#just something quick while I'm thinkin about it

[nihils-trolls]

From the Top

Yumech Dibiki | Wisp's Hollow | 4 sweeps of age

Here they sat again at the table- small, square sheets of old parchment laid out in front of them. Yumech was wholly frustrated with this exercise already, having failed miserably the last few times. It's evident just by the tired expression on their face.

"Maybe you should take a break. It's getting late, and your other studies are just as important."

Their mentor sits across from them, patiently keeping an eye on them to make sure everything goes smoothly. He can't really teach them anything else until they have this concept down.

Slightly stubborn as they are though, the young troll shakes their head. [One more time,] they say. [It won't be bad like last time, promise.]

The elder sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. However, he doesn't stop them.

"At least I figured out you have an affinity for the light domain. But I could have done without the blinding explosion."

His remarks make Yumech shrink slightly, the instructions of the exercise playing again through their head.

The mark of a mage is not their name, nor is it their sign or seal. It is something that represents their very being, and is unique for each user. To figure it out, all you have to do is pour yourself- or rather, your mana- onto the sheet here. But take caution: You must control the flow just right. Too much can cause an accident, and too little will cause nothing to happen at all.

Control. Without control, there's not much a mage can do besides hurt themself. As their mentor mentioned, the last attempt of this exercise ended with a literal 'flash bang.'

They pick up a sheet and close their eyes, focusing again. It's not that hard, just do it already.

"Think about it like a faucet, Yu," their mentor speaks up. "What you've done so far is cranked the handle all the way open, letting the water run full force. Not great, but you don't want it to just trickle either."

They open their eyes to try again. No explosions this time, but it does not go as they'd hoped. Upon pouring a bit of himself out on the page, the sheet sprouts roots and stems- the latter of which start twisting and shifting around the paper.

Yumech drops it immediately as to not be caught in the growth. As it clatters to the floor, the sprig bolts upright- roots digging into and through the flooring. It keeps growing to the size of a sapling, leaves and all- standing tall within the dining room.

Radinn chuckles before turning to Yumech again. "Interesting, I've never taught someone with such a talent for life, either. Try again, maybe dial it back just a tad more."

They slouch over and sigh, defeated. [I can't do it. This is stupid.]

"Hm." He feigns pondering for a moment. "Disagree with you, lad. This is vital learning experience right here, for me and you." Radinn shifts to lean back in his seat.

"Magic is fickle. In practicing any area or domain, you're going to fail. Likely very often. But how you view that failure is important. It's important to learn what not to do, so that in going forward, you can avoid those previous mistakes."

"Eventually, the craft will become second nature to you- like breathing. So try one more time, from the top. Then you will go take a break, regardless of how it turns out." He gestures to another sheet of parchment, encouraging them onward.

[Fine. One more time.]

They pick up another sheet, staring blankly at it for a moment. Hesitating. They already knew how to let their mana flow, but controlling it has been trial and error. Mostly, error. They want to keep learning about magic, but this is getting annoying.

... One more try, they repeat to themself.

Slowly, something begins to form on the page. It starts out faint, but over the next few seconds becomes darker- almost like ink is bleeding through the paper. It swirls before setting, taking the form of some unknown symbol.

Radinn peers over, and smiles warmly. "Well, there you go. Remember that feeling you've got there, and how you did that. I'll give you a few more of those squares so you can practice a bit, and then we can get started on more advanced subjects."

He hands Yumech a few more scraps of the same parchment, then moves to stand and stretch some. They have been at this for some time tonight.

"Now, go back hive to get some rest, alright?"

[ghost-proofbaby]

a simple life (e.m.)

summary: you try to clean your depression room while eddie's over, but he keeps distracting you.

warnings: none except mentions of a dirty room and panties. also... a lot of nicknames. womp womp. not edited.

pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader

wc: 1.4k+

a/n: just a little sweet something i wrote thinkin' about eddie while i took on the task of finally cleaning my depression room after a few months of putting it off. idk. this is boring. i'm sorry.

“Where did you even get this postcard?”

“Eddie.”

“Or what about this choker? Is that a bat? It’s a- oh my God, babe. Why don’t you ever wear this? This is hot.”

Originally, you had thought it was a good idea. Invite Eddie over, allow the body-doubling tactic to work its magic, and voila – you’d finally have the clean room you’d been talking about achieving for weeks now, within a few hours. 

“Baby,” you scold, trying to reach across the bed to snatch the necklace he’d found out of his hands. It proves to be difficult, a small pile of laundry you’d been folding hindering you. 

“Sweetheart,” he mimics right back, quick to hold the necklace out of your reach, as if you were anyone near from stealing it back from him. 

“I asked you to come over to help me, not distract me,” you sigh, crossing your arms and trying to look as pitiful as possible. When you’d first invited him over, you’d assured him that he needn’t lift a single finger. You didn’t want him here to help by aiding in throwing away any of the trash that had begun to litter your desk or taking any dirty plates to the kitchen. No, the intention had been him helping with his mere presence – quiet presence. He was supposed to be working on a new campaign for Hellfire, not being so damn nosey and going through the few items you’d tossed onto the bed from the floor, “I just recently bought that necklace, I haven’t had a chance to wear it.”

His eyes light up mischievously, a small grin tugging at his lips, “Why not wear it now, then? Perfect opportunity, yeah?” 

“I’m not fulfilling any slutty maid fantasies you have, Eddie.” 

“What if I say please?” 

You huff and decide to give up the fight about the necklace, returning back to the laundry before you. You were almost done. You were almost done after a full day of cleaning. If your adorably curious boyfriend would just stop picking at your belongings, you’d probably be able to finish within the hour. 

He stands from the small space on your bed he had made for himself, a nest of sorts that he had taken from simply curling up into for a ‘nap’ (which never happened’ to sitting up as he had just been as he clearly grew more bored with each passing moment. “Want some help with folding?” 

“You just want an excuse to get your grubby hands on my underwear,” you grumble, folding a shirt with slightly more vigor to emphasize your point.

You’re right, of course. The first article of clothing he grabs is a pair of lacy black panties. 

“Guilty,” he coos jokingly, but to your surprise, he actually folds the lingerie. Neatly, at that. With careful hands, he folds it even nicer than you would have in your haste, going as far as walking to your dresser and putting it away into the correct drawer. And then, he takes it a step further, and begins to put away the other clothing you’d already neatly wrapped up, suddenly depleting the mountain of laundry by half, “You know, I don’t mind helping you clean.”

“I already told you, you’re helping by bein-” you start to protest, hands grabbing at a random jean leg but not quite yanking it from the pile. 

He’s quick to interrupt you, taking that pair of jeans right from you, “I don’t want to just lay there while you do all the work, contrary to all the sources that say men enjoy that.”

His face isn’t quite as taunting as it had been moments before. Some of the joking has vanished, replaced by something more serious yet somehow softer. The jeans are slung over his arms, neatly halved twice before he sets them to the side and looks at you. 

Your shame is palpable, though. You’d just gotten over the embarrassment of having him over when your room would get this filthy. Disastrous in the worst of ways. Dirty clothes strewn everywhere, plates left for days on any surface you could find in your laziness, coke cans and random trash littering the floor. It was embarrassing. You know he had promised to love you through the good and the ugly, but this was far uglier than he could have ever imagined signing up for. 

It was bad enough to have him see it, let alone clean it. 

“It’s embarrassing,” you finally say quietly. His head tilts, so adorable it tugs at all your heart strings, and you take it as your queue to continue in a near whisper, “It’s gross - I’m gross.” 

“Sweetheart, have you even seen my room?” he scoffs. He’s quick to shove some of the clean clothes up into a pile just enough that he can take a seat at the corner of your bed, quickly reaching out to grab your hands and guide you between his spread legs, “Shit happens. Life gets stressful, work gets busy, sometimes we just don’t feel like cleaning up. Shit happens,” his thumb is sweeping soothingly over your knuckles, clearing the impending storm you hadn’t even been aware of. Maybe he hadn’t either – a naturally caring and comforting aura has always been his thing rather than yours, “Out of everyone in this world, I am the least qualified to judge you.” 

You don’t really understand it. How he can sit there, looking up at you so dreamily when the two of you are situated in the middle of your still unkempt room, your neck still chilled with a layer of sweat and your hair tumbling out of the bun you hadn’t properly secured. But he is. He’s looking at you not as if he doesn’t see the mess, both of the room and of yourself, but as if he does and simply doesn’t care. 

“Besides,” his lips are splitting with another grin, his hands squeezing your hands three times, “It’s kind of domestic. ‘M kind of into it.” 

“Me? Doing laundry?” you snort, blinking away any fears that had crept up. It’s hard to feel inadequate with his eyes on you, spilling so many sweet nothings like it’s just another casual Tuesday conversation and not the fuel to your beating heart, “Didn’t you just say you don’t want to just sit and-”

“Us,” he cuts you off in correction, “Us doing laundry.”

“You… like the thought of doing laundry with me?” you say slowly, carefully, unsure of the words as they fall from your lips. 

Doing laundry sounded like the least romantic thing the two of you could ever partake in. 

“I like the thought of doing laundry with you,” he repeats with a nod, “I like the thought of doing laundry with you, of doing dishes together after we just made the world's most mediocre dinner ever, of you complaining when I won’t get up so you can make the bed on the weekend,” he tugs you even closer. You have no choice but to let a knee fall to each side of his hips, straddling his lap as he wraps his arms around you and he leans forward to press a chaste kiss to one of your collar bones, “Call me cheesy. I like the thought of a simple life, but only if it’s with you.” 

Something warms inside of you. The thought of a life of simplicity, of lazy mornings and boring afternoons, all brightened up by the boy in front of you. A boy who creates magical worlds with his words on a weekly basis, a boy obsessed with fantasy novels and all things adventurous, who wants his greatest life adventure to just be a mundane lifetime with you. 

You can imagine it would be anything but mundane with Eddie, but the tranquility still exists and blankets the two of you. 

You lift a hand, carding it through his scalp, careful not to let your fingers snag on his messy curls, “Does this mean you’ll do your taxes with me next week?” 

With a quick snort, he buries his face into your chest, shaking his head furiously, “Don’t push it, sweetheart.” 

You know he will, though. He’ll help you fold the laundry, he’ll help you wash the dishes, and he’ll certainly sit through the dreadful hours of doing taxes if they’re spent with you. 

A few beats of silence. His arms have wrapped just right so that his warm palm presses into your lower back, the other hand tracing a mindless circle over your shirt a few inches higher. Your breathing matches his, fingers rubbing a matching pattern into his scalp that has him humming periodically.

The laundry will get done eventually, but it can wait. For now, you just want to hold your boy, and let him hold you. 

“It’s a date,” he finally gives in, voice muffled, making you smile widely, “I’ll light candles and everything, sweetheart.”

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

[cherrychilli]

18+

Eddie Munson x AFAB reader, established relationship, mentions of bodily injury and blood(not reader's), allusions to oral sex (f)

Let's just say that Eddie eats you out a little too well and suffers the consequences.

The bleeding's finally starting to stem you're relieved to notice, pulling back his bloodied bandana to peek at his swollen nose, all flushed red like crushed berries. Streaks of dry blood trail down to his chin in thin ribbons and you look at him sympathetically.

"I'm dellin' you bade, id loobs worse than id is", Eddie tries to assure you once more though you're not convinced because you can make out the beginnings of a black eye on his face too, a purple half moon starting to take shape below his left eye.

You'd apologized profusely when it happened, nearly brought to tears over how guilty you felt about the whole thing but all he did was grin proudly like he couldn't be happier about it, teeth stained pink with fresh blood.

"Bade"

"Yeah?"

"You're nod wearin' a bra"

You look down and realize he's right, your nipples hard and showing through your shirt because hospitals are such cold, sterile places. Now that you're looking at yourself you notice that your shirt's inside out too but of course he doesn't notice that detail because he's too busy staring at your tits.

"Oh. Yeah well, I kinda forgot in the rush to get here", you tell him, uncaring if anyone else notices because your priority right now is your boyfriend's wellbeing.

"No id's good. Helbs take my mind off the paib", he grinned again, raising his eyebrows at you suggestively.

Even with a broken nose and all that blood on his face and clothes he still manages to look handsome, still charming in that loveable dork kind of way that made you fall for him all those years ago, stirring something warm in your belly.

"Just let me do the talking, okay?", you stroke his cheek gently, placing a quick kiss there which makes his face turn pink in a way that's unrelated to his injury. You looked over the forms one of the nurses had handed you when you first came in, filling the blank spaces with Eddie's personal information.

Fell down the stairs. That's pretty believable, right? You continued to jot his details down, hoping the doctors and nurses will buy what you're selling because the last thing you wanted to divulge was that your boyfriend made you cum so hard while going down on you that you kicked him in the face on accident.

"Baaade"

"Eddie, don't talk you might start bleeding again"

"Jud one more ding", he nudges his shoulder against yours.

You look away from the paperwork then, catching a lilt to his tone that sounded serious. "What is it?", a tendril of worry winds up your spine. Had you concussed him? Oh shit, if he's got a concussion too then-

"Did you forbet your panties too?"

The tendril withers away unceremoniously.

"Eddie", you deadpanned. "This is not the damn time."

"Pleab jud answer the quedtion", he gives you the eyes, those wide, bottomless whiskey brown eyes and you crumble.

"Fine. I forgot, okay?", you duck your head and whisper in his ear. "You were bleeding so much- I just threw on whatever was closest."

He then eyes your skirt in that same way that got him in this situation in the first place, tongue swiping over his blood tinged bottom lip.

"Great becob I wad thinkin'. Round two in the van afder they patch me up?"

[atarathegreat]

I'm Naked Here. Ken Ryuguji

Draken had been busy for a while. Day after day after day it was like he always had something that he had to do. Visiting his friends, helping Mitsuya, and then there was that whole month that he was gone while Mikey was racing. Now that he was home he was still busy catching up on things that needed fixed around the house, helping Shinichiro at S.S Motors, looking over literally everything else but you.

You were pissed.

Even now he was out in the garage, looking over his own bike with the intent of going for a ride to make sure it was fully fixed. Kenny had been out there all day, covered in grease and sweat while only coming in for water and a small snack.

"Kenny?" You wandered in with a glass of water for him, "How's it coming along?"

"Not great," He grabbed the glass and took a quick sip, "a few things are still broken and I need to replace the seat. The damn leather has been ruined 'cause I can't get out here to take care of her."

There wasn't much you could do but stand next to him as he tinkered. You didn't know much about the motorcycle, much less on how to fix it. What you did know, however, was that Kenny was dense. Here you were, next to him and talking to him, naked as the day you were born.

