#nev replies to a reply

[nevaeh-daughterofvalcarol]

MEW

MEW :3

[aspec-friendly-reading]

Hi! I would like to ask for a recommendation for an arranged marriage/platonic marriage of convenience book involving an Aroace character. I like the trope set up but never the resolution and haven’t been able to find anything. Thank you!

Mods don't have any recommendations but posting this to see if someone else does!

[dialsdrnk]

@barkskins | liked this for a starter !

comforting someone — even in the smallest degree — is always something of a challenge for nev; not because they lack the empathy ( it's really kind of the opposite problem ), but because there's too much about a situation to take into account. is this a 'need advice' situation? is it a just shut up and listen situation? they never know the fucking difference, ever. for instance, right now, they're scanning the other's face and trying to gauge on a scale of one to ten how upset they are, like assigning numerical value will help at all. they've been listening, they know they're just nervous about something coming up in their personal life — and nev inhales, laughs a little nervously, shoulders rising in a shrug. "... could, could always take me with you, for moral support. my mom calls me her lucky charm. and... it's kind of true. you ever seen mulan? remember when the grandma crossed a busy street with a cricket? that basically happened with me and her once. but i was... um. i was the cricket, i think. "

[deerteatime]

you intimidate the fuck outta me but i love talking to you and i want to get to know you better 💜💙🦌

hi anon!!! this is so sweet tysm wtf? i love meeting new people btw my dms are always open :3

[aimsey-updates]

Aimsey replies to things on Twitter Nov 10-13

[alien-magnolia]

You Saved Me

Tw: logan howlett x fem!reader, domestics, description of childbirth/pregnancy, breeding knk, fem/mutant! reader, domestics, Logan being so caring <3 18+ MDNI

A/n: please support your creators and reblog if you love this content <3 xoxo, Liz

——-

You never believed in being absolutely crushed, enamored with someone just from one instance of meeting. Just from one glance. That never fell to be true. Until you met Logan.

He saved you from Striker’s Island, saved you from life in a cage, life as an experiment, carrying you off the grounds of the facility because you had a broken leg. He was so caring, so gentle, with you that day.

You sobbed as the bone in your leg bulged out, itching to relieve itself in the fresh air, away from the mess that was your thigh. “I know it hurts. Just hold on to me, yeah? Won’t let anything happen to you,” he consoles, his gruff voice and warm, heaving chest a comfort to you as the pain from your leg was asinine — slowly killing you.

He was gentle on the night you eloped, as well. The two of you fell enamored with each other in only a span of a few months. You needed each other to heal. The two of you spend some time away from the X-mansion, back in the outskirts of the Colorado mountains.

“Let me carry you over these rocks, bub. Don’t want you to strain yourself,” he chided at you, and once again, those strong, hairy arms you loved so much, picked you up as if you weighed nothing, and carried you to the edge of the cliff. “It’s beautiful here, Logan,” you exclaim in quiet awe. “It’s nice. Private,” he replies, a large hand coming to cup your face. “You saved me, bub. After losing my brother, having all these god-fuckin’ awful memories. Had so much pain,” he sighs. “I know. You’re safe now, Lo,” your hands cup his cheeks, pulling him into a slow and chaste kiss.

—-

“Can’t! Can’t take it anymore — Lo!!,” you squealed, as his broad chest pressed up against your back, all the chest hair leaving marks on your back. His large hands cradling your front, occasionally squeezing at your plush tits, his grunts animalistic. “Doing so well, sweetheart. Taking me so well. Give me one more squeeze bub, I know you can,” he reassures, as you feel like you’re about to explode from his thick, eight inch cock ramming into you, over and over.

You’re in complete bliss as you feel his seed seeping into you. You were fertile. You were his. His claws come out as he finishes, almost touching your neck. He pulled them back quickly, checking if you were okay. “Love you so much, sweetheart. You’re my moon, I’m your Wolverine,” he whispers, as he rolls you over onto your back, wiping you with a towel. He lays down next to you, cradling you on his big chest, in an almost paternal way.

You were safe, you were loved.

He continued being the softest, gentle, man that he could be, with you. Even when the both of you returned to the Mansion. He would constantly check in on you if you were teaching class, advising the students of how you gained control of your telepathy. He would always make sure you went to bed at a reasonable time, and that you wouldn’t over exert yourself while teaching.

His love and care for you was innately fierce, and it grew even more fervorous when you told him you were pregnant. You’ve never seen the man so happy.

He was insanely protective over you. He was your shadow, always around where you were. If another at the mansion even so simply looked at you, he would get defensive. “We got a problem here?,” he would ask, claws slowly inching out. They would shake their head quickly and walk away.

He would hold back your hair as you had morning sickness, constantly ill. He would tell you everything would be okay, as you gained a bit of weight, as your hormones raged out of control.

“What do you need, bub? Water? I can make you somethin’ to eat too, don’t hold out on me, now,” he asks, as he walks into your kitchen after a long day of working with Charles on a new project. You sniffle, “I never knew pregnancy would be this hard, Lo. I’m losing it.” “Hey. You’re still my moon, y’ know. You saved me, sweetheart. Still love ya just the same, even if you’re all heavy with my kid. It’s a new life we made,” he reassures, bringing you in to the safe haven of his chest again. You smile warmly, as he continues to hold you.

He was there with you for the birth. You were in so much pain, and he held you — every step of the way. When the infant was finally out, the three of you spent hours just laying together, having skin to skin contact. “My moon. Did so well f’me, sweetheart,” he tells you, as you have your infant laying on his chest, and your fingers gently touch his beard.

He saved you, after all.

A/n: I want this man in a very bad way, a very, very, very, very bad way. Screaming. References here are from original X men movie and X men origins: Wolverine.

[kjsfandoms]

Lust and Love

Eddie Munson x Reader

Description: Eddie is dating the girl he's been pinning over for years- Chrissy Cunningham. What happens when a new girl enters his life?

Word Count: 3k

--------

Chrissy and Eddie have been dating for a good few months now and they both truly are happy. Eddie had been crushing on her since their middle school talent show and was insanely surprised when she came to him to buy drugs. The Chrissy Cunningham High buying drugs from him? He couldn’t believe it. 

Not long after their first deal, Chrissy started to realize that she really enjoyed Eddie’s company. One thing led to another and soon enough the freak of Hawkins High was dating the queen of Hawkins High.

Though they were dating and loved spending time together they still always made sure to have time for their friends. Hence why Eddie still sits at the hellfire table for lunch (also totally not because the majority of the popular kids hate him). 

One day during lunch as Eddie is sitting at the front of the table, munching on his pretzels, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike join him. “Hey, fellas.” Eddie says as the boys start eating their unpleasantly looking school lunch. They talk about DND for a good minute until Dustin turns around mid-conversation when he notices Y/N sit down at the table next to theirs.

“Hey, Y/N!”

“Hey there, Dustin.” Y/N replies as she takes off her headphones and gives him a friendly smile. Mike and Lucas then notice her as well and say their hellos. Eddie looks back and forth between the boys and this girl, Y/N. He takes in her appearance and notices the eyeliner, dark denim jeans, and the loosely hung Black Sabbath t-shirt. How the hell did these boys know this girl and why has he never seen her around?

She turns back to her own table and puts her headphones back on. He can briefly hear Judas Priest coming through them before being interrupted by Gareth sharing some more DND ideas.

— 

After school he walks Chrissy to her cheer practice before heading over to the drama room to set up for the upcoming hellfire session tonight. In there he spots Dustin who is also usually there sometimes to help Eddie set up. “Hey, man.” Eddie greets. “Hey, Eddie. I already set up everyone’s character sheets.” “Thanks, Henderson.”

As Eddie and Dustin continue to set up, the question from earlier still lingers on Eddie’s mind. Who was that girl? ‘Might as well ask’, he thinks to himself.

“Henderson, who was that girl you guys were saying hi to at lunch?”

“Oh, Y/N? We’ve known her for a few years now. She’s friends with Jonathan Byers so we met her by association. She’s really cool though. I’m surprised you guys have never met considering you have a lot in common. But why do you ask?” Dustin says as he pulls out some dice.

“Was just curious. Never seen her around.”

“Yeah, she can be more on the quiet and loner side, but she’s great when you get to know her.”

—

Hellfire went pretty good as Eddie had been playing that campaign for weeks now. The boys and Erica have already left by now, but he stayed back to clean up. As he’s putting away their chairs he hears the drama room doors open. In walks her. Y/N.

“Oh, hi! Sorry, didn’t know you guys were doing hellfire today. I’m just setting some things up for the talent show this weekend.” She says. That’s when Eddie notices her carrying two guitars and an amp. “Don’t worry, you’re all good. Just cleaning up. You want some help with that?” “Please,” she says with a breathy laugh, “carrying these all at once is not easy.” “Oh, trust me I know. I play in a band.” He says as he walks over to take the amp out of her arm.

