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a-kaash-me-outside · 8 months

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a bit dirty - ch6

in which you hook up with osamu in a club bathroom and that's just the beginning. prev | ch6 [masterlist]

// a really great idea ~ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ~ 7392 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni nsfw, squirting, sex in a bed!!, a lot of feelings and love!!!!, intimacy in more than just the bedroom fr, names names names pet names a million pet names, oral f!receiving, afab she/her pronouns

tori talks: oh good god guys we're finally here. thanks to everyone who is going to read this last chapter even though it literally took me over 6 months to write it. i hope you enjoy it and i'm glad it's over and that it happened. ily all. hope u enjoy. ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

you’re not sure you’d admit it to anyone, but walking into osamu’s apartment for the first time feels like coming home after a long day at work. you can see yourself here, more than you can in your own apartment or your childhood home. you feel just a little bit more like yourself, shoulders relaxing in a way that you didn’t think they needed to, breath a tiny fraction steadier. you’re not sure you’ve felt this comfortable in a really long time.

you don’t have to ask him where to put your shoes or where to hang your jacket, and he doesn’t take them from you either. he doesn’t put them away for you or tell you to hang them on the hangers in the empty closet down the hall.

when he unlocks his door and pushes inside, you mimic his motions, placing your shoes gingerly on the rack to the right of the closet between his white sneakers and black work shoes, hanging your jacket on the empty hooks above the spot where you've just retired your shoes.

stepping deeper into his apartment, he offers a small, “so, welcome,” he says, gesturing to the living room, one hand softly wrapped around yours as he tugs you along. stepping past the barrier of the front door, further into osamu’s space, you don’t feel like a guest here. you just feel like you belong.

“oh my god, it’s so clean in here,” you say, a few paces ahead of him now, but he refuses to break contact, to let go of your fingertips so he walks quickly along with you.

“well, yea, i’m not really ever home,” he explains, shrugging, as you walk around his living room eyes stopping at the neatly organized coffee table with cork coasters and a yellow hard-covered book titled this book will make you kinder, at the photos on his wall of him and his brother and him and his restaurant and him and suna, at the plants in the window sill and the dustless, dirtless ledge beneath them.

you shake your head, “no, that’s not true. you come home after work and you’re here before you leave for work, and i’m sure you’re super busy leaving in the morning and super tired when you come home at night, so it’s really impressive that it’s really clean.”

he lets out a half-laugh, a breathy light scoff in the place of a real response. you turn around, looking at him directly with a mischievous look on your face, “unless you cleaned your apartment just for me tonight?”

osamu’s quiet, a very telling silence, a wordless admittance. “oh my god!” you say, hands on your hip, and the slight hold that he has on your fingertips isn’t broken yet, his hand now pressed against your side, fingers curling around your hip as he pulls you a little closer.

“okay!” he admits, “so i am pretty tidy anyways, but there may have been a few dishes in the sink and the bed might not have been made and the couch cushions didn’t look that good before but-”

you shake your head, clicking your tongue, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you tease, “how presumptuous of you that i would come back here after our date?”

“i didn’t think we’d just fuck in the bathroom again, baby, what was i supposed to do, you literally said-” he says, trying to explain himself, unstoppable smile on his face as he pulls you even closer to him.

“do you think i’m that kinda girl? to just fuck you on the first date?” you ask, palm flat against his chest now, the other hand snaking up to lazily drape around his neck.

he shakes his head, wrapping his arms around you tight around your arms and shoulders, holding you in place as he laughs so deep that it sends tingles and shivers down your spine and skin. “you’re very funny, y’know that?” he asks, squishing you against his chest as he presses kiss after kiss into the top of your head.

“you made the bed? fixed the couch cushions? samu, i mean, really, what did you think was going to happen tonight?” you giggle, emphasizing every other word dramatically as you squirm in his tight grasp.

“i mean,” he says, leaning back to look at the warmth on your face, the fluster that lies with it, “you are here, aren’t you? i couldn’t have been that wrong if the cleaning paid off.”

you giggle harder now, leaning up and pressing a kiss into wherever you can reach in his strong hold. “i sure am,” you agree. he loosens his grip, hand falling down your arm to thread his fingers with yours again. he pecks a small kiss against your lips and then your cheek.

“you sure are,” he says, warmly.

you really could’ve stayed in the middle of his living room forever surrounded by couches and books on shelves and an impressive entertainment system. you didn’t need any of it either, didn’t need a place to sit or things to keep you busy, you’d be really happy just staring at osamu for the rest of time, at hearing him laugh, at feeling his pulse in your palm.

“can i getcha a drink?” he asks, pulling you out of this mellow, love-struck state in the name of hospitality.

“only if i can come with you,” you say, looking over his shoulder into the kitchen. your motivation is 70% wanting to stay with osamu and 30% wanting to see what his kitchen looks like: what kind of mugs he has, where he keeps his silverware, if his knives and pans are on display or tucked away in cabinets.

“clingy,” he teases, smile huge because there wasn’t any way that he was leaving you alone for even a second.

“fine! i'll stay in here,” you pout.

he doesn’t respond, only laughs and pulls you by the hand, “come on, pretty.”

you don’t protest anymore, following along happily into the kitchen, forcing yourself to sit on the barstool in front of the bar rather than snoop in his cupboards and drawers. he’s hesitant to let his touch fall from yours, to let go of the contact he has on your hand and your hip, but he does, presses a small kiss into the side of your head, and walks deeper into his kitchen.

from here you can see the kettle on the counter and the knives on a metallic strip above the black countertop. the pans are nowhere to be seen. they must be hidden away somewhere safe. you don’t say anything and neither does he as he pulls wine glasses and mugs and cups out of the cupboard and places them on the countertop in front of you.

and you still don’t feel like a guest.

it feels like osamu getting you a drink is because he loves you, like you could get up and get your own if you wanted to, like you already knew where the tea bags were and the spoons and the shelf that the sugar resided, like next time you would return the favor, let him sit down for a minute while you made the two of you tea or poured another glass of wine.

“what’s it gonna be?” he asks, gesturing to your choices on the bar in front of you.

“y’know you could’ve just asked me that before pulling out all the cups?” you tease, eyes moving from cup to mug to wine glass.

he shrugs, “not as visual.”

“what are you in the mood for?” you ask, reaching to pick up the mug, black ceramic with a gray stripe along the base. you turn it over in your hand, running your fingers along the matte texture. yeah, this feels like a mug osamu would own.

“anything, really,” he says, smiling before the rest of the flirt even comes out of his mouth, “as long as i’m drinking it with you on my couch, i will be very happy.”

you roll your eyes. it’s really unfair how predictable, yet how adorable, he is when it comes to things like that. “alright, how about wine now, tea later?” you ask.

he rests both of his hands on the edge of the counter for a moment, nodding as he does, removing the cups from the counter and pushing the mugs towards the tea kettle. “sounds like a plan, angel,” he says, disappearing behind the pantry door and coming back with a bottle of wine.

he doesn’t recork the wine or put the bottle back, leaves it exactly where he sets it on the counter in a rush to just drink wine on his couch with you. he carries your glass for you as he guides you back to the couch.

sitting on the plush, perfectly set cushions, tucking yourself into the corner against the arm rest, osamu pressed up against you, pulling your legs over the tops of his, his hand resting comfortably on your calf, you’re not sure you’ll ever really be ready to go back to your own cold, lonely apartment. when you close your eyes, you can see this moment next week and next month and three years from now.

your first glass of wine isn’t even finished before he interrupts your current conversation of favorite movies and media with a stupidly cute, nervous question, “so, can i ask you now?”

you want to be stunned or at least fake it, but you can only lean closer into him, setting your wine glass down on the coaster on the coffee table to wrap both of your arms around his bicep. “ask me what?” you tease.

he shakes his head, “y’know that night i thought you were so out of my league.”

you lean backwards, mouth agape, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, “no fucking way.”

“swear,” he laughs, leaning forward to set his glass down next to yours, “and i was out of my depth, had no idea what i was doing, just couldn’t stop staring at you-”

“oh, i know,” you say, recalling his smitten, lingering stare so perfectly that your face feels warm, “every time i would look over in your direction you would be looking at me like this.” you mimic your recollection as best as you can.

he puts his face in his hands. “that’s so embarrassing,” he says, and it’s muffled by his palms. you wrap your hands around his wrists, pulling them away from his face and kissing the backs of them.

“no, no, it was cute,” you say, but he still groans. you continue, “samu, i was into it, obviously.”

he explains further, “sumu was like shoving me over there so blatantly that i almost didn’t go over there.” he shakes his head at the memory, at the alternate universe where his stupid brother alone failed to start the best chain of events of his life. “and then omi leaned over to me and was like, ‘i'll distract your dumbass brother, go have a good night, you deserve it.’”

“remind me to thank him then,” you say, softly, shifting against the couch to lean against his shoulder instead of the armrest.

“will do,” he says, smile in his voice as he snakes his arm around your waist, hand resting on the side of your thigh. “i’ve thanked him plenty for both of us, but it might mean more coming from a new mouth.”

“you just say the most romantic things like it’s nothing,” you say.

“i don’t try,” he admits, “just hard not to be romantic when i’m with you.” he reaches across you with his other arm, pulls you further into his lap until both of your knees are on either side of his thighs and you’re facing him. “sorry,” he mumbles, “wanted to look at ya.”

“you’ve gotta be doing this on purpose,” you whisper.

his fingers scrape against the tops of your tights before rooting on your hips. he shakes his head. “it’s all you, really,” he whispers back. “these thoughts just come into my mind and i say them. love you so much, you make it easy.”

you’re very grateful for this position because it’s effortless to lean down and crash your lips into his, to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him deeper into the kiss, to feel his chest lift to kiss you harder. he tastes like expensive wine and a little bit like you still and you might cry, he’s just really perfect.

he places his hand on your shoulder, holds you in place as he leans back into the couch. the pout is already forming on your lip, so he runs his thumb across it gently. “will you be mine?” he asks, adding before you’ve even answered, “let me love you with labels.”

“oh my god, samu, you’re going to kill me, y’know that?” you say, hands cupping both of his cheeks before kissing him sweetly. “how do you expect me to keep up with this?”

“just say yes,” he says, quickly, “that’s enough for me.”

“of course,” you say, forehead resting gently against his, kiss placed on his nose and then the high of his cheekbone. you repeat it again just in case he missed it the first time, “of course.”

“i’m sorry that i didn’t make this happen sooner,” he says, soft sigh accompanying his remorseful tone.

“stop that,” you hush him.

“i mean it,” he says, sitting up into you a bit more, “if i would’ve figured my shit out sooner, we could’ve been doing this for months.”

“yeah, but you don’t know if everything would’ve turned out the same way,” you say, bringing your hands up into his hair, “if that would’ve been too soon or if we needed to go through all we went through to be as strong as we are now, there’s no way to know, really.”

he smiles at you, not opening his mouth to say anything, just soaking in the moment, humming at your astute thought. you continue, “i guess i just mean that, yea, getting more time with you would’ve been great, but we can’t do anything about that. so i’m just really glad to be with you now, here, drinking wine and sitting in your lap and kissing you.”

“and you say i’m the romantic,” he murmurs, kissing you once more.

“you are,” you argue.

/\ /\ /\

neither of you even finish your first glass of wine. even if you had, there was no way the two of you were untangling from each other and making your way into the kitchen for another, not in the middle of unimportance conversations about your thoughts on christmas lights or osamu’s thoughts on the type of pet he’d like to have one day.

but as the hours tick on, as the clock hands droop lower and lower, osamu knows that you need some sort of transition period to staying the night. “cup of tea before we go to bed?” he asks, head resting against the back cushion of the couch staring into your eyes with as much love as he can.

“are you being presumptuous again, samu?” you tease, but your eyelids are getting heavier and you can’t put a lot of effort into the taunting.

“i’m sorry, princess, do you want to stay the night?” he asks, gut-wrenchingly sincere.

“i would really love that, yea,” you say, flustered in the backfiring of your banter, “and tea sounds really nice too.”

he nods, once, short and happy, ready to move you off of his lap to go get the two of you a final drink before bed, but you get off of him first. “i’ll get it,” you offer, waiting with bated breath for him to fight you on it or to be weirded out by the forwardness of raiding his kitchen to feel the domesticity a little harder.

he doesn’t protest at all, lets the smitten, lingering stare last for a few moments before saying, “only if i can come with you.”

before you’ve made it to the kitchen with osamu in tow, he stops you, plants in place in front of the hallway to his bedroom, and nods towards it. “but first, can we get you into some comfier clothes?” he asks. “nighttime tea tastes better when you’re in comfy clothes,” he reasons. you can’t disagree.

you follow him down the hall to his room. you don’t get a good look at his plainly decorated room or the nicely made bed as you wait in the doorway. he returns quickly with a t-shirt of his. “you can change in the bathroom across the hall if you want,” he offers.

“you know you were inside of me in a fancy restaurant bathroom hours ago, right?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, pushing past him into his room and taking off all of your date clothes. osamu folds them neatly as you set them on the bed. when he picks up your torn tights, he can’t hold back his small laugh.

