come in the form of two lines on a pregnancy test

warnings/tags જ⁀➴ fluff, dealer!dani au, f!reader, established relationship, pregnancy announcement

substance masterlist

based on this ask

to say you were panicking would be an understatement, because you were losing your shit, utterly and totally losing it. the past three days you woke up rushing to the bathroom to throw up, and you thought you were just sick. until you realized that you were late for your period. then, the panicking started.

you called megan on the fourth day while dani was out running errands, asking her to come over and make sure dani didn't know. she was confused, but she always listened. so within half an hour, she was sitting outside your bathroom.

when you told megan the reason you wanted her there, and showed the test in your hand, she understood why you were freaking out. it was understandable, it made sense.

she stood outside the bathroom while you did the test. both of you waiting anxiously for the results that would come. and when the results came, your heart dropped.

two lines. you were pregnant.

"meg?" you say loud enough for her to hear through the door, your voice cracking.

megan instantly opens the door, peeking her head through before slowly walking up to you. you don't say anything, instead just holding up the test towards her, and her eyes go wide.

"yn..." is all she can get out.

"what am i going to do?" your lip quivers as tears fill your eyes.

"everything's gonna be fine," megan says quickly. "you're gonna be fine. this is–this is a good thing, right?"

"i-i don't know," you answer honestly. "how am i supposed to tell her?"

"we'll figure it out." megan grabs your hand. "you don't have to tell her right now. just when you're ready."

you slowly nod, a few tears trickling down your cheeks. "i'm scared, megan." you whisper. "i'm so fucking scared."

"i know." megan crouches in front of you, wrapping her arms around you and hugging you. "everything is gonna work out, i swear."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

you were still hesitant on even telling daniela two days after you confirmed you were pregnant. you were terrified of her reaction and how she would go about it. there were hundreds of thoughts running through your head, and you didn't know what to do about it.

sitting on the couch with your hoodie on over your head, a blanket covering you, and multiple tissues around you, you were recovering from crying on the phone with megan. daniela was out on a deal, and you had maybe five more minutes before she would be back.

"it's gonna be fine, yn. seriously."

"i don't know, megan." you say quietly.

daniela unlocks the front door and takes a few steps inside, hearing you talking and assuming you were on the phone. she opens her mouth to say something, but freezes in her place at your next words.

"i mean, what if she doesn't want to keep it?"

daniela swears her heart drops to her stomach, but she tries to play it off. tossing her keys exaggeratedly on the counter and announcing her presence like she didn't hear you. "i'm back!"

you immediately hang up on megan when you hear daniela's voice, putting your phone down as she walks into the living room. she stops abruptly when she sees the state of you along with the tissues scattered around you, her eyebrows furrowed together in concern.

"are you okay?"

you meekly nod your head, fiddling with the sleeve of your hoodie that draped over your hands. daniela walks over and sits down beside you. she can tell you're lying, but she doesn't push it.

"so, what were you talking about me not wanting to keep?" she asks nonchalantly. "you didn't get a dog without asking me, did you?" she jokes.

you don't smile, you're not even looking at her when you quietly say the words. you can see her smile drop the second you say it.

"i'm pregnant."

there's a silence that fills the room. uncomfortable, awkward, the kind that hadn't happened in a while. you contemplate saying something else, play it off as a joke maybe. but daniela speaks first.

"are you serious?" she asks quietly.

you nod, feeling your throat close up. "i-i took a test a few days ago a-and it came out positive." you manage to get out. "i'm sorry for not telling you right away. i-i didn't know what to do."

daniela grabs one of your hands, bringing it up to her lips and pressing small kisses on your knuckles. "this is amazing, mi vida." she says softly. you finally look over at her, and your breath catches in your throat seeing the tears in her eyes. "this is amazing. i can't wait to start a family with you. i love you so much."

"really?" you let out, your voice barely above a whisper.

"of course," daniela says with a nod, grabbing your arm and pulling you onto her lap. she peers up at you with pure adoration and love in her eyes, and it makes tears fill your own. "i'm so happy. this is great. we're gonna have a family, and we're gonna be the best parents ever. i love you so much, so so much. and i'm going to be right here with you every step of the way. i promise." she presses a gentle kiss on your cheek that had a few tears trailing down.

a small smile grows on your face at her words, and you don't know why you were worrying in the first place. "i love you too. you're going to be great." you reply.

"you're gonna be even better." she smiles back at you. "i can't wait."

"yeah, me too." you smile, leaning in and kissing her.

[crunchystarz]

Hello! Yesterday (the 20th) was my 17th birthday, and I wanted to know how the house wardens would celebrate the reader's birthday. Feel free to ignore if you have done this in the past or don't feel like doing this one, no pressure!

How each of the housewardens celebrate your birthday hcs

Housewardens x GN!reader

CW: none just some short and fluffy headcanons, could be read as platonic or romantic

A/N: going to admit this is way shorter and way goofier than my usual stuff but we deserve a lil fun around here okay, I got to this a lil late lol but I get to post it on Kalims birthday so yay also happy late birthday anon I hope you enjoy (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

Riddle Rosehearts

*Riddle knows every birthday so of course that includes you. He was the first to wish you a happy birthday. Of course in typical Riddle fashion he was as formal and respectful as could be even if it was just a happy birthday.

* Riddle was in charge of setting up your party, it would be out of tradition if you didn't hold a party correct? So of course he set up a birthday party for you like he would an unbirthday party.

* He definitely makes sure everything is according to your liking and preferences no exceptions. He wants everything to go smoothly just for you and your big day. He even helped bake the cake with Trey (he got kicked out of the kitchen)

*Genuinely was stumped on what to give you and he even went to Cater for help. Thankfully his cheerful upperclassmen knew what might peak your interest.

* Riddle is all about rules so now you have to awkwardly sit as he has everyone sing you happy birthday because rules are rules. Sevens bless your soul

Leona Kingscholar

*Doesn't make a huge deal and throws you a casual "Happy Birthday" Doesn't mean he won't make you feel special by any means. It's your day and he'll make sure you enjoy it.

* Leona is the kind of guy who pretends to forget your birthday then brings in your gift immediately after. Speaking of gifts Leona isn't one to care enough to flex his money he won't get you anything super expensive but instead something that really means something to you.

*He won't throw you anything big like a party but he'll definitely hang around you all day "just cus" He'll offer to go out on the town or just to chill out in his dorm. Stealing you away from those loud mouths and giving you some peace and quiet. That's what he claims anywho.

*He's overall casual about it as he is most things but he still wants you to feel loved and appreciated so he does all the small things that'll make your day any better.

*A nice nap would be nice right? Come on relax you deserve it. Dragging you down to nap with him later in the evening.

Azul Ashengrotto

* Azul would try and offer you something nice either that being having the tweels be your personal butlers for the day(depending on Floyd's mood this Is either hell or a fun lil field trip) or he'll allow you to host a party at monstro longue free of charge. Not everything he does is for personal gain.

* Azul o sweet Azul had already planned out your present in advance. Deep behind his persona we all know he's just an awkward guy, he'd be so embarrassed and would feel a bit guilty if he didn't get you something you 100% liked. Thank you Jade for the research

*Constantly checking on you and everything going on because he has a reputation to uphold people!!(He just wants you to have a good birthday shhh)

Kalim Al Asim

*A big party.It's Kalim and what's one thing Kalim is known for? Parties, trust and believe he's going all out despite if you like big patties or not. He puts way too much time into planning it but at least you know he cares. It's like the complete opposite of Leona. Anything but chill and casual.

*He gives you way too many expensive gifts, could you even accept these? So much gold...damn nepo baby You're grateful nonetheless.

*Kalim makes sure Jamil makes all your favorite foods. He even offered to help but Jamil immediately shoots dow the idea of him being in the kitchen while he's working.

*Malik is following you around all day like a puppy he just wants to spend time with you honestly. It is your special day after all

*Magic carpet ride. Why? Because he wants to show you a whole new world (wink wink nudge nudge). Plus the sky is the best place to see the sunset. It'll be something to relax after a very hyper birthday.

Vil Schönheit

*You honestly think Vil forgot your birthday because he was so unusually quiet that it was until Rook is dragging you into a part of Pomefiore you haven't seen before and. SURPRISE!

*You didn't take Vil as one for surprises but here he is. A surprise birthday party just for you. Vil tells you to relax that he'll handle everything.

*Vil kinda guy to give you one of those gift baskets for your birthday and I've been standing of this thought since forever. Its full of your favorite things...and his skin care products.

*I also like the Idea of Vil treating you to a Spa day for your birthday. Again just relax and let Vil take care of you.

Idia shroud

*It takes so much effort for Idia to go outside and tell you happy birthday in person that's a birthday present in itself. He was just going to shoot you a happy birthday text and have Ortho give you the present he got you for him but he likes you too much so he supposed he could tell you in person...

*He is so awkward when giving you his gift you basically had to just take it from him because he was so scared you wouldn't like it or it wasn't going to be good enough. But he's so smug when you tell him you like it. Of course you'd like he Idia knows his player 2 more than anyone (he was terrified)

*On how he'd actually celebrate your birthday, he'd realistically do something super chill and preferably just the two of you like a movie night or just gaming. He's spending time with you regardless.

*He tries really hard to make it super special even if you two don't do much.

Malleus Draconia

*Malleus is so dramatic about your birthday. He's not Kalim dramatic but he almost gets there. There's no big party or anything but he's all over you.