They walk to the stage and as Eddie plugs in the amp Y/N sets up the guitars. Wanting to break the silence, Y/N asks, “So, you’re in a band. What do you play?” “Guitar. I also help write some of our songs.” Y/N looks up at him with a smile and says, “No way! I also play guitar and write songs. Though, it’s just for fun. I’m not in a band or anything.” Eddie looks shocked at this. He’s never met a girl that’s been into music like this, not to mention music that he likes. “That’s sick! Think I could hear one of your songs one day?” “Only if I get to hear one of yours.”

Continuing their conversation, they’re eventually interrupted when the drama doors open once again, this time revealing Chrissy. “Hey, babe!” Chrissy cheers and she walks over to give Eddie a hug. “Hey, Chris. How was practice?” Y/N watches as the obvious couple interact, slightly disappointed in the fact that he has a girlfriend. But Y/N isn’t the one to overstep boundaries and disrespect someone’s relationship, so she pushes those thoughts to the back of her mind. 

“Bye, Eddie, it was nice meeting you.” Y/N says with a smile as she starts to leave. 

“You too, Y/N.”

—

It's been a few weeks since the first interaction, but over those few weeks the two have created a friendship. They hang out every now and then, Eddie sharing his time between Y/N, Chrissy, and his hellfire friends.

This day in particular, Y/N and Eddie finally decided to act upon the deal they made when they first met, which was to hear each other's music. Eddie invited her over, but Y/N declined. She thought it’d be rude to hang out one on one with a man who is in a relationship inside his own home. Eddie understood where she was coming from, but assured her Chrissy knew. Still, she stuck to her word and the two agreed to meet up in the drama room after school instead.

“So, you wanna go first?” Y/N asks as the both of them sit criss cross on the stage floor, both holding guitars in their lap. “Why not.” Eddie replies as he takes his guitar pick off his neck and starts strumming. He opted to playing a more simple rock song of his rather than metal as he thought it’d be way too extra. When it came down to Y/N’s turn, she stuck to more of one of her indie-rock songs. 

“You’re better than I thought you’d be.” Eddie says with a playful grin.

 “Same for you, Munson.” 

“I’d like to state for the record, that was an easy song I played. I’m usually ten times more metal.” He says with a slight smirk, “You should really come watch me and my band play some time. We perform at the Hideout on Tuesdays. Maybe you could even perform one of your songs.”

“I’d love to watch you guys play, but as for me performing, hard pass. I’d rather stick to putting on a show for my stuffed animals rather than real people.” Y/N replies with a smile and small laugh.

“Oh, come on! I’ll be there to cheer you on. I bet your stuffed animals can’t do that.”

Y/N let out a dramatic playful gasp and jokingly says, “What?! Peter the pig always makes sure to give me a round-of-applause.” The two share a laugh and Eddie replies, “Fine. You can stick to your stuffed animal crowd. As for me, I can pick you up around seven after I pick up Chrissy, if that’s fine with you?”

“Sounds perfect.”

—

Tuesday comes around and Y/N is patiently waiting on her couch for Eddie. She eventually hears loud heavy rock music coming from outside and takes that as her cue to grab her things, not forgetting her guitar. Even though she said she didn't want to perform, she decided she wanted to surprise Eddie tonight by performing a new song of hers.

She runs outside and slides open the van door and greets Eddie and Chrissy as she goes to sit in the back. Soon enough they’re there and Eddie is parking the van. “I’m just gonna go help the boys set up. Are you guys good with waiting inside for a few minutes?” Eddie asks as they all start getting out of the van. “Yeah, that’s fine, Eds.” Chrissy replies back with a smile. Y/N had a few interactions with Chrissy since becoming friends with Eddie and from what she can tell, she’s the sweetest girl Y/N ever met. Eddie is a real lucky man, she must say.

As Y/N and Chrissy start walking inside, Chrissy notices the guitar case. “Oh, you’re playing too?!” Chrissy cheerfully asks. “Yeah, but don’t tell Eddie. Was gonna surprise him.” Y/N happily replies back, hoping that that didn’t upset Chrissy. Thankfully, Chrissy saw no problem with it and the two headed inside.

Chrissy takes a seat at one of the tables while Y/N places her guitar case next to the stage. They patiently wait and talk for a little bit as they wait for Eddie’s band. Soon enough, they hear the name ‘Corroded Coffin’ being announced on stage.

You watch as Eddie pours his heart and soul into his performance as his passion for guitar shines through. Chrissy wishes she could watch as deeply as you are, but she can’t help but pay attention to how whenever Eddie looks down at their table, his eyes travel to Y/N. 

—

The band finished up their last song and then walked off stage. As Eddie is putting his guitar back in his case, he hears the bar owner announce, “We have one more performance tonight! Please welcome, Y/N!”. Eddie perks up at this and immediately his attention is on the stage. Chrissy sees this. She nervously plays with the ribbon in her hair and looks at how Eddie’s eyes never left you as you walk onto the stage with your guitar.

Chrissy knows Eddie loves her, no doubt about it, but seeing the way Y/N and Eddie have bonded over the past few weeks, she knew his love for her was slowly decaying. They had so much in common, she should have seen it coming sooner. And Chrissy being the sweet girl that she is, couldn’t bring herself to be mad at it. She’s had her fair experiences with love and is well aware that you can’t choose who you fall for. 

She brings her focus back to the stage as Y/N starts playing guitar and eventually singing her most recent lyrics. ‘They even have similar writing styles’, Chrissy thinks to herself. She sighs and looks down at her hands. She loves Eddie, but this isn’t right. Chrissy isn’t the girl he wants anymore. Those years he spent pinning over her have gone to waste, which hurts Chrissy to admit.

She looked over at Eddie and that’s all it took for her to accept what was going to have to happen. His eyes were so full of admiration, lust, and love. The same way he used to look at her. 

Y/N walks off stage and Eddie immediately runs to her and gives her a hug so big he’s picking her off the ground. Y/N is first to break it as she knows Chrissy is right behind them. Chrissy notices this and sadly smiles to herself. She can’t even blame Y/N. She could tell how Y/N always made sure to respect their relationship and set boundaries. Y/N always made sure Eddie was spending more time with Chrissy than he was with her, she always made sure Eddie still walked Chrissy to practice after school even when he would offer to walk Y/N to her car, and she always made sure Eddie never stopped showing his love to Chrissy. 

Chrissy feels a tear slide down her face but quickly wipes it when the two of them start making their way over. 

“You guys were great!”, Chrissy cheers. 

“Thank you.” Both Eddie and Y/N say, almost in sync.

They finish up their night at the hideout with some fries and drinks then eventually head back out to Eddie’s van. Y/N is first to be dropped off which leaves the couple alone.

 “Eddie?”, Chrissy says sadly. 

“Yeah, Chris?” Eddie replies as he head bops to the music playing on the car radio.

“We need to talk.”

—

Eddie pulls up to Chrissy's house and stops the van in her driveway. “So, what did you want to talk about?” He asks.

 “I think we should break up.” 

Eddie sits in shock for a few moments before turning to face Chrissy and asks why. “Eddie, you know I love you and I know you have love for me. But you’re no longer in love with me.”, Chrissy says with watery eyes.

“Woah, woah, woah. What makes you think that, Chris?” Eddie says as he reaches for Chrissy’s hand, only for her to pull it away. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know, Eds. You like her, don’t you?”

At her words, Eddie looks down, refusing to make eye contact. His silence confirms Chrissy’s question. 

“It’s okay, Eddie.” “No, it’s not. It wasn’t supposed to go this way.” Eddie’s eyes start to gather tears as he still has yet to look up at Chrissy. “What do you mean?” Chrissy asks with furrowed eyebrows. “I mean,” he sighs before continuing, “I’ve had a crush on you for as long as I can remember. Never once have I ever felt that way towards another girl, so when me and you got together, I was the happiest man in the world. I truly started to believe that opposites do attract,” He finally looks up at Chrissy as he says, “but I think that’s only because I thought there was no other girl out there that was like me. But then I met Y/N.” Chrissy looks at him with sad eyes, but a soft smile. Eddie returns a sad smile back. “I really am sorry, Chris. This isn’t how I meant for things to go. But I do want you to know I truly was happy with you and I enjoyed our time together.” “It’s okay, Eddie. And me too. I don’t want to trap you in a relationship that you don’t want to be in.”

