#do it herself if she really asked & was set on it

[puppyxprincess]

Training Logs, Entry #2

6/23/24

I’m happy to report that her training has been a continued success.

The subject is eagerly submissive to me, her dedication grows in intensity with every passing day.

Our baseline levels of trust have far exceeded my expectations for her, which I attribute to her sharp judge of character. She has deemed me “safe” and has in turn, handed herself over to me willingly. I’m gaining a strong appreciation for subjects so happy to be trained.

I just concluded a rather impromptu training session, the subject requested I ask her some questions to further my knowledge on hypnosis, utilizing her existing stores of information on the subject. She suggested i drop her, making her incredibly tired and deep in trance before asking these questions, to see if she could recall our conversation in full.

At first I was intimidated, I must be transparent. An impromptu session stripped away my ability to be prepared for anything, to have my goals and path mapped out, my triggers pre-planned, all of it, gone. I almost told her no, I wasn’t feeling up to it, I couldn’t possibly engage in anything successfully. Better to wait than risk damaging progress, damaging her faith in my abilities, is how i reasoned with myself.

But something possessed me. Maybe it was the two drinks i’d just finished, maybe it was my intuition, my unwillingness to let the opportunity slip out of my hands.

I agreed to her request, how could i deny an eager puppy the chance to train?

I set up my equipment and took a deep breath. I began my greetings, already donning that syrupy, lilting tone reserved near exclusively for her, and I hoped inspiration would strike me.

I asked about her favorite inductions, how to decide on one, how to avoid falling into routine and allowing it to become predictable.

She began to explain using some comparison to a math concept I couldn’t really grasp, but I began to understand her point when an idea appeared to me.

Previously, my pet had mentioned to me that the bell jingling on my cat’s collar worked as an “ears perked” sort of effect. Instantly capturing her focus and drawing it to my words.

I removed the cat’s collar and shook gently it a few times near the mic. The puppy immediately lost her words, it was so wonderful to see. I prompted the pet to continue, but only let her get a few words out before i let the bell chime again. She lost her train of thought, immediately becoming focused on the sound of the bell, her thoughts slipping from her mind.

It was hard not to laugh, seeing the composed, intellectual subject immediately reduced to a brainless puppy. The efficacy was truly shocking.

I took the opportunity to wield her focus against her, knowing her predisposition would be to go deeper, to agree with anything i might suggest.

“Do you even remember the point you were trying to make?”

“Can you even answer my questions, pup?” The subject clung to the explanation that she could, but that she was just so focused on me, it was hard to let anything else take precedence.

“Doesn’t it seem like it would be so much nicer to put all that aside and be a Silly Puppy for me instead?”

At this point, her responses consisted only of an eager “mhm!” or two, if she was feeling very excited by the suggestion.

I interspersed the jingling bell over any pauses, increasing her focus on me each time. This began to work so well she stopped being able to respond. At this point, I asked the subject if she’d prefer to remain under and fall asleep, or if I should bring her back up. She requested “Up,” so after a few more moments i began to bring her out of trance.

The subject was still dazed when she began to communicate her amazement at my insecurity, even going as far as to ask if I had been joking, fully aware of my ability to drop her so quickly and effectively.

I laughed, assuring her that the entire session had been unprepared, allowing my ego to swell at the high praise from my far-more-experienced subject.

Over a brief discussion of the session, as my pet spoke to me, I couldn’t resist the urge to use the bell against her again. She slipped back down easily, blindly obedient once more.

After playing with my favorite subject a bit more, I brought her back to herself, and had to force myself to stay quiet. Every time I opened my mouth I pushed her back into that sharp focus and her brain into a state of arousal that rendered her unable to sleep.

One of the last things we talked about before I finally allowed her to rest was how towards the very beginning, when she first lost her train of thought, she found it difficult to grasp what she had been speaking about even once out of trance.

Something of note regarding this pet is that she has often recounted how ineffective memory impacting trances have been for her, likely due to her history of hypervigilance and perceived need to protect herself. Communicating that my spontaneous session may have allowed even a small memory to slip out of her grasp has emboldened me to try again and test my skills with a more overt memory play session with her.

It definitely serves my purposes that she’s so eager to hand over full control to me, not one ounce of doubt or distrust towards me present in her pretty little mind.

My next goal has been set: Make the puppy forget something.

I think it will prove easy enough.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Okay, just slotting the 'Emily knew vaggie because her wings made her stand out' into the Vanguard Vaggie AU and raising you the thought of emily finding out that vaggie is, in fact, that exorcist.

Like just imagine all the feels there!

the comedic route:

Emily staring blankly as Charlie speedruns an explanation only to get cut off by Emily socking Vaggie right in the face

(and then apologizing for it for the next 15 minutes) (vaggie isn't mad she gets it) (vaggie kinda liked it actually) (Charlie However Did Not) (it was also Emily's first punch ever and she might have maybe cracked a knuckle bone on Vaggie's jawline)

the dramatic route:

Charlie is scared of either Emily hating Vaggie or Vaggie and Emily getting Very Close

so she goes exact words demon thing, and doesn't tell EITHER of them the truth-

to Emily she assures she checked all the dead exorcists' wings and none of them had just one stripe.

(true. it's her very alive girlfriend who has wings like that)

to Vaggie she handwaved that she'd checked the exorcist thing for Emily already and the one she was looking for didn't die in the hotel battle.

(true. Charlie is talking to said very alive former exorcist right now)

She banks on Vaggie not wanting deal with heaven at all (and now being able to say WHY) and Emily being too busy changing things up in heaven to ever surprise visit the hotel (and on Lute and Sera being so dead set on not sharing info Emily probably won't be able to check the exorcists herself, or ask for help without possibly drawing attention to the one exorcist she isn't sure she wants to risk getting in trouble).

while this is going on, Charlie tries to NOT notice how Vaggie gets instantly sidetracked whenever they visit Cannibal Town, and can always be found playing Hop Corpse or Tick Tac Dead Man's Toe with the cannibal kids

all reminders of how she still definitely IS the same angel who's protective streak Emily anchored so much trust on back in heaven

Charlie also tries NOT to get too heartbroken listening Emily's now regular calls where the seraphim mixes frustration with tears over still NOT being able to find that single-striped, kid loving exorcist

who Emily is starting to worry if was gotten rid of on the sly... if one exorcist like Vaggie could be abandoned down in hell, then what might have been done to this other one-

(about that...)

oh and uh, Charlie deflecting wildly whenever Vaggie asks what the phone calls are about and if she can help, is also making Vaggie just a liiiiiitttle bit droopy- maaaaybe a bit insecure- a lot insecure- extremely jealous and slightly more territorial-

possssibly also bringing up fresh memories of Charlie not 100% trusting her with other things

which is NOT what Charlie is trying to do but UGH lying is HARD why does ANYONE ever think this is a good idea!?

why did SHE think it was a good idea-

oh right.

she's just found out her gf is an angel

who could have or could have had a life up in literal heaven

and now there's also someone up there who might have known Vaggie long before Charlie did

who isn't an asshole

and keeps being called "the Charlie of Heaven" by their friends

so if Vaggie had never left heaven...

or if she and Emily reconnect NOW, right after Vaggie and Charlie had their first big falling out...

....hellooo fear of not being loved and getting left alone again!!!

okay well lying still isn't a GOOD idea but it's hard to think of better alternatives when you're scared shitless. so lying it is!

Small snag: Vaggie REALLY doesn't trust heaven, is VERY protective of Charlie, and comes crashing into the heavenly consulate building thing wings out spear ready the MOMENT one of Charlie's meeting with heaven gets even a LITTLE tense

Further snag: Emily is VERY active in trying to change heaven, helped organize the meetings in the first place, is there to see Vaggie AND her wings

and is now staring from Vaggie to Charlie, fully realizing she's been lied to

Final snag- Charlie own guilty conscious and wish for her gf to have good things,

it means that even though she cOULD still wiggle out of this- get Vaggie out of there QUICK, let Emily believe that Vaggie knew she was being looked for and didn't want to be found, pretend she Charlie was just shielding her partner....

buuuuut she can't. she can't do that to either of them

now Charlie breaks down crying, explaining everything to a very plot twist confused Vaggie, now Charlie is swearing to Emily that Vaggie didn't know about the lie she can't be blamed for it this was 100% Charlie's thing please don't hate Vaggie for it-

result?

if you think for one moment Vaggie doesn't drop her spear and rush over to hug Charlie you are DEAD. WRONG.

so it's Charlie, not understanding why Vaggie isn't angry, listening to Vaggie (muffled) (choked up) say that she knows why Charlie did it, she's literally been there done that, it's OKAY

bc yeah Vaggie's felt that fear and yeah it makes you do stupid, dumb things, and now she's feeling pretty sick thinking about CHARLIE going through that while SHE VAGGIE was busy moping around worrying her gf was getting close with another angel

they're both desperate morons, your honor

oh and Emily's here too.

Emily is realizing the one exorcist she used to trust and felt betrayed by DID rebel against heaven and HAS been down in hell trying to save the people she used to kill

and one person Emily trusted with all this hid Vaggie from her... because Charlie loves Vaggie, and almost lost her and their relationship twice just recently, and

Vaggie and Emily team up to reassure Charlie.

(im boring. im boring and basic and i LIKE happy endings and vaggie would rip out her other eye for charlie while emily is emily so NO im not saying this spirals into more damn drama, my heart can't take it, i need them all to HUG)

Charlie can KINDA get Vaggie not being mad.... healthy reaction or another sign of their blissful codependency, who can tell...

but she IS confused about Emily being so nice about it-

Vaggie also adds that she herself has totally earned Emily's wrath on behalf of everyone up in heaven who DIDN'T know actual mass murder was being done in their name, so if Emily wants to go off on her, Vaggie is fine with that

at which point Emily smiles. Looks at them both thoughtfully.

and asks if they're planning on having kids

at which point, amid spluttering and panic, Charlie and Vaggie both realize Emily IS still pissed at them. Very. VERY PISSEED INDEED.

buuuut she has clearly decided on making her revenge as slow and sweet as possible

Through innocent questions, and, should a Chaggie child ever appear- having first dibs on being godmother, along with the resulting standing invitation to Every. Single. Family. Dinner. for the rEST of eternity or as long as any of them still live, oh fuck, she will NEVER let EITHER of them live it down.

the end

[confusionmeisss]

baby cousin - c. sturniolo

🫧 chris sturniolo x fem!reader

🫧 where you bring chris along with you to a family party and your little baby cousin absolutely steals all his attention.

🫧 fluff.

🫧 1.4k words.

🫧 hi lovelies!! thank you so much for wanting to read! uh this idea just popped into my head when i seen this picture of chris, i was like, “i got the perfect thing to write based on this” i think i was also heavily inspired by the fact that my baby cousins baptism was coming up so i was gonna be seeing my little cousins! anyway, enjoy bc i loved writing this! much love to you all!! <3 oh also, apologies if ur ovulating or have baby fever 😣

Your five year old cousin, Lila, had to be the most bubbly and extroverted of all your cousins. She would chat to anyone willing to listen. Most of all, she’d been attached to you since you could remember, turning herself into your little shadow. She mimics your mannerisms and what you say. And whenever you’re anywhere with her there as well, you have to be so careful with moving about because she’ll be stuck to you like velcro.

So it was normal that as soon as you set foot into your aunt’s backyard and the little girl spotted you, her features lit up and she made a mad dash for you; her small body colliding with yours.

You let out a breath at the collision, a smile overtaking your face afterwards. “Hey Li,” you say, crouching down to her level.

“Hi, Y/N!” She shouts out brightly.

You laugh softly. “Heard you started kindergarten. How’s that been for you, bug? Make any new friends?” You ask, brushing back a piece of stray hair from her face.

She nods her head enthusiastically. “Yes! His name is Austin and we push each other on the swings and play legos together!”

“That’s great! Hey, I have someone I want you to meet,” you say, standing back to your height.

“Really?”

“Mhm,” you say, grabbing her small hand and leading her to where your mother is standing talking to your uncle; Chris standing next to her.

“His name is Chris and he’s my boyfriend.”

Lila stops you before you reach them by tugging at your shirt.

You look down at her. “Do you think he’ll wanna be my friend?”

“Oh for sure. I think you two will get along real well in fact.”

“Okay! Then let’s go meet my new friend Chris!”

You let out another soft laugh as you both finally reach your mother and Chris. Your mother spotting you both and letting out a gasp.

“Oh well if it isn’t my favorite five year old!” She says, reaching down and tugging Lila into a big hug. “How’s school going for you so far, darling?”

“Great! Made new friends! Bout to make a new one now!” Lila lets out from her place in your mothers arms, squirming just a little bit.

“Oh, yes,” your mother lets out a chuckle. “Go on and meet Christopher now, darling.” Your mother lets go of the girl with a pat on her head before wandering off to talk to another family member.

Almost immediately Lila looks at the man now standing next to you. A bright grin taking over her face, making her cheeks squish and her eyes squint.

“Hello! I’m Lila, and I would like to be your friend! Would you like to be my friend?” The little girl asks with a little hand outstretched towards Chris.

His bigger one engulfs hers as he returns her greeting. “I would love to be your friend, Lila.”

Lila lets go of Chris’ hand and claps her hands together with a squeal of delight.

“That’s great! Do y’wanna go play in my sandbox with me? We can make sandcastles!”

“I would love to!” Chris says brightly.

And as soon as the words left his mouth, he was being dragged away by Lila and towards her sandbox.

“So, I heard that you’re in school now. Do you like it?” Chris asks, as he plops down onto the grass next to the sandbox.

“Oh I love it!” Lila replies, picking up two pink shovels, and shoving one towards Chris. “It’s super fun! Like, I get to color, but I gotta stay inside the lines which I guess can be hard sometimes. But like we also get to watch movies sometimes. And now I can count up to twenty! Which is how old Y/N is! How old are you?”

Chris lets out a chuckle at the girl’s enthusiastic debrief. “Well, I’m glad you enjoy school. I’m twenty too, but I won’t be in a couple more months; then I’ll be twenty-one along with my brothers.”

“You have brothers? I’m an only child, I dunno what that’s like. Wait, why are you and your brothers all turning the same age at the same time? That’s not how it works,” Lila says, her head tilted to the side in confusion.

“Ah, you see my brothers and I were born on the same day, so we all turn the same age at the same time,” Chris explains. “We’re triplets. It’s like twins but instead of two, there’s three of us.”

Lila gasps, sand flying up from her excited hand movements - which Chris notes she’s picked up from you - and into her hair. Lila remains unphased by this as she says, “That’s so cool!”

“Yeah, it really is.”

Lila quickly changes topics though as her gaze focuses on something behind her. “Let’s blow bubbles, and then we can chase them trying to pop them before they disappear!”

“Alright,” Chris agrees easily, standing up from the grass. He watches as Lila runs over to a little plastic picnic table and grabs a tube of bubbles.

“Will you blow them?” She asks, running back over to him. Once she reaches him, she holds out her hand with the bubbles in it out to him expectantly.

“‘Course I will,” Chris says, taking hold of the bubble tube and twisting it open. “Ready?” He asks.

Receiving a nod in response, he starts blowing the bubbles, watching them float out into the air and Lila chase after them trying to pop them.

Chris has a happy smile on his face as he watches the little girl giggle while trying to pop the bubbles.

“Chris, can you try and make a super big one? Y/N can do it, and it’s always so cool!”

Chris nods and focuses on attempting to make as big of a bubble as he can. It takes a few tries, all of which Lila giggles at, before he finally gets one out.

