#they act almost pure about it as if they didn’t pick up the book that said ‘hey there’s smut in here don’t be flustered when they fuck’

[rosesradio]

don’t get me wrong i love wattpad’s little like culture & how hilarious some readers can be in inline comments…but sometimes they can be too snarky & rude & it’s not cool

[gay-dorito-dust]

How these goofs react to you letting go of their hand all of a sudden…

Dick’s is a bit short cuz it is. Take that what you will. Plush he looks like the type to have a somewhat skincare routine/ enjoy participating in a skincare routine but that’s just me.

Dick Grayson exe has stopped working.

No literally, he just stares at his hand that you let go of as it grasps thin air.

You broke him. Congratulations.

Now apologise to poor Dickie bird for pulling such a stunt.

‘Why did you let go? What’s wrong?’ He’d ask, reaching a hand over to try and grab your hand again, only for you to pull away.

You shrugged ‘nothing, I just don’t feel like holding hands right now.’

Dick blinked. ‘Is it because I’m wearing moisturiser and it’s making your hand slip out of mine?’ He asked out of the blue and you couldn’t help but smile at his spontaneity sometimes.

‘No, it’s not because of that, even though it doesn’t get a bit…much sometimes.’ You muttered the last part under your breath. Dick beamed brightly when it wasn’t anything that he had done specifically that made you want to stop holding hands, and immediately grabbed for your hand again and intertwined your fingers together. ‘Good because I hope you know that I’m not letting go of your hand now.’ He said.

You couldn’t bring yourself to stop him as Dick was at his cutest when he was happy and beaming brightly; Besides it was a silly prank you pulled that wouldn’t have lasted long anyways. ‘Fine by me, Dickie bird. Fine by me.’ You said to yourself as you both walked home from a date night well done.

Jason Todd would only try to hold your hand again as though nothing happened.

Then when you’d slip your hand from him a second time, Jason would stop, grab your hand and intertwine his fingers with yours and hiss. ‘Stop it, you’re acting like you don’t want to hold my hand.’

‘Well what if I don’t to?’ You asked him innocently enough and Jason stops to look at you, eyes softened. ‘If you didn’t want to hole my hand chipmunk, all you had to do was say so.’ Just as he was about to let go of your hand completely, you were quick to hold his hand and intertwine your fingers with his.

Jason raised his brows at you. ‘I didn’t peg you as the type to backpedal on your own prank sweetheart.’ He began. ‘Now I wonder why that is?’ He’d ask as he began to lead you both down the street again. You pouted, squeezing his hand, too stubborn to admit the fact that you loved the way that Jason’s hand felt within your own; Feeling protected, safe and sound. Also with the way that his hand encased yours in pure warmth was just an added bonus.

‘You keep me warm.’ You said but the way you worded it made it sound more of a question than anything else, and Jason picked that up almost immediately as he wolfishly smirked at you. ‘Is that your sole reason. That I keep you warm?’ He asks as he leaned towards your face, his hot breath fanning across your face. ‘Now why don’t I believe that.’ He adds and you took a deep breath to compose yourself before responding. ‘Believe me or not but that’s my only reason for holding your hand.’

Jason pouts as he holds his free hand against his chest as though he were hurt by your response. ‘If all I am to you is a hand warmer, then I guess I must accept my fate.’ He joked and you couldn’t help but laugh at his theatrics, fondly remembering the night that he confessed his adoration for everything theatre. ‘I guess you should.’ You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. ‘We’ve got some books that require some much needed reading waiting for us at home after all.’ You added and smiled as Jason practically dragged you all the way home as he strode long strides.

Damian Wayne would react to you unceremoniously letting go of his hand the same way he’d react if someone were to insult his entire lineage; with a disgusted sneer.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ He’d ask, crossing his arms over his chest, obviously unamused.

‘Didn’t feel like holding your hand anymore.’ You admitted with a shrug.

Damian huffs. ‘If that’s your reasoning then so be it.’ He’d then continue to walk off without another word.

Yep, that was Damian’s way of telling you that you just lost hand holding privileges for a week. Upon noticing this, you were quick to try and catch up to him and attempted multiple times to hold his hand once more, only for Damian to swiftly avoid your advances as though you were the plague.

‘Damian.’ You grunted as he dodged another one of your attempts of holding his hand. ‘Hold still and let me hold your fucking hand.’ Damian raised his brow at you and scoffs. ‘Tt. Done being childish have you?’ He asks rhetorically as you tried to hold his hand for the third time in the past five minutes. ‘It was only a prank Dami!’ You exclaimed, stopping in your footfalls when Damian stopped abruptly in front of you.

‘I’m aware.’ He answered dryly.

‘If I say sorry, will you let me hold your hand?’ You asked, regretting ever pulling a prank on Damian on the first place because no matter how low you’d go, Damian would somehow manage to go into the depths of hell to get his own back tenfold. Damian raised his brows. ‘Perhaps. Depends on how well put together your apology is.’

You groaned in frustration, knowing that you’ll never win with this little shit. ‘Fine. I’m sorry for pranking you Damian. How’s that for an apology?’ You said as quickly as you could just to get it over with in hopes of sparing yourself even more embarrassment. Damian pondered for a little bit and was about to say no and go back to walking, but when he caught a glimpse of your face, he knew then and there that he had truly gone soft as he found himself offering up his hand to you.

‘Don’t do it again.’ Was all he said and you immediately beamed as you clasped your hand in his, intertwining your fingers as you began to walk down the street.

[crystallinestars]

This was inspired by a conversation I had with an Aventurine AI. If Aventurine seems a bit OOC, I apologize. I wrote this all in one go while sleep-deprived.

Aventurine lays his head on your lap and you pet his hair and give him kisses. That’s pretty much it.

Contains: Established relationship, lots of fluff, and self-indulgence.

After returning from Penacony, Aventurine asked you to play a game of cards with him. He said he missed you and wanted to spend some quality time over a casual game.

Of course, Aventurine wouldn’t be Aventurine if a bet wasn’t involved.

“If I win, you have to give me a kiss,” he said while keeping his violet eyes trained on your face, a cat-like smile tugging at his lips. Without looking, he placed a card on the table and then waited for your move.

“A kiss?” you parrot, a bit surprised that Aventurine chose a rather simple bet this time. Usually, he liked to ask you out on long dates or get you to wear designer-brand clothing he picked out specially for you. A kiss seemed suspiciously simple by comparison.

“Yes, just a kiss. On the lips, of course,” he smirked and pointed at his lips for emphasis. “But what do you want if you win?”

You hesitated to answer, a bit self-conscious about what Aventurine would think of your request. Whether because you’ve missed him, or because the dark bags under his eyes hinted at Aventurine’s exhaustion, you just wanted to take care of him by doing something nice.

“If I win, I want you to lay your head on my lap and let me pet your hair,” you finally say, voice tinged with embarrassment.

The cat-like grin fell from Aventurine’s lips as he stared at you in wide-eyed surprise, before bursting out laughing.

“That’s the most adorable bet I’ve ever heard!” he grinned, his tired eyes lighting up with amusement. “It almost makes me want to throw the game so I can spend the evening being pampered by you.”

Your cheeks flushed from embarrassment and annoyance as Aventurine laughed at your choice for a bet. Your intentions were pure and genuine, so it hurt a little that he laughed at it.

Seeing the annoyed glare you sent his way, Aventurine quickly quieted down and tried to do damage control. “I admit, I quite like your idea. Whether I win and get a kiss, or lose and get pampered, both scenarios are a win-win in my books,” he said, his gaze warm.

“…Would you really throw the game just for some pampering?” you asked, looking at him with poorly disguised curiosity.

Aventurine only chuckled in response and leaned back in his chair, exuding an air of confidence.

“I’ll play seriously, of course. I still want that kiss, you know,” he replied with a smirk. “Let’s play and see who luck favors more.’”

The game of cards continued. While it wasn’t your first time playing with Aventurine, you sported a hefty 100% losing streak against him. The chances of that changing now were slim, you figured.

However, luck seemed to be on your side this time. You amassed some good cards, and even managed to push through tough plays where you were on the verge of losing. The game progressed unusually smoothly, and before you knew it, victory was in your hands.

“Ah, looks like I lost. Lady Luck was on your side today,” Aventurine sighed. Though he sounded disappointed, the smug smile painted across his face hinted at the opposite.

“You let me win, didn’t you?” you stated and crossed your arms, not buying his little act.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Aventurine casually brushed your accusation aside as he stood from the table. “Well then, as the losing party, I must fulfill my end of the bargain,” he drawled, giving you an expectant look.

You wanted to retort and call him out on his bluff some more but thought better of it. It truly had been a while since you saw Aventurine, and you were looking forward to doing something nice for him, even if it meant accepting a rigged victory.

Conceding to his expectant gaze, you led Aventurine over to a nearby sofa and took a seat on one side. You patted your lap, and Aventurine needed no further invitation to lay across the sofa with his head resting on your thighs.

He let out a quiet purr when your fingers carded through his blond locks, gently threading through the strands. Aventurine’s hair was soft and silky—all thanks to the expensive hair products he used.

“I could get used to this,” he murmured, looking up at you with a playful glint in his eye. “It feels quite nice to be pampered like this.”

“Sure, I could do this for you every day,” you quip back, playing along.

“Really? I’ll hold you to your word, then,” Aventurine chuckled.

“It will cost you, of course.”

“Ah, you drive a hard bargain.”

The playful banter between you continued for a while longer until it petered off into a peaceful silence. Your fingers never paused in their gentle and slow strokes through his hair, and you saw Aventurine gradually relax under your touch. The weight of Aventurine’s head grew heavier in your lap as he relaxed and lowered his guard. He closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh, basking in the tranquil moment.

The dark bags under his eyes were proof that Aventurine had not been sleeping well lately, which made you worry a bit. Your tender touches seemed to do the trick, however. Aventurine’s breathing deepened and slowed, while his expression softened into something more vulnerable and innocent as he succumbed to sleep. It was an expression you seldom witnessed, but one you knew was proof of Aventurine’s trust in you.