They sit in awkward, yet somewhat comforting silence for a moment before Chrissy asks one last question, “When did you know you fell for her?” “Today, actually. At the hideout.” This somewhat shocked Chrissy as she would've thought it’d be way earlier, though she lets Eddie continue, “Sure, these past few weeks my crush for her did start to develop, but it felt wrong considering I’m with- or well, I was with you, so I pushed the thought of being with her to the back of my mind. But seeing her today on that stage, I couldn’t hide it from myself anymore.” Eddie says, looking at his lap, somewhat disappointed at himself. He had been chasing Chrissy for years, and once he finally got the girl his heart decides to do a whole u-turn on him.

“Again, Chrissy, I really am sorry.” 

“It’s okay, Eddie. It’s okay. Go get her.” Chrissy says with a happier smile this time. Even though the smile was definitely forced, Eddie smiled back and gave Chrissy one last hug as a goodbye.

Eddie pulls out of Chrissy’s driveway and heads straight for Y/N’s house.

—

He climbs to her bedroom window and knocks. Y/N opens her curtains, not surprised to see Eddie as he surprised her with a similar visit a week ago for a quick smoke sesh. She opens the window and welcomes him in. 

“Hey, Y/N.” He pants out, slightly out of breath from climbing through your window.

“What’s up, Eddie?” Y/N asks. She notices Eddie is fidgeting with the rings on his fingers, a habit of his she recently noticed. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something. About us.” He says, head down as he can’t bring himself to make eye contact. He notices the shift in Y/N’s stance, sensing that she probably has an idea of what he’s about to say. 

“I like you.”

 She sighs before saying, “Eddie-” 

“I know,” Eddie cuts her off, “I know, I know, me and Chrissy. But we broke up.” Y/N looks up at him with shocked eyes and says, “What?! Why would you dump her for me?” Eddie grabs both of Y/N’s hands into his and looks her in the eye as he says, “She dumped me, Y/N.” Y/N takes her hands from his and puts them in her hair, slightly panicking. “No, no, no, no, I feel like a homewrecker, Eddie. This is wrong.” “I know it is, but I can’t control my feelings, Y/N.” 

He sits on the edge of her bed. She takes a seat next to him and deeply sighs. “I don’t even know what to say, Eddie.” He looks down at her and puts her hand in his once again. “Just say how you feel. If you don’t feel the same way, it’s fine. I can get up and leave and pretend this conversation didn’t even happen.” Y/N sighs once again as she responds, “Eddie, I like you too. But this feels so wrong.”

Eddie’s heart lightens at her confession. He smiles to himself before saying, “It’s all up to you, love. If it makes you feel any better, this was all Chrissy’s idea. I don’t want you to think she hates you for taking me away from her. None of this is your fault, okay?” He places a finger under her chin and lifts her face up to meet him eye to eye. He can tell how her eyes are full of so many different emotions right now, but he gives her a reassuring look.

“As much as I hate to admit it, I want to be with you, Eddie.”

“That’s all you had to say, sweetheart.” He replies with a smile, slowly bringing her face to his and letting their lips connect.

Y/N feels the guilt seep into her gut as she kisses Eddie, but can’t bring herself to stop. She had been crushing on this boy the moment she laid eyes on him. Sitting at the table next to his was totally not on purpose. She of course feels for Chrissy, but when Eddie and Y/N walked into school the next day hand in hand, she saw Chrissy give her a genuine smile and a thumbs up, and all of a sudden the guilt slowly started to disappear. 

[n0tamused]

hello! could you do a Jiyan beginning to somewhat develop draconic traits out of the blue and their s/o helping him through it, like, tail & horns popping out, growing canines, enhanced senses and unconsciously exhibiting a few behaviors like being more protective and practicing courting rituals for his s/o despite them already being his wife + bonus if some other character or the city takes notice of this ^^

A/n: Hope you like this anon, this was a really cute idea, thank you for requesting! <3

Contents: Jiyan x Reader, gn reader, the reader is referred to as Jiyan's wife, Baizhi cameo lol, fluff, a tiny bit suggestive if you squint

“What’s this?” Your fingers grasp his cheek and turn his head to the side, taking a closer look to the light sheen his skin held now, taking a moment to realize those are scales. Jiyan’s golden eyes looked at you in surprise, his pupils shrinking before dilating when your warmth seeped into his skin. A small throaty ‘hm’ came from him as you inspected him.

“It’s.. nothing.. Just something I woke up with today, but nothing to stir concern” he replied, his hand laying on top of yours and bringing the palm to his lips to kiss before letting you go.  It was true, he already had formed scales on his other cheek from before, three little petal-shaped things that were so smooth you could barely feel them apart from his own skin.

You didn’t press further, only nodding and going along with your morning routine with him. 

-It was later when other things began to form that you asked again, ‘what is this?’ and Jiyan began to feel less and less secure in his answers

-It started off with those scales spreading to other parts of his body - his forearms, shins and lower back. They were faded and not as noticeable, and most of those he could hide underneath his uniform too

-Next came the sharper teeth. He usually had a sharper set of canines, but this noticeable change nearly cost him his tongue while eating. And when he was playfully nipping your neck when you were making dinner and he came to hug you from behind. They made you wince, and he immediately backed off, concerned

-Horns and tail were something Jiyan had expected at this rate, yet he was shocked nonetheless to be woken  up by you shaking his shoulders, saying how something was squeezing your leg - that something being this newly formed tail of his. As he went to sit up he could see you looking at him with your jaw slack as you stared at the top of his head, the two pretty horns sitting elegantly even in face of your shock. 

    “Are you going to say this is nothing again?”      “.......”

-It was worrying at first, since neither of you knew whether this was some bad omen or just a side effect of his resonance abilities. If these were some signs pointing to a potential overclocking, which was a thought that most scared you, then it’d be best to have them checked out by a professional

-It would be the first time Jiyan’s usual demeanor failed him, and he proved rather stubborn in accepting your offer of going to see Baizhi, or any other doctor for that matter - Mortefi? His mother? - anyone! Yet, what he opted to do was grumble and curl up in the bed, his long tail training after him like a big snake.

-Fed up with this new behavior from your lover, and worried all the way to your bones, you called Baizhi in, promising to pay her double if she just gave a house visit - Baizhi was understanding and never intended to refuse your request anyway, and your hastiness and pleas only urged her to stop by sooner.

-One thing is certain when she saw Jiya - she was taken aback and lost for words.

-You’tan, her loyal companion, would curiously look at Jiyan, its pearl-like eyes staring at him as its big fluffy body flew around him. 

-Jiyan was rather grumpy during the entire check up, his pupils like that of a cat with slits for pupils, his hands forming a fist in his lap. This was nothing short of irritating for him - and confusing. Why was he acting like this? He never found Baizhi’s presence so unbearable before, but he tried to reason that by saying that this was his house, and naturally anyone would feel a little imposed on if someone entered their home, where they were their most vulnerable arguably

-Baizhi didn’t have too many answers for you, but could say that this was nothing fatal or dangerous, her companion also found nothing that could indicate anything deteriorating within Jiyan.

-Relieved, but filled with no more clarity than before, you walked Baizhi out the door after the check up before returning to Jiyan who still sat at the edge of the bed, his darkened eyes glaring at you as you entered

-The tip of his tail flicked back and forth in frustration, but you only huffed in return, scolding him for his stubbornness, asking whether there was something that happened on the battlefield he didn’t confide in you for - but as a response all you got was being pulled into his lap.

-He noses at your neck, inhaling your scent as his arms wrap around your midriff, just happy to feel you close to him again. He sighs in relief, his face not moving from the juncture of your neck, and his tail waves from side to side on top of the bed, showing satisfaction and mirth, while also making a mess of the bed sheets. 

-You question him again, pulling back just enough to look down at him as you sit in his lap, but Jiyan spends little time in moving down to put his chin on your chest, looking up at you, and although it was a little awkward for his neck he didn’t complain or show any signs of discomfort. He only gave you a small smile before kissing under your chin

“Nothing.. I’m fine, did you not hear what Baizhi said?.. If you ask me, this will pass soon enough. Might enjoy it while it lasts, no?”

-The rest of the morning was spent curled up with him, your limbs intertwined and his tail around your body in one way or another, cuddling closer and closer and closer still until he could nuzzle his cheek against yours or kiss over your shoulders or neck again

-During the time you were cooking, he proved quite clingy too, but then he’d randomly disappear somewhere within the house only to return with the wedding ring.

“You forgot to put this on” “Hm, but I’m cooking, I don’t want to get it dirty” you respond, your brows furrowed as you kneaded some bread dough, your eyes catching a look of hurt on his face and disappointment. Jiyan sighed and nodded before setting the ring on the dining table. “You can put it on afterwards then” he replies and comes up behind you, putting his chin on your shoulder before his hands sneak underneath your to knead the dough for you. You gave a huff of a chuckle, as he effortlessly trapped you in his embrace here.