"Do you think I could show you how to take care of the leather for when I'm gone?" He asked, reaching for a tool before going back to the bike, "Replacing the seat is going to be expensive and I can't keep doing it every time I get home."

"I'll try." You nodded.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

You continued to sit and talk to him, handing him tools and waiting for him to notice you. Usually he was very attentive, so this was a little funny to you. You couldn't help but laugh at the way he wasn't even looking at you.

"What's so- Holy shit..." Ken looked up after gods know how long. His dark eyes trailed all over your body, landing on your chest and hips and-

Kenny stood quickly and nearly slammed you into the work bench behind you, "Fuck...I really have been gone too long if I hadn't noticed this." He rubbed his developing hard on up against your leg, groaning at the feeling of it. "I hope your plan was to get fucked." Draken slipped from the pants he wore and rubbed his tip through your folds, "I'm not-I don't think I can be gentle."

The way you giggled shot straight to his cock, making his tip swell a little more. You knew he wouldn't be gentle, not with his physique and strength, but that didn't bother you. Something about the way he sounded when he had complete control over the situation drove not only him crazy, but you. He was an animalistic man, driven by pure need and primal instinct.

"The hell are you thinkin' anyway? Comin' out here in nothing but your skin?" Draken tapped your clit harshly to make you hiss, "We have neighbors. What if I had the door wide open?"

You shook your head at him, "You close the door at nine pm sharp."

"Smart girl thought ahead, hm? Thinks that makes it better?" Kenny whispered in your ear, fixing the way you were sat on the workbench. Comfortability was his main concern when he made you cream. Location was of little consequence when he could feel your muscles tightening around him in pure, pathetic need. Making you cry was his main goal half of the time, the other three percent was seeing how loud he could make you. "Just wanted my attention, didn't you, ya' little minx." Draken pulled your hair to expose your throat to him, "Reminds me of the ladies that raised me, y'know."

Calloused fingers squeezed your jaw, dark eyes bore into yours, "Think you could survive if I left you in the Red Light District, hm? Would this little cunt make it out without bruising?" His deep laugh made you wet, wetter than you had been, at least. "No, not my baby. You'd be destroyed."

Not that he minded. Hell, he'd never even actually leave you in the store, let alone a dangerous part of town. But those big pupils of yours excited him to no end.

"Tongue out." Kenny released your jaw to spit on your tongue and press his finger to it, "Good girl. Swallow." Having you obey him after coming out to the garage bare ass naked was throwing him through a million plans. Gods, the ways he could bend you fucking backwards for his pleasure and you'd take it... It made his cock throb painfully.

"Deep breath." He whispered in your ear. You'd no sooner breathed in when he stretched you, bottoming out with a light growl in your ear. "Fuck... Definitely too long if you're this tight. Fucking choking me, baby."

The workbench creaked its protest as Draken fucked into you. There would be faint bruising from his thighs hitting the tabletop, but that wasn't his concern. You're cries of pleasure and the way you were breaking through the skin on his arms had all his focus. "That's right. Fucking cling to me." His cock was hitting as deep as your body allowed, "Needy girl... All for me, yeah?"

"Kenny!"

"There ya' go. Scream for me." Draken grabbed your throat, "Let the neighbors hear us. Let 'em know you've got a needy little cunt."

"I said, let 'em know." His fingers tightened around your neck.

You held his wrist as he slammed into you, his tip feeling like it was moving your insides around, "Please, Kenny! Need you!"

Awful, squelching, wet noises drew his attention to where he was bullying you, "Fuck yeah, you do. I can hear her talkin' to me. Pretty little cock sleeve, ain't ya?" Draken moved you from the workbench, bending you over his bike seat. "Goddamn... So fuckin' good for me. Hold tight, baby, I ain't gonna be done with you anytime soon."

[ophelian-darling]

𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬.

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto and Kento Nanami - gn reader.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Their Obsession was too much to handle, and you find yourself growing impatient with their acts of dandling, till you had enough. 

TW : Implied Kidnapping, Physical and Verbal/psychological abuse, Blood & Injury.

enjoy ♡

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 :

Days passed like a vision through the glass, slow to come and quick to go, without even a faint image of them or a smallest fragment of memory, as if you were looking into someone else's life, not your own. The horizon blended now into Satoru's eyes- you were no longer able to see the real extension of a natural blue, instead looking through his irises, faux felt and fake friendly, non-stop and ad nauseam. a smile would paint itself across his features and a kind touch would cosset your hands, attempting to mimic a color of romance.

"Whatcha Thinkin' of, Babe?" He asked, a honeyed voice softening his words, already knowing what was in your head; wanting a sweet lie out of your tongue. You hated his voice- no, everything about him, from his stares, the contorts and shapes of his face and the many shades of his affection; one minute, sugar and honey drip off his tongue, in Hopes of aiming at the moon and winning your trust, the other all of his sweetness is poisoned and laced with venom, intentions of wounding your ego into submission. At times, to him, you were Valentine, Babe, Love and Dreamboat; just as you were the useless, pathetic, whiney and liar, depending on his mood.

The horror of him was his eyes, they were softly in a cruel way, no effort of smiling or laughter could coffin the rage and Mania you were too aware of. You were always on alert, counting your sins and thinking of ways to redeem yourself, mentioning Kissing back, twisting your lips with pink lies, thanking him for his gifts and wearing a gleeful expression on your face. 

"Aww Satoru! you spoil me, I don't know what would've happened to me if you weren't around!..." 

You felt maggots crawl under your skin, rushing forth to your brain while you struggled to keep your smile. The more the hours fly, the more your cover of ardor cracks. a thin string of bitterness lining from beneath your nail right into your heart, stitching more into a scornful crimson slowly. 

Just how dare he- take you against your will, fondle and caress you as if you were a mere housecat and call himself a saint for bothering to look after you, while you don't remember asking or consenting for any of his attention? During so many times, including the moment as of now, you'd imagine him bleeding, cascades of red contradicting his snow complexion, pieces of glass needling his eyes that you hated with all Satan's grudge to heaven. You are sure no single speck of a tear would warm your eyelid if he dies, it was what he deserved.

"You okay, Love? something is off with you" Concern painted his face, while his blues remained ever unsettling. 

Your mouth clinged into a straight tight line, no longer able to remember the supposed smile. a harsh retort died on the tip of your tongue, leaving the room to even a harsher, short-lived silence to stretch. 

His thumb traced on your cheek, before he stood up "I'm gonna make you a cup of coffee to lift you up a li'l, stay here while I'm in there" 

Of course you're staying here, where else would you go?! Moving an inch without seeing his face was less likely than seeing a green sky.

The string of your heart sewn itself thicker. As memories of him puppeteering you flashed unwelcomed, the scornful thread darned into a ferocious rag, veiling any sense of your heart, caging it with a hating aviary. You carried yourself up, heading to the kitchen absentmindedly, guided by the heavy feeling in your chest. He didn't tire himself to look around- not like you could do anything, wrapped around his digits to control. 

An unknown tune he hummed caroled the small kitchen, his hands moving around to prepare the mugs and the coffee, too immersed in his own realm of thought to discern your motives. 

If you ever got the chance to recount this exact moment, you would say that it happened so fast that your mind didn't settle on one image: did you shatter the mug on the top of his head or the back of his neck? You don't remember, yet the anamnesis of your muscles retained the surge of Adrenaline, a slow motion second of your hand grabbing the porcelain cup and breaking it on his skull. you do recall he said something- things. a series of slurs that were too filthy, every curse and insult in the scripture. 

The crimson rag was torn off from your heart, a delicious feeling of revenge drugging you in a lucid Catharsis. your fingers twitched, your body braced itself for whatever beating it was about to receive. Oddly enough, he continued groaning and grunting, holding his head in both his bloodied hands. 

Dark red seeped through his white locks, oozing down his neck, sullying his shirt and tinting his fingers and hands. For the first time, his strange blues held an emotion different from insanity, a glassy layer over them, just a tad bit up from his usually static stare. his eyelids wept with red as he stared at you for a moment, saying nothing, before heading -as it seems- to the bathroom, a trail of red spots on the floor marking your deed.

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 :

In your dreams, the sunrises and sunsets were sin crimson, dark as Abel's blood. You'd see Suguru and yourself, sitting on a shore, its sea so transparent, hued with the cinnabar rays casting from a cloudless sky. You often look forth into the puce red horizon and not to him, rarely ever locking eyes with his. One time, as you remember from a shattered vestige in your awakening, you rotate your head to the side to see him staring at you; a half erased smile contouring his lips, Black eyes mirroring the skyline that stretched to no end in sight. Twice or thrice, he'd say something, a trail of meaningless letters sliding down his composed voice. You don't retain on his words exactly, but your name was amongst them; during a glib talk of his, your name rolls down his tongue with his usual calmness, scripting your dreams as such almost always ever since you were tied to him.

"Something in your mind, Dear?" The calmness- you can hear the smile in his inquiry without looking at him, drumming through your skull in an image of him in your dreams. You looked up from your lap, noticing that he was stitching something up, the needle struggling to remain still in his fingers. Of course, he was anything short of a tailor as much as he was short of a lover, wanting to be something he can't be but insisting anyway like the stubborn cockroach he is. 

You rolled your tongue across your teeth, only to let out a muffled 'nothing' as a response. you were really trying hard to not hurl at him, he was getting on your nerves for just his existence.

He chuckled, digging the needle into a red fabric "Something is in your mind indeed. I don't know what it is and why you look so upset, but I promise I'll make you feel better" 

You'll only make me feel better by choking on a dagger, Suguru.  you wanted to say, yet being completely aware that it'll have consequences- ones you were needless for. The numbness on your face is constantly pricking its presence across your flesh, swells and mounds that remind you of his black eyes losing their serenity, metamorphosing into a brutal night dark. His hands slapped and punched as equally as they billed and cooed, and your skin has grown hateful of both.

He does not appear as a human at all. in a vast space of thinking, you would theorize that he was not much but a parasite that sucked life out of everything beautiful, including love. his version of amour was twisted, burying care under Control and killing fondness to revive fervor. Cords you couldn't see snaked around your heart and soul, burning as they got tighter, paralyzing you with apathy that was leisurely altered to a pale hue of resentment, until it fully discolored to a dim rage.

It creeped its way to your fingers. you could hear Satan's whisper, planting the vilest of ideas in your mind; at least you had the luxury of hiding your thoughts and making them behind an expression you can't feel now- you're becoming him, a hollow shell of one face and multiple voices, already sensing the stitches of a mask, a dull one that a death face left more lineaments to remember. you were blessed with emotions unlike him, there's no way you'll melt into Suguru. 

"Darling I have a surprise for you, look!" He announced cheerfully, bringing the piece of fabric he's been working on to your attention. 

He raised the Obi belt in his hands, proud of his handmade sewing. you scanned it carefully: the silk is red candy colored with few golden flowers orienting it, not much skill or talent radiating off of this mimicry of a cloth.

"I intended to offer you this as a birthday gift, but I preferred giving it to you now. maybe it'll cheer you up a little, you've been really quiet lately…" the damn calm smile decorated his face again, this time a drop of what sounded like concern is mixed with it.

You took the thing from his hand, acting like you're inspecting it but in fact holding a cackle. how in hell's seven circles he expected you to wear this?! If Suguru thought with that little sense he always prides himself of, he'd see that he wasted such a gorgeous material on such a failure of an accessory. 

"Do you like it? I hope so…" there's an octave in his voice translated as 'please tell me it's the best gift you ever received', too bad it's ugly to give him the pleasure of hearing a compliment. 

"I've been working on it for weeks. I had to choose between red or pink, deciding to pick the former because I thought it would look better on you… I'm nothing of a tailor, but I did my best" he rubbed his palms together, as if an imaginary balm coating them. he laughed a little "I gave myself a lot of needle pricks, but it was worth it-" 

"It's awful" 

You didn't have to look up to see his face.

"What?" He muttered, completely not seeing this coming. 

"It's terrible, I hate it" a joyful spark twinkled throughout your body as you said so. the smile that you tried so hard to repress curved itself on your lips. you felt you could add more fuel to the fire.

"The color is dull and this silk looks cheap, but that's not why it's ugly. I bet a child can sew an Obi belt better than you do. this thing should go back where it belongs, the trash." 

The silk wasn't cheap at all. you silently praised whoever produced it as the fabric resisted between your fingers. for a second, you considered just throwing the belt at his face, but you already teared it up a little, imagining that you were tearing Suguru apart between your fingers, the very same Suguru who was standing in front of you, ghostly pale and owl eyed, uttering not a word.

Red ribbons rippled through the small space between your hands and feet, forming a pile on the floor and resting in place. your heart clenched in excitement, a reaction that replaced the usual fear of him beating you senseless in such situations. you awaited for his hand to fly, for his voice to raise, but none came. 

His gaze froze. He apparently couldn't contain how his present ended up being nothing more than some piece of garbage that had to be disposed of. Suguru opened his mouth then closed it before turning his heels around and exiting the room. bringing back your eyes to the remains of the belt, it now jumped to you that there was something written on the back of it. 

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 :

It is agreed upon as a human truth, that Shackles do not necessarily form as chains- For it merely requires a key to be freed from. but in most absent minds, the understanding of captivity and freedom were abridged in crime and punishment or torture (always coming first as physical in most thoughts), yet there is a sort of abstract bindings; way more restraining than tangible ones and with no limit of their ability to fetter the prisoner regardless of how strong is their will to break free, or how far their access to the key goes. mind games have proven themselves to be more effective throughout history, even in the simplest circumstances. What is more, playing on the strings of sentiment: romanticization of bonds -no matter how abusive they were- such as parenthood, friendship or more formally formed ties; marriage. 

There is this magical thing about marriage : it is a golden cage, a caressing shackle perceived as a warm nest in a vision of a romance, colored as red and pink, planted as roses. a cuff that priests call matrimony, poets call union and goldsmiths call rings- you name it; it's still a menacle, whether spouses consented to it or not. 

Kento was the typical man with the ordinary ambitions of immersing in a job (best if it paid generously), owning what is enough and settling down. To him, marriage was the ultimate expression of love, more than a mere ring, a wedding or flowery vows.

"I do have for you a love so dear that I drink from what your lips touch, I breathe when your lungs exhale, I slumber on where your skin embraces the mattress; one of both life and death."

- Your adoring one.

Engraved in red, the words slided over your heart's veil, forgotten in a memory of a cold rib. Satan lured Adam with an apple, so how would sugary words find any trouble deceiving? 

"You're making me worried, Sweetheart…" sotto voce in the nature of a Dove's coo; disgustingly fondling. 