The sight of Aventurine so vulnerable and relaxed was simply too cute for you to resist. Overcome with a surge of affection, you tenderly brushed his bangs out of his face, before slowly leaning down and touching your lips to his in a feather-light kiss.

The blond tensed under you, and you pulled back slightly only to be met with an even more adorable sight. Aventurine looked up at you with surprise, his cheeks flushed a rosy, red hue. You had caught him unaware with that kiss and were now privy to a rare sight of him acting flustered.

You did your best to stifle the laugh that threatened to bubble out, but a snort still made it through. Aventurine’s momentary surprise turned into a sullen pout at your obvious attempts not to laugh at him.

“Sorry, you were just—so cute, you know? I couldn’t hold back—” you stammered, trying and failing to completely reign in your laughter.

Aventurine’s expression melted into something softer as he reached an arm up, placing his palm on the back of your head.

“I’m cute? The cute one here is you,” he murmured, voice almost a whisper as if he were saying it to himself. It didn’t sound like his usual playful flirting. This time, his tone was serious.

Stunned, you fall quiet and look down at the blond. Despite his serious expression, it still held a note of vulnerability and sincerity that you only saw during private moments with him.

The hand behind your head applied gentle pressure, a silent request for you to come closer to his face. However, there was no force behind it. If you wanted to, you could easily pull away and reject his wordless plea, and Aventurine would let you go. He always did.

This time, you felt like indulging him, so you complied and lowered your head until your faces were mere inches apart.

Your eyes met.

“If you want to fulfill my bet, then that kiss wasn’t nearly enough. But you’re welcome to try again, darling,” he said, voice breathy and soft. In classic Aventurine fashion, he left the decision up to you. He clearly wanted more, but he was still too hesitant to ask outright for it.

“All right. I’ll try as many times as you want until you’re satisfied,” you whisper back, before leaning in and closing the distance between your lips.

This kiss was firm yet sweet, and the first in a series of tender kisses that will leave their mark across Aventurine’s face.

Perhaps one day he’ll be comfortable with asking for what he wants from you without resorting to games of chance. For now, you will pamper your tired boyfriend and give him the affection he so desperately craves, even if it means giving him a hundred kisses every day.

[moviecritc]

like the movies ⋆ max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x actress!reader

summary: even though you've been all your life acting, you never experienced a love like the movies, until max appeared in your life

word count: 1.7K

warnings: none, just pure fluff

a/n: I'm going through a max verstappen phase, so if you have any requests for a blurb or something cute, send them <3

english is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

"Are you breaking up with me over the phone? While I'm on my way to your parents' house? Are you stupid or what?" With each sentence, Y/N's voice grew louder.

"Y/N, I'm really sorry. But…"

"But my ass! Don’t you have any common sense?"

She could hear her boyfriend sigh, and she sighed four times louder than him.

"You are too… cold-hearted for me," he finally said from the other end of the line.

Y/N stifled an exclamation. Cold-hearted? How could she be if she was an actress? She was the warmest person he had known.

"You're always focused on your job and yourself, I need someone…"

"Idiot!" Y/N interrupted him. "Just say you don’t have enough self-love to date an independent woman. You worthless piece of shit."

She hung up after her sentence, not wanting to hear her ex-boyfriend's response. She parked the car and ran her hands over her face. She looked at herself in the little mirror of her car, touching up her lipstick and reassuring herself that she was a good person worthy of love.

She got out of her car and went directly to the bookstore in front of her. She still had quite a few books in her apartment to read, but she didn’t mind. It was her third breakup in four months, and she was starting to wonder if she really was the problem, and the only thing that could distract her from that was spending money she didn't have.

She began to pile books on her arms, and by the fifth manuscript, she started to wobble.

"Do you need help?"

Y/N blinked and peeked her head out from the stack of books, meeting a blonde with a very un-London-like accent and skinny jeans who looked like anything but someone who worked in a bookstore. She didn't know that strangers were now offering help out there.

"No, thanks," She took a step and added a sixth book, enough for all of them to fall. "Shit!"

Y/N felt so embarrassed she even blushed. She knew everyone in the bookstore would be watching her, and that terrified her.

"May I help you now?"

Y/N looked up, having completely forgotten about the presence of the stranger, who was looking at her with a kind smile.

"If you insist…" She smiled a little while rolling her eyes, which made him smile too.

They picked up the books together, which were a bunch of rom-coms. For a moment she thought he would judge her choices, but he didn’t make any gesture.

"I'm Max, by the way"

Y/N blinked. She had no idea what was happening, it seemed totally unreal that a stranger would help her pick up her books and suddenly introduce himself.

"Do you like Sally Rooney?" he asked, holding the last book she'd picked.

Y/N realized that this guy wanted to keep a trivial conversation with her, like those you have in nightclub bathrooms with girls. But this time was a bookstore, not a library. And not a girl, but a Max.

"I’ve never read her, but I saw Normal People, the series, and I was left wanting more," she explained, with a shy smile. "Y/N, by the way."

"Nice to meet you," he showed her a gorgeous smile. "I read the book, I haven’t had time to watch the series yet."

"Oh, it's really good,"

The conversation flowed too easily. She wasn’t used to talking so normally with someone she had just met a few minutes ago and moreover without it being awkward, but that was how it was. Y/N told him about the books she planned to buy and the one she was reading now.

"Excuse me, we're going to close," an employee informed them. In London, shops always closed in the mid-afternoon, for lunch, and although Y/N had arrived around eleven-thirty, the clock was almost striking one. "Are you taking the books?"

"Sure, yes," said Y/N at once and turned to Max. "Hold on a sec."

Max waved his hand, telling her not to worry, that he would wait. She paid for the books and quickly returned to Max.

"Do you have plans for this afternoon?" Max asked directly. Y/N loved the confidence in his voice.

"No, I don’t,"

"Can I invite you to lunch?"

"I'd love that,"

Y/N went to leave the bag of books in her car and she and Max walked to a nearby restaurant, continuing their conversation. It still seemed extremely surreal to her, in what universe does she break up with her boyfriend and moments later meet the nicest guy she had ever known?

"What do you do?" Max asked, once they were seated in the restaurant.

"I'm an actress," she pursed her lips. She was still in the phase where it was hard for her to admit she worked in that field.

"I'm not much into movies," Max commented, scrunching his nose.

"Great because I do theater,"

"Really?" he leaned back in his chair, impressed. "I don’t frequent the theater either, to be honest."

They both laughed softly and Y/N sipped her drink. "And you?"

"I work with cars,"

Y/N furrowed her brow, waiting for him to specify a bit more. "In a repair shop or how?"

That caused a small laugh from Max, leaving Y/N even more confused.

"Yes, exactly. In a repair shop," he continued with a wide smile.

"Well, if you like cars, there's some Prix thing here this weekend. There are tourists everywhere, it's terrible," she complained, rolling her eyes a bit.

Max gave her a goofy smile. That was perfect. Simply perfect.

"Really?" he arched his eyebrows slightly. "I had no idea."

"They do it every year. A silly thing," Y/N shrugged, letting the topic pass.

They continued talking for a long time about how Y/N once almost knocked down the shelves in a bookstore.

"Just like in the movies!" Max said, laughing.

She nodded, also laughing. "I swear things like a character in a tragicomedy happen to me."

They continued laughing for a while, then Max squinted a bit, resting his head on the palms of his hands. "And don’t you think it’s very movie-like that someone picks up your books for you?"

Y/N looked around, with sudden terror. "Where are the cameras, Max?"

He threw his head back laughing with a soft scrunch in his nose. The sound of his laugh felt really warm for Y/N.

"I hope nowhere," Max was right. Too good to be true. Too good to happen to her. Her look darkened a bit, and Max noticed it quickly. "Something wrong?"

She looked up and shook her head a little. "It's just… Is this weird?"

"I don’t think so, unless you want to make it weird. I’m pretty good at that,"

Max got a small smile from her.

"It's just that I’m used to…” Y/N thought about that sentence. “To things like this not happening to me. I haven’t been doing too well in love this past year,"

"Oh, me neither," Max didn’t mention the part about being a famous person and everyone wanting to be with him out of pure interest and not because they really liked him. "It's complicated."

"Quite," she pursed her lips. "Anyway… I have a performance at a theater in Soho on Thursday, you could come by. If you want, of course."

Max bit his lip; he had his first free practice that day and likely several meetings and driver duties.

"Oh, I'd love to. What time?"

They exchanged phones after the meal, which dragged on quite a bit, so that Y/N could send Max the location of the theater. And to exchange several messages throughout the day. They didn't see each other again until the day of the performance, but in that time, they had written dozens of messages. Y/N would tell Max about the series or movie she had watched that afternoon and recommended that he watch it, even though it was more than likely that Max hadn't turned on a TV in months.

Thursday arrived, and Max managed to sneak away from a meeting, arriving just in time for the play.

Y/N was nervous, and her co-star wasn't helping.

"Y/N!" Her co-star approached practically running. "I just heard that a famous driver is watching the play."

"Really?" She didn't care too much. She had been without news from Max for hours.

Luckily, he appeared at the door with a kind smile and a bouquet of roses. "Hi,"

Y/N flashed a smile and went up to him, instinctively wanting to hug him. Max, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, left a short kiss on her lips. She instantly blushed.

"Hello," Y/N greeted, with a silly smile. "Gorgeous flowers."

Max looked at her co-star, who was completely astonished.

"Lily, are you okay?" questioned Y/N, still hugging Max.

"Why didn't you tell me you were dating a famous driver?"

Y/N turned to Max instantly.

"What do you mean, 'famous driver'?"

Max pursed his lips slightly. "Aren't you going to call her out on the 'dating' thing?"

Y/N paused for a moment, trying not to laugh at what Max had said.

"Y/N, this is Max Verstappen. The Formula 1 driver!"