-Jiyan didn’t wish to leave the house, not wanting people to see this changed appearance. There were enough gossips about him already and he didn’t need more spreading about. But he wasn’t opposed to sitting in the backyard, soaking in the sun alongside you. The fence was high enough to protect from any wandering eyes.

-If you were to sit in the chair and doze off, you’d come back to Jiyan, assorting little tiny rocks of various colors long your thigh, balancing them on in little columns or in a simpler pattern, smiling at you innocently when you look at him. 

-This… dragon version of your lover was slowly growing on you.. You had to wonder if he could control this appearance, or if it will return again  after it disappears? 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[ginevrapng]

boyfriend!neville loves overstimulating you. there's nothing better than having his sweet girlfriend lying on his bed while he pulls multiple orgasms out of you. "neville please i can't take any more," you whine. you've just came for the fourth time and he's already touching you again, pressing two of his fingers inside you.

neville hushes you and kisses down your body before taking one of his nipples in your mouth and biting. you squeal and grab hold of his hair. "you know the rules petal keep your hands down or i'll tie them up." you keep your hands to your side and do your best to listen to neville. neville removes his mouth from your nipple but starts placing kisses down your body. he holds your body down by your love handles, occasionally squeezing your soft skin between his fingers. he always touches you in a way that makes you feel loved and special, like you're the most beautiful girl in the world. "you're so bloody pretty petal. you look like a goddess." your face heats up at the compliment.

neville continues leaving kisses down your body until he reaches your pussy and pushes two fingers back inside you causing you to gasp and grab hold of his arm. neville tuts at your action as you go to apologise, " 'm sorry nev just feels s'good.

"keep your hands by your side, i'm not going to tell you again. do you understand?" he says sternly still fingering you. you quickly nod your head. neville gently pinches one of your plush thighs with his other hand. "do you understand?"

"i-i understand. i promise i'll be good nev!" you reply and clench your hands into fists, consciously keeping them by your side. neville hums and places a loving kiss on your cheek, before mumbling against your cheek about how you're such a girl good for him.

neville lowers down your body and starts giving you head, precisely, just the way you like it, the way that leaves your toes curling and your voice hoarse as you scream his name. neville sucks your clit all while continuing plunging two fingers inside your pussy. "please neville, it's too much! i can't take it!" you whine loudly holding tightly onto the bedsheets.

"you can take it flower," he tells you, you can feel the vibrations of his words against your clit causing you to shiver. neville holds the back of your thick thighs and wraps his arms around them before pulling you even closer to him and returning his hands to your love handles and cunt. he feels you clench around him tightly and he spots the other telltale signs that you're about to cum. your cute noises are getting louder and you're breathing heavier, you're squirming more and squeezing your eyes hard. "let go f'me flower. you can do it." the coil that was previously winding up inside of you snaps and you hips arch up as you shake, your eyes go blurry as you cum again for the fifth time in an hour.

"good girl, good girl," he strokes your arm and kisses your hip. as you calm down and your breathing evens out he gently rubs your clit.

tears stream down your face, "no, no, no, nev please. i can't."

he kisses your hip again. "one more petal. you can give me another one right?" you whimper and nod your head before asking for a kiss.

[mrs-weasley-reid]

hi hiiiii! I was wondering if you could do a Hotch x reader where there’s maybe an age gap and it’s based on Peter by Taylor swift? I’m obsessedddd with that song. Thankssss <3

PROMISES NEVER TO KEEP

Aaron Hotchner x reader

Synopsis: He said he'll change. You believed he'd change. It's no one's fault, really. Waiting forever is just too long for heartache. WARNING: angst. pure free writing. 700+ word count. not proofread!!! A/N: tysm for this req!!! The age gap was vague, and honestly, the gap is like 9-10 yrs, r around late 20s. Also can anyone believe I sat, played the song, wrote along, and called it a day? The power of a TS song is just unmatched. I strongly suggest listening to the song while reading it.

  Aaron’s late.

  Again.

  You stare at the empty seat across from you. Then, glance at the loud ticking over the mantle. Ten past eleven. Dinner was eight.

  Deep inhales mixed with salty tears you aren’t aware have been flowing for the past five minutes enter your lungs. There’s a tug in your chest that you swear to be a phantom. You smile ever so softly with a sniff as you tuck your head to study the cold dinner on your plate.

  Was it too last minute? Was it on you?

  You told Aaron about dinner two months ago. He said he had it written down and made a note on his phone’s calendar. He said he’d make it this time. Was he lying?

  The pit of your stomach sinks. And you wonder what else he lies about.

  Hot, achy streams trail down a path on your cheeks. You stand and clear out the table, covering his serving and throwing out yours. You watch as the residue drains down the sink.

  Aaron promised.

  And you believed it like any other promises he’d broken before.

  And you’ll believe him again and again and again until there are no more promises he could outswore.

  And it’s depressing because you know you’ll forgive him every single time like a chore.

  And it’s heartbreaking because he’ll make the same promises.

  And it hurts to know he’ll never keep any of it.

  Because he’s Aaron Hotchner. The man who saves lives. The man who put away monsters. The man who’s done many good things to the world. The man who caught your heart and dropped it many times, just for him to fix it with a consolation smile.

  Aaron once said you're his favorite book. He's read you enough times to know the important lines in mind. Just never enough to notice the spaces in between by heart. Maybe it's your fault for being easy to read. Or you're just not smart enough to read Aaron. Not mature enough to understand his limbs of idioms.

  And Aaron tries. God knows you try. He does his best, and you do yours. It's no one's fault that his best is so little, and your best goes unnoticed.

  You zip around your luggage, taking a moment to see how empty the drawer Aaron saved just for you. What will he put there now?

  A familiar tune rings. The tightness on your chest, along with the sobs that echo in the empty bedroom, muffle his call into a far buzzing sound.

  With a sharp gulp to clear the ache in your throat, you pick up, “[Hey, honey…]”

  He won’t show.

  Again.

  But he promised. Your heart cries in agony. And you hug your middle like a child who deserves everything the world can offer as you reply, I know.

  Where are you?

  When are you coming home?

  Why aren’t you here?

  “Hey, sweet man,” Comes out of your lips, masking a shaky sob.

  There’s a sigh on the other end, “[I’m sorry. I won’t make it to dinner. Did you wait long?]”

  You always do. You wait until the daylight peeks in the window. Wait for him to return every single time.

  “After almost burning the house down. I think you would’ve waited longer if you had come.” The laugh comes out damp. You like to think you’re getting better at it. Lying to make him feel better.

  He hums. “[I’m sure it still would’ve tasted amazing.]” Aaron wouldn’t have known. He hasn’t known what your amazing cooking tastes like for a long time because he’s never shown up for a very long time.

  You wipe your tears and take a deep breath before staring into the place you’d once ached to call your home. Reminded by a series of his apologies and empty promises. The place where you burned all by yourself like a candle in the middle of winter.

  And now’s the final flicker of your light.

  “[Still there, honey?]”

  You give your best to sound naturally groggy, “Sorry, handsome… I had an early morning.” A lie over your breath.

  “[Go ahead and rest. I’ll see you when I get home?]”

  You grab the handle of your luggage. Memories of his sweet words flicker, clutching onto false hopes.

  You make a promise that you’ll call him to explain.

  To end things maturely.

  To offer closure.

  To meet acceptance.

  To move on.

  You promise to grow better as a person so that you’d understand an increment of the reason why he can’t make you his person.

  You promise to cross Aaron’s path again one day. When he’s old and gray. When you don’t need to pray. When you know, he’ll stay.

  Placing the spare keys on the bowl, your fingers press the switch to dark.

  “See you when you get home.”

  It’s a promise you won’t keep.

hotch masterlist | masterlist

[dilfl0v3rss]

poly basketball player ony and aran

YES

having two very successful professional athletes as your boyfriends was a blessing and a curse. they were caring, smart, passionate about what they were doing, and gave you everything you could ever dream of having. there hasn’t been a day where you felt any less of the queen you already are and from the outside looking in, these men were calm and delicate when it came to you. always around to keep you safe and happy. you were as happy as can be with them, but every relationship has their issues. the main one in yours was their competitiveness.

“i won nigga get off the sticks and go wash the dishes” aran yelled, pointing to the kitchen where you were standing. you had told them an hour ago to wash the dishes and instead of just doing it, they decided to bet a game of 2k on it. the yelling and screaming coming from the living room irritated you so much that you washed them on your own to try to drown out the noise. as ony walked up to you, his tall figure already saw over your head that the dishes were done. a remorseful look on his face as he leaned down to give you a kiss on the cheek. “my fault mama, thank you” you rolled your eyes, ignoring him before walking towards your room.

this was a constant thing in your house whether it be who dressed better, who was smarter, who should get the bigger plate during breakfast, and the most common, who loved you more.