Of course, a silver tongue cuts sharp in the same way it pours coquetry. life with Kento was seeing a moon and its dark side. under the beam of light, his lips mulls everything on you; kisses on your lips, cheeks and forehead blossomed, full rainbow ray of flowers were gifted to you, mostly red, attached to them little cards and billets-doux that enveloped letters of dalliance, arranged together and too sweet to the point it sickens you. The irony of his dimness was that he's more tolerable when he gnashes his teeth; wounds at your skin and soul, scolds and punishes in a parental manner. even for days, you'd hear the beast howling in your ear, ringing through the corridors of your head and it hurts to think.

Your eyes reflected in his figure, kneeling in front of you, not meaning they were drinking in the sight of him.

His thumbs brushed across your palms "Can I see your smile again? you look beautiful when you smile, you already are no matter how your face appears" nothing stirred up in you, emptiness of a blind man's face swam through the void.

"Please… sweetheart.." your composure nearly broke; a laugh dwindled within your throat. Does he think that you were a sole toy?! there to be played with, clothed and stripped to the colors of his whims, put on a pedestal at dawn and degraded at dusk?! it gnaws now on the branches of your chest, melts in your heart and fills your brain with a spiteful flow. 

"I've got something nice, just for you, I'm sure it'll make you happy" with that, he left quickly and returned just as, something in the outlines of a large flower bouquet behind his back. no surprise, he had a proclivity for flowers; for how red are roses, for how fragrant was jasmine and for how innocent were lilies. 

"I love you Sweetheart, never forget that!" as expected, roses. a pink posy of them.

You took the bouquet from his hands, glaring at the flowers in a burning grudge. for a flash of a glint, Medusa's serpents coiled between your digits, circling wrists, their skin flaying with yours. a bottle of somber tears shattered, impuring your core with loathing never imagined to be stored in your soul. With the swiftness of a sword out of its sheath, your hand flew high, landing the thorny plants across his face, over and over again, no drop of fear in you. Kento succeeded in grabbing your hand- not the one attacking him, squeezing your wrist to make you yield, but to no avail. your blood rushed hot through your veins, carving your mind with screams of violence and to hurt him more, that is when your fists balled and your ankles rose up sharply.

"Stop!" 

You would never. your hands had their own mind, they scratched and punched and grabbed to your heart's content, avenging you after so long of a macabre suffering. your shackles started to unravel, each movement of yours freeing the hollowness outside you. short minutes stretched forth like long hours until you were done- or like you were over with him for now.

a blur on your vision subdued, the faint image clearing line by line. Kento was on the floor, leaning on a chair and balancing his weight on a knee, right hand shielding over his face. you couldn't see the damage well through his fingers till he got up, still holding his face in his hand, silently giving you his back and leaving you to your own devices. as he left, you noticed red across the sides of his hands and arms; few cuts and swells distorting the fabric of his pale skin. 

[archangeldyke-all]

Something with like cellmate prisoner!sevika?! 😭😭😭 idk I just think like her being all dangerous and powerful, having a shit ton of friends but like selectively, no one messing with her maybe even hating how just mean she is. And then comes in reader and yk. I’d love if the story was smutty but u can chose ofc 🫦

i love this so much

men and minors dni

living in zaun is shit. but the one thing that's always kept you and a majority of your fellow citizens in line, was the ever-looming presence of stillwater prison just a few miles away. you've watched countless people enter those prison walls. you know very few who ever came back out.

and now, through a series of unfortunate events that lead to you assaulting an undercover enforcer, you're going to find out first hand just how horrible stillwater really is.

you don't think you've ever been so nervous in your life as the enforcer guides you-- restrained and already hating the itchy fabric of your new life-long uniform--down a long, long hall of cells.

he's chewing a wad of bubblegum, casually, like you aren't about to piss yourself with nerves. "listen kid." he says, looking you up and down. "i read your file. seems like you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time." he says, shrugging. "no prior arrests, clean record-- honestly i'm surprised they sent you here, but i guess you did break marcus' nose." the enforcer chuckles here.

"you know that asshole?" you ask. the man guiding you snorts.

"'s my boss." he mumbles. beside you, a prisoner lunges at the bars of their cell, screaming at you. you jump, and the guard laughs. "as i was sayin'-- you seem like a real peach. like you'd be a good influence on some of our... rougher prisoners." he mumbles.

dread starts to curl in your stomach. you have a pretty good idea of where this conversation is headed, and you don't like the outcome. you just hope you aren't cellmates with someone real bad: like genie the counter-fitter who got caught two years ago; esmee the weapons expert who successfully set an entire square block of piltover's wealthiest neighborhood ablaze; or, god forbid, sevika.

she'd been caught just weeks ago, smuggling an entire airship's worth of shimmer into piltover's loading docks. it was big fucking news.

sevika's a big fucking deal.

and you want absolutely nothing to do with her.

which is why, of course, the guard pulls you to a stop right outside of the only cell with a light on, the low, dim glow of a reading lamp and the quick flickering light of a lighter. you feel like you're gonna barf.

sitting in the shadows of the cell, puffing on a hand-rolled cigarette, sits sevika, silco's second in command.

if he's the eye of zaun, she's the arm. he might be watching-- but she's doing. she's nothing but bad news; everything you've tried your best to avoid while living in the undercity.

well, look how well that turned out for you.

"sevika, meet your new cellmate." the enforcer calls out. a pair of silver eyes snap up from her book and lock on yours. you shiver.

"fucks' wrong with her?" she mumbles. you gulp.

"nervous, i'd assume. 's her first-offense." the guard says. he shoves you into the cell and you jump as the bars slam shut behind you. "you ladies have fun." he says, before turning and walking away, the smacks of his gum echoing behind him.

sevika inspects you from her chair.

"how'd you fuck up so bad you ended up in a cell with me from your first offense?" she asks, seemingly intrigued.

"punched an undercover enforcer." you whisper. sevika's eyebrow hitches up, a little amused.

"yeah?"

"think his name was marcus, or something." you mumble. she sputters.

"ha! really!?" she asks, a little smile growing on her face. you nod. she takes a drag off her cigarette, then points at the bunk beds. "i get bottom. don't go thinkin' 'cause we're cellmates it means you get to touch my shit. i got people outside pullin' big favors for met to get shit like this." she gestures to her cigarettes and lamp. you nod. "don't look so nervous. i won't bite unless you piss me off."

you try to stop shivering. you don't succeed. "s-sorry."

she studies you for a moment, her smile growing as she does. though she's no longer armed with shimmer, her arm's still in perfect working condition, five little daggers gently tapping on the table top as her eyes dart across you. "you from the lanes?" she asks. you nod. she snorts. "you know who i am?" she asks. you nod again. she chuckles, then stands. she approaches you, circling around you like you're prey, then chuckling and leaning back against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. "you scared'a me?" she asks.

"shouldn't i be?" you choke out.

it seems to be the right answer. sevika laughs, then sits back down at her table, picking her book back up, chuckling intermittently for minutes after.

she's not a bad roommate. she's surprisingly tidy, always quiet, her nose usually buried in a book. she smokes like a fucking chimney, and you've come to find she gets her tobacco-- and sometimes a bit of weed-- from one of the guards every tuesday night.

she's got special privileges among most of the guards. they're always sneaking her books and flasks, letting her get away without cell-searches, letting her read past lights out and have lighters and screwdrivers and other dangerous, weapon-like tools.

you, on the other hand, do not have these privileges. and, keeping in line with sevika's one and only rule, you don't touch her shit. all of this means that while sevika smokes and works on her arm and reads and works out, you spend your time just... sitting on the top bunk. watching her.

sometimes, during open cell time, she gets visitors. you're surprised that none of these visits end in shady dealings-- sevika doesn't seem to need to trade her stash of goods for anything. most of her visits are quick, and most end the same way: a small scrap of paper being shoved in sevika's hand.

she burns the scraps after she reads whatever's on them.

she's... pleasant, sometimes. it's rare, but it happens. one day, you'd forgotten to make your bed before you went to breakfast. you returned to find it neatly made, and when you thanked her for helping you avoid trouble with the guards, she had just waved it off. "don' get used to it. i won't always be here to fix your mistakes."

once, a fight broke out while you were in the showers. you were sent back to your cell soaking wet-- your hair still lathered in shampoo. she had chuckled, called you a "wet rat", and helped you rinse your hair out in the tiny sink in your cell.

and... she's kinda pretty. it occurred to you one evening while the two of you were partaking in your nightly routine: sevika reading in her chair while you study her, pretending to sleep. she'd glanced up at you and whispered. "why're you always lookin' at me?"

you shrugged, then nearly choked on your tongue when 'you're pretty' almost slipped out of your mouth. "uh... i got nothing else to look at." you'd ended up saying. she seemed to accept this.

"you don't have any prison girlfriends?" you ask. sevika's in a particularly jovial mood today: the note she'd been delivered earlier in the afternoon must've had great news. she's decided to share her joint with you. the question slipped out the second you took your first puff-- your tolerance astronomically low from being without for so long.

sevika laughs. "nah."

"but..." you cut yourself off before you get yourself in trouble, biting your lip. sevika chuckles, then nudges your leg.

"y' can say it." she says. you smile at her, then speak.

"it's just... i had a few friends who work at babette's." you say. "i figured you'd have as much of a reputation here as you do there."

she takes a second, tilting her neck side to side as it cracks, then sighing. "i got shit to do in here." she says simply. you raise an eyebrow at her, biting your lip again, and she chuckles. "say it." she demands again.

"you just read all day." you laugh. sevika nods.

"i'm... working." she says. you just nod along, pretending you understand what she's alluding to.

it happens in the strangest way but you and sevika start to become... friends.

she sits alone at lunch, and you sit alone too, on the oppisite side of the cafeteria. but you're so used to looking at sevika, that you find yourself watching her even when there are much more entertaining things to look at, like the handful of fights that break out every meal.

you notice she loves the jello cups you guys get once a week. so you pocket yours and toss it at her later that night. the way she smiles lights up the room even brighter than her tiny lamp. you make it a habit.

she starts loaning you her books, finds you a crate to sit on by her table while you guys read together at night.

and when sevika gets jumped in the middle of the night-- you don't even question it before you jump out of your bunk, grab sevika's screwdriver where she left it on the table, and start swinging in the dark, blindly.

"what the fuck?" someone squawks when you manage to stab something in the dark.

"what?" sevika whispers in the dark.

"sevika, your bunkmate fucking stabbed me!" her attacker's voice rings out.

a light flicks on. you cringe at the sudden brightness, then blink in confusion as sevika and a guard with a screwdriver sticking out of their shoulder stare at you.

sevika's grinning. the guard is scowling. you hold your hands up in shaky fists, preparing for a fight. sevika chuckles.

"relax, sweetheart." she says, swinging her arm around you and tugging you into her side. "ran's a friend." she whispers into your ear. you blink at the bleeding guard, then back at sevika.

"so, what, we're taking your girlfriend with us now?" the guard-- ran-- asks. sevika looks at her friend, then looks at you, a calculating look in her eye. she smirks, shrugs, then looks back at the guard.

"she threw herself between me and a uniform-- can't just throw that kinda loyalty out, now can i?" she asks, smiling.

you don't know what's happening. you're about to ask-- when suddenly you black out.

the first thing that comes back to you is your sense of hearing.

voices.

"sevika, fuck, you can't just throw a wrench in the plan like this--"

"i can do whatever the fuck i want--"

"on the night of the breakout?! no heads up!?"

"do i need to remind you which one of us is second in command, here?!"

"...fuck. c'mon, help me load her in the van."

the next thing is your sense of touch. you're laying on the rumbling cold steel of a van floor-- currently in motion.

you're shivering, but then something warm and wool and smelling like cigars is draped over you.

you're head keeps bumping uncomfortably with every crack in the road. someone gently picks your head up and puts it in their warm nap, a hand coming down to scratch your scalp.

your voice comes next. "mmmh?"

"it's okay." sevika's voice comes. you groan, cracking your eyes open, only for her face to be grinning down at you. "fuckin' maniac." she giggles.

"wha?" you groan. you're seeing double, your head is pounding.

"ran knocked you out. 's what you get for stabbin' 'em." sevika chuckles. "but, you're lucky, 'cause they don't hold a grudge. they helped me lug your ass outta stillwater."

"wha?!" you ask again, snapping up. sevika laughs as you look out the front window of the van-- the depths of piltover surrounding you as you head, presumebly, to the last drop.

you recognize the man driving-- a tall, muscular, tattooed man who'd recently been added to your cell block's guard rotation. in the passengers' seat sits the guard you'd stabbed-- bandaged and watching you with amusement.

"wha's happenin'?" you mumble, looking back at your cellmate as you clutch a hand to your throbbing head. you've been shrouded in a red cloak-- sevika's already out of her prison uniform and back in her 'second in command' look. she smirks at you.

"y' really think i was jus' sittin' around, servin' my time?" she asks. you shrug.

"figured somethin' was goin' on. y' kept gettin' those notes. didn't wanna ask." you groan. sevika chuckles.

"well, you shoulda. or i shoulda warned you, so you didn't try killing my crew." she chuckles. you blink over to the person in the passengers' seat, cringing.

"s-sorry." you mumble. they wave it off.

"'s cool. knocked you right the fuck out, didn't i?" they chuckle. "we're even."

you turn back to sevika. "you broke me out of prison?" you ask. she shrugs.

"'re you mad about it?" she asks. you gawk at her.

"uh... just... a little surprised?"

sevika cackles. you smile at the sound, despite your headache. "i wasn't plannin' on it! then you started givin' me your jello, 'n readin' all my books, 'n..."

"she's got a crush on you." ran fills in from the front.

"i didn't say that!" she shouts.

"she's not denying it though--" the man driving teases.

you choke on your spit. sevika huffs, rolls her eyes, and speaks. "i... i kinda got a crush on you, yeah." she mumbles. "and i swear i'm not sayin' this jus' 'cause i think you're cute but: you should really stay with us at the last drop until things calm back down, since, y'know... you're kinda wanted now..." she says, rubbing the back of her neck.

you blink... shocked.

you don't really know what to think. you tried your whole life to stay out of trouble, and it managed to find you anyways in the form of a drunken under-cover enforcer deciding to smack your ass when you'd had too many drinks to hold your punches. you tried to stay out of trouble in stillwater until you were saddled with sevika. you tried to stay out of trouble with her until she dragged you-- literally, you were unconscious!-- out of prison along with her. it seems like trouble's meant for you.

but if there's one thing you're certain of, it's sevika.

you smile at her, then reach up to cup her cheek. she looks more nervous than you've seen her in all your months in stillwater together.

"you gotta crush on me?" you ask. she gulps.

"i'd say it's a little more than a crush seeing she broke you outta stillwater as your first date--"

"ran!" sevika hollers. you chuckle.