She lifted her chin and looked at Max again. "Formula 1 driver?"

Max scratched his neck.

"I think so…"

Y/N paused again for a moment. "And you let me mock your career just like that?"

"It's because you're strangely nice, what can I do," Max shrugged, causing Y/N to laugh.

"Well, I'm not one to deny it," she smiled a bit, then kissed Max's lips a second time. She placed a finger on his chest. "Though we're not dating, huh. We need to have a second date before we throw it all in for each other,"

Max burst out laughing. "Like they do in the movies?"

"Absolutely."

taglist; @theseerbetweenus

[bloatedandalone04]

Bets & Bargains - Part 6

Series Masterlist

➪in which you and bradley reach a new point in your...‘relationship’ after your fourth date takes an unexpected turn, and it leaves both of you aching for more.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 6k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

You were going into your second hour of class when Bradley texted you, and while you would usually remind yourself to get back to him later and focus on taking notes, you put your pen down and pick up your phone instead, hiding it behind your book as you read the text. 

Fratley: What are you doing later tonight?

You glance up at your teacher, and once you were sure he wouldn’t catch onto what you were doing, you quickly text him back. 

Nothing, why? 

Fratley: There’s a new horror movie out. For some reason I have a weird feeling that you’re into those kinds of movies.

You laugh to yourself, making sure Mr. Clarke wasn’t paying attention before replying to him.

I have no idea how you knew I like horror movies, but I’m down. What time?

Fratley: It starts at 7:20. I can pick you up for 7?

Sounds good. 

You were giddy throughout the rest of the class and had barely paid any attention to what Clarke was saying by the time the class ended. 

You got home at around 6, and quickly had a shower before Bradley would be here. The fact that you and he haven’t gone more than a day without seeing each other since you met was making you feel all sorts of things, and all of them were good. You couldn’t believe how much you liked him in such little time. It was almost concerning. 

Sam was still a bit pissed off with you since you officially ended things with her brother, but you knew she would come around sooner or later. You didn’t need to marry Luke to be able to consider her your sister. In all honesty, you never saw yourself marrying Luke in the first place. You were still so young, why were you even thinking about marriage right now?

You push away those thoughts and get ready for the movie, opting to dress in black leggings and a cropped tee. You grabbed your UVA hoodie and draped it over your arm as you ran your fingers through your still damp hair. It would dry on the drive to the movies, and you were lucky enough to be one of those people whose hair didn’t get overly frizzy if you didn’t blow dry it. 

Fratley: I’m here early. I couldn’t help it. 

You smile at your phone and leave your room. Just as you were making your way to the door, your fingers typing out a reply to Bradley, Sam leaves her room and blocks your path. “Jesus,” you laugh as you abruptly stop walking. “I didn’t know you were home.”

Sam crosses her arms and tilts her head. “Where are you going? On another date with your rebound?”

You furrow your brows and put your phone in your pocket. “My rebound?”

“Yeah, that guy you’ve been seeing pretty much every day since that party,” she replied, squinting her eyes at you afterwards. “You know, the party I took you to.”

She was acting hostile again, and you weren’t sure why. This couldn’t be because you and Luke were done and that you were moving on, right? She wasn’t that petty, right? “Oh right,” you play along, crossing your own arms. “The party you ditched me at.”

Sam straightened up at that and her scowl deepened. “I already said I was sorry for that,” she muttered.

“I know, and I’ve already forgiven you, so I’m not sure why you’re bringing it up again,” you huff, annoyed that she was still going on about this when you could be with Bradley right now. 

“Because,” she rolled her eyes. “If you never went to that party, you would’ve never met that Bradshaw guy and you would’ve never broken up with Luke.”

You laugh in disbelief. “Are you serious?” You ask, and when her expression doesn’t change, you stand up straighter. “Well maybe I would’ve met him on campus. We ran into each other the day after out of pure coincidence, I could’ve met him for the first time then. And Luke and I have been broken up. For a while now. I’ve moved on, and so should the both of you.”

Sam opened her mouth to respond, but you were fed up. You pushed past her and grabbed your keys from off the coffee table, glancing back at her as you shoved them into your bag. 

“And for the record, Bradley is not a rebound,” was the last thing you said before opening the door and closing it behind you. You were a bit heated as you stepped outside, but the sight of Bradley leaning against the passenger side door of his Jeep calmed you down a bit. You were a bit breathless as you walked swiftly down the steps and reached him, lifting your hand and setting it on his shoulder. “Hi.”

He smiled down at you, his hands wrapping around your middle and pulling your body right up against his. “Hi,” he said back before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss caught you off guard since it was only the second one you’ve shared with him, but the surprise quickly wore off as you deepened it. Bradley kept his face close to yours when he pulled away and murmured, “I saw that you read my text but you didn’t come out for a while. I got worried.”

His confession had you feeling warm for a completely different reason and you smiled up at him, sliding your hand down and gripping his bicep. “Yeah, sorry,” you trail off, your head a bit fuzzy from the kiss. “I was going to text you back, but Sam, my roommate, decided to start something with me just as I was about to leave.” 

“Ah, the roommate,” he teased, reaching up to run his knuckles along your jaw. “Do I get to meet her soon?”

You laugh and shake your head, glancing behind you at the closed door before turning back to him. “Probably not. She’s my ex’s sister, and she’s a bit more than pissed that her brother and I are done,” you say and Bradley presses his lips together to stifle a laugh. “Might not be the best idea to formally introduce her to my ‘rebound’.” You complete the sentence by lifting your hand and finger quoting ‘rebound’, making Bradley let out a loud laugh as he leans further back against the Jeep. 

“Rebound, huh?” He grunted. “That hurts, babe, it really does.”

You blush and shrug, meeting him halfway when he starts to lean back in for a second time. He kisses you quickly before pushing away from the Jeep and opening the door for you. “Thanks,” you mumble and sit in the passenger seat. “You kept it running?”

“Had to make sure your seat warmer was on,” he simply answered and your blush deepened, but he thankfully closed the door before he could see it. The darkening sky also helped hide it. “Ready to go?” He asked once he was in the driver’s seat, looking over at you with his annoyingly pretty brown eyes. 

“Yeah,” you whisper and put your seatbelt on as he pulls away from the curb. “So what’s this movie about?”

“I don’t know, I think maybe it’s about a nun getting pregnant or something like that,” he answered and you nod with a quiet laugh. 

“Nice choice,” you tease and he glances over at you. 

“Hey, it’s supposed to be one of those scary convent movies. I thought you’d be into that kinda thing,” he smirked and you had to physically restrain yourself from kissing him again. How was he so effortlessly hot?

“Oh, I’m into it,” you hum and take his hand when he holds it out to you. He kept his left one on the steering wheel as you lace your fingers with his, and you tried not to think about just how big his hands are. 

Seriously, Y/n, get a grip here. He’s cute, but he’s just a guy. A very cute guy. A kind guy. A stupidly attractive guy. 

And that’s how you found yourself feeling completely screwed for a second time this week. 

-

Even though it had only been a day, Bradley somehow found himself missing you. 

It was crazy, because he shouldn’t be missing you so soon, but he couldn’t help it. He also couldn’t help the way he kissed you against his Jeep when he picked you up, and he was a bit nervous that you were going to react negatively since you and he weren’t actually official. 

But you kissed him back and he was given the reassurance he needed to go on with this date.

Is this a date? Is this his third date with you? Or maybe fourth if you counted the brief movie night at his place, which he does. 

Four dates in and he hadn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend. He’s seen you almost every day this week, and things were going great in his opinion, so why hasn’t he put a label on this yet?

He never took Bri out as often as three times a week in the eleven months he was with her, so maybe she was right about him not putting enough effort in with her, but that clearly changed with you. He didn’t want to be stuck inside anymore when he could instead be somewhere with you. 

Bradley was still feeling a little guilty about allowing her to come over the other night, and that might have partly played into why he kissed you. He knew now that he wanted you, and knew he was going to stop wasting his time pining over a girl who only wanted him for his body and dick. 

You were so different from her.

Bradley parked in the underground parking lot, and the whole drive here he had to pretend he didn’t notice the way you hadn’t pulled your hand out of his the entire time. Backing up with one hand was hard, but he didn’t want to be the first one to pull away. Maybe you were a sucker for physical touch like he was. 

God, he hoped so. 

You argued with him about buying your ticket, then dropped the attitude when he suggested that you pay for the drinks and popcorn. “This actually works out perfectly,” you hum as you take your drink and the tall bag of popcorn. “I paid for the garden, you paid for dinner, and now we’re equally paying for this.”

“I wouldn’t count me paying for dinner as anything,” he laughed as he tossed a bag of candy onto the counter after you had already paid for the drinks and popcorn. “Five Guys is so cheap.”

But you ignored his words as you glared at him, watching with squinted eyes as he pulled out his wallet. “Hey, I was supposed to pay for the snacks,”

Bradley just smirked and grabbed the bag of skittles. “I can’t have you paying for your own candy,” he said simply then laughed when you raised one brow. “Fine, we’ll share it.”

“I’ll pay you back,” you offered but he just shook his head and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, careful not to spill his drink on you. 

“It’s like, four dollars worth of skittles,” he brushed off your words and guided you over to the ticket person, handing the guy both yours and his tickets. “I don’t think it’ll break me.”

“I just feel guilty when people pay for things for me all the time,” you say quietly as the guy pointed in the direction of the theater. 

“Don’t,” he said just as quietly, pulling you along with him. “I don’t mind paying for things, babes. I have enough money to get me by for quite a while.” He didn’t want to go into too much detail of why he had a fair amount of money as he felt like bringing up the whole dead parents thing was a bit of a weird thing to announce before watching a movie that may include people getting brutally murdered. 

You glanced up at him in a way that made you look so innocent, he wanted to kiss you right in the middle of the hall. “I like when you call me that,” you confess and he grins down at you, deciding to actually go for it now.