“Woah!” Lila gasps out, before giggling and reaching up to pop it with her little finger.

The bubble bursts and splatters against Chris’ face, making him scrunch it up in distaste. “Oh ew, soaps on my mouth now.”

Lila lets out a loud laugh at Chris’ distress.

“Oh, you think that’s funny?” Chris asks.

“Mhm,” Lila says, attempting to suppress a giggle.

Chris doesn’t even hesitate before he drops the tube of bubbles and starts chasing after the girl. Her giggles so loud, they make you look over from where you’re making plates of food.

A soft smile overtakes your face as you watch them run around, your smile widening when Chris grabs hold of Lila and starts tickling her, making her giggles somehow get louder.

“Mercy! Mercy! M’sorry for laughing at you!” Lila squeals out. Chris surrenders and places the girl down on the bench of her picnic table, then sitting across from her.

“You’re silly, Chris,” Lila giggles. “I’m hungry,” she then whines out.

“Ah, well lucky for you, I’ve come to be your savior,” you say, placing a plastic plate in front of her. You place another in front of Chris before setting drinks down on the table as well.

“Thank you!” Lila shouts, before stabbing her fork into her mac n’ cheese.

“Thank you,” Chris says, smiling at you softly and placing a kiss on your cheek.

“You’re welcome, my love,” you reply, going to sit down before you’re stopped by a small hand.

“Sorry Y/N, but only two people can fit at my picnic table and I want Chris to sit with me,” Lila says looking up at you with an apologetic expression.

You let out a gasp of fake offense, placing a hand over your heart. “I can’t believe this! I’ve been replaced!”

Lila gasps. “No! You can’t ever be replaced! You’re my favoritest! Chris move, you can sit on the grass and Y/N can take your spot!”

You suppress a laugh at this. Chris takes it all in stride though, and moves to sit on the grass and you take his spot.

“So I’m taking it you like Chris then?” You ask Lila, taking a bite of your food.

“Oh yeah! I hope you keep him around, he’s real fun! And silly!”

“Yeah. Yeah he is, isn’t he? I hope he sticks around for a long while too,” You say looking at Chris softly.

He reaches over and grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers, resting them on the bench. “I will,” he assures.

[xhoneywheatx]

Mornings

Warnings: None; dad!Gojo x black fem!reader; size difference mentioned; brief mentions of intimacy  Category: Fluff Summary: How I'd imagine mornings with Satoru and your daughter. 

"Da! Da!" 

Little pats to his shoulder paired with the sweet voice of his 10-month-old daughter roused him from a deep slumber cuddled up behind you. He groaned before becoming slightly startled by the little pats of her tiny hand against his face again before she said, "Da! Up, up!" Satoru opened his cerulean eyes immediately after being met with the same ones he had blessed his little girl with. A sleepy smile edged onto his face as he threw his arms around the little girl who somehow managed to come out of her nightshirt, sporting only a diaper and cute pink socks. 

"'M up, sweetheart." He mumbled, trying his hardest to kick the sleep out of his system. Her giggles filled the quietness of your bedroom, prompting you to wake up as well. You subconsciously began feeling around for her since she fell asleep in your arms, but when you couldn't find her, you opened your eyes and heard Satoru speaking. 

"Look baby, mama is up now." 

You turned over in the bed after rubbing your eyes a bit. "Mama!" She began bouncing up and down on Satoru's chest with a pumpkin smile since she only had two teeth. You giggled at her excitement and sat up to give her a kiss on the forehead. "Where's my kiss?" Your husband pouted. You hadn't even gotten a good look at him yet, so when you looked at his cute face and tousled hair from a good night's rest, a faint blush settled on your face before leaning down to give him a quick kiss. Immediately after you parted from your husband's soft pink lips, your little girl decided to get in on "mama and daddy time" and put herself in between you two with a giggle. 

You giggled as well before stretching your arms out and above your head before turning to kick your legs over the bed and into your cute bunny slippers Satoru got as a matching family set. "Let's get you changed sweetheart." You heard Satoru say to your daughter as you rummaged through her diaper drawer. It was a part of your morning routine. Either you or Satoru got up to get the diapers and wipes while the other changed the baby once they were received. So, while Satoru changed her, you took the liberty of getting a head start on your morning routine. 

You just finished washing your face when he walked in with your daughter on his hip before settling her in between the space of your 'his and her' sink in the bathroom. "How'd you sleep Sweets?" He asked, sliding behind you to remove your black satin bonnet to help you fix your mess of thick curly hair. You pulled your daughter closer to you and turned her around so her little back was facing you as you began fixing her hair for the day. "I slept good baby. How'd you sleep?" You asked, slightly flinching as he began detangling your hair with his absurdly larger fingers. You were exactly a foot shorter than him, so it made sense, but still. He didn't have to be so big... 

"I was having the best dream about getting lost in a field of cakes and mochi when this," he paused to poke at your daughter's tummy, making her laugh and squirm around. "little caramel drop beat me up out of my sleep." You snorted, readjusting your daughter so you could rub the kid friendly Mielle hair products into her dark grey head of curls. She was only 10 months but had just as much hair as you. Good thing she didn't really mind you doing it, or your mornings would be so much harder. 

Satoru took the spray bottle of water and sprayed your hair until it was damp before grabbing your detangling brush to redo everything he just did with his hands so he could put in some leave in conditioner. He didn't mind this part of your mornings. If anything, he enjoyed this part the most. Being able to indulge in such intimate moments with you was the best part of his day. He also loved the way your hair care products smelled. They just smelled so sweet. Just like you. Chocolate is one of his favorites after all. 

"She's a daddy's girl. Even though I did all the work getting her into this world." You teased separating Nami's hair in half so you could put two loose cornrow braids in to avoid unnecessary tension on her scalp. "Be still baby." You spoke. Satoru took the moment of your distraction to lean down, press his chest against your back, and brush his lips against your ear sending shivers down your spine. "You are too." Your body was encased in a sudden heat flash as you let out a shaky breath. You looked back at him to see a faint blush settled on his cheeks from his own desires threatening to take over. 

"You wonder how she got here." You muttered feeling your heart beat faster as you tried to refocus on finishing the first braid of your daughter's hair. She was too occupied with the fake plant to care about what you two were doing behind her, occasionally babbling to herself. He laughed lowly, deciding to save his sultry comments for another time when you two get some alone time during Nami's nap time in a few hours. He instead decided to quit messing with you and brushed through the last section of your hair before putting your leave in conditioner in as you finished up Nami's second braid. He grabbed your favorite scrunchie and put your hair up in a loose ponytail at the base of your neck kissing your cheek as he slid over to his sink to quickly fix his hair. 

The conversation after was more PG as you two brushed your teeth together with the company of Nami sticking her toes under the warm water of the faucet, giggling as Satoru playfully scolded her. "It's not bath time yet sweetheart." He put his hands on his naked hips making a face at her, getting her to giggle. Her little baby laughs were too cute for you to not laugh right along with her as you dried her foot off before cleaning up the little mess you guys made. 

"C'mon you two!" You shouted behind you as you left the bathroom to the kitchen to make breakfast. "Mommy's making her sweet pancakes!" It was then you heard the pat! pat! pat! of Satoru's bunny slippers hitting the hardwood floor as he jogged down the hall with Nami on his shoulders, her laughter filling the air. "Don't drop my baby." You raised a brow at him seeing her now clad in the night shirt she wore to bed. "Drop my caramel gum drop?! How could you think I'd do something so heinous," he said your name like you stole something. "They don't call me the strongest for no reason." 

You rolled your eyes while gathering everything you needed to make your sweet pancakes with. "Whatever 'Toru. I said what I said." You poked out your bottom lip slightly, a habit of yours when you got serious. "C'mon sweetheart, let's get you down before mommy kills me." Satoru said behind you removing Nami from his shoulders. He then sat her down in her highchair and opened the freezer to give her a strawberry fruit feeder pacifier for her to suck on while you made breakfast. Nami made grabby hands at the treat and immediately latched onto it as soon as she got her little hands on it, kicking her feet randomly as she enjoyed the sweet taste of the fresh frozen fruit. 

"Can you make a fruit smoothie baby?" You asked while pouring the first pancake in the pan. "Sure thing Sweets" Satoru kissed the top of your head before going to fridge to observe what kinds of fruits you had. "Strawberry banana, pineapple, or raspberry?" He asked, leaning back to look at you past the door of the fridge. "Raspberry." 

You finished making breakfast 10 minutes later. It wasn't much this morning, so it didn't take you very long. You ended up making two pancakes for yourself and four for Satoru. He loves your sweet pancakes. You always made them extra soft and fluffy. The reason they're sweet is the vanilla extract you use as well as a bit of cinnamon and some icing on top with fresh strawberries, bananas, and raspberries. You opted for no icing with it being too sweet, but you made sure to put a thin layer between every single pancake for Satoru. His sweet tooth was ridiculous. For Nami, you made one baby sized pancake with a single strawberry cut in half and two banana slices. Since she's not used to a big quantity of artificial sugars, you opted for just a bit of maple syrup for her instead of the icing. It wasn't nearly enough to make her tummy hurt after, but enough for her to taste it. 

With breakfast finished, Satoru washed the dishes for you while you cleaned up Nami and sat her down in the living room for her hour or two of play time and watching cartoons before she napped. Satoru joined you after a few minutes and sat down on the couch beside you. "Let me lay on you." He asked gently pushing you over so you could lay down. You grinned at his childish behavior and shook your head before scooting back against the arm of the sectional, putting a pillow behind your back before opening your legs to make space for him. He giggled like a child before putting his head on your chest and settling his body between your plush thighs. 

"Big ass baby." You teased seeing his feet dangle off the end of the couch. He was just so long for no reason. You felt like a backpack whenever you spooned him, but he loved it. "Your big ass baby." He mumbled, closing his eyes once you started raking your fingers through his hair.  You two then started talking about everything and nothing at all as Nami crawled around the carpet and supported herself on the TV stand bouncing up and down at the nursery rhymes the talking animals sang. 

It was times like this that made Gojo forget about the things going on in the world outside his home. He just felt so domesticated, and he was enjoying it. Although Satoru was the strongest and most feared Jujutsu Sorcerer in the game, those titles weren't around in this household. To you, he was a big baby who had a bigger sweet tooth than a kid in a candy store. He was a great husband, taking care of you and making sure you had everything you needed including his love and affection. He was a great father who tended to his daughter's every need. Making sure she was alright before he did the same for himself. He wasn't the Satoru Gojo of the Six Eyes and Infinity. No. He was just "'Toru" and "Da", and he wouldn't have it any other way. 

A/N: I fucked up and watched JJK. Now I'm a traumatized Gojo girl >.< We all need fluff after what Gege bitch ass did to us.

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

2 + 1 = 3

Maya is six and will be placed in foster care soon, much to Katya's fear and pain, but Natasha has other ideas.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 1.4k • Warnings: none •A/N: thank you for this idea @drama2005 ! I can't believe I never wrote this scene before. Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

2019

Katya crashed into Natasha's body with a sigh, nearly knocking a pan out of her hand in the process. Technically, she didn't have ''shifts'' at the orphanage, but ever since Thanos was defeated and half the world was blipped back, it was chaos. 

In the midst of that chaos, she—and the rest of her staff—was trying to get the orphaned kids back with their blipped-back parents or family as fast as she could, before the government could come up with some law that prevented it, or made it more difficult. 

It meant lots of paperwork, lots of research, and lots of calling around, all while caring for the kids and trying to keep their environment as stable as possible. Most of them were confused, lost, and didn't know what was going on and what was going to happen. Some had trouble eating, others had trouble sleeping. A lot of tears were shed on a daily basis. Katya tried to be there for them as best she could.

''Another four kids were picked up today by family,'' she mumbled as Natasha set the pan down and wrapped her slumped body into a tight hug.

The redhead hummed, slowly caressing her oily, dark hair. The physical affection was getting more frequent and started to feel like the time before Thanos again. It made her incredibly happy. ''Isn't that a good thing?''

Katya sighed again, reluctantly peeling her face from Natasha's shoulder. ''Yeah, but…'' Dark eyebags stuck out from her pale face like blood in snow, her eyelids heavy like they were being pulled down by strings, but funnily enough, Natasha worried less about her now than a month ago. 

''But what?'' She asked softly, her hands on Katya's cheeks, lightly caressing her cheekbones with her thumbs.

''I don't know.'' Katya looked away from her, around the plainfully plain kitchen and the even plainer living room. They'd only moved into their lake house three weeks ago. ''I spent the last five years with them, I'm kind of sad to see them go, even if I'm really happy for them to be back where they belong.''

''What about—''

''She isn't getting picked up, Nat,'' Katya sharply cut her off, the frustration that she felt accidentally slipping out. The hopes she had for a happy ending for her favorite kid were getting more crushed by the day. ''She doesn't have anyone coming back for her. Her parents are dead-dead, not blipped, and the family we tried to contact doesn't want anything to do with her.'' Her jaw tensed. ''Makes me want to track them down, and—''

''Hey, hey.'' This time, Natasha cut her off before she could get angry, gently turning her head back towards her. ''She'll be okay.''

''No, she won't. She's fragile and sensitive, and she's going to end up in foster care, where there's creeps who take advantage of a sweet girl like her—'' Katya caught herself this time, taking a deep breath in and out until the deep crease on her forehead disappeared. She just felt so powerless. Pitifully, she buried her face in Natasha's shoulder again. ''I'm scared and sad for her.''

''I know, I know.'' Natasha rubbed her back, barely hearing what her wife said. Her mind was reeling with thoughts it had before, or maybe it were dreams. Anyhow, they were worthless back then, wrongly timed, but now… She took a deep breath and took the leap. ''Why doesn't she come and live with us?''

Katya didn't react like she thought she would. The brunette didn't move a muscle, mumbling into Natasha's shirt. ''I thought of it, but… I didn't think you'd want that.''

''Honey, it's been the two of us for five years now. This place could use some life.''

Carefully, Katya picked her head up, as if she was scared she was being pranked. ''Really?''

''Yes.'' Natasha smiled carefully, seeing the hope flare up in her wife's eyes. ''We have two empty bedrooms upstairs. One could be hers.''

Katya fully perked up, her mind going crazy with plans and ideas. ''Until we can find a good family for her. It'll give us time to vet check them.''

Ah. That's why she didn't react surprised before. She thought that Natasha meant the girl would only be staying temporarily. She never thought that she would suggest adopting. 

Weird excitement caused Natasha to contain a smile as she prepared to give Katya the biggest shock of her life. ''Actually, I was talking about a permanent stay.''

Katya froze, her eyes widening. It was nearly comical how it took her a few seconds to process. ''Per— You mean adopting her.''

''We've always talked about kids. We know her, she knows us, it feels right.'' Natasha seemingly spoke very casually about it, but her heart raced in her chest. ''Don't tell me you haven't thought about it.''

''Not thoroughly,'' Katya answered slowly, wide-eyed. ''It flashed across my mind, but I didn't think you'd want it this fast. Not after…'' Natasha nudged her chin up when she saw that Katya was mentally drifting to a bad place. The brunette shook her head, breathing out hard. ''Everything is just back on track. We are just starting to come together again.''

''True, but I doubt the adoption process is that fast. We probably still have a month or two to get used to the idea.'' 

She had completely knocked Katya into a state of disorientation and disbelief. The woman was just staring at her, lips slightly parted, as she tried to comprehend the entirety of what she was implying. Usually, Katya was the dreamer, and Natasha the realist. So this was by far the most unexpected thing Katya had ever expected to come out of her wife's mouth.

''Really?''

