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buddie-buddie · 7 months ago

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Buck drums his fingers anxiously on the steering wheel of his Jeep, his left knee bouncing as he waits out the red light in front of him. His shift ended half an hour ago, but the tension in his shoulders hasn’t budged. He thought the drive across town to Tommy’s would help— windows down, music blaring— but it’s done nothing to quiet the anxiety buzzing beneath his skin.

The light turns green, and Buck presses the gas pedal a little too hard, the Jeep lurching forward. Driving through the quiet, tree-lined streets of Tommy’s neighborhood usually settles him, quiets his mind in the way that only the promise of strong arms and that warm, familiar smile can. But tonight, even the hum of crickets and the soft glow of porch lights can’t soothe the unease twisting in his gut.

He pulls up in front of Tommy’s house and sits for a moment, his hands resting on the wheel. He stares at the front door, watching as a couple of moths flutter around the porch light Tommy always leaves on for him. It’s something so small, yet it hits him right in the chest every time. It makes Buck’s skin flood with warmth, makes those three little words rise in his chest until he can practically taste them on the back of his tongue.

In every other relationship, those words felt like a lifeline— something he had to cling to, something that had to be said and something that had to be heard, just to make sure he wasn’t standing on shaky ground. He found himself constantly waiting for that reassurance, always needing to feel wanted. Even when the words came, they didn’t bring the safe, steady feeling he was so desperate for. Instead, they left him restless, chasing a sense of belonging that slipped through his fingers, no matter how tightly he held on.

It’s different with Tommy.

He doesn’t feel rushed, doesn’t feel pressured. He doesn’t feel like there’s a countdown ticking in the background, waiting for the moment those words will finally fall from his lips or Tommy’s. He’s content to let it be what it is, for as long as it takes.

Because with Tommy, it doesn’t have to be said. He can feel it.

He hears it in the quiet moments that hang between them on slow mornings, when they’re curled up together in bed, limbs tangled beneath the sheets, the world outside forgotten. He feels it when they’re in the car together, when Tommy’s left hand rests on the steering wheel and his right hand settles on Buck’s thigh like it belongs there.

It’s in the small, thoughtful things— like the porch light, glowing softly and guiding him home. It’s in the way Buck’s favorite coffee quietly appeared in Tommy’s cabinets, how his fancy, hard-to-find body wash showed up on the ledge in Tommy’s shower one day.

It’s in the way Tommy leans in close, steadying him when his mind runs too fast, grounding him without a word. How he always remembers the little things— like Buck’s complicated coffee order from the cafe down the street from the loft, or how he always wakes up thirsty in the middle of the night.

It’s in the glass of water that’s always on the nightstand next to Buck’s side of the bed. It’s in the feel of Tommy’s hand on the small of Buck’s back when they’re out, a touch that says I’m here without needing to say anything at all. How, when Buck has had a hard day, Tommy makes space— quiet, gentle space— for him to just be, without asking for anything in return.

It’s in those little moments, tucked away between heartbeats and breaths, where words aren’t needed.

Tommy leaves the porch light on. And even if they haven’t said as much yet, it feels like love, all the same.

Buck leans his head back against the headrest and closes his eyes for a second, exhaling slowly through his nose. The knot of unease in his chest hasn’t disappeared, not entirely, but it’s loosened just enough for him to get a deep breath and turn the engine off.

He finally gets out of the car, grabbing his bag from the passenger seat. He walks up the path to the front door, the sound of his boots quiet against the brick. The porch light casts a warm glow over everything, and Buck finds himself smiling, just a little.

Before he can dig out the key Tommy gave him a few weeks ago, the door swings open, and there’s Tommy— hair mussed, barefoot, wearing one of his old threadbare t-shirts that’s too soft for its own good. Buck’s heart unclenches just a little.

“Did they let you out early for good behavior?” Tommy says by way of greeting, his mouth curling into that little lopsided smirk Buck loves so much. He steps to the side, his back against the open door to let Buck through.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Buck mutters, pausing as he steps inside to meet Tommy’s lips in a soft kiss. While Gerrard didn’t technically let him out early, it was the first time in the last few weeks that he didn’t approach Buck in the last twenty minutes of the shift to saddle him with a ridiculously tedious task–– the kind that takes at least an hour–– and tell him he wasn’t to leave until it was finished. Which meant that Buck actually left the station on time for the first time in the better part of a month.

“Hi, baby,” Tommy murmurs against Buck’s lips.

Buck exhales, the tension in his chest loosening just a bit as he leans into Tommy, chasing the kiss for a moment longer. His hands come to rest lightly on Tommy’s hips, grounding himself in the familiar feel of his steady, solid warmth.

“Hi,” he whispers back, his voice low and tired. He lingers there, forehead pressed gently against Tommy’s, letting the moment stretch between them.

Tommy pulls back slightly, his thumb brushing along Buck’s jaw in a way that feels like both a comfort and a promise. “Rough shift?”

“Uh,” Buck toes his sneakers off, leaving them beside the door next to Tommy’s boots. “Weird one,” he says, trying and failing to suppress the weariness that pulls at the corners of his voice.

He lets his bag drop to the floor beside his shoes as Tommy turns to close the door with a quiet click. Buck watches as he locks up and flips the porch light off, a quiet confirmation of Buck’s suspicions that Tommy turns it on for him, a 60-watt beacon guiding him here, guiding him home.

The realization settles deep in Buck’s chest, spreading warmth through him like a slow-burning fire. He doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of being cared for like this— so subtly, so consistently, without any sort of fanfare or obligation. It’s not something he had to ask for or fight to get. It’s just here, waiting for him.

Buck swallows hard, the tight knot of exhaustion and frustration from his shift loosening just a little more. Tommy catches the look on Buck’s face, his expression softening as he steps back into Buck’s space.

“C’mon,” Tommy murmurs, his hand finding the small of Buck’s back, the same familiar touch that grounds him every time.

Buck leans into the touch, letting Tommy steer him toward the couch. He slumps onto it, dropping his head into his hands with a low sigh. Tommy sits beside him, close enough that their knees bump, but doesn’t say anything else. He’s good at that— letting the silence sit until Buck is ready to speak.

“Gerrard hugged me,” Buck blurts out, his hands tugging at his hair.

Tommy goes still for a second, and then— “He hugged you?” There’s disbelief in his tone, and when Buck lifts his head to meet Tommy’s eyes, he sees that crooked smirk forming again, fighting to stay serious.

“That’s not even the worst part,” Buck mutters, voice tight with frustration. “He— He told me he’s gonna take me ‘under his wing.’” He tears his hand from his hair long enough to make air quotes around Gerrard’s words.

Tommy blinks. Then snorts.

“Under his wing?” Tommy echoes. “That’s where all the love and joy of life go to die.”

Buck huffs out a laugh. He leans back against the couch cushions, his hands falling to his lap. “You’re not helping.”

“I’m not trying to help yet,” Tommy replies, smirking again. He nudges Buck’s knee with his own. “I’m trying to make you laugh so you don’t spiral. Looks like I’m halfway there.”

Buck shakes his head, but the small smile pulls at the corner of his mouth anyway.

“Okay, seriously,” Tommy continues, his voice softening. “What happened?”

Buck sighs, letting his head fall back against the couch, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “I– I don’t know. He had us line up at the start of shift. Went down the line and was his… usual self to everyone else. And then he got to me and– and…” Buck’s voice trails off, discomfort curling in his gut as he relives the moment. “He– He told me I saved his life and then he hugged me.” He drags his hands down his face. “And now, suddenly, I’m his pet project.”

Tommy’s brow furrows. “He really hugged you?”

Buck makes a sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh. “Yeah. A hug. Not, like, a friendly slap on the back, but a full-body, completely awkward, get-in-here-son hug. You should’ve seen everyone else’s faces. I thought Eddie was going to keel over.”

Tommy lets out a low whistle, eyebrows raised. “That’s... something.” He leans back, resting an arm along the top of the couch behind Buck. His fingers slip into Buck’s hair, running through his curls as the silence hangs between them. Buck relaxes into the touch, tipping his head toward Tommy, leaning into the warmth and steadiness of his hand.

“Under his wing,” Buck mutters again, almost to himself. “I don’t even know what that means.”

“It means you’re officially his new favorite. Congratulations, babe. You’ve leveled up.”

“Oh, yeah. Lucky me,” Buck deadpans, dragging his hands down his face. “Just what I’ve always wanted—mentorship from a guy who makes my skin crawl.”

Tommy lets out a soft chuckle, his fingers still threading gently through Buck’s curls. The silence between them stretches, comfortable but charged, like Tommy is waiting, watching, reading Buck the way he always does. The humor fades from his face, replaced by something softer, more careful. “Okay,” Tommy murmurs after a moment, his fingers brushing lightly along the nape of Buck’s neck. “What’s really going on?”

Buck freezes for a second, caught between wanting to say it and wanting to shove it down. Tommy always has this way of coaxing things out of him without even trying. He approaches him with equal parts gentleness and insistence, like peeling back layers until Buck has no choice but to lay it all bare.

“It’s nothing,” Buck tries, voice thin.

“Evan.” Tommy’s voice is low, steady, patient. His thumb sweeps a slow circle against the back of Buck’s neck. “Talk to me.”

Buck blows out a breath, frustrated more with himself than anything. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, running a hand through his hair as if it might shake the thoughts loose.