"is this our first date?" you ask, raising your eyebrow at her. she shrugs.

"it's... jus' don't expect the next dates to be this exciting." she chuckles, rolling her eyes. you grin, then dart forward and press a kiss to her lips. when you pull away, she's wearing that same nervous look again.

"you okay?" you whisper. she licks her lips, nuzzles a bit against your hand on her face, and nods.

"'m just kickin' myself for not puttin' the moves on you sooner. coulda been fuckin' you to pass the time in prison instead of readin' all those boring books." she mumbles. you burst into laughter, and she grins.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub

[lucysgraybird]

Erm i js read ur pregnancy fic, is it possible for u to write an alternative version yk a happy one ??? 😭 it was rlly good tho but that hurttt

YES babe ofc im so sorry 🙏 i saw angst and it got away from me. sorry for losing my head. here is an alternate ending to this fic

warnings: labour/childbirth, blood mention, deeply unrealistic (should've put this on the other one too! i am an 18 year old virgin i know where babies come from and that's it)

The night the baby comes is dark and peaceful: there hasn't been more than a soft fall of rain in weeks, and the spring has brought balmy evenings that have made chores almost a gift to do.

Even more of a blessing is the time after chores, curled up on the porch under Billy’s arm. He's twisting the ends of your hair around his fingers absently, and you twist to look up at his face.

“What's on your mind, honey?”

“Hm?”

“I can hear your thoughts from here, Billy. Are you worrying about something?”

He tucks his chin over your head and you hum contentedly at being wrapped up in him, safe and warm.

“Just thinkin’ about the baby is all,” he says. “What we're gonna name her and that stuff.”

You laugh. “I bet it'll come to us in the moment. We don't even know if the baby’s a girl.”

“I do.” He slides his arm off your shoulder to your waist, placing his hand flat against your rounded belly. “Gonna be the best little girl, and she's gonna look just like her mama.”

"Mm...with your eyes, if we're lucky."

You crane your neck to peck Billy on the lips, coaxing a smile from your husband. Out of nowhere, a cramp twists through your lower back and you cover Billy’s hand with yours, wincing. He shifts you off his chest slightly to look at you.

“You okay?”

The pain passes and you can breathe again – it's not something you've felt before, but you know things get weirder the bigger the baby gets.

“Fine, yeah. I think she was moving around or something.”

Billy gives your stomach a firm look, which coaxes a laugh out of you and chases away your nerves.

“‘s not the baby’s fault, honey,” you say. “She's just getting comfy.”

“You're sure you're alright?” He confirms. “I can ride into town and-”

“I'm good. You don't need to worry, okay?”

He nods and pulls you back against him, his body a shelter from any worries.

As the night creeps on, there are a few more cramps but nothing notable, and you're able to fall asleep almost immediately when the time comes.

That is, until the middle of the night, when you wake up with your entire core on fire.

“Billy,” you whimper, grabbing for his arm.

He groans, still mostly asleep.

“The baby’s coming, Billy, you gotta-” You pause, a bolt of pain too great to speak through wracking your body for a moment. “You gotta go get the doctor.”

That wakes him immediately, and he's rolling out of bed before his eyes are even completely open. He takes in your face, screwed tight and shiny with sweat, and he's trying to get ready and comfort you at the same time.

“It's okay, darlin’, you're gonna be okay,” he says, not even bothering to take off his pajamas before tugging his work clothes over them and shoving his feet into his boots. “I’m gonna get the midwife and she'll take care of you.”

For all his confident words, his voice trembles and breaks at the end of his sentence from seeing you in this much hurt, which sends tears spilling down your cheeks. Billy scrambles for the door, then back to you to press a kiss to your forehead and a hand to your cheek.

“Gonna be fine, darlin'. I'll be back as quick as I can.”

You don't even have time to reply before he's out the door and gone.

The pain only increases while he's gone, time going hazy and strange. You can't figure out how long ago Billy left, or how long it should be until he's back – you can't really think of much besides the ache throbbing from your pelvis to your chest. Noises that don't sound like your own are tearing themselves from your throat as you writhe in bed, trying to find anything that'll ease the pain.

Soon (or maybe not soon at all, you can't say), Billy is bursting back into your room, the midwife hot on his tail. She takes one look at you and turns to Billy.

“I need boiling water and strips of cloth.”

Billy nods wordlessly and disappears out to the kitchen. You didn't realize how desperate you were for him until he was gone, and a new bout of sobs streak down your face.

“Oh, lovey,” the midwife says as she strips back your covers. “Your boy will be back soon, he's just helping me keep you safe while you're in labour. Can you tell me how far you are along?”

She tugs your nightgown up around your hips, and you're in too much pain to feel any shame.

“Baby’s right on time,” you groan. “Just about nine months.”

Your body bows forward with another stab just as Billy walks through the door with a steaming pot of water and strips of a clean sheet, and he nearly drops everything in his haste to get to you. Once he's sure that the midwife has what she needs, he's settling next to you, offering a hand to squeeze and a shoulder to lean on.

“You may want to step out, Mr. Bonney, this-”

“I'm stayin’,” he says, surely putting on a brave face when you grip his hand like a vice. To you, he soothes, “Hold on as hard as you need, darlin’, you're not gonna hurt me.”

“Okay then,” the midwife says. “Get ready to push, lovey, this baby is just about to come out.”

You don't even have to think when the time comes, a baser instinct taking over for you. It hurts like nothing has before and a wail chokes out of your mouth. Billy is still holding you, whispering sweet nothings that you can't quite hear against your temple. His lips are dry on the skin there, and it's grounding in the sea of sticky and hot that you're swimming in.

Suddenly, the pressure in your pelvis changes, but the pain doesn't. Everything is so wet. What is that?

“I'm going to insist you step back now, Mr. Bonney,” the midwife says.

You look up at your husband, whose skin is ash-white against his dark hair.

“Billy…?”

"You're okay, darlin', I'm just gonna let the midwife take care of you." His voice is shaking in a way that makes you nauseated, and the world is swimming around you on top of that.

He goes to step away, just as the midwife requested, and heartbreak rips across his face when you reach out for him. Then there's another gush of wetness and a dizzying wash of pain: the last thing you see before you pass out is the form of a baby in Billy’s arms and the most genuine fear you've ever seen on his face.

When you wake, it's just Billy in the room, cradling a bundle of blankets in a chair he's dragged to the bedside. He's up as soon as you wake, trying to smooth a hand over your head and hold the baby properly at the same time.

“Hey, darlin’, how are you feeling?”

You try to sit up and immediately throw in the towel, groaning. “Tired. And sore. Is the baby okay? What happened?”

“Baby’s just fine,” he says, tilting the bundle to show you a wrinkled, sleeping little face. “The midwife says she's the healthiest baby she's seen in a while.”

A soft smile blooms on your face. There's a relief warming you from the inside-out that you've never felt before.

“You were right about the baby being a girl, then.”

“Mhm.” There's a teasing pride in his hum, and you use a little of your waning energy to nudge his shoulder with your head. “I haven't thought of a name yet, though.”

“Can I hold her?”

Billy hands her to you wordlessly, helping you settle your arms around her.

“She's so small.”

“And she's already caused a lot of trouble for her mama,” Billy says.

He's joking, but when you look up at him, there are tears in his eyes.

“Honey, are you-”

“I'm okay, I'm okay. It was just a lot of blood, and I didn't know what was goin’ on. I thought you…”

The sentence ends there, but you know where he was going, and you lean into him.

“Can't get rid of me that easy, cowboy. We got a little girl to raise.”

The baby stirs a little in your arms, then settles back into a deep sleep. You watch her thoughtfully.

“Billy,” you say.

“Yes, darlin’?”

“How would you feel about naming her Kathleen? After your mother?”

There's dead silence for a moment before Billy presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“I think that's perfect,” he whispers, not trusting his voice to go any louder without breaking. “If that's what you want.”

“It is. Welcome to the world, Kathleen Bonney,” you say, and Billy wraps an arm around you. It is a perfect tableau: mother, father, and baby, and all the love there is in the world.

[sissylittlefeather]

I Can Help

A/N: A one-shot. I wanted to write some smut and this just came pouring out of me. This is hastily written and not proofread so I'm sorryyyyy. It was just for fun!

Big thanks to @ccab for always loving my writing even before you read it!

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, this is pure smut, kissing, cussing, fingering, p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Word count: 1.4K (just a little sexy thing)

As the hot water fills the bathtub, you take a deep breath. Your husband has been rehearsing late into the night for weeks now. You're getting a little tired of putting yourself to bed, but you guess that's the price you pay for being married to Elvis Presley. Still, you miss him a lot, especially at night. Sure, you stayed up for a quick romp several times over the past few weeks, but you're both always so tired that it feels rushed and you wish you could just find some time to be the two of you again. You've always prided yourself on your ability to keep him satisfied. You really hope that these late rehearsals don't mean you've lost your touch.

Once the tub is full, you take off your robe and slip into the hot water. It feels good on your skin and you're thankful that Elvis made sure to have a nice big bathtub installed for you in the Vegas suite. You lay there for a while just soaking in the sensation, enjoying the candles you lit before you got in.

But you can't stop thinking about him. He looked so good when he left earlier in his multicolored silk shirt and striped pants. You tried to steal a few kisses before he headed out, and he indulged you for as long as he could before he absolutely had to go, assuring you that he would see you as soon as possible.

You don't even really notice that your hand gravitates toward your center. Your mind is still on him in that damn silk shirt when you start to rub slow circles on your clit. A soft moan escapes your lips as your fingers pick up speed. You slide your other hand in between your legs and slip two fingers into yourself. You pump them in and out as you continue to rub your clit.

"Mmm... Elvis..." You moan again as you touch yourself. You're so engrossed in what you're doing, so focused on your delicious husband and the things you're imagining him doing, that you don't even notice when he walks into the room and leans against the doorframe, watching you.

A wide smile spreads across his face, accentuating his apple cheeks, when he realizes what you're up to. He stands there silently, taking you in as you pleasure yourself. It's not until you come and moan loudly that he says anything.

"Ohhh, Elvis..."

"Yes, baby?"

"OH FUCK." You pull your hands away from yourself as quickly as possible and try to seem as nonchalant as you can, even though you're sweating and breathing heavily from your orgasm. Your cheeks turn bright red when you realize he's there.

"H-how long have you been standing there?!"

"Long enough, doll." He smirks at you and licks his lips. You sink into the water and try to hide behind your hands.

"Oh my god." You're not sure you've ever been this embarrassed before. Despite the fact that you're married, he's never seen you do this before and something about it feels particularly dirty.

"Honey, it's okay. I'm not complainin'. At least I know you were thinkin' about me." He walks to you and sits on the side of the tub.

"I'm so embarrassed." You still can't look into his eyes. He leans down and tips your chin up so that you have to look at him.

"You don't need to be." He looks at you with so much love and affection that you can't help but trust him. You nod and for the first time it dawns on you that he's home early.

"You're here."

"I am. I missed you."

"I missed you too."

"Clearly." You roll your eyes and he laughs his big-joy laugh. When he stops laughing his eyes meet yours with something else in them. "You want some help?"

"Help?"

He rolls his sleeve up, dips his hand under the water, and touches you, massaging your clit gently. You arch your back and moan softly. He slides two fingers inside you and uses his palm to continue rubbing your clit.

"Come on, baby. I know you can come more than once." You blush again, but what he's doing with his hand distracts you. You feel the blood rush to your core and you know you won't last much longer. He reaches over and teases your nipples with his other hand as he finger-fucks you. Your chest is heaving as your orgasm gets closer and closer. You'll never get over how he can bring you to a climax with just one hand.

"Ah, ah, Elvis, yes!" You moan loudly as you come on his hand. He smiles as your walls pulse and throb around his fingers. He pulls his hand away and stands up, removing his silk shirt, boots, belt, and pants in that order. Sinking into the tub across from you, he puts his hands under your arms and drags you into his lap.

"My turn, honey." You nod and straddle his lap, pushing his cock into you as you drop slowly into his lap. He groans and leans his head back against the wall. "Yes, that's my good girl."

You roll your hips on him, the water brushing against your already-sensitive clit as you fuck him. You've never done it in the water like this before and the sensation is overwhelmingly pleasurable. He starts with both hands on your hips guiding your movements, but he moves them to cup your breasts as you continue to ride him. His hands move around to your back and they're big enough to cover all of you as he pulls you close to him and kisses your neck and chest.

"This is what I needed." You moan as you grind on him.

"I know, baby. Why do you think I'm here?" You lean in and kiss him fully on the mouth.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, honey." The whole time, you're fucking him deeply. "Goddamn, I missed this."

He reaches up and puts a stray chunk of hair behind your ear and kisses you gently.

"I wanna fuck you harder. Let's get out." He pats your bottom to indicate that you should get up. You do and he follows you, rock hard cock bouncing with every movement. He dries himself and you quickly with a plush black towel and then scoops you into his arms to carry you into the bedroom. When you get there, he half-tosses you onto the bed and crawls on top of you.

"You want me to fuck you, baby?"

"Yes, God, yes!" He lines himself up with you and pushes into you fully. You moan loudly together and he picks up a steady rhythm of pounding into you. In the bathtub your pace was gentle but now he's making up for all the nights when he couldn't drive into you like he wanted to. He slams his hips into yours passionately, watching your breasts bounce with each thrust. You're both moving fast into an orgasm and yours hits you like a freight train just as he pounds into you deeply.

"Yes! Y/n, yes baby, fuck!" You feel his warmth spill into you and you shudder and pulse around him as he comes. He kisses your shoulder and your lips and then rolls off of you sweating and breathing heavily.

"Goddamn, honey, I missed you so much."

"I missed you too." You roll over and lay your hand on his chest. He grabs it and kisses your fingers.

"Obviously..." You pull your hand back to cover your face and he laughs again.

"Baby, please. You really don't need to be embarrassed. I did it last night after you went to sleep." You uncover your face and sit up a bit.

"You did?!"

"You really think I needed a shower at 3am?"

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"You were sleeping so good. I didn't want to bother you."

"Please, bother me next time." He smiles and kisses your fingers again.

"I'm just sayin'. You shouldn't be embarrassed. But next time I'll wake you up. Save both of our hands some trouble." This time you laugh with him.

"I love you so damn much."

"I love you too, doll. I promise not to neglect you again."

"I can't promise I won't spend some time in the bathtub again."

"I should hope not. You've given me a whole new scene to replay when I'm in the shower." You shove him gently and he laughs again and pulls you close.

This was exactly what you needed. Thank God he decided to come home early. Even if he did happen to catch you...

******

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @ashtag6887 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69

Want to be added to my permanent tag list? Let me know!