“i love her so much, i bought her a plane when her flight got delayed” ony smirked as he talked, his big hands rubbing on your back as you laid your stomach on his thighs, the rest of your body laying on aran’s lap. his big hands rubbing all over you ass while he replied. “that ain’t nun nigga. i love her so much, i bought her a house in every state so she don’t ever gotta worry about sleeping in a hotel when my matches are far away” ony rolled his eyes at his boyfriend, giving him a “duhh” look before replying. “how you think she be getting to the houses nigga? she takes the plane….dumbass” aran looked away, an embarrassed look on his face as he thought about what ony just said.

“well my dick is bigger nigga, now what?” the dark skin male laughed, his hand leaving your back to cop a feel of aran's manhood. he gave him a knowing look. “be furreal nigga y'know my shit bigger. that was cute tho” you rolled your eyes, sighing loudly as you got up from the both of them. “ohh my goddd do y'all ever just shut up?” you spit before walking away to your room. before you reached the door a small smirk graced your features as you came up with an idea to help them get along. “both of y'all dicks is little so ion even know why y'all arguing furreal”your words brought a mix of confusion and anger to both of their faces before ony and aran turned to look towards each other. silently communicating there next actions before getting up and making their way towards you. “we gon see about that”

your boyfriends argued almost everyday, using there bantering as a way to show their love for each other. you knew they'd never downplay each others love for you for real, always in the others defense in the media when different blogs would try to put them against each other. they always saved their arguing for when they were in private or in the comfort of their home and when at home there was only one way to shut them up.

“mhmm i know ma” aran mumbled as he listened to your pretty whines. his big hands outstretched on your ass while you made out with ony. all three of you sat on your knees as aran fucked you from behind and you stroked ony's dick in front go you with your pretty hand, your other hand on ony's his shoulder to keep yourself from falling over. “how she feel baby?”he moaned as he felt your hand tighten around him. aran matched his boyfriends moan with one of his own. “good...fuck...real good da” his dick twitched inside of your wet walls as he watched his the darkskin male tightly grip your neck before giving you a sloppy kiss. ony's eyes never left aran's as he let his tongue slide in and out of your wet mouth.

aran knew was ony was doing, purposely teasing him to bring him closer to his orgasm, but he had just the thing for that. his big brown hands gripped your hips before he started deepening his strokes, his pace increasing to get you to moan into ony's mouth just the way he loved. "aauughh fuck papa m'finna cum" you whined, your hand slowing to a stop on ony's dick as you felt your orgasm approaching. before you knew it, there was a hard slap brought to your ass by aran, his thrusts never faltering as he spoke. “don't stop touching him mama, daddy gotta cum too” a smirk grew on ony's face at the interaction, his dick twitching in delight at your obedience when you brought your hand back to him.

you were enjoying every minute of this. letting the men you love take control over your body and bring you to some of the best orgasms you'll ever received. ony squeezed your neck, pulling you from your thoughts as he brought his lips to your ear. “throw that shit back mama, make em feel real good so he can fill you up. you want papa to fill you up right?” you quickly nodded your head, listening to his command instantly. the feeling of your ass meeting his thrusts made aran moan, his release getting closer and closer as he felt your arousal begin to drip to the sheets. your walls fluttered repeatedly as you felt your orgasm begin to rush through you. "m'cummin oh my god m'cumminnn" your pretty cry brought ony to his orgasm as well, his dick pushing out thick streams of cum that rolled down his tip and onto your hand.

aran began to deepen his thrusts, using your release as lubricant to move quicker inside you. “fuck mama ima give you all this nut, hold still f'me” you tried your best to listen, stilling you body from shaking in overstimulation as you felt all of his inches move in and out of you. as aran fucked you, you watched ony make his way to his side, letting you fall to the bed before giving aran a sloppy kiss on the lips. his hand rubbed up and down aran's chest just the way he liked as he continued to let his tongue dance inside his mouth. in no time he was cumming, his thick load shooting into you had he slowed his thrusts. “thank you da” aran sighed as he caught his breath. ony gave him another slow kiss on the lips, his hand still on his chest as he spoke. “of course baby”

as they brought their attention to you, they noticed that you were already asleep. chuckles flew from both of them as they got off the bed to clean up. “where you goin?” aran asked as he watched ony begin to carry your towards the bathroom. “we finna take a bath while you clean the sheets” the brownskin man sucked his teeth before walking towards your sleeping form in his boyfriends arms. “you took a bath wit her last time, you said you was gon take a shower wit me this time after we bathe her together” ony rolled his eyes, before turning back around to go in the bathroom. “that was before you made me wash your dishes nigga” aran opened his mouth to argue but was cut off by your sleepy, annoyed voice. "if y'all don't shut up y'all gon be together on the couch" the two men looked at each other, silently communicating that they did't want to have to share a couch between their big tall bodies.

“my fault ma”

[nevaeh-daughterofvalcarol]

🎶✨️when you get this, put 5 songs you actually listen to, then publish. Send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers 🎶✨️ no pressure!!

My music taste is very much going everywhere kinda wanted to add some classic in there too but it says 5 music so 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

[prolix-yuy]

Olive Branch

Pairing: Francisco Morales x F!Reader

Summary: If Frankie doesn't like olives, then what does he like?

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: T, alcohol consumption, mention of drug use, incredibly tame for me, hints of spice. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: I was challenged by @happypedrohours to write a story involving Frankie and olives, and what do you know, these are two of my favorite things! I was snickering to myself the entire time as the olive metaphor rolled out, but what the hell, we're gonna keep it in! Enjoy my friends, and Happy Pedro Hours!

Cross-posted on AO3

When it slides in front of you, you know it’s a good one. You watched the bartender make one at the end of the bar and it was just how you like it. Dry, cold, three olives on a hardy metal toothpick. You were practically salivating by the time you ordered your own and it slid in front of you, shining like the Holy Grail.

“Didn’t know you liked martinis.”

Head whipping around, you stutter out a laugh as Frankie slides in next to you. He perches an elbow on the bar, free shoulder coming close as the crowd tucks you into each other. Your eyes dart to his crinkled brown ones, then to your drink, and back again to distract from the proximity. His hand is tucked into his faded jeans, but it wouldn’t take much to cup your elbow or wrap around your waist. 

“On special occasions,” you quip, tossing your head at Will and Tatiana surrounded by your friends. She’s showing the girls the ring, the men clapping hands on Will’s back and making him laugh. The air holds the fresh taste of new beginnings.

“Never had much of a taste for ‘em. Just gasoline in a glass,” he replies. Your face must be ten levels of indigent with how quickly his eyebrows shoot up.

“Do I look like a car to you?” 

Frankie’s eyes twinkle, and it flips your stomach.

“Definitely a hot rod.”

You laugh it off, rolling your eyes. He’s never serious, after all. He likes to ply you with compliments just short of flirty and leave you high and dry at the end of the night. The first time it stung so hard you didn’t go out with the boys for weeks. 

“He’s just a little fucked in the head, don’t take it too personal,” Santi told you when he finally wrestled the reason for your absence out. “Can’t stop chasing anything messy with two legs. Last girlfriend was a cokehead, even worse before that. He likes ‘em pretty and crazy, and he bags ‘em left and right. They always leave him worse for wear.” Santi’s eyes narrowed over his knowing smirk. “So now you like him?”

“Fuck no,” you spat out, arms folded tight. “I don’t deal with boys who play games.”

Yet here you are, again, with Frankie, ready to roll the dice yet again. At least he doesn’t know you’ve still got a soft spot for him ready to land.

“I’ll ignore the fact that you called Hendricks gasoline,” you scold, sliding your gleaming prize closer on its soggy black napkin. “There’s also vermouth, and olives.” You take a sip, the warmth of the gin and sharp salt of the charcuterie mainstay sweeping across your tongue. Frankie’s eyes drifting down to your lips on the rim of the glass.

What a cocktease. At least most men who eyefuck you actually follow through.

“Shaken, not stirred?” he quips in a rough approximation of a Scottish accent. You snort, instantly regretting it as the burn of brine and alcohol decimates your sense of smell. Trying to hide it under a tiny cough, Frankie’s face turns to the bar.

“Not much of an olive guy either, so you're 0 for 3 on convincing me.” 

You don’t know why, but your stomach sinks briefly as you gingerly twist the glass stem between your fingers. 

“Perfect, more for me then,” you shoot back brightly, but he looks back a fraction too soon before the disappointment flits away. 

“C’mon, you know you were never gonna change my mind,” he teases, jostling you with his shoulder as he motions for the bartender. 

“Never said I was,” you add absentmindedly. 

Frankie will never be an option. He’s made it clear time and time again that he doesn’t choose you. But sometimes, when you let your mind drift, you think about how it could happen. Some dark room where he finally finds something he’s been looking for. The brushing of noses and near-misses before one of you finally acts and you’d know what his lips feel like. Then he would lick into your mouth and his flavor would dance with acidity and botanicals on your tongue and he’d moan at how good you taste.