“I don’t even know that I meant to save him,” Buck admits, his voice tight. “I can’t... I can’t tell if I pushed him because I heard the blade, or if I just— snapped.”

Tommy stays quiet for a beat, letting the weight of Buck’s words settle between them. His hand doesn’t leave the back of Buck’s neck, fingers still working in soothing circles. “Maybe it’s both.”

“Both?” Buck glances at him, brow furrowed.

“Yeah.” Tommy shrugs, his expression steady but kind, his gaze warm with quiet understanding. “You’re not exactly known for your patience, Evan. But that doesn’t mean your instincts aren’t solid. Maybe you snapped, and maybe you also saved his miserable life at the same time. Those things don’t cancel each other out.”

Buck lets the words sink in, his jaw tightening as he rolls them over in his mind. He exhales slowly, the tight knot in his chest loosening just a bit. “I– I don’t know. I keep thinking, what if– what if it wasn’t instinct? What if it was just... me losing control?”

Tommy’s thumb strokes a slow path along the back of Buck’s neck, and he leans in even closer, their foreheads almost touching. “You’re human,” Tommy says, his voice gentle. “You get angry. You hit your limit. But you wouldn’t have let him die, even if you wanted to knock his teeth out.”

Buck huffs out a wet laugh, shaky but real. “I definitely wanted to knock his teeth out.”

Tommy grins, brushing a kiss against Buck’s temple. “Rightfully so.”

Buck closes his eyes for a moment, letting himself sink into the warmth of Tommy’s presence, the steadiness of his voice, the way his hand stays firm and reassuring on the back of his neck.

“I just don’t want him anywhere near me,” Buck admits, well aware of how petulant and childish he sounds— and yet, he doesn’t care. Something about Tommy makes it easy for Buck to drop the mask he wears everywhere else, to let the frustration and helplessness spill out without fear of judgment. With Tommy, he doesn’t have to be composed or tough all the time; he can just be— messy, tired, and human. Tommy’s presence is like a safety net, one that will catch him no matter how ridiculous he sounds or how tangled his emotions get.

“I don’t know how I’m going to survive this,” Buck mumbles, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“You will,” Tommy says without hesitation. “Keep your head down, lean on all of us who’ve got your back, and wait him out. He's going to burn out or screw up sooner or later. You’ve just gotta outlast him.”

Buck huffs a tired, bitter laugh. “I’m not good at keeping my head down.”

“I know,” Tommy murmurs, his lips brushing the top of Buck’s hair in a soft, steadying touch. “But you’re good at the important stuff— like saving people. Even assholes who don’t deserve it.”

Buck closes his eyes, leaning into Tommy, the familiar weight of his hand still resting on the back of Buck’s neck. The knot in his chest loosens just a little more, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit under the warmth of Tommy’s words. “Yeah, well... maybe I’m getting tired of being good at that.”

Tommy’s arms tighten around him, pulling Buck closer. “That’s okay, too,” Tommy says simply. His voice is barely louder than a whisper, low and steady and full of quiet, unwavering conviction. “You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to carry all of it by yourself.”

Buck closes his eyes, sinking deeper into Tommy’s embrace. This time, when those three little words rest on the tip of his tongue, he doesn’t swallow them down. Even though he knows they won’t ever be enough, he can’t think of anywhere better to start.

“I love you,” Buck whispers, the words slipping out like an exhale, simple and unforced.

For a moment, Tommy stays perfectly still, as if letting the words settle between them. Then, slowly, a smile curves against Buck’s temple.

Tommy presses a kiss to the top of Buck’s birthmark, soft and reverent. “I love you, too.”

And just like that, everything feels lighter. Not perfect. Not fixed. But it’s enough.

It’s quiet between them, the kind of silence Buck used to hate. The kind he used to scramble to fill with words, desperate to bridge the gaps. But here, in Tommy’s arms, the silence feels different. It feels easy. It feels safe.

It feels like home.

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broareweabouttoviberightnow · 4 months ago

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"WHERE IS DARRY?" Soda is on his feet before the screen door slams, Steve jumpin' off the sofa beside him.

"What is it, Pony?" Pony rounds the corner with a wide, crazed grin 'n Darry comes barrelin' down the hall. "What's wrong?"

"Darry- they fuckin' broke up!" A brief wave of confusion passes across the panicked plains of Darry's face before his jaw drops open in delighted shock.

"No." He snatches Pony's arm, leads him back into the kitchen 'n plops down at the table. "Carrie-Ann? Are you sure?" Darry leans forwards, elbows on his knees, eagerly. Pony cackles at havin' got exactly the reaction he wanted.

Steve shoots Soda a glance 'n Soda rolls his eyes fondly, crashin' back down onto the sofa. Steve shuffles around the arm, clearly listenin' in but tryin' to be the nosy allegations. "What are they on about?"

Soda cranks the volume of the TV waves a hand dismissively. "Some couple at school. God, you would think their lives depended on it the way they talk about it."

"Hush, from the peanut gallery in there." Darry shushes him from the kitchen 'n Soda wiggles his eyebrows.

"Not our fault you don't got the attention span for a good story." Soda clutches his hand to his chest in mock offense 'n it's Pony's turn to roll his eyes.

"Wait, Carrie-Ann 'n Tommy? Ain't they been goin' together for a couple years now?" Steve stops pretendin' to be indifferent, drifts into the kitchen.

"Steve, not you too!" Darry splits into a grin and Soda sticks his tongue out.

"Yeah! But only 'cause she told him she was pregnant last year! He was gonna leave I swear! I heard Jerry tell Susan in my math class." Steve scrunches his face up and Pony shakes his head earnestly.

"Well, it would serve him right. Tommy was in my English and he'd bat those stupid eyes at anythin' that moved- even when he was pinned. That Carrie girl deserved better." Steve hops up onto the counter with a firm nod 'n Soda throws himself dramatically across the couch with a groan.

The back door swings open 'n Dallas appears in the living room, glancin' into the impromptu gatherin' around the table. "Woah woah woah, y'all talkin' about me? I'm sure it's all good shit."

He ducks over to Soda, jabbin' him in the ribs and slidin' out of the way when Soda kicks at him. He misses but rolls off the couch and dives for Dallas' knees. Dally goes down hard and Soda howls his laughter.

"Nah, one of the couples up at school broke it off." Steve leans dangerously far over Pony 'n snatches one of the grandma candies Darry loves so much from the bowl.

"Who?"

"Dallas!" But they all knew it was a lost cause. If Darry 'n Pony were drama fiends, Dallas was a hound for the stuff. He was always showin' up with some new juicy tidbit. Sometimes Soda would swear Pony loved Dallas more than him solely for the fact Dallas seemed to have his nose in everythin'.

"Carrie-Ann 'n-"

"Tommy? No fuckin' way." Dallas detangles himself from Soda, shoves Steve over, 'n climbs up onto the counter. Soda shoots him a glare he misses entirely. He flops flat onto the floor, tucks his hands under his head, and refocuses on the beach flick. Or tries to.

"I heard she cheated on him." Dallas leans forward conspiratorially and Pony 'n Darry's jaws fall open in twin shocked expressions.

"No way, really!"

"I'm sorry, you're sayin' Carrie cheated on him?" Dallas raises an eyebrow haughtily and leans back on his hands.

"Swear to God."

"Wait." All four heads swivel to Soda as he sits back up, somethin' prickin' at his memory. "Tommy. Tommy Dil- somethin' right? His daddy owns the car lot close to the river, yeah?"

"Dilon, yeah." Darry leans so he can better see Soda through the door at the same time Pony says,

"Yeah, the one that looks like a Soc 'n talks like a greaser but ain't either." And Steve leans traitorously far again and adds,

"The one that thinks he's a lady-killer but nobody wants him but Carrie." Dallas puts both hands on Steve's back 'n pushes him over so he can get a good look at Soda and hoots,

"Not even his mama wanted his busted ass. That's why he only lives with his dad." Steve shoves him off and Pony momentarily whips back around with wide eyes.

"Wait, really?" Darry bats him up the side of his head, the shit talkin' goin' a hair too far for him, apparently.

"What is it, Soda?" Steve quickly redirects the focus back to him before Pony can whine 'n Soda forgets what he was gonna say completely.

"I saw him at the Dingo with Cheryl last week. 'N they weren't just holdin' hands if I'm being delicate." He wiggles his eyebrows 'n the tips of Pony's ears go all red. Dallas howls and grabs Steve who is so bewildered he forgets to shake him off.

"Cheryl? Ain't no way! I never would have-"

"Ain't she goin' with Benny?"

"Man, I thought she was catholic-"

"I swore she didn't come to this side of town- didn't wanna dirty those damn gogo boots-"

"Soda." Darry fixes his middle brother with a look that could pin him straight to the wall. Soda blinks big, innocent eyes at him. "That true?"

"Hell no." He splits into a big mischievous grin and Pony lets out an indignant wail, launchin' himself out of his chair 'n onto Soda. Soda flips him onto his back easily but Steve is on top of him before he can blink, jabbin' him in the ticklish spot under his ribs so Pony can wriggle out.

"Since when are you 'n Pony on the same side?"