“oh yea, so funny,” you joke, “you can probably throw those away.”

“but they’re perfectly good for having sex in public bathrooms,” he jokes back.

you pull his shirt over your head, soft cotton taking the place of going out clothes and the difference is already lulling you to sleep. you’re determined to make osamu tea, but you can’t promise most of the cup won’t go cold on the counter.

it doesn’t take long for osamu to be on you, arms wrapped around your waist, hands roaming over your body, “you look so good right now.”

“shut up,” you say, pushing him away with the least amount of resolve anyone has ever had, “imagine how i feel looking at you wearing stuff like this.”

“you look better in it than i do,” he says, shaking his head.

“not possible,” you say back.

he leans down to kiss you once before reluctantly pulling away, walking back over to his dresser to change into comfier clothes as well. if you weren’t so stupidly tired, seeing osamu shirtless and in super casual sweatpants would’ve been the perfect catalyst for your first night together having sex in a bed.

tea. sleep. tea. sleep. tea. sleep. you remind yourself.

“c’mon, angel,” he coaxes, pulling you by your hand back down the hallway and into the kitchen. he leans against the countertop, doesn’t say another word or try to make you tea despite your earlier statement.

you start the kettle with the push of a button, pull the mugs from across the counter in front of you. you pluck two tea bags from the glass jar where they live. you have to open a few cupboards before finding the spoons, but the sugar is right where you think it will be.

“i think knowing that you take sugar in your tea is both the most surprising thing and also somehow completely aligns with who you are,” you reason, pouring the gently boiling water over the tea bags. by the time you finish your sentence, you’ve noticed the enamored look on his face, but you don’t have time to comment on it as he replies.

“that’s because you know me really well,” he says, nodding, loving smile still lingering. you put half of a spoonful of sugar into the cup, stir until it dissolves and then slid it against the countertop to him. he wraps his fingers around the warm cup, brings it to his lips, blows on it gently as if that’s going to do anything at all, and then takes the smallest sip. “perfect.”

you lean against the edge of the counter, holding the mug in your hands, waiting for the air to cool down the steaming beverage. “i think i’d be really okay with ending every single day of my life just like this,” you admit. if his eyes go wide or he recoils even the smallest percentage, you’ll blame it on the eventful day and the exhaustion that’s quickly overcoming you, but they don’t. his features soften, hand reaches across the counter to rub the back of your hand.

“me too,” he reciprocates. “you’ll have to stay over more often,” he doubles down.

“what?” you ask, taking a sip of your tea. you can feel the warmth hit your stomach. “have dinner ready for you when you come home and spend your nights off intertwined on the couch?” everything that you’re saying is getting closer and closer to practically asking to move in, but osamu doesn’t seem to mind.

“exactly that,” he murmurs, “you’ll have to see if you like my bed first, though, before you resign yourself to coming over every night.”

“every night?” you ask, cheeky smile the only form of teasing that you’re giving right now, “maybe we should go check it out then.” you take one more sip of your tea and then set the cup down on the counter. osamu doesn’t even do that, pulls you away from behind the counter and down the hall.

you climb into his bed, under his covers without asking or another mention. osamu joins you, climbing into the other side, and the two of you don’t waste a single second, curling up against each other, limbs lazily tangling, pressing up against one another as close as you possibly can.

“the first time we’re in a bed together and we’re not even having sex,” he says, softly, reaching over and turning off his bedside light. it takes a few moments for your eyes to get adjusted, to make out the shapes of his face in the dark.

“crazy, right?” you ask, smiling as you snuggling into his chest impossibly closer.

“i like this though,” he admits, traces his fingers up and down your arms, “just being in bed with you, falling asleep with you, means i get to wake up with you.”

you hum at his voice, soft and deep, and the darkness looks the same as it does with shut eyes, but you’re trying your best to not let the sleep take you that fast. “can you keep me awake?” you ask.

“you’re literally falling asleep as we speak,” he says, your eyelids fluttering shut as if to make a point. you shake your head, but you don’t say anything else. “why do you want me to keep you awake, babygirl?”

“cause i wanna be in this moment a little while longer,” you reason, breath taking over your voice as the darkness and warmth pull you into a comforting hug.

“we’ll have plenty of time for moments like this later,” he says, kissing the top of your head. “plenty of time, so go to sleep, angel.”

you’re not even embarrassed at how quickly you listen to him.

/\ /\ /\

if last night wasn’t enough to convince you that you were exactly where you needed to be for the rest of your life, waking up in osamu’s arms definitely was. they’re strong around you, wrapped tightly around your waist, nose nuzzled into the back of your neck, legs intertwined with yours.

you’re incredibly surprised that you’ve woken up first, but the second that you start to stir, osamu’s grip loosens, and his head peaks over your shoulder and he places a small kiss on your cheek. “mornin’,” he says, raspy as he talks off the sleep.

you turn in his arms, laying flat on your back so you can look at him directly. “good morning,” you say back, lifting your head to kiss him. “very good morning,” you say again.

“cute,” he murmurs against your lips, “stupidly cute.” you reach your arms up, draping them over his neck loosely to pull him down into you. “do you want breakfast or something?” he asks.

you shake your head, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “no,” you say, “well, maybe later? i think right now i just want, y’know, this.” you gesture with a small nod not really towards anything in particular, just to the situation.

he laughs, kissing the side of your face, “alright, this it is.”

you don’t say much else. nor does he. it’s all stolen kisses and roaming touches and silent exchanges. you don’t feel the need to talk, don’t have much to say, you’re communicating just fine without them.

every touch is getting needier, every kiss is getting longer, sloppier, more desperate, and the only thing that you’ve been able to think about for the last hour is all of the promises that have been made to you about after date things.

it doesn’t help that he’s on top of you now, tops of his thighs resting between your legs, hands on either side of your waist just looking at you like that. the first thing you say in over an hour is, “what, samu?”

he laughs, pushing his fingertips up your body, under the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and up until your entire stomach is exposed. “god, you’re so hot,” he says, grabbing onto your waist to pull you closer to him.

“samu,” you whine.

“what, doll? it’s true,” he says, pushing your shirt up even further now, tits on display so pretty that you can feel him begin to grow hard against your inner thigh. “so pretty,” he murmurs. he tugs your shirt off, tosses it to the side with no regard for the tidiness of his room anymore.

you’ve really never been this exposed before when you’ve had sex with osamu, always an article of clothes on, but now the only thing stopping you from being completely naked is the thin fabric of your panties and osamu’s fingers are already hooked in the waistband. you don’t protest as he drags them down your thighs, picks up your legs and rests them on his shoulder as he does.

he presses a kiss into the side of your leg, slowly drops them back around him. your stomach is in knots, can barely breathe with the way that he’s looking at you, eyes traveling down your body so slowly that you can see each point that they linger a second longer.

“fuck, you look good,” osamu says, leaning down to kiss your shoulders, your collarbones, your chest.

“shut up,” you murmur, fingers threading into his hair, scratching against the back of his head as he scrapes his teeth against your sensitive skin.

“no, i’m serious,” he says, leaning back, “you’re so fucking pretty, gorgeous actually.”

“ew, shut up,” you push him away jokingly, gently, “or i’m not going to let you fuck me unless we’re fully clothed ever again,” you joke.

he laughs against your neck, breath and vibrations tickling the wet skin. every single kiss feels personal, hand-crafted and perfectly thought of just for you. the placement is direct and purposeful and you can feel his love in every single one.

“god, i’m going to take my time with you,” he says, pulling away again. you can feel the blush blooming under your skin, warming up every inch of you, igniting fires in your stomach.

“first time that we have a lot of it,” you joke, coaxing him back up to your lips. “and first time that i don’t have to be situated on a sink or the floor.”

“so you’ll be perfectly comfortable,” he says, kisses trailing between your tits and down your stomach, “while i eat you all morning long.”

“samu,” you say, crook of your elbow rising up to your face to hide behind it. he reaches up, pulls it away from your face.

“don’t hide from me, doll, look so cute like that,” he says, laying between your thighs, pushing them open with familiar hands. you give in to the gentle pressure so easily that you swear you hear the faintest laugh coming from Osamu, but the light kisses peppering your thighs that follow gain your focus instantly.

it should feel agonizing, the way he takes his time dragging his lips across every part of the skin between your legs, kissing and biting lightly. but the longer he’s there the more laughter flutters through your chest, the more your cheeks flush, the more loved you feel. you bring your hands to his face as he rests his head against your knee cupping one under his jaw and using the other to push his hair back a little.

“make me feel so pretty, samu,” you mumble. he makes no attempt to answer, just holds your gaze with loving eyes as he brings himself to ghost near your already soaked pussy, the feeling his breath overwhelming any of your other senses.

“just want you to see yourself through my eyes, princess.” the end of his sentence comes with a long, slow swipe of his tongue against your hyper sensitive clit and it feels good to finally not worry about who can hear you.

you dig your head back into the pillow, hair already a mess after a perfectly restful night’s sleep. you can feel his eyes burning into you, even if you can’t see them, even if your focus is really anywhere but the agonizing feather-like touches between your legs.

it’s a shame, you think, but only for a moment, that his mouth is so busy that you can’t hear him call you pretty names or poke fun at you for whining so much. only for a moment.

if there’s one thing that osamu cannot be called it’s all-or-nothing. osamu doesn’t do all-or-nothing; he does slowly, consistently, comfortably, and then all. this is no exception. he runs his tongue between your puffy lips, smears your juices all over your sensitive pussy with the tip, and then he eats you- not like a man-starved, but like a man who he gets to indulge in his favorite dessert.

his fingertips are digging into the fat of your hips, palms pressing to keep you in place, to keep you from squirming, and it’s working. he lets you scratch your nails into his hair, down the back of his neck, resting on the tops of his shoulders. you don’t guide him, don’t buck your hips impatiently, you don’t need to. if he isn’t lapping exactly where you want him to, you know he will be soon, you know it’s deliberate, you know that he knows what’s best for you even if you have to wait for it.

you’re not sure you know how many times you come on his tongue, how many are attributed to just his tongue and how many are attributed to the noises that he’s making, the grunts that are coming from his throat, the mumbled praises that he’s whispering against your soaked folds, the squeaking of the mattress from the soft grinding that he’s doing against the blankets.

without a watch, you’d have claimed you were there for hours, all morning, just like he said. you’re not sure if he would’ve stopped either, if you hadn’t sat up on your forearm, somehow more out of breath than he was, and tugged on his hair. “samu, baby,” you whine.

you can’t help it, the even-more-breathless-breathlessness that hits you when he looks into your eyes, bottom of his face soaked with you, licks his lips, wipes the rest of it with his palm, and crawls slowly up to meet you. he kisses you hard, as hard as you’ll let him, and then he kisses you again, and then he kisses your cheek, and then your jaw, then your neck, mumbles against your skin, “what do you want now, bunny?” he’ll give you anything. “i’ll give you anything.” you know that he will.

the opportunities are endless. the world is your oyster. anything that you ask for, he will give you, and it will be wrapped with neat paper and a pretty bow with a handwritten note several miles long. you swallow, eyes searching his face for nothing in particular, just because he’s pretty and because he’s yours.

“i don’t think i have anything to ask for, because you’re already mine,” you whisper.

his face lights up, skin hot and flushed on the highs of his cheeks and traveling down his neck and chest. for a second it looks like he short-circuits, like you’ve broken him just by telling him the truth, and then, in a second, the world catches back up to him.

he shakes his head slowly and then you’re on top of him, sat with both legs on either sides of his, strong hands steadying you before you can even clock that you need to be steadied. “you’re really asking for it, huh?” he asks, and now you’re feeling warm.

“i- what are you talking about, samu,” you say, eyebrows furrowed. you can feel his hips- and yourself- lift off the bed as the fabric between the backs of your thighs and the tops of his is replaced with soft skin. you yelp softly as you’re lowered back down, hands on your inner thighs pushing you back just enough for his cock to rest between them.

you’re soaking wet, making a mess between your lips and on the insides of your legs and now all over his hard cock, slowly pushing through your pressed together thighs. he brings his hips off the bed, steady thrusts rocking the mattress ever so slightly, both his hands squeezing the outsides of your thighs. he clicks his tongue, “saying shit like that, angel, you know i’m not going to be able to help myself.”

“samu,” you repeat, breathless. “what ar-.”

he cuts you off, sliding his thumb from the tip of his cock to the base, his leaking head slipping between your messy lips until it’s teasing your hole. “sound so in love with me, baby, need to fucking feel you around me so fucking bad right now,” he breathes, sharp inhale punctuating his sentence as he pulls you by your hips until you’re fully seated on his cock.

you don’t know if the warmth is coming from the blush or touch of his skin or the desire that’s burning in your core, but it’s there, and before you can even fully register what he’s saying, he’s honest-to-god whimpering, spouting more lovey bullshit, “god, it’s like falling in love with you made you fit even more perfectly around me.” he lifts you slightly, fingers digging into your hips as he lets you slowly fall back down onto his cock.

he tilts his head into the pillow, but immediately picks it back up, locking eyes with you before letting his gaze fall down your body, like he can’t believe you really exist, like he can’t believe he let himself relax into a position where he couldn’t see you at all times, like he “can’t believe you’re fucking real,” he grunts, “and that you’re all fucking mine.”