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and he was still smiling when he pulled away. “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep calling you it,” he stated, watching as you blushed before ducking into the theater and booking it to your seat, leaving him to laugh as he followed after you. 

Bradley had picked seats that were in the back row since you had told him that you preferred to not have anyone directly behind you, claiming that you’ve had your seat kicked one too many times now. 

The more he found out about you, the more he wanted to know. You had all these cute characteristics and were so incredibly attractive to him, he was sure he would rather spend his time just talking with you than doing anything productive. 

When he sat down next to you, he draped his arm over the back of your chair and leaned in to press a lingering kiss to your cheek. He had a feeling that it would make you blush again, and he was right. 

Even in the dark room that was only lit up by the previews on the screen, he could see the way your face tinted with a blush, and the way you squirmed a bit. “You’re driving me crazy,” you whispered as someone came in and sat down a few seats away from you. 

Bradley laughed and dropped the bag of skittles onto your lap, making you jump slightly. He would be lying if he said he didn’t love the way he was able to make you feel all flustered just by doing the smallest of things, like kissing your cheek. “Trust me,” he murmured. “The feeling is mutual.”

When the movie started, Bradley really couldn’t be blamed for not being able to pay much attention to it. He had, what could simply be described as his dream girl, right next to him and he had made you a blushing mess. 

He was a bit annoyed that he hadn’t met you sooner, and he wondered how he had never seen you around campus before until this week. Surely he would’ve remembered you. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, the time he spent with Bri felt like a waste now that he knows he could’ve possibly been spending it with you.

Not even twenty minutes had passed since the movie began and Bradley had already lost interest. It seemed like you might have, too, since you had been not so subtly glancing over at him every now and then for the past five minutes. 

The hand of his arm that was draped over your shoulder moved closer to your neck, and soon he was tangling his fingers in your hair. You shifted in your seat slightly, and the next time you looked over at him, he couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and kissing you. 

You kiss him back almost instantly, as if you had been craving to do it as much as he was. Usually Bradley wasn’t into excessive displays of affection in public, but to be fair it was pretty dark in the theater, and the movie itself took place in a dark convent, so it’s not like anyone could see what you and he were doing. 

And he couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself right now. He’s been so into you since that night at the party, he didn’t know what to do with himself. You were giving him the impression that you were into him, too, and that was enough for now, but he knew it was only a matter of time until he wanted more. 

He wanted you.

Bradley reached over with his free hand and gently gripped your jaw, angling your head so he could deepen the kiss that was quickly becoming too heated to be deemed acceptable in a public setting. 

He wanted to take you out of here and back to his house, but he also didn’t want to rush things with you. He wanted to take his time.

Then you grabbed his wrist and placed his hand on your thigh before sliding it upwards, and he was prepared to ignore all of that.  

You grab onto his shoulders then slide your hands up until they are tugging at his hair, and he swore he had never felt anything better than that. When you started biting down on his bottom lip, he knew he had to either pull away and keep his hands to himself, or take you right out of this theater before something happened. “Y/n,” he rasped when he pulled back, only able to get out the one word before you were kissing him again. He held onto your forearms and pulled away again after a few more seconds. “Let me take you out of here, baby.”

The look you gave him had him not even caring how desperate he sounded as you bit down on your lip and tugged at his sleeve. “Call me that again,”

Bradley was smirking now as he leaned over until he was well into your personal space. “Come on, baby,” he whispered right next to your ear, “Let’s get out of here.”

The moan you let out after that had his cock twitching with want, and you stood up quickly, grabbing your drink as you made a beeline towards the stairs. Bradley grabbed his own drink and the half eaten bag of popcorn, rolling the edges of it until it was closed, then he was practically running after you. 

When he made it out into the hall, you were already halfway down it, but he was able to quickly catch up to you. He wrapped his arm around your middle and turned your body, leaving a chaste kiss to your mouth before he was guiding you back towards the stairwell that leads to the parking garage. “Should we wait for the elevator?” You asked as he pushed you up against the wall beside it, glancing up to see that the elevator was on the seventh floor.

You began placing kisses to his neck and jaw, and when you poke your tongue out and ran it along the scar on his throat, he huffed through a moan, “No, let’s take the stairs,” 

Then he was pulling the door open and tugging you down the three floors with him, neither of you caring at all about the looks everyone gave you as you finally made it to the garage. Damn near everyone in that movie theater were given a free show of you and him not being able to take your hands off one another, as were the people in the lobby, and it just excited him more because he had never felt this worked up before. And he was just kissing you when it happened. 

“Why did you have to park so far away?” You whined as you tried to keep up with him. “I’m dying here.” 

Bradley let out a deep laugh before stopping abruptly. He turned around and picked you up before you could accidentally run into him, and you squealed when he threw you over his shoulder. “Problem solved,” he grunted as he resumed his fast pace towards the back of the garage. 

“Bradley,” you laughed as you clung onto the back of his shirt. 

“What? You were going too slow,” he smirked as he tightened his grip on the backs of your thighs. He finally made it to his Jeep not long after that, and he set you down and held your body close to his with one hand while he unlocked it with the other. 

It was considered a miracle that he was somehow able to not spill his drink on you with just how handsy he was being. He tossed the bag of popcorn onto the passenger seat next to your hoodie then grabbed your drink and set both yours and his safely in the cupholders, turning to you with a smirk now that his hands were free. 

Bradley grabbed hold of your waist and pulled your body close to his, connecting your lips in a deep kiss as he pressed you against the back door. His tongue slipped into your mouth and brushed against yours, and the strained moan you released had him bucking his hips. A string of saliva connected the two of you when he pulled away and murmured, “Come on,” 

He got up onto the driver’s seat and pushed it all the way back before holding his hand out to you. He helps you up and slams the door once you are settled on his lap, then his lips are against yours again. Your hands tangle in his hair as his grip your waist, tugging your body so your chest is right up against his. 

“The things you do to me,” he mumbled when you pulled away and began placing open mouthed kisses to his jaw and neck, focusing on the spot where the hickey Bri gave him was beginning to fade. “It’s not right, the way you make me feel.”

Your laugh against his neck had him grinning as he closed his eyes and leaned back. “How do I make you feel?” You asked, removing one hand from his hair and tracing the tip of your index finger along the scars on his cheek. “Do I make you feel excited? Overwhelmed? Maybe a bit nervous but in the best way? Because that’s how you make me feel, all the time.”

You whispered those last three words directly into his ear and Bradley groaned loudly. “Yeah,” he breathed out, guiding your body into a slow roll against his. “That’s exactly it.”

“Oh, God,” you moaned and it was probably the prettiest sound Bradley had ever heard in his life. Your hands find his shoulders again and twist his shirt as you take it upon yourself to grind your hips against his, tilting your head back and exposing your neck to him. 

Bradley’s eyes dropped down to your throat, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in and pressing his lips to your soft skin. The feeling of your covered core rubbing against him was surreal and he felt himself getting more worked up. He wasn’t even properly feeling you, wasn’t even inside you and he still felt so fucking good. 

When he pulled away from your neck, his eyes darkened at the hickey he left that surely would be hard to cover up later, but luckily it was the weekend. Though he didn’t really care much. He secretly wanted the other guys on campus to see it.

Each drag of your core had you moaning louder and louder, and Bradley wanted to make you feel like this all the time. “Feel good, baby?” He asked in a teasing tone, smirking at the whine you let out as you nod. 

“Yes,” you whisper, leaning in to press your forehead against his. “Maybe it’s a good thing that you parked far away.”

A blush took over your face and it sounded like you were forcing yourself to be quieter, and Bradley didn’t like that. “I don’t care if someone hears us,” he rasped, bending one of his knees and grasping your hips tightly. You moan at his words, then moan even louder when he takes full control and bucks up against you. 

“Fuck,” you gasped, clinging onto his shoulders. 

Bradley had never done anything like this in public before, but he knew he couldn’t wait until he got you back home. He also didn’t want your first time together to be in the front seat of his Jeep as he thought you deserved something a bit more romantic than that, so it was kind of good that this was an on top of the clothes type of thing. 

“You’re so pretty,” he groaned as you met his thrusts halfway. “Way too fucking pretty for me.”

You grip his jaw and press a searing kiss to his mouth, the back of his throat silencing your cries of pleasure as you get yourself off on top of him. “Bradley,” you moaned his name and he had to physically hold back a surprise release at just how hot you sounded. “I like you so much, it’s almost pathetic.”

How sweet you sounded when you were insulting yourself. “I like you, too,” he said back, kissing up the side of your neck until his lips met the skin below your ear. “Ever since that night at the party. I thought you looked so fucking good standing in my dining room.”

You bite your lip and dig your nails into his shoulders. “You saved me from being by myself that night,” you struggled to say as you quickened the grind of your hips. “I was ditched just minutes before you came up to me.”

Bradley still had no clue why Sam ditched you, then he remembered that she is related to your piece of shit ex, and it suddenly made sense. He thought back to that awful text Luke sent you when you had fallen asleep during your movie night, and he was appalled that he had the nerve to talk to you like that.

But he could get annoyed with your ex another time, not when you were currently rocking your hips into his and kissing along his nearly healed scars. “You’re gonna make me come,” you warned in a tone that should not have sounded so innocent given the circumstances. 

“Yeah?” He grunted, also feeling himself get close. “You’re going to make me come, too.” 

You grin down at him and kiss his lips as you give a few more rolls of your hips before you tense up against him and release a string of loud, whiny moans. “Fuck,” you stuttered above him, twisting his hair in between your fingers as you came. 

As you were coming down, you never stopped rubbing yourself against him, and not long after Bradley was coming, too. He dropped his head onto your shoulder as he let out deep and breathy groans, feeling his release coat himself in his boxers and jeans. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered as you finally stopped and let out a small laugh. 

Your hands trailed through his hair as you both tried to regain control over your breathing. “Did you..” you trailed off as if you were embarrassed to ask him if he came or not. 