"Since now! Get 'em Pone!" Steve pins Soda's arms above his head and Pony goes to town ticklin' every place he knows will make Soda holler until he's red in the face. Soda rips one hand free and Dallas comes up behind Steve, liftin' him straight off the ground with the kind of wiry strength they all forgot Dallas had.

Darry instantly takes up Pony 'n Steve's side 'n it doesn't take long until there are no sides at all- just them all rollin' around and laughin' so hard their sides all ache.

"You know, I think I get it now- that drama shit is fun!"

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baisemains · 26 days ago

Text

A Thousand Words

lottie matthews x gn!reader

word count: 3.8k

contains: modern au, both of you are mid 20’s, sickeningly sweet fluff, food mention, making out, established relationship, slight language, mention of jackienat, the l word is dropped, suggestive themes at the very end, a Lot of hand holding, just go with it

description: when your girlfriend finds out you've never been to a fair, she drags you to the local one for date night.

ao3 link | spotify playlist

lottie matthews masterlist

A cool breeze slips in through your girlfriend Lottie’s bedroom window, a welcome break from the heat that’s been plaguing your town the last couple weeks. The sun will start setting soon, and the two of you are a tangle of limbs atop her plush comforter, having just woken up from a nap.

You’ve started scrolling on your phone, looking through social media and seeing how everyone’s been spending their summers. A couple of your friends posted on their story that they visited a fair yesterday, and the location tag tells you that it’s local. Noticing something, you announce your interesting discovery to the room.

“Jackie and Nat both posted that they were at the fair yesterday but they didn’t tag each other,” you snicker. “I don’t know why they’re acting like we don’t all know they’re dating, they’re shitty liars anyway.”

Turning around in your arms, deep brown eyes find your own, shining with excitement.

“Wait, I saw that! I was gonna tell you when we were on the phone last night but I fell asleep.”

She laughs, grabbing her phone and typing quickly, then turning the screen towards you to show what she was doing. She had pulled Jackie’s story up and typed a message into the reply bar.

Just tag Nat already, we know.

“Should I send it? It’s kinda messy but they’ve been doing this for weeks, like, just hard launch already.”

“Do it. They’ll get married thinking they’re still being subtle.”

At your encouragement, Lottie sends the note off, locking her phone and chuckling to herself, already imagining her friend’s reaction.

“Jackie might actually get pissed at me for that.”

“Yeah, well, someone’s gotta give their asses a push.”

Setting your own device down, you wrap your arms around your girlfriend’s waist and pull her close.

“And if she tries giving you any shit for it, just tell her I told you to do it, she’s still kinda scared of me.”

Giggling, Lottie slowly leans into you, pausing only a breath away from your lips.

“My knight in shining armor.”

“Damn right.”

You close the gap and gently slot her lips between your own, applying the slightest amount of pressure. Hearing a hum, you just barely open your mouth, teasing her bottom lip with the very tip of your tongue. You feel her groan before taking over, kissing you with fervor as her hands slide up your neck to cup your face. The energy shifts after a few minutes, turning into something softer before the two of you separate and stare into each other’s eyes.

Lottie then looks past you out to her window and notices the color starting to change in the sky, sitting up to take pictures of it. She has easily over a thousand sunset photos but she insists on taking some every chance she gets, and you love how she enjoys little things like that.

Laying your head in her lap, Lottie moves a hand from her phone to scratch at your scalp, the action causing you to let out a noise akin to a purr. Looking down, she smiles and exposes her fangs, another one of your favorite things about her.

“Comfy?”

“Mm, yes actually, thank you for asking.”

That gets a laugh out of her, and at the same time, she gets a notification saying that Jackie has messaged her back. Opening it, she reads Know what? We’re friends. Groaning, Lottie simply shows you her phone, causing you to roll your eyes.

Grabbing it from her, you type out Everyone knows you’re dating, stop being a pussy and launch already 🙄 , sending the message and tossing the device on the bed behind you.

“It’s done.”

Lottie looks at her phone with wide eyes, shifting her gaze to you.

“Babe, what did you tell her?”

Smirking, you stretch your arms above your head and pat your stomach, suddenly hungry.

“What she needed to hear.”

Your girlfriend lets out a sigh at that, you were much more direct than she was and she wishes she could be fearless like that sometimes. She watches you stand up from her bed, steps relaxed as you make your way to the full length mirror on her wall, checking yourself out.

“You ready to eat? That nap gave me an appetite.”

She’s looking at her phone again, swiping through other people’s stories, Damn, everyone’s at the fair lately. She gets an idea and leans back on her elbows, waiting for you to look at her.

When you do, she’s wearing that smile that you love so much, and you subconsciously match it, walking over and placing your hands on her cheeks, enamoured by her. She brings hers up to cover them, turning to the side to kiss your palm.

“How do you feel about having dinner at the fair? I have a craving for a corn dog now.”

A corn dog? Out of everything in the world she could have? Just a few days ago, she took you to a Michelin star restaurant because she wanted pizza.

You look at her with a puzzled expression, eyebrow raised, but Lottie‘s looking at you with those glossy doe eyes and you’d have given her anything she wanted in that moment. Though you have no idea what to expect, you agree.

“I mean, yeah, that’s cool, there’s a first time for everything, I guess.”

Squealing, she stands up from the bed, pressing a kiss to your lips before looking in her closet for a change of clothes. She finally registers what you said and looks over her shoulder, asking you a question.

“What do you mean, first time? Do you not eat when you’re there?”

You’ve moved to look around Lottie’s room, knowing she can take a while to get dressed.

“No, I mean I’ve never been to a fair.”

Seeing her freeze out of the corner of your eye, she turns to you, mouth agape.

“What?! Like not even as a kid with your family?”

Scratching the back of your neck, you now feel a bit embarrassed that you’ve never participated in this seemingly important activity before.

“Just never got around to it, I guess…”

Lottie realizes that she made you uncomfortable and tries to rectify the situation. Her face quickly softens and she steps in front of you, placing a gentle hand on your cheek, a gesture you’ve told her relaxes you.

“Babe, it’s okay, no shame in that. Sorry for being surprised, I just assumed most people have been before, but that’s dumb, everybody’s experiences are different.”

With a small nod, you look back at her, finding comfort in her understanding.

“But don’t worry, we are gonna go and have a great time, I promise.”

She punctuates her sentence with a kiss to your nose, and you laugh as she walks back to her closet, deciding what to grab among her abundance of clothes.

That’s another thing you loved about Lottie. Though she grew up an only child, she was very emotionally mature, and if she ever misstepped, she always apologized. She was also exceptionally giving and always made sure to provide you with experiences you otherwise might never have had. You were incredibly lucky.

“Okay. Don’t take too long getting ready though, I am getting hungry.”

Chuckling, she promises to do her best as you head to her bathroom to freshen up, distracting yourself from staring at your girlfriend while she changes or you definitely won’t make it to the fair. Almost a half hour later, she’s in a new outfit and has touched up her makeup, the sight taking your breath away. Though she’s just in a t-shirt and pants, her beauty is undeniable and never fails to stop you in your tracks.

“Oh.”

Taking your short response as a bad thing, Lottie looks down at herself, suddenly nervous.

“Is it too much? I picked leather pants instead of jeans cause I’ve never worn these but I can change—“

You cut her off mid rant by cupping her chin and pulling her into a firm kiss. When you pull back, Lottie looks dazed and is adorning a goofy smile.

“You look amazing. It was a ‘I can’t believe I’m dating the most gorgeous woman in the world’ 'oh', I promise.”

A slight blush begins to creep onto her cheeks and she looks down at her feet, bashful.

“Ah. Okay, thank you.”

Sliding your hand into hers, you squeeze it to bring her attention back to you, beautiful brown eyes gazing into yours.

“Ready?”

She nods excitedly, ready to create new memories with you.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

She leads you out to your car, moving to open the passenger door before you press a firm hand to it.

“Allow me.”

When you grab the handle, Lottie giggles as she slides in, blowing you a kiss as you make sure the door is firmly shut. Walking around to the driver’s side and settling in, you hand your phone to her to pick the music, turning the car on and starting the journey there. Your hands lay intertwined on her thigh the whole drive, windows cracked as the summer air envelops you both, sunset now visible through the windshield.

Once you arrive, you hop out and escort your girlfriend from the parking lot to the entrance, walking to the back of the short ticket line. Lottie plays with your fingers as you wait, always having to be touching you somehow. When you first started dating, you thought it was a jealousy thing but you soon learned that she just loved physical contact.

It’s finally your turn and when the cashier tells you your total, you begin pulling out your wallet before Lottie grabs your wrist, stopping you.

“Let me.”

“Lot,” you start to protest but she simply pouts and your resolve cracks instantly.

“This was my idea so I should pay. Please.”

Sighing, you can’t argue with that, though you want to, and your girlfriend beams as you put your hand back in your pocket. After paying and thanking the ticket person, Lottie grabs your hand and pulls you towards the entrance, stopping in front of the lit up sign overhead.

“Let’s take a picture.”

She pulls out her phone before you can decline, not that you would have, and faces it towards the two of you. Centering you both and making sure the sign is visible, she snaps multiple photos, grinning in every one.

“Okay, what do you wanna do first? There’s carnival games, rides, food stands, we can do whatever you want.”

Your stomach grumbles at that exact moment, causing you both to laugh.

“Food it is.”

Walking over to that area, you’re overwhelmed with the options, reading every sign like a kid in a candy store. Fried pickles, fried Oreos, fried cheesecake. Whoa.