“osamu, if you don’t knock it off,” you say. you’re only half-joking. you’re not sure that you could take him talking to you like this for much longer. you feel so full, every part of you feels so full. you slide your hands down his chest, palm against his rapidly beating heart acting as leverage as you start moving in time with him.

you close your eyes, partially to focus on the parts of you that are on fire right now, and partially so that you don’t have to keep looking at how much osamu is looking at you. he can’t keep his hands off of you, can’t keep his eyes off of you.

“can’t help it, pretty, not when i get to savor it like this,” he says, brings his chest up and wraps his arms around your back, holding you securely to him. he kisses the side of your face, whispers in your ear, “not when i finally get to fuck you in my bed and tell you that i love you and see you- all of you.”

“are you trying to make me cry or something?” you ask, placing both of your hands on either side of his face, forcing his attention on just your eyes and the hints of shyness strewn all over your face.

a slight smirk is followed by raised eyebrows and a tiny kiss to the temple. osamu flips you over, lying you gently on your back while you’re still fully encompassing him. “that can be arranged, puppy,” he says, kissing down your neck, nipping at your shoulders and chest. he slams his hips into you and you can’t help the pleasured, high-pitched moan that comes as a result. in fact, you can’t help the ones that come one after another after another as he keeps snapping his hips, insides of your thighs growing raw from the impact.

you’re babbling at this point, a symphony of half-finished words and tiny whimpers, and when a single tear breaks free of your blurred waterline, osamu can’t hold back. “fuck, holy fuck, babygirl, you sound so good, don’t stop, princess, keep making those cute fucking noises, fuck, sound so good.”

you shake your head no and hope that he understands what it means, that you won’t stop as long as he doesn’t. you’ll cry and scream and make cute little noises for him forever if he never pulls out of you.

you’ve always known that fucking in bathrooms has been disadvantageous, you just couldn’t pinpoint it, not when it always felt so good anyway. you never thought the space bothered you or the hard, cold various materials of sinks or the fact that people were often only a door away; you never thought any of that mattered until now, now when you can cry for him and feel the softness of the blankets beneath you and the plushness of the pillow behind your head.

“baby,” you cry, “i’m- you’re gonna- fuck, i love you so much. i’m-.” you throw your head back, you can’t finish your half-constructed sentence before osamu is fucking you faster, harder, wrapping an arm around your lower back and lifting you up the slightest bit to angle you perfectly. your hand moves on instinct, reaches down between your legs and circles your throbbing clit for only a second before you’re squirting all over him, a release of pressure drenching him as you gasp for air, drawing in enough breath to cry out his name.

you place your hand on his lower abs, eyes closing softly to center yourself. you could’ve passed out right here, slept for a million years, and you’re not sure you would’ve completely recovered. your body is shaking, throat is sore, and when you open your eyes, osamu is looking at you with such adoration and awe that you’re certain you’ve missed something.

“the first time we’re not in a fucking bathroom and you fucking make me squirt,” you mumble, shaking your head, “what are we going to do with you?” you ask, removing your hand from his stomach, silently letting him know you’ve recovered enough for him to keep going.

“i don’t care,” he says, kissing your jaw, “i don’t care what you do with me for the rest of my life, that was the most amazing thing i’ve ever seen.”

“you made a mess,” you tease.

“i made a mess?” he asks.

you nod.

he breathes a laugh before accepting responsibility, “i made a mess,” he confirms.

“so you’ve gotta do one thing for me,” you say, circling your hips, matching his lazy thrusts as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“anything,” he says. and you know that he means it.

you use your loose grip around his neck to coax him closer to you, your lips now pressed against his ear. “need you to make a mess inside of me, samu, please,” you say, low enough to send shivers down his spine from the tone alone. his hips stutter. he wants to regain composure, to not give in to blowing his load deep inside of you just from you saying his name and asking him nicely, he really wants to savor it and last a little bit longer.

but you’re so wet. you’re drenched, but you’re still so tight and sucking him in so nicely, perfectly sculpted for him, gummy walls still clenching and fluttering from your orgasm, and you kiss the skin right below his ear and you say, “please, i’ve been waiting for it ever since i fucking met you, please, don’t make me wait any longer.”

and he can’t.

he wouldn’t.

he doesn’t.

he snaps his hips forwards, pressing himself flush against the insides of your thighs and releases deep inside of you. you can feel his cock pulse with each stream, feel yourself getting fuller and fuller and fuller with each throb and accompanying grunt. you can’t get enough. you don’t want it to ever stop, but it does. he keeps himself deep inside of you for a moment, not wanting to lose the feeling just as much as you don’t.

when he starts to get soft, he pulls out, come dripping out of your hole and onto the blankets below just adding to the mess the two of you have created in the span of a few hours. he doesn’t exactly know where to go, what to do. the two of you could’ve passed out just like this, intertwined together and had the most incredible sleep of your entire life, if it weren’t for the huge mess beneath you.

“what now?” you mumble, not moving.

you feel osamu flop next to you. you’re not sure if he’s avoided the mess or if he’s embraced it. part of you wants to stand up and apologize and start throwing his bedspread in the washer, but that part of you isn’t winning, not today. if that part of osamu exists, it’s not winning either. he wraps his arms around your waist, rests his head on your chest, pulls you into him.

“are we just going to lay in this?” you say, laughing. it sounds ridiculous coming out of your mouth, but you’re sure it wouldn’t take much convincing for you to not have to move from this very spot. osamu doesn’t answer you, but you feel him unwrap from your body and then get off the bed. you go to sit up, but you don’t make it that far, opening your eyes as osamu pulls the blankets out from under you and throws them in a heap in the corner of his tidy room. he opens the closet door and comes back with a spare, small, but clean blanket.

he reassumes his position on the now-much-more-acceptable bed, throwing the blanket overtop of you and him and cuddling into your side. “is that better?” he asks, but he doesn’t really expect a response. your small smile and content hum is all he needs.

after only a few moments, recuperated by a clean blanket and strong arms, your body is ready to move onto the next thing, ready to get up and start making breakfast or start kissing him again or start getting ready for work despite how long you have until your shift. your skin is antsy, pulse is quickening. there are a trillion things in your head that you want to do with osamu, plenty of dull activities that seem like they’ll be much better with him by your side. you want to see them. you want to do them.

osamu shifts and pulls you into his chest, kisses the top of your head. “love you, angel,” he murmurs into your hair. “love you so much,” he says again. you feel calmer now, the most at ease you’ve ever been, because you know that there’ll be time for all of that, plenty of time, hours and hours of time to do all of the things that you want to do with osamu, more time than you know what to do with, you just know it.

for now, all you have to do is lay here, in bed, surrounded by warmth in more ways that you thought were possible, maybe let sleep take you again or stay awake in these passing moments, it doesn’t really matter. your exhale is steady, matches with his. you close your eyes and you can see this moment next week and next month and three years from now.

you look happy there.

you look really happy there.

taglist: @miyaluv127 @useless-bicth @mushasstuff @unstaaableaf @mimivinx @tsukiran @kurapika-1999 @hehatesmati @karmakarter @hunny-hotline @bella009888 @um-no-ok @footjib @mon-cherries @privthemis @agashki @renster05 @greeniegreengreen @tokyo-banana @fandomtrash5092 @coyloves @heathsuii @pasta-water @ran-rangasma @ayz-it-they @ellesalzar @dabibreeder @s4m1 @perry-gallifrey @barely-coherent @katsunarii @thisbicc @jaynawayna @levis-wheelchair @sugar-crumbs @miyaslvt @sheeshizzy @i0nlyr343mut @ajbutasimp @snazzyturtles @idontevenknowlolls @nicerthanu @angelgvtzzz @lovely-part-time-whore @lilac-ski3s @dovenu @heirxx @kur0obaby @tetsuswhore @alienvarmint @georgettesand @misfit-megumi @bijuu-naginata @captain-alien-america @ti-mame @buckys-hoeee @whos-curiosity-killed-the-cat @stargazing-girl @whoisgami @zany17 @privthemis @pennylanewrites @buckys-hoeee @avfox24 @reinertiddiejuice @poke-pia @its-simply-me19 @nahcho @sugamonster22 @destinyg237 @msbyomimi

♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

tori talks more: i do not know if i'll be around to write more to be honest with you. like i probably will at some point, but who knows. maybe when the new movie comes out. maybe ill do a jjk pivot bc i just finished it. feel free to scream in my inbox abt it or this or whatever. ily all and im so glad i could finally finish this. <3 :)

#osamu x reader #osamu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #osamu x reader smut #hq x reader smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haiykuu x reader smut #miya osamu x reader smut #osamu x reader fluff #osamu fluff #osamu fic #hq fic #toriwritesshit #abd update!

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hypnos333 · 8 months

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Healers love

Luke castellan x black goddess reader

Synopsis: You worked at the camp as a full goddess but also a youngling and you never could fall in love because of the curse of Apollo until you met a Hermes half breed

Your apollos granddaughter also Asclepius daughter, You took over your father deity, as healing, medicine and surgery. So your grandfather thought it would be good for you to work and watch the gods half breeds.

Your father, Asclepius was really uncertain of his only daughter babysitting the gods half breeds but after a lot of convincing from his father. He sent you away but not that you mind, your grandfather and dad was overbearing to you.

You were cluttered in the infirmity room all day, Chiron fixed up Cabin 305 for you because no one heard of you. Pacifically you being Asclepius child.

One day when you were healing kids who have minor injuries. That’s where a Hermes boy comes in with him limping and holding his shoulder in pain so you instantly rushed to him.

You checked him over before opening your healing purse with lots of Ambrosia.

Ambrosia is healing food something demigods consume but having to much has consequences but Mortals can never consume them.

It was risky to give this boy Ambrosia but he did look in pain so you risked it you shoved the little piece of bread in his mouth making his swallow while using your healing magic. He groans in pain as the Ambrosia reached his leg as you healed his shoulder.

You moved away to go your next patient. “T-Thank you pretty girl” The Hermes boy mumbled tiredly making you blush slightly.

“Your welcome Messenger” You sigh pulling a blanket up to him before tending to your other kids.

When he first saw you, he immediately noticed that you were gorgeous for a healer goddess maybe Aphrodite blessed you with her beauty. And the way you immediately rushed to him made him fold. He wanted you at first sight, screw the gods but not you definitely not you. You were different and is just for him.

Maybe even Aphrodite even gave her blessing into you two to fall in love.

When Luke woke up he was greeted to you listening to his heart with your stethoscope that you mostly keep around your neck in the infirmary room.

He blushed as his heartbeat went up making you glance at him and smile as you put your stethoscope back around your neck. “Oh i’m glad to see your up love” You cheerfully said writing down his condition.

“My name is ___ Killian” You said making his arch his eyebrows as he was going to say something you already beat him to it. “Yes I made the last name up” You sigh.

“What’s your name?” You asked making him remember he never told you his name.

“Uh Oh i’m Luke Castellan” he answered making you nod before writing it down on the clipboard before putting it down.

“Well Luke your all good to go, I gave you some medicine to heal faster and everything should be good, I will need you to be more careful unless you’ll be close to getting a broken shoulder or sprain leg” You said professional.

You looked at him for an Okay but all he did was stare at you in admiration and lovesick.

You’re no Aphrodite but you would know when people fall for you at this point. Everyday now he come 5 times a week and it was often.

He’ll come with scapes, scars, sicknesses or even almost sprains.

So you confront him about it.

“Luke you can’t keep hurting yourself it’s either your really clumsy or your here for something else and I see if capture the flag and your amazing so what’s up with you?” You asked him wrapping up his arm.

“You watch me play capture the flag?” He asked lighting up at you watching him win every single time.

“Stop changing the subject” You scolded making him chuckle nervously.

Over these past weeks you grown having feelings with the Hermes boys and loved his company but you also grown worried he’s hurting himself on purpose.

“This is probably the best way to tell you but I’ve been wanting to ask if you want to go on a lunch date with me?” He asked hopefully but felt a boost of energy and that where he realized you were still holding his arm but white tint came out of your hands and onto his arm making him feel more strengthen.

“___?” He asked out making you snap out of it.

You pulled him into a kiss luckily the infirmary was empty was it was just you and him.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” He asked pulling away slightly but instantly wanted to feel your lips again as his grabbed you waist pulling you closer.

“It’s definitely a yes” You breathed out as he looked at your chocolate brown eyes. He smiled before pulling you back into a kiss leading into a make out session.

He still hated gods but you…. You were definitely an exception he can never hate you. He was gonna keep you to himself. All he wants is you…..