Natasha nodded, running her hands down Katya's arms until she could hold her hands tightly, giving them a reassuring squeeze. ''I've wanted nothing more than a family with you my whole life. You know my silent dream of being a mom. Maya's—''

''Perfect,'' Katya breathed, starting to get on board with this crazy dream.

Natasha nodded again. Maya was perfect, damaged and all. ''She came onto our path for a reason, Kat.''

''I thought you weren't superstitious,'' Katya teased. Natasha half-heartedly rolled her eyes.

''Well, after the twists and turns our lives have taken, and the place we ended up, how can I not be? I got everything I wanted. Peace, a home, you.'' She let go of one of Katya's hands to pull her closer by her hip. A light blush spread across the brunette's cheeks. ''There's only one thing missing, and I feel like it's her.''

Katya could barely contain her excitement. She wanted to take that leap of happiness with Natasha, but cautiousness slipped into her system after everything that happened. ''Can we even adopt? With our past, it's not exactly the best background to raise a kid.''

''Well, we did save the world… twice. And the universe… once, so who better to raise a kid than that?'' Natasha shrugged with a smirk. ''Besides, if Tony Stark, of all people, can raise a half decent kid like Morgan, then surely we can too.''

Katya snorted, untangling her hand from Natasha's to drape her arms over her shoulders. Their fronts were pressed together, creating an intimate bubble filled with pure bliss. ''It's a big responsibility,'' she muttered, staring deeply into those warm, familiar green eyes.

''And nothing we can't handle together.''

Natasha's confidence was contagious. Katya's heart beat with hope. ''You're serious?''

''Dead serious,'' Natasha promised, pulling her hips closer. Motherhood was the last thing she would ever think lightly about. ''Do you want this too?''

Katya breathed out a disbelieving laugh, shaking her head slowly. ''More than I want to kiss you, and I really want to kiss you right now.''

Natasha smiled joyfully. ''Then I'm in if you're in.''

Her answer came in the form of a lovesick look that meant a thousand words. The love poured out of Katya's eyes as she stared at her wife in excited disbelief. They were doing this. They were finally going to have that family they always dreamed of. 

The road may have been long, and incredibly, incredibly difficult at times, but this was where they were always meant to end up. Together, safely, as a family. Fate had a weird way of working out exactly like it was supposed to.

''I love you,'' Katya whispered, affection dripping from every syllable so heavily that Natasha felt her knees weaken.

''I love you too.''

[heygerald]

Falling Without A Harness - Chapter 7

AU where Tom Ryder is still an asshole, just not a psychotic one. When Parker starts to let go of her initial assumptions about a man that makes a lasting impression, she starts to see that there's more to him than meets the eye. Yet, she can't help but wonder, why does he insist on acting like an asshole?

Read the story here: prev / ...

Parker was dying.

Had to be, anyway, because her organs felt something like slushy-mud water inside her chest, and there was something pounding against her skull that made it hard to think. She couldn't remember the last time she felt like this—her own birthday, maybe—and though she didn't put a lot of emphasis on her own personal health, she was certain that this time she was dying.

Really, really dying.

"I fucking hate Colt," she muttered, cheek pressed against the cool kitchen counter as an antacid tablet dissolved in her cup of water with a looming zzz. It almost hurt to watch, and when half the tablet broke into a chunk to send a torrent of bubbles up to the surface, Parker grimaced. "...blonde bastard."

Her sentiments went unheard in the empty kitchen.

It was still early, and her body ached to return to the couch. It wasn't comfortable by any means, worn in all the wrong places with scratches lining the surface, but it was horizontal, and it didn't involve sorting through books while greeting customers. If she hadn't been so adamant about setting three alarms the night before, Parker surely would have left the bookstore locked up all day.

But, as it was, she needed money, and a Saturday was too good a day to be an irresponsible property owner. So, here she was, crying on the kitchen counter watching her antacid dissolve in hopes that it would miraculously cure a hangover.

She grimaced at the sticky dryness of her mouth.

In hindsight, that last beer probably hadn't been the best idea.

And, in further, more truthful hindsight, neither had been the beer she drank after that one in the parking lot while waiting for their Uber. It had been Dan's challenge to do it under thirty seconds, prompted further by Colt's off-key acapella rendition of We Are The Champions, and though Parker wasn't good at many things, shotgunning a beer was something she was good at.

Who was she to waste a talent?

Her stomach turned at the thought, and she was in the middle of contemplating puking all over Colt's kitchen, when footsteps approached her from behind.

"Well, you look peaky."

Parker groaned low and deep while pressing her face further against the kitchen counter. Jodi offered an amused smile before moving towards the fridge. Despite yesterday, she looked good. Bouncy skin, tousled blonde hair, Colt's t-shirt that didn't so much hang as it laid against her thin legs. Oh, and the happy features of someone that were clearly not suffering from a hangover.

Bastards, Parker thought glumly, the both of them.

"Want some?" Jodi asked, jug of orange juice in hand. She had the benevolence to at least look tired. Though, not nearly enough in Parker's opinion.

"D'rather have a lobotomy," Parker muttered.

Jodi somehow managed a smile and a wince at the same time. "You did drink a lot," she said. The idea of drinking anything had Parker paling, and Jodi quickly moved past it to add, "but it was really fun. I think everyone enjoyed it."

She wasn't particularly in the mood for conversation, but Parker supposed the more she talked, the less she had to think about making herself presentable for work, which meant the less she thought about work itself, so she did her best to tamper down her headache with a slow sip of her water.

"S'definitely better than last year's," she said. There was sunlight streaming through the kitchen blinds, and while Jodi didn't hesitate to pull them up, she responded by pulling her sweatshirt hood further down over her eyes. Another inhuman noise, before, "thanks for helping plan it."

Jodi beamed at the gratitude.

Though, Parker noticed with a growing self-hatred, the Englishwoman seemed to do that naturally. "I'm just glad that I could pitch in. It was a lot of fun. I've never played paintball before."

"Really? Coulda' fooled me. I think my welts have welts."

"Oh," Jodi said, hiding a giggle behind her glass of orange juice. "Sorry about that."

Parker got the feeling that Jodi wasn't very sorry at all. In fact, from the way Jodi and Colt had tore it up on the paintball field, Parker had a strong suspicion that the woman was just as competitive as the boys were.

Waving a hand at her, she said, "don't be sorry. You won, afterall."

"Oh, did we?" she chirped. "I barely noticed."

"Hmph."

"I didn't hit you too hard did I?" she asked, actually sounding curious as she leaned onto the counter.

There was a very large bruise on Parker's back side that would argue differently, but Parker instead shook her head. It sent the room spinning, however, and she just as quickly had to lay her head back onto the counter. "Had me a little scared out there, though. If anyone on set has ever given you shit before, you should just take a paintball gun with you to work."

Jodi laughed. "There are one or two," she said. From the look in her eye, it was obvious she could name them, but she didn't. Instead, her eyes darted to Parker.

"Ah," she said. "Well, you had your chance yesterday to shoot him too. I hope you took the opportunity."

At the joke, Jodi seemed to relax a bit. Her mouth tugged into a crooked smile as she popped some bread into the toaster. "I tried, but he was a little harder to get than I thought he would be..."

Her voice trailed off, and Parker arched a brow. "What?"

"Er, well, I guess I was a little surprised that you invited him. We all were, I think."

Unbidden guilt crashed down onto Parker's shoulders, and she caught her face in her hands. "I know, I know, I'm sorry... It was a last minute thing. He had stopped by the store and then we were just talking and, well, I don't know..."

Jodi's back was to Parker, but she peeked over her shoulder with curiously arched brows. "I didn't realize you were friends. Certainly not after that introduction on set."

Just the thought of that introduction had Parker grimacing. Worse still was the realization that somehow, somewhere in her mind, that Tom was in no way connected to the Tom she had brought alongside her last night. It was as if they were two totally different people, and the reminder that they were actually the same person had her stomach rolling.

Or, that could have been the hangover. Whatever.

Parker picked at a loose thread on her hoodie. "Was Colt upset?"

"That you brought Tom?"

"I didn't ruin the night, did I? I know that he can be a total prick, and that everyone else has bad feelings towards him from work, but... well, I guess I was hoping that everyone else enjoyed last night as much as I did. I mean, I know he's a prick, but he's at least okay to be around sometimes."

"Can you remember?" Jodi teased from beside the coffee maker. It beeped as she fiddled with it, before she was puling mugs out of the cabinet. Obviously, she had been here before.

"Does Colt hate me?"

Her smile was soft and graceful. "No, he doesn't hate you. I'm not sure he could, if I'm honest. He talks about you a lot, you know."

Parker didn't think that was necessarily a good thing, but she wasn't about to scold her brother for talking about her on dates. Not when he was actually going on them and she was at home marathoning trashy reality tv.

"And, as for last night," Jodi continued, "everyone did have a lot of fun. No nights were ruined."

"Not even...?"

"The Uber driver was actually quite nice about it," she said, skipping over the issue entirely. A good thing too considering the thought of last night made Parker woozy, and she certainly didn't want to relieve that car ride home. Or the two stops they had to make for her and Colt to throw up on the side of the road. "Honestly... I was pleasantly surprised."

Parker frowned. "By the Uber driver?"

"By Tom," she corrected with a laugh.

"Really?"

Jodi shrugged. "Granted, I don't know him nearly as well as Colt, and he was an awfully sore loser. I mean—really awful—you should have heard him after paintball."

"Oh, I did," Parker said. "I just blocked it out."

"And yet..."

Parker arched her brows.

Jodi smiled, then shrugged once more. "He wasn't nearly as bad as I thought he would be. Losing, I mean. He didn't threaten to fire anyone or sue anyone—"

"Speak for yourself," she muttered under her breath, cup of liquid antacid looking more unappealing by the second.

"And by the end of the night... well, I think he was actually getting along with some of the others. Not really well, mind you. He is still a prick."

Parker snorted. "I don't think anyone was doubting that."

"But a manageable one. It actually felt like he was hanging out with us, you know, rather than dictating on set."

Parker tried not to sound too hopeful as she tugged on her thread. "Yeah?"

Obviously, she failed, because when Jodi smiled there was something conniving to it. Something suspicious twinkling her eyes. Yet, the woman didn't dig in deeper. Just moved on. "He might not admit it, but I think Colt was more pleased than he let on when Colt said he was a great stuntman. I was too. Mind you, on our last film, Ryder asked Colt if he could get a jaw implant to look more like himself."

Parker made a face. "Yeah, I heard about that."

"I think this was the first time he ever complimented Colt. In, like, a decade of working together. Can you believe that?"

She could. The guy was a prick. But also, Parker didn't want to believe it—struggled to envision that as the same guy that had come to her bookstore twice now—and so she sipped her water so she didn't have to respond.

Jodi, however, noticed all of that. "Since when have you two been friends?"

"Friends? We're not—it's not—we just... know each other."

"Hm," Jodi hummed, clearly not buying it. "Yet you brought him to Colt's birthday party. And apparently you talk."

"I don't plan when he come to the store," she said defensively.

That surprised Jodi, and as she filled the mugs up with coffee, she said, "oh. When you said you were talking I didn't realize you meant in person. You literally dragged him to the birthday party, then."

"I wouldn't say I dragged him," Parker muttered as she accepted a mug. The coffee was low quality and definitely burnt from Colt's stupid machine, but just the smell of it had her feeling better. She cradled the steaming hot mug between her hands with a deep inhale. "What did you think I meant?"

"I thought you meant you were talking on the phone."

"Colt told you about that? It's so weird. I still have no idea how he got my phone number," she mused, chancing a sip. It burned her tongue immediately, but Parker didn't care. She was not a morning person, and didn't function this early unless she had three cups of coffee. Hangover or not. "The prick."

Jodi hedged from her cup of coffee, but didn't say anything.

Parker shrugged. If Jodi didn't want to rail on Tom Ryder being a prick, that was her decision. Moving on, she added, "anyways, I really did appreciate your help with the party, even if I ended up fudging the team numbers by lugging Tom along. You were a life saver with getting everyone's phone numbers."

Whatever Jodi had been thinking passed over, and she smiled. "Yeah, of course. Thanks for letting me help. I know... you know—Colt's your brother—I'm not trying to, er... step on anyone's toes."

It was funny to watch her get flustered, and Parker gave the woman an impish smile as she took another sip of her water. "Colt's a big boy, and he can do whatever he wants," she said. "Besides, I think you're great. Why would I have a problem with you wanting to help plan his party?"

"You think I'm great?" Jodi asked.

To that, Parker rolled her eyes, and though it had the pounding behind her temples start up again, it felt worth it. "You get enough compliments from my brother, you don't need to go fishing for them with me too."

"Me? No. I hate fishing. Detest it, really."

Parker harrumphed, but couldn't help but snicker as she took a deep whiff of her drink. "Well, if you aren't fishing, then I don't need to tell you that he doesn't act like this with just anyone," she said before taking a long sip. Too long, and it burned her mouth immediately. "Fuck!"

"Hot?"

"I thought you weren't fishing anymore," Parker muttered while wiping drool off her chin.

"I was talking about the coffee!" Jodi cried in response. But then she caught the haughty look Parker was shooting her and couldn't help but laugh. The sound hurt her ears, but, god, if everything about the woman wasn't perfect. "You and Colt, honestly. The things that you say are so ridiculous."

She vaguely remembered Tom saying the same thing the night before. A smile pulled at her burnt lips. "Tom would agree. He said something similar last night."

That look returned. "You know, for not being friends you've come a long way from calling him an asshole. I thought you were going to break his nose that day on set."

Parked moaned. "Oh, not you too."

"I'm just saying," Jodi defended from behind a steaming mug of coffee. She blew on it coolly, as though the answer to her question didn't matter in the slightest. "I just couldn't help but notice how well you were getting along last night. Spent a lot of time together, too."

"Shah, because some Englishwoman came and stole my brother from me," she retorted blithely. "I always knew boomers complained about immigrants stealing jobs, but stealing drinking buddies is a little vindictive. Even for the English."

"Oi!" Jodi exclaimed, though it ended in a laugh. "You and Colt spent plenty of time together last night. If I recall, we were trying to get away from you lot and that ridiculous game of yours."

Parker perked. "Game?"

"Something about a cat in the woods."

She thought through the previous night's events, and when the card game came to mind, her stomach rolled a second time. Moaning, she willed herself to disappear into a universe where responsibilities didn't exist. "Ugh, no wonder I feel like I'm dying."

"It was a ridiculous game. The amount you drank was ghoulish."

Something rolled in her stomach. "We don't have to—"

"And the rules didn't make any sense. It's all about drinking, drinking, drinking—"

And yep. That did it.

Parker barely made it to the toilet before she was puking up a stomach full of last night's drinks. The bathroom floor was cooler than the kitchen counter, at least, and as she caught her breath, she vowed to never drink again. Or play that retched game.

From the doorway, Jodi grimaced. "Sorry."

Parker haphazardly waved her off. "S'fine. Just do me a favor and kill Colt for me, will you? The bastard..."

Jodi smiled. "I think he might already be dead."

"What?"

Jodi inclined her head to the left, and Parker turned to find her brother curled into a ball in the bathtub. He was wearing his Miami Vice jacket backwards, and his bucket hat was drawn low over his eyes. He was so pale that she might have actually thought he was dead if it wasn't for the quiet groan of misery he let out.

"He's been in here for an hour," she said in lieu of a proper explanation. "Ran in here, threw up, and then passed out in the shower because it felt nice. I decided to leave him. Just seemed easiest."

Parker didn't doubt that.