“Is everything here fried?”

Lottie giggles at your statement before a look of realization crosses her face.

“Um, no? There’s definitely other things to eat, I promise.”

Seeing a booth that looks promising, you internally cheer when you see more common food options. You settle on nachos and a soft pretzel, a safe bet before you dive into the more intense choices, and Lottie gets her corn dog. You make sure to pay before she can even try, practically skipping over to a nearby table.

Sitting down across from each other, you begin eating, seeing the content look on your girlfriend’s face as she enjoys her meal.

“Man, I haven’t had a corn dog from here in forever.”

A faraway look blooms in her eyes before she continues.

“My parents used to take me every year before they got divorced, it was one of the few places they wouldn’t argue.”

Nodding along, you don’t say anything as Lottie recaps her favorite memories from this place. Early on in your relationship, she told you that her parents separated when she was young, and you knew it was a sore subject for her, rarely ever talking about it. You reach a hand across the table and squeeze it, letting her know you’re there for her.

A sad smile appears for a second before she looks back at you, eyes roaming over your face.

“But now I get to make new memories with you.”

Raising her hand to your mouth, you press your lips to her knuckles in silent support. Her smile widens at the sweet act, and the look on her face has you mentally cursing out everything that’s ever caused her pain.

“I’m definitely full now. Can we go check out the games?”

Her enthusiasm is infectious and you can’t help but feel the corners of your lips tugging up into a grin.

“Of course, come on.”

Getting up and clearing your trash, the two of you head over to the carnival area, arms swinging between you. Lottie plays a few different games, not winning anything, and she asks if you want to join her but you’re content just watching her at the moment. Reaching the very last booth, Lottie sees something that has her stopping in her tracks.

“No way. Babe, look!”

She rushes over to stare at a large deer plushie hanging on the back wall, complete with dark lashes and glossy eyes that mirror your girlfriend’s.

“She’s perfect.”

You stroll over to get a closer look and once your gaze lands on the stuffed animal, you know you have to win it for her. Getting the worker’s attention, you give her the amount of tickets required before finally looking down at the game. You hadn’t realized it was a ring toss, which you’ve heard was notoriously hard, but you were determined.

Lottie backs away to give you plenty of room, and as the worker is getting you the rings, you try to map out your game plan. She tells you how many you’ll have to make for each prize, and when she says that you’ll need to land all 5 for the big ones, your back straightens up.

With no room for error, you toss the first ring and land it perfectly. Feeling good, you throw the next three with near perfect precision. The last one sits in your hand like a weight, and you take a deep breath before sending it up into the air, watching as it bounces off the bottle you meant it for, rebounding off of two more before landing on the very furthest one in the corner.

Lottie runs into your arms as you wrap them around her waist and pick her up, both of you ecstatic. Once you put her down, you face the worker who asks which prize you’d like to claim.

“The deer!” Both you and Lottie say at the same time, causing the girl in front of you to laugh and head to the back of the booth to grab it. She brings it over to you a minute later, handing it straight to Lottie who’s practically bouncing with excitement. Thanking the employee and wishing her a good night, Lottie drags you away, content with her winnings. She takes a generous amount pictures of it and with it, posting one of the three of you on her story with the caption our new daughter 🥹🦌.

“I can’t believe you won it on the first try, I wasn’t getting anything at the other games.”

You shrug with a smirk on your face, wrapping an arm around her hip.

“Beginner’s luck, I guess.”

Huffing, she bumps her shoulder into you as she playfully rolls her eyes.

“Sure.”

She’s going to tell you something else when a photobooth catches her attention and she looks toward you.

“Ooh, can we go take some pictures? They’ll be so cute.”

You’re down for anything at this point, feeling good after that win.

“We can do whatever you want, babe.”

You pull Lottie towards the machine, sliding onto the seat before pulling her into your lap. She draws the curtain shut behind her, both of you now realizing how cramped the space is. Feeding the necessary bills into the slot, you let your girlfriend pick the photo options, making sure it’ll be in color and give you two copies.

The countdown for the first picture begins and you pull her against you, her head leaning against yours as you both smile into the camera. The flash goes off, causing you to sit back before Lottie wraps her arm around the back of your head, squishing your cheeks together. For the next pose, Lottie pulls up the stuffed deer as best she can and places it in front of her chest. You take advantage of her being distracted and kiss her cheek in time for the loud click.

Facing you, Lottie eyes gaze into your own before drifting down to your lips and leaning in slowly, kissing you as you eagerly return the act. You see the bright light flash behind your closed eyelids but make no move to pull away just yet. Only once the unmistakable noise of photos printing announces itself does Lottie lean back, proud of herself for the effect she has on you.

Seeing the screen in front of you light up, you look to see that it’s giving the option to email the video that was recorded as the pictures were being taken. After sending it to herself to post later, Lottie bends over to grab the film strips from the tray they’re sitting in, cooing when she sees how they turned out.

“We look so cute.”

Facing them towards you so you can look, you immediately smile. The poses came out perfect, capturing the affectionate energy between you both.

Lottie flips one around and presses her lips to the back of it, leaving behind a subtle lipstick print, before handing it to you.

“That one’s yours.”

You can’t help but pull her back to you, pressing kisses all over her face before hearing footsteps outside of the booth, alerting you that someone else is waiting to use it.

Collecting your things, you and Lottie head out, giggling together as you pass the young couple who gets in the booth after. They remind you of yourselves and it almost feels like a full circle moment.

You’re now roaming the grounds aimlessly, hands intertwined as you begin heading towards the rides. Not looking for anything in particular, you end up in front of the ferris wheel and seeing that there’s not too many people waiting for it, Lottie turns to you with a smile.

“Wanna ride it?”

Nodding as you kiss her cheek, she walks you to the end of the line, and you two pass the time with conversation and picture taking, Lottie insisting on printing these photos out. Once you reach the front, the employee takes your tickets and ushers you into an empty cabin, closing the door behind you as you take your seats next to each other, setting the deer plushie on the floor.

The car starts moving up and the higher you get, the more you can see out towards the city. Night has fully arrived, and the lights below illuminate your girlfriend in a way you’ve never seen. Sliding away from her, Lottie looks at you in confusion before seeing you pull your phone out.

“I wanna take a picture of you.”

Smiling at your initiation, she begins posing for you, giving you plenty of material to choose from. Eventually, you reach the top of the Ferris wheel and stop, Lottie simply gazing out at the horizon but you can’t help but be in awe of her. Lowering your camera, you drink in her profile, wondering what on earth you did to deserve the woman in front of you.

“The view is gorgeous.”

Lottie softly smiles, eyes raking over the cityscape.

“Ugh, isn’t it? Everything looks so beautiful from up here.”

“I wasn’t talking about that.”

Turning towards you, she sees the look you’re giving her and her entire body begins to tingle, a warm feeling spreading from her chest outwards.

“C’mere.”

Obeying instantly, you move closer until your thigh is pressed against hers and Lottie’s hand is cupping your cheek. The moment feels so fragile that even breathing would shatter it, and all you can do is stare into her eyes.

“I love you.”

Big brown eyes shine with emotion, feeling so peaceful in this moment that she can’t help but utter those three little words that have gone unspoken until now. Breath catching in your throat at her confession, you always thought you’d be the one to say it first, but Lottie continues to surprise you.

Before you can think about it, you’re leaning in to capture her lips, over and over and over, conveying all of your feelings for the women in front of you. The cab jolting into motion breaks you apart, but you stay close, forehead leaning against hers.

“I love you too.”

When the ride finishes, the two of you step off, fingers intertwined, feeling light as air in the aftermath of the mutual admission. Lottie’s carrying her plushie, grinning like a fool while you have your free hand in your pocket, pinching your thigh to make sure this is real life. Both of you decide to call it a night after that, ending the evening on a high no one expected.

Reaching your car, you once again open the door for your girlfriend, allowing her to fit herself and the stuffed deer in the front seat. When you slide into the driver’s side and begin the drive to her place, the two of you settle into a comfortable silence, not feeling the need to communicate besides the occasional glance and hand squeeze.

Upon arriving, you park along the curb, turning the engine off and opening your door before rounding the hood to let Lottie out. She hops out of the car with ease, her smile remaining on her lips as she takes hold of your hand, pulling you towards the front door to her house.

Handing the deer to you, she opens her purse and begins to rummage through it, searching for her keys, and letting out a soft curse when she can’t find them quickly. You chuckle, stepping behind her, reaching around her waist and into the bag. Your front is now pressed to her back and your body is shielding both of you from the brisk night air. Finding the keys, you remove them from her purse, unlocking the door without any trouble, still standing in the same position. Lottie takes the chance to lean her back fully into you, enjoying the proximity.

“Are you coming in?”

You can hear the smile in her voice and you wrap your arms around her midsection, pressing your lips into her neck, leaving a quick kiss there.

“Of course, baby.”

Following your girlfriend inside, you kiss the entire way to her bedroom, the two of you expressing your love for the rest of the night.