It was almost comical since you had just given him what he thinks was the best orgasm of his life, and he never once penetrated you. All his past times with Bri felt like a bit of a joke now that he knew how good you felt, even fully clothed. “Yeah,” he answered, watching as a proud smile formed on your lips. Bradley leaned in and pressed a much more gentle kiss to your mouth, his hands coming up to smooth out your hair. “Sorry we didn’t get to watch much of the movie.”

Then it dawned on him that you and he left not even halfway through a movie about nuns and celibacy to go hook up in his car, and he had to hold back a laugh of disbelief. 

You huffed as you shook your head, laughing afterwards. “It’s okay. I wasn’t really paying much attention to it anyway,” 

“Me either,” he replied and you laughed again, hesitantly moving off him and crawling over to the passenger seat. 

Bradley watched your every move, and when your eyes trailed down to his lap, you quickly covered your mouth with your hand. “Oh, my God, I’m sorry,” you gasp, making him furrow his brows in confusion before he looked down and noticed the wet spot on his thigh. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he waved you off, not caring a single bit at the dampness on his jeans, but you seemed to be mortified. 

“I’m embarrassed now,” you murmur and cover your face. 

“Don’t be,” he said again, reaching over and taking your wrist in his hand. “I mean it. That was so fucking hot, and I already couldn’t stop thinking about you before. This definitely won’t help.”

That seemed to make you feel a little better as you slumped against the seat and gazed over at him. “I don’t want this night to end yet,” you confessed quietly. 

Bradley slid his hand along your arm until his fingers were laced with yours. “I don’t, either,” he mumbled. “It’s still early. Why don’t we just sit here and talk?” His offer reminded him of the conversation he had with you that night Bri came over and nearly ruined his whole day. Then you called him and made things better, and he found out just how much he likes talking to you - though it was pretty obvious before. 

“Okay,” you agreed, smiling over at him as you got into a more comfortable position, still keeping your hand locked with his. “Let’s play that question game again.”

“Okay,” he laughed, leaning back as well. “What’s your favorite holiday?”

“I love Christmas,” you answer. “It’s like the one time my family actually puts in an effort to spend time together.”

Funnily enough, that was one of the reasons Bradley didn’t like Christmas. He didn’t have a whole lot of family left, and the one person who was a constant in his life wasn’t a big fan of the holiday either. “You guys aren’t close?” He asked and you shook your head. 

“Not really. My parents and I are close, but my sister and I haven’t really talked much since I came here,” you shrug and look over at him. “What about you? Does your family go all out for Christmas? Or is it a once a year type thing like mine?”

Bradley smiled and looked down at your joined hands. “I don’t really celebrate Christmas that much anymore,” he murmured, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. “I loved it as a kid, but now it just feels like a memory.”

Your face scrunches up in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Oh, God, was he really about to willingly have the dead parents conversation right now? Right after you and he just got each other off in a fucking parking garage? “Um,” he trailed off, looking at the various cars around. “Well…I don’t really have anyone to celebrate it with.”

He looked back over at you when you sat up and gave him your full attention, and he knew there really was no reason why he couldn’t just get this topic over with. 

“My dad, he…died when I was really young, so I don’t really remember much of him,” he mumbled, feeling the way your grip on his hand tightened just slightly. He brought it up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to your knuckles before continuing, “And my mom died when I was still in high school, so the only person I really have is my uncle, and even he is hardly around anymore.”

There it was. His depressing as fuck backstory. 

“Bradley,” you say quietly. “I don’t know what to say.”

He shook his head and gave you a small smile, reaching over with his free hand and running his fingers along your jaw. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything,”

You frown and press the back of his hand against your cheek. “I’m sorry,” you whisper and he shakes his head again. 

“It’s okay, really,” he brushed off your words. “I can talk about this stuff more now without getting too upset. I mean, there’s nothing I can do about it, so that kinda makes it easier to talk about it.”

You nod and kiss along his knuckles. “Hey, I never did ask about what you wanted to do once you graduate,”

“Join the Navy,” he answered as if it was the easiest question he’d ever been asked. “Like my old man.”

“The Navy?” You echoed and sat up. “What, like, the Marines?” 

“No, the Air Force,”

Your eyes widened at that, “You want to fly planes? Like, aviation?”

“Well, fighter jets,” he corrected with a laugh. “But yeah, I wanna fly planes.”

“Wow,” you trailed off, looking out the front window for a few seconds before glancing at him with a teasing glint in your eyes. “What do you want your call sign to be, flyboy?” 

He grinned and shrugged. “I don’t really know. Maybe some kind of bird like my dad,”

“What was your dad called?”

For some reason you were super interested in his life, and he actually appreciated it more than he thought he would. “His call sign was Goose,”

“Goose,” you repeated the name with a small smile. “You should be…Duck. Your call sign should be Duck.”

“Duck?” He laughed and shook his head. “No, absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on, that’s a good one,” you laughed, too, somehow able to effortlessly turn a dark and depressing conversation into a much lighter one. “Fine. How ‘bout…Rooster.”

That one actually didn’t sound too bad, and it had the double ‘o’ like Goose. “Rooster,” he tried it out for himself. “Okay, that’s not terrible.”

“It’s settled then,” you state and lean back. “Your call sign will be Rooster.”

Bradley watched as you kissed the back of his hand before pulling yours out of it in order to open the popcorn bag. He was glad you knew about his parents now, as he wasn’t sure how awkward it would be to bring up later.

“What is your favorite holiday?” You asked as you dug around in the bag. 

“Um, Halloween,” he replied and opened his mouth when you held a few pieces of popcorn up to his lips. “What was one subject in school that you just…fucking hated?” 

You laugh and set the bag in between the two of you. “I was really bad at science subjects,” you mumble. “Like, really bad. I passed Chemistry with a 52.”

Bradley tried to hold back a laugh and brought his drink up to his mouth. “Well, Chemistry is pretty hard,” he offered, then couldn’t help but say, “But yeah, a 52 is pretty bad.”

You glare over at him but the smile on your lips told him that he didn’t offend you. “I’m aware,”

When Bradley was forced to drive you back to your place a little while later, he kept his hand on your thigh the whole time. He wasn’t kidding. He couldn’t stop thinking about you before he got you off in his front seat, and it would only be harder to after this. 

“You know, we need to stop having so much fun every time we see each other,” you mumbled once he parked outside your dorm. “Sooner or later I’ll start expecting it.”

“What, having fun with me?” He teased, reaching over to tuck your hair behind your ear. “Trust me, babes, you’ll have fun all the time as long as you’re with me.”

You grin over at him, “I’ll hold you to that,”

Then you were leaning over the center console and pressing a deep kiss to his mouth. One that had him shamelessly groaning and wishing that you would invite him in with you, but he was also trying to remind himself that he wanted to take his time with you and not rush into things. “Have a good weekend,” he muttered when he pulled away. “I’ll be thinking about you nonstop, I’m sure.”

You blush and reach for the door handle. “The feeling is mutual,” you whisper, then get out of the car and make your way inside, leaving Bradley to wait until he felt like he had enough control over himself to be able to drive back to his place.

[sugarbombs-n-stuff]

Companion’s Hobbies

I hope you all enjoy this one and let me know what you want to see from me in the future!

(No gage or longfellow this time around, ill add them later if yall want but i think longfellows boring and i haven’t really played with gage enough for me to say much about him,)

Ada - She actually really digs birdwatching! She can name basically every bird you see and she gets sad whenever she thinks about pigeons.

Cait - Most people would assume something violent and while she does enjoy sparring she’s also really good at wood carving. She picked it up when she was enslaved but she didn’t really do anything with it until traveling with Sole.

Curie - Besides science things she enjoys swimming and gardening with Codsworth. After Sole taught her how to swim she was basically always in water though she does panic a bit when she dives down too deep. Her and Codsworth started gardening when she started getting interested in plants and now they do it for the ritual of it.

Codsworth - Gardening and telling stories. He likes the monotony of gardening as it gives him peace of “mind”. And if there are kids around he’ll tell them stories about Pre-War America, folk tales, and even original stories. Deacon and Cait have dubbed it as Story Time with Codsworth.

Danse - Danse enjoys reading and working out. He likes the sore feeling after working out on whatever equipment Sole set up. Most people might believe that when it comes to reading, he prefers non fiction, he does not. If you get a look at what he’s reading when he’s enjoying himself you might find him reading Lord of the Rings or The Hobbit or any of the Narnia books. He’s a huge fan of fantasy but there are times where he’ll read I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream or Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep.

Deacon - Fiber arts like knitting, weaving, embroidery, anything like that. It has some to do with making disguises but he also grew up doing it with his mom and grandparents. His family are Big-Horner ranchers so they had plenty of wool that his grandma Harper would spin and him and his mom would knit and weave with it. His other grandma Maeve would dye and weave it mostly. After all these years he kept the skills and still loves fiber crafts. He basically always has a knitting project he’s working on. If you’re close with him(or pay enough caps), he’ll make you something.

Nick Valentine - He’s an old man that listens to audio dramas while he mends either his clothes or Ellie’s. Like Deacon, if he’s close with you he’ll mend your things too. It became his hobby accidentally after he kept ripping his clothes and by the time Ellie came to stay with him it had already weaseled its way into Nick’s heart. He’s also fond of checkers and he and Ellie play it a lot.

Piper - She writes. Its her hobby that she made a business out of. It started a little after her dad died and she does it now to grant her self some peace of mind. She’ll write stories for Nat and they’ll act them out together in their living room through laughs.

Preston - Hunting, Fishing, and repairing , though he isn’t as good as Sturges. He grew up on the island near far harbor so its pure muscle memory when he does it now. His brother taught him how to fish when he was younger and his auntie taught them both how to hunt. He can really clear his mind when he’s doing it and its one of the rare times his mind gives him peace instead of problems.