"What a fucking idiot," she said instead, and though Jodi didn't respond, when the blonde sipped her coffee, the smug grin she was wearing made it obvious that she agreed.

---

Two coffees, a greasy bagel, and an antacid tablet later has Parker feeling moderately like a human being. The hangover is still there—teasing the inside of her skull every couple minutes—but it's better now. More manageable, at the very least.

Of course, manageable hangovers at work don't make for good working environments, and as the door rings with the sound of a brass bell, Parker adjusts the sunglasses perched on the edge of her nose.

"Hi, welcome in," she says. Though, when she looks she realizes that it's not a customer, but instead a tween girl with far too much trouble in her eyes. "Oh, it's you."

"You could sound a little more enthusiastic about it," Melissa chides, arms jingling with the sound of too many stacked bracelets to count. She looks pretty today—she looks pretty every day—and though Parker isn't in the mood for vibrant conversation, she can't deny that it's always nice to see her most loyal customer. "I am your number one, afterall."

"Number one...?"

"Customer!" Melissa chirps with a smile as if she can hear Parker's innermost thoughts. She swings closer to the counter with dancing eyes. "I have a couple more ideas I wanted to run by you before tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Sunday," Melissa says slowly, blinking. "Hello? Does painting sound familiar to you?"

Parker pinches the bridge of her nose with a sigh. She's all out of interest in paint; the welts on her ribcage haven't been forgotten, and she can feel something tweaking in her lower back from being bent over for hours at a time.

God, she's old.

"I thought we were about finished."

"Finished? Not even close," Melissa corrects her. She settles her tote bag onto the counter. Her nose scrunches distastefully as she glances around. "We only did the walls. We still have to do the shelves. And I think those will take longer since I want to add some cute detailing to them. Have you thought about shelf liners?"

"What the hell are shelf liners?"

"You know," she gestures. "Like wallpaper, but for shelves."

"That sounds expensive."

"And totally worth it. Look," she sticks her phone across the counter, Pinterest page already pulled up, and starts scrolling. The speed at which she's doing it, however, as Parker's eyes going crossed. She sits back with a groan. "It's not that bad!"

"No, no, it's not..." she starts, then stops. "Can we just talk about this tomorrow?"

Melissa pouts. "Fine, but we'll probably need to start painting first thing, since you can't put the books back up until the shelves dry completely."

"Are we sure this is even necessary?"

"Completely," the girl says, and there's no room left for argument as she pops her hip out. "I told you this place looks so much better already, but the shelves will be worth it. It'll really help everything pop. And I have some ideas about stickers we can use to make cute signs for all the book sections."

Parker sighs. "Don't you go to school?"

"Yeah. And?"

"How do you have time for all of this stuff?" she asks, a floppy hand gesturing half-heartedly to the room around them. She doesn't mean to offend Melissa in any way, but she can't imagine that there's a teen girl out there who spends all of her time dedicated to fixing up a dilapidated bookstore. "Shouldn't you be in, I don't know, cheerleading or something?"

Melissa shoots her a tart expression. "Cheerleading is so totally dated, Park. Sexist, too. They just have skinny girls wearing tiny little skirts for the objective male gaze."

"...right."

"Besides," she continues, bracelets jangling as she pops a piece of gum into her mouth. "I love this place."

Even more bewildered, Parker repeats herself. "...right."

"Speaking of—" Melissa says, and when she leans against the counter there's a waft of vanilla and lemon perfume. Parker almost gets sick at the strength of it, and she sips her coffee with a grimace. "When are you going to hire me?"

"I already did."

"For real," Melissa asserts, digging her heels in. "You said you'd think about it, and you've had plenty of time. I mean all you do is hang out here."

"Okay, ouch."

"I want a job."

"Can we talk about this tomorrow too?" Parker whines. She knows she's the adult in the situation, but... well, she really doesn't want to be. The idea of doing math and taxes has her head spinning painfully. "I'm—I have a headache."

Melissa narrows her eyes at that. Smarter beyond her years, the girl doesn't miss much, and when she leans across the counter, Parker wishes her sweatshirt would swallow her whole. "What's up with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You look bad."

"Oh, gee, thanks."

She waves a hand indifferently, and squints. "Not like that. I mean you look like you're sick. Are you sick?"

Her stomach roils, and Parker tries to hide the uncomfortable wince behind another sip of scalding black coffee. "A bit."

"You were fine on Wednesday."

"Must have caught something," she lies. The last thing she needed to do is be blamed for being a bad influence on a teenager.

Melissa furrows her brows, reaching to plant a palm against Parker's forehead. She tries to duck it, but only manages to send the room spinning a second time. "You don't feel like you have a fever."

"Twenty four hour bug I guess," she says, waving a hand as if it really was that simple. It wasn't, and when she bends down to scoop a pile of books off the ground her vision flashes white. Colt was such a fucking bastard. "Ugh."

"Oh. My. God."

She slams her eyes shut, head steepled between three fingers, already knowing what was about to come. Parker really can't handle Melissa's high-pitched tone of judgement, however, and considers just giving the girl the keys to the store right then and there. "Don't."

"Are you—?"

"No."

"—hungover?" Melissa finished anyways. She whispered the word like it was some big secret, but by the way that her eyes widened and her mouth pulled into a sneaky grin, it was obvious that the news was all too interesting to her. Especially when Parker didn't answer her right away. "Oh my god! You totally are!"

The boom of her voice had Parker's head hurting, and she let her head fall into her hands with a groan. It was a saving grace that the store was empty.

Well, not entirely a saving grace considering she needed customers, but...

"What happened?" Melissa pried. "Did you go on a date last night?"

"You think I would get black out drunk on a date?" she asked.

The girl shrugged. "I don't know, maybe it went really well."

Parker rubbed her temple wearily. "You're not going on dates are you? Because you shouldn't be getting black out on the first one, ever. That's dating one-o-one."

"Oh, whatever," she flipped a perfectly manicured hand at Parker before settling further onto the counter. It was obvious that she had sunk her teeth into the subject. The last time she done that, she convinced Parker to repaint the entire store. Hopefully, this one wouldn't be as expensive. "Not a date then. What'd you do?"

Parker sighed. "It was Colt's birthday party."

Melissa ooh-ed with a dreamy smile. "I can't wait until I can drink. Legally, I mean. Obviously I've tried beer before," she said with batted eyelashes. It seemed that she was completely ignoring the very real reality of what happened when one drank too much, and Parker rolled her eyes. "Why did you come in today? When my brother drank a lot at Christmas he was in bed until dinner the next day. Mom said he had the flu, but, like, come on."

Parker gave a half-hearted hum. Any other day a glimpse into Melissa's home life would have amused her—teenagers nowadays really did baffle her—but at the moment she didn't have the mental capacity to do much other than try not to die. "I had to open the shop."

To that, Melissa grinned. "Well, if you had another employee..."

"Oh, please, Melissa," Parker threw up a hand with a groan. "Seriously. Not today. I'm weak willed. I can't have this conversation; I'm not in the right mind, and nothing will be legally binding."

"I'm just saying!" the girl threw up her own hands with a laugh. There was something conniving about it, though. Something glittering in her eyes. "If you had another employee, then you would be able to take a morning off every once in a while. How is that a bad thing?"

"You're taking advantage of me," Parker pointed out with a sour frown.

"Actually, you could argue that I'm trying to help you."

"Hmph."

"But, now that we're on the subject," she continued, eyes flapping like Bambi as she walked a slow circle. Only, Parker got the distinct impression that she was a hen stuck with a fox, and as she wiggled her sunglasses nervously, she tried to remind herself that she was the adult in the conversation. "The store looks way nicer, and you've been getting compliments from people, and I still have a lot more ideas for what else we could do. Don't you think that hiring me would benefit us both? We could start doing work throughout the week which means you would get your Sundays back to yourself."

Parker slumped onto her hands. "Are the devil?"

"Parker," she whined, returning to the counter where she delicately propped her head on two palms, ever the essence of beauty and grace. "Please?"

The throbbing in her head hadn't gone away, and the sweat dripping down her back was as uncomfortable as it was gross. Parker had avoided every mirror in her house that morning knowing that however she looked wasn't pretty, and having someone actually pretty blinking at her made Parker feel slightly violent.

And sick.

And, well, maybe having a second employee around for the days that she was sick wasn't the worst idea out there. Not to mention that Melissa had garnered her lots of compliments over the past couple of weeks, and the store did look the best it ever had. The girl had good ideas, Parker couldn't deny that. And she certainly didn't lack a work ethic. She had been begging for a job for weeks now, and didn't once skimp on her painting responsibilities when they came together on the weekends. If anything, she was giving herself more to do every time she came.

She let out a long, self-suffering sigh. "...alright."

Melissa froze. "Really?"

"Part time, three days a week, and Saturday mornings."

"Really?"

"And I'm not paying more than minimum wage."

Her eyes were the size of saucers, waiting on baited breath, as she asked a third time, "really?!"

Slowly, Parker nodded. "Really."

Melissa jumped, squealing, and if her head hadn't hurt earlier, it was like an elephant coming through in a parade. Hand up, she said, "okay, okay, but you have to stop before I hurl. Seriously, this energy is... not a good way to start out as an employee."

"This is so sick," Melissa said anyway, unfazed by Parker's white-washed face. "I still think we should do liners for the shelves, and little gold accents, but that'll take a while, so maybe tomorrow we just start with painting this section—"

She gestured as she talked, and she talked a lot. And though Parker was only half paying attention, she hummed and nodded when appropriate. Afterall, the store did look so much better, and she could use another employee. Particularly one as clever as Melissa.

Sipping her coffee, she smiled.

Until she felt another wave of nausea.

One of these days, she swore, she would seriously kick her brother's ass.

---

Crave Cafe, only two blocks down from her own bookstore, was like stepping into a different world. The cafe itself was beautifully decorated, vintage artwork on the wall, string of pearls hanging from rope baskets in the corners, with soft LED lights in the shape of lightning bolts and cappuccinos on the wall. Discolored and misshapen mugs could be seen scattered throughout the inside, with every odd table occupied by varying individuals. Chatter echoed throughout over the sound of coffee grinders and a Spotify playlist, and though Parker was always a little sore that Crave's clientele didn't show much interest in her own storefront, she had to admit that it was her favorite place around.

Not just because the coffee was cheap, the bread always freshly made, and the general ambiance, but also because the manager, a young man named Harry, was always happy to see her.

"Don't tell me you're working again today," he said while setting about putting her order together. "I thought you were closed on Sundays."

Parker shrugged. She felt much better today, having a full night's sleep and a long shower, and though she was about to go back to more painting, she was in an arguably good mood. "Melissa's taken over the store, I'm afraid. She keeps seeing stuff on Pinterest that she's wants to try."

"Too scared to tell her no?"

"Is it lame if I say yes?"

Harry laughed, slinging a pink and yellow patterned towel over his shoulder. "I can't say I blame you. Kids nowadays are frightening. I have my own group that hangs around for hours that I'm too afraid to shoo away. When did girls get so intimidating?"

Parker followed his line of sight to a trio of teen girls. They ducked their heads at being spotted, giggles erupting from their table. "I think you're teens are a little different than mine," she pointed out with an arched brow. "Namely, Melissa isn't hoping I'll ask her to the prom."

Harry laughed at that. Parker didn't wonder why there were teen girls ogling him—he was an objectively attractive guy, white teeth, nice tattoos, good sense of humor, and the odd finger painted black, he was practically a knockoff Pete Davidson. Apparently, that was what every girl wanted nowadays. "Not that you know of, anyway," he teased while working the frother. "I'll have to come over and check it out for myself. Bet it looks nice."

She rolled her eyes with a snort. "Anything looks nicer than it looked before," she said. "I did finally get rid of that weird smell though. Score for me. Only took three gallons of Pine Sol and way too many candles. Which, I think are actually toxic but whatever. A wins a win."

He laughed again while sliding her coffees across the counter. "How late do you think you'll be there today?"

"Knowing Melissa? Till midnight. She's a bit of a hard ass."

"Perfect. I'll stop by after my shift."

"That's very presumptuous of you," she chirped, smiling. It was hard not to smile when talking to Harry. She wasn't naive enough to ignore his flirting; particularly when she stopped by three times a week for her caffeine fix. But Harry was like every other surfer in California—flaky, flirty, and trouble. Not her type in the slightest, but he was a friend, and often gave her coffee on the house. "But, if you must, bring me a bagel?"

He winked. "Anything for a pretty girl."

Parker shook her head with a smile and gathered her coffees and sandwiches up before leaving. The table of teenagers shot her dirty looks when she walked by, to which she smiled right back.

The walk back to her shop was short, stalled only when she stopped to pet a slumbering bulldog along the sidewalk. The bell overhead jingled when she entered. Despite the CLOSED sign on the door, she never bothered to lock up when they were painting. If someone was stupid enough to stumble in, she figured they would be stupid enough to fork over some cash on a book or two. And Parker would never say no to cash.

"I got the coffees!" she called when Melissa didn't immediately come to the front. Music played softly on the speakers, but the store seemed empty. Shelves had been shifted to the side with stacks of books off to the other, and the tarp crinkled under her sneakers as she walked over it. "Melissa? Hello? Did you...?"

Trailing back further proved that Melissa wasn't ignoring her, but instead in an adamant conversation.

A conversation with none other than Tom Ryder.

Parker stopped short. "Tom?"

The pair turned to her. Melissa's face was flushed, and her cheeks were split in two from the width of her smile. Her chest was heaving as if she had just been talking nonstop. Which, likely, she had.

And despite the fact that he was being mobbed by a teenager, Tom didn't seem to mind one bit. In fact, he was standing casually bent against the ladder, brows relaxed, shoulders loose underneath his expensive leather jacket. And though she expected him to greet her—like friends did—the first thing out of his mouth was, "I was wondering when you got a sense of style, before realizing that you were outsourcing to this one."

"I—what?"

Tom gestured to the bookstore as Melissa grabbed her Chai latte out of Parker's hands without so much as a thank you. "The color is much more modern, and the gold accenting really brings things together. Could use some better wall decor, but I'd bet anything nice is out of your budget."

Parker blinked. At him. Then at Melissa. "What?"

Melissa, still grinning, waved an emphatic hand at the celebrity standing across from her. "Mr. Ryder—"

"Melissa, come on, I already told you to call me Tom. We're friends, aren't we?"

She paused, flushing under his gentle comment, before tucking some loose hair behind her ear with an even bigger grin. Parker rolled her eyes at the act of it all. "Tom stopped by to talk to you, but since you were out, I let him in. He was wondering what we were painting, so I showed him what we are doing today, and then I showed him what we've done the last couple of weeks."

"Stellar, really," he chimed in. She beamed beneath his praise, and Parker swore a helicopter could have caught the brightness of her teeth from a mile away. "I think she's done a great job so far."

"I helped," Parker reminded him indignantly. Not just because he was quite obviously playing it up for the attention, but also because she was so thrown by his presence in the first place that she felt uncomfortable having walked in on them talking. "Paid it for it, too."

He acted like he hadn't even heard her. "I'll have to come back when it's finished. What design of shelf liner do you'll think you'll get?"

"I'm not totally sure. I really like the dark, forest style, with the birds and branches. But I also think that the brighter gold style would look good set against the books."

"Wait, I thought I said no to the shelf liners?" Parker interrupted.

"To which I reminded you that it would look so good," Melissa shot back. When she remembered who she was talking to, however, she gestured shyly to Tom. "Besides, he thinks it would look good too. So, that's two opinions against one, right?"