(The next time you’re at Lottie’s, you notice the deer plush on her bed and the photo strip tucked into her mirror, constant reminders of the best night of her life.)

taglist: @t-wylia @theoreticalfreak

#my babyyyyyyy omg i could write about her forever #needed some proper fluff after this season 💔#she deserved so much better idc idc idc #side note: this picture of courtney is so perfect for this fic i literally squealed when i saw it 😭#my inbox is always open for lottie thoughts btw 🤲#lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews x you #lottie matthews fluff #lottie matthews #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets fluff #yellowjackets #sela writes

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t3am-r0adk1ll · 4 months ago

Note

Please I need a curly x reader fic where the reader see how stressed out Curly is and offers another way for him to relax…the cockpit has a lock…🙏 excited to see the fic if you chose to do this!

ok so a little short teehee~ i hope this delivers though!

You knew Curly just as well as any other crew member. He was a ray of sunshine, a beaming motivation in the midst of the sad grey ship you were all trapped in.

He was always cheering everyone up, saying words of ecouragement of advising them to take a break. Never did he show any signs of exhaustion, frustration, or anything else than joy for that matter. But you knew better than to assume he was fine. Of course being captain was an arduous task, he must've felt like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was so specially kind to you, or so it seemed to every other member of the crew.

You two had longer conversations after morning meetings and seemed to engage in playful banter while working, had your coffee together... y'know, stuff close friends do.

Little did everyone know how actually close you were. Or, well; right now, how close Curly was.

"Haah~ hun, keep that up and- shit..." He panted, gently pushing your head further down his cock. You knew just as well as he did that he wouldn't last long if you kept sucking him off like that.

Sometimes it was a blessing the cockpit had a lock.

And sometimes, the blessing was you, Curly thought.

The stress, the burden of being a captain would've driven him insane if he hadn't met you. Such a good friend at first, then gradually becoming fuck buddies one of those lonely nights at the Tulpar. You would either listen at him vent about his stress and burdens or make him forget about them with the warmth of your touch.

Not even five minutes later, you were bouncing on his lap, your plushy thighs and ass slapping against his muscular ones, the only sounds in the cockpit now were the wet plap plap plap each time he buried his length as deep as possible inside you, making your eyes roll back and your breath hitch, and the ragged breaths you two let out in an attempt to lessen the louder moans.

“G-gods… you’re- ahh- you’re amazing…” Curly mumbled in your neck, arms tightly wrapped around your waist while he helped you bounce up and down. “Captain~” you moaned, because you’d learned he has a thing for titles. At least when it comes to you. “You’re doing so good, hun… feels so good…” He always mumbled praises against your neck whenever he was close, it was his giveaway, so you gave your best to him until you were the first one to come—his request—and he followed soon after; whimpering your name.

Then you’d sit there for a moment, catching your breath, and after that you’d sneak out of the cockpit and into your respective quarters as if nothing had happened. But still, you both knew that it’d happen again and again. You were one of the few things keeping Curly sane.

Of course you’d do it, he was your Captain, he deserves it.

again, too short and took too long but here it is!!

#reqs open #mouthwashing #mouthwashing smut #mouthwashing x reader #curly mouthwashing #captain curly #captain curly x reader #captain curly x you #mouthwashing curly x reader #🐾. rocky writes ⋆˚꩜｡#🌱. rocky’s inbox ₊˚⊹ᰔ

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the---hermit · 6 months ago

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how I take notes on non fiction books

I recently made a post on my study method, and decided to make a whole separate post on my note taking method. The structure of the notes I write doesn't vary too much from my lecture notes to things I might have to read. A couple of useful informations you might want to know before I start actually talking about note writing is that I am mainly focused on studying history (tho I have had other humanities exams in my degrees), and that I study for oral exams in which the material is mainly composed of non fiction books, but sometimes include articles as well as lecture notes. Somehow I have also failed to mention that I am speaking about HANDWRITTEN NOTES. I only do handwritten notes, I don't work well digitally, so keep that in mind. And with this being said brace yourselves for a very long post. The bullet points I will be making are not really in a specific order and I will be including a few pictures too.

The first step when I am working on the materials for an exam is to figure out in which order I will be reading (and writing notes) the books. This hasn't really much to do with the notes themselves, but it's important to know which of your materials is more general and what other things go more in depth, so that you don't struggle too much while studying. Another plan related thing I always do is to write down each chapter of the book I have to study on my bullet journal and how many pages it is so I can plan my studying more comfortably. If the chapters are very long, and divided in subchapters I sometimes also write those down.

The goal of the notes I write is to fully take the place of the book, so they tend to be very detailed and long. I do this because the very act of writing is part of my study method, and working on things I have written down in my own words is just much better for the type of learner I am. So basically I read the book only once, then it goes back on the shelf and I work exclusively on the notes. This means my notes need to be detailed and well organized.

My method is to read a chapter, underlining important stuff as I am reading, and then right after I am done reading I work on the notes for that chapter before moving onto the next. I do this because it makes the note writing more effortless, I am fresh with informations I just read and I basically just need to skim over what I have underlined.

On underlining, since it is so important. I underline everything I will be including in my notes, it might seem much as sometimes it consists of full paragraphs, instead of key words. But this is okay because my notes I don't just copy and paste.

To create useful notes you need to be re-elaborating the informations. You need to read, understand what you read, and be able to write it down using your own words. That way the notes will be easier to review, they will often be composed of shorter sentences, and by doing so you are also actively making writing part of your studying and not just a mindless activity.

Personally I don't work well with full pages summaries, I need the text to be visually broken into sentences/small paragraphs, and I use a lot of symbols as well as abbreviations.

Symbols and abbreviations are in a way part of your very own language when you are writing notes, you tend to develop these with time, but they are so useful. I personally use different types of arrows, all caps words, position of the text in the page, different methods of highlighting and abbreviations (usually for words that come up often like country names, for example Italy becomes ita, France becomes fr, etc.).

Your notes need to be useful for you, they don't have to necessarily be comprehensible for another person (which means you can and will fuck up sentence structure because sometimes skipping a couple of words makes the notes shorter and still understandable), and they do not have to be pretty. They should be as tidy as possible, but again that might change from person to person, I have some very messy looking notes that make total sense to me. With time you'll learn what works best for you.

I have a visual memory so as I mentioned titles, highlighters, all caps, the placement on the page and other similar things are very important in my notes. I cannot fully exapain some of these things because some definitely only make sense to me in the moment (like the words I choose to write in all caps, or the way I highlight things).

I like to have a clear chapter and subchapter break (so that in case I need to refer back to the book it's super effortless). I like to write those with a red pen, usually the chapter title is in all caps and the subchapter in coursive, but it really depends.

I use only two highlighters in each set of notes yellow for dates, and the colour I associate with the book/the subject of the book (I have synesthesia I don't make the rules when it comes to colours). This of course might change depending your preferences and on the element of your notes you want to focus on. I like to have spacific colour for dates and time periods, because of course while studying history that is a fundamental element. If you are focusing on other subjects you might want to have a specific colour for names, or other elements.

I like to leave a big side margin to add either key words (especially in lecture notes since they might be messier and jump around informations more often), or additional information in a second time (sometimes it happens, after you read another book, or attended a particular lecture you have to add a couple of sentences and I rather have a blank space that never gets used rather than no space at all for emergencies).

I honestly mentioned everything that came to mind right away, but since note writing is now basically a mindless skill I have been practicing for years I surely forgot about something. I might end up adding to this post in the future or write another one. My note-writing method has also changed a lot thought the years from high school to university, it's a skill I have been perfecting for the past decade. This to say that depending on what you are working on things might change, and by experimenting with different things you might find out things that work very well for you. If you have any questions on specific things I didn't mention or that wen't clear my inbox is always open and I am more than happy to help.

Since this post is already very very long I am adding the pictures below the cut

Example of a page of notes before and after highlighting

Example of symbols and structure of the notes and the way I highlight things (in which you'll hopefully be able to understand my handwriting, and in which there might be some spelling errors but alas that often happens in my real notes as well so if there are any it's for the sake of accuracy lmao). If I end up adding informations on the margins I always use a pen of a different color so I can tell which informations I got from what source (ex. main notes from lecture, colorful notes from additional article).

Example of messier notes in which the main text in black are the notes I took during lectures and the additional colorful text was added while writing the materials (I rarely do this, it usually happens when the lectures follow a book precisely, which happens when we have to study books or summaries written by the professor). As you can see I often use post it notes to add more writing space, and sometime I even use them to create visually separated sections. If I end up adding some drawings I also usually like to have them on post it notes so they stand out more (and if you are wondering why the hell would an history student need drawings it's usually either because I need a map or a region/state to mark things out, or when studying for archaeology exams I often needed visual references, for example to identify different types of vases or decorations).

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aspiringtrashpanda · 1 year ago

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✨MC teaches the brothers about "jinx"✨

“I’m kinda hungry,” you voiced, your Curses and Hexes homework doing little to retain your attention.

Mammon snorted in response, not bothering to look up from his D.D.D. “Who are ya? Beel?”

You waited a second before retaliating, hoping that someone would come to your defense. Alas, it seemed that the brothers lounging around you had long learned to tune out any word from Mammon’s lips.

“I have basic needs like all of you too, you know,” you huffed, gesturing to the Avatar of Gluttony, cross-legged on the carpet next to you. The warmth from the fireplace at your backs cast flickering light over the crinkled chip bag in his massive hand. “Eating isn’t trademarked by Beel.”

Beel grunted, sharp snaps sounding from the rhythmic churn of his jaw.