*Like if he could actually work a phone like a normal person you'd get a text the second it strikes midnight with a really dramatic happy birthday text.(That or an ominous ass gif ) I Instead he's knocking at your window just to say happy birthday.

*A Picnic for your birthday is just so cute and simple and I think it's a Malleus thing to do. He'd do more but he was going over things with Lilia and according to this is the most tame thing on that list.

*Gift wise I think he'd give you a gem of some kind. He's a dragon fae and I feel like he'd give you something shiny like that as a birthday gift.

MASTERLIST

[runningracingdancingchasing]

She'd imagined sitting him down on the couch, maybe with some alcohol to make it all easier, imagined the lighting and how it would play on his features. But now they were in the kitchen, and the lighting was completely different, harsh and bright in comparison to her imagination. Well, that was on her. She was the one who'd started the conversation now instead of later.

Clearing her throat again, she found it hard to find her words, and even harder to look at him.

"I've been rehearsing this all day," she confessed with a little smile that didn't reach haunted eyes, toying with her own fingers while wishing she had Abraçinhos to hug. But he was in the living room, on the couch, where she'd meant to have this conversation. "But I can't seem to remember how it was going to go. Sorry if I'm about to ramble..."

Taking a deep breath, she thought through all of the myriad of rehearsals she'd gone through, then picked a place and started. Managing to look at him for a moment, she iterated, "Just know that I'm telling you this because you're my best friend and I trust you." That was very important. It was easy for Rapunzel to love. She loved her friends almost right away. But trusting people wasn't so simple. That probably had something to do with what she was about to tell him...

Okay, here we go. Just breathe and... start. "Okay, so the thing is... I can't remember anything about my past up until a few years ago," she explained softly, "and that's by design. Something... happened when I was little. I'm not sure exactly what, but I know it was traumatic. My therapist thought -- and I agree -- that if I want to function as an adult, I had to lock it all away. It was really the only way to move forward. But that's why there are things that basically everyone knows that I don't know anything about. Which is so frustrating and embarrassing, because I'm usually so smart!"

Even talking about it now, she could feel that locked closet of memories getting banged on from the inside, and her shame from not knowing how schools worked. Her focus started turning inward, a slippery slope to a bad night, even if he decided she was worth hanging onto. Without thinking, she got a glass of cold water and sat down at the table again, pressing the cool glass against her face and neck to keep herself in the here and now and with him.

"There are things I don't remember so much as feel. Echoes of a voice I can't identify or- or thinking someone's going to react negatively to something when no one with half a heart would. Sometimes... it's like a part of my brain is trying to remember the stuff I've deliberately forgotten, and the rest of my brain is trying to keep me from remembering. When that happens I just kind of... go away. Like, I'm there, physically, but my mind..." She paused to sip some water and ran her fingers idly over the place mat in front of her, taking in the texture as the cool drink soothed her throat, keeping her grounded. She surprised herself by the fact that she didn't feel like she was going to cry. Not yet. If he decided this was it, yeah, she'd spend the rest of the night crying. But not yet.

The more she thought about it, the more guilty she felt for being this way and subjecting him to her. Had she trapped him by asking him out before she told him this? But she was telling him now, and giving him an out, right? That was good of her, wasn't it? She liked him so much that she's was putting her biggest flaw right out there in the open and shining a light on it. If he couldn't handle it, well... she could just leave Rio after all.

God, she didn't want to leave Rio. Didn't want to leave him.

A sad, scared sigh escaped her. "I'm broken, Rai. I'm broken, and I don't know if I can ever be fixed all the way. I know I should have told you this before I asked you out, because you deserve to have an informed choice, to know what you're getting into, and I totally get it if... if it's too much. If it's a deal-breaker. I can be a lot as it is, and this is just... it's a lot more. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

And she really hoped he'd stay, despite it. And she was terrified he wouldn't. Her head and stomach swam unpleasantly, pizza and wine suddenly not seeming like such a good idea.

He'd busied himself washing out their wine glasses. Washing dishes was his least favourite of all chores - which he despised in general - but she'd gone through the effort to make dinner, and the least he could do was to help clean up.

He felt his shoulders tense a little as she spoke. Serious and important... Her tone and the entire vibe changed, and he tilted his head at her, a little furrow between his brows.

"Sure, girl." He set the glasses down and dried off his hands, leaning his hips back against the kitchen counter and folding his arms loosely. "What's, uh... what's up?" He deliberately kept his mind as blank as possible, refusing to jump to scary conclusions.

[opiumwings]

prank’d — sophia laforteza

– you pull a prank on sophia, telling her your ex texted you and you’re going to meet up with them – word count: 708 words

you walked into your shared bedroom to see sophia sprawled out on the bed, scrolling on her phone.

“hey babe, you remember yunjin?”

“the one that’s your ex?” sophia looked up, raising an eyebrow.

“yeah. she just texted me—wants to meet up for brunch.”

sophia paused, staring at you like you’d just told her something crazy, which you had. “we literally just had breakfast.”

“well yeah, but i haven’t seen her in a while,” you shrugged, heading to the closet.

“i didn’t even know y’all still talked,” sophia said, sitting up.

“we do sometimes,” you replied casually, flipping through hangers.

she tilted her head, eyes narrowing as she watched you search through your nicer clothes. “i just think it’s wild that this is the first i’m hearing about it.”

“i didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“so how long has this texting thing been going on?” she asked, arms now crossed.

“it’s really recent.”

“and that’s not weird to you at all?”

you waved her off. “she’s not like that,” you said, hiding your grin as you turned back to the closet, because honestly, you were about to start laughing.

you laid a silky dress on the bed, the kind you usually save for date nights, then grabbed your cutest sandals from the rack.

“wait—you're actually going?” sophia's voice pitched up, eyes wide in disbelief.

“umm, yeah? i told you i was.”

“wearing that?” her eyes darted between the dress and you.

“i wanna look nice,” you said with a smirk.

sophia went completely silent, processing everything you had just told her. you kept moving, pretending not to notice.

“okay…” she finally said, standing up. “then i’m going too.”

“huh?” you turned to look at her.

“i wanna meet her.”

“why? you don’t even know her,” you said, but she was already yanking open the other side of the closet.

“i just need to know why this girl thinks it’s okay to be asking my girlfriend out on a date like it’s not weird.”

“it’s not a date. it’s just brunch with a friend,” you said.

“‘just brunch with a friend,’” sophia mocked, yanking a dress off a hanger with unnecessary force. “there’s no way you actually think i’m buying that right now.”

“i don’t know why you’re so pressed. she’s my ex for a reason.”

“oh please. you’re putting on your best dress for this date, and i’m supposed to act like she’s not a threat?”

“you don’t have to be jealous,” you teased, finally letting your smile break through.

“okay, now you’re making me feel crazy,” sophia said, rolling her eyes.

that did it. you burst out laughing.

“what’s funny? i wanna laugh,” she snapped.

“i’m so sorry for doing this to you,” you said, walking over and pulling her into a hug. “i was just messing with you.”

you turned her toward the small camera strategically set up nearby. “say hi.”

sophia stared, blinking at the lens. “you stress me out,” she muttered, trying to push you away, but your arms stayed locked around her.

“i’m sorry! i wouldn’t actually go see her.”

“move. i don’t like you right now.”

“nope, you have to,” you said, still laughing.

you leaned in to kiss her. her lips were pressed in a firm line, but she didn’t move. and when she finally kissed you back, it was with a lot more fire than you expected. so yeah, definitely not mad anymore.

when the kiss broke, you grinned. “the girls are gonna love this video.”

“i’m glad you get along with them so well,” sophia said sarcastically, rolling her eyes again.

“we just have something in common,” you said, pressing another soft kiss to her lips.

“so, yunjin never texted you?”

“nope,” you shook your head. “haven’t heard from her since the breakup.”

“good. keep it that way.”

you kissed down her jaw until your lips brushed against her ear. “sophia… you’re the only one for me,” you whispered.

“of course i am,” she whispered back, voice low and sultry against your neck.

you walked her backward toward the bed, easing her down on top of the clothes you’d laid out.

“let me just remind you of that,” you said, climbing on top of her.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Keep You Company

steddie x fem!reader

Your best friends Steve and Eddie decide to make your night worthwhile when they see that you seem lonely at a party

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap before you tap it) fingering, oral (m receiving) choking, spanking

word count: 5,003

This idea was brought you by the lovely @n0t-even-try1ng-2 who was a winner of the 5k word fic contest! This one was so much fun to write and I really hope you enjoy it!

The party isn’t exactly what you’re expecting as you sit alone on the couch in the dingy basement. Everyone around you seems to be coupled up while you’re by yourself. You sip from the solo cup of the screwdriver Eddie made for you before leaving to make a deal. Now you have no idea where he is nor Steve. This is the first party you’ve been to as a newly single woman and now you’re debating on going home because this isn’t nearly as fun as you were promised that it would be. 

You’ve come to realize that you don’t really know anyone at this party besides Steve and Eddie. And you’re not exactly looking to meet anyone new even though that was the whole reason why you even came tonight. The whole idea intimidates you. And even though you told yourself you were going to move on from Steve and Eddie, you somehow can’t seem to get yourself to. 

Ever since your breakup with your boyfriend, you’ve felt isolated from your friends. They all took his side and when Steve and Eddie assured that they were going to be there for you, you knew you made the right choice in being friends with them. They’ve been there for you through all the tears and they both held you in your bed while the three of you watched your comfort movies. You’ve felt bad for hogging them the past few weeks so you demanded that they hang out with their other friends tonight. As you sit here alone, you’re starting to regret it. 