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians

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chaoticbardlady99 · 8 months

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Maryë (Astarion x GN! AFAB Reader) MDNI 18 +

Synopsis: Astarion left to explore the world and himself following the death of the Netherbrain. You remain in Baldur’s Gate with your brother, Gale, resigning yourself to your fate as Astarion’s friend until you die. Until one day, you and Astarion begin to write letters back and forth. Except there is one letter in particular that you suspect isn’t from Astarion…

CW: minimal mentions of violence, smut, Oral (Female Receiving), PIV, Tav’s also just an oblivious idiot who apparently doesn’t think very hard about words (it’s me, I’m Tav the idiot and this is like my Fiancé and I’s friendship prior to ya know, dating lmfao)

Author note- I might also write this in AMAB! Format, but I need to do some… research first for accuracy. This is lightly edited and just some silly little thought I had. I wanted to write something not so detailed for once while I work on my drafts for Lethal Woman and She’s Not Acid Nor Alkaline. Also def stole a line from Tolkien and added to it at the end (this is me crediting).

You’ll either love this or hate this idk.

The title literally translates to Home in Elvish.

Photo belongs to idk who so please reach out if it’s yours!

As always- likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, I am just terrible at responding.

Tav,

As much as I enjoy our current form of communication- I was wondering if I could come to see you in person.

I have so much I need to say to you and I want to be able to do it in person- the proper way.

I hope to hear from you soon.

Yours,

Astarion

You sit and stare at the letter like you have been doing for the last week since you received it. Unlike your half-brother, Gale, you are not one for words. It was hard to respond to Astarion’s letters initially until Gale “doctored” your responses- often putting whatever silly accomplishment you have achieved lately or stories Gale found interesting from your recent solo adventures.

“Are you going to write the letter or are you hoping it’s going to write itself?” Gale teases.

You scowl at him and shake your head.

“I don’t know what to write back.”

“I could come up with a couple things!” Gale clears his throat, “‘ Oh Astarion- I’ve missed you terribly this whole time! I regret telling you that we should be friends until you figure things out! Despite my VERY WISE BROTHER’S ADVICE TO NOT DO THAT! I wait like a lovesick puppy at the mailbox every week hoping a letter may arrive!’”

You roll your eyes at him and throw one of his many decorative couch pillows at his head. He certainly has your mother’s flair for the dramatic. However, you can’t necessarily say he’s wrong- you have been nothing less than a smitten school girl waiting for letters non-stop.

Astarion had gone back to the Underdark after the last battle with the Netherbrain. He told you that he wanted to go and explore who he is- the world too.

You had been as enthusiastic as you could about the decision considering you had come up to him at the party with a letter in your hands asking if he would like to continue traveling with you after this- you had been too scared to say it outloud. A part of you hoped it may allow your romance to blossom without the impending threat of death at every corner. Well, if he still harbored any feelings for you at all.

You had merely smiled and told him how excited you are for him. It answered the silent question that had been there- was there still room in Astarion’s heart for you after you said you should just be friends and try again later?

The answer was ‘no’, despite Gale’s perplexed face and lecture when he found out you gave the spawn a send off with a ‘long’ hug (he made you describe it in detail). You refuse to give yourself any hope- you will remain a dutiful friend since you resigned yourself to this fate.

Then you received a Sending spell with him requesting your address and the letters began. You squealed like a schoolgirl when the first one came in and ripped it open enthusiastically. You didn’t realize Gale was home, otherwise you wouldn’t have read it out in the open- Tara snitched on you!

You had only truly met Gale around a couple months prior to your mutual abduction. Your mother had asked you to assist a brother you never knew about in finding magical artifacts- you quickly learned it was because the man was becoming a damn recluse.

You had worried he’d slam the door in your face or turn you into a sheep for all of eternity- the minute you told him your name was Tav Dekarios, he pulled you in for a hug and told you he had been awaiting your arrival. Gale was thrilled to know that, like him, you were also a prodigy in your craft.

You are a virtuoso master with any instrument you touch and you cast spells that are almost far too good to be true. You became Oghma’s Chosen in your teen years after spending many years practicing under his mentorship (which is why you and Gale had a very weird, serious talk one night about how Mystra is kind of a fucking pedophile) and that allowed you to do incredible things.

Your notes could create shimmery images and tell stories- Arabella and the other tiefling children (even the very tough Mol) enjoy coming over and watching war tales be told with nothing but a drum and a rain stick. Sometimes you let them tell tales and you come up with a tune to match it- eventually finding a rhythm to put your mind into and create the picture.

It was one of the many things Astarion mentioned in his note- he stated that none of the other Bards even begin to hold a candle to your talent. You blushed deeply when you read the line.

He told you about everything he had seen, everyone he had met, what he’s found out about himself, and shockingly enough- how much he misses you. It had taken you by total surprise, but you responded saying you missed him too.

Pet names began to flow easily into inked lines and it felt like you had a tiny part of him back in your life- your friendship is still as strong as it was before he left.

The letters have quickly become the best part of your week and occasionally you’ll read them with Arabella. She ooos and awwws, then attempts to bully you into tell Astarion your feelings. You cast a mini rain shower over her head with a few poetic words for the suggestion. You don’t want to ruin what you have and there is always the possibility that he found someone else.

However, you weren’t unsure of this particular note because you didn’t want to see Astarion- you would love that. The issue is that it doesn’t look like his handwriting, it isn’t the paper he uses (he’s ridiculously particular), and it doesn’t flow. Gale thinks you are over analyzing it, but you are pretty sure that this isn’t Astarion’s writing. He also addresses you as “Darling” not Tav and signs the letter of with “‘Órenya ná órelya” (my heart is your heart) not “Yours”.

You’ve waited for another note to come in since, but nothing has. You are beginning to wonder if Gale is right and you really are just being paranoid.

“I already told you, Gale,” you say with annoyance, “something isn’t right about this note. I don’t think this is from him which is worrisome because that means I haven’t heard from him in two weeks WHICH could MEAN-“

“For the love of Gods- TAV,” Gale yells, effectively shutting you up, “my young, oblivious little sibling. Just say yes and let him come visit.”

*********************************************************

It had been two days since you sent the sending stone and there was no response. Not that it would have mattered anyway considering you are somewhere in the Underdark in a very beautifully lit cave. Neon, blue veins of magic run through the rock. The pathway is lit with glowing flowers and…. Benches?

It had all happened so fast. One moment you were walking home from the market and the next- Astarion had come up to you from an alleyway and said he needed help. He had told you that he would love to catch up, but there is an injured child around the corner and since he can only stay in the shadows, he needs you to help them. Before you knew it- someone hit you with a sleep spell and the last thing you remember seeing is stars as your head slammed into the pavement. Oh and a, “oooooffff my bad” before you blacked out.

You blink your eyes a few more times, trying to figure out what in the wretched hells is going on.

“Oh for the love of- I told you to talk to Oghma’s Chosen! Not kidnap her and give her a serious concussion!”

A hazy, short figure comes into your vision. Is that…. a Deep Gnome?

“You told us it was imperative for the wedding! We intercepted the real letter and wrote this one,” another Gnome says, “and it worked! They showed up and everything! We’ve been watching since you told us to talk to her two weeks ago! We were running out of time for talking and bargaining so we just-“

“Kidnapped them!” the man yells, “you kidnapped them!? You- you imbeciles! They are supposed to want to perform for the wedding- you had at least six more hours! AND I GAVE YOU TWO WEEKS!”

“But Walby-“

Walby.

You know Walby! He and Barcus have been dating for a while now and the two are over the moon smitten. You are very happy for Barcus- this man is everything Wulbern could never be.

“No! I have had enough of your silliness! Leave me at once!”

You hear the three Gnomes that supposedly ambushed you walk off in angry huffs. A flash of healing magic fills the air and your head is finally clear- your ears no longer ringing like a triangle.

“My apologies, Ms.Dekarios,” Walby, says, “I wanted them to give you an invitation to come to Barcus’ and I’s wedding this afternoon, but as you heard, they are not the brightest bunch.

“It’s a very last minute ceremony- my mother is ill and she wants to see her ‘baby’ get married before she goes. We wanted to wait another year to plan, but oh you know how it goes!”

Walby looks at you sheepishly as you blink a few more times and let his words sink in. You look at the man and try not to throw up from sitting upright. You must have been out for a while, but not in a “oh that was a wonderful beauty nap” kind of way. You are pretty sure you have a decent amount of blood caked to the side of your head and neck right now.

“Oh, well in that case,” you offer a good natured smile, “I’ll consider this the most unique wedding invitation I’ve ever received and one I may not even have the privilege of remembering.”

The man laughs heartily as you stand up and brush your clothing off. You’re glad you wore a nicer outfit today and decided to bring your violin along- Oghma must have wanted to make sure you were prepared.

“I also wanted to ask a favor,” he says meekly, “if I haven’t fallen out of your good graces before I even stepped foot in them- that is.”

You smile and just roll your eyes.

“Consider it water under the bridge. How can I be of service?”

“Well, you see- we had asked an acquaintance of ours to play music and uh. There’s no easy way to put this, but he was run over by a herd of Deep Rothé.”

“Hmm,” you say with a snort, “tough crowd- Deep Rothés.”

Ultimately, you agreed to perform for the ceremony and the little dinner party afterwards. Your music decorated the air with golds and silvers. Barcus was thrilled to have you there and thanked you immensely for allowing his mother-in-law to “witness true magic” before she leaves this plane.

By the time you were finally leaving- you hear two very familiar voices scream your name and come barreling towards you.

*****************************************

Astarion and Gale are practically sprinting as they try to track your location through the streets of Baldur’s Gate. They had just found a large spot of your blood sticking to the cobblestone and leading to the sewer. Astarion feels sick when he notices the path leads back into the Crimson Palace. Thankfully it was through the sewer and straight to the tunnel of the Underdark.

He had sent you a letter a few days ago and he had confessed his feelings. Instead of waiting for you to respond like a sane person, Astarion got the hell out of the inn he was staying at and began the four day trek to Baldur’s Gate. The nice part about traveling alone and not needing to breath is that Astarion could run from place to place if he was in a hurry or was just fed up with traveling already.

Astarion quickly learned that it was boring to be alone and it’s far more fun to share adventures with you. He also learned that he might be a semi-decent person on his own because, in spite of being without your physical presence, he continues to fucking help people. Astarion is really over this whole moral compass thing (it only extends so far though, he’s still a proud Bastard at heart).

When he arrived at your home about an hour and a half ago, Gale had informed him that you had gone out to the Market and was confused when Astarion said his letter shouldn’t have arrived yet. It took longer than usual to write for… reasons.

Gale showed him the note you received and the two of them pieced together that someone had definitely set up a trap- just not a very good one. Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose when Gale told him that you definitely figured out the letter wasn’t from him, but Gale encouraged you to respond anyway.

A part of him is incredibly worried that some of the remaining Bhaal cultists have taken you since they are the only people he could think of that would be able to mimic his form. His stomach still turns when he thinks about the time they realized Orin had taken you. This is giving him the same queasy feeling.

So imagine his and Gale’s surprise when you are walking away from some random spot seemingly unscathed. Except Astarion won’t believe that until he has inspected you for injuries himself.

You look positively shell-shocked to see him and even more surprised when he’s taking your face gently in his hands and begins to check for injuries.

“Are you alright, Darling?” He says in a far more panicked voice than he means to, “we found blood- I thought the worst and your idiot brother! Of course that letter wasn’t from me! I have class, my Dear! I would never use that paper and WHY IN THE HELLS WOULD YOU FOLLOW ME OF ALL PEOPLE!?”

He knows his ‘rage’ doesn’t sound like rage- it sounds like a man who thought his only love had been on the brink of death only moments ago. Astarion is trying to keep a serious face, but the adoration and love in your eyes when you look at him is making him want to dissolve. He’s thrilled to see that after a whole year of not being together that your feelings haven’t waivered. Neither have his, obviously, but that’s why he’s here.

“I will say, Tav,” Gale says with exasperation, “you even gave Tara a fright- you should be expecting a very long lecture when we get home.”

“Oh I’m sure I will,” you say with a beaming smile, your eyes never leaving Astarion’s, “but I do have quite the story if you would like to hear it?”

Astarion’s grin stretches across his entire face.

“I think a good story, better company, and some wine would make for a fine evening, my Dear.”

“Gross!” Gale says, “but I’ll tag along for some wine.”

Oh dammit.

****************************

If Astarion wasn’t so busy feasting upon you- then he probably would have already hunted down those stupid Gnomes that gave him a fright and found a windmill to fling them from. Gale had left only 15 minutes ago, but Astarion had made quick work in getting you up to his room and having his way with you.

The minute Gale left, the conversation became flirty and teasing- all the want that has been pooling in his body is finally getting the release it needs. You, like always, are a sight to behold.

Your back arches when his tongue drags along your clit and Astarion pushes your hips down into the mattress as your arousal paints his lips. Your moans and desperate cries of pleasure are so delicious and his cock is painfully hard, straining against his leather pants.. He is fighting between taking his time and being selfish- chasing his own pleasure inside of you.

The moment you clench around his fingers is the same moment he unlaces his own pants and begins to remove them. You keen and whine underneath him- Astarion’s name sounds the best coming from you in this state.

Astarion should be a gentleman, hypothetically, and maybe give you a half a second to be a little less dazed from your orgasm. Except Astarion isn’t a gentleman and he isn’t patient- at all.

Astarion lifts your hips up to his until the head of his cock is aligned with your entrance and he thrusts himself inside of you. You immediately wrap your legs around his hips with a yelp of pleasure and your eyes flutter wildly as you take his whole length. Astarion smiles down at you as he slowly rocks in and out of you.