Levi’s handheld console let out a chime that signaled some sort of victory. “It’s only, like, his whole personality lmao.”

Beel’s chewing paused, but Asmo swooped in first. “There’s more to Beel than food,” he cooed, “I mean, look at those sculpted muscles! He’s also the most handsome little brother~ ♡ ”

“Gee, thanks Asmo,” grumbled the lump of blankets on the couch.

“Aw Belphie, don’t be like that! I like your slender physique, too!”

Somehow, the mound of linens seemed to shudder in distaste. Asmo only shrugged, losing himself in his hand mirror.

“Asmo is right though,” Satan hummed, turning the page of his current book – A Comprehensive Guide to the Devildom’s Most Toxic Plants, “To define Beel as solely a glutton does little to recognize all his positive characteristics.”

Beel swallowed, before flashing a dazzling beam. “Thanks, Satan.”

The living room fell silent once more, save for Beel’s snacking and the crackling of the hearth.

“Hey!” You thought you’d try again. “Know what I could go for right now?”

You paused for anticipation, readying your answer. 1, 2, 3 and...

“Hell’s Kitchen.”

Your spine went ramrod straight, eyes locking onto Mammon in the split second after your voices had harmonized.

“Jinx!” You gasped, “You owe me a soda!”

“Huh?” Mammon blinked owlishly.

“Jinx!” Your enthusiasm was lost on your company. Your neck cracked as you glanced from brother to brother, your grin dampening when they looked at you as though you’d grown a second head.

Satan frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Is that some normie saying?” Though he sneered, there was curiosity in Levi’s eyes.

“You don’t have jinx here?” You barreled onward, explaining, “It’s a game we play in the human world when two people say the same thing at the same time.”

“How does it work?” Asmo pursed his lip, which only drew his attention to his shade of lip gloss, his mirror capturing his eyes once more.

You shrugged, “There are various versions of the game. Sometimes, the loser can’t speak until they buy the victor a drink. Other times, they’re silenced until their name is uttered aloud 3 times.”

Mammon lunged forward, toppling off the couch as he rushed on all fours to where you sat on the carpet. Before he could protest, eyes wild with a mix of fear and anger, you placed a finger to his lips.

“Nope! Not ‘til you buy me a Devil Cola!”

“LOL!” Levi rejoiced, “Mammon, you’re such a n00b!”

You weren’t the only one who noticed the way Mammon’s eyes brightened, Satan chiding, “Watch it. You can’t say his name or he’s freed, remember?”

“Oh~ I wonder how long he can hold his tongue?” Asmo giggled, finally distracted from his mirror. You couldn’t blame him. Mammon’s expression was a cross between anguished and constipated.

His jaw clenching, slivers of his teeth glinting through curled lips, you could feel the irritation radiating from the Avatar of Greed. Absently, you considered if you should tell him it wasn’t an actual curse. Did he know there was no power other than himself silencing him?

“Can he eat?” Beel inquired, genuine concern mingling with sympathy as he watched his older brother straighten up and march towards the entrance hall.

“You don't need to speak to eat,” Belphie's muffled voice reasoned beneath the blankets.

“HEY MAMS!” You called to his back, shoulders curled up to his ears in anger, “Buy me a Devil Cola, won’t you?"

And really, you hadn’t expected him to follow through at all. He left the room and you returned to your homework. Beel continued eating, Belphie continued sleeping, and Satan continued reading for the sole purpose of poisoning Lucifer, you were sure.

About thirty minutes passed before you heard the door to the Hall of Lamentation creak open.

“No way!” Asmo squealed, a shutter sounding before Mammon could sprint to the couch and swat the D.D.D. from his freshly manicured hands.

Your jaw hit the floor as you looked up at the second born, at the condensation dripping down the can of soda that he thrust in your face. A petulant pout only brightened his blush, the way his eyes looked anywhere but you. The red tint to his skin darkened as his brothers laughed, jeered, teased him.

The least you could do was offer him some praise. You smiled with all your teeth, “Thanks Mammon! The jinx is lifted.”

He scowled, waving off your gratitude with an unnecessarily noisy exhale. With his newfound freedom, he instantly started pestering Asmo, critiquing his most recent Devilgram selfies. As your heart swelled with affection, the words in your textbook falling on blind eyes too occupied by the tiniest movements of your family, you felt completely at ease.

You didn’t think you needed to elaborate, to clarify that you had used your pact and that there was no real magic behind the jinx.

However, when you entered the House of Lamentation two weeks later, you realized you had been very wrong.

The living room was a disaster, pillows tossed this way and that, candle wax oozing across something that looked suspiciously like a summoning circle. Splintered wood littered the carpet, broken chairs in a mangled pile next to the hearth. You were pretty sure you could smell something burning.

You nearly dropped the bag of groceries in your arms, Beel stock still at your side. One look at your shopping buddy told you he had no idea what was going on, concern blazing to life in his purple eyes.

“Lucifer?!” He called out, immediately seeking reassurance.

Instead of the eldest’s smooth drawl, you were met with an incomprehensible shriek from somewhere in the kitchen. A clatter of pots and pans. A crash.

Belphie came sauntering into the room, nodding in greeting. “The jinx didn’t work.”

“What?!” You gawked, surveying the damage to the room, “What is going on?!”

“He could still talk!” Satan fumed, stomping out of the kitchen with his bony tail lashing back and forth, “So I cursed him, but then that asshole reflected it, and it hit Asmo instead.”

Sure enough, a completely drenched Avatar of Lust was next to appear, his mouth moving a mile a minute and yet, not a single sound to be heard. He tossed his hands in the air, hissing something fierce before flicking a wet strand of hair from his face.

“And Asmo tried to charm Mammon to speak for him,” Satan was still ranting, “but Mammon tried to charge him for his services, which then set Levi off about repayment with interest.”

You hugged the groceries tighter to your chest, squeezing your eyes shut as you realized you knew exactly what was happening in the kitchen. You heard the roar, the rumble of the house’s foundation, the continuous rush of water drowning out twin shouts you had heard far too many times before.

But not as many times as the one voice that rose above them all.

“MAMMOOOON?!”

You winced. You’d have to buy your first a Devil Cola later.

*・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜

technically mammon was the one to provoke levi to summon lotan, so rip buddy. but let's be real, they're all getting punished.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN. READ MORE HERE.

#obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #obey me leviathan #obey me #obey me belphegor #obey me satan #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me drabble #my writing #aspiringtrashpanda #if you want to send me requests you can #the inbox is open

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gascreates · 8 months ago

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seeby s1 dino gaang :)

#look i swear i can also draw atla stuff that isn't dinos #i just. dont have any ideas for that ahdnhsjf #HINT HINT INBOX OPEN SUGGESTIVE EYEBALLS LOOKING SIDEWAYS EMOJI #who said that #no but really if the dino au is getting me drawing again then fuck it #woe dinos be upon ye #yknow im trying to write a fic for it #it's not going well agejhdjg #but! there is zuko whump :)#so it's all i could ever ask for agjdhjf #atla #atla dino au #ALSO IM. please appreciate the bush the right of and behind sokka. it's so sexy i forgot how to draw bushes after that one

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muffinlance · 6 months ago

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Everyone in house sick, baby awake screaming every half hour last night, brain no good for Serious Face writing, SEND AVATAR WRITING PROMPTS PLZ

k lov you bye

#aka inbox open until I get something I want to write #because I WANT to write but I have like maybe an hour #after having caught up on sleep for the majority of the day #HELP ME FEEL PRODUCTIVE BY GIVING ME ONE GOOD WRITING-ITCH-SCRATCHING-PROMPT FOLKS #thank you carry on #avatar the last airbender #atla #going to go for a jog then come back and see what ya'll have sent in

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busyw0man · 20 days ago

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⋆｡‧˚ʚ💋ɞ˚‧｡⋆ 𝐢'𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

❝ you don’t have to say anything just let me stay with you. ❞

❝ i’m here, and i’m not going anywhere. ❞

❝ you’re not alone. not while i’m around. ❞

❝ want me to hold your hand for a while? ❞

❝ i noticed you’ve been quiet lately. do you want to talk or just sit together? ❞

❝ you don’t have to pretend around me. i see you. ❞

❝ even when it feels like no one cares i do. always. ❞

❝ i brought your favorite snacks and something soft to wear. ❞

❝ let’s watch something silly and forget the world for a while. ❞

❝ you don’t have to be strong for me. i’ve got you. ❞

❝ can i just hold you for a little while? ❞

❝ i don’t know the right words, but i’m not leaving. ❞

❝ take all the time you need i’ll still be right here. ❞

❝ you don’t have to carry this alone anymore. ❞

❝ your feelings are valid. every single one of them. ❞

❝ just rest. i’ll stay until you fall asleep. ❞

❝ even in silence, you matter to me. ❞

❝ let’s take it slow, okay? i’m with you. ❞

❝ you are so deeply loved even when you can’t feel it. ❞

❝ i see how hard you’re trying, and i’m so proud of you. ❞

❝ lean on me tonight. i’ll carry the heavy stuff for a while. ❞

❝ want to lay your head in my lap and breathe for a bit? ❞

❝ you don’t have to explain. i just want to make you feel safe. ❞

❝ no matter what your mind tells you you’re not a burden. ❞

❝ i can’t fix everything, but i can be here. and i am. ❞

❝ i’ll sit in the dark with you until you’re ready for the light again. ❞

❝ i don’t need you to be okay right now. i just need you to let me stay. ❞

❝ i’ll be the one who stays, even when it gets heavy. ❞

❝ i know it’s hard to ask for help. so don’t. i’m offering. ❞

❝ there’s nothing wrong with needing someone. i need you, too. ❞

❝ you don’t have to fix yourself to be worthy of love. ❞

❝ if it hurts, you can tell me. if you can’t speak, i’ll still stay. ❞

❝ you’ve made it through every hard day so far. and i’ll help you through this one. ❞

❝ i’m not scared of your sadness. you don’t scare me. ❞

❝ let me hold you until the world feels less loud. ❞

❝ we don’t need to talk. let me just be here with you. ❞

❝ your existence makes the world better, even when you feel like it doesn’t. ❞

❝ i love you. not in spite of your sadness, but including it. ❞

❝ i know you feel like no one sees you. but i do. i always do. ❞

❝ you mean more to me than you’ll ever know. ❞

❝ i’m not expecting a smile. i’m just staying close. ❞

❝ i know you’re hurting. i’ll keep showing up anyway. ❞

❝ you don’t have to feel okay for me to love you. ❞

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bebx · 2 months ago

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i NEED more injured and pathetic and vulnerable in-ho…

Your wish is my command.