That is, when Steve drops onto the cushion to your left, Eddie to your right. Their thighs are pressed to yours and you can feel the heat emanating off their bodies. There’s something about this that feels so right but you’re too embarrassed to tell them that you’ve been feeling attraction for weeks. You’re sure it’s just you anyway. 

You have no idea that they know exactly how you feel. It’s obvious with the way you look at them, like they hung the moon. It’s sweet actually. You constantly bring them gifts and baked goods. Sure, you are just that sweet, but there’s clearly something romantic behind the whole thing.

You just can’t understand how either of them are single. It just doesn’t make any sense to you. Steve used to be “King Steve” who had all the women wanting him and you don’t know when it stopped, but now you never see him with anyone on his arm anymore. He’s so sweet and kind and you wonder when everyone stopped fawning all over him. And Eddie..that’s the biggest mystery of all. He’s such a sweetheart and you know people only dislike because he’s nerdy. And because he plays D&D, of course he’s the devil incarnate. But you guess that means there’s more for you, not that they’d be interested in you like that. You’re all just friends…right? 

You have no idea how badly they want you and they think it’s cute. They’ve talked about it on multiple occasions and decided that tonight is going to be the night where everything gets laid on the table. They know how badly you want them-it’s obvious. And they want to show you how much they like you. They want to make you feel special. They want to show you that you can be appreciated and that sex is supposed to feel good. You told them all about how your ex wasn’t able to please you in the bedroom and they fully intend on showing you how it’s done. 

Steve sees how you’re looking at the couple who’s at the fireplace. They’re making out and you’re looking at them longingly, like that’s what you want. He scoots close to you, his lips right by your ear as his arm rests on top of the back of the couch. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asks, his voice nothing but seductive so there’s not room for confusion. When he pulls back, you’re biting your bottom lip, nodding furiously. 

“Please,” you whine and he swears he feels himself getting hard at that. He takes your hand and helps you up from the couch while you grab hold of Eddie’s hand. The three of you make a beeline for the stairs, giggling as you head to Eddie’s van. 

You have an idea of where this is headed and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous. You’ve had a few sexual partners, but never two at the same time. It’s intimidating for sure, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited about the whole thing. 

You’re just glad you’re wearing the lacy set you just bought just in case you decided to take someone home. You’re not usually like this, but tonight, you want to do something impulsive. And you think that maybe fucking your two best friends is exactly what you need in order to finally get over your ex. And maybe you want to see if what the three of you have is more than just physical attraction. 

You all squeeze into the bench and the drive to your apartment seems like the longest ride of your life even though it’s only ten minutes. You can’t believe this is happening. After wanting both of them for so long, you finally get to have them. And they seem to really want you too. 

Steve has to admit that he’s a little nervous. He’s never had a threesome before and he’s about to have one with his best friends. It feels sort of weird but his excitement outweighs that. He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t been crushing on both of you for a while now. He’s only recently come out as bisexual so this whole thing is so new to him. 

Eddie, though, he’s been out for a while. He’s made his attraction to you very clear, but he reeled it in with Steve because he didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. When Steve came out a few months ago, he wanted to be honest with him, but decided he’d wait until he felt like the time was right. He’s thinking that maybe he should say something tonight.

He can’t stop thinking about the things he wants to do to the both of you. He’d never tell either of you that he’s gotten off to the idea more than once. It’s always the same with Steve fucking you while Eddie’s cock is in your mouth. And then they swap places and both have their way with you until you get tired and insist that they have some fun with each other. And he always comes just as the imaginary version of him gets on his knees for Steve. 

God, what he would give to be able to suck Steve’s cock. He can practically hear the whines that would fall from his lips. He can feel Steve’s hands in his hair, tugging on it as the breathiest moans leave his mouth. It would be so sloppy and needy and he can’t help but imagine what you’d do as you watched. 

He’s trying really hard to act normal, like he’s not about to cream his pants right now. He’s trying to think of something, anything to make him not think of those panties he got a glimpse of as he followed you up the stairs. 

Steve’s fantasies haven’t been hesy as filthy, but they’re still dirty enough for him to not want to tell either of you what they are. He imagines himself and Eddie on either side of you, both kissing your neck as they make a mess of your cunt. 

He can practically hear your moans as the fantasy plays in your head and he tries so hard not to let out a moan of his own. He doesn’t know if he really needs you that bad or if he just hasn’t been with anyone in a while. He’s pretty sure it’s the first one. 

You’re also doing your own fantasizing. But yours is probably the dirtiest of them all. You imagine them both hovering over you as they both fuck into you side by side, rough and hard. You can hear them calling you filthiest things. You want them to go so hard that you can’t walk for a week. 

Tension is high as the three of you walk up to your apartment. Steve is in front, you’re in the middle, and Eddie is behind. And he’s got a great view of your ass that he just wants to get his hands on. He’d spank you again and again as he pounded into you over and over, telling you just how much of a whore you are. 

If he wasn’t so scared of disrespecting you, he’d give your ass a hard slap just to see how you’d react. He wants to hear your little squeal and ask him to spank you again and again until your ass is numb. 

You turn to see him staring at your ass as you give it a little shake to tease him as you make your way down the hall. He stands behind you as you reach for your keys and gives your ass a little slap, unable to hold himself back anymore. You let out a little squeal like he expected and you turn around, your eyes lighting up with lut-almost if you want him to do it again. 

The three of you crowd around the door as you unlock it.

Well, try. It’s like everything is moving much slower as you unlock the door. You’re all just eager to get inside and have your way with each other. But the door lock seems to be stuck and you can’t seem to get it to unlock. 

Eddie has you step aside and you do so as he works on it, moving the key this way and that, doing things you wouldn’t even think of. It makes sense with his history of breaking in to places and hot wiring cars like his dad taught him. 

The lock finally clicks and you pull them both inside by their shirts as soon as it's open. You’re so nonchalant about the whole thing while they’re both nervous. You toss your purse onto the island in the kitchen as you kick off the shoes you’ve wanted to take off the whole night. 

Your feet are hurting and now you’re more desperate to get out of your clothes just because of how uncomfortable your bra and panties are. They look hot but that doesn’t make up for the fact that they’re both super itchy. The lace rubs you in all the wrong places and you’re just eager to get out of it for more reasons than one. 

You stand in front of them, letting them decide who makes the first move, but they just stare at you, eyes wide, like neither of them can believe what’s happening. Because they can’t. After waiting for what you think is too long, you move to stand in front of Eddie. You turn your back to him and make sure he’s able to see the zippedr of your dress. 

“Unzip me?” You ask, unable to see the blush creeping up on Eddie’s cheeks as he reaches up to grab hold of the zipper. He doesn’t know why doing this always makes him feel like a shy, awkward teenager again. He pulls it all the way down and pushes the press off your shoulders before pressing a kiss to one of them as your dress pools at your feet. 

You stand there, giving them a good look at your ass before you turn around to face Steve and Eddie and you can see lust filling their eyes as they take in your bra and panties. They’re thin and lacy, almost like you expected to get laid tonight. Well, your wish is their command. 

The three of you stand there awkwardly, waiting for something to happen. The three of you are entering uncharted territory and none of you are quite sure how to approach this next step. You’re all friends, but this is different. After tonight, you can never go back to the way you were. 

They wait for you to make the first move, not wanting to cross any boundaries. You make your way over to Steve, grabbing his face in your hands and pressing your lips to his. It starts out slow but quickly progresses to messy and sloppy, moans falling from both of your mouths. 

Eddie watches the whole thing without a single ounce of jealousy. In fact, he’s actually more turned on than he thought he’d be by watching his best friends make out. When your tongue slides into Steve’s mouth and you both moan again, Eddie feels himself getting hard just by seeing it. 

You break away when Steve’s really getting into it before heading over to Eddie, feeling bad for leaving him out. You’re more rough with him, knowing that he can take it. It’s much more heated than the one with Steve and he groans into your mouth as you palm him through his jeans. He’s straining, desperate for something. 

He backs you up to your couch, pieces of clothing dropping to the floor as they’re discarded. You’re pushed down onto the couch and Eddie drops to his knees in front of you as he pulls Steve down with him. 

“Let us worship you,” he says, more like a command and who are you to say no? This is everything you’ve wanted, right? The kind of thing you’d never admit you fantasized about even when your ex was inside you. It was the only thing that would get you through it and even then, you’d only be able to come when you imagined that he was either Steve or Eddie doing the work. 

“Please,” Steve begs and you nod as you watch Eddie pull down your panties. Once they’re off, he stuffs them into Steve’s pocket as they both spread your legs wide. 

You’re wet beyond belief, dripping onto the couch and even though they’re both eager to dig in, they decide to take their time. Whispering the most sweet words against your skin as they kiss up your legs and you suddenly feel like the luckiest woman in the world. 

Then it’s not so sweet as they absolutely devour you. Eddie goes for your clit while Steve is at your slit, both of them working you with their mouths as fingers slide inside. They’re curved and you already feel close to exploding as they hit just the right spot. You’re holding onto the couch cushion beneath you for dear life as they make an absolute feast out of you. 

When they start to bite down, your swear you see stars. You feel like you’re going to come any second by the sheer pleasure that’s coursing through you. People have eaten you out before, but never like this. This is greedy as they take and take, but you don’t mind. This is easily the best head you’ve ever received. 