"What—he doesn't work here!" Parker exclaimed, feeling a bit like she had stumbled into the Twilight Zone. Since when did Tom Ryder have any opinion about her store besides thinking it was dirty? And since when did she care about his opinion in the first place? "It doesn't matter what he thinks."

"Should," Tom added. He looked much too smug in that moment, yet, when Melissa glanced at him, his smirk became gentler. "I mean, I do have a good eye for this sort of thing. And I'm a paying customer. Doesn't hurt to listen to your customers every once in a while does it?"

"I have the right to kick out customers, you know," she warned.

Melissa didn't like that one bit, and her voice pitched in horror. "Parker! You can't—come on. He's—you know—Tom Ryder," she said, enunciating every syllable as if Parker wasn't aware of who had stumbled into her store when it was supposed to be closed. Tom, on the other hand, pointed right back at Melissa smugly.

As if to say, yeah, I'm Tom Ryder.

Sighing, Parker pinched the bridge of her nose. Yesterday's headache seemed to be coming back full force. "I know who he is, and I don't care. And I think it's time for your break now. Sandwich?"

Melissa glanced between said sandwich, her boss, and her celebrity crush for a long moment, before accepting it with a frown. "Thirty minutes?"

"Sure."

Her mood was obviously glum as she glanced between them both once more before stalking towards the back room. She paused in the doorway. "It was nice meeting you."

Tom, for what he was worth, never missed with a grin. "Likewise. I'm glad that someone working here has a sense of style."

And just that like her glum mood vanished. Melissa smiled, blushed, and disappeared into the back room with a pep in her step. When she was gone, Tom returned his attention to Parker.

"Is that for me?" he asked. Though, he didn't even wait for an answer before he was swiping the coffee out of her hand and taking a sip. If looks could kill, it was a good thing there was already a tarp spread out beneath his feet. He furrowed his brows. "Is this an americano?"

"Yes. Mine," she snarked, grabbing it back with a huff. "Why would I have gotten you a coffee? I didn't even know you were here."

He shrugged. "Feeling generous?"

"Why are you here? We're technically closed today."

"The door was unlocked," he said, and Parker's thoughts returned to her earlier sentiments. Stupid indeed. "I do like the paint. Looks cleaner. Not so sad, anymore."

"My store wasn't sad."

"Alright, ugly."

She trailed towards the front counter with a sigh. Part of her was amused—it was nice to have someone to banter back and forth it, particularly someone like Tom—but the more sane part of her was annoyed. Only he would come drink her coffee and then insult her bookstore.

And only he would be allowed to do that. Why was that?

"Are you here for more book recommendations?" she asked, forcibly moving the conversation along as she began to unwrap her turkey, cheese, and bacon sandwich. The bread crumbled in her hands, and Parker's stomach growled at the smell. "Obviously it's a little messy right now, but I could pull a few more out for you."

He shook his head; both to shake loose fringe out of his eyes and to give her a undiscernible look. "You seem to have recovered from the party Friday night. I was pretty certain either you or Colt would be dead by now."

"And yet you didn't call," she deadpanned. "How touching."

Tom's mouth quirked at the side, and he took another long sip of her coffee. He didn't even seem to care that it wasn't his own. "Is he alright then?"

She hummed around a bite of turkey. "By the time I left yesterday morning he was sleeping it off in the bathtub. So, not really any different than last year."

"What did you do last year?"

Parker couldn't really remember, she just knew that there was a whole lot of alcohol involved, and someone set off fireworks that got them in trouble with the neighbors. "Had a poker night, I think. I don't really remember much after someone got the absinthe out though."

To that, he did laugh. Though, he shook his head and glanced away as if he didn't want her to know that he did. "I always thought that Colt was trouble, but you're no better, are you? The two of you last night drank half a cooler worth of beer."

She shrugged, completely unperturbed. Mostly because she knew he was teasing, and only slightly because she knew his partying habits would outshine hers any day. "If I recall I was asking you to drink more with us," she pointed out with a snooty look. "You were the one refusing to join in. Something about the drinks being too low brow or something."

"It wasn't the brand that kept me from drinking," he retorted. Parker didn't believe that for a second though, and when he caught the arch of her eyebrow, he rolled his eyes. "I couldn't keep up with your stupid game, alright?"

"Just admit that you're a lightweight, Ryder. I won't judge you."

"I'm not a lightweight."

"Acceptance is the first step."

"You're so fucking annoying," he said with an eyeroll. But then he was peeking at her over the counter and when their gazes met, the pair dissolved into a fit of laughter. It was a nice sound; one that she quite liked earning. Parker remembered he laughed a lot at the beach, even if she didn't always remember why he was laughing. "Whatever. You better not drink that much at my party or else I'll have you kicked out myself. Just because there's any open bar doesn't mean you need to drink everything in sight, yeah?"

Parker furrowed her brows at him. "Party?" she asked.

Tom shifted on his feet, pushing off where he had been leaning on his elbows to pluck a nearby book off the counter. Absentmindedly, he flipped through it. "My party on Friday. To announce my part in the movie. You and Colt are coming, aren't you?" he said, as if this was a conversation they had before, and not something he was springing on her out of the blue.

Her first response was to make some sort of scathing response about how she wouldn't be caught dead at one of his parties. But, Parker couldn't help but notice how he shifted on his feet, how he was avoiding her gaze.

What could someone like you ever have to be anxious about? she had asked him that fateful day in the bathroom. It was so out of character then.

But now?

Tom Ryder was an asshole, but he was also a person.

She set her sandwich down onto the parchment paper. "I didn't realize we were going to be invited. Is that alright with Gail?"

He responded with a derisive snort. "It's my party. Besides, there's over a hundred people on the guest list. She won't even realize you're there. As long as you don't dress like you normally do, that is."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

His blue eyes swept over her hair, to her paint stained sweatshirt that he had now seen her wearing twice, and then to the store around them. "It's going to be an upscale party. Important people are going to be there. I can't have you and Colt running around like idiots, getting drunk, and ruining mink rugs."

"Do you have mink rugs?" she shot back.

"Of course I don't have mink rugs."

"Then problem solved," she said, waving a hand at him. It certainly didn't answer all of his points, however, and when Tom stopped flipping through his book to shoot her a glare, Parker conceded with a sigh. "Alright. We'll dress nice. I won't spill anything on my pants. And Colt will be on his best behavior."

"Good."

"On one condition."

Tom's eye twitched. "You can't be serious."

"Colt get's a plus-one," she said anyway, ignoring the knit of his brows or the pull of his mouth. He responded just as she expected, with a long suffering sigh and an eyeroll. "Oh, come on! He'll bring Jodi, and no one is better at keeping an eye on him than her. Plus, you're right. We're not going to know anyone there. We'll stay in our own little pathetic poor people bubble. And if you do get annoyed with us, you can kick me out yourself. I bet you'd love that."

He sighed a second time, relaxing onto the counter. "I don't invite set hands to my house," he pointed out. Though, it was a bit of a moot point, wasn't it? Considering the fact that he was doing just that—and, if Parker had to guess—without Gail's stamp of approval. Not to mention the fact that his tone was soft. Not harsh or judgmental.

Just arguing for the sake of arguing.

Parker smiled at him. "First time for everything, right? I'll even tip off the pap. You might get some good press out of this," she teased.

And though he was playing the victim, Tom's mouth curved into a crooked smile anyway. Still, he made a roll of rolling his eyes a second time. "Fine. But seriously? Best behavior."

She wiggled her fingers at him in a mock salute. "Promise."

They stared at one another. His eyes, deep and bright, searching for something she wasn't quite sure. Her own, light and gentle, taking in everything. It never cased to surprise Parker just how handsome he was—no matter how much she wished that she was just making it up, or that his ego wasn't deserved—Tom Ryder was beautiful.

And when he smiled, she couldn't help but think he looked so much better like this than he did in all those over-touched advertisements. Here, now, he looked happy. Effortless. Real as he took another sip of his coffee. Eyes crinkled and teasing, mouth curved around the plastic lid, hair air dried but perfectly swept towards his temples.

He was—

"Hang on a minute. That's my coffee you ass!"

The ass, knowing now that he had been caught, set the empty cup back onto the counter with an empty thud, before attempting to make off with her sandwich too. And as he laughed, she was certain that she was finally starting to see the real Tom Ryder.

She kept that in mind when she let him see the real Parker Seavers, and leapt across the counter after him.

[vivwritesfics]

Waiting For The Sun

Chapter Four

Rhett Abbott has been hearing his soulmate in his head for ten years. She's the sweetest thing, nicknamed Muffin after her love of baking. Rhett doesn't know who Muffin is, doesn't know where she is, but hearing her voice always makes his day better. But then Trevor Tillerson is killed and Rhett's life is thrown into chaos. Through it all, Muffin in there for her soulmate. She wants nothing more than to find him, even through the chaos.

Soulmate AU

Warnings: smut, masturbation (guided), the bit where he snogs maria (yk), the piss scene (yk)

Series Masterlist

Rhett Abbott was twenty-one years old. His twenty-first birthday, to be exact. June twelfth, the day he had his first legal drink. He'd had alcohol before this, thanks to Perry and that fact that, when he went a few days without shaving, he looked older than twenty-one.

His poor soulmate had put up with so much from his over the year. She was there for his first drink, where she had to hope he was underage (simply because she was, too). He'd assured her that he was underage and that he'd let her know when he wasn't underage any longer.

He bought his first drink and downed it in one. It had very little effect and he quickly ordered another. And then another.

It fucking sucked that he couldn't tell his soulmate that it was his birthday. What he wouldn't give to hear her sing Happy Birthday in her sweet voice. He tried to tell her without saying it outright, tried to tell her that he was finally legal, but even that didn't work.

As far as she was aware, he was just getting drunk. An underage kid taking things too far. He wasn't, and he couldn't fucking tell her.

The kicker came when Perry ordered them tequila. They did the works, the salt, the lime, and threw them back in whatever order it went.

He remembered getting to bed that night, but he didn't remember anything he'd said to his soulmate before that. Everything he'd said to his Muffin in the bar was a blur, but he wouldn't forget anything that happened next.

It's my birthday, he tried to say to her. But it didn't work. He was growing increasingly frustrated as he struggled out of his jeans. When he let out a rather dramatic groan, she giggled in his head. You okay? She asked through her laughs.

No, he wasn't okay. He wanted to sulk like a child about it, but he was an adult now, wasn't he? He couldn't sulk like a child, even if he really, really wanted to.

Baby, Muffin, my love, he began, I need something from you.

What do you need, Cowboy? She asked him, and he couldn't help but be surprised that she was still awake.

Rhett sucked in a breath. He knew it was a huge ask, he knew there was a chance that she'd never want to talk to him again, but his drink addled brain made him at least try.

Have you ever touched yourself, Muffin?

There was a pregnant, anxiety inducing pause. This was it, he thought to himself. This was the point where she turned around and told him that she didn't want to be his soulmate. He couldn't blame her for that.

I... Hearing her voice was such a damn relief, but he was still incredibly anxious. I haven't, she finally answered. I don't know how.

She hadn't told him to fuck off, hadn't called him a creep and told him she never wanted to talk to him again. Rhett sucked in another breath. Do you want me to teach you how?

He almost couldn't believe it when she gave a meek yes. Yes. She had really said yes. She wanted him to teach her how to touch herself. Rhett had been dreaming about this moment for years now. He could never tell her, he knew. She really would think him a creep after that.

Tell me what you're wearing, baby, he mumbled as he wrapped his fingers around himself. But something about this, about fisting his cock while he taught her to touch herself, felt so wrong. This moment was for her, not him.

She told him exactly what she was wearing, stuttering out the colour of her underwear. Not a matching set, she'd said, somewhat embarrassed.

I wish I could see it. His voice was low and gravelly in her mind. I bet you look so damn pretty.

He didn't tell her to touch herself right away. No, he had her slowly peel off her bra and touch herself, describe all the sensations she was feeling as she groped her own breasts. She'd done it before, she admitted shyly, but never like this. Never with his guidance, never creating these feelings in her.

A weak moan sounded in his mind. Holy fuck, Muffin, he moaned right back, but his hands were behind his head. He was so hard, it was painful, but he didn't touch himself. Can you tell me if you're wet?

She didn't answer.

Muffin?

I-I've never done this bit before.

He shouldn't have found it cute, but it really was. It was so damn cute. It's okay, I got you, he replied, lip pulled between his teeth and eyes squeezed shut. He just wished he could picture her face as she did it. As she slipped her hand beneath the underwear that didn't quite match her bra and felt just how wet she was.

Rhett could almost feel it on his fingers. Shit, she squeaked and he held back a laugh. I'm wet.

I bet you are, Muffin.

He told her what to do, told her how to touch herself. Moans and desperate whines filled his head, and Rhett would have given anything to hear them out loud. Would have given anything to hear her moan his name.

He talked her through it until she quietened. Oh, so that was how she came. He could picture it, mouth falling open in a silent moan as her body stopped writhing. His mind strayed to Maria, but he quickly banished the imagine of her from his mind.

That was...

He grinned as he threw off his blankets, the night air in June too hot. That good, Muffin? He asked, tongue poking out to wet his lips.

There was a moment before she answered him. Better than good, Cowboy, she replied. But you can't tell anyone! She said in his head, words quick.

It wasn't long until she fell asleep. She must have already been tired, Rhett guessed as he looked at the alarm clock on his bedside table. And that must have worn her out. Tired, baby? He asked as he looked down at himself, so damn hard.

She didn't reply and he knew she was asleep. He released a breath and moved his hand, the memory of the noises she was making enough to keep him going.

***

He was riding that night. Twenty-Four year old Rhett was at the rodeo, mind quiet. Wherever his soulmate was, she wasn't speaking to him, busy in that moment.

That was okay, though. She was quiet when he rode, anyway, letting him concentrate on staying on the bull.

He looked towards the crowd. It was hard to make out any faces in the dark, but he could see Maria, clear as day. That was fine, they were friends now, weren't they? This was the thing that friends did.

(Let me clear something up. There was a chance that Rhett needed glasses. His eyesight wasn't so bad that he couldn't function without them, but it was bad enough that he knew he needed them. But he didn't have time or the energy to go and get his eyes tested. Plus, cowboys didn't wear glasses).

He mounted the bull. Riding now, Muffin, he said as he secured himself on. there was no way he was going to come off, not until he was ready.

There was a small, quiet Good luck! but then she was gone again. Where his Muffin went, he didn't know. His eyes met Sheriff Joy's. His Muffin gone, Sheriff Joy watched him so closely. Fuck, he couldn't do this.

The gate opened and the bull launched into action. Bucking, throwing his body around. He kept his arm in his air in an aid to keep himself balanced, moving his body with the bulls. It was expert, the way he kept himself on. His hat flew off, but he didn't much care. There was no way he was coming off this damned bull.

When the buzzer buzzed, he jumped from the bulls back. It wasn't graceful, but it wasn't supposed to be. He picked himself up from the sand, scooped up his Stetson and turned his attention to the score bored.

Rider 44. R. Abbott. 82.5.

Top of the motherfucking leader board.

His fist beat against his chest as he turned his attention to the crowd that watched him. Top of the fucking leader board, and almost everybody he cared about was there to watch him. It was a feeling he'd never get enough of, a high he wanted to chase.

Running on pure adrenaline, he ended up in The Handsome Gambler with Maria. They were just friends, that was all. She wasn't his soulmate, he knew, and there was nothing wrong with the two of them getting drinks together.

Muffin? He tried as he took their drinks to their table.

Hey, Cowboy, she replied as he placed the drinks down and slipped into the seat opposite Maria. Sorry, today got a little crazy.