But he doesn’t even like olives. Or you.

Frankie’s drink is a golden lager, malt rising to your nose. You like beer too. You like a lot of things. You could sit at this bar and talk about your favorite drinks for hours. You’re not just the martini girl. You’re so much more. 

You need some air. Your daydreams are getting in the way of enjoying the night and Frankie’s none the wiser, so best keep it that way.

“I’m gonna bring my gasoline olives back to the party,” you say, ducking out from Frankie’s body without waiting for a reply. Maybe catching a glimpse of surprise, you strut back to the girls. The warmth of their excitement and enthusiasm reinvigorate your tight throat. 

Your drink dwindles slowly, savoring the clean flavor and crushing the olives one by one between your teeth. One of the girls tries the dregs of your glass and wants one of her own, so you weave back to the bar so you can help her order. A holler rises from the boys around Will, and when you look you catch Frankie’s face again. He’s all beaming smiles, eyes barely visible from behind his crows feet and gleaming teeth. He catches your eye and his smile softens, and over the din of the bar he mouths “you good?”

You nod. Of course you are. What would Frankie know about that?

The drinks come, followed by cheers and hums of contentment. You will definitely be tipping well tonight. Before you can make it back to the group Benny cuts off your path, swooping one arm behind your back and your free hand into his. 

“No no no, Benny, I’ll spill!” you shriek, feeling the telltale wetness of a sloshed drink over your fingers. “Shit, I think I got it on the back of your shirt…”

“Ah, I’ve had worse,” Benny says, mock-dancing with you to the barely audible music. 

“How’s Will?” you ask, leaning over his shoulder to snag a healthy sip of the martini. Now a more manageable level, you let Benny lead you away from the bar.

“So in love it makes me sick.” You raise an eyebrow. “In a good way!” he adds, turning you so the man in question is visible. Tatiana’s tucked under his arm, and his mouth drifts to kiss the top of her head.

“You know what, I get it,” you agree, the both of you snickering as the tempo of the music changes. It might be a Hozier song? It’s hard to tell over the babble of voices.

“How are you?” he asks, feigned innocence a red flag flicked in front of your eyes.

“Peachy. Why?”

Benny’s hand squeezes yours in a soothing rhythm.

“Hey, don’t bite my head off. Fish mentioned you seemed down. Something about olives?”

The flash of heat rocketing to your face has to be combatted, so you choose comedy.

“Oh yeah, the fact that they never give me enough in my damn drink. Could drive a woman to tears!” Your put-on mid-atlantic accent doesn’t sell it. Benny chews on the inside of his cheek before leaning to bring his mouth to your ear.

“I know you’re gonna tell me to fuck off…”

“Then you don’t have to say anything.”

“...but you and I both know this ain’t about olives.”

You lean back, jaw set and eyes cool.

“You’re right. It’s about absolutely nothing.”

“Hey…”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Benny lets go and you down the rest of your drink. It burns and you hate yourself for it, but it feels good to let liquid frustration carve through the center of you. 

“It’s late, and bar snacks aren’t gonna soak up the hangover I’ll have tomorrow. I’m gonna say bye to Will and Tatiana, get a cheeseburger, and go home.” Benny puts his hands on his hips, blue eyes filled with a brotherly care you know better than to try and tamp down.

“And it’s not about olives?”

Plucking the toothpick full of metaphor out of the glass, you point it at him.

“It’s not about olives.”

Benny relents, and walks you over to the happy couple. Promises of more drinks and a bachelorette party are half shouted before you pick through the crowd and exit the front of the bar. 

The air is just starting to get cool, alcohol thrumming in your blood. You love the way a martini buzz feels, your mind crystal and your body sharp as glass. It’s different from the smoky haze of scotch or the sluggish thudding of beer. Martinis make you diamond.

Which is why you notice Frankie immediately upon his exit, even though you can tell he wanted to go unseen for a few moments longer. He fumbles his hands into his pockets, ambling up to stand beside you while you glare at the Uber app.

“Got a ride coming?” 

“Eventually.”

He nods and stares at the toes of his boots, which you observe surreptitiously. The progress bar keeps filling and emptying as the silence stretches. 

“I’m sorry for shitting on your drink.”

You can’t help but snap your face to him, eyebrows raised.

“I sure hope you didn’t shit on my drink.”

The poor choice of words quirks the corner of your mouth as Frankie tries to recover.

“Jesus Christ, I mean…you know what I mean! I didn’t mean to be a dick,” he says, now contemplating the sky with resignation. There's still a fight in you, but you try to meet halfway.

“S’all good, I shit on your terrible beers all the time. We’re even.” You glance back at the app and shut it out of frustration. You’ll try again in a minute. 

“I don’t hate olives, either,” he rushes out. You roll your eyes, shoulders slumping. God, could they just let this go? You’re embarrassed enough about it. Before you can make another joke, another deflection, he barrels on.

“To be honest, I’ve never tried…olives. I see them all the time - at parties, at the bar, at friend’s houses - and there always seems to be some reason not to try them. I’m always having something else, or just had something, and I don’t want to…I’m afraid if I try the olives, I’ll really like them. And I don’t know what I’ll do if that happens. And that’s been scaring me off from even trying.” 

Frankie looks up at you, mouth parted and brow furrowed, as realization rises slow and fizzy.

“Because I think I could really, really like them. Enough that I’d want them all the time. But I’ve never had anything like that before. And I don’t want to hurt the…olives.”

Your heart is thudding in your ears, lower lip close to a betraying tremble before you force it between your teeth..

“You don’t want to hurt…the olives,” you parrot back and Frankie sighs, lifting his cap enough to rake his fingers through his hair before resettling it. 

“Fuck it, you know what I mean, right? It’s not about…it’s not about the fucking olives,” he says, and one of his hands wraps around your shoulder. It’s hot and strong and your chest swells at the touch.

“If it’s not about the olives,” you say, tentative, voice dropping into a lower register. He’s closer, almost as close as in the bar, thumb worrying back and forth over your shirt. “Then why don’t you show me what it is about?”

You expected more hesitation, but with that permission he lunges for you, cupping your face with both hands as he crashes your lips together. It’s fast and messy, teeth pressed against your lips and his tongue slipping in to taste. He groans and your knees go weak, head spinning worse than any drink could hope to do. You clutch the lapels of his canvas jacket and pull him closer, sweeping strokes of your kiss filling your mouth with bitter hops. With a lurch he pulls back.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles against your lips, but he continues to clutch at you, arm banding around your waist to keep you snug against him. 

“For what?” you tease, sliding your nose along his proud profile. 

“Takin’ so fuckin’ long.” His teeth graze your jaw lightly, heat pooling in a place that’s demanding a more private location for proper penance.

“I think you owe me a lot more than one very good kiss, after everything you’ve put me through,” you contemplate, his grip tightening. 

“Still waiting for your ride?”

Your fingers wander to the nape of his neck, and his curls are just as soft as you imagined.

“No.”

A gentler kiss follows, broader, somehow still able to make your head spin.

“Good, you’re coming home with me so I can properly apologize.”

The next morning as Frankie opens his front door for his breakfast delivery, he finds a pristine jar of olives resting on his welcome mat. The scrawled note - better start getting a taste for these! - is clearly in Benny’s handwriting. The memory of your body, soft and sleeping in his bed, pulls him back inside. 

After everything that got him here, he could learn to like olives.

END

"This is where righteousness ends It’s a relief to wave this overdue white flag and My blind spots have tortured you enough How much salt could I pour in To think that I called myself a friend."

Alanis Morissette, Olive Branch

[rosegoldrosieee]

so high school

while flesh-eating walkers had seemingly crushed your long-held dreams of experiencing romance as a teenager, carl grimes made you feel so high school.

♡ carl x f!reader, fluff, implied suggestiveness, friends to lovers (sorta), ambiguously alexandria, reader has a spine

a/n: wrote this yesterday hiding in the bathroom during lunch on my school-licensed chromebook for maximum immersion

it was times like these, standing outside on someone’s back porch to get away from boisterous conversations and forced interactions, that reminded you of stupid high school chick flicks with cheesy one-liners, twenty-something actors playing sixteen-year-olds, and predictable love triangles.

you never got to navigate and, most importantly, surmount pubescent awkwardness, nor gush about crushes at sleepovers, because by your twelfth birthday, the dead somehow began to roam the earth.

out of sheer necessity, you’d eschewed any shot at teenage romance for survival skills, and effectively turned into a wallflower when you rejoined civilized society.

a gentle tap on your shoulder snapped you out of your reverie.