Hancock - Hancock doodles a lot. It was always getting him in trouble when he was in school but now its what he does when he’s first watch when traveling the wasteland. Even on important documents for Goodneighbor you’ll be able to see tiny almost chibi-esk drawings of whatever’s on his mind.

MacCready - Mac also draws! When writing notes to Duncan he’ll draw pictures of whatever creatures he encountered when traveling with the sole survivor’s merry band of misfits. He works hard on every drawing that he makes and it shows cause even though its just a hobby he could make good money off of it.

Strong - Even though he will never admit it, he enjoys hunting with Preston. He also likes reading shakespeare and he’s slowly but surely branching out to other authors. He can read on his own but if him and Sole are close enough, he’ll ask sole to read to him while he’s cutting up what ever fresh kill he got from hunting.

X6-88 - Insect Taxidermy and Gun Cleaning/Modding. If you walk into his house he has butterflies, bloatflies, blood bugs, etc on the walls. He hunches over a desk and pins their wings and bodies and it’s genuinely one of his favorite things to do. Gun care empties his mind as he lets muscle memory take over. While it is calming , he does it more so when he gets an itchy trigger finger. He’ll take it apart, inspect it, clean it, then reassemble it over and over. He’ll tire of it quickly though

[rewrittenreality]

Meant To Be

Pairing: Emmett x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Mention of a gun, mention of death, Emmett and Reader being in love

Summary: In your time with Emmett, you've realized just how much you like him

A/n: This is part 2 of A Sense of Safety! I'm in my Cillian Murphy phase as you can clearly tell.

You had been with Emmett for about a month now, his home in the old steel mill now becoming your home. It wasn’t much, but it worked for the both of you and that was all you needed. 

When your shoulder was feeling better, you tried to leave so you wouldn’t become an issue in Emmett’s small space. However, he insisted that you stayed, telling you he didn’t want you out in the hell ridden world by yourself. He needed the sense of comfort you brought him and you needed the safety you felt with him around.

So, you agreed to stay with him, having your own little corner to put your belongings you did have left. Over time, the two of you started sharing the makeshift bed against the wall. You had slept better in the past few weeks than you had since the end of the world started. 

There was one little problem. Your growing attraction to Emmett was not making it easier to sleep in such close quarters. You often woke up to his arm over your side, an unintentional act on his part but flustering nonetheless. 

There was something about Emmett that you loved. His looks were part of that, but you couldn’t help but fall for his personality. He was quiet and shy, but at the same time kind and caring. He always ensured your safety above his own, trying his best to keep you out of harms way. 

Emmett thought much the same about you. He started falling for you, something he never thought he would ever do again after the death of his family. It wasn’t a topic many people in the world thought about anymore after the creatures arrived. 

You were perched atop one of the ledges in the steel mill, keeping watch while Emmett went on a supply run. There wasn’t much to keep watch for as long as there was no noise to alert anything around you of your presence. But, it ensured that nothing was able to get into the mill undetected.

You and Emmett normally took turns doing runs, but this was Emmett’s 2nd time in a row. You had a close call on your last run, almost getting yourself killed. Emmett couldn’t risk losing another person he cared for, so he insisted on going for the time being. 

It did get kind of boring sitting on your ledge for hours on end. You found ways to keep yourself entertained though, often taking books that Emmett had found on his previous runs to read. Before all of this, reading in complete silence would have been hard for you to do. These days it was very normal for you. 

As you read your book, a screech rang through the air. You immediately dropped your book and picked up your rifle to look through the scope. You scanned the area, your scope landing on Emmett who was sprinting towards the concrete opening in the building. 

Right behind him was one of those things, its large body almost blending in with the area around it. You aimed your rifle at its head, your finger on the trigger as you waited for the right time to shoot. As soon as the protective armor on its head opened, you pulled the trigger. You were thankful for the silencer you had made as you watched the creature fall to the ground.

A couple weeks back, you had figured out that there was a way to kill these things. It was by pure accident, but it was beyond helpful. You could now kill the creatures if there was enough time to wait for the right moment. 

Emmett looked up to your ledge, smiling at you as he disappeared into the mill. You made your way down, meeting him at the entrance to your hiding place. You jumped down the entrance, Emmett following close behind you. 

He was breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath as he pulled his mask down. You took the supplies from him, storing everything away as Emmett rested for a minute. You turned back to him, finding him smiling at you. You raised your eyebrow at him, smiling back at him. 

“Thanks for saving my ass.” Emmett whispered, his smile only growing.

“You save my ass all the time, Emmett. We’re a team now, we have to watch each other's backs.” You retorted in a playful manner. 

Emmett took off his jacket and hat, placing them on the chair behind him. As he turned back to you, you used your finger to wipe off the dirt on his nose. He tensed at the touch, but didn’t stop you as you continued wiping the dirt off his face. Neither of you were used to touch these days, finding yourselves tensing at any small touch the two of you shared.

Emmett found himself leaning into your touch, feeling so gentle and soft on his rouged and worn face. His hand came up to hold your wrist, his grip almost ghost like in fear of hurting you. You ran your thumb over his cheek, wiping the last bit of dirt from his face. 

You stared into his eyes, letting your fingers linger on his cheek. There was a sparkle in Emmett’s eyes that you had only noticed a couple times before, that of wonder and awe. His normally steel blue eyes appearing brighter, as if the gray was slowly fading. 

It was completely silent as you stood there, staring at each other. Emmett was hesitant as he slowly leaned forward, afraid of how you would react. To his relief, you began leaning forward as well, meeting him in the middle. 

Closing the gap between the two of you, Emmett captured your lips in a gentle kiss. Your hand on his cheek made its way to the back of his head, your fingers running through his silver streaked brown locks. You could feel the tickle of his beard against your lips and chin, making you smile into the kiss. 

Emmett ran one hand down your back, the other finding its place on your hip. He pulled you closer to him, resting your foreheads together as you broke apart. Your hand was still entangled in his hair, your other hand splayed across his chest. You could feel his heart racing, somewhat relieved that yours wasn’t the only one. 

“I can’t lose you, Y/n.” Emmett whispered, his hand on your hip moving up to rest on your cheek.

“Never gonna lose me, Emmett. I promise.” You smiled softly, using your fingers to comb through his hair in a soothing manner. 

You stood there in a comfortable silence for a moment, never letting go of each other. It was as if somehow, in some way, the 2 of you were made for each other. Even in the darkest of times, times like these, you were meant to find each other. You were meant to feel safe in each other’s arms. It was just meant to be. 

[jomamaofficial]

Death After Noon (Kaeya x GN!Reader Dark Angst Oneshot)

A/N: Day 3 of the holiday writing streak hehe. Hello my lovely toes, I am back with another angst fic. But this time, I’ve tried a new format out hehe: reverse comfort → angst no comfort </3. Also, if you didn’t see my last post, I AM WORKING ON A QUIRK MARRIAGE MULTIPLE CHAPTER FANFICTION WITH OUR GOLD MINE OF ANGST, SHOUTO TODOROKI. If you want some more information, filter through the richiethetoe’s updates tag :). As always, my Ask Box is open for any requests or just a conversation. I would love to give back to our little community here. Please remember to take care of yourselves, and enjoy. As always, I would love to see your thoughts about the new format I experimented with hehe. CW's: Intimate acts (kissing, making out, SFW touching), Alcoholism. Masterlist Word Count: 1505. Summary: Kaeya Alberich, Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius, the infamous heart breaker of Mondstadt. And your sole reason for pure and utter joy. Sharing moments he never shared with anyone but you, it makes you wonder how someone could say that they love you so much but then just decide that they don’t want anything to do with you anymore.

——————————————————————————————————

His smile was infectious. A simple chuckle– warm and deep.

It lifted all the burdens in your life.

It was cheesy. Cliché even. But you couldn’t help smiling at every shared moment with him. 

The chaste, knowing glances– his eyes always finding yours in a crowded room. The subtle closeness– his fingers brushing past yours. 

The tall, and dark, and handsome man became your Prince Charming in your Shakespearan tragedy. His smile could tug the heartstrings of the Holy Lyre, enticing Barbatos himself to descend down to Teyvat, mistaking it for the heavens above; his hair reflected the celestial twilight: a vast ocean for your fingers to tread through as he rest his beautiful face on your lap, his lunar eyes staring into the void of your heart, pushing and pulling until it soared in tides. 

Kaeya Alberich was the rich poetry scribed in gold, filling the pages of your empty book in lavish ink– envied by many, obtained by one. 

Late nights in the Angel’s Share were spent: skin against skin, his fingers sneaking over yours. Intertwined in a beautiful mess, with heated cheeks, and cool, deep tingles, which ran through your spine. 

The two of you were Diluc’s worst nightmare. The older brother had his reservations towards both of your… public approaches to intimacy. But the brother held sympathy in his eyes; his stoic face would always fog up in questions when he saw your longing one. 

Diluc was weary of his younger brother. 

He sent sharp glares and hushed warnings to both of you. Yet instead of listening to him, Kaeya grabbed your hand and ran into the awaiting darkness. You stumbled as you traversed along the winding allies of Mondstadt, his greedy, impatient hands picking at the buttons on your shirt, guiding your bodies into an empty Inn.

Yet when he was finally in the  solitude of your comfort, concealed from the prying eyes, his deep desire evaporated, in its place left deep adoration.  

You basked in the rays of filtered silence, his hands soothing your waist and holding you tight against his flushed body. He nestled his head, heavy with thoughts, on your chest, tracing absent shapes on your skin whilst his touch got softer and softer the more you stroked his hair. 

“What I wouldn’t do. To stay like this forever”, he spoke, voice so soft and incoherent, you almost mistook him for another. 

 “Going home was snatched from my fate, my angel. It was never an option”. 

He pushed his head against the increasing gravity, his eyes heavy. He glued your gaze to his, and you peered at your reflection wavering in his crashing waves– his irises, cloudy and grey. 