Maria was talking to him, and he should have been listening. He tried, he tried really damn hard to not be rude, but his Muffin was talking to him, and he couldn't not listen to her. He nodded along to whatever Maria was saying as his Muffin told him about her day.

I snuck out.

His eyes bulged out of his head and he just had to hope that Maria didn't notice. He cleared his throat and agreed with whatever she was saying. What do you mean you snuck out? Are you okay? Are you safe? He asked in quick succession.

Maria asked him a question, but he didn't answer for a moment. So, she repeated the question (something about bull riding, about his aspirations) and Rhett scrambled for an answer. And, as he spoke, so did his Muffin. Yeah, I'm fine. I went to see my sister.

Her sister. Rhett finished his drink and went up for another. He knew the story of her sister, that she'd found her soulmate and run off, leaving her family behind.

She's married now, had a baby. She told me if anybody but me picked up the phone, she would have hung up.

Rhett sucked in a breath. He knew what her family was like, what her father would do if he found out she snuck out. If he could have taken her away from it all, he would have. But he didn't know where she was, didn't know how to get her out.

He grabbed his drink and sat back with Maria. Just let me know you're okay, okay? He asked as he sat back down in the seat opposite Maria. Got me worried now.

She let out a giggle, but it was only weak. Relax, cowboy. I'm okay, I promise. There was a moment of nothingness where Rhett said something quick and meaningless to Maria. Are you busy?

He shook his head and Maria furrowed her brow at him. Not busy, Muffin. Just out with an old friend.

I'll leave you to it, Cowboy. Let me know when you're home?

Rhett had several drinks after that. He and Maria both did. The more she had, the more flirty she got. But the conversation got more and more relaxed. Before he knew it, he was openly admitting that he once thought that Maria was his soulmate.

She laughed at that, hand falling onto his own. "I haven't found my soulmate," she admitted, hand still in his. Rhett didn't move and she didn't move, either. "And I know you haven't found yours."

He shook his head. "Still workin' on it," he answered and drained the rest of his glass.

She pursed her lips, fingers dancing across his palm. It might have been soothing, if he wasn't so gone. "You haven't found your soulmate yet, and I haven't found mine," she mumbled, staring into his eyes. "We're both adults, we both have needs."

Maria was gorgeous, but she wasn't his soulmate. Still, she was right. They both had needs that weren't being fulfilled without their soulmates there.

When she stood, hand still in his, he stood with her. Almost in a trance as he followed her out of The Handsome Gambler.

The cool night air kissed his flushed skin, but he had no time to appreciate it as Maria wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in close, backing herself up against the wall of The Gambler.

Her lips were on his. Maria held his cheeks as he leaned down, his hat almost hiding the both of them from any view. His hands were on her hips, holding her against the wall. A grunt left his lips, body pressing against hers.

"Muffin."

He hadn't meant to grunt it out loud. Certainly hadn't meant to grunt it in his head. Maria pulled away from him with a deep frown written on her pretty features.

Yeah?

It was almost startling when his Muffin answered him. Rhett blushed furiously as Maria pulled away from him. "I'll see you later, Rhett," Maria said as she walked away.

The shock of accidentally calling out for his soulmate wasn't enough to shock him into sobriety. No, Rhett was stumbling as he tried to make his way... where, exactly?

Fuck, he needed to go.

Leaning against the nearest thing, which just so happened to be a cop car, Rhett freed himself from his jeans and just went. He shut his eyes and threw his head back as he relieved himself into the road. Shit, how much had he had to drink? Clearly a lot, if this was to go by.

But then the door of the car opened. He looked up, almost in a daze, certainly in a drunken haze, as the cop climbed out. "What the hell?" He mumbled before he turned to see the handsome, drunk cowboy. "You're pissin' on my car, Rhett."

"Ah, shit," he mumbled as he looked around. "I'm sorry, I didn't... I didn't realise."

"Well, stop pissin', then."

Rhett released a breath. He couldn't. As embarrassing as it was, he couldn't. But he was drunk, and a bull rider. So, that was exactly what he told the cop. "Not so easy to turn off the faucet after ridin' bulls," he mumbled and released a laugh. He hadn't exactly meant to release this laugh, but he couldn't help himself.

"You think that's funny?"

He didn't exactly roll his eyes, but he was close. "Ah, come on," he said, adjusting himself slightly. "It's a little funny." And again, he laughed. But he was still goddamn pissing.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was how Rhett Abbott found himself in the sheriffs station.

Rhett Taglist: @finnydraws

@writtingrose

@nurse-sainz

@biancathecool

@xoxabs88xox

@afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff

Series Taglist: @nessjo

@butterflykale1doscope

@eternallyvenus

@daughterofapollo-7

@babybluemissy

@anonymousmuffinbear

@cloudroomblog

@harveysgirl101

[faerunsbest]

Okay but inexperienced Rolan with reader who has to talk him through touching her for the first time. He’s so nervous and keeps asking if different things are okay and won’t stop rambling while she is silently losing her mind over how good he is, then finally she shuts him up with a passionate kiss. (I feel like Rolan would be talkative)

"Go on, keep doing that... with your tongue. And yea. ..oh"

Rolan Looks up at the woman from his place between her legs, hands on her thighs. His tongue works at her clit, occasionally laying flat to swipe up before revealing something he's kept hidden. His forked swiping and flicking, dick twitching and dripping at the noise. Her hand in his hair gripping but not pulling.

As he works he keeps his eyes locked on hers, watching her eyes glaz over before she cums against the roof of his mouth.

Rolan swallowed and leans back on his heels unsure if that's all he gets, he doesn't mean to whimper as she shudders on the edge of the bed. She smiles down at him, perching herself up on her elbows and spreading her legs.

For a moment he's quiet before asking

"Miss? I... can i?"

Another smile for him.

"Are you going to be alright? You look fit to burst sweetie."

"Well I think so but I've never Done this before so I don't really know I suppose."

A soft chuckle as she motions him forward, hand immediately wrapping around his cock as he stands. She raises an eyebrow at him when she swipes her thumb over his leaking tip.

"...I think I might have a clue but it's alright."

"Please?"

His fingertips are set on her knees, he's already rollings his hips, fucking her curled fist. The face he's making, he was smug earlier it's difficult not to enjoy the image of him now.

"Slow down, come here. It's best to get all the way up here I think."

Rolan follows her to the center of the bed

"Can I touch you now? Please...please"

She laid back for him, reach up to his face to pull him close. Guiding his face to her breasts.

"Go on then, I'd like you to play with me okay "

He's already kissing, licking and sucking her nipples while her fondles her. He doesn't see her biting her lip at the feeling of his ridged cock sliding over her wet cunt.

"Ah, your, soft...still wet."

He buries his face against her neck inhaling deeply, mumbling about her good she smells. The ridges of leaking dick now purposely sliding back and forth against.

She can feel another orgasm on the way, but the hell was he talking about?

"Rolan darling, you want to put in now?"

"Yes, yes please."

Now he shifted his position, grabbing her knees and lifting them as parted her open for him.

"I'm not hurting you? Is this uncomfortable?"

He asked one question after another as he pressed the tip of himself in, pausing his onslaught of inquiry only to moan as he felt himself slide into warm, inviting softness.

"Ah, ah"

"Good boy, hold on now. Don't finish just yet..."

"Okay..."

His brow knit, sweat beginning to bead on his temple as he struggled to contain himself.

" I've never felt so-"

"I know sweetie"

" miss, you feel so good I don't understand-"

He was rambling again, once he seemed slightly calmer. Asking questions and saying things she wasn't quite listto. She was distracted by the feeling if his heated length buried deep and throbbing.

Rolan bit his lip when she wiggled her ass against him, signaling him to go on and get started. His start was slow and careful almost searching for something, he listened as her breath hitched.

"There? "

He began to speed up, asking over and over if he was doing it right. The woman grabbed his face again, pulling him down

"SHUT UO AND FUCK ME YOU BEAUTIFUL IDIOT!"

Rolan found his mouth flush against hers,tasking her tongue. Taking her word he parted only enough to push her knees down against the mattress and put up against her. He knew so far one spot and aimed for it, she was huffing, panting and moaning so loud he couldn't believe.

Though he was sure he wouldn't hold out much longer, rolan was beginning with to lose his rhythm, pumping and thrusting wildly into her.

When she threw her head back , almost screaming, in ecstasy, he pulled out and sprayed his hot finish across her stomach and breasts. He came so hard his vision went white, now not more than jelly he collapsed on top of her, still dribbling cum as he lay there.

Rolan grinned to himself when reached up to pet his hair.

"Mmm good boy"

[prouvaireafterdark]

please do you have any PE headcanons about louis and lestat and claudia to share? I think we all need some right now after this new episode

Oh for SURE, here's a bunch.

Lestat was originally reluctant to adopt Claudia because he thought he'd be too much like his own father as a father and always told himself he would "break the cycle" by not having kids.

Louis on the other hand, who also had a difficult childhood with his mother's emotional abuse, sees having kids as more of a way to heal his own inner child. He feels he and Lestat can do better for Claudia in a way no one did better for them.

Ultimately, Lestat said yes not only because he loves Louis and would do anything for him, but also because he was taken in by Louis' idea that this would make them a "real family," which is something he's always yearned for.

THAT BEING SAID, once Lestat saw Claudia in Louis' arms he fell totally in love with her. That's his baby girl, goddamn it.

They adopted her from an abusive home when she was about 9 months old, so they're really the only family she's ever known.

She calls Louis "Daddy" and Lestat "Papa."

They're raising her to be bilingual in English and French. When she's old enough, Lestat wants to send her to a local French immersion school, but Louis isn't sold on that yet.

They have a division of labor when it comes to taking care of her. Louis is the one in charge of bath time and changing her diapers (Lestat does it if he must but I fear he's also the type to complain about it the whole time). Louis also reads to her all the time, especially when he puts her to bed, and gives her lots of cuddles.

Lestat is responsible for feeding her when she's not at daycare. On his nights putting her to bed, he sings to her instead of reading a story.

Lestat actually shops and cooks for the whole household, really, until Louis decided to become a vegan one day and then he was like "If you don't want to eat my food, then you cook for yourself" because you simply cannot ask a French man to cook without butter. After Louis' malnutrition-assisted accident, Lestat walked this back super hard and started cooking high iron nutrient-rich vegetarian food for him until Louis started reintroducing meat into his diet.

They also both play with Claudia. Quality time with Louis is usually more chill, like bouncing her on his knee, playing with toys, reading to her etc., whereas Lestat is like swinging her around and tossing her in the air and carrying her over his shoulder by her ankles while she giggles (which may or may not give Louis a minor heart attack every time he sees him do it). Lestat in particular enjoys playing make believe and is always in attendance at her fake tea parties, which she holds with a set of real china Lestat had imported (under supervision only, per Louis' rule, since she might hurt herself if it shatters).

Lestat went back to work at the theatre a few weeks after adopting her so Louis was her primary caretaker for those foundational first few months. Claudia loves her Papa, but the bond she shares with Louis is different because of this.

I have, like, so many more lol

[hrtsfromjules]

Jana x reader who she shares a class with and has always thought was cute. One day they end up having to work together for something in that class and the more they’re together the more she likes the reader. The reader is oblivious though so Jana has to go to the team for advice on how to ask you out

pairing: jana x afab!reader (they/them pronouns used)

warnings: none!

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

jules yaps: yayy first request!!! i'm so happy about it i hope this is what you were thinking of!!💕

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

The familiar sounds of sneakers squeaking against the hardwood floor and the rhythmic bounce of the basketball echoed through the gym. Despite the comforting routine of practice, Jana's mind kept wandering to Y/N, her classmate.

"Jana, your mind's not in the game," Coach called out, snapping her back to reality. She nodded, taking a deep breath, and tried to refocus. But the image of Y/N’s smile kept pulling her thoughts away.

It had all started a week ago when their professor paired them up for a project. Jana had always found Y/N attractive, with their quiet confidence and warm smile. The thought of working together had initially been exciting but had quickly become nerve-wracking for Jana.

"Hey, Jana, do you think this set makes sense?" Y/N asked, leaning over their shared laptop. Jana's heart skipped a beat as she caught a whiff of Y/N's citrusy shampoo.

"Yeah, it looks good," Jana managed to say, hoping her voice didn’t betray her nervousness. As the days passed and they spent more time together, Jana found herself increasingly captivated by Y/N’s kindness and intelligence. However, Y/N seemed completely unaware of her growing feelings.

During a break in practice, Jana sat on the bench, lost in thought. Her teammates noticed her distraction. Aaliyah nudged her. "What's up, Jana? You look like you've got something on your mind."

Jana sighed, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening. "It's Y/N. We've been working on this project together, and I really like them. But I don't think they have any idea how I feel."

Her teammates exchanged knowing glances. Paige grinned, leaning in. "You should just ask them out. What's the worst that could happen?"

Jana bit her lip. "I don't even know how to start. What if they don't feel the same way?"

Azzi walked over to them, patting Jana her on the back. "You'll never know unless you try. How about you invite them to one of our games? It’s a casual way to hang out outside of class."

Jana nodded slowly. "I guess that could work. But what do I say?"

"Keep it simple," Paige advised. "Tell them you’ve got tickets and thought it’d be fun if they came. No pressure."

"But what if I freeze up?" Jana asked, her anxiety rising.

Aaliyah chimed in, "Just remember, they’re your friend first. You've already built a connection. The rest will come naturally."

"Yeah," Azzi agreed. "And if it makes you feel better, we’ve got your back. We’ll make sure you look good out there. Right, guys?"

The team nodded in unison, offering supportive smiles.

Paige added, "You could also use the opportunity to find out more about their interests. People love talking about themselves. It’ll take the pressure off you."

"And if all else fails," Aaliyah said with a grin, "just be yourself. That’s who they’ve been spending time with and enjoying."

Jana felt a little better hearing her teammates' advice. "Okay, I’ll do it. Thanks, guys."

The next day, Jana felt a mix of nerves and excitement as she approached Y/N in the library. She found them engrossed in a textbook and took a deep breath before walking over.

"Hey, Y/N," she said, her voice wavering slightly.

Y/N looked up and smiled warmly. "Hey, Jana. How's it going?"

Jana held out two tickets to the upcoming game. "I was wondering if you’d like to come to our game this weekend. It’d be nice to hang out outside of class."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise but then softened with a smile. "I’d love to, Jana. Thanks for thinking about me."

They were in the library for a bit more time, just talking and spening quality time together. The night soon came, and the library was about to close. "I guess we should get going now." Y/N advised and Jana agreed as she helped Y/N pack her things up from the library stool.

"Do you want me to walk to your dorm with you?" Jana asked feeling a bit bolder than she usually is. Y/N agreed as they started walking towards the building.

They got into the elevator and thinking the same, they both wanted to press the button for Y/N's floor, so theirs fingers connected, sending a shock through both of them.

Soon enough they arrived to her dorm. "Thank you, Jana" Y/N thanked the tall girl, as she embraced her into a tight hug. Jana wa flabbergasted at first but she soon got familiar with the feeling of Y/N's hands around her waist due to their height difference, and too familiar feeling in her stomach even when she just admired the smaller girl. It's almost as if their bodies waned to melt into eachother, like they were made for eachother.

Saturday arrived, and with it, a flurry of nerves for Jana. She glanced at the stands repeatedly during the game, searching for Y/N’s face. When she finally spotted them, her heart did a little flip. Seeing Y/N there, cheering her on, filled her with a new energy, and she played with extra enthusiasm.