Another injured, pathetic and vulnerable Hwang In-ho fic, available here

lick your wounds, swallow your hurt with kisses

Summary:

In-ho's plan to infiltrate the game and gain Gi-hun's trust didn't go as well as he hoped when he found himself with a life-threatening injury after a fight broke out between Players. He could pull out now and get his wound treated. Or he could keep going and pray he didn't bleed out right in front of Gi-hun as Oh Young-il.

#my inbox is open #squid game #hwang in ho #the front man #frontman #457 #inhun #ginho #gihun x inho #gihun x frontman #oh young il #player 001 #player 456 #seong gi hun #oh youngil #i write things

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harbingersglory · 1 year ago

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Mayhaps something with (transfem) Kujou Sara fucking a bratty reader who (intentionally) pisses her off to the point where she goes all out with her full inhuman strength, ultimately knocking them up completely by accident because she was so caught up in the moment she forgot to pull out?

I bet nobody expected her to be first out of her siblings to become a parent, least of all herself, but she ain’t complaining!

{☆} characters kujou sara {☆} notes drabble, implied fem reader, sub reader, transfem kujou sara {☆} warnings 18+ content, breeding kink

Kujou Sara was not one to allow herself to lose her ironclad control– she was a general, above all else, a servant of the Almighty Shogun.

Yet try as she might, you..you had a way of getting under her skin in a way that had her patience and will tested. Maybe it was the bratty, teasing demeanor that had her jaw clenched so hard it creaked, or maybe it was the provocative words you'd whisper in her ear while she was trying to focus.

It was irrelevant in the face of her dragging you back to her quarters, her brows furrowed and her lips pursed into a thin line– she tried to be gentle, but her grip was firm on her arm as she pulled you into the delicately managed room, her composure cracking like shattering glass. She wanted to wipe that smug grin off your face when she slammed her hands against the door, the wall nearly splintering beneath barely restrained strength, her expression..less than amused.

"Just what are you trying to accomplish?" She ground out, her teeth aching from how hard she was clenching her jaw– and, though she refused to outwardly admit it, your little..distraction was working far better then she wanted to admit to even herself. "I told you not to..to do such things while I'm working. Do you ever listen?"

She nearly growled– like some common beast, she thinks, and she is glad for her tempered control that she did not embarrass herself in such a way. She still had her dignity. But Archons, you were testing that control even still– the way your tongue poked out like a child, mocking and teasing, as if you wanted her to snap.

She almost considered it, but..you were human, she had to remind herself. Archons knows she's never forgive herself if she actually hurt you.

"What? Can the General not handle a little playful banter?" Sara opened her mouth to snarl back a reply, but she closed it but a sharp click just as quickly, a grimace gracing her features instead. "Is that all it takes to rile you up?"

She wants to deny it, keep her sense of control, but damn it– the way your hands glide across her skin, your nails just barely ghosting across the flexing muscles of her back..she feels her control slipping faster then she can maintain it, her lip quivering.

"You.." She croaks out in reply, trying to subdue the uneasy urge that lingers in the back of her mind with every glance down at you, every touch of your hands, every word that drips from your lips like honey. The silence is broken by a low growl, her hands tugging you off your feet and practically shoving you onto the bed.

"What? Are you going to shut me up? Or are you going to admit you enjoy it?"

Fine, she thinks, fine! If this is what you want so badly, she's going to shut you up the only way she knows she can.

She wastes little time between shoving you onto the bed and climbing on it herself, one of her hands reaching up to tangle in your hair as she shoves your face into the mattress, her other hand fumbling with your clothes– just enough to expose your dripping cunt to her, nostrils flaring at the sharp tang of your arousal, her teeth bared in a snarl.

She can't help the raspy groan that tumbles from her lips at the sight– you looked perfect like that. Quiet, your face forcibly held down, your thighs soaked in your own arousal. She absentmindedly wonders if you'd been so wet the entire time– if you'd just been waiting, no, practically begging for her to just..she can't even finish the thought, her hands trembling and her control slipping even further.

Her free hand fumbles with the hem of her own shorts, freeing her straining, twitching cock, pre cum beading at the tip. Her fist tightens in your hair as she leans over you, pressing her chest against your back and aligning her aching cock to your entrance. She almost snaps out of the fog clouding her rationality, but it returns in full force when she snaps her hips forward, sinking into your cunt with a sharp hiss.

"Fuck," Sara curses beneath her breath, groaning at the tight heat enveloping her– Archons, she'd never get used to it. It only drove her further over the edge, rolling her hips to force more of her cock into you. "Not..not going to talk back?" She growled, huffing and releasing her hold on your hair to instead slip her fingers past your lips. The muffled, garbled response was..far more enjoyable than she expected, the hazy eyed look as she sunk fully into you.

It made her feel lightheaded, to be honest. She was getting a bit too carried away, but the way your walls squeezed against her..her teeth ached for an entirely different reason, tongue swiping over the sharp points before she leaned down to sink them into your shoulder, pulling out and slamming back in with a muffled groan. Her pace was frantic after that, dragging moans and whimpers from your throat like a chorus of broken notes.

She hated how easily you got under her skin, but damn it, she couldn't deny how good it felt to put you in your place. You couldn't even get away if you tried– you were human, and while it made you fragile it also made you weak. Easier to handle.

Even if your tongue was far sharper than your appearance would make one believe.

Archons, she was so close, though. She pulled her fingers from your mouth, nearly crumbling at the moan that tumbled openly from your lips immediately after– she may have chastised you for your attitude, but she still thoroughly enjoyed hearing you. Just knowing you were unable to form anything more complex then senseless babbling was a special kind of high.

She wants to speak, but even her own words fail her beyond a low groan, the absence filled with the slick sound of her wild thrusts, caring little about the stinging ache in her thighs as she pounds you into the mattress without a shred of hesitation or rationality beyond fucking you into silence.

A small part of her, the rational part, tried to remind her to pull out– but your cunt felt so fucking good she just kept going despite the sirens blaring in her head. Even as your limbs tensed and your voice grew hoarse from screaming, she kept you beneath her, nipping at your throat to leave her mark against your skin. She was so close, just..just a little more. Just a little longer. Archons, she doesn't ever want to leave– doesn't ever want to pull out.

Her hands grasp your hips tightly as she nears her own climax, slamming back into you with a broken moan– she barely registered the fact she had cum inside you beyond the thrill of it dribbling down your thighs, not even her cock enough to keep you plugged up as she tried to gain some semblance of control through the haze.

..Fuck. She was going to regret this. She was, every so slowly, coming back to her senses– the first thing she felt was embarrassment, then panic, and then resignation.

At the very least she hadn't accidentally fucked you into unconsciousness on accident.

She was much gentler as she sat up, her cock still half hard as she pulled out, inhaling sharply at the way her cum dripped down onto the sheets. She hated how arousing it was. No– no. She needed to get a hold of herself.

But then again..you didn't seem to be complaining, at least not yet. She hesitantly lifted her eyes to see your expression, her throat suddenly feeling dry at the smug satisfaction on your face.

#genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #minors dni #writing tag #kujou sara smut #kujou sara x reader #do you understand what this felt like to open my inbox and see this #it felt like a shotgun blast pointblank to the chest /pos #i am a weak man at heart i see breeding kink mention and my brain turns off #respectfully. lovingly. i am going to suplex you.#my weakness being used against me ohhh its over for me. if it isnt obvious by the word count idk man #quick hack into getting me to write for you. breeding kink. passes out #AND KUJOU SARA TOO??? lord have mercy #i am an electro women enjoyer this felt extremely personal #if this fic isnt coherent thats bc it isnt. i blacked out writing this. dont ask

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sceletaflores · 2 years ago

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Can you please please please write a smut FIC where reader and Mike is on the Night Shift and we end up thigh ridinggg!!!!

- ps we call him Mikey 😭😭😭

Body Language

pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader

word count: ofc it's 1.9k

warnings: nsfw 18+

authors note: hi anon! thanks so much for the ask, i had so much fun writing it! hope you love it! mwah <333

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“About time you finally show up.”