[nolita-fairytale]

comfort & chaos | carmy berzatto x fem!reader | chapter six: home

summary: takes place after 'make my heart surrender' ends (so if you haven't read the series, you can do so here). after surprising carmy at the restaurant, he has something really important to tell you. (the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you)

warnings: time jump, fluff, 'i love you', smut (18+ mdni), no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, drinking & smoking, suggestive language, not proofread -- will probably go back and make some edits

word count: 3.9k

listen to: no such thing - john mayer | you're the best - wet | pancakes for dinner - lizzy mcalpine | want want - maggie rogers

a/n: hi it's me! i'm tired of breaking my own heart are you tired of me breaking your hearts?!! if you're wondering what the heck happened between chapter 5 & 6, make sure to read 'make my heart surrender' or at least, this final chapter!

didn't think you were getting smut with this final chapter?! gotcha!! i had to take some DEEP breaths while writing this. thank you so much for all of the kind comments, external screaming, and dms about this series. i love you all sm. here's is thee much needed and well-deserved fluffy chapter where carmy finally says (redacted).

read: chapter five | masterlist

“God I fuckin’ love you.” 

Your words echo in Carmy’s head all shift, and he doesn’t know why he hasn’t said it back yet. 

The restaurant has been slow for lunch, and in every single moment he’s had to think about it, the words felt like they were on the tip of his tongue:

I love you. 

I love you too. 

I love you and I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. 

But what was he supposed to do? Tell you in the middle of your mise en place? Follow you into the walk-in and tell you there? He almost regrets not just saying it back right then and there – the minute he realized that you and Richie were both pulling a prank on him. Carmy decides that telling you here, at the restaurant just won’t do – just wouldn’t be romantic enough – and he knows you deserve more than that. 

As you finish up your prep for dinner service, you eye Carmy carefully. He looks totally wrapped up in thought, and you can’t imagine what he must be thinking this hard about. You’re here. You can’t believe you’re here. And you could care less about anything else right now.

“How ya doin?” you ask him, pulling him from his thoughts. 

He doesn’t know if you can see it on his face – that he’s thinking way too hard about this. 

“Uh, I’m-. Just thinkin’ about strategy… for dinner service,” he lies, trying his best to throw you off his trail. 

“Okay,” you reply, unconvinced. 

But it’s clear that he’s not going to give you much more than that.  

“You should go home,” he blurts out. His response takes you by surprise, and as soon as he realizes it sounds like he doesn’t want you here, his face softens, quick to course correct. 

“I just mean-, you must be tired. From the drive. As much as I appreciate the help…” he trails off. “It’s been slow today anyways. You should take my key and head home. If you want. Get some rest.”

Home. 

You smile in response at the sound of it, knowing that, after today, Chicago is your home. 

“You sure?” you ask him. 

“Yeah,” he insists. “If it stays this slow, I may even be able to get home early.”

You’re sure you have the silliest grin on your face as you hear the word again. 

Because this is your home now. 

Because Carmy is your home now too. 

“Well, if you insist,” you say with a shrug. 

“I do,” he says back, a seriousness in his voice. 

“Okay,” you giggle in response, agreeing to his demand. 

Carmy’s always trying to take care of you. It’s one of the things you love the most about him. Whether he’s asking you if he can make you something or asking to walk you home, you’ve always known that this is how he shows his love. 

You and Carmy both wash your hands, and he follows you towards the locker area, watching you hang up your apron in the locker that will now be yours. He busies himself with finding his apartment keys while you gather your things. 

“I kinda missed this place,” you say, even though you’ve only been gone three weeks. 

“Yeah?” he asks, a light in his eyes as he watches you. 

It feels surreal: seeing you here, knowing that you’ll be at his place when he gets back, that he gets to keep you. 

“Yeah. And maybe even some of the people too,” you smirk, cheekily. 

Carmy blushes, taking a few steps towards you with his keys in hand. 

“Need the address?” he asks. 

“I remember how to get back there,” you reassure him, playfully. 

It hadn’t been that long since you walked home with Carmy the night that changed it all: the night he’d made you his carbonara, the night that feelings were revealed, the night you made love. You’d followed him back to his apartment two nights in a row after that, letting yourself surrender to this thing between you that you’d both spent over two years fighting. And you’d let him take you to bed each night, getting lost in the way he smelled, the way he tasted, the way his skin felt against yours. 

You’re still in shock over how much has changed in your life in the last month alone.

It felt like heaven. 

It feels like heaven. 

And you wonder what took you both so fucking long.

At the same time, you know it happened exactly when it was supposed to happen – that anything before this wouldn’t have worked. 

As Carmy hands you his keys, you give him a goodbye kiss, the tension between the two of you palpable. It’s the kind of ‘I can’t wait to get you alone’ tension and you can’t wait till he gets off his shift – your thoughts filled with all the things you want to do with him when you finally do. 

It takes a while to leave the restaurant – everyone wanting to get in their hello or goodbye in – before you’re on your way home to Carmy’s apartment. On the drive there, you laugh to yourself about how the staff of The Bear have been betting on how long it’d take for you to come back. It fills you with a sense of warmth, confirming that this was exactly the move you needed to make. Since it’s close by, and you still have your stupid fucking U-HAUL, it doesn’t take long to get back to Carmy’s apartment. You make a mental note to find a good storage container to rent out so you don’t have to lug this thing around while you look for a place. 

By the time you get into his apartment, suitcase in hand, it’s clear to you that Carmy wasn’t expecting you. His home is messier than you remember it being when you left three weeks ago, but it’s not so intolerable that it’s maddening. 

You put something on the TV in the background, while you unwind, taking a shower then tidying up a little bit around the apartment. You let yourself enjoy the simplest of pleasures: your favorite pair of sweatpants that you can’t believe he’s kept, and a comfy bralette you’ve packed at the top of your suitcase. 

But it all starts to hit you as you start slowing down: after spending the night in Cleveland, you’d driven all morning to Chicago, jumped in on the line for dinner prep. You’ve barely had a moment to slow down and holy shit, are you exhausted. It doesn’t take more than a few episodes of Pasta Grannies for you to pass out on the couch. Carmy’s YouTube playback is set to autoplay, and as your eyelids become progressively heavier, you promise yourself you’re just going to close your eyes for a few moments… 

“Hi sweetheart,” you hear a voice say, causing you to slowly blink your eyes open. 

“Carm?” you mumble, only half awake. “Is it you? You’re really here?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Did I wake you?” he whispers, letting out a small laugh. 

You giggle as Carmy comes into your line of sight. He’s perched on the edge of the couch as you reach for one of his hands so that you can touch him. 

“Yeah, but I’m glad you did. What time is it?” you ask, becoming more and more awake by the minute. 

“Ten-thirty. Business picked up a ton for dinner.”

“Damn.”

“So much for getting off early.” 

You hum in response, sitting up momentarily to grab his hands, pulling him towards. Carmy smiles, laying his body over yours, before leaning in for the softest, gentlest kiss. 

“Hi,” you whisper.

“Hi,” he smiles back at you, the words just on the tip of his tongue. 

I love you too.

You pull him back in for another kiss, this time deepening it. You laugh again, as Carmy breaks the kiss, an inquisitive look plastered to his face. 

“What?” he questions. 

“Nothing. You smell like hot giardiniera,” you giggle as your lips twist into a smile against his. 

He laughs, “Yeah?’

“Uh huh,” you say. 

“I’ll shower,” he suggests, playfully. 

“No, no it’s okay. I’m kinda into it,” you reply, earning another chuckle from him. 

“It’s okay,” Carmy replies, shaking his head. He places a peck on your lips before sitting up properly, earning a groan from you as he pulls away. “I’m gonna hop in the shower. Maybe we can move this to uh… my bedroom?”

“Are you putting the moves on me, Berzatto?” you tease him, shooting him a playful look.

“No! I just meant-, since I know you must be tired-,” he stammers, a blush running across your cheeks. 

You shake your head, sitting up to reassure him with another kiss. 

“I’m kidding,” you say with a chuckle. “And I’m also starving. 

“Yeah?” he sounds. 

“How about this? Why don’t you jump in the shower and I’ll order us a pizza. I’m sure we can find something to do while we wait for it to get here,” you say suggestively. 

Oh. 

“Sounds great,” he agrees with a quick raise of his eyebrows. 

You watch as Carmy disappears into the bathroom, the sound of running water filling your ears, you scroll around a little for a good pizza spot nearby. You settle on something New York style out of habit, ordering a few things for delivery. 

By the time Carmy gets out of the shower, you’ve curled up with yourself in his bed, scrolling around on your favorite social media app. You let out a whistle as soon as Carmy enters the room with only a towel tied around his waist. You can tell he’s tried his best to dry his hair, running the towel through his perfect curls a few times. You’ve got all this pent up sexual energy, and seeing Carmy like this, all hot, nearly-naked, and wet is really doing it for you. 

Hell, he could be in a full hazmat suit and the man would do it for you. 

You watch as he rummages through his dresser, searching for a t-shirt and a pair of briefs, but there’s no fucking way you’re letting him get dressed. You toss your phone to the side, standing up from where you are on the bed.

As you approach, you snake your arms around his waist, stopping him in his tracks. He cannot believe this is real: that you’re here, in his bed, in the sweatpants that he knows you love. That you’re here to stay. That you’re here and you’re his. 

“Hey,” he says, his lips twisting into a smile as you begin to leave soft kisses across the back of his shoulders. 

“Hey, yourself,” you reply, nipping at the skin you’ve just kissed. 

Carmy hisses at the feel of your teeth, letting out a laugh that seems to rumble in his throat. 

“Can I help you with something?” he teases you. 

He feels your lips curl into a smile against his skin, smirking in response. 

I fucking love you too. 

But before he can say anything, your hands are pushing his towel down past his hips, desperately envious of the way the material clings to him. 

“Mhm,” you hum. “I think you know.”

He lets the towel fall to the floor, and Carmy groans as you wrap your hand around his hard on, hissing as he feels you pump him a few times. 

“Seems like you’ve been thinkin the same thing,” you say again, feeling how hard he already is. 

He bites into his lower lip, his eyes rolling towards the back of his head as he enjoys the way you touch him. 

“Been thinkin’ about this all day, sweetheart.”

“Well…” you trail off. “I’d love to hear more about what’s been on your mind.”

“Yeah?” he croaks out, the pleasure you’re bringing him causing him to short circuit. 

“Yes,” you sigh out, wound up with desire. 

Finally, Carmy turns around, grabbing the back of your head and pulling you in for a passionate, lust-filled kiss. His lips are on yours like he’s been starving, as if nothing would satiate him the way tasting you will. You open your mouth, deepening the kiss, as you feel his tongue slide against yours. Carmy begins backing you up towards the bed, guiding you down to his mattress. 

“Had this on my mind since you left Chicago,” he mumbles, his pupils wide, fully blown out in lust. 

“Me too,” you manage to get out. 

He leans in once more, pressing his lips to yours once more. You drag your teeth against his bottom lip, before he breaks the kiss, his mouth and hands searching for real estate lower. Carmy leaves hot, open mouthed kisses along your breasts, your torso, and you’re practically pulling off your bralette like it’s burning your skin. 

“Been thinkin’ about this. You…” he admits, his voice hoarse. 

You gasp in pleasure as Carmy drags the sweatpants, along with your panties, down over your hips, tossing them who knows where behind him. 

“... tasting you.” 

You moan as he positions himself between your legs, kneeling on the floor, his chest pressed to the bed. Your legs quake with anticipation as you feel his hot breath fan over your core. Every moment he spends making you wait is killing you. 

“Carmy, please,” you beg, as he begins leaving soft kisses along your inner thighs. You can tell he’s making himself wait too, building the anticipation so that when he lets himself have you… 

“Carmen!” you moan. 

He practically groans against you as he uses the tip of his tongue to trace your clit.

“Fuck, I missed this,” he muses, before burying himself between your thighs again. 

His mouth is on you, tracing little shapes with his tongue, licking up and down your progressively wet core, while his hands keep your legs spread wide. 

All for him. 

He continues to eat you out, completely enraptured with the way you taste, the way your moans and gasps sound, the way you say his name, calling out for him and only him. As he slips a finger inside of you, you bury your hands in his hair, your hips thrusting up into his hand and against his mouth. 

“Holy fuck, Carmy,” you gasp, your mind completely taken over with the pleasure he’s giving you. 

He can tell that you’re close, adding another finger, taking note that you seem to like it even more. It’s as if he’s memorized every single thing you loved, everything that seemed to make you tick, and applied it to this time. 

“Carmy, I’m gonna-,” you cry out, your legs shaking as he brings you over the edge. 

You’re gasping, writhing against the bed, your legs still pushed wide by tatted hands as you begin to come down. You look down, tugging Carmy’s hair to bring him back up to you. When he finally looks back up at you, he’s grinning, completely satisfied with the pleasure he’s brought you. He makes his way back up, laying his very naked body over top of yours, leaning in for another kiss. 

You can taste yourself on his lips, and he doesn’t know if it’s possible to get harder than he is. 

“That’s what you were thinking about?” you whispered against his lips, spreading your legs to make room for him. You can feel his hard, aching cock against your wet center, and if you think you’ll die if he’s not inside of you as soon as possible. 

“All day.” 

He kisses you, nipping at your top lip momentarily, before continuing with:

“Haven’t stopped thinkin’ about it, actually.” 

That and something else. 

Three words he can’t seem to get out. 

Even though they’re begging to be said. 

You reach down, wrapping a hand around him, sliding his thick tip against you so that he can feel how wet and needy you are for him. 

“I can think of a few other things I want,” you beg him, feeling him shudder against you as you drag the tip of his cock over you again and again. 

“And what’s that?” Carmy asks you cheekily. 

Instead of answering, you guide him into you, earning a gasp from the both of you as he splits you open. Carmy takes his time pushing into you, making sure to pause when he’s fully seated inside of you. 

Your eyes are locked with his, allowing yourself to get totally lost inside of the pools of blue. You’re sighing out in pleasure, squeezing around him, your lips so fucking close to touching it’s near-painful. Carmy begins to slide out of you at a dangerously slow pace, thrusting into you, deeper each time. You’re pulling him down to you, and it’s as if you can’t get enough – enough of his mouth on yours, enough of him to hold onto – even though you have all of him. 

You’d let him consume all of you if he wanted to, you think to yourself, as he swallows your moans in his mouth.

It’s tangled legs, and tangled tongues, and whispered pleas. 

“God, you feel so good,” he grunts, burying his head in your neck as he speeds up. You can tell the both of you are close – that all the pent up sexual energy means that neither of you will last long. 

But you don’t care. 

You’ve got all the time in the world now. 

“Carmy,” you whine, desperate for him to let you cum.