The whole game, Jana played her heart out. She showed off a lots of time and she looked good doing it. Seeing Y/N in the stands, clapping and screaming whenever she scored, gave her a kind of confidence like never before.

After the game, Jana quickly showered and changed, eager to meet Y/N. She found them waiting outside the locker room, standig in Jana's jersey, and with a UConn hoodie in their hand.

"Congrats on the win, Jana! You were amazing out there," Y/N said, their eyes shining with admiration.

"Thanks, Y/N," Jana replied, feeling her cheeks warm. She took a deep breath, deciding it was now or never. "So, I’ve been meaning to tell you something. I didn't dare to tell you because i fear it will ruin our friendship and what we have. I'm telling you this right now because now or never. I really like you. I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me sometime. It's more thank okay if you don't want to and you don't feel the same and i also get it if you don't wanna be friends anymore because this changed your perspective about me. And i'm sorry if this-"

"I’d love to, Jana. I’ve actually liked you for a while too, but I wasn’t sure how you felt." Y/N admitted, interrupting Jana in her rant.

Jana’s heart soared, and she couldn’t help but smile widely. "Looks like we were both a bit oblivious."

Y/N laughed softly. "Yeah, I guess so."

As they walked out together, Jana felt a sense of happiness and relief wash over her. Thanks to her teammates' advice and a bit of courage, she was finally on the path to something wonderfull.

The following week had been a whirlwind for Jana, filled with late-night study sessions and early morning practices. Despite the exhaustion, she found herself looking forward to her project meetings with Y/N. They had a natural chemistry that made the hours fly by.

One evening, as they sat in the library, Y/N stretched and yawned. "I think that's enough stats for today. Want to grab a coffee?" Jana's heart raced at the casual invitation. "Sure, I'd love to."

They walked to a nearby café, chatting about everything from favorite movies to childhood memories. Jana found herself laughing more than she had in a long time.

As they sipped their drinks, Y/N looked thoughtful. "You know, Jana, I’ve really enjoyed working on this project with you. I don't usually look forward to group works, but you make it fun."

Jana felt a warm glow at Y/N's words. "Me too. I’m really glad we got paired up." Y/N smiled, and they continued their conversation, unaware of the time passing. When they finally left the café, the sun had long set, and the streets were quiet with just a small amount of cars driving in the street. They walked back to their apartment and it became casual for them to walk eachother to their dorms.

They cofessed their feelings to eachother but deep down both of them wanted to take another step but what if it was too soon?

But seems like, one ordinary Wednesday Jana thought she waited for too long. She had to take Y/N before some else does. Before they could say their goodbyes to eachother, Jana put her hands on Y/N's waist as she stopped them from opening the door. "Wait i hope it's not too soon to ask you this and we can keep our pace slow if that's what you want. But would you be my partner?" Jana asked, her voice sounding anxious as she looked into Y/N's sparkling eyes.

"I would love to, Jana" Y/N smiled up at the brunette, keeping eye contact as their eyes reflected the affection they had for eachother.

Now it was Y/N's time to take a step, they got on their tip toes, to try to reach Jana's face even though she still had to lean down a bit to capture Y/N's lips in hers. The kiss they shared was delicate and soft. I swear if someone was watching, they could see the sparks fly around them.

[amber-tortoiseshell]

Do you have any wc genetics head canon that is really basic to be petty or funny given the context of the character?

My pettiest headcanons are probably those when i look at a canon tortoiseshell tom and say "absolutely not", and make him red or black tabby with white or whatever. (Sol is an exception. I decided to reward myself with one (1) tortie male between the 1500 named characters, and who is more worthy for this than Sol, the evil mastermind (without actually being a mastermind) himself.)

For example Mapleshade's son Patchkit, tortoiseshell in the books, is a red tabby bicolor for me. Although Mapleshade herself is called orange-with-white too in some books, i'll go with tortoiseshell for her (black tortoiseshell tabby bicolor), with more orange than black in her coat. So they still really look alike.

Bonus: a headcanon that I find very funny and entertaining but isn't strictly about colors:

I like to think Ashheart and Ashfur from shadowclan are actually one and the the same cat.

Ashheart is a pale gray cat who is introduced in Yellowfang's Secret where she's a relatively unimportant background character, a little older than Yellowfang. She appears in a flashback in Blackfoot's Reckoning too. Never shown or mentioned in TPB or later.

Ashfur is a gray cat, one of the ShadowClan outcasts who help ThunderClan against Brokenstar. He appears the first two TBC books and in Exile from ShadowClan (set immediately before/during early TPB). Apparently he's an elder and friend of Yellowfang's, but never shown or mentioned before Brokenstar's time.

So I choose to believe that approximately when Brokenstar came to power or shortly after that, Ashheart decided to change name and pronouns, and become Ashfur.

(warrior cat genetics ask game)

[littlemourningstarr]

You're Mine

Is there anything better than damn near tearing the sanity of the one you love to shreds first thing in the morning? Sekh would argue no, there truly isn't.

Read on AO3!

Pairing: Astarion x Transmasc tav

Part of the Eternally Yours series!

Tags: Transmasc tav, Dom/sub undertones, overstimulation, hand jobs, multiple orgasms, anal sex, we suck the strap in this house, dirty talk, praise kink

Sekh stepped out of the early morning sun and into the blissful low light of his home, the door shutting tightly behind him. He was covered in a sheen of sweat from his morning workout, his hair knotted haphazardly at the base of his neck, in nothing but a pair of pants cuffed part way up his calves and short boots.

He ached pleasantly, mostly in his arms and torso. He’d jogged back from the docks, where he spent the morning climbing about as the fishers and traders got ready for their day to begin. He’d become quite friendly with all of them- granted, he knew probably half of them before he’d really set himself to a physical routine.

Hells, he knew far more people than he had ever expected to, at any stage in his life. Word got around when you were a good alchemist.

“Yenna, you up?” he called, getting only silence in response. He headed into the small living room, found a torn piece of paper left on the little table, next to one of his pulsing magenta plants, the writing a scrawl that was just a bit neater than Sekh’s.

He would never live down that even Yenna’s handwriting was better than his.

He picked it up, noted that she had already gone out to get herself into trouble, and set it back down without concern. She was far old enough now that she was free to do as she wished- and he never wanted to coddle her. Besides, she had proven throughout the years that she could keep herself out of trouble- and get herself out of the worst.

Sekh headed upstairs, pushing open his bedroom door. Astarion was still sprawled on his belly, having partially slipped onto Sekh’s side of the bed, his face pushed into the drow’s pillow. Sekh smiled to himself, walked over quietly and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for Astarion’s mass of long, white curls, stroking them gently.

The vampire stirred, lifted his head slightly, pretty red eyes glimpsing Sekh through thick silver lashes. At the sight of his drow Astarion gave a sleepy but free smile, and Sekh moved his hand from his hair, traced Astarion’s jaw with a single finger.

“Good morning sweetheart,” Sekh offered, as Astarion shifted properly onto his side, so he could gaze up at him. Still waking and enthralled looking.

Sekh didn’t think he’d ever truly get used to someone looking at him like that.

“Is it late?” Astarion asked, sliding his hand along the sheet, flipping it palm up- an invitation. Sekh covered the vampire’s hand with his own, let their fingers lace together.

“No. If you’re still tired, go back to sleep.” 

Astarion hummed over that, flashing another toothy smile. “Do you mean that, or are you just trying to get out of spending the morning with your dismal attempts at elvish?” Sekh scrunched his face up in mock annoyance as Astarion laughed. He felt it had only been fair, since Astarion had spent a year learning drowic, that he turn around and learn elvish from his partner.

And Sekh’s pronunciation left… well, plenty to be desired. But he was trying.

“I had meant it, but if you’re going to be an ass, then maybe you should get up and listen to my dismal attempts.” Astarion’s smile turned to a grin as he rolled onto his back, yanking at Sekh’s hand. The drow didn’t fight the pull, sprawled himself over his lover’s bare chest, as Astarion nuzzled into his neck, breathed in the scent of sweat and salt from the bay on his skin. “Astarion I am covered in sweat-”

“Oh I know pet,” the vampire whispered, and Sekh felt the drag of his fangs along his throat- more an affectionate gesture than a sweet threat of the bite.

Sekh didn’t suppress a warm shiver. “And let me guess- you like it.” He pulled his hand free from Astarion’s, shoved at the blanket that was tangled around Astarion’s legs, up along his hips, revealing more pale, naked skin.

It wasn’t a guess- Sekh knew the elf did. He’d made it abundantly clear, plenty of times over the years.

Astarion gave his hips a roll, his cock hard and resting against his belly, as if to prove his point. Sekh chuckled, as Astarion kissed his jaw, before he found his mouth. He was sleepy enough that the kisses were slow, that Sekh could control the pace without any fight. The vampire still tasted faintly of blood, from the night before- a bit of salt and iron, ghosting his tongue.

“Trying to start something?” Sekh whispered against his lips, as he let his fingertips dance over Astarion’s cock. The vampire tried to nip at Sekh’s lip, but the drow pulled back just enough that he missed.

“Always,” Astarion mumbled. Sekh flashed a smile at that, bringing his hand back into view, and making a show of licking his own palm, tongue dragging all the way up his fingers. He reached back down, wrapped his spit-slick hand around Astarion’s cock, and the vampire dropped his head back, eyelids fluttering. He gave a quiet groan as Sekh gripped him tightly, moved his fist in a slow rhythm.

Sekh bowed his head, pressed his mouth to the center of Astarion’s throat, his free hand grasping at the bed as Astarion rocked his hips up with each stroke. Sekh felt the first wave of precum dribble over his knuckles and nearly chuckled to himself, trailing a line of kisses to Astarion’s pulse point, then to his ear. “You’re so wet already,” he teased, and he felt Astarion shivered beneath him.

“That’s- ah,” the vampire forgot his words as Sekh twisted his fist around his cockhead, before picking up his rhythm. Astarion bit his own lip, stifled a noise, before he managed, “that’s my line.”

Sekh laughed, his warm breaths causing Astarion to arch. “You think I’m wet already, love? You haven’t even touched me.” Sekh teased his thumb over Astarion’s cockhead, along his slit, watched the vampire’s eyes roll. “If either of us is a wanton mess, it’s you.”

Astarion reached up, grasped at Sekh’s bare bicep, thumb rubbing along freckled, sweat damp skin as he clung to him. Sekh watched the vampire’s face, as the need melted into relief when he came, mouth falling open, lips curled into the faintest of smiles. It made his chest warm, tight, to see Astarion just feel good- and to know that the vampire didn’t need to make a show of dragging this out. He could come as quickly as he liked, and Sekh would always be pleased.

Sekh stilled his hand as Astarion relaxed, until he was simply holding his softening cock, thumb teasing along the bundle of nerves just under his head. Astarion bit his lip over the continued touch, a single fang poking out-

Gods, he was adorable. He’d be livid if Sekh said as much- but it was true.

“Should I stop?” Sekh asked, his voice dropping low, feeling like it was simply a rumble from his chest, “Or…”

“Or?” Astarion asked, pretty sanguine eyes intrigued. Sekh smirked, taking the look his lover gave him was answer enough. He released his cock, sat up and took a moment to examine the pearly mess on his hand.

And, holding Astarion’s stare, licked it off his knuckles. The bitter salt made him hot to his core, his cunt screaming for attention as Astarion groaned. “I do love how you taste,” Sekh mumbled, before he sucked at his fingertips, getting the last bit of remaining cum.

Astarion tipped his head back. “Again, my line pet.” Sekh flashed a smile, before he climbed off the bed, pausing at Astarion’s bedside table. He pulled open the drawer, fingers plucking out a bottle. He closed the drawer, popped it open, then offered it out to Astarion, whose eyes had gone slightly wide with excitement.

“Get yourself ready for me, love.” Astarion sat up, took the bottle, and Sekh turned away, crossed the room. He kicked his boots off, unbuttoned his pants and shoved them and his underwear down, leaving him naked as he bent over, unlatching a chest. As the hinges creaked, he heard Astarion’s choked breath, knew the vampire was at least two fingers deep inside himself.

And as much as he wanted to watch, he found he was feeling impatient.

He took his time, buckling his arness around his waist, his thighs. He ignored how desperately his body screamed at him to touch his soaked cunt, to plunge his fingers into himself, instead letting the damn near frustration drive him.

He secured his cock in place, before he turned around, felt his stomach going into agonizing knots over the sight Astarion had made of himself. He had one leg stretched so far open it had to have his hip aching, the other with a heel dug into the bed, giving him leverage as he thrust two of his fingers quickly into himself.

Sekh had barely breathed, when the vampire added a third- as if he’d waited, made a point to have Sekh’s eyes on him for the final stretch. Sekh crossed the room, not climbing onto the bed but pausing at the head, reaching down and gently turning Astarion’s face, so he could see those lust clouded eyes.

Wordlessly, he moved his fingers back, tangled them in Astarion’s hair, guided his head forward. The vampire moved with ease, pressed his lips to the head of Sekh’s false cock, staring up at him through thick silver lashes the entire time. He stuck his tongue out, dragged it along the underside of the toy’s cockhead, and Sekh tipped his hips forward, pushing the head at Astarion’s mouth.

Without hesitation, the vampire opened his jaws, let the toy stretch his lips as it slid over his tongue, until half of the shaft was inside. Sekh bit his lip, not even caring that he couldn’t feel this- the sight of Astarion was enough, as he sucked gently, continued to slide further and further down the false cock, until it was nudging the back of his throat.

Sekh growled wordlessly, pulled Astarion off his cock roughly, the vampire’s lips reddened, glistening with sweat. “Are you ready for me?” Astarion managed a single nod, and Sekh let go of his hair. “Hands and knees, darling.”

Astarion pulled his fingers from himself, scrambling up, as Sekh reached for the bottle Astarion had set back on his bedside table. He poured an overly generous amount of oil onto his false cock, wanting to leave Astarion’s ass a wet mess by the time he was done with him.

He set the bottle down, turned his attention back to Astarion, who had listened like a true darling, was situated on his hands and knees, watching Sekh over his shoulder eagerly. The drow flashed a smile, sliding behind him and grasping his ass with both hands, kneading the flesh. Astarion bit at his lip again, as Sekh parted supple flesh, let one of his thumbs push at Astarion’s wet hole.

The vampire gave a breathy fuck, and Sekh lined himself up, thought for a moment about teasing him, about rubbing against his hole, getting just the head in-

Instead, he wordlessly eased the toy into Astarion, until the man’s ass was pulled back, flush to his pelvis. Astarion dropped his head, eyelids fluttered, mouth falling open in a wordless groan over the stretch, as Sekh rubbed his hands up over his ass, along his back. “Okay?” he asked, fingertips grazing along the edges of Astarion’s scars. The vampire managed a weak yes, and it was all Sekh needed. He eased his hips back, before pushing forward, sheathing himself fully back inside Astarion.

The vampire pushed back, hands grasping at the sheets, panting already. Sekh moved his hands to his waist, squeezed and dragged him back with each thrust. The room filled with Astarion’s little whines and groans, the sound of skin slapping against skin- Sekh’s pants breaths. He could feel sweat rolling down his already slick spine.

He leaned over Astarion then, gritted his teeth as a hand grasped the vampire’s shoulder, dragged him back almost violently for his next thrust. Astarion gave a startled cry, and Sekh could tell his legs were shaking already.

“Are you close already?” he taunted, the words teasing but laced with affection. “Do you want to come around my cock like a good boy?”

Astarion attempted words, but whatever they were meant to be, they came out as nothing but slurred sounds and breathy keens. Sekh smirked, as he felt sweat drip from his jaw, his chin, dotting along Astarion’s scars.