“hey.”

there stood the very reason you were even thinking about early-2000s romance movies in the first place: a chronically flannel-clad, one-eyed cowboy, notorious for merely sharing the same last name as the de facto leader of alexandria, now two feet in front of you holding a shot glass of fruit punch.

“didn’t mean to scare you.” he says with a sheepish grin plastered on his face.

“the only thing that’s scaring me is what you’re using as a vessel for your fruit punch.”

“everyone used up all the solo cups so i had to dig around in the cabinets,” he replies nonchalantly, holding up the glass. “why are you out here?”

why were you out here?

…

you can’t even remember.

“i don’t know.”

it’s hard to think, much less remember, anything when carl’s looking at you like that, arms crossed and leaning forward onto the banister, blue eyes boring into your own.

“did you even hear me?” he taps your hand that’s resting on the ledge gently, his lips quirking up with the ghost of an amused smile.

your eyes flick up to meet his attentively. “…what?”

“wow, you’re really out of it today,” he laughs, sipping from his shot glass. “forget it.”

you shift your weight, shaking your head. “well, i’m listening now, so tell me.”

his fingers are fidgeting with yours, you realize. tapping gently on your knuckles. intentionally, unintentionally? it was cute either way.

he tilts his head. “i just want to know what you’re thinking about.”

you shrug, as dismissively as you possibly can. swallowing down the butterflies that threatened to crawl into your throat.

“getting away from this stupid ass party.”

he raises an eyebrow, tone skeptical. “and?”

you narrow your eyes. it was a bad habit, using vitriol to mask your emotions. you were well aware. “what do you mean, ‘and’?”

“‘cause you’re smart,” his lips curl into a smirk. “that’s not all you’re thinking about. you’re never all…spaced out, like this.”

fuck you, carl grimes.

“i’m just tired,” you fib. your eyes drift to your hand, intertwined with carl’s, before quickly looking away. “you’re reading into it too much.”

“only because you’re not acting normal,” he teases, a dimpled grin gracing his features before he adds, “and you definitely would’ve pulled away by now if you didn’t want this.”

you steal a glance at your entangled hands again, heat rising to your face before you ask, skeptical, “what are you trying to do, exactly?”

“what do you think i’m trying to do?”

you glance to the side furtively, tongue-tied, still able to hear the muffled revelry through the shut screen door, before your eyes trace over his features again.

you wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face so badly.

tugging at the collar of his unbuttoned flannel, you shift your weight to the balls of your feet, connecting your lips to his fruit-punch-stained ones.

you swear you’ll never drink hawaiian punch, or any drink with red-40 in the ingredients list, again without imagining the taste of him lingering on your lips.

expression tinged with a gradient of conflicting emotions when you pull away, you open your mouth to say something— and then he pulls you in this time, words dying in your throat with a soft whimper.

the party fades into an afterthought until you hear the screen door open just around the corner, thudding against the frame. quickly, you disentangle yourself from his arms, faces still flushed.

it’s rick, his rugged, stubbled face and piercing gaze (so it must be hereditary, you wagered) flickering between the two of you suspiciously, nodding at you curtly.

“carl.”

thank god for your quick reflexes — those, at least, hadn’t deteriorated just because you were sheltered by alexandria.

carl swallows, freckled face flushed as he quickly looks at you, panic etched on his face. the evidence of your little affair conveniently disguised by the shadow of his cowboy hat and the darkness of the night.

“dad, can’t we stay a little longer?”

“think the party’s ‘bout over.”

you peer into the ajar casement windows, abandoned solo cups decorating the vacant living room, watching abraham stagger into the mudroom and nearly take a shelf with him when he topples forward. rosita, unamused, rolls her eyes, grumbling something unintelligible before dragging him along.

before the grimes family gets into a fight, you take it upon yourself to leave first, retrieving your cardigan that was hanging on the banister. “see you around, carl. bye, mr. grimes.”

both of them wave as you disappear into tree-lined streets, intermittently illuminated by uniform streetlights.

as soon as you’re out of earshot and out of sight, you let out a pleasant sigh, smiling from ear to ear like an absolute idiot as your hands reached up to feel your flushed cheeks, still hot to the touch as you giggle to yourself at the incredulity of it all.

at home, once the high had worn off, or more realistically, ebbed for the time being, you shed your cardigan, scrutinizing the crimson patches blooming on the side of your neck in the mirror, smiling like a fool.

these were the only kind of bites you’d ever tolerate.

[elletheactualmenace]

Was It Worth It?

Pairing: Bruce Wayne(battinson) x fem!reader

Summary: Missed breakfasts turn into confrontations.

Warnings: Bruce being annoying, Bruce starts trying, short tempers

Word Count: 1.2k

a/n: This ones shorter but I think it’s a good step forward in mending the relationship. Anyways enjoy part 2.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

After that night, you start sleeping in separate rooms. It is lonely, but compared to Bruce’s usual late nights, it wasn’t much different, so you don’t let your mind ponder the lonely feeling too long.

Everything is an unnatural quiet. It’s eerie. The whole building feels fragile, as if you take one wrong step the floor will fall from under you. 

The master bedroom is too big for one person, you’ve decided, so you’ve started sleep in one of the many guest bedrooms. The guest room is still large and elegant, but it’s more bearable when you remember that it’s only ever been you sleeping in this bed, not you and Bruce.

You don’t see Bruce as much. Only when crossing paths in the long hallways or during mealtimes. Alfred is trying his best, but there is only so much he can do.

“Good morning Mrs Wayne.” Alfred greets as you walk into the large dining space. Which is now more commonly used for Batman’s cases. “Sleep well?”

You hum and smile politely.

“Yes, thank you Alfred.” You reply as Alfred places down a plate of food in front of you. As always Alfred has been too kind by making your favorite.

“Thank you Alfred.” You smile and so does he.

“Is Bruce coming?” You ask as you dig into your food. You can see Alfred put on a sad smile.

“I’m afraid not,” He says. Bruce has stopped coming to as many meals as he used to. That, at least it used to be, was the one thing you could count on him for. Even if he didn’t eat as much as you’d liked.

“I will go to him later,” Alfred starts heading to the door.

“No, it’s alright,” you say before gently placing down the utensils in your hands. It felt like everything felt delicate. You wouldn’t dare be too harsh with anything. Even if you used to be.

“I will.” You get up and head to Bruce’s place at the table picking up Bruce’s untouched plate. You walk in the direction of the elevator, the only one in the building that goes to the floor the ‘cave’ is on.

“Are you sure Ma’am?” Alfred asks skeptically, stopping you. You pause, think for a moment, turn to him and nod. Before letting out a sharp breath and heading again to the sliding doors of the elevator.

When the doors slide open again on the bottom floor you’re greeted with a cold gust of air. Goosebumps rise on your skin.

You scan the large room looking for Bruce. Your eyes land on him, hunched over his desk, furiously scribbling into his journal. You take slow steps over to him.

“I'm not hungry Alfred.” Bruce states in a gruff voice, before you can make it even five feet from him.

“When are you ever?” You retort, walking forward still. This gets his head up, his figure un-slouched.

“You're here,” The sentence like a seament of disbelief. Bruce turns to look at you, and you see the black makeup still coated on the pale skin around his eyes. He looks a mess, like he did before you came into his life, before he trusted you to be in his life again.

“I'm here.” You say back. You delicately pick up some of the papers on his desk and move them to the side before putting down the plate of food.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, turning his attention to the plate you placed down next to his arm. He begins to hunch over again, annoyingly.

“This is my house too you know,” You comment before pushing the plate towards him.

“Can you eat please?” Bruce looks at the food a little longer before training his eyes back on his jornal.

“Can’t right now.” He says as he begins writing again. You huff and wiggle the plate on the table top to get his attention again.

“Bruce, I'm not doing this. Eat the food. You haven’t eaten anything nutritious for the past almost 3 days.” He keeps writing as he responds.

“Later.”

“‘Later’ means never. You need something over the fruit.” You complain, annoyed and he looks up at you guiltily. He moves back to his writing just as quickly as he changed his attention off of it.

You pluck the pen from his hand and then the Jornal, before tucking both under your arm.

“Eat.” You say pushing the plate even closer towards him.

“I don’t have time.” He says quietly trying to reach for the journal. You give him a pointed look, and for a second you think he's about to argue again. But then after a moment of thought he smiles softly. It’s barely noticeable, but you see it.

Unusual. You think.

“Are you laughing at me, because I'm serious.” You state with a raised brow.

“No- it's just-“ He cuts himself off trying to think, “It’s what you used to do whe-“

“Do not mistake this for forgiveness.” You harshly state, your body getting stiff and angry. You are just trying to make sure he doesn't die, you are not letting him off that easily.

“I am being a good person, not forgiving you. You have to work for that, and not just wallow in self pity and wait for me to feel bad and make it better.” Bruce straightens his back and keeps his eyes focused on the ground.