When they swap places, your heels dig into their backs as you feel an orgasm approaching. They’re biting down harder as they get you there, fingers pumping harder, faster. You moan so loudly and they both swear it feels like a cry. 

As your orgasm courses through you, you think they’re done, but they don’t let up, Eddie’s tongue plunging deep inside you as he tries to get one last taste. It’s pushing in and out and you mewl again and again, another orgasm on the way as they both finally pull away from you. 

You’re a sweaty mess as they look at you, seeing how blissed out you already look and neither of them have even gotten inside you. They remove your legs from their shoulders and Eddie heads to the bathroom to retrieve a washcloth to clean up the mess as Steve is nothing but encouraging. 

“Did so good, honey,” he says, giving your thigh a squeeze as he speaks softly. You see that his free hand it’s still covered in your mess and now you’re wondering what it tastes like. Your mouth is watering as you begin to crave it, feeling his fingers in your mouth. 

Steve seems to sense what you’re wanting because he’s leaning up now, fully between your knees as he leans over you. His wet fingers hover over your mouth and there’s a drop that lands on your bottom lip. You’re quick to swipe your tongue slowly over your lip then part both of them as he slides his fingers inside. 

You watch him as you lick and suck, purposely making the most filthy sounds as you do so. Steve watches, lips parted as he watches you, knowing that this exact scene will replay in his head constantly for the rest of his life. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” 

Your cheeks heat at the compliment. At the way you’ve got this man literally on his knees for you. You’re convinced he’d do whatever you asked without question and he’d do it with that adorable, dopey grin on his face. 

Eddie comes back from the bathroom just as you release Steve’s fingers with a loud pop. Eddie cleans you up despite knowing that they’re just going to make more of a mess of you as the night goes on. 

You stand from the couch and Steve moves out of the way as you make a beeline for Eddie. You drop to your knees in front of him and he’s sure that this is the prettiest you’ve ever looked. You’re quick to unbuckle his belt, and before he knows it, you’re pulling his jeans down, his boxers quick to follow. 

He’s already hard beyond belief and you spit into your hand before grabbing him at the base. He knows this night was supposed to be about you, but he feels like it would be wrong of him to deny you the opportunity to return him the favor. 

You’re pumping hard and fast and he’s losing his mind as he watches you work. He’s been given many handjobs, but not like this. It always seems like they’re doing it because they feel like they have to. But you? You definitely want this. He can see it in your lust-filled eyes. 

You take the tip into your mouth and run your tongue over the slit before giving him a hard suck. He whines as his hands wind into your hair as Steve ties it back for you. You take Eddie deeper, inch by inch until your nose is pressed to his bush. 

Your tongue flattens against the underside stroking it as you get him fully into your mouth. You feel it hitting the back of your throat and gag, but you keep going, still determined to make him come. He’s so close you can feel it. 

“Just like that,” Steve encourages. “Look at how crazy you’re making him.” 

You look up and his head is thrown back, his eyes shut tight as he lets out moan after delicious moan. This might be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. You give him a few more sucks and peek up at him through your lashes. Watching him come, feeling him leak out into your mouth feels so rewarding because you were the one to do it. 

You stand to your feet and force him to look you in the eye so he can watch you swallow. His eyes darken as he sees your throat bob, pushing your mouth open to see that you really did swallow. 

“So fucking hot,” he rasps as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in for another heated kiss. It’s just as hot and messy as the other one and his tongue slides into your mouth. You moan as it roams your mouth, his rock hard, wet cock pressing against your stomach, showing you just how badly he wants you. 

“Please let me fuck you,” he whines and it’s the most pathetic you’ve ever seen anyone. You feel bad for letting Eddie have all the fun but you swear that you’ll make it up to Steve after. 

You pull both of them into your room and push Eddie down onto your bed. Watching him sprawled out like that, begging for you to use him in any way you want-you don’t think you’ve ever been more turned on in your life. 

Steve helps you take off your bra and you both join Eddie on the bed. Steve is quickly stripping down as you straddle Eddie’s waist, taking no time to top him. You don’t move yet, leaning down and kissing him first, wanting to warm him up before you completely ruin him. 

Your fingers tangle in his hair and he has no idea how he’s going to move on from him-from tonight. He doesn’t think he ever will. This is going to replace the scenario he’s cooked up in his mind. Seeing you here and now, straddling him as you kiss him as your life depends on currently tops the fake version of you he sees every night. 

Not only are you real, but you actually respond to him. You make him feel good. You make him feel alive. You pull away and rest your hands on his shoulders as you begin to ride him. It’s fast and hard and you’re both moaning loudly as you work together, his hips bucking against yours. 

Steve thought he would feel left out, but he doesn’t at all. He knows he’ll get his turn and there’s just something about watching his best friends fuck that makes him feel something. The way you’re both moving, the delicious sounds falling from each of your mouths. It’s all just so hot. 

He’s fisting his cock as he gets even harder, needing some release. He pumps and pumps, trying to match the pace that you’re going, imagining it’s your hand that’s doing all the work. 

The bed starts to shake and squeak underneath Eddie as you’re both moving fast and hard. So loud that you’re sure that the police will be knocking on your door with a noise complaint at any second. 

“Fuck,” is all he’s able to say, so fucked out already even though you’ve barely done anything. His nails scratch down your back and the way you moan only makes him and Steve need you even more. Eddie’s close, you can feel and Steve’s not that far behind. But you’re far from done. 

Your hand grabs hold of Eddie’s neck, unsure of what you’re doing, but it just feels right. You’ve never choked anyone, especially not in a sexual context, but Eddie seems very into it. So you squeeze and squeeze, watching his eyes widen. You continue to fuck him senseless as you squeeze harder and harder until he can’t even speak. Even then, it’s almost like he wants more. 

But as his face turns bright red, you decide to let up, but still keep your hand on his neck. He’s close and you watch him cum and you still continue to ride him, trying to reach your own orgasm. He’s still thrusting as he leaks inside of you, trying his best to get you there. 

“Shit, sweetheart,” he breathes as he lies back on the bed, watching you come not long after he does. His name falls from your lips and he’s sure that it’s the prettiest sound you’ve ever made. 

You climb off him and collapse onto the bed next to him as Steve reaches his own climax, leaking out all over himself and the bed before hurrying to the bathroom to clean himself up. 

You feel bad that he’s been pushed to the side and are not determined to make this the best fuck of his life. It’s what he deserves for being such a good boy. For being so patient. 

Steve takes a little longer in the bathroom, fixing his hair as well as cleaning himself up. He doesn’t know why he’s so focused on his hair when you’re just going to mess it up. Truthfully, he’s just nervous. More so that he thought he’d be. You’re his best friend so this feels weird for him even though he’s dreamed about this very thing for so long. He’s just worried he’s going to screw it up. 

He opens the bathroom door and steps out into the room, his eyes widening as he sees you on your knees at the end of the bed. You’re moaning loudly as you play with your nipples and god, does he want that to be him. 

You reach out for his hand and he lets you pull him forward. You guide it your chest and he hesitantly lets his hand rest on your tit. He seems nervous and you want to do what you can to help make him feel more comfortable. 

“You can touch me, Stevie,” you whisper and look around the room before spotting Eddie smoking a joint. He offers it to you before taking a drag and you take it from him. 

“Open your mouth,” you tell him and you take a drag from the joint before pressing your lips to his, blowing the smoke into his mouth. You pull away far too soon but he chases your lips, capturing them between his. It’s slow and sloppy and he seems to be much more confident. 

He licks into your mouth as his fingers tweak your nipples, turning them this way and that and you whine into his mouth in response. He leans you back, kissing his way down to your neck, giving it a suck. You’re so overstimulated but you don’t dare ask him to stop because it just feels so good. 

He bites down on your neck and you gasp, feeling even more wet, more needy for him. He bites again and again, making you moan even louder. He kisses his way down your body as he lays you down on your bed. 

He’s hovering over you with the joint in his mouth and Eddie is quick to take it from him, giving it one more drag before stubbing it out. He’s at your side just like Steve was, just in time to watch Steve pound into you again and again. 

His hands grab yours as he watches you come undone underneath him. The bed is squeaking once again and all that can be heard besides the sounds you’re both making is the sounds of slapping skin. He’s fucking you so hard, so deep inside you that you can practically feel him in your stomach. 

He’s moving fast and hard, which is so unlike him but he’s so eager to please that he’ll do whatever he thinks you want. This isn’t about him anyway. He just wants to make you feel good. 

“Fuck, this is so good,” Eddie whines. “So hot. Harder, Steve. I want to see her come undone.” Steve listens, somehow going even harder and you’re struggling to keep up, clenching around him as you cry on his cock. 

You never imagined sex with Steve to be like this. You always pictured soft and sweet but you’re definitely not hating this. He’s just so good at it, always somehow knowing exactly what you want without even having to ask. But you’re pretty sure that’s only because you’ve been friends for so long. 

His hands tighten their grip on yours as he fucks into you even faster, seeing that you’re starting to slur, your hips slowing their pace. But you snap yourself out of it, trying to keep up with him despite being so tired. Your hips buck against his over and over until you feel another orgasm rising. 

This is the biggest one yet and Steve’s not that far after you, still fucking into you to see if he can get one more out of you, but he can tell that you don’t have any more left in you. So he pulls out once he comes down and the three of you lie there on the bed, all thinking about what’s just happened. 