“It’s okay,” he said, soothing now, “I want you to come. Come on, Astarion. You,” he punctuated each word with a hard thrust, knowing by the way the vampire jerked, by the visible shivers, that he was indeed so close. “Can. Come.”

Astarion shouted Sekh’s name, his arms giving out as he collapsed down to the bed, face buried in his arms, shaking with a near sob. Sekh growled, fucked Astarion through the orgasm, until the vampire was whimpering, over sensitivity driving him mad.

Without a word, Sekh pulled out, gave Astarion’s ass a gentle pat. “On your back.”

He wasn’t done.

Astarion rolled over on command, a flush along his pale cheeks, creeping up his ears. His eyes were wet, lashes sticking together- a beautiful, glorious, fucked out mess.

Sekh grasped Astarion’s thighs roughly, dragged him closer to the edge of the bed so he could slide back into him. The vampire arched his back, eyes going wide- and Sekh watched his soft cock give a twitch. He knew he wouldn’t have been hard for his second orgasm-

But the drow was sure he could have him making an utter mess of himself for the third.

He thrust deep but slow this time, watching Astarion’s hands scramble along the bed, searching for purchase. Every few thrusts his cock would twitch, precum leaking all over his belly now. “Can you get hard for me again?” Sekh asked, hands rubbing soothingly along Astarion’s thighs. “Can your cock do that for me? Can you do that for me?”

Astarion arched, gave nothing but wordless gasps. 

Sekh hummed, pausing to lean over the vampire, press a kiss to his collarbone. “Astarion,” he murmured, “Starshine.” The vampire’s eyelids fluttered, and Sekh felt his hands, grasping at his shoulders, rubbing along his biceps. “Be a good boy and touch yourself for me.”

Astarion swallowed thickly, but gave a weak nod. Sekh straightened back up, watched as the vampire grasped his cock with one hand, teasing along his head, fingers rubbing precum into his flushed skin. Sekh resumed his deep, slow thrusts, was pleased to see Astarion slowly hardening in his own hand.

He knew the vampire’s body so well now. He knew his limits and how to bring him right to them.

“That’s it,” Sekh whispered, as Astarion finally curled his hand around himself. “So good, beloved. Does it feel good?” He thrust in deep at the question, and Astarion tried to shove his hips down to meet the movement.

“Yes,” he managed, “gods, Sekh.” At the sheer sound of his name Sekh welt a warm shiver run down his spine. His cunt clenched around nothing, his body so fucking close to orgasm from just tearing Astarion apart. He was beginning to feel rabid with the need.

He grasped one of Astarion’s legs, lifted it so his ankle rested against his shoulder- wrapped an arm around the vampire’s limb as the angle allowed him in even deeper. Astarion tossed his head back, wordless moans tumbling from his mouth. Sekh turned, pressed a kiss to Astarion’s ankle, felt the gold anklet there pressing into his cheek.

A little memento from a delicious night amongst hell itself, stolen from the body of a dead drow while masquerading amongst the Duskryn House. The fact that Astarion still wore it made Sekh’s stomach cramp in a fluttering need, but also made his heart swell. Every little gift he ever gave the vampire always seemed to be treasured.

Sekh’s hips were aching as he continued to thrust, harder now, unsure he could drag this out much longer. His muscles were tired from his workout, but he ignored the fatigue, watching Astarion’s chest rise and fall rapidly with his unneeded, panted breaths.

He wished he could get his teeth on his rosy nipples, wished he could suck and bite until Astarion was damn near crying. The vampire did so love that.

Astarion was stroking himself with almost no rhythm, just a frantic need for contact, as he squirmed about. He’d try to meet Sekh’s thrusts, then delve into his own hand, giving a frustrated groan when he couldn’t do both at the same time.

Sekh bit at his lip, caught Astarion’s eyes, this desperate plea in them for relief from the thrumming pressure in his spine, his pelvis. Sekh gripped his leg tighter, thrust as hard as he could, as deep as he could, over and over again, as Astarion screamed his name, his throat having to be raw from it. The vampire arched his back completely off the bed when his orgasm hit, his cock pulsing as cum splattered his belly, along his ribs, even more simply dribbling along his fingers, mixing with the sweat that had begun to glisten on his alabaster skin.

The moment Astarion went lax, Sekh pulled out of him, hands shaking as he desperately tried to unbuckle his harness. He cursed when he nearly couldn’t do it, before he finally got the last buckle undone. He left it discarded on the bed as he climbed up, hadn’t even given Astarion a moment to catch his unneeded breath, before he was pressing his knees into the bed just over his shoulders, getting a fistful of his glorious hair and pulling his face up, into his drenched cunt.

Astarion whimpered, his hands reaching up, grasping at Sekh’s hips. The vampire was trembling. Without even the need for a command, Astarion thrust his tongue into Sekh, teased his sopping hole, groaning as Sekh tried to grind down against his mouth.

Sekh tossed his head back, breathed Astarion’s name, as he tried to tug at his hair, wanted his mouth on his clit, just wanted to come. But the vampire was stubborn, was intent on getting a real taste of him, his tongue thrusting into him as best as he could. His nails dug crescents into Sekh’s supple ass, dimpling the dusky skin, as Astarion thrust his hips up into nothing, giving a feral little growl as he smeared Sekh’s need all over his chin.

Sekh pulled at Astarion’s hair, to the point that the vampire’s scalp had to burn. He knew the man liked it. He heard the bed creak as Astarion dug a heel into it, before his mouth finally moved to where Sekh wanted it most, closing around his heavy clit and sucking gently, tongue flicking along it over and over and over and over-

Sekh shouted, his orgasm tearing down his spine like lightning. He pressed harder to Astarion’s tongue, clenched his teeth and let his breath hiss through them as he rode it out, grinding into the vampire’s tongue until he swore he was seeing white. Only then did he push Astarion away, force the vampire flat to the bed as he knelt there, panting, body shaking.

Carefully Sekh swung his leg over Astarion, sat on the bed next to him, as the vampire stared up at the ceiling, mouth open, glistening with Sekh’s cum, looking as if he had possibly just seen the face of a god.

“Hells,” the vampire managed, his voice sounding a bit raw. “That…” he licked his lips, and Sekh watched his eyelids flutter over the taste, “that was one hell of a way to wake up.”

The drow laughed at that, as Astarion turned his head, smiled at him- fangs on full display. Sekh reached a hand out, grasped one of Astarion’s, gave it an affectionate squeeze.

Before he could do more the elf was moving, sitting up and shoving at Sekh, pinning him down onto his back. He slid over him, settled between his legs, pressed flushed to his body, seeking his mouth out for a feverish kiss. Sekh arched into him, slick skin on slick skin, the feeling of his sweat mingling with Astarion’s cum. He nipped at the vampire’s tongue, before getting his lip between his teeth, causing Astarion to shudder unabashedly.

“Well, now we’re quite a mess,” Sekh breathed, against his mouth.

Astarion dipped his head down, kissed at Sekh’s pulse. He let his fangs prick gently, before he sucked at his skin, had Sekh squirming as he felt the pressure pulling blood to the surface. It would bruise. “A shame,” Astarion whispered, when he pulled back enough to examine the now darkly flushed patch of skin- smirking over his work. Sekh hoped Astarion would bite him there, later. Sink his fangs into bruised and overly sensitive skin. It would hurt so good. “I’d say we could just spend time cleaning up together- but I don’t think I want my scent washed off you.”

Sekh huffed an exasperated laugh. “Little beast,” he mused. “I’ll carry you to the bath if I need to.”

Astarion’s eyes flickered with a fiery light over that. Sekh grinned then, flipping them over, rolling Astarion to his back. Sekh nearly launched himself off the bed, turning and grasping the vampire, hauling him up over his shoulder.

His muscles screamed with the exertion, but he was sure he could handle Astarion’s weight, at least down the hall. Probably. And if not, they’d just collapse on the floor together and laugh over it.

They’d get cleaned up eventually.

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

Reprieve

One for @crimson-and-lavender! Disabled!Tav x Gale, fluffy and sweet. Hurt/comfort because chronic pain.

Taglist:

@alpydk @boufsy @owlseeyoulaterpal @lanafofana

@auroraesmeraldarose @aryancunin @miradelletarot @marlowethebard @silent-words

@netherese0rb @sorceresssundries @mumms-the-word

Tav woke slowly. She opened her eyes to pale grey sky, the campfire burned mostly to embers, the odd lick of flame keeping the cookpot burbling. Groaning softly in pain, she ran a quick mental scan: the shoulder she’d slept on was stiff and sore, a deep ache radiating into her back, down her thighs and calves. The crooks of her elbows were tender, and as she breathed a little deeper, stings of pain jolted through her ribs. Reaching for her walking cane, she hauled herself to her feet, exhaling hard.

‘Morning Tav,’ said Gale. He walked into camp with a wicker basket brimming with herbs and mushrooms, even a skinned and gutted rabbit hanging from his belt. His hands were stained with blood. ‘Would you take the basket for me? I don’t want to get blood on the herbs.’

‘Did you kill that yourself?’ she asked, nodding to the rabbit.

‘Is that a note of admiration I detect?’ he smiled. ‘Certainly. I gave it a quick death, I assure you. Frankly I find the process rather thrilling.’

Tav hobbled over, took the basket with one hand and set it down on a flat rock by the fire. Rolling her neck she hissed at the tenderness in her muscles.

Gale walked to the lakeshore and scrubbed his hands clean, returning to find Tav chopping mushrooms and dropping them into the pot. ‘I’ll do that,’ he said. ‘Sit.’

‘Oh… okay,’ she said, perching on a rock. ‘I just thought it would be helpful.’

‘It is,’ he assured her. ‘But let me help with your pain a little.’

I didn’t think you even noticed, she thought. ‘Honestly, I’m fine-’

‘Enough of that,’ he said sharply. ‘You’re not fine and you’re obviously experiencing high pain levels today. Let me help.’

She nodded. He stepped up behind her and gently pulled her shirt off her shoulders so he could press his fingers into the muscle. Slowly and carefully, he kneaded with practiced hands. They were cold from the water, their soothing chill taking the bite out of the pain. ‘That feels so nice,’ Tav admitted.

‘I know it won’t fix anything,’ he murmured. ‘But if it will afford temporary reprieve, I would do this for you every day if I could. I hate seeing you in pain. I hate seeing you just endure it even more. You shouldn’t have to.’

‘I hurt everywhere all the time,’ she said bluntly. ‘There’s not much you can do.’

He pressed his thumbs to her neck, drawing them downwards firmly. ‘You need rest.’

‘No, I’m fine-’

Gale stepped in front of her, eyebrow raised. ‘That wasn’t a suggestion, Tav. Stay with me in camp today. Even if you don’t want to be cared for you can admit that we need you strong. I’ll talk to Halsin if you don’t, see how gentle the bear will be when he sees you’re not taking care of yourself. I’ll at least be a little more lenient on you.’

‘Fine,’ she said sullenly. He pointed to her bedroll and she settled back into the furs, watching him prepare carrots for the stew.

‘Mornin’ you two,’ said Karlach, emerging from her tent. ‘Late one Tav?’

‘Must’ve been,’ drawled Astarion with a smile. ‘It’s not like you to still be in bed at this hour.’

‘You will have to be ready soon,’ said Lae’zel. ‘I am itching to slaughter goblins.’

‘She’s staying here,’ said Gale. ‘To rest.’

‘Mhm,’ said Astarion, unconvinced. ‘Rest isn’t really something she does.’  He put the back of his hand to her forehead. ‘Are you feeling alright, darling?’

‘Oh, get off. I’m fine.’

‘A bad pain day is not fine,’ said Gale pointedly. ‘You have got to let us take care of you for once.’

‘Agreed.’

‘Hear hear.’

Tav looked from Lae’zel to Karlach in annoyance. ‘Thanks.’

‘We need to catch up with Wyll and Shadowheart,’ said Astarion. ‘And the bear. Gods know where they’ve been all night…’ He swept out of camp, trailed by the others.

‘I feel like a naughty child being kept inside at playtime.’

‘Oh, you wound me, Tav. Surely my company isn’t that bad?’

‘No. But killing goblins is better. You’d have more flavour in the stew if you roasted the onions and meat, by the way.’

Gale gave her a look and added wood to the fire, using mage hand to roast the onions on the open flame before chopping and adding them. The seared rabbit he threw in whole to collapse slowly into the broth. ‘You know your cooking techniques, I see.’

‘Mhm. Used to work in a tavern kitchen. Add an apple. A green one, not a red one. And wild garlic.’

Gale did as bid and then scrubbed his hands again, settling onto his own bedroll with a book. ‘C’mere,’ he said. Tav shifted closer and he reached out a hand tentatively to touch her hair.

‘Oh. Alright.’ What harm? It’s not like he’s interested in me or anything. Why would he be? She leaned into his touch, feeling like a mistrustful cat, and he began to read aloud. “’The differences between natural spellcasters and wizards is a matter of study. A typical wizard may learn at such prestigious locales as Blackstaff Academy, taking up such disciplines as evocation, conjuration, illusion and enchantment. A sorcerer, by contrast, is born with their magic. It is often chaotic and poorly controlled when they are children, leading to humourous, even dangerous, effects…’”

Tav closed her eyes, feeling herself lulled by his voice, and when she opened her eyes again, the sun was overhead. Shifting, she realised she’d fallen asleep with her head on Gale’s thigh. ‘Oops,’ she croaked. ‘Sorry.’

‘Do you feel a little better?’ he asked gently, smiling down at her.

‘Relaxed,’ she said. ‘A bit safer.’ The pain would never go away, but as far as temporary reprieve went, this was the best she could get.

[anna-scribbles]

h-how do you ever finish any of your work? genuine question because you seem to be productive despite your agreste syndrome and I need to learn your ways. but also how do you ever finish any of your work

unclear. last night i stayed up and finished a report worth 25% of my grade at about 5am, arrived on time for my 9am lecture, and spent about half of it zoned out while thinking about seventeen year old emilie agreste. and i was one of the most active participants in the class discussion

[fluentisonus]

thinking about how we're told that stephen black was the only one with the keys to sir walter's pistols & how baffled everyone is at how lady pole could have gotten them to kill norrell with. thinking about it very much. also god I wish we got to see the whole set up to this from their end & more of their relationship

[quietwingsinthesky]

See, the thing about the Amy episode that makes Dean’s actions so reprehensible is not only the part where he doesn’t trust Sam and goes behind his back to kill Amy or even the hypocrisy of Dean ‘you can’t change what you are so you’re going to kill someone eventually’ Winchester sparing the kid right after stabbing his mom, it’s that Amy is very explicitly supposed to be a Sam parallel. There is no other way about it, from the they’re both freaks part of it to Dean dropping the line about ‘the other shoe’ right before he kills her, she is Sam, how Dean reacts to her is supposed to give us insight into how he feels about Sam. And Dean. kills her.

The not very subtle subtext being that Dean is ready to off Sam if he goes too far off the deep end? He’s aggressive and mistrustful of Sam at every turn in the episode, lays the feet of it all at Sam’s hallucinations maybe leading him astray, but end of the day, Sam’s crimes here are A) was tortured in Hell and B) is traumatized by that in a way that makes Dean’s life more difficult.

And it is hard to watch. To spend this whole episode with Sam being completely functional on his own, making a rational decision based on past experience and on all the information about Amy he has available, and for the episode to end with, ‘but yeah, if dean thinks sam goes too far, he’s probably gonna kill him. because sam can’t change or be fixed, so it’s for the good of everyone that he be put down.’