You know you have his attention, as he raises his head, locking eyes with you again. 

“I want you to fuck me from behind,” you whisper, desperately. 

“Fuck. That’s so hot,” he groans, his eyes wide.

Unwillingly, he peels his body off of yours, letting you sit up straight. He thinks he may have died and gone to heaven as he watches you turn around, kneeling on all fours over his bed. His hands immediately go to your ass, dragging calloused palms over the curve of it as he kneels behind you. 

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” he gasps, guiding himself back into you. 

He thinks the sight alone may send him to an early grave as you bow your back, your ass still high as you press your chest against the bed. 

“Your ass is fucking incredible,” Carmy says, pulling out slowly, before thrusting back into you with a force that makes you cry out. 

“Carmen,” you whimper, your legs shaking beneath you. 

This feels too good. 

“Hmm?” he asks, his hands smoothing over your low back, following the way your back seems to arch in pleasure. 

“Fuck me. Please.” 

He knows he won’t last much longer. His hands hold onto your hips, the pads of his fingers pressing into your skin as he begins to speed up. It feels unreal, incredible, being this deep inside of you. And he gets to watch: watch the way you arch your back, watch your body respond to every single thrust, watch you grasp at the sheets and pillows, searching for something to hold onto. 

“I don’t think I’m gonna last long, baby,” he stutters out, his thrusts becoming more erratic as you beg him to keep going. 

“Please, Carmen. That feels so goddamn good,” you plead with him, face down into his sheets. 

“Shit. Fuck,” he howls, his voice booming against all corners of the room. 

Carmy places the gentlest hand against your low back, as if it to ask you to lay down, laying his body over yours from behind. He pauses, because it just feels too damn good, and he wants to revel in this moment before this ends. Ever so slowly, he begins to drag his cock in and out of you at the most torturously slow pace. His mouth leaves small kisses against your shoulders, nipping at your soft skin as he continues to make love to you. 

“Faster, Carmy. Please. I’m gonna cum,” you pant. 

You’re not sure just how much more patient you can get here. You feel him begin to speed up, and you’re moaning into his mattress against, begging for him to make you cum. He can feel you squeezing around him, and the sight of himself fucking into you really isn’t helping either. 

“Fuck,” he manages to get out, his hips beginning to stutter against your ass. 

“Yes. Whatever you want. I’ll give you whatever you want,” he repeats, earning the most blissful ‘Carmy’ from your lips he’s ever heard. 

“Baby, I’m so close,” you whine. 

“Yes, me too. Yes. Fuck, I love you,” he calls out, shutting his eyes as he cums. 

He can feel you shuddering around him, as he fucks you through your orgasm too, completely unaware of the words that have flown out of his mouth. 

You’re both panting, breathless from what you’ve just done, as you begin to come down. 

“Holy shit,” he finally says, leaning his forehead against the back of your shoulder. 

“You can say that again,” you chuckle, trying to catch your breath. 

“Can we do this tomorrow? And the day after that?” you ask, playfully, turning your head to kiss him. “And the day after that?”

Carmy smiles, “Absolutely.”

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to get cleaned up and back into comfy clothes. Carmy knows there’s no point in fighting you for your favorite pair of his sweatpants as he picks out another pair, remaining shirtless for your viewing pleasure. The pizza arrives shortly after, and you find yourself in bed, with the man you’ve loved for so long, getting a much-needed refuel break. 

“You know I hate eating in bed,” Carmy points out, watching you get crumbs all over his sheets. 

“Yeah, well I’m getting my own place so… that’s a future problem for you and me,” you answer, without a single care in the world. 

“For when we move in together?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. 

It’s almost as if he’s testing the waters – seeing if that’s something that’s still on your mind. 

“Right,” you confirm, confidently. 

But you’re in. 

You’re all in. 

It seems like you’ve passed whatever test he’s given you as the corners of his lips curl into the softest smile. 

“You know… you live in Chicago now,” he teases, in reference to your choice of pizza. 

You scoff in response, throwing in a playful eye roll for dramatic effect. 

“Oh fuck you.” 

He laughs. 

You eat quietly, enjoying your first night in Chicago as a resident. You watch as Carmy’s face changes, as if he’s trying to find the right words to say what’s on his mind. Instead of asking, you wait, knowing that he’ll bring it up when he finds them. 

“Hey uh…” he starts, hesitantly. “I just want you to know… that I… I meant what I said earlier.”

The more serious tone he uses piques your curiosity as you stare back at him blankly, unsure of what he's referring to.

“What do you mean?” you ask back.

Carmy takes another beat, pausing as he musters up the courage to clarify with:

“That I love you. I didn’t want you to think I just said it because… well you know.”

Because you were naked.

Because he got caught up in the moment.

Because he was inside of you.

He licks his lips, before opening his mouth to say it again: 

“I love you.”

As soon as the words leave his lips, his eyes are on you, watching your face for any kind of reaction.

But you’re beaming as you hear them and it all begins to make sense. It was something you’d said earlier, but the fact that he hadn’t said it back hadn’t been on your mind. Is this what he’d been thinking about all day? You just figured he'd say it back when he was ready.

You shake your head, a grin plastered to your face as you reply,

“I know, silly. I love you too.”

Fin. 

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila @cool-girl-is-hot @nunya7394 @galaxyprincess51-blog @carmensberzattos @blue-weekends @rexorangecouny @ridingthehotmessexpress @the-nursery@strawberryalicia @astronautelilanded @veryplatoniccircunstances @fonteyn @hlkwrites

[babyjakes]

not trying to play. [blurb.]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | nipple play

pairing | bf!jake jensen x subby!reader

warnings | reader is so subby, soft babie!! sort of dom!jake vibes ig?? it's jakey so all those fun petnames :)!!! tummy rubs <3. teasing. nipple play. begging if you squint. just foreplay in this one, but taking things further is implied.

word count | 502

an | hehe dis one is dedicated to my angel my babie my sweetie pie @brandycranby, a little while back you were thinkin a lot about nipple play (and i know how much you love acnh!!) so i thought this would be a fun little piece to write for you!! i don't write nearly as much nipple worship as i should, i hope you enjoy bby!! <3

"Look Jakey, Rosie moved in!" Your thumbs swirled happily over the joysticks of your controller as you directed your little character across the screen. Jake had been sweet enough to hook up your Switch to the big TV in the living room, allowing you to show off your game as he held you contently in his lap.

"Rosie," the blonde repeated after you as he saw the indigo cat pop up on the screen. "She's so cute, baby. Her house is so pretty!" His efforts to follow along and engage with what you were showing him were endearing, but his gentle hands creeping up to rest on your sides suggested he might have more in mind than just an innocent gaming session.

You giggled quietly as his teasing fingers rubbed faint circles over your tummy. "Tickles," you hummed softly as you did your best to focus on the game.

"Does it, honey?" Jake grinned, leaning his head forward to sneak in a kiss on your cheek. "You're so silly, sweetie. Just be a good girl for me and keep playin' your game, okay?" Your chest filled with butterflies as his voice dropped down to that yummy, rumbly part of his register. Watching you squirm softly beneath his gaze, Jake smiled. He knew exactly what he was doing to you; turning you to water in his hands was something he took great pleasure in.

You gulped, managing a nod in response. As you did your best to continue through your on-screen tasks, the man's practiced fingers slipped silently under your shirt, pausing to give your bare belly a few loving strokes before venturing upward. He was quick to undo your bra's front clasp, pulling the garment's straps down and away from your shoulders with ease. As he brought a cool hand up to cup each of your breasts, you couldn't help but let out a soft moan.

"J-Jakey," you mumbled, now feeling hopelessly fuzzy and distracted.

"Shhh, sweet girl," Jake murmured soothingly, working your soft skin between fingers, "don't mind me. Just playin' with you, cutie." When he brought his thumbs and pointer fingers up to begin gently pinching at your hardened nipples, you couldn't help but let out the prettiest little whimper the man behind you had ever heard.

"Oh baby..." his voice dropped even lower as he rolled your tender little knots of flesh between his fingers. His tantalizing touch sent tiny sparks shooting up through your nerves, causing heat to pool in your chest as your breaths picked up in pace.

"Jakey," you whined again, your voice wobbling as it came out just short of a plea.

The blonde chuckled at your desperation, cooing as your thighs began rubbing mindlessly together in an attempt to ease the friction building down in your core. "Okay, okay," he gave in as he reached around to take your controller from your shaky hands. "I'm done teasing, baby. You need me to carry you?" he asked knowingly, nodding in the direction of the bedroom.

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

Can you do a clingy possessive Tony stark being super clingy with his wife that has to go to work or something and he basically eats her out so she won’t leave pls 🥺 love your fics!

You Know I Eat

"Bitch, you know I eat.." You rap, starin at yourself in the bathroom mirror as you tuck the left side of your hair behind your ear.

You can't help the way you pop your ass to the beat of your jam while it plays on the surround sound speakers throughout the mansion you share with Tony. Pretendin you don't feel your husbands fucking intense stare on your backside, you make ya juicy ass cheeks clap and jiggle in your stark white shirt dress.

"Pretty face wit sum pretty feet, bitch you know I eat.."

One last lean forward to wipe gloss off the corner of your mouth with your index finger and thumb, a small smile gracin your lined lips as you feel your fit slide up in the back a bit. The show you put on teases the fuck outta yo man so of course you gotta throw it back once more.

"Hoe I'm still on fleek, boss bitch- you can't compete. You already know what time it is, bitch I came ta eat.."

Just about done with the finishing touches on your look, you give a small half lick to the right side of your upper lip and a flick of your 28 inch y/h/c bone straight hair over your shoulder. Spinning round to asses the back of yourself through the mirror before turnin and comin face to face with your fine ass husband.

Tony stares you down ravenously, eyeing your frame while nibbling that sultry, full bottom lip as he leans against the doorframe. Muscled arms crossed against his strong bare chest, you notice his lengthy dick is hard and pokin the front of his black gym shorts. Doesn't even realize he's lookin like a fuckin snack.

Little do you know, hes thinkin the exact same thing about you. God damn, you look so alluring to him. He has the immediate urge to get to that prize in between your legs. Lust filled eyes drag up and down your frame once more before meeting your amused gaze.

"And where do you think you're goin, yn?" He asks, like you both haven't had this conversation a gazillion times today.

"You know I have to run to the office real quick and then I'm gonna meet up with girls. Don't act like we have argued about this earlier more times than I'd like to count."

The way you roll your eyes in the air tests Tony's patience. Makes him straighten up, arms at his sides as he takes a step toward you, nose flaring just a bit. You hold your ground, juting your waist out to the side as you put your hand on your hip.

"I believe I won that argument, as I win all of our arguments." Your cocky ass husband responds and he takes another step towards you.

Impossible to miss his sneaky advance, you can't help but to laugh aloud. Closing the distance, you step up and wrap your arms around his neck to pull his body to yours securely. His cock pokes at you, twitchin against you relentlessly. Your pussy calls back with an answering flutter.

"No, I win all our fights because Daddy can't take when I inhale his cock down my throat while massagin his fat balls." You counter back, speaking against his mouth before licking as his sensual bottom lip.

Tony eyes shut and he groans loud when he feels the tip of your tongue comes out to play. Grippin your waist, he humps his dick against you as the desperation for you slowly rises. Coupled with your reminder of how fuckin good you suck his dick he's, about ready to end this conversation and get to the fun part.

The racy banger you keep on repeat plays in the back ground as ya man rest his face between your perky brown tits and takes a deep breath. Tony backs you into the bathroom counter, lifting and setting you atop it. He steps between your open legs, kissing every inch of skin he can reach on your chest. Fuck his lips on your body get your pussy to start droolin in an instant.

"Stay." He softly demands when he pulls back from your tits, looking into your eyes.

The way he lovingly gazes at you, slowly bending to press sweet kisses on your neck has an arousing warmth spreading throughout your body. Your resolve already starts to break from his ministrations. Fuck maybe you could drop by the office tomorrow instead..

"Stay." He says again, and you feel his thumb press against the wet spot on your panties that sits right against your pulsing clit.

Your head drops back against the mirror as you inhale sharply. Tony doesn't play fair as he rotates his thumb in deliberate circles against you. Dammit, maybe the you can meet up with the girls another time..

"Stay." He commands one last time before dropping to his knees, pulling your skimpy cotton panties to the side and softly sucking on your sensitive button.

Your moan is loud and long as he suckles at you like he's nursin a tit. Looking down to watch, you notice your husbands closed eyes and look of pure bliss as he casually eats your pussy. The grip at your waist pulls you to the edge of the counter closer to his mouth and he whines your name into your wet pussy. His hips hump the air in the same rhythm that he laps at you, stiff cock wagging up and down repeatedly in his shorts.

"You gonna stay with Daddy for the day, baby?" He asks, nuzzling in your thick brown thighs before getting back to his meal.

"Fuuuuck.. IcantIcantIcant. Pleeeease. You kn-know I gotta goooo." You answer through heavy breaths and clenched teeth as he takes you apart piece by piece.

Although he keeps an unrushed steady pace, all of it is too much. You throw your head back into the mirror with a loud thud, trying to slow down the orgasm attempting to race through you. It's feels so fucking good that you don't notice how Tony lifts your right leg to let it hang over his shoulder loosely.

"Come on kitten," -suck- "Be Daddy's good girl," -suck- "Stay home with me today," -suck- "And I'll fiiiiinally do that thing you want." He offers in-between his slurps.

Fuck, you instantly know what he's referring to. It seemed so unlikely that you took it off your bucket list long ago. It's been a constant wet dream to have a threesome with him and his red and gold ironman suit. The thought excites you, makes your pussy clench and your orgasm inch closer as you hump your husbands mouth lustfully.

"OK, deal!" You concede, as he spreads your sticky brown lips and licks into the pink of your pussy.

Not even a second after the truce you feel his fingers leave your hips and rip open the buttons on your fit. Full, soft, brown tits bounce free as you gasp in utter disbelief.

"Daddy!" You squeal, watching as your buttons pop off and fly across the bathroom.

"I'll buy you another. Sorry." He hums into your slit, not sounding the least bit apologetic as he reaches up to grope your tit, flicking at the piercing on each of your dark nipples.

The action makes you tingle as you feel a pull in your core. Your shimmering gold wrap around heel dangles limply in the air as one of your hands frantically grab at the long strands of hair in the front of his head; the other arm shakily extends behind you to hold yourself up. Staring up at the ceiling unseeing, your leg curls around his head as he slips down to lick at the glistening between your pussy lips, thumb pressing quick firm circles at your clit.

"You're a mooonster.." You moan at your mean as man.