“So why does your embrace feel like home to me?” he asked, leaning forward ever so slightly, his breath uneven as he lingered at your lips before lifting his head, his misty blue eyes trapped behind his lashes. 

You were just an inch apart from his lips, and you could smell an assault of booze and liquor. Yet this time, you didn’t want to get drunk off of it. 

You wanted to savour it. 

Your hand seeped warmth through his cold cheek, his face glowing, a gentle radiance. 

So fragile, you shivered as you cradled him in your hand, jumping head first into the abyss of his eyes, trying to decipher the harbouring storm that formed underneath. 

He seeked permission, his lips drawing closer. 

And how could you refuse him, when he was sprawled in your lap, so exposed? So vulnerable? 

“I love you so much, Kaeya”, you whispered, only for him to hear. 

You were so inviting, so kind. 

His confident demeanour shrivelled; he didn’t know how to act when you patiently waited for his lips to close the gap.

So he cautiously pressed a peck to your lips. 

His sweet hesitance filled you with travelling butterflies that spread their wings, fluttering colour to your face, and comfort through your core. 

And for the first time, Kaeya felt as though his guard was melting. The heavy armour finally peeled away.

Such a simple moment, but for him it was so unfamiliar. 

His lips had touched many. But they were sloppy, sticky, and seductive. 

But he had never kissed someone. 

With love, tenderness, and care. 

You were his first. 

His first kiss.

Your thumb grazed past his cheek, your feather touches travelling to his jaw, shakily cupping it. 

“Is this okay?”

“Yes…”

And this time you closed the gap. Your hands left his face and rubbed his back. 

You felt as though he would shatter in your hold, like a shard of glass. Your breathing matched with the slow pace of his, as one of your hands travelled to his scalp, tenderly scratching it. Kaeya leaned into the touch, sighing as he pulled away from your lips, his eyes closed. Your fingers removed his worries, one by one, plucking at every strand and blowing them far, far away from him. 

You were the reason his head was lighter.  

You deserved so much more. 

“You deserve so much better than me…” he babbled, only to be silenced by another kiss. 

He pulled away to babble again.

“If you knew the real me, you would never come back”. 

You pulled him in again. Your taste was sugar for his bitter words. 

“Never let me go”, he pleaded. 

And you detached your hands from his back and head to extend your pinky forward. 

“Never”, you promised, curling your pinky around his. Such childish antics. Such sinless  memories. 

“I love you, Y/N”. 

-

With a dry throat and a splitting headache, Kaeya woke up to the ray of sunlight that peeked through the blinds. His eyes blinked the fatigue away, his hand shielding them from the piercing radiance. 

He examined the room he spent the night in. Unfamiliar as always. 

“I’ve gotta’ stop drinking”, he muttered.

Kaeya let out a yawn, before leaning his hand on the side of the bed, fingers reaching for a shirt. 

“How high is this thing?” he mumbled, leaning further down until they hit the wooden floor. 

Brows knit in frustration, he craned his head on the side, scanning the empty floor. Apart from the legs of a chair, there was nothing. 

Eyes squinting, he peered beyond the foot of the bed. 

Nothing. 

Just the chair standing solitude in front of the uncovered windows.

He couldn’t remember what he wore the day before either. 

Fuck. 

The sudden movements caught up to the throbbing ache drumming in his head. With a wince, he settled against the brick walls, closing his eyes to alleviate the pressure in his temple. 

The absence of his rapid movements cast pure silence in the room. And the early morning was kind enough to hold the burden of his thoughts temporarily; it cast pure silence in his mind. So when a soft rustle tainted the abyssal stillness, he flinched, the hair on his arms erect and alert. 

It was coming from beside him. On his left. Underneath a mast of thick, white linen. 

With a few strands of hair poking from the top, he shifted his focus onto the constant rise and fall. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

The air was still around him. 

Kaeya stared at the sleeping figure; his lips were pressed together, his fingers tense as they clutched his matching duvet.

Thoughts were crossing his mind again. The silence, destroyed. 

His hands reached towards the figure, reluctant. hesitant. 

Kaeya exhaled, breathing shallow. 

Using his thumb and index finger, he grabbed onto a crisp cover with the tips, drawing them back, inch by inch. 

His heart beat faster as he slowly unveiled the duvet, Every piece of revealed skin matching together as a puzzle until he reached the chin. 

Beside him lay delicate features, so innocent, lounging comfortably beside him. The light of dawn diffused a rosy hue on your cheeks. His glazed eyes began to thaw along with his hands. 

His smiling eyes trailed down the curve of your neck that disappeared into a silk collar, hidden. 

But then his smile dropped: eyes scrunched and lips parted. 

A collar.

And suddenly, he narrowed on the reflection behind you: his black shirt hanging off of his chest, with maybe one or two buttons open. His hair, tame. His skin, clear: empty of any bites or bruises. 

His gaze focused on the sliver of your exposed skin. 

Clear: empty of any bites or bruises. 

The forgotten headache was back, louder than before, seeking his attention as his vision disfigured. His chest tightened, his thoughts flooding the memories from last night. 

What did he say to you.

-

A lonely flask sat on the bedside table. An overwhelming absence. 

What a fool you truly were. 

A fool because you dove head first, even though you knew this would happen. 

How could someone say that they love you so much but then just decide that they don’t want anything to do with you anymore.

Kaeya Alberich could. He always did.

[angelfirstclass]

Rogue's Rooftop Rumble

Here is my submission for today's Rogue/Gambit Week 2024! Today's prompt is Rooftop/Steampunk so it's got a bit of both. Hope you Romy shippers read and like it!

Anna Marie was walking around the Lensherr manor late at night.  She had commissions from her mother to take a package from Erik Lensherr and transport it to her uncle Charles Xavier.  Anna Marie had traveled from her farm in Virginia to the Lensherr manor in Washington, D.C.  

At the moment, Anna Marie could not sleep.  She knew it was late from all the clocks that Mr. Lensherr had around the manor.  They were the most beautiful and interesting clocks that Anna Marie had ever seen.  A large clock in the living room took up a whole wall and it was telling her that it was almost half past two in the morning.  

Maybe because of sleeping in the carriage or because of her mission from her mother she was not tired at all.  She walked around the upstairs of the manor and was thinking about reading a book in the library when she heard a sound.  

Maybe it was a creak or a thud, but it sparked Anna Marie’s curiosity.  She scurried closer to the sound which she thinks she heard coming from the roof.  Maybe it was Mr. Lensherr experimenting in the attic, she didn’t know.

Anna Marie was close to the door leading out to the roof when she was shoved aside by a tall man.  

“Mon dieu!  What the hell?”  A cajun tinged accented man.  

Anna Marie was so shocked that she did not even react or scream.  She was hurt and all she could do was quickly take in the man and what he held in his right hand.  He tried to conceal a package quickly, but Anna Marie spotted him putting it into his breast pocket.  

“Give me that package!  It’s my mother’s.”  She gasped, a little afraid and nervous.

The man gave her another shove and ran out of the door up to the roof.

Anna Marie was no coward and wasted no time following the man up to the roof.  He had seconds on her and was nowhere to be seen at first, but then she spotted him.  The roof here was curious and extremely tall.  Somewhere else or in New York City, the man could have easily jumped to the next building already, but Mr. Lensherr had put curious wire and fences all around the building as if he was expecting intruders.  

The man had tried to explode the fences, but was blasted by a steampowered ray machine for his troubles.  He felt the sting on his arms, but powered through.  This man was Gambit, thief for hire.  A mutant from the deep South who was traveling up and down America picking pockets and doing high stakes burglaries.  This mission was important because he had been hired by a man named Sebastian Shaw.  

What this package was Gambit didn’t know, but knew that it must be important or Mr. Shaw would not want it.  Mr. Shaw was a slippery character that had all sorts of political dealings and so it wouldn’t be surprising if this object was dangerous at all.  

Gambit was so distracted by the ray machine and all the wiring that he did not notice Anna Marie at first.  She saw him and stood between him and the door back downstairs.  She knew from her conversation at dinner with Mr. Lensherr that his manor was like a fortress and guarded by all sorts of machines and gadgets.  

She didn’t really have a plan, but acted on pure adrenaline and instinct.  “Give me back that package!  You have no way of escape!”

Remy cursed.  He was trying to figure a way out and now had to contend with this girl.  He squinted at her and laughed.  She was a young debutante without any weapons, this was going to be too easy.

“Just calm down, mademoiselle.  I don’t know what you saw or thought you saw, but Remy just came in for a stroll and look around and now he would like to leave.”  He started slowly approaching her ready to use his psionic charm powers on her.  

“No.  You stay where you are.”  Anna Marie called out, but he approached nonetheless and she didn’t have anything on her.  She slowly started taking off a glove as he approached.

He started coming closer and closer to her and suddenly realized how beautiful she was.  She had auburn hair with a curious white streak in it and dazzling green eyes.  Her cheeks were flushed due to all the excitement and Remy admired her spunkiness for even daring to follow him.  Usually his experiences with debutantes were that they were all spoiled, boring girls.  

His plan was to go back down the way he came, but there was one obstacle in the way- her.  He was now close enough to look directly in the eye and so leaned forward and caught her gaze.  

“Hello, cher.  I admire your spunk and attitude, but I think we got off on the wrong foot tonight.  I would like to just move past you and leave, so if you would be so kind…”  He looked her right in the eye and did his best to convince her to be appeased and move aside.  

“Not until you give me back the package.”  Anna Marie said with her arms crossed over her chest and a defiant expression on her face.  This man had some nerve coming in and stealing her mother’s package and then sweet talking her.  She could see that he had a good figure and was handsome, but had one thing on her mind.  Recovering the package.

The psionic charm was failing.  Damn.  Remy was shocked and a little caught off guard at first, but soon recovered.  This was just a girl after all and he was a trained burglar and assassin.  He was ready to shove her aside again when she surprised him by stepping closer to him.  

“What were you doing with your eyes anyway?  They turned all red.  It was quite the sight.”  