You can’t believe you just fucked both of your best friends and are already craving more. You even sucked one of them off and let them both eat you out. You know that this is just going to be a one-time thing but now you’re craving more. You want this to be a regular thing even though you’re terrified to ask. You know they were just doing it to be nice and you’re just willing to take whatever you can get. 

Steve can’t believe he just did that. He’s never fucked anyone in that way before. It’s always so gentle but he felt like trying something different. And he liked it. So much so that he almost wants to ask if you want to go for another round. But when he turns to his right, he sees that you’re fast asleep. 

Eddie and Steve watch you in admiration, both still wondering how they should approach telling you that they want you. Even after tonight, they’re sure that they could do this every night for the rest of their lives and be happy. 

Eddie watches your lips part and still thinks about how good that blow job was. Definitely the best he’s ever had and how is he supposed to let anyone else suck him off knowing that none of them will ever compare to you? 

In fact, he’s not sure he wants to have a sexual partner that’s not you nor Steve but that seems to be a conversation for another day. You’re all clearly fucked out and just need some sleep. 

So Eddie and Steve pull the covers over you before climbing into bed on either side. They both drape an arm over you before you all drift into the best sleep you’ve ever had.  

[belli5]

Miss Cougar .ᐟ ೀWS²

╰ Synopsis An older reader falls for golden boy Will Smith, the younger hockey player who’s utterly devoted to her, soft, loyal, and eager to please. She didn’t mean to fall..but did.

Tags/contains Fluff, Will Smith x Older!fem!reader. Age gap(in my mind it’s two years), older reader, mutual pining, soft possessiveness.

➺ from Sera, to you 📨. Had too much fun with this lol😭

masterlist ᥫ᭡ please reblog this fic if you enjoyed it! Please do NOT rewrite/repost my work anywhere else without permission!

You were just doing your job, working PR, helping set up the media day table for the rookies, sipping lukewarm coffee and flipping through player bios like it wasn’t your fifth time memorizing their junior league stats.

But then Will Smith walked in, blonde hair a little messy like he didn’t even try, baby blue eyes scanning the room like he didn’t quite belong yet. His jersey hung a little loose on his shoulders, but there was an easy confidence to his posture that told you he knew exactly who he was.

Nineteen. Maybe twenty now, barely an adult. Way too young for you, and younger guys weren’t even your type.

You were twenty-two, barely older, sure, but the kind of older that makes you feel like a grown up next to a college freshman. He shouldn’t have even registered as a blip on your radar.

Except he did.

You were halfway through explaining to another staffer where to place the Sharks backdrop when he stopped in front of your table, holding a clipboard and grinning like he’d just won something. “You’re the PR person, right?”

You blinked. “I am.”

“I’m Will,” he said, like you didn’t already know. “Will Smith.”

The corner of your mouth tugged upward. “Yeah, figured that much. It’s on your name tag.”

He glanced down, laughed, boyish and unbothered. “Right, forgot I had that on.”

And just like that, you were sunk. Not all the way, just enough to start paying more attention to the way he said thank you, how he called you ma’am, how he kept stealing glances at you during the photoshoot like you wouldn’t notice.

You told yourself it was harmless. Just a crush—his crush.

He hovered near your table more than he needed to, always needing a new pen, or another form, or an excuse to talk to you about something completely irrelevant.

“Is it weird if I ask what coffee you’re drinking?” he asked once, resting his forearms on your desk like he belonged there.

“It’s not weird if you ask to get me one.”

He smiled. “Noted. I’ll bring you one next time.” And he did, for weeks.

Every morning of training camp, there was a new coffee sitting on your desk with a note scribbled in messy handwriting: “Hope this is the right kind.”,“You looked tired yesterday. (Not in a bad way.)”, “You smile more when you’re caffeinated.”

You kept the notes. That was the first sign you were slipping.

The second sign? You stopped saying “he’s too young” in your head.

You kept reminding yourself that he was younger, that he still said things that he saw on instagram reels or on tiktok unironically. That he didn’t even have a full grasp on how taxes worked, but then he’d smile at you like you were the only person in the room, or he’d ask how your day was going and actually listen and suddenly his age didn’t seem like such a big deal.

The first time he asked you out, you laughed.

Not because it was funny, but because it felt ridiculous. Like this golden retriever of a man thought he had a shot with someone who read financial reports for fun and had a skincare routine that cost more than any man would understand.

“You don’t actually want to date someone older,” you told him flatly.

He tilted his head. “Why not?”

“Because you’re still figuring yourself out. You’ve got.. things to do, a whole NHL career to build.”

He shrugged. “Can’t I do all that and like you at the same time?”

The worst part? He meant it. His voice was quiet, no smugness, no joking, just him looking at you with those wide blue eyes like you’d hung the moon.

You told him no. But you also told him, “Ask me again when you’ve made the roster.” It was a joke, you didn’t expect him to remember, but he did.

Two months later, after a Sharks home opener, you found him waiting in the hallway with two redbulls in hand and that same grin he always wore when he saw you. “So…” he said, holding one out. “I made the roster.”

Your stomach did a funny little flip. “That doesn’t mean anything,” you said, but your voice was softer than it should’ve been.

“Doesn’t it?”

You took the redbull, your fingers brushing his, and that was the third sign. The one that felt different than the rest.

Because you started to imagine it, what dating him might be like, what it’d feel like to kiss him, to pull him down by the collar of his jersey and have him say things in that voice that got a little raspier every time he was nervous.

You hated yourself for thinking about it. You hated even more that you started to hope he’d ask again, but he didn’t, not right away and that made you feel.. weird.

He gave you space, even when you caught him looking at you during team events, or cracking jokes that made you smile when you were trying to be serious. He never pushed, never got impatient.

That’s what got you, in the end. Not the hair, not the eyes, not the way he fit into his game day suit just a little too well, I mean that too but It was the way he respected your no, but made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere.

It was when the new season just had started, two months ago.

You were organizing interview slots at the practice rink, annoyed at everything and running on four hours of sleep. Will had just finished morning skate and walked over, towel around his neck, cheeks flushed from the cold. “You okay?” he asked, nudging your elbow gently.

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “Just tired.”

He didn’t say anything just grabbed the clipboard from your hand, squinting at the slots like he could actually help. “You forgot to schedule yourself a break,” he said.

“I don’t get breaks,” you muttered.

“You do now.” And then, God help you, he pulled out some candy he had from his jacket pocket and handed it to you without fanfare.

Like he knew you hadn’t eaten, like he’d planned for this exact moment, it wasn’t a lot, but it’s the little things that make you happy. “You’re ridiculous,” you mumbled, trying not to smile.

He bumped your shoulder lightly. “You’re welcome, ma’am.”

That was the fourth sign, which you didn’t even pretend to hate it.

It didn’t start with fireworks.

There was no dramatic kiss in the rain, no impulsive declarations. Just a quiet evening, two texts exchanged, and the simple moment when you looked at his name on your screen and realized, yeah. You wanted to see where this could go.

He picked you up two days later.

He was wearing a navy sweater that clung to his arms just enough, jeans that still had a fold line like they were fresh out of the dryer, and that nervous little smile that tugged at his mouth whenever you looked at him too long. “I wasn’t sure if you’d actually say yes,” he admitted, holding the car door open for you.

You’d smiled back, the corner of your lip quirking. “I wasn’t sure either.” But you went and then you went again and before long, it became something regular, easy and surprisingly solid.

No one said “boyfriend” or “girlfriend” for a while, but he started showing up with your favorite drinks, started memorizing every single detail, started pulling you gently into his lap during movie nights like he couldn’t help it.

You didn’t mean to fall for him, but he made it impossible not to.

Now, a few weeks in, you were curled on your couch, legs draped over his lap, flipping through a book while he scrolled through his phone like he didn’t have a single worry in the world.

Will’s hand rested on your thigh absentmindedly, tracing slow circles with his thumb over the fabric of your shorts. His eyes were on his screen, but he’d tilt his head every few minutes like he was waiting for you to tell him to do something, like he wanted you to.

You weren’t used to that, someone listening without being told twice. Someone who liked being told what to do, in a way that wasn’t needy, just.. eager.

“Can you get me a water?” you asked, without looking up from the page.

Will was already halfway to the kitchen before you finished the sentence. He came back, twisted the cap off, and handed it to you like it was nothing, like it was normal to treat you like this.

You took a sip and raised an eyebrow. “It’s cold. You picked from the back of the fridge.”

He gave a crooked smile, scratching the back of his neck. “Didn’t think you’d want a warm one.”

“Thank you, baby.” you said, letting your fingers brush across his jaw before going back to your book.

He flushed just a little and you saw it. The power you had over him was almost criminal. Not because you tried, God, no. But because he gave it so freely, because something in him liked it.

You kept reading for another minute, pretending not to notice how quiet he’d gone. Then, without warning, you shifted your legs, straddling one of his thighs and settling in like it was your seat.

Will froze under you for a second. Then relaxed, like he always relaxed under you. Your hands found the collar of his hoodie, playing with the soft hem near his collarbone. “You’re not going out with the guys tonight?” you murmured, feigning casual.

“Don’t want to,” he said simply. “Want to stay here, with you.”

You bit your lip. “You always listen this well?”

His hands landed on your hips, light and respectful even though he clearly could’ve pulled you in harder if he wanted. “Only for you, ma’am.” he said, barely above a whisper.