Tony only chuckles as he increases the suction at your soaked entrance before stiffening his tongue and plungin inside your quivering cunt. The sensation of him fucking you so voraciously with the wet muscle snaps your back into an arch. He uses the tip of his nose to press his thumb into your clit more firmly to give you more. His cock throbs fervidly as he enjoys eating you, craving the tight hold of your perfect little pussy.

You can't find it in yourself to give a single fuck about anyone else that might be in the mansion while you wail in complete rapture. It's simply reflexive when you yank Tony's head tight against your pussy and grind into his mouth. Your hips hump his face as you help fuck his tongue into you deeper. The groans he let's out as you tug his hair hard matches yours, as well as vibrate the hell outta your core.

"DaddyI'mgonnacum! Uhn, uhn, uhn, mmmmm.. Makin me feel so gooooood Daddy! Ah!"

You're gushy pussy wets up the lower half of his face as the dam bursts and your walls continuously contract around the talented tongue trying to devour you. The wetness drips generously down his chin, neck, and chest. It's one of the best orgasms of your life and you hope you're not drowning your hubby with the wave of juices flowing from you.

Tony's in heaven when you cum and convulse against his mouth. He's in love with the trembles spreading throughout you, so he removes his tongue from your pussy just to try and consume your pulsating button. His lips are a bit sore and swollen but the suction remains consistently persistent as you shriek for reprieve. But your husband only bullys the poor little gem with his devilish mouth, intense gaze taking in your passionate cries.

Your volume raises so high the you supercede the track playin over the bathroom speakers and he feels instant regret for not closing the bedroom door; knows his assistants are probably getting an earful of your wails from downstairs. Still he's just beyond grateful he ain't buss his load in his shorts; that nuts so he can spray and paint your perfect curvy body.

"Pleeeease Daddy! Allyoursbaby! Won't leave less you say yeeees Daddy! Pleasepleasepleaseplease!" Is the only one of your pleas he surrenders to.

Finally pullin back slowly, a knowing,sexy smirk in place as he lets your leg slide limply from his shoulder, he ogles you intently. Openly admiring how you try and fail to catch your breath, the rapid rise and fall of your breasts; delighted at how you tremble with closed eyes and pinched brows. Its quiet in the bathroom besides your heavy breathing and the song playing in the background.

When you eventually open your eyes, your met with Ironman on his knees behind your smirking husband. The eyes glow brightly as it looks from Tony to you. Ya fine ass man chuckles heartily at your shocked expression, before teasin you.

"Bitch, you know I eat."

[mrs-gucci]

Fireside

{ clyde logan x female reader }

anon

A fun sexy bonfire would be fun, maybe with some exhibitionism thrown in? With Flip or Clyde or anyone you think please! :D

warnings. SMUT (18+ ONLY), slight exhibitionism (high risk of being caught), oral sex (m recieving), light dirty talk, cum in mouth.

word count: 1.19k

★ written for sextember 2023 ★

** CLICKING “KEEP READING” MEANS YOU UNDERSTAND & ACKNOWLEDGE ALL OF THE WARNINGS LISTED ABOVE AND ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, YOUR CONTENT CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. MINORS DNI. **

collage by me :)

When Jimmy and Mellie extended an invitation to you for the Logan family annual camping trip, you were honored. You and Clyde have only been dating for about four months, but everyone agrees that you two have something really special.

So when the day rolls around, you and Clyde pack up the car and drive up to the campsite. Everyone's already there when you arrive, considering you two got a bit of a late start due to...special circumstances, aka you two being unable to keep your hands off each other.

Clyde insists on setting up the tent while you sit with the family and start getting to know everyone. It's immediately clear that you fit right in with everyone and soon enough, you've got some hot apple cider in-hand and you're cracking jokes with the group.

Soon the sky turns from blue to orange and the Logan boys begin building the campfire while everyone else gets things ready for dinner. Once it's cooked, the lively conversation continues well into the night, with plenty of laughs and stories shared between everyone.

Most of the family ends up back in their tents by ten, but you, Clyde, Jimmy and Mellie continue chatting for a bit longer. For some reason, you're starting to get really touchy. Because you're looking at Clyde in the yellow glow of the fire and he's just looking so, so handsome...

He looks over at you when he seemingly catches onto your mood, offering you a small but knowing smile. The cool metal on his prosthetic hand comes to rest on your thigh as Mellie and Jimmy start to wind down for the night.

As soon as they're in their tents, you're leaning over and pulling him in for a kiss. He chuckles against your lips, flesh hand resting on the side of your face.

"What's up with ya tonight?" he asks when you pull back slightly to catch your breath. "Don't think I didn't notice your wanderin' eyes. now."

You smile, looking up at him. "I just think you look very handsome this evening."

"Handsome, huh?" His eyebrows raise slightly as he gives you another kiss. "'n that's all that's got you all riled up? You ain't thinkin' about anything else?"

Your smile widens to a not-so-subtle grin.

"I mean, I had a few other thoughts..." you hum, getting up and climbing onto his lap. "Like what we did this morning."

Clyde hums, his hand resting on your hip, stroking your clothed skin gently.

"Oh yeah? What've ya been thinkin' about in particular?"

You kiss him deeply, then let your lips fall to his jaw, then his neck and throat, mouthing and nipping gently along the way.

"Thought about how good your mouth felt on me, how fucking good you are at eating my pussy," you hum. "Aaaand I thought about how lucky I am that I'm the only one who gets to take your big, thick dick inside of me. Mm, and finally, I thought about how I never got to repay you for making me feel so good."

He lets out a shaky breath as you slide down onto your knees in front of him, hands smoothing over his thighs. Clyde looks around at the tents, then back down at you.

"Honey, I dunno if we s-should..."

You lean in and press a very gentle kiss to the forming bulge around his crotch, your warm breath wafting over his crotch. "I mean, I can stop if you want me to. But everyone's asleep, baby, and you know I can make it quick."

His nostrils flare and his jaw clenches slightly as he tries to keep himself mostly composed. He brings his hand around to cradle the back of your head, gently pushing you down, indicating that he'd like you to continue.

Your lips turn up in a small smirk as your hands make quick work of his pants, pushing them down enough to be able to pull his length out.

The air is starting to get a bit chilly, but the fire crackling behind you helps. You hum, wrapping your lips around his tip, teasing his head before sinking down further and beginning to suck him off. Clyde grunts softly, hips rocking up instinctively and fingers tightening slightly in your hair.

"Mmm, Christ," he groans quietly, looking down at you as you bob up and down on him. "Lookit you, my p-pretty girl, mm, makin' me feel fuckin' amazing..."

You smile around him, then begin to go a bit faster, earning you a low groan from above, which only spurs you on more. Clyde's having a very hard time keeping quiet and finds himself looking around every time he makes a noise, making sure he didn't clue any of his family in to what's going on.

There's something so nerve-wracking but incredibly thrilling about this, getting a blowjob out in the open, with some of his family members sleeping only a few hundred yards away. Luckily, deep sleeping runs in the Logan family, so he's pretty confident that no one will catch you two.

And there's also the fact that he's incredibly, incredibly close to orgasm and it's only been a couple minutes. You just really know how to push all the right buttons.

"Oh honey, i-if you keep this up, I ain't gonna last much longer," he breathes. "Mm, you're too fuckin' good at this."

You pull off for a second and replace your mouth with your hand, looking up at him as you briefly catch your breath.

"You can move, baby," you breathe. "Use my mouth, I want you to cum."

Clyde growls softly and holds your head firmly in place as his hips begin to thrust up into your mouth. He loves when you let him take control, he loves that you trust him enough to let him do this.

"I'm gonna cum," he says quickly, breathing heavily through his nose, lips pursed as he frantically pushes you down and thrusts up at the same time. "Ohhhh I'm gonna cu--"

His orgasm suddenly hits and he lets out a long, low groan, hips jerking slightly with each spurt of cum. He makes sure you take every last drop you've earned from him before letting you go, leaning back in his chair to catch his breath for a moment.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and catch your breath before standing up again. Clyde quickly tucks himself away, then pulls you onto his lap again, kissing you deeply, sighing at the taste of his cum lingering in your mouth.

"Fuck, darlin', you're incredible," he says in between kisses. "I...I love ya."

Your eyes widen and you pull back, looking down at him. That's the first time he's ever said it to you. You smile widely, then take his face in your hands, thumb swiping across his cheekbone.

"I love you too Clyde."

He grins from ear to ear, then kisses you again, continuing to do so for a few minutes before the two of you put out the fire and head back to your tent.

****

sextember taglist: @rynwritesstuff @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-zimmerman

if you'd like to be tagged in future sextember works, please let me know via comment on this post or the original sextember post!

[jolapeno]

from all of your music asks which one gives you the most javier vibes?? p.s I love every thing you write for him

i'm so sorry that i haven't replied to this, but i had an idea, then i got super ill and it's just been a long time. but i actually have a 'happy' javi p playlist which basically has a bunch of songs from the 90s in. and while those songs don't remind me of him, they remind me of situations he could be found in. and so, here's a gift (god i'm so drabble-y at the moment)

javier peña x f!reader

just straight fluff. soft!happy!javi

Javi doesn't mean to watch, but he can't help it.

Not a thing on earth could tear his eyes from it.

There's something about you being here that makes him keep repeatedly pinching himself.

Doing so when you join him out in the field, glass of fresh lemonade—ice clinking—as the sun beats down. Clutching you close when he wakes to you beside him, all peaceful in the new bed the two of you bought, placed in the centre of a room in the house he grew up in.

There’s more arm-pinching moments, but while he loves them all, the one he’s greeted with right now is better than them all.

This one is his favourite. One he suspects he’s not meant to see, not meant to watch.

You’re lost in the moment. Found a new passion, a new hobby—baking. There’s pots and trays across the counters he’d sat on as a child; the small radio his pop’s had fixed for you blaring out a station he doesn't know the name of.

All he knows is it makes you move.

It makes your body twist, your hips move from side to side. You almost sing (or rap, or hum) albeit out of tune, letting the music run through you.

You're relaxed. Happy.

A sight so foreign to any he could have ever imagined before. Not even in the dreams which had given him hope when the two of you were in Bogotá.

But you are, happy. You're that way with him—because of him. Whispering it to him when he’d pulled you into his lap, both of your eyes up on the stars above.

Javi isn’t quick enough to move when you turn on the spot. Your hands thankfully empty as your mouth drops open at him in the open doorway.

It's instant, the way his lips slide further up into his cheeks, showing his teeth. The way he takes you in, admiring you with flour on your cheek and nose, eyes all wide and full of insecurity—the latter he wishes to wipe quicker from you than the ingredients on your face.

You’re beautiful.

He’s thought so for so long, yet it still catches him by surprise.

That thing in his chest, that feeling which has been growing in the weeks and month, suddenly doubles, triples, flooding him in warmth and affection. In love.

"Fuck..."

He's on you before embarrassment can burn your ears and cheeks, "You’ve got moves, cariño."

"Shut up, Javi."

He nudges his nose against yours, tilted your chin up to meet his eyes, swirling brown in the stunning shades he gets to see every morning, noon and night.

"I'm serious."

You purse your lips, swallowing back a retort (likely snarky and layered with rich sarcasm). A smile, one which you’re stubbornness attempts to keep back, threatens to spill out.

Not that he cares. He just tightens his one arm around you, pinning you to him, as though you wish to be anywhere else. Let’s his fingers stroke against your skin, catching some of the flour from your jaw, allowing himself to bask in it, the sentiments which wrap around him since the two of you have been here.

Since you chose him.

Since you began to feel like home.

Home in a way that's different than this place had felt when he returned briefly. Even when he’d been wrapped in memories of his mom—even when he’d felt his pop’s proudness.

This is different. Being here with you is so different, not even sure it would have felt like this if you hadn't come with him now.

"What you thinkin'?" you ask, whispered close to his ear as the song changes, pulling him back to you. He feels you turn in his arm so your back is to his chest. "You thinking you should dance with me?"

"Don't dance, cariño."

But it doesn't stop your hips from sliding against him, your hand taking his in yours as you wrap it across your stomach. Letting the music flutter through you, your other hand wrapping around the side of his neck, eyes staring into his.

He listens as you whisper to the parts of the song you know, finding his chin digs into your shoulder, both watching and just feeling you.

"... today was a good day."

Javi agrees, smirking silently, pressing a kiss to your hairline.

Not aware that his pop’s is stood a few metres away, reminiscing about a moment he had once experienced—that was so similar to the one he’s watching play out in the kitchen.

an: this somewhat complements coming home, btw.

[barry-j-blupjeans]

Carey didn't really like going into the Director's office. Like, yeah, sure, she'd have to come on by every once and a while if Lucretia wanted to talk to her or just some of the Regulators in general. But being in an office wasn't exactly Carey's preferred "let's have a conversation zone". Sadly, this was a conversation she would prefer to have as soon as possible, so waiting to catch the Director outside her office was a no-go.

Carey rapped on the door, and then let herself in before the Director could answer. The office had grown more cluttered since Candlenights. Maybe it was the quick pace they were making with collecting the Relics, but the Director often seemed much more weary than she used to. There were times when she truly looked her age. Carey didn't know much about how humans aged— though she was learning! She was learning.— but every time she looked, the Director seemed to have aged a few more years.

There was a stack of papers stacked on her desk in a messy pile. The Director had three out in front of her— Carey could recognize Magnus's chicken scratch. She seemed to be reviewing the mission reports from the last relic collection. The Temporal Chalice and whatnot. At the very least, that might make this conversation a little easier.

The Director looked up at her. Had she ever told them how old she was? She looked worn and on edge, but she put on her professional face as Carey shut the door, the face she rarely let anyone see her without. Carey knew when someone was wearing a mask all too well.

"Carey," she said, moving the reports aside. "What can I do for you?"

Okay. Okay. She could do this. Just had to say words! In a good order. Yeah.

"Well, uh," Carey said, sitting herself down in one of the chairs across from the Director's desk. "I just had a question, 'Creesh."

The Director let out a little annoyed sigh. She rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Please don't call me that," she said.

"Just keepin' you on your toes," Carey said. She swung her tail back and forth to give herself something to do. "No, but, for real. I did have a question."

The Director waved her hand in a "go ahead" motion. Carey cleared her throat.

"Is there anything… other than the Voidfish that can, like, static up someone's memories?"

The Director blinked. She sat up a little.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well," Carey said. How in-depth did she want to go with this? She picked around in her mind for a starting point. Her gaze lingered on the mission reports and Magnus's shitty handwriting a moment longer. "Y'know the— the whole thing that the Chalice did where it, uh… rooted through the boys' memories a bit?"

The Director kept her face perfectly neutral. Not a crack.

"I'm aware," she said, glancing down at the reports as well.