Your fingers find their way to his hair and you pull Astarion’s face down to yours- stunning him with a mind numbing kiss. He snaps his hips at the sensation and the moan you let out causes whatever resolve he had to break. Astarion releases the hold you have on his lips and kisses along your jaw up to your ear.

“Did you like that, my Love?”

You hum in approval and try to pull his mouth back to yours. He interrupts you by thrusting into you two more times with more power than the first one.

“Asta-,,” you attempt to say his name between thrusts, “Astarion please.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Pet,” he teases, “I don’t even know if I know what you like anymore- maybe you don’t even like thi-“

Your legs tighten around his hips as he goes to pull completely out of you. Astarion quirks his eyebrow at you with a smirk as you look at him with desperation.

“I more than liked it- I loved it,” you whisper with your cheeks burning from your shyness.

Oh and how Astarion loves your shyness. His hands fist the sheets as he starts his agonizingly slow rhythm inside of you again- whimpers falling from deep within your chest.

“See, Darling,” Astarion says as his face falls into the crook of your neck, “that wasn’t so difficult, now was it?”

He doesn’t even give you a chance to respond before Astarion’s hips begin to pick up speed and his mouth covers yours. As much as he loves to hear you moan- he doesn’t care to share that experience with any of the patrons that had been obviously checking you out while you were catching up.

Astarion groans against your lips as he continues to fuck you relentlessly- his fangs nip at your lower lip and lap at the tiny droplets of blood that seep from the punctures.

You are a mess underneath him and you feel incredible in every way possible. Astarion never wanted this to stop in the first place- back when he had told you his feelings and you said it would be best to be friends for the time being.

Perhaps that’s what causes him to slow down and kiss you deeply- making up for the lack of speed with more force. One of his hands trails along your chest and begins to tease your sensitive nipples- your walls clench around him hard when he begins to pinch and roll the right one and your orgasm coats him as he moves to play with the left.

You kiss him sloppily and he’s lazily thrusting into you- his own Little Death following yours within seconds. Astarion collapses on top of you as he begins to soften inside of you. The smell of you and him mixed together is intoxicating and your heartbeat is hammering from the pleasure- your eyes glassy and tired with bliss. He laughs breathily before placing a kiss on your swollen lips.

Astarion lifts you up ever so slightly so that he can pull the blanket down and over you, then he adjusts himself and you so that you are curled up with your ear pressed against his chest. He strokes your hair absentmindedly and you lightly draw shapes on his chest.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” you say sleepily, “I’ve missed you so much.”

I’ve missed you too, Darling,” Astarion says while pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’m happy to be home.”

“Oh I’m sure Baldur’s Gate is-“

“You are my home,” Astarion interrupts you, “I’ve come to realize that wherever you are is where I want to be.”

You look up at him with tears in your eyes and happiness in your heart.

“But what about exploring your new life and all of that jazz?”

“Darling, I wouldn’t have a life if it weren’t for you,” Astarion states, “you helped me kill Cazador and break the cycle of ongoing abuse. You gave me life so I could live it and I want to live it with you. I’m tired of pretending I’m okay with just being friends and holding back my feelings. I want to share my life with you.

“I know this may all seem very fast, but” Astarion grabs his pants off the ground and he feels his stomach turn as he pulls the box out of his pocket, “I know I love you- that’s probably the only thing I’ve ever been sure of in my entire 239 years of existence. I- I wanted to know if you would… marry me?”

Your lips are on his within seconds and the two of you become entangled in soft kisses until you have to pull back for air. You lean your forehead against his and meet his gaze.

“I love you so much, Astarion. Yes- yes I will marry you,” you say tearfully, “I want to share my life with you too.”

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kamisama1kiss · 4 months

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I know that I keep requesting, and I’m sorry but I have a head full of ideas which I have to get out somehow- 😭

The ninjas reaction to their Lover (A ninja) flirting with them at any given point? Like one day they start to flirt with them all day, during training, during battle even them doing the most mundane things-

But this is just like a prank from the readers side where they start to flirt all day and they wanna see their reaction. (The ninja can flirt back, obviously for someone who loves red that is a go-to 🤭)