You didn’t react right away, just let it hang in the air, warm and heavy between you both. You weren’t even sure he realized he’d said it, sometimes it just slipped out of him, like instinct.

You trailed your fingers down his chest and sat back just slightly. “You know you don’t have to call me that,” you said softly, not mocking, just observing.

“I know,” he replied, eyes dropping to your mouth. “But I like it.”

[tinyshyteacup]

Taglist: @kellynickelsgirl00 @dixonsbridexx @yikes-myguy @blackwidownat2814 @euqsia @lliteratii @imadisneyprincessiswear @satata @smashleywow @misspendragonsworld @captain-shannon-becker @i-doutt-it @bookies16 @brianna-merlim @staley83 @oceanticspace @insaneintheemembranev2 @dummylovewp @xmiaacxio @meyukoo @grilka @itsgivingdepression @timebomb1101 @inejghafasdagger @koshkahhh @juliperezsilveira @pandaofsilentdeath @straw--b3rry @nynxtea

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TW: Cussing, Walkers (Zombies), Negan is a Villan, SA (Implied, offscreen), PTSD symptoms, threats of violence, fighting walkers, fighting people.

Part 49

Dead Weight - Part 50

The weeks leading up to this moment have been a blur of preparation and planning. You've been hitting Savior outposts with the group, each successful raid building toward some kind of final confrontation. But despite the progress, despite the victories, you can feel the weight of everything pressing down on you.

You check your weapon for the hundredth time.

Daryl hasn't left your side much during the planning sessions. You catch him watching you constantly, ready to step in at the first sign of distress. It's protective and suffocating all at once.

She's stronger now, he tells himself, watching you interact with Jesus and Aaron. But she still gets that look sometimes. Like she's somewhere else, Somewhere bad.

The trash people Rick has made a deal with make your skin crawl. There's something about their broken speech patterns and strange mannerisms that sets your teeth on edge. When Jadis speaks, you find yourself moving closer to Glen unconsciously.

"They're... odd, right ?" you whisper to him during one of the planning sessions.

"Odd doesn't cover it," Glen mutters back, and you're grateful he doesn't ask why they bother you so much. The truth is, their unpredictability reminds you too much of Negan's psychological games.

But Rick seems confident in the alliance, so you push down your unease and focus on the plan. The Sanctuary assault is just weeks away, and every detail has to be perfect.

Maps are spread across the surface, marked with red X's indicating what was once Savior outposts, and the tension in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife.

You sit beside Daryl, close enough that his knee brushes yours under the table. He's positioned himself between you and the door, a habit he's developed since your escape from the Sanctuary weeks ago.

She's still jumpy, Daryl observes, noting how your fingers tap nervously against your leg whenever someone raises their voice. Hate seein' her like this.

"The last satellite outpost is here," Rick says, pointing to a mark on the map, "that's our best starting point. We take it out, use the cars to lead a herd to the Sanctuary compound."

"Walker herd that size could take out half their defenses," Michonne adds, leaning forward. "Force them to use ammunition, weaken their position."

Jesus nods in agreement. "The Saviors have gotten comfortable. They're not expecting coordinated resistance."

"Good," Glen says, his voice hard. "They deserve everything that's coming to them."

Daryl's jaw clenches as the discussion continues, his protective instincts on high alert every time someone's voice gets too loud or aggressive.

"We hit them fast and hard," Aaron suggests. "Multiple assaults. Confuse them, divide their forces."

"They won't be expecting it from Oceanside either," Eric adds. "Most of them probably haven't realized we're working together yet."

The conversation grows more heated as details are hammered out. Voices rise, fists pound on tables, and the aggressive energy fills the room like a living thing.

But before he can suggest a break, you surprise everyone by speaking up.

"Wait," you say, your voice cutting through the heated discussion. "Just... wait a minute."

Everyone turns to look at you, and Daryl sees you steel yourself against the attention.

"There are ordinary people in there," you continue, your voice growing stronger. "People who didn't choose this life, who are just trying to survive."

Rick's expression softens slightly. "We know there are workers, people who—"

"No, you don't understand." You take a shaky breath, and Daryl instinctively leans closer, ready to step in if you need him to. "His wives. Negan's wives. They're not there by choice. They're there because they had to be."

The room goes quiet, and Daryl feels his chest tighten, with rage.

"They're like me," you whisper, and the words hit the room like a physical blow. "Put in terrible situations to protect the people they love. To keep them alive. They didn't choose to be there any more than I chose to..." You trail off, unable to finish the sentence.

Michonne's voice is gentle when she speaks. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying we have to help them. The ordinary people living under his rule. They're victims too, not willing participants." Your hands are shaking now, but you press on. "When we do this, when we fight back, we have to remember that not everyone in there is our enemy."

The weight of your words settles over the group. Jesus is the first to nod.

"She's right. Any action we take has to account for non-combatants."

"That makes things more complicated," Michonne points out, but her tone isn't dismissive.

"Good things usually are," Rick says quietly, looking at you with something like pride in his eyes.

Then someone shouts from outside "Negan's here!"

The words hit you like a physical blow. Your chest tightens, and you have to focus on breathing as panic threatens to overwhelm you.

Not now.

Not when everyone needs to be strong.

Daryl immediately moves to your side. "Y'okay?"

"Gotta be" you say, but your hands are shaking.

You position yourself where you can hear the conversation between Rick and Negan, forcing yourself to listen despite every instinct screaming at you to run.

"Well, well, well," Negan's voice carries over the gate, that familiar mocking tone that makes your stomach turn. "Rick, my friend. I think we need to have a little chat."

Don't throw up, you tell yourself. Don't give him the satisfaction.

Daryl's hand hovers near your elbow, not quite touching but ready to offer support.

M'gonna put a bullet through his skull. He thinks to himself.

The conversation continues, Rick trying to maintain control while Negan plays his psychological games. Then Negan moves toward a casket.

"I brought you something," he says with theatrical flair. "Oh and ... Just because I brought her in a casket doesn't mean she has to leave in it."

Rick's eyes dart to Jadis, standing with her trash people in formation. Something feels wrong. The way she's positioned them, the slight smirk playing at her lips.

"Jadis," Rick says quietly, not taking his eyes off Negan. "Remember our deal."

Jadis tilts her head, that familiar bird-like movement. "We take. We keep. We decide." Her voice carries that strange, clipped cadence. "Decided different now."

The casket opens, and everything goes to hell.

Sasha emerges as a walker, lunging at Negan with the fury of the undead. In the chaos that follows, the trash people reveal their true allegiance, turning their weapons on your group instead of the Saviors.

"Now!" Jadis barks, her voice cutting through the gunfire. "Take! Take them all!"

The trash people move with mechanical precision, their weapons swinging toward Alexandria's fighters. One of them, the man with the wild hair, grins as he aims. "We deal. Better deal now."

Rick dives for cover, shouting over the chaos. "Jadis! We gave you what you wanted!"

"Wanted more," she calls back, her tone almost conversational despite the violence erupting around her. "He give more. We take more."

Negan, having narrowly avoided Sasha's walker form, laughs with genuine delight. "Oh, Rick! Did you really think these bargain-basement post-apocalyptic performance artists were gonna stay loyal to you?"

Jadis nods approvingly at Negan's words. "Wise man. Knows how to deal proper."

Another trash person, weapon trained on you, speaks in their distinctive broken rhythm: "Sorry. No sorry. New deal now"

"Get down!" Glen shouts, pulling you behind a wall as gunfire erupts around you.

You find yourself fighting back-to-back with Glen, just like old times, your weapons moving in practiced synchronization. Despite everything you've been through, the muscle memory is still there.

Daryl takes down two trash people with his rifle. Where the hell is she? Can't see her in all this mess.

You spot Carl taking cover behind a fence, and every protective instinct you have flares to life. He's seventeen now, more than capable of handling himself, but you've been watching him since he was eight years old.

"Carl!" you shout, providing covering fire as you move toward him. "This way!"

A Savior appears from around the corner, rifle raised and aimed at Carl's back. Without thinking, you tackle the teenager to the ground just as the shot rings out, the bullet whistling over both your heads.

"I had it!" Carl protests, but there's gratitude in his eyes.

"I know you did, Little Mister" you say, helping him to his feet. "Doesn't mean I'm going to stop trying to keep you safe."

As you notice you know have to look up to meet his eyes you realize you might have to rethink that nickname you gave him.

The battle rages on, but slowly the tide turns against you. One by one, your people are forced to their knees at gunpoint. You find yourself kneeling in the dirt beside Daryl, Negan's people surrounding you with smug satisfaction.

Negan walks the line of prisoners like he's inspecting merchandise, Lucille resting casually on his shoulder. When he stops in front of Carl, your blood turns to ice.

"Well, Carl," Negan says with false affection. "Look. At. You. Almost a man now. Almost."

The bat rises slightly, and you fight the urge to vomit. The memory of Abraham floods back, the sickening sound of Lucille connecting with skull and bone.

Not Carl, you think desperately. Anyone but the kid.

"You know what I think?" Negan continues. "I think it's time for another demonstration. Show your daddy here what happens when people don't follow the rules."

"Please," the word slips out before you can stop it, barely a whisper but loud enough for Negan to hear.

His head turns toward you like a predator scenting prey, and that familiar, nauseating smile spreads across his face.

"Well, well. Look who we have here." He moves toward you with slow, deliberate steps. "Hello, sweetheart. Miss me?"

Don't react, you tell yourself. Don't give him anything.