Were the first words Mike heard as soon as he walked into the security office of Freddy’s. He sighed loudly, shrugging his rain coat off to hang it on the back of the door.

"Don't start," he said gruffly.

Mike turned to face you, your body leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed over your chest. You had a smug smile on your face. "I was starting to think you got too scared to come back."

Mike scoffed. "Don't get too excited," He deadpans. "I just had some trouble with the babysitter.”

You don't respond, only following him with your eyes as he walks over and sits down in the one office chair in-front of the monitors. Mike can tell you've been here for a while now, if the half-drunken water bottle and empty protein bar wrapper sitting on the desk is anything to go by.

He only just starts flipping through the different channels when you speak up again. "You're in my seat."

He doesn't look up from the screen when he replies. "You weren't sitting in it."

You scoff loudly, he can hear you push off the wall. The sound of your footsteps getting closer and closer as you walk toward him. "I was sitting in it for thirty minutes before you even got here."

"You sound like a child," He replies, swiveling around to face you. Your body is close enough to slightly loom over his seated form. "Just go get another chair from the dining room."

"No, I was here first. The comfy chair is mine," You press. "You go get a chair."

"Comfy chair" was definitely a stretch, the office chair was only slightly better than the dining chairs.

Mike stares at you for a moment before swiveling back to the monitors. "No." He says, completely dismissing you.

It's quiet for a moment, before you let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine." You state, with a small shrug before shoving between Mike and the desk and unceremoniously plopping down in his lap.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Mike asks loudly, raising his hands up to avoid touching you. You've already gone back to work, idly flipping through the monitors like this is normal.

"You won't move, so you have to share." You say simply.

Mike stares daggers at your back, slowly placing his hands on either side of the chairs arm rests. "You're crazy." He mutters, but the last thing he's going to do is get up and let you win this weird ass game you've decided to challenge him to.

He tries his best to ignore you, he really does, but after a while he can feel his heart start to beat ever so slightly faster. Mike's not proud enough to admit that you're definitely attractive. He'd always thought that, even though you drive him crazy 90% of the time. You have a gorgeous face, and an amazing figure. Of course he would never tell you any of this, you would never let him hear the end of it.

So he doesn't, but on his lonelier nights, he lets his mind run rampant with visions of you on your knees, mouth open and waiting for his release. Or you on all fours, moans pouring out of your mouth uncontrollably as he thrusts in and out of your dripping cunt, hitting the spot inside you that makes you light up like a Christmas tree. Or you on your back, hands gripping his hair so tightly because you can't handle how good his mouth feels sucking on your clit.

Those nights are becoming more and more frequent these days, and he can never refrain from shoving his hand down his sleep shorts and fisting his hand over his hard cock furiously until he ruins his boxers.

Mike's brought back from his thoughts running rampant in his head by the mortifying realization that currently, with you mere inches away from his crotch, he's hard as a rock. It's not helping that all he can see is your silhouette directly sitting in front of him. Your curves fully on display, in your form fitting shirt and tight jeans. He can't help the way his eyes scan down your body. Greedily raking from your shoulders to your waist that tapers down to the swell of your ass sitting pretty inches away from his growing bulge.

Worst of all, you just won't stop fidgeting. Tiny, unconscious movements that jostle Mike just enough to make him feel his dick scrape against the zipper of his jeans. All he can do is stare, sweating bullets basically white-knuckling the chair in order to stay still, scared to even breathe too deeply.

Then it all goes to shit in a matter of seconds. You knock the water bottle off the desk trying to switch monitors, and when you go to pick it up you scoot back just the tiniest bit, but it's enough to grind your ass directly over his dick.

Immediately Mike has his hands tight around your hips, jerking you back up into a sitting position as quickly as he can. His whole body going rigid against the chair in embarrassment, eyes wide and mortified.

You're still too, back sitting up straight as a board. He's waiting for you to say something, to laugh at him, but you're silent. There's an apology on the tip of his tongue, when suddenly you push the chair out from the desk, sending you and Mike flying backwards. In a flash, you flip to face him sitting directly over his thigh. Slotting your knee between his legs and the chair.

Your pupils are blown, eyes swallowed almost entirely by black. "How long?" You ask, softly. It takes Mike a second for your words to break through the fog clouding his brain, but he's just confused. He tilts his head to this side in question, not trusting his voice to sound anything but fucked.

"How long were you sitting here with this," You specify what you're saying by pushing your knee more firmly against his hard dick, making Mike's hands spasm on your hips and choke out a soft whine. "Before you planned on doing anything with it?"

Mike can do nothing but blink up at you slowly. You look almost predatory, staring at him so fiercely he swears you can see his soul. You still haven't moved, he can feel the warmth radiating between your legs against his thigh. His hands jerk almost unconsciously, trying to get you to grind forward. You smile, looking down at your position splayed over his lap and back up to his face.

"What do you want?" You ask sweetly. "Do you want me to move, Mikey?"

Your words hit him like a truck, he moans loudly, nodding his head frantically. "Yeah? You want me to move?" You ask again, tipping into his personal space, hands flat on his chest. You lean forward, breath puffing out over his ear.

"Move me then." You hiss, directly into his ear.

Mike lets out a guttural groan, eyes snapping shut tightly. He wants to, so badly but he just can't.

"Come on Mikey," You goad, your eyes glassy. "Move me."

Mike opens his eyes, looking down at his grip on your hips. Ever so slightly, he shifts you forward. Your eyes flutter closed, lips parting to let out a small moan. Turns out that's all the encouragement Mike needs. He grinds you backward before roughly dragging you forward again. It's absolutely lewd.

"Fuck, Mike." You say breathlessly, chin dropping down to your chest, going completely pliable in his hands letting him move you. He can only stare incredulously at you, beyond shocked that this is really happening. He's waiting to jolt awake home alone in bed with a soiled pair of boxers at any moment.

But he doesn't, you're actually here. Sitting on his lap grinding a wet patch into his jeans. Mike hardly knows what to do with himself. Your body is warm between his hands, alive in ways he never thought to be possible. "Jesus," He whispers to himself, sweat dripping down his brow. “Fuck…!” Mike grits out, wrenching his head up to stare at the ceiling. “I can’t look”

He feels you falter the slightest bit, hips slowing down a fraction. “Why not?” You ask softly, a hint of insecurity puncturing your tough exterior.

“It’s too much,” Mike admits breathlessly, chest rising and falling rapidly. “I can’t look or I’ll come in my pants.”

You let out a small shocked laugh, but it’s quickly drowned out by another moan. Your body trembles with pleasure. "Shit, faster…go faster," You mutter, taking it upon yourself to speed things up. Hips moving frantically on his thigh. Your knee is still slotted tightly to his now aching cock, he can feel every move you make. The friction feels amazing, it's taking everything in him not to hump up against your leg like a horny dog. The heat from your body feels scalding.

The absolute vision you make sends Mike's nerves quivering. He needs more. He brings his hands up to your face, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb gingerly. Your eyes open, looking back at him, not ceasing your movements.

"Can I?" He pants, hoping to god you understand what he's asking. It takes you a second, but eventually you nod. He tips forward and seals your lips with his. His fingers sliding into your hair to hold your head in place as he kisses you.

He takes control of the kiss, tongue brushing against your bottom lip. You part your lips willingly for him, letting his tongue explore your mouth. He greedily swallows your moans, groaning all the while.

You break the kiss first, only a string of saliva connects your lips before breaking under the pressure of gravity. Your lips are swollen and red, glossy from kissing.

“Oh god…” Your whimpers ghost over his lips, forehead resting on his. “Oh, god, Mikey…”

“Yeah,” Mike replies, voice deep and scratchy from lack of use, he rolls his hips up the tiniest bit. “Yeah that’s it…Fuck you look so pretty, so pretty for me.”

You nod, hips moving even faster than before, losing the rhythm you’d built up. Your hands fumble down to furiously unzip his hoodie, tearing the zipper down to reveal his plain white tank top underneath. Your hands greedily rake down his chest, nails brushing over his nipples making him whimper out moan.

“Fuck Fuck Fuck, Mike,” You whine, grip tightening into the meat of his chest. He can tell your close without you even saying it.

“Fuck yes, come, come on my thigh.” Mike begs, gripping your hips so tightly it could border on painful.

“Shit! Mikey, I’m gonna come,” Your eyes are screwed shut, sweat making your hair stick to your face.

“Do it.” He pleads, not taking his eyes off your face.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Mike can feel your nails digging crescent moons in his chest as you careen over the edge. Hips stuttering as you ride out your orgasm, he can almost feel the way your pussy trembles as you work yourself through the aftershocks, cut off little moans forcing their way out of your mouth. Your body finally gives out, tipping forward to lean on his chest, wet breaths puffing against his neck.

Mike follows suit, eyes dropping closed as he unloads into his boxer shorts making a second wet patch seep into his jeans. Hips twitching up every other second. He moans loudly into your hair, trying and failing to muffle his noises.

When you both come back down, it’s silent for a few moments as you both wrack your brains for what to say. As always, you’re the first one to speak up.

“So…” You say between panting breaths, he can feel you start to smile against his neck. “Same time tomorrow?”

Mike chuckles up at the ceiling, pinching your waist lightly.

“Fuck off.”

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taglist!

@ebodebo @yuenity @mfdxz

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