“Now eat. It’s still my job to make sure you don’t starve yourself.” Bruce slowly picks up the fork, dips it down into his food, and picks it up. He places the piece of egg into his mouth slowly and chews on it reluctantly.

You nod at him to continue and he does as you begin to speak again “After this, go lay down.” Bruce hums in understanding that you are not asking like you were before.

You begin to walk towards the elevator before you stop yourself from going any further. That reaction was harsh even for your situation. You huff out sadly before turning back to Bruce who is chewing still.

“Listen, Bruce,” You start, “I'm not trying to be a bitch.” Bruce's eyes meet yours before he looks away. The eye contact is too much for him so he settles on staring at your top, where the hem of your shirt meets your skin.

“I just- I care about you, and even though im- we’re not on the best terms doesn't mean I’ll stop worrying about you.” You say looking down at the ground with furrowed brows.

“Because, I do. I worry about you.” You admit and Bruce feels so guilty. “Im sorry,” You finish, and Bruce swears a piece of his heart cracks at your defeated stance. You are trying to be strong, and kind and angry all at the same time.

“I'm sorry too.” Bruce says quietly, “And I know I need to work hard for you to forgive me, and I know it will take time. So I'm sorry for being a hassle.”

You both stay like this in silence for a while, not knowing what to do or what to say, until Bruce abruptly stands up. He picks up his plate and walks over to you, holding out his hand for you to, hopefully, take. And you do, before putting Bruce’s journal and pen back on his disorganized desk.

Neither of you say anything as you walk hand in hand to the elevator, up the elevator, and to the dining room. You just enjoy the warmth of his calloused hand in yours. He enjoys your willingness to give him a chance, one that he doesn't deserve. Not yet.

[stupidlovergirl]

TL;DR He's HOT! In which you get caught gushing about how into them you are, by them

Feat. Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan,Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor Dateables Version not edited

"What do I like about Lucifer?" you repeat back. "What is there not to like? He has a pretty good fashion sense, a mature vibe also-" you kept rambling, naming qualities you like about the eldest demon, from his physical qualities to his personality. 

He honestly couldn't believe his ears. He had just come to drop off some documents and ask questions. He didn't suspect that you and Diavolo would be talking about him, much less what you supposedly liked about him. The list must be quite great, as you have barely taken a breath and kept chattering off things.

"To sum it up, Lucifer is one the hottest men I've met. Mature with the just right amount of playfulness. Not to mention easy on the eyes" you finish, love sick look in your eyes

He stopped and waited before appearing a little while after. Diavolo could tell he heard, by the smug smirk he wore. You felt awkward, I mean you were literally JUST singing the man's praises. Giving the documents to Diavolo, Lucifer chatted a little before saying goodbye.

You immediately got called to his office after you came home. Man literally started quoting what you said as you rotted away in the chair in front of his desk. Don't worry, he's just having his fun before he tells you the feeling is mutual.

Mammon catches you talking to Asmo about him on one of your spa days. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop! Honest! You were just kinda loud and he could hear all that you were saying about him through the door.

“Have you SEEN his eyes Asmo? They are the prettiest shade of blue! Ugh, and his hair is so freaking soft. I have never been so in love. He can rob me blind as long as he just keeps smiling. I am so down bad. AND ANOTHER THING-!” you said, going on another tangent. 

Mammon is blushing sooo bad. He is so pumped you like him back! As you should, he IS your first man!!! He has no preservation instincts, so he yells in victory, fistpumping the air. Asmo gets on to him and they have an argument about how he needed to learn to stop that. You, on the other hand, are trying to hide.

Mammon kidnaps you (against all of Asmo's protest) and tells you that you should feel that way about him! He is the Great Mammon after all, your first man! He also stutters out that he likes you too. 

Leviathan does not know how the stars aligned, but he heard you and Beel talking in the kitchen. Well, you were talking as Beel scarfed down the entirety of the fridge and pantry. (He's hoping that his rainbow pizza is a survivor).

"He is just so dreamy, Beel. I don't know how he doesn't see it. His sunset eyes, his devotion to his games? Ugh, and when he goes on his nerd rants? Be still my beating heart!!" You exclaim dramatically. 

Through a muffled mouth of food, he hears his younger brother reply 

"Just tell him. I'm pretty sure he likes you back" 

"He's like a wild animal! Can't approach him to fast or he will run away!! Ugh, but I wanna kiss him so baddd"

He squeaks at that comment, quite loudly. The two of you come out of the kitchen, but Levi is GONE. He might have given away someone who was listening in, but he will not get caught.

Later in the week, he invites for an anime marathon, and makes it very obvious he knows. Just tell him there, he'll freak out, but accept anyways.

Honestly, it was your fault for talking about Satan in a library, especially quite close to the mystery novels.

He was looking for a novel, when he heard you and Mammon talking. He recalls that earlier in the week you two got in trouble for low quiz scores, so you must have been forced to stay here for so many hours.

"Ugh, he is so cute. I love him sooo much. He is so cute when he plays with the cats in the street. He looks so at peace and comfy I lose my mind. Not to mention, his ability to remember things? Iconic. He is the only reason I pass history. I have never felt this way before! I think Satan is, like, my perfect match."

"Good for you. Did you find a cheat sheet online?" Mammon replies boredly.

"I don't think Lucifer would appreciate you not even attempting the work, Mammon" Satan replies, startling both of you.

"Satan!" the both of you yell, in shock.

"H-how long have you been there?" You ask nervously. Oh, how cute is all Satan can think.

"Long enough"

He ignores it till Mammon and you finish your work, with his help of course. He tells you the feeling is mutual, and that he appreciates all the compliments.

Asmo was running late. It was usual, beauty takes time you know! It's also tasteful to be fashionably late, keeping suspense up. He does feel a little bad, as it is Solomon and you kept waiting. It was a cute new café that he had seen all over Devilgram, and just knew that the three of you had to go together.

He was about to yell out for you two, but he saw you passionately talking about something so he decided not to.

"He is just so pretty, Sol. Do you ever think he would be into me? He is completely out of my league, but maybe there's a small chance?? I could be, like, his funny little significant other who hypes him up!! I think Asmo would appreciate that, don't you?"

Solomon, who had noticed Asmo approaching, just shrugged. 

"I dunno, you ask him" is all he says, pointing at the object of your affections with a smirk.

Asmo is soooo happy!!!!! You and him are gonna be the prettiest couple to ever exist, and he tells you that right then and there. He announces that you're dating right on the spot, as you and he both obviously want to. You three have a good day out, and when you go home, Asmo spoils you as you both talk about how the other one is prettier.

Beel had just gotten out of a shower after a workout. He, you, and Belphie had a movie night planned. Aka, Beel gets snacks, Belphie sleeps through the entire thing, and you get to see something you have wanted to for a little bit while hanging out with the twins. It was a perfect win-win -win for all three of you. You and Belphie we're doing prep(you were while Belphegor slept the whole time) for when he came back in their room. So, when he heard you giggling in their room, Beel couldn't help but smile.

"He is so perfect, Belph! He cares so deeply for everyone, and is so kind. I dunno if I ever met such a sweetheart before. I think I should go for it, but I don't know. I figure I should ask you how he feels since he is your twin"

"Go for it" is all Belphegor replies with, sleep obvious in his words. He hears you laugh again, and then decides to open the door.

You look a little pale, and Belphie looks a little smug. He probably heard him coming down the hall, with his better hearing.

"Hey! So I thought-"

"You really feel that way?" Beel ask.

"Oh! You, uh, heard that. Yeah, I really do"

Ecstatic, he smiled so big when you said you were serious. Puppy boyfriend aquired baybee!!!!!!! You two watch the movie while holding hands and cuddling as best you could. Belphie appreciates you two being together but he's not giving up the best cuddle spot to indulge you two.

Belphie, Satan, and you had a scheduled Anti-Lucifer League meeting. The plan was to move everything in Lucifer's office half an inch to irk him. Belphegor had fallen asleep, so he came in a little later than you two. 

"He is so cute when he sleeps Satan! He literally acts like a cat! When he snuggles his head into my stomach I lose my mind!!! I might be reading into it too hard, but I think he might also like me back? Maybe I'm delusional, but it seems like it! I like Belphie so much, he makes me crazy"

"Criminally insane, crazy does not fully describe how in deep you are" Satan replies boredly, like he had heard this rant time and time again.

Belphie, is of course, happy. You like him! Him! Oh man, this is such a good day. He obviously acts like he doesn't know anything when he enters the room. You look awkward, and Satan is tired. After a day or two, he brings it up. He wanted to make you feel like he hadn't heard you. He makes fun of you for being so down bad, but accepts your feelings and tells you he feels the same. He might not show it, but he is also so into you it almost hurts.