"I don't know how, uhm, in-depth they got with you on those reports," Carey said, even though she did know exactly how in-depth Magnus had gone with his (which is to say: barely anything. The deep and understandable distrust of authority figures hadn't changed in Refuge.). "But I was talkin' to Magnus and, uh. We were just wondering. 'Cus there was an entire… bit. With a buncha static, apparently? Like, a real long bit. And I know static is kinda the Voidfish's thing, but he's inoculated obviously, so—?"

She left the question open-ended, watching the Director's face. As expected, there wasn't a shift in expression. There was open concern there, a little bit of curiosity. But from what Carey could tell, the Director seemed to be telling the truth when she said,

"As far as I'm aware of, nothing else has powers remotely like the Voidfish." She paused, tilting her head. "It may be a memory spell, or mayhaps a curse? But Magnus should— he should not be receiving any memory-impacting side effects of the Voidfish since he has been inoculated with the ichor."

"Killian was thinkin' curse," Carey admitted, swinging her legs. "But then it's just like— why, y'know? Like whatever he can't remember isn't doing anything other than— than— ughhhh." Carey dragged her hand down her face. "Director, can you keep a secret?"

"Carey," the Director said, with a touch of humor. "Think of who you're asking."

"Fair enough," Carey relented. "It's just— it's not my secret to tell, but also you are like, one of the only people I could think of of knowing what the hell might be going on. But it's— well, y'know how Magnus grew up in Raven's Roost?"

"I'm well aware," the Director said. "As he keeps mentioning it every other conversation we have."

"Yeah," Carey said. "He does that. But he— I mean, again, he grew up in Raven's Roost. Like, that's his entire thing. But, uhm. He told me that sometimes in like, the last few years he lived there, things seemed… off?"

"How do you mean?"

Carey groaned, trying to think.

"Like— his mom ran a flower shop? But no one ever heard of it before. No— no one seemed to know his mom. And I can tell it upset him, but he doesn't like to talk about it, y'know? It's hard— it's hard to kinda chip away at his brain when he doesn't really trust his brain in the first place."

And there it was. For the first time since Carey entered the room, a small crack appeared in the Director's perfect mask. It was a small thing— she clenched her jaw and drew back on herself slightly, barely enough to be noticeable. And the look in her eyes changed from professional interest to completely and utter devastation and back to professional interest once more. She locked herself back up even faster than Magnus did. That being said, Carey wasn't as close with the Director as she was with Magnus.

She knew Magnus's tells. The way he held himself, the tiniest change in his expressions, the pitch of his voice. But it was hard to see past the brick wall that was the Director's facade. All she got were these little glances, the restless note in her speech, the state of her office.

Magnus held secrets he didn't know about. Carey knew that. The Director looked like she held all her secrets and the weight of the world as well. In some way, she did.

Carey didn't know if she'd be able to have the courage to do what the Director did. She was beginning to become uncertain if that was a good or a bad thing.

"Magnus should not be receiving any memory-impacting side effects of the Voidfish," the Director repeated, voice steady, body still. Carey's tail thrashed a bit. Then, with a touch of sincerity and a weird twist of what Carey could only identify as yearning, she added, "but I genuinely hope you can find something that will ease Magnus's mind."

"Yeah," Carey said, watching as the Director straightened the reports out, then pick up a pen. "Me too."

[starcrossedreaders]

how about a late night drive fic with leon i think he would do it when your both bored or just wanna relax i just thought it would be sweet for this man to FINALLY GET A BREAK FOR ONCE with y/n by his side ( btw i love your fics they make my day!!!)

Author Note: Your request made my day! There's something about Leon driving a stick shift that makes me go wild, Enjoy!

Warnings: FLUFF!

The dim moonlight shone through your windows casting a shadow to form on your fiancé's form. Normally, it was your partner that would twist in turn in the late hours of the night but now you have taken on that burden. Soft snores filled the room as your twisted to watch Leon sleep peacefully. He is so deserving of this that you didn't mind not being able to drift off.

Wedding planning is more stressful than you imagined it would be. Leon has been so attentive and caring throughout all of it that it took some of the stress off, but still, you wish he would add his input instead of saying 'Whatever my baby wants'.

Lifting your body up a little you check the time on the analog clock on Leon's side of the bed. The dim red numbers read 1:35. Sighing you plopped your body back down.

Leon was never a heavy sleeper, especially when his beloved was supposed to be sleeping next to him. Your tossing and turning had jostled him from his slumber. Squinting his eyes open he could feel a slight tickling feeling along his arm. The first thing he noticed was you drawing random shapes along his arm.

Frowning a little bit he turned his head mumbling, "Wanna go for a ride?" His deep husky voice floated to your ears.

Halting your movements you nodded your head up and down.

"Okay, let me put some pants on then we can go," Leon shuffled out of bed and went in search for some sweatpants that were lazily tossed on the floor earlier that night.

You got up stealing Leon's old RPD hoodie that has seen it's fair share these days. Your bedroom door creaked open as Leon opened it for you with your shoes in hand. You took them from hand mumbling a 'Thank you' as you slid them on while walking out to your living room. Leon grabbed the car keys as he opened the front door for you.

"M'lady,"

"Why thank you kind sir," You nodded your head as you walked out into the dark night.

The cold air bit as your cheeks with a soft breeze tossing your hair around. Leon unlocked the car as he jogged past you to open your door. Ever since the first date he has always opened and closed doors for you, despite dating for 3 years.

The black leather seats bit into your exposed legs as you hunched over and slightly shivered. You teeth clattered as Leon sat down.

"Sorry baby, I'm moving as fast as I can," Leon was quick to start the car up and crank the heat up.

A rather loud rumble shook the car when it woke up. Leaning back you watched as Leon brought the E-brake back and got ready to leave the driveway. Grabbing the aux cord you scrolled through your playlists before deciding on Self-Care by Mac Miller. The speakers shook a little as music filled the small confinements of Leon's car.

Leon's hand rested on your thigh, occasionally lifting it to change gears. You laid your head on the window as you watched the different street signs. You guys stayed in this comfortable silence with Leon looking over the check on you every once in awhile.

"Whatcha thinkin' about my love?" His hand squeezed your thigh before he changed gears again.

"The wedding... Are you sure you like the colors I picked out?"

"Baby, I want this wedding to be your dream wedding. As long as I get to kiss you and say 'I do' I don't care about the rest,"

"I know, it's just... it's your wedding too, and you only get married once so I want it to be just as perfect for you as it is for me, y'know,"

"Hm I understand. What can I do to help you not feel this way?"

This is why you love Leon, he is always willing to better himself if there's a problem, always asking what's wrong and what he can do to fix it. It makes your heart flutter whenever he does it.

"Maybe, be a little more opinionated?"

"I can do that," He looked over at you with a smile as he squeezed your thigh again.

"Thanks Lee, I love you. Forever and always."

The rest of the ride consisted of some terrible karaoke to serious talks about what your futures would look like. It had been decided that you guys would try for two kids, and have 2 dogs with a pet lizard, Leon's idea of course.

When the sun kissed the horizon your head had ended up leaning on Leon's arm as your heavily eye lids dropped down over your eyes. Leon pulled up in he driveway when he looked down at your tired body. His love, best friend and partner in crime. He still couldn't understand how he managed to be able to call you his.

Leaning over his place a soft kiss in your hair before he mumbled:

"Forever and always my love."

[ghostieagere]

i'm sorry i've been hoarding this ask for so long, dear anon :0 i think it's about time i got around to writing this one properly, don't you ? <3

cw: mountain is worried he's being annoying/a burden, little mountain, caregivers swiss and rain, they/them rain, allusions to spanish swiss and french rain

The kettle kicks into motion as Swiss moves around the kitchen. He's making himself a coffee, but he figures it wouldn't be out of place to make some teas for anyone else who wants one. As he's reaching into the high cupboard to grasp around for the tin of teabags, though, a noise catches his attention.

It sounds like a whine, or maybe a sniffle, but either way it's quiet. As if whoever is making the noise is trying to stifle themselves. What's confusing though, is that there is no one else in the kitchen with Swiss; they're all on the sofa preparing for their weekly movie night while Swiss makes their drinks (it's Sunshine's turn to pick the movie this week so they're watching The Exorcist, again).

The sound reaches Swiss' ears again, just barely concealed by the thrum of the kettle. It sounds like a kit's whine, Swiss notes. A distressed kit, or a lonely one. Perhaps both. He quickly runs to the lounge area and does a quick headcount. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine... Someone's missing, and Mountain's beanbag is empty.

Oh.

Swiss races back to the kitchen and calls out for the earth ghoul. "Mount?" He calls. "Tierra, are you in here?"

Another sniffle answers him, and one of the lower cupboard doors swings open slightly.

Swiss slowly walks over to the cupboard and crouches down in front of it, opening the door just as gradually. He doesn't want to spook the earth ghoul even more than he seems to be.

As Swiss opens the cupboard door, tear-filled green eyes stare back at him. Mountain, at some point during the day, has managed to squish himself and his comfort blanket into the cramped kitchen cupboard.

Swiss smiles down at him gently. "Hi, Mounty. What are you doing in here, tierra?"

Mountain furrows his brows and brings his blanket up to cover his face.

"Oh, you're hiding?"

The little earth ghoul nods, blanket still draped over his horns.

"You don't wanna come watch the movie with us?"

Mountain shakes his head so rapidly that it's a wonder he doesn't fall out of the cupboard from dizziness.

"Ex-ist," he croaks. Words are always difficult for him when he slips into this headspace.

"Ex-ist...?" Swiss wonders aloud. "Oh! The Exorcist?" Mountain nods. "You don't want to watch The Exorcist?"

Mountain shakes his head, bringing his blanket off of his head, and Swiss finally realises that the cause of the tears filling the earth ghoul's eyes is fear.

"You don't have to watch the scary movie if you don't want to, baby," he assures Mountain. "We can go to my room and do something else, if you'd like." He smiles at the little earth ghoul, hoping he'll be able to coax him out of the cupboard; the cramped space doesn't look very comfortable at all.

Despite the relief in Mountain's eyes when Swiss tells him he doesn't have to watch the movie if he doesn't want to, Mountain shakes his head yet again, opening and closing his mouth as he tries to say something. He only gets more frustrated when his vocal chords don't want to cooperate with him.

"I'll tell you what, tierra," Swiss starts, quickly stepping in to stop Mountain's spiralling thoughts. "If you let me help you out of your cupboard, we can go and get your whiteboard. Then you'll be able to tell me what you're thinkin' in that brain of yours, yeah?"

Mountain gives Swiss a small smile and a nod, holding his hand out to let Swiss help him out of the cupboard. The multi ghoul grasps his wrist and tugs gently, still allowing Mountain to climb out at his own pace. Once he's out, the little earth ghoul sits on the floor, legs straight out in front of him, the corner of his blanket in between his teeth as he chews and sucks on the soft fabric.

"Alrighty, little buddy," Swiss reaches a hand out and rubs Mountain's knee comfortingly. "Do you want to come with me to get your whiteboard?"

Mountain shakes his head and points to the floor with the hand not holding his blanket up to his face; he wants to stay on the kitchen floor.

"Will you be okay on your own in here?"

Another shake of the head.

"Who do you want to keep you company, tierra?"

Mountain shrugs.

Swiss gives him a grin and a thumbs up before jumping to his feet. "I'll be back real soon, 'kay?"

Mountain nods and Swiss only just manages to catch a glimpse of the shaky thumbs up that the little earth ghoul gives him in return.

As Swiss rounds the corner to the lounge area, Sunny spots him and smiles before making a face when she sees that he isn't carrying any drinks like he'd promised earlier. "Can one of you go look after Mount for a sec, please?" He asks. "He's in the kitchen and wants some company while I grab his whiteboard."

Rain nods and makes their way over to the kitchen as Swiss heads in the opposite direction towards Mountain's bedroom. He gathers up Mountain's whiteboard and pencil case of markers under one arm and does a quick scan of the room for anything Mountain may want later on. All of the little earth ghoul's favourite cups, bowls and snacks are in the kitchen, he's already got his blanket with him, and he's not slipped far enough to want or accept a pacifier or teether, so Swiss deems the whiteboard and markers enough for now and makes his way back to the kitchen.

When he gets there, Rain and Mountain are sitting side-by-side and Rain is helping Mountain to play some kind of counting game on their fingers. The water ghoul nudges Mountain when they see Swiss walk in, pointing to the multi ghoul to let Mountain know he's back.

"Look what I've got..." Swiss sing-songs, grinning wide when Mountain looks up at him excitedly, already reaching his hands out for his communication tool.

Once Swiss has passed it to him, the little earth ghoul grabs his favourite green marker in his fist and starts writing messily on the board. He turns the board around for Swiss and Rain to see.

"wanna wach a moovy but not exy-sist but sunny wants to wach exy-sist so it is mean if i do not let her :("

"Oh, tierra, Sunny won't mind if you ask if we can watch something else."

"Yes," Rain agrees. "She likes The Exorcist, but she loves you more, mon petit chou."

Mountain turns the whiteboard around and erases the marker on its surface, quickly writing another phrase before turning it back around to face Swiss and Rain.

"promiss?"

“We promise, darling,” Rain assures him.

Swiss smiles his agreement. “Do you want to ask Sunny, baby? We can help if you want us to.”

Mountain nods tentatively and out of the corner of his eye, Swiss sees Rain’s face split into a soft smile as well.

“How about you get something written down on that whiteboard of yours then, tierra?” Swiss reaches out to ruffle the little earth ghoul’s hair gently as he finishes speaking. He can see Mountain fighting off a smile as he rubs the marker off with his sleeve and begins writing.

Rain moves around to look over Mountain’s shoulder, nodding along as they read what the the little earth ghoul writes, occasionally giving him ideas for phrasing his words nicely. Mountain gives them both a thumbs up when he’s done.

Rain kisses the top of Mountain’s head and assures him that he’s done a very good job before standing up and holding their hand out to the little earth ghoul.

Swiss gently swipes the whiteboard and marker out of Mountain’s hand before mirroring Rain’s action, both of them offering to pull Mountain up. Once he’s up, Swiss offers the whiteboard back to him, but Mountain shakes his head, lifting his both hands where they’re joined to Rain’s and Swiss’ own.

“You wanna keep holding hands, tierra?”

Mountain nods, almost shyly, like he doesn’t know if it’s okay.

“That’s perfectly alright, petit chou,” Rain smiles.

“Yeah,” Swiss agrees. “We’ll keep you nice and close in the common room too, okay?”

Mountain nods, more sure of himself this time.

“You ready?” Swiss waits for yet another answering nod from the little earth ghoul. “Alrighty, let’s go find Sunny!”