But your body betrays you, trembling visibly as he crouches down to your level.

"You know, I've been missing you," he says, his voice dropping to that intimate tone that makes your skin crawl. "Maybe it's time I took you home where you belong."

Gonna rip his goddamn throat out with my bare hands, Daryl thinks, every muscle in his body coiled like a spring.

"What do you say, sweetheart?" Negan continues, reaching out to touch your face. "Ready to come back home to your husband ?"

You jerk away from his touch, and he laughs.

"Playing hard to get? That's alright. I like a little fight in my wives."

The word hits Daryl like physical blows. Wives. Like you're nothing more than property. Like what he did to you was his goddamn right.

The tension crackles in the air as Negan circles Carl like a predator, Lucille gleaming with dried blood in the afternoon sun. The bat feels heavy in his hands, familiar and deadly.

"You know what, kid?" Negan's voice drops to that dangerous whisper that's gotten so many people killed. "I think it's time we wrapped this up." He raises Lucille slowly, savoring the moment. "Your old man's gonna wish he never crossed me when he sees what's left of his boy."

Carl doesn't flinch, his one good eye staring defiantly up at the man who's terrorized his family for months. "Go ahead," he says, voice steady despite everything. "Do it."

Negan's grin widens. "Oh, I like you, kid. Too bad you're gonna be—"

A roar erupts across Alexandria's courtyard. Not human - something deeper, more primal, like nothing that belongs in this broken world.

"What the hell—" Simon starts to say, his weapon swinging toward the sound, but the words die in his throat as Shiva explodes through Alexandria's gates.

The tiger moves like death incarnate, her massive 400-pound frame launching through the air with impossible grace. A Savior - one of the newer recruits who joined for the easy pickings - has exactly enough time to scream "Oh shit!" before Shiva's claws rake across his chest, tearing through cloth and flesh like paper.

The impact sends him sprawling backward, his assault rifle clattering away across the pavement. Shiva follows him down, her massive jaws clamping around his throat with a wet, crushing sound that makes even hardened Saviors step back in horror.

"Jesus Christ," Daryl breathes, watching in horrified fascination as the tiger's powerful muscles work. Blood sprays in arterial spurts across the dusty ground, painting the asphalt crimson as Shiva shakes her massive head back and forth. The Savior's legs kick frantically for a few seconds, then go still.

But Shiva doesn't let go immediately. Her wild instincts have taken over completely, and she continues to worry the corpse like the apex predator she is, ensuring her kill is thoroughly dead.

"ALEXANDRIA WILL NOT FALL!"

King Ezekiel's voice booms across the chaos as he strides through the gates, his theater training projecting every syllable with royal authority. Behind him, Kingdom fighters pour into Alexandria like an avenging army - men and women with makeshift armor and fierce determination, ready to die for their allies.

"Not today! Not ever!" Ezekiel continues, drawing his sword with a flourish that would look ridiculous from anyone else but somehow fits him perfectly. "For we are the righteous, and the righteous will prevail!"

"Fuck yeah, Kingdom!" Glen shouts from his position, raising his rifle as hope floods through him for the first time in hours. The reinforcements they'd desperately needed have arrived at the perfect moment.

The Saviors, who moments ago had been confident in their overwhelming numbers, suddenly find themselves caught in a nightmare. Half their attention is on the very real tiger currently mauling their comrade, while Kingdom fighters engage them from multiple directions.

"Fall back! Fall back!" Simon screams, but his voice is nearly drowned out by gunfire and shouting.

You scramble for your weapon where it fell during the initial chaos, muscle memory and adrenaline taking over as training kicks in. Your hands find the familiar grip of your rifle, and you're firing before you're fully conscious of the decision, putting rounds center mass into a Savior who's trying to flank Ezekiel's people.

The courtyard has become a war zone. Muzzle flashes light up the growing dusk as Kingdom fighters press their advantage, using the confusion and terror caused by Shiva's arrival to devastating effect. The tiger has moved on from her first kill, now stalking another Savior who's backed against a wall, whimpering.

"Please, please, I got kids—" the man starts to beg, but Shiva's not interested in negotiations. Her massive paw swipes across his midsection, claws tearing through fabric and flesh with wet, tearing sounds that make your stomach turn even after everything you've seen.

Negan, for the first time since you've known him, looks genuinely rattled. His cocky grin has vanished, replaced by the calculating look of a man reassessing a situation that's gone completely sideways.

"What the shit," he mutters, Lucille still in his hands but no longer raised toward Carl.

Ezekiel's sword finds its mark in a Savior's chest, the blade sliding between ribs with practiced ease.

"Kingdom stands with Alexandria!" he declares, pulling his weapon free with a spray of blood. "And we do not yield to tyrants!"

The battle rages on, but the tide has clearly turned. What started as Negan's moment of triumph has become a desperate fighting retreat as the Saviors realize they're outgunned, outmaneuvered, and facing a literal apex predator that doesn't care about their reputation.

A fleeting Savior, panicked and desperate, swings his rifle butt as he runs past you. The blow catches you in the side of the head, sending you sprawling into the dirt, your vision swimming.

Get up, you tell yourself, but your body isn't cooperating. Get up, damn it.

Through the haze of pain and confusion, you see movement approaching. Large, powerful, predatory. Shiva.

You've just witnessed what she can do.

The tiger is magnificent and terrifying, her golden coat splattered with fresh blood, a piece of torn cloth still caught between her teeth. Savior cloth.

"No, no, no," you whisper, voice hoarse as you scoot back on your hands, swallowing thickly. Your heart hammers against your ribs.

Her massive paws pad silently across the ground as she approaches your prone form, each step deliberate and measured.

Those amber eyes are locked on you, unblinking.

This is how I die, you think with strange calm. Mauled by a fucking tiger instead of the dead.

"Stay back!" you rasp, though your voice comes out as barely more than a croak. "Please..."

But instead of attacking, Shiva does something completely unexpected. She tilts her massive head, studying you with an intelligence that's almost human.

Then she lowers her great head and bunts you gently, the way a house cat might seek affection.

Her bloodied muzzle pushes against your shoulder, knocking you back slightly, and you can hear a deep rumbling purr emanating from her chest.

What the hell? you think, but somehow - against every instinct screaming at you to run - your trembling hand moves to rest against her fur. It's coarse and thick, warm with life and deadly power. The purring grows louder.

Your heart that was previously thudding like a war drum, start to slow down ableit fractionally.

"I don't... I don't understand," you breathe, staring into those golden eyes that seem almost gentle now.

"Shiva has always been an excellent judge of character," comes Ezekiel's voice from somewhere above you, calm and measured as always. "She recognizes the value of good people."

You look up to find the King standing there, leaning on his staff, completely unbothered by the fact that his tiger is nuzzling you in the middle of what remains of a battlefield, her mouth still stained with human blood.

"She killed them," you whisper, voice shaking. "I watched her..."

"She defended her people," Ezekiel corrects gently. "As she was meant to do. The Saviors chose their path when they decided to hurt the innocent."

Heavy footsteps approach, and Daryl appears at your other side, rifle still in hand, staring at the scene in disbelief. His eyes are wide, darting between you and the massive predator currently treating you like a favorite toy.

"What in the hell ..." he mutters, voice rough. "Y'hurt?" His gaze flicks to the blood on your temple where the rifle butt caught you.

"I'm okay," you manage, though your hand is still shaking as you stroke Shiva's fur. "I think."

Daryl crouches down beside you, his presence immediately comforting despite the surreal situation. "Never seen nothin' like this," he says, shaking his head as he watches Shiva continue to purr and nuzzle against you. "Damn thing's actin' like you're her cub or somethin'."

"She's not a thing," you say softly, surprised by your own defense of the tiger. "She's just... she's just doing what she thinks is right."

Daryl's eyes meet yours, something shifting in his expression. "Yeah, well," he mumbles, reaching out to brush some dirt from your cheek, "only m'woman would end up makin' friends with a damn tiger."

The undertone in his voice - the way he says 'woman' like you belong with him - sends warmth through your chest despite everything.

The sound of engines signals the last of the Saviors' retreat, their remaining forces scattering like roaches when the lights come on.

"M'gonna get yer head looked at," Daryl says, concern creeping into his voice as he notices you swaying slightly.

"In a moment," Ezekiel interjects, smiling at the scene before him. "Let Shiva finish her introduction. She does not offer her approval lightly."

For now, you're alive. You're safe. And somehow, you've gained the approval of a predator who's currently treating you like her new favorite person - even with human blood still staining her magnificent coat.

"This is insane," you whisper, but you're smiling now, the terror slowly fading as Shiva's rumbling purr continues to vibrate through your bones.

[discountlittlebro]

Pretty little neighbor boy sitting on the railing of his porch, kicking his pretty little tan legs. Smiling when he sees the neighbor finally getting home. The man next door is a grump, always alone and shooing away any company. He usually succeeds, except for the boy next door.

He tries not to look at him, he’s old enough to be the boys father he shouldn’t look at him. But it’s hard. He finds himself eyeing his slender legs, his round hips and his stomach. The little tangtops he wears are always riding up and his shorts are too short. The neighbor can tell when he’s not wearing anything underneath, has to rush inside to fist his cock in the shower on the days he gets a glimpse of pink panties.