Please don't apologise 😭🙏 I love getting asks even tho i can maybe be a tad bit slow at times!! 🤭🤭

~~~

Their reactions of the lover being a massive flirt as a prank {Ninjago Headcanons}

~Lloyd Garmadon~

Genuinely, in a more general setting, he'd stop dead in his tracks with a light blush on his face, having not expected to hear your flirty comments. Would eventually loosen up and give in with a shy smile with avoiding eye contact. When he tried to flirt back, he wasn't exactly good at flirting at all. At least he tried.

Let's say mid battle against a villain and hiding, planning. He'd ignore it at first, but his heart would speed up lightly, tumbling on his words.

~Kai Smith~

His head would be within a flash turned to look over at you, a smug grin on his lips right before he bit his lip. Laughing to himself slightly before walking over to flirt back with no hesitation. Even planting a few short kisses on your neck, face, and maybe hand.

Now, let's place it in more of a fighting scenario? Yeah. He would most likely flirt back as a response if we know him right, winking back at you when the opportunity gives him time. Feeling a little giddy to be flirted with rather than the flirter.

~Cole Brookstone~

Believe he tried to be serious, but would instantly crack with laughter. No matter how many times his lover was flirty, he just stood their with a big grin on his face. Simply giving in with a simple peck on the cheek.

Yet again, if this was in a training way, he'd stop for a second. The warmth grew on his face but could be denied within seconds, shaking it off to train again. It definitely got his pulse up a few notches.

~Zane Julian~

Didn't get much of the memo of flirting, more specifically when you already had been dating for a while. Either way, he gained a smile depending on how intense the flirting could be his software could heat up a little.

Let's say everyone stood at the ship and tried to find where the villain had gone, and you pulling up with your flirting of the day, he'd simply pat your shoulders and tell you that the time isn't now. His emotions we're easily controlled when the time was needed.

~Jay Walker~

Simply would melt. His heart and soul makes a hard-core lover boy out of him. Tilting his head while watching you do your best work, the smile slowly grows while his feelings double, if that even is possible.

Shaking his if it happened mid battle, he would recreat the flirting when and if the time was given. For the time being, it had to be silent from his side, he needed to focused now.

~Nya Smith~

Her blush was set ablaze almost instantly, never having received that kind of attention. She simply did shy away at times in the start and did not even answer half the time. But now? Simply scoff and try to one up your lines, it's not a fun little game.

You know the drill by now. The training meant a lot to her, which meant you'll most likely be ignored by her. No hard feelings, she feels the need to be tip top shape to be respected by others since she is a girl.

#headcanons #lego ninjago #ninjago #ninjago headcanons #jay walker x reader #cole brookstone x reader #ninjago lloyd garmadon #lloyd garmadon x reader #kai smith x reader #zane julien x reader #headcanons nya smith #nya smith x reader #headcanons zane julian #headcanons jay walker #headcanons cole brookstone

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crybyemissamericanpie · 7 months

Text

Pops would fucking hate you - Felix Catton x Masc!Reader

i had to rewrite this like 2 times,and i still dont like it but it is what it is

TW:Small fluff,Part-Nudity,Homophobia,Sexual theme meantions, cursing, smoking, meantion of alcohol,daddy issues(lol),overthinking

"My pops would fucking hate you"You humble out with a small smile,head layed on the cold wall,as you stare at the ceiling,feet slowly swinging in the air,sometimes hitting the bedframe, some old song playing in the background

"Oh really?Sounds a bit homophobic innit'?"Your boyfriend humbles back a small chuckle leaving his lips,as he tunes the tabs on his guitar which was in his lap

"that's probably the case"You sigh out,fidgeting with the half-smoked cig between your fingers

Your dad was never really the human rights guy,i mean he was a white middle aged cis straight man,he had no reason to be protesting and support as it doesn't affect him nor his family,or at least thats what he always said until,when you were 10 you and your guy best friend at the time were giggling about how would it feel like to be kissed,so you both find out with each other,it was just a small peck

And that would be just that but as your usual english walls,they were really fucking thin and your father in the other room could hear everything.he never told anyone or mention it to you,it was just the way he looked at you after you came in his room for a charger

The room falls silence for a moment,the guys voice on the record player starts again after instruments,not an awkward silence nor a comforting one.You put the cig between your lips and took a hit,feeling it go to your core,as you get goosebumps from the open window that none of you would bother closing,then you blew the smoke,out and watch it disappear into thin air

Felix stringing a few notes was the one who took you out of your own thoughts.”it doesnt matter,we fucking hate him either way”The boy snarks out,a small comforting smile on his face.This wasnt the first time you talked to Felix about your dad,you both went through the trauma dumping on the second date.You didnt know how to feel about your dad,i mean he was your father at the end of the day,and youve had mostly forgotten about him since you came to uni,but sometimes he would just appear in your mind.

“good point”You look at felix,his tender smile,make every girl and boy melt.It was definitely an experience dating the heartthrob of Oxford.He was new to long term relationships so of course sometimes you'd argue about some stupid girl flirting with him at the local pub and he didn't try to stop her or anything,maybe he was a bit right,maybe you could be a bit jealous,but he doesn't need to know that you kinda agree with him on that

“I think my parents wouldn't believe me if i told them that im dating you”said felix,stroking a few strings on his guitar,like he was about to sing a love song.”i mean like..not even me dating but like dating someone amazing like you”He says as he doesnt break his eye contact with the strings of the guitar,his smile could even be heard from his voice

“yeah sure”You chuckle a bit at his statement,not convinced at all.You take another blunt from the cig.”its true,they probably think that im having sex with girls right now”He says,as he sits up more,looking at you blowing the smoke out of the cig.”i mean..you were in the start of the term”You tease,with a small smirk,as you smear the cig on the glass cig dispenser,next to you on the small table

Felix scoffs,sassily”well that was at the start of the term,before i met you!”he says,both of his eyebrows perked up as he leaned a beat closer,then let himself fall back on the pillows which were leaned on the frame of the bed.

A smirk on your face as you see your boyfriend get a bit worked up”i cant argue with that”You choose to not tease him this time with it”I think my dad knows that im fucking a boy”You wonder,you knew that your dad.Felix hm’d in response,his attention on the guitar again

Silence fills between the two of you only the rain hitting the grass and the vinyls instruments filling up your ears,,as you look at the window,where the now very cold breeze was coming you see that it's raining,water coming on the edge of the window.felix's eyes follow your gaze and he puts the guitar next to you on the bed and gets up and closes the window,his shirt getting rain on it

You overthink a bit of what if he is now upset that you said that your fucking a boy,not actually dating one,Felix was sensitive despite his personality that he puts out,before you wanted to apologize he was taking his shirt off,his muscles beautiful,then he pulls his pants and boxer off in one go,grabbing a new pair of boxer which you guessed was his pajamas.its not like it was the first time you have seen him naked of course,but you cant help but admire everytime.

As Felix straightens up and you start”i'm sorry”You whisper out,hoping you wouldn't have to repeat it,felix looks puzzled”for what?”He asks his voice soft as he walks back to the bed putting the guitar next to his nightstand,sitting down next to you also laying his back against the cold wall

“for saying that i only have sex with you”You mumble out, staring at your socks,as you rest your chin against your knees,he was much more than that to you,much more that you couldn't even put it to words.you wanted to prove it and continue your words but when you would start Felix,puts his hand on your back,with a comforting smile”i know you didn't mean it that way”He says,his eyes glimmering at you,like you were a the last drop of water on planet earth and he have been thirsting for over 1 month

You can't help but smile at his words,making you feel better that you didn't offend him,he never liked when you over thinked.You straighten your legs,then hug him,burying your face in his bare chest,he wrapped his arms around your body,kissing the hair on your head,with a smile,you can feel his fingers drawing shapes on your clothed back.You look up at him,faces close that you could still feel the cheap beer of his lips

“i love you so much”He whispers,it was easy for him to say that,like it was the most simple words in the words,with no meaning behind them.”i want to have you for the rest of my life,have a family and move into a small farm house”He says,his brown eyes tickling,as he stares into yours,you can't help but chuckle as a big smile washes on your face”i know it's..like really early but i know,i feel it”Felix said.he had big plans,and you were one of them.

“i know…i hope too”You say,voice shooting as you give a small peck to his lips,then his lips falls onto yours for a longer kiss,and you don't hesitate to kiss back,lips pressed together as you were 2 pieces of a puzzle.

#felix catton x reader #felix catton x male!reader #felix catton x masc!reader #felix catton #felix catton x reader comfort #felix catton x reader fluff #saltburn #saltburn 2023 #saltburn fanfic #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x male!reader #jacob elordi x masc!reader #jaocb elordi please save me

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ashwhowrites · 2 years

Note

eddie who befriends the new girl, takes her around hawkins, shows her his band, takes her backstage, and even lets her stay over a few times. y/n who’s his gf is absolutely pissed. eddie is oblivious and won’t stop anytime soon. the new girl is now taking y/n’s spot, they’re practically dating now! so the only thing y/n knows is so part away :(( maybe she dates steve?!? idk idk happy ending, angsty, whatever u see fit!?!?

Absolutely and definitely not a happy ending with Eddie. Fuck him

If I was dating a guy and he had some girl sleeping over- he's so dead

⚠️it's going to hurt and there will be no part 2

Flashbacks

Eddie had a thing in his life where he let everything fall apart but tried to run away instead of watching it. He'd throw the match but run the seconds the flame got higher and higher. Leaving whoever was left in the fire to burn to the ground themselves. And him being in love wasn't any different.

He had a good thing, a great thing. He had a girl who loved him unconditionally, loved him in ways he didn't think anyone could. You would probably think he worked his hardest to make sure she wanted to stay, but he didn't. He made it impossible for her to stay. He watched her break into pieces and had the nerve to be upset when she didn't leave at least one shred of her to stay with him.

But at the end of the day, he started the fire.

She warned him over and over. That each time he brought Lily around, she was closer to leaving.

"Eddie seriously. I think it's great you want to help out the new girl but do you really need to go on a date all over town?"

"it's not a date, we are friends. And she's new. She doesn't know half the places around here"

"she likes you Eddie. Why else do you think she purposely asked for it to just be the two of you?"

"because you scare her! She doesn't feel welcomed by you and it's not in her head"

He slammed the door. That was one time he struck the match but didn't throw it into the gasoline yet.

She didn't leave then yet though, she shook it off and hung out with friends. Maybe she thought too far into it. Maybe Lily wasn't after Eddie.

"since when do you allow anyone into hellfire?"

"it's just a club. Anyone is welcomed" Eddie shrugged as he set up his campaign.

His girlfriend fuming next to him. Seconds away from either bursting into tears or flames. She didn't know.

"just a club? You made Dustin win three campaigns before he was allowed in. Lucas got kicked out for joining basketball. Gareth is suspended because he had a date on hellfire night. But Lily gets all the special treatment doesn't she?"

"oh come on babe, it's not like that. I treat you special, not her" he scoffed.

He was so in denial she was scared of where his head was even at.

"me? Special? That's funny because when I wanted to join, before you knew I liked you. You told me "there's no way a girl could handle my campaign. Try again never, sweetheart " she mocked his words. " You are letting her join because you know she likes you, don't you?"

Eddie refused to answer. Truly believing all of this was in his girlfriends head. He didn't like Lily nor cared for Lily. But he isn't going to waste his time trying to defend himself against her when she already named him guilty.

But maybe he should've fought more. Strike two on the match, but no flames yet.

He didn't notice just how close his girlfriend was to walking out on him. Not noticing the way her body was always feet away when Lily was around. Lily, who was always up against his side.

"a band? That's so cool"

"yeah it's badass. Here I'll show you backstage. Only welcomed to my favorite people"

Y/N laughed to herself as Eddie didn't even look back at her. Taking Lily by the hand and dragging her backstage.

The same backstage they've made out in thousands of times. The same one she confessed she was in love with him. The same place he told her the same thing.

Strike three on the match, flames were growing slowly

Two months of him ignoring his girlfriends words and warnings. Once again in denial he was doing anything wrong. He wouldn't care if she was helping out a new kid. He trusted her, but he felt like she didn't trust him.

He didn't realize he was another strike of the match away from it all blowing up on him.

"sleeping over? Eddie no. She's not sleeping at your house" Y/N demanded as she stood up from Eddie's bed.

"she's drunk and needs a place to stay" he argued, throwing on his jacket as he looked for his keys.

"then she can call her other friends. Or leave with the ones she showed up with. I know for a fact Chrissy is there. Chrissy doesn't drink. She can bring her home. Chrissy wouldn't say no. She's calling because she knows it's our date night Eddie. Think about it!"

"Y/N seriously? God! She's not out to break us up. It seems like you are! She called me because I'm sure she knows I wouldn't tell her parents. It's just a night"

"yeah a night. The night we are meant to be together! We don't even have any of those anymore Eddie. STOP PICKING HER!" She ended screaming at the end. She felt like she was talking to a wall. Even then the wall might listen to her.

"GET IT THROUGH YOUR HEAD. I'M NOT PICKING HER. THIS INSECURITY AND JEALOUSY YOU HAVE GOING ON FOR THE PAST FEW MONTHS IS GETTING OLD" he screamed back.

She shook her head. Of course it all gets blamed back on her emotions.

"insecure and jealous? Yeah I wonder why. My boyfriend is leaving our date to go pick up a drink girl who's been trying to fuck him since she met him. And asking to sleep in his house. I don't think any girlfriend would be fine with that!"

" a girlfriend that trusted her boyfriend would" he snapped back.

She really wanted to laugh. She wanted to laugh, scream, cry and slash his damn tires.

"trust? Okay here. You have two options: you stay here and we fix this relationship you keep ruining. Or you leave and pick her up, but I'm gone. And I'm fully fucking done. I trust you to make the right decision" she proposed. Standing with her arms crossed and eyes glaring into him.

"we'll talk about this when I get back" Eddie sighed. Slipping on his shoes as he walked towards his front door

"Eddie I'm serious. If you leave, I will not be here when you come back. We will be fucking over. "

She watched as he hesitated. Maybe her words were finally ringing his head. Maybe he started to see he was losing her. But he had one last chance to save it....he didn't.

But he shook his head, lit the final match and threw it on the gasoline soaked floor. Giving her one last look as the flames burned all around her.

He walked out the door. Driving away at a fast speed. Not knowing she was packing up everything of their relationship. Taking everything that was hers out of his room. Throwing their pictures all over the floor. A piece of paper taped to his now closed bedroom door

"all yours now lily"

If he got to walk out on her, then she got to walk out on him.

He just didn't know she did until he got home that night.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader

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hotluncheddie · 2 years

Text

stop being a goblin and let me kiss you

part 3

˚✧₊⁎ ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ⁎⁺˳✧༚

‘ok. ok! you just, you just gotta be cool munson. be casual. chill. just like, vibe, yeah? yeah. no more funny business.’ eddie holds his fists up to himself in the dinky bathroom mirror. a couple of jabs, a quick one two, that’ll clear his head.

clear his head enough to go out and deal with steve fucking harrington again and his stupid stupid face and neck and tongue and like pretty fucking ankle bones. fucker.

see eddies not blind, and he’s not that dumb, he knows he flirts with steve and he knows steve flirts back. he just. cant deal with it just yet. it’s like every time he’s around the guy he blacks out and resurfaces red faced and half hard. but the point at which his vision fades and all hell breaking loose seems to vary so completely that he can’t stop it happening.

their conversations will start normal, a jolly lark, a guffaw here, a story there but then bam! someone said or did something that shifted his functioning brain capacity from 60% on a good day to like -5% and that’s being generous.

he just can’t get his ratty little self to either 1) stop liking steve harrington in a gay, gay, homosexual way. or 2) accept that someone like steve harrington could possibly like aforementioned rat himself eddie munson and actually process his feeling into a reaction that’s more than; red, red, half a boner, sweaty palms, red.

so he took a second to hide in the bathroom. that’s fine, that’s kind even. self care, as robin likes to say when she paints her nails on top of steve’s head when he sits on the computer at work. he likes to make the chair super low because apparently it helps his posture and he need to keep an eye on his posture or else he’ll end up like his great uncle melvin, or something.

self care time is over however because robins knocking on the little bathroom door, hollering about needing to get home to practice for her english presentation tomorrow. so it’s time for eddie to put his big boy pants back on and get in steve’s car.

eddie full body shudders.

‘finish writing you sad boy poems on the stall walls in there? roses are red, violets are blue, i like big dumb jock boys but can’t seem to accept they like me too, even if my very cool very in the know friend robin tells me too. hm?’ robin slings an arm over his shoulder and steers him back to the table.

eddie sniffs, crossing his arms ‘that last bit doesn’t rhyme so, i will be ignoring all of it. F for u buckbey.’

‘not everything has to rhyme perfectly u know. it can still fit together just fine as it is.’ she tugs on one of his curls before slipping back into steve side, finishing off the last of his milkshake and hauling him out of the booth because she ‘has shit to do dingus.’

too smart for her own good that chick. eddie loves her. he’s also going to move away and never talk to her ever again, maybe steal her collection of berets too, become a hat guy, once he reinvents himself. yeah.

steve is putting a few bills on the table, slinging his jacket over his shoulder. ‘just fries tonight ed’s? that makes you kind of a cheap date don’t you think?’ tapping eddie under the chin before following robin to the door, smacking his palm on the frame above on the way out. because of course he does, the neanderthal. all broad shoulders and biceps and ass.

there a second where eddie thinks steve could smack him like that but then he feels his vision spotting. can a guy not catch a break around here? jesus!

the car ride is a blissful reprieve due to cyndi lauper coming on, which had steve and robin performing a duet. which then needed to be tweaked and discussed in detail ready for the next time that specific song came on the radio.

it was honestly nice to watch. eddie had walked to family video that day because his van keeps playing up after it’s stint hidden in the woods. poor girl just needs a day off once in a while so eddie walks and then listens to car duets from two very much none singers. but it nice. makes his heart all yucky and warm.

until robin is leaving. leaving him alone to be a big nerd with a future. leaving him alone to make a fool of himself again. his ego is big and he likes to keep it that way.

‘you coming up here then’ steve shifts slightly, looking as far as he can over his shoulder at eddie huddled behind the drivers seat. ‘no’ he squeaks because last time steve got all up in his face getting his tape box out of the glove compartment. rifling through it while it was on eddies lap. so close eddie could smell the apple from his shampoo and the cigarette they’d shared earlier.

self care.

‘ooh you want the full harington taxi service do you? i see, well then govna, where too is it?’ steve tips his invisible cap and has the most awful cockney accent eddies ever heard, and he did middle school theatre.

‘geeze, just take me home dude.’ eddie shoves through the gap between the seats, landing heavy in the passenger. crossing his arms and trying to hide his smile behind his hair.

‘there he is. out of the shadows.’ steve tucks some of his curls behind his ear. eddie sees the soft smile out of his peripheral. tries to swallow the cotton in his mouth. steve turn back to the road ‘let’s rock ‘n roll’ he revvs the engine, wiggling his eyebrows, before checking his blind spot and pulling away into a cushy 30mph.

eddie looks out the window and hides his grin in his palm.

˚✧₊⁎ ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ⁎⁺˳✧༚

part 1 (eddie) part 2 (steve) part 4 (steve) part 5 (eddie) part 6 (steve) part 7 (eddie)

tags! ( ty for asking to be tagged wow so lovely can’t believe it hehe :3c ) (sry if i missed anyone or u didn’t want to be tagged just let me know!)

@bidisastersworld @sadcanadianwinter @mightbeasleep @butterflysandpeppermint @gregre369 @fandomz-brainrot @satan-is-obsessed @resident-gay-bitch @grtwdsmwhr @forsexyscience

#steddie #steve x eddie #my silly silly boys #cocky steve #eddie and robin are besties it’s tru its tru #<3 #hotlunch #my fic #stop being a goblin and let me kiss you

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changingplumbob · 10 days

Text

Foster Household: Chapter 9, Part 2

CW: Mental Health Struggles - Guide to content warnings

Inside the clinic Carson waited and right on time Dr Hanks showed up.

Dr H: Hello Carson, you found the clinic all right?

Carson: Yeah, I didn’t realise they just converted a house

Dr H: Don’t want to ruin the landscape and many patients feel more comfortable visiting a place that doesn’t look too official. Ah, here he is

Out of one of the rooms came a sim who looked like they belonged on a beach more than in a clinic.

Carson: You sure he’s a good fit Dr Hanks?

Dr H: He is but I’ll let him introduce himself. I’ll see you again if we need to change your prescription okay? Look after yourself Carson

Carson: Thanks

Carson was led into one of the rooms and took a seat, feeling awkward already.

Chad: My name is Chad Harrison, you can call me Chad or C, either is good. My main focus is anxiety disorders

Carson: Disorders

Chad: Disorders are just how we classify them, it’s not a reflection on your character

Carson: I guess

Chad: I’ve coached many a kid through what you’re dealing with Carson, I can help

Carson: Can you make the intrusive thoughts stop

Chad: It’s not as simple a fix as that. It’s about retraining your brain so that when they come up you can deal with them in healthy ways

Carson: So I won’t have to always spend half my day cleaning

Chad: Not at all. It will take time though, your brain has been working one way for so long, it takes time to adjust your thinking but plenty of kids I’ve dealt with can reduce symptoms

Carson: That’d be a relief. Ever since I lost my asthma inhaler I’ve been compelled to clean everything

Chad: Did Dr Hanks explain what OCD is

Carson: Yeah kinda, well the symptoms. Like I’ll get bad thoughts like, I’m going to have an asthma attack and die or my parents will die and my brain thinks if I can just do something like keep my shoes lined up in the wardrobe I can prevent it

Chad: You got it. But talk therapy will be about helping you as a person as well as someone who has OCD

Carson: So we can discuss whatever

Chad: I generally like to start sessions with a bit of catch up talk to help relax you. What’s on your mind today

Carson: My mind? Well, a girl I guess

Chad: Is she your girlfriend

Carson: Well no, I just... I just think she’s really pretty and she’s... she’s been through some stuff but is still going you know

Chad: Are you wanting to tell her how you feel or are you happy admiring from afar

Carson: I don’t know how I feel. I mean I like her and would like to go on a date and hold hands and stuff but... I worry I’m not right

Chad: Because of the anxiety?

Carson: It’s not that, it’s not even the asthma which leaves me looking much rounder than I like. It’s...

Carson really hoped Chad would jump in with exactly what his thoughts were but nope. Guess it was up to him. Damn this was awkward, but it did seem easier to talk to someone that wasn’t his parents. And it would be cold day in hell before he discussed this topic with Reece.

Carson: It’s about woohoo

Chad: I see. Well you are almost 15, it’s very normal to be having those thoughts and acting on them solo or sometimes with a partner at that age

Carson: But see... I was talking to my best mate Onyx and... well I don’t have the same kind of woohoo thoughts they do

Chad: Everyone is an individual, it would strange if you had the exact same type as your friend. Can you tell me what bothers you about having different thoughts?

Carson: Well... Onyx, and my mates Darwin and William, when they... you know... they picture people. I don’t really picture anything, it’s just about like sensations and having an itch I need to scratch that feels good once it happens

Chad: Go on

Carson: And like I never look at anyone and think, oh it could be fun to have woohoo. Like even the girl I like, I’d love to kiss and cuddle and stuff but I don’t look at her and think, I want to woohoo her. What if my brain is just not mature, and will never mature

The counsellor was silent for a moment and Carson felt his anxiety raise. This was clearly a mistake. Chad would think he was a weirdo who didn't deserve help. He should leave.

Chad: Carson have you heard about the asexual spectrum

Carson: The what?

Chad: The asexual spectrum. Probably easier to start more basic, you know how gender is a spectrum?

Carson: Yeah, Onyx is genderfluid and their current pronouns are they/them

Chad: Attraction is also a spectrum

Carson: Yeah I know I’m bi. Mum hoped one of us kids would be pan like her but I feel like bi just fits me better

Chad: What isn’t often made clear to growing kids is that romantic attraction and woohoo attraction are different things, and they don’t have to match. Am I wrong to assume if you identify as bi you have wanted to date boys and girls

Carson: Yeah, especially pretty ones

Chad: Based on what you’ve been saying I think you may be biromantic but fall somewhere on the asexual spectrum, which is part of woohoo attraction

Carson: So I’m not just a wuss?

Chad: You’re not a wuss for not wanting to woohoo, there are plenty of reasons not to in any scenario. Anyone who forces you to woohoo or says you have to is in the wrong, you understand?

Carson: Yeah, I know about consent. But what is an asexual spectrum

Chad: Basically it’s for people who feel less woohoo attraction than the average person. There are some people who need an emotional connection before they’ll feel attracted to their partner in a woohoo way. The spectrum stretches from them all the way to people who never experience woohoo attraction. It doesn’t make you immature to not feel any woohoo attraction, there are many people who identify along the spectrum. As for wuss there are also variants for how touch averse a person is or isn't, and that comes from preference not cowardice

Carson: I’m just worried if I ask her on a date but I don’t want to woohoo I’m like... leading her on

Chad: You’re still young Carson, it’s possible the thought of woohoo hasn’t even crossed her mind. Don't feel like you need to grow up any faster than is comfortable. You said you like her right

Carson: Right

Chad: So there is nothing false in that. Don’t focus on what might happen in the far future, if you want to hold her hand now then you want to hold her hand now. Cross the other bridges when you come to them

Carson: I guess you’re right

Chad: Okay, you ready to start working on the OCD now

Carson: After that conversation it’s bound to be a breeze

Chad: *laughs* That’s the spirit

Previous ... Next

#sims 4 #the sims #simblr #my sims #ts4 #active simblr #R0910 #CarsonFoster

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vampirevatican · 8 months

Text

Nothing's new...

pairing - judd birch x fem!reader

genre/tags - angst, break-up, moving on, time lapse, reader is burn out gifted kid

summary - Judd was so caring yet drastically different from you. It wasn't like he didn't have life plans but it didn't align with yours, or outsiders would say. You put it off, did your best to ignore it. Though some nights you couldn't avoid it, so you reasoned that as long as you were together... in any form, way or sense of the word then you were happy. One thing, you forgot to factor in how he'd feel, the weight of what he meant and how he'd handle that. It'd be fine right? It had to be.

notes - 954 words. based on this idea. idk, i just think it's fun to analyze a character way past what's given on the screen. is it giving 'you were a wonderful experience.'/'you were... everything'? because i need it to. apologies to it being so fast paced and maybe half baked? i just rly wanted to finish this and my love for him went... poof

req. tags - @rosaprep

Driving back home something constantly nagged at you, Judd, or mainly your relationship with him. You've been together for a couple years, he's seen you through highschool and the first two years of college. He always kept you away from trouble but whenever things were safe he'd tell you all about his misdemeanors. He really wasn't a menace, but he was no saint either. Your boy wasn't the type to follow societal expectations and would rather bend those rules as much as possible instead of bending himself. He never understood why you did it, but understood that it just worked for you. So he cheered you on when you went off to college and he stayed back doing vocational school. By the time you were on your second year he already had a job. You were so proud and happy for him, but after a dinner date as celebration you thought about how your lives would ever intertwine.

You worked so hard making sure he always had a place somewhere in your life that at this point you couldn't loose him, and now you were wondering why that is. As you check your phone in your parents driveway, you check your phone.

emo boy 🖤: 'hey. nice you're back.'

you: 'nice to be back. did you want me over now or ltr.'

emo boy 🖤: 'as soon as you unpack.'

emo boy 🖤: 'please.'

It took most of junior year of high school to freshman year of college to get this proud bastard to say please and thank you but he did, even if it was just for you. Despite your smile, that nagging thought came back. 'Why do I need him so bad.' It felt like you knew the answer but it felt so wrong to admit it.

you: 'yes sir 🫡'

You tossed the phone into the passenger seat with your purse and put your hands in your face. You love Judd, you really do. There's so much more to him than just some form of rebellion or new and exciting thing, but you couldn't deny it anymore. 'He's the break in the chain.' Then you hop out and get everything settled before seeing your boyfriend again.

Something was up with her. As I held her close, chin resting on top of her head and I rubbed her back she just held me tighter. I figured it had to be school. I've seen her stress out before, just for her to pull it all together and make it. She'd make a B look like the end of the world when school started, and by the middle to end she was exhausted. I liked seeing her stop caring sometimes. Not because I'd want her to fail but she was way too hard on herself, so if she ever did seriously fall behind on something I'd help pick her back up. This was different though.

Judd never understood why you were with him. His self esteem wasn't complete shit but he had heard enough romcom bullshit plots from Leah that you two matched the good girl and bad boy trope. When he thought about it, she wasn't wrong. He knew that if he went to college then it'd be specifically to try and burn a hole in his parents pockets. They'd cheer him on, mainly Elliot, for whatever the hell he did so it didn't matter to him. Though, college was a very big thing for you. He remembered you lowering expectations and tossing out your own dreams to please your parents. You were so pissed that they wouldn't let you just run off to California, and you settled for defying them by picking a major you wanted. Two years in, you were doing what you loved but at what cost? Just to leave that university with a piece of paper that said you stuck out four years of stress?

He looks down at you while you tried to cuddle even closer to him and he smiled. 'It's like she wants us to melt into each other,' and that thought alone spurred on questions of why. Not like it wasn't nice or anything like that. Though the only time you did this was when there was a lot on your mind, usually doubts. "What's wrong." He didn't pull away, or force you to look at him, his voice was steady and even, as he looks at you, the person he cares so much for. Seeing a head shake he could feel it in his gut that it was something about their relationship, about him.

Whenever you got quiet it was enough to make him worry, to question how long you two would last. He knew that you loved him but in moments like this it made him wonder if you still did. As the break went on he saw you less, and if you ever picked up the phone it was like your voice was hiding something.

"Are you thinking about breaking up with me."

That was the sentence to end everything between you two. You tried to tell him no but it only lead to him asking why. He had already heard enough from his family and friends about how he's not good enough. That you two paired together didn't make any sense but somehow it worked. He just wanted to hear it from you.

It's been years since that break up, but ever since that day you haven't felt a thing. You haven't felt anything at it's peak positive because now everything was the same. Even seeing him again at a bar didn't feel the same. You were both cordial with each other, he still bought you drinks, laughed with you, but it was all bitter sweet now.

#judd birch x reader #judd birch angst

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ronearoundblindly · 4 months

Note

for shut up jensen hehe

11. How do they feel about nicknames/pet names? If they like them, what pet names do they use? If they hate them, why do they feel that way?

17. How well do they communicate? Are they open with their feelings/thoughts or more reserved? Why?

32. Do either of them drink? If so, who’s the lightweight, and how does their partner care for them?

Questions from this ask game and for this Valentine's fic with awkward date!Jake Jensen.

Whoopsy, this got a bit spicy...

In typical dude fashion, Jake prefers more masculine nicknames or terms of endearment, specifically, 'handsome' and 'big guy.' He's not opposed to softer ones, but you'll have to only use those in private unless you want to upset him.

To be fair, he already gets relentlessly teased by his colleagues. Just let him have this, yeah?

As far as nicknames for you, he's waited so long to have his own girl and sweetheart that he sticks with the classics, too. 'Sweets' or 'sweetheart' are the most common. 'My girl' is mostly private and frequently sexual. 'M'lady' is because he's a fucking dork.

🙄🤣

Ehhh, Jake is not articulate with the more complicated feelings. He can deal in certainties--how much he wants you or what is attractive about you for him, saying 'I love you' actually ends up being pretty easy, etc.--but when it comes to things that Jake thinks he should feel a certain way about but doesn't, he struggles to say.