And this damned brat always finds an excuse to talk to him. Mixed up mail, asking to borrow a cup of sugar, even once dragging the man over to his house because he had a leak in the ceiling. Like he’s some kind of handy man. Still, when the boys soft hand slides into his much bigger one, he can’t say no. He fixes the lose tile and quickly goes back home, tries not think about how he smells like honey dew, or how he leaned against his counter texting on the phone and showing off the curve of his perfect little ass. The very next day he was knocking on his door again, this time with a fresh baked pie. A thank you.

So yeah, he’s learned he can’t avoid the boy. He stops in his tracks when he sees him jump off the railing and take off running towards him. It makes something in chest flutter.

“Hey mister! How was work today?”

Mister. A nickname he came up with for him because of his job at the college. It’s stupid. He adores it.

“I spent my entire day with little shits like you, how do you think it was? Not a single of them have a shred of media literacy. They need everything spelled out for them and at face value. Fucking ridiculous how they managed to get to my class.”

“Awww sounds like a rough day. Come on, let’s use your big boy job money to buy me an ice cream, that’ll make you feel better!”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. He’s not even sure why he bothers telling this kid anything.

“Yes, because after spending the day dealing with snot nosed brats, the thing that will make me feel better is spending my money on another snot nosed brat.” He deadpans, ready to start walking back to his house when the little blonde catches him by suprise.

“What if I sucked it off your cock? Would it be worth it then?”

He had to be hearing things. Blondie has made a lot of flirty comments, but he’s never said anything so out right like that.

“What did you just say?” He’s staring down at him his breathe caught in his throat. If this kid is fucking with him he’ll…he’s not sure what he’ll do.

“I said, what if I suck it off your cock? Are you getting hard of hearing in your old age?”

Damned brat. Damned spoiled, tease of a brat. He should tell him off, should make him cry just like he does everyone else who bothers him. But he doesn’t. Instead he’s watching as the boy happily licks at a vanilla cone in his passenger seat, his legs crossed and propped up on his dash. He grins at the older man, suddenly shoving himself over the center console.

“Here hold my cone. Don’t let it melt!!”

Yeah, because he can control if the damned ice cream melts in the middle of the summer. He doesn’t get to shoot back any remarks, too taken off guard by the mouth suddenly wrapped around his cock. His free hand curls in the blondes hair, gently guiding him up and down on it, his other hand holds the vanilla cone out the window so it doesn’t make a mess in his car. By the time the boy is sitting back up in his seat he’s pouting, arms crossed over his chest. The professor is panting his seat, positive he’s seen divine forces just flash before his eyes.

“You let it melt!” He whines, angrily kicking his feet back up on the dashboard.

And yeah, it did melt so he lets it fall to ground.

“I’ll buy you another.”

[peasack]

I love your work!!! I was wondering if you'd write a teen!reader headcanon for them struggling with mental health, needing help with homework, coming out or getting bullied please? I especially love how you write Ava (she's my favourite character) and you manage to nail the Alexis voice

Absolutely adore this request.

I chose to write about the mental health, since I all of them (obviously) know how to deal with that. But I'll definitely put the other suggestions on my list!

Thunderbolts x Gn!Teen!Reader

✦ Thunderbolts Mental Health Support Headcanons ✦

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

✦ Ava Starr

The quiet protector. Ava’s not the type to talk circles around you or push you to open up. Instead, she watches. She notices the changes in your behaviorthe silence, the distance, the fake smiles and instead of asking a million questions, she simply shows up. She’ll quietly sit next to you, maybe reading or scrolling on her phone, just so you know she’s there without overwhelming you.

Understands isolation deeply. After everything with her phasing, Ava knows what it’s like to feel broken, like you're a burden, like no one could possibly understand. So when you isolate, she doesn’t take it personally. She just leaves a small trail for you to follow when you’re ready a text, a post-it note, a granola bar on your desk. Tiny signs that say you’re not forgotten.

Soft but firm boundaries. If you try to shut her out completely or brush her off with a fake “I’m fine,” Ava will tilt her head at you with this deadpan look and go, “Try again.” Not mean, not angry. Just “I see through you. You’re not fine. But I’ll wait for you to be ready.” She never lets you disappear completely.

Takes you on quiet, low-pressure ‘missions.’ She’ll invite you on drives, walks, or errands that sound boring but feel safe. “Come with me to pick up supplies. No talking necessary.” It’s her way of offering you company without forcing conversation. These small moments help you reconnect to the world without overwhelming you.

Gentle about scars and history. When she finds out about your past or your scars, she doesn’t freak out. She doesn’t lecture. She just softly says, “You’ve survived a lot. You don’t have to survive it alone anymore.” And that’s it. She holds it like a secret you entrusted her with.

Fiercely protective in her own silent way. If anyone triggers you, bullies you, or drags you down—Ava will quietly, ruthlessly remove that threat from your life. No one knows how, but that person suddenly just leaves you alone. Ava doesn’t need credit or thanks. She just protects you. Always.

✦ Alexei Shostakov

Not the best with words, but man does he show up. Alexei might not always know what to say, but he makes sure you know you’re not alone. He’ll randomly sit with you, bring you snacks, or drag you into the living room to watch terrible old Soviet movies with him, just to keep you company.

Overcompensates with physical comfort. He’s big on hugs and ruffling your hair, and you get the sense he’s constantly making sure you’re still there, still safe. He’s the kind of guy who will pat your back so hard you almost fall over—but you feel a little better afterward.

Terrible at hiding his concern. He’ll blurt out things like, "You are not allowed to disappear, okay? I will find you. I will find whoever made you sad. I will crush them like beetle."

Secretly keeps an eye on your routines. He notices if you’re skipping meals, missing sleep, or isolating. He’s not subtle—he’ll straight up drag you out of bed and be like, “We are going for silly little walk. It is non-negotiable.”

Panics when you cry. He immediately calls for backup (usually Yelena) like he’s reporting a code red. But he stays. Always. Even when he’s unsure what to do, he refuses to leave your side.

✦ Yelena Belova

The calm-in-a-storm type. When you’re spiraling, Yelena doesn’t flinch. She sits next to you, quietly, like, "Okay. We are sad now. I will be sad with you." She doesn’t try to fix you. She just holds space.

Violently protective of your mental space. If someone at school or even in the team says something that hurts you, she’s on it like a hawk. “Tell me who. I just want to talk.” (She does not just want to talk.)

Talks about her own issues openly. She’ll casually drop lines like, "Yeah, I have bad days too. I usually throw knives to feel better." She tries to normalize it so you never feel broken.

Pulls you into little missions or tasks when you isolate. "Come help me spy on Alexei. It will be fun." It’s her way of reconnecting you with the world.

Terrible with cheesy comfort phrases. Instead, you get blunt affection. "You are not allowed to give up. You are my family. You do not get to leave me. I will be annoying forever, so you must stay to suffer me."

✦ Bucky Barnes

The king of quiet understanding. He never pushes. Never demands you explain. Just sits next to you, offers a cup of tea, and sometimes just says, "I’ve been there. You don’t have to talk, but I get it."

Not great with open emotional convos but will listen all night if you need. He doesn’t always know what advice to give, but he will nod along, let you ramble, and toss in dry little jokes to keep you grounded.

Gives you space but always checks in. Leaves little notes on your door like "I’m making food. You better eat." Or sends you a text: "Still breathing? Cool. Come hang when you’re ready."

Gets quietly, intensely protective if anyone makes you feel worse. He won’t make a scene but will 100% have a quiet, terrifying “chat” with the person responsible.

Teaches you small things to help. Like how to box when you’re angry, or how to breathe when you’re spiraling. He’s the type to hand you coping tools instead of empty comfort.

✦ Bob Reynolds

So, so soft about it. Bob is super emotionally tuned in and probably notices you’re struggling before you say anything. He gets this gentle, concerned tone like, "Hey, kid… you doing okay?"

Overthinks and worries a lot. He’s scared of saying the wrong thing or making you worse, but he wants to help. He’ll sit with you, make you tea, or put on your favorite show just to be near you.

Big on distraction days. He’ll offer to play games, watch movies, even sit and listen to music together, anything to help you breathe and not be stuck in your head.

Sassy comfort. Once you’re closer, he’ll throw in playful sass to make you smile when you’re down. "Look, you’re stuck with me now. Can’t get rid of me. I’m like emotional gum on your shoe."

If you cry in front of him, he crumbles. He holds you so carefully like you might break, and his voice drops to the softest whisper like, "Hey… hey, you’re safe. I’ve got you, okay? I’ve got you.”

✦ John Walker

Awkward but fiercely loyal. John’s not super in touch with his own emotions, but the moment he sees you’re struggling, he’s locked in. He just… doesn’t always know how to handle it. "You, uh, wanna… I dunno. Wanna hit something? Or get ice cream? Or whatever helps?"

Overprepares. Starts reading up on mental health resources, making checklists in his phone like "Things To Help The Kid When They're Sad" because he genuinely wants to be good at this.

Dad-mode activated. He’ll randomly show up with snacks, your favorite drink, or movie nights without making a big deal out of it. If you try to thank him, he waves it off like, "Don’t worry about it, kid. It’s what I’m here for."

Gets super angry at anyone who hurts you. Like, full-on clenched fists, ready-to-throw-down angry. But he channels it quietly—he just gets very, very protective from a distance.

Awkward comfort, but real. Might pat your back stiffly and mutter, "Look… I might not always get it. But I care about you, okay? You’re family. You’re my kid now. Deal with it."

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

Hope this was alright, it's a little more detailed on Ava’s part since, of course, the request was for her.

If you guys have more requests please leave them in my inbox! <3