Like for whatever reason (because at first he doesn't know the reason), he can't share space very well. He hesitates to spend the whole night. He hesitates to use your bathroom or shower even. He definitely hesitates to move in.

This takes many coaxing conversations to comprehend until finally he confesses that he has so little space to himself when working that his own apartment is a haven in every way. He has complete control of that space. The eventual middle ground is moving into a place big enough for his own office/tech room and his own bathroom. Jake needs a retreat from everything. You are allowed in there, of course. It isn't a part of your home that's off-limits to you, but he's responsible for those areas. Nothing ever moves unless he moves it.

Oh yeah, y'all drink. Nobody gets blind-drunk for the most part, but you have drinks out with friends, with dinner, and most notably, play drinking games.

Jake loves drinking games--as well as strip poker, as discussed here--but gets overzealous and can get very drunk, very quickly sometimes. He's not a lightweight, but it can escalate when he doesn't pay attention to the volume of alcohol he consumes.

Drunk Jake gets handsy and has no tact. He will face-plant into your pussy or motorboat your breasts. This is just a thing you have to live with or preemptively stop him from doing/get him home quickly. There have been incidents of quickies in bar bathrooms because he will not stop grabbing at you or talking about how fucking hard you make him.

Spoiler alert: this is not a quiet man when he 'whispers' dirty things to you OR when he comes while tipsy. You absolutely have to cover his mouth and pray nobody overhears if you're still out and about.

The key thing about Jake is that you feel very safe with him, and that translates to a comfort where you trust you'll be okay even if you go a little overboard yourself. He's attentive. He notices changes in your mood easily. He can sober up super fast if he senses you need help or want to leave.

Ok and this barely has to do with alcohol but Jake has this thing about how romantic it is to be super close on your nights in. If you two are watching a movie together or even playing a video game, your body is against his, either by way of snuggling into his side or sitting between his legs. It's half the fun to hold his controller in his hands right above yours and try to distract you by kissing your neck (or you by wiggling your ass against his lap). I mention this because if you two are gonna sit that close and kiss and share everything, you usually share a drink, too. There's only one beer, or one glass of wine, or one cocktail on the table for both of you. Almost always your choice of drink, he doesn't have a preference usually, but it also creates fewer dishes.

Jake Jensen hates doing dishes. It's just...a thing...

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Jake Jensen Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#ro answers #ask game #jake jensen fanfiction #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen fic #jake jensen smut #jake jensen x you #jake jensen imagine #jake jensen fluff

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rosyjuly · 11 months

Note

approximately one million years ago you wrote a little 3 sentence fic about office workers George and Alex and I’m wondering how things are going for them IF you had any divine musings

Wolff finally takes mercy on them; hires three people for social media management. It’s only taken George half a year and two ppt-s to convince him that being under 30 doesn’t automatically qualify you as competent, and anyway his age is a depreciating asset. But they’re here now, and it’s great – they love to feature him, still, but at least it’s not him who has to edit the godforsaken TikTok videos to perfectly match the audio.

The only downside is that with the new colleagues, they desks no longer fit into the corner of the second floor where George has been withering away for the past two years. It wouldn’t make sense to separate the comms team, so Claire makes them move up to the third. It makes more sense to be with the marketing team, anyway, she says. But now they have got the sales department on the other side, and in the open-plan office there’s just a lot more calls George has to listen to while he drafts the copies for the latest campaign. It makes him miss the data analysts.

For the first few weeks, it’s not that bad. He either gets lunch with the new coworkers, trying to get to know the boys and girls in the marketing team, or has half a pack of crisps while trying to finish a press release, wiping his hand after every bite to avoid staining his laptop. Then the onboarding finally finishes and he doesn’t need to spend two hours each day to explain the ropes to Frederik.

All of a sudden, he looks around, watches everyone else type away or nod at their screens with their most faux-genuine face, and he feels deeply, excruciatingly alone. He picks up his phone, opening the WhatsApp thread with Alex. Instead of the steady flow of texts, he can see the date annotated after every message or two.

He’s told himself that the distance might do them good; that it’ll be healthy to stop looking over at Alex after every joke he cracks, that he shouldn’t be so attuned with Alex’s tea refills. A pint or two on Fridays would still be fine – hunched over a barrel in lieu of a table on the pavement, shoulders pressed together and complaining about the bloody ridiculous prices. But he didn’t expect this. The hollow, tender part in his ribcage that feels half-filled with regret as he thumbs through Alex’s texts about how he didn’t know Quality Assurance could be so bad, and maybe George should still be doing that much overtime if it meant that Alex didn’t have to listen to one more overzealous phone apology.

You think Sales is much better? he sends back. It’s just past noon. Wanna grab an early lunch?

YES. You won’t believe the bs Marko pulled this morning, Alex sends back almost immediately.

George shuts his laptop, doesn’t announce that he’s getting food for once, lest someone tries to join him. Walking back into data analysis should not make anyone feel fond, yet here he is; the philodendron on Patrick’s desk has a new leaf.

“Here to pick Alex up?” Patrick asks, pushing his headphones back. It makes George’s stomach warm, both with embarrassment and, mortifyingly, with pride.

“You know how he is,” he tells Patrick, “gets lost in those Excel sheets and I’ll starve to death.”

“I’m ready, shut up,” Alex says, saving his work with a few efficient motions. “First person to complain about me in the sheets, I’ll tell you that–”

“And how would I know?” George asks, trying to ignore the hot shiver that runs up his spine. Alex whips around and George almost walks into his chest; when he raises his eyes, Alex is looking at him with his head tilted, like he’s a pattern Alex needs to find in a set of corrupted data.

#i cannot find the old prompt for the LIFE OF ME #sorry i got carried away thinking about structures as usual #george/alex #little fic #rosy.ask #my fic

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cal-daisies-and-briars · 1 month

Note

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮 (I love Cranberry)

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️ (WEDDING WEDDING WEDDING)

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐

YEAH!

69 for 🦮:

---

The whole thing had made him do a lot of soul searching. A lot of research. A lot of honest reflection on his life and his relationships with women and men. Ultimately, he’d comfortably settled on the label bisexual. He’s even told Eddie as much, carefully and in a way that didn’t put the focus on whatever the two of them have. Eddie had seemed glad to hear it, has been supportive, but hasn’t said anything about himself.

It’s all fine by Buck. He can wait. He’ll be as patient as he needs. For the time being, they are something in between friends and boyfriends. Closer and more intertwined than any friends Buck knows, but with none of the physical aspects of dating, save the occasional sleepover where Buck stays in Eddie’s bed.

“You’re freezing,” Buck says.

Eddie nods. “Can’t get warm.”

“Let’s get you home?” Buck suggests.

Eddie nods again. He pulls away from Buck and crouches to see Cranberry. Usually, he’s vigilant about not touching her while she’s vested in public. More vigilant than Buck would be, even. Tonight he has less composure. He reaches forward for Cranberry, she shuffles forward into his space, popping up so she’s on her back legs, front paws on his shoulders. She nuzzles her head into his shoulder. This is a little routine the two of them have at home. Something she only does for Eddie. Buck thinks it’s adorable, albeit somewhat naughty.

“Thanks, girl,” Eddie whispers into Cranberry’s silky fur. “Thanks for coming.”

Cranberry licks his ear.

Very naughty girl, really. Stealing kisses in hospital waiting rooms.

“Come on, Cran,” Buck says. “Let him up.”

Cranberry hops off of Eddie and does a deft little pivot back into heel. Eddie rises, a bit slow and stiff. Buck puts a steadying hand on his back. If Eddie notices the way Bobby watches this interaction, he doesn’t show it.

🦮🦮🦮

The first half of the drive is absolutely silent. Buck blasts the car heater. He can hear Cranberry start to pant in the back. Buck isn’t super comfy either but they’ll both be okay for a little while. Eddie needs this.

Buck doesn’t ask him about what Bobby said.

We thought we’d taken precautions against him ending up stuck. You can ask Eddie what he did to circumvent those.

Buck’s sure that means Eddie did something stupid heroic. He remembers Eddie climbing into a burning horse to rescue a trapped kid. Like he’d been overcome by the spirit of a Marvel superhero. Eddie isn’t typically reckless. Not the way Buck used to be. But it’s there inside him, buried not quite deep enough to be completely covered up.

“I really almost died,” Eddie mumbles eventually, when they stop at a red light. “I almost passed out, swimming.”

Buck inhales sharply.

“I’m fucking glad you didn’t.”

He doesn’t know what else to say. He’s almost died a few times now. He knows I’m sorry feels empty.

“I don’t know what would have happened,” Eddie whispers.

What would have happened? If Eddie drowned? Obviously Eddie knows the mechanics. He’s a medic.

“You don't have to worry about that,” Buck says firmly. “You’re alive. And you saved that kid, right?”

“I saved that kid. Hayden. Someone else’s son.”

---

72 for ⚡️:

---

“No,” Buck replies apologetically. He presses three big, theatrical kisses to Eddie’s forehead. “Just one more week of work and then we’re getting married!”

Eddie chuckles. “Was that so hard?”

“No,” Buck says between more kisses. “No, because I’m the luckiest hungover guy in the whole world.”

“That’s me,” Eddie argues. He’s keenly aware that they likely sound as nauseating as he feels.

It’s been a fantastic few months, really. Wedding planning has been easy. Honestly, it has. Because they’re going so simple, there hasn’t been a ton to do. And there’s so many people in their lives that have pitched in to help out. Eddie keeps waiting for Buck to devolve into clipboard levels of neuroses, but it simply hasn’t happened. They’ve been lucky. Lucky and smart.

Eddie has a calmness about him regarding the whole thing. He’s going to marry Buck next week, and it’s going to be perfect.

“We only have to sleep today, right?” Buck yawns.

They don’t have to check out of the hotel until one in the afternoon. Adriana has Chris for the day. Their responsibilities are minimal.

“We’ve got a few more hours,” Eddie confirms.

“Good,” Buck murmurs. “I’m so sleepy.”

Eddie kisses the side of his jaw.

“Go back to sleep.”

After all, with every hour that passes, the closer they are to being married.

🗲🗲🗲

Buck’s head still hurts the day after their bachelor party. He blames Ravi. Ravi and tequila.

They have a shift tomorrow morning, but before then, they’ve received a last minute call from their real estate agent. Gianna. Gianna is young and enthusiastic and ready to find them “the perfect dream home for your growing family.” Literally. She uses this phrase at least twice a conversation. It’s become an inside joke between Buck and Eddie.

They don’t need the perfect dream home. They need a three bedroom within budget that’s accessible for Chris and has a decent kitchen for Buck’s cooking. This is proving more difficult than expected. Wedding planning? Easy. House hunting? A Herculean task. To be fair, they haven’t put their entire attention into it. Because of the wedding. But it feels like everything they’ve seen has been a bust. Either too pricey or too many stairs or basically just a closet.

We’re not in a rush, Eddie has reminded him time and time again. Every time Buck finds one of these viewings unbearably frustrating. And, yeah, that’s true. There’s no pressure. But if they both want a kid and they can’t have a kid until they have a new house, Buck wants to get cracking. It’s like the moment Eddie said yes, Buck went from wanting another kid to, like, needing one. He thinks about it all the time.

So when Gianna called to said she has something, Buck felt hesitant. He doesn’t want frustration about this so close to the wedding. But she insisted.

“It’s just had a big price drop, it’s perfect for you, and I think it’ll sell quick at the new price,” she’d promised. “Humor me!”

So they had. Residual headaches and fatigue aside.

The first thing they notice about the address Gianna sends them is that it’s within walking distance of Bobby’s. Not too far from Maddie and Chim’s or Hen and Karen’s, either.

“That’s promising,” Eddie opines on the drive over.

“Not for our budget.” Buck replies.

“What did I say about being a buzzkill?” Eddie warns.

---

24 for 🔼:

---

“Oh, there you go,” the doctor says. “There’s your fetus and there’s cardiac activity.”

Eddie looks at the screen to where she’s pointing at a not very baby-like blob. That's a little bit more than a late period. His jaw tightens even more.

“I-I can’t hear a heartbeat,” Shannon stammers. “Are you sure?”

“It’s a little too early for you to hear it,” the doctor says. “But everything looks alright. You’ll want to make a proper appointment with an OBGYN, though. I’m just emergency medicine.”

“Thank you,” Shannon tells her. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course. I’ll leave you to get dressed and send someone to discharge you.”

And then they’re alone.

There’s a long moment of silence before either of them says anything. Eddie is so angry. He’s trying not be emotional. He’s trying to stay calm. It feels impossible.

“You must have a lot of questions,” Shannon says sheepishly.

“You think?”

Eddie’s tone sounds a bit more growly than he intends.

---

24 for 👑:

---

Chim has to rush. He doesn’t have a lot of time to go home, get clothes, and get ready. He doesn't even know if he has a proper outfit. Oh, god. He has to go shopping for a nicer shirt on New Year’s Eve!

Hen finds him in the locker room, frantically packing his bag.

“I think I like the new captain,” she says with a knowing smile.

Chim pauses for a second.

“How did you do it? What did you say to him?”

Hen shrugs. “I just explained why I thought you deserved this chance. That’s all.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Chim says.

“That’s the thing, Chim. You do.” She shakes her head. “And you deserve to know whether or not you and this Maddie could be something special. So go see.”

Chim grins. “Thank you, Hen. I don’t say it enough, but I love you, you know?”

“I love you, too. Now get going!”

---

24 for 🩸:

---

“If I had to guess,” Athena nods.

“That’s insane,” May exhales. “That’s… This is wrong.”

Eddie thinks about Kim. If their hypothesis is right, this means she’s out there somewhere. Still alive. He swallows, a lump appearing in his throat. A path forward presents itself to him. One that seems damning to walk.

“Don’t you think about it,” Bobby says.

Eddie flinches, as though Bobby is reading his mind. But when he looks at his former captain, he sees that it’s not Eddie’s he’s speaking to.

It’s Buck.

“I’m not!” Buck insists.

“You absolutely are,” Bobby replies flatly.

“Okay, well maybe a little,” Buck admits.

“Buck,” Eddie sighs.

“Need I remind you murder is illegal?” Athena says. “And I am still a police sergeant?”

“Which is why it was only a small thought,” Buck says. “But it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Why is that?” Bobby asks.

---

48 for 💐:

---

She might as well take advantage.

May turns on the kettle in their tiny kitchenette. She grabs a mug and a bag of chamomile tea. Her brain really doesn’t need any coffee right now. As she does, she looks at one of April’s mugs in the cupboard. It’s white, with two animated characters on it. Characters she recognizes, but doesn’t know much about. One is a tall blonde woman in white armor with a sword, and the other is tinier, dressed in red, with cat ears and claws. Isn’t that that remake of the older cartoon? She-Ra?

May sighs and Googles it as her water boils. She doesn’t know why she cares. She doesn’t care. Curiosity killed the cat, or whoever the fuck is on that mug. May immediately finds an article about She-Ra and the Princesses of Power - corny ass name, in her opinion - and the “gay agenda.” She reads it through, surprised at how much queer representation is reportedly packed into a kid’s cartoon.

Maybe watch it, a tiny voice tells her. But that’s stupid, right? She doesn’t watch cartoons. Like, ever. She never got into anime. Not even adult cartoons, like Bob’s Burgers. Why should she watch this one? She’s here for Love Island and Too Hot to Handle, mostly. Not much television in general. A sweet little cartoon isn’t her style.

Why is she curious?

She doesn’t know, but she blames Buck.

May is pouring boiling water into her mug when the front door opens and April walks in. She immediately stiffens, grip tightening around the handle of the electric kettle.

“Hi,” April says, kicking off her shoes.

She’s dressed in a crop top and dark, high-waisted jeans. May can see a floral tattoo poking out on the exposed layer of skin on her midriff. She wants to know what the whole thing looks like. Just because she’s nosy, though. No other reason.

“Hey,” May replies, a little rigidly.

“Surprised you’re here,” April says.

“What does that mean?” May asks.

April raises her hands in mock surrender.

“Just that you’ve not been, lately.”

“Are you keeping tabs on me?” May demands haughtily.

April smirks. “I pay attention.”

May’s cheeks heat. She must be visibly bothered, because April’s smug, annoying expression only deepens. She bites her full bottom lip a little.

#daisies and briars writes #buck service dog fic #things we're all too young to know fic #buddie shannon throuple fic #madney cinderella fic #long death fic

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