Remy did not know what to think now.  This girl seemed aware of mutants and unafraid, another point to her.  He probably should have assumed this girl was aware of mutants being in the Lensherr manor, but it was still refreshing nonetheless.  

“Uh- I was just trying to convince you that this is all pointless, we’re in a lot of danger being up here and it’s best we all just go downstairs.  What’s your name by the way?”  

As if on cue, a security system on the roof apparently was aware that there were people on the roof and had started scanning and letting off steam cannons at them.  

Anna Marie took this opportunity to run towards the door, but also reached forward to grab his hand.  Remy instinctively took the pretty girl’s hand and immediately regretted it.  He felt energy draining out of him and he looked shocked at Anna Marie’s face.  

She let go of his hand and let him slip to the floor unconscious.  “My name is Rogue” she whispered and recovered the package.  

She dragged his body down the stairs using his strength and got glimpses of his dealings with a man named Sebastian Shaw.  She saw his life story and the fact that he was raised an orphan on the streets of Louisiana.  

Soon Erik Lensherr was up and went to go check up on his guest.  When he discovered what happened and the body of Remy LeBeau he was furious, but was convinced by Anna Marie to talk to him and only lock him up.  That he was a wayward youth and had only known thieving as a way to live.  

So Erik Lensherr took in Remy LeBeau and added him to his many acolytes in the Brotherhood of Mutants.  Rogue got her package back and went on her way to New York with it.  She later found out that the package was an important part for a steam powered way to identify mutants that her uncle and Hank McCoy was working on. 

[gravity-barbie]

The Sparrows getting you for secret Santa HCs

Request

Masterlist

Marcus Hargreeves

-Marcus is perceptive and rational so he can figure out a useful gift you might need pretty easily, though his first instinct is to choose something quickly just to get it out of the way

-However, afterwards there’s a few times when he’s out and he sees something that reminds him of you or he overhears you mentioning something that you like and he starts feeling almost self-conscious about his choice

-But actually whatever he chose is perfect, something that you’ve wanted or even needed for a long time but have been hesitant to break the bank on

-Marcus is honestly surprised by how glad he is that you like it, he feels very validated

Ben Hargreeves

-Ben doesn’t care about secret Santa but he’s a perfectionist and once he gets talked into participating he isn’t going to half-ass it

-He thinks long and hard about you as a person, however rather than landing on a interest of yours or something, he does lean more coldly practical

-What he seemingly lacks in sentiment he makes up for with wealth, show off that he is, he makes an effort to give the most costly and coveted present of the day

-While if you like your gift he only barely even registers your gratitude, if you don’t or seem not to he really acts like it’s the end of the world, like he’d be absolutely crushed

Fei Hargreeves

-Despite not being stoked to participate in secret Santa, you’re safe in her hands, she reads you like a book in no time and has some spookily perfect ideas lined up

-She wastes no time getting it out of the way, at first viewing it as a bit of a chore, but ends up having fun picking something out for you, maybe even a couple of things with an overlying theme that even the wrapping paper matches

-While she certainly has a flare for aesthetics, she doesn’t get anything purely frivolous, practicality is the most important ingredient to any gift from Fei

-She’s very confident in her choice, almost smug as she watches you open it but is still so glad when you confirm you love it

Alphonso Hargreeves

-Alphonso didn’t really want to do secret Santa, weirdly it felt like too much pressure to be solely responsible for someone’s Christmas presents, and that pressure only doubled when he got you

-Knowing that if he sincerely tried to get you a perfect gift he’d probably fall flat, Alphonso leans more towards gag gifts

-He’s not completely hopeless though, he makes sure to incorporate an inside joke or something like that for a personal touch

-He tries to act totally indifferent to your reaction but if he gets so much as a grin out of you he struggles to contain his joy and may start babbling about the gift and his thought process in choosing it

Sloane Hargreeves

-Sloane is very glad to of gotten you for secret Santa, so glad in fact that keeping it a secret is pretty difficult, and you may very well of figured it out in advance

-You’re very lucky to have gotten her though, she puts as much thought and effort into your gift as she’d want someone to put in for her, she wants it to be more than an item, rather an experience

-She goes for something more heartfelt than pricey or practical (though of course ideally it’s a combination of all three) and some people may not like her style but if you think like she does it’ll be the best gift you’ve ever received

-Thankfully it doesn’t even matter if the person who got her for secret Santa flubbed it because getting a positive reaction out of you is the best Christmas gift she could of gotten

Jayme Hargreeves

-Jayme doesn’t care about the mystery of secret Santa or gift giving in general, if she has to she’ll just ask you what you want

-If you’re really into the anonymous aspect of it though, she’ll begrudgingly figure it out herself, maybe try to get ideas from a friend of yours or something

-She actually isn’t lazy with her decision, putting a fair bit of thought into her present, because she can’t stand people who buy others gifts they wouldn’t like or use

-She acts apathetic to your gratitude, playing it off like she just picked something random up an hour ago but really she’s quite pleased that you like it

[hahahahawk]

Rule of Blood/Nature Blushing

Words of Radiance re-read

It’s been a few weeks since I last indulged in the Cosmere, so when I picked up at Rule of Blood, a rare Sadeas chapter, I approached it as if it was the opening chapter of a new book.

(Well, I actually picked up partway through “Boots”, but that scene is so memorable it doesn’t gain too much on re-read. And it’s so disconnected from “Rule of Blood”, both in tone and context, that they might as well be in different books)

Imagining that I knew nothing about Sadeas or Amaram or Adolin, “Rule of Blood” makes for a decently compelling entry point. While the pace is, hm, stately, the chapter makes a good dossier of Sadeas. We see his opinions on the Kohlin family, other high princes, the Parshendi, bridge crews, plus a clear look at his own ambition. Plus a look at his wife and her position in his scheming.

So on the one hand, if “Rule of Blood” was the first chapter of a random novel *without* Sanderson’s name on the cover, I’d 100% keep reading. On the other hand, as someone who has invested countless hours in the Cosmere, this chapter adds little to my understanding.

To navel-gaze in the middle of those two hands, I’m going to conclude that this chapter is here to serve a purpose that balances those two opinions. It’s mostly a recap, but placed here to a) break up two Shallan chapters that couldn’t be combined into one and b) re-ground the reader in the politics of the war camps right before they become relevant again.

Plus, by having it in Sadeas’s POV instead of Adolin or Dalinar, it’s priming the reader with an “outsider” perspective. Once Shallan arrives, she will be deeply immersed in the Kohlin camp (even if she’s not staying there), and we’re already familiar with Kaladin, Adolin, and Dalinar within that camp. So seeing the war camps from a different POV acts as a “neutral” establishing shot. Sadeas isn’t objective by any means, but he’s apart from the clique of our main cast.

Conclusion: Rule of Blood is B roll footage that isn’t new information, but it is a valuable transition in multiple functional ways.

***

Nature Blushing

This is a pure microcosm of the Shallan/Tyn relationship. Tyn is the most right and the most wrong she ever is.

Tyn’s completely off the mark about the depth (and even existence) of Shallan’s trauma (in a way we’ll see echoed in Kaladin’s skepticism of it as well), but she offers a playbook of how Shallan should enact her ‘scam’ once she reached the war camps, which Shallan follows exactly (to great success).

What would the story be like if Tyn didn’t die?*

If Tyn was still around, would it have prevented Veil from emerging?

Would we have ended up with a situation where the Ghostbloods/underworld got the “real” Shallan and Adolin got Veil? Except Veil prefers Kaladin, and that connection is not complicated by the boots encounter. Hmm! And it gets extra-extra complicated when Jasnah comes back.

I already see holes in that direction.

Besides not being involved in Jasnah’s death, what else would have to change for Tyn to remain a character? She’s wholly lacking the humility to allow Shallan to have leadership over her. Tyn would have to go through a separate humbling experience, separate from Shallan, be put in a situation where she needs to (is willing to) ask Shallan for help.

But still, the two women have such different interests and values. Tyn might have to be hurt by specifically Amaram in order for her to truly be Shallan’s ally.

The more I think about it, the less I’m invested in this alternate timeline.

—

* hmm. The last time I asked this about a character, it was about Kabsal, who is *also* dead because of Shallan (though not quite so directly). Death rides with her almost more closely than it does with Kaladin. Certainly in a more personal way. Kal would be mad to hear me describe it like that, but I stand by it.

[oceanmusings]

Solstice

Pairing | Dean Winchester x Lori Holt

Summary | Lori forgot it was the winter solstice, but someone remembered for her.

Content Warning | None. Fluff?

When the boys learned Lori celebrated winter solstice, they mainly left her alone with it, didn’t really ask much unless it came up about some lore. Which it didn’t a lot. Sometimes Sam would ask her how it went afterwards. But Lori was used to being alone. Doing her altars, arranging her crystals just right, and making a wreath with whatever evergreen she could find or buy at some local store. She was usually alone celebrating anyways, Uncle Danny having no interest in pagan holiday’s either. Lori would make her altar in his trailer when she was a teenager with whatever candles she could find or a little wreathe with sticks and string. Lori found herself enjoying to celebrate the longest night of the year and the return of the light.

But there was one year she wasn’t alone.

She had joined the Winchester’s on this case and it was taking a bit longer than she anticipated. Sam was out getting some intel, Dean doing…whatever, she wasn’t sure. And Lori was stuck with the books. The radio on for background noise, low volume but Lori found herself humming along to it. Her fingers following the text so she wouldn’t lose her place. Just some peace and quiet for herself. She only looked up as Dean came back carrying a brown paper bag. “Hey, whatcha got there?” She asks as she sits up straighter in her seat.

“It’s uh…for you actually.” He held out the paper back to the woman.

Lori raised a suspicious brow to the bag and cautiously raised her hand to take it. “C’mon, it’s not a bomb.” He scoffed.

“Well, I don’t know, man! It could be with you.” Lori grumbled. Dean never did this and she wondered what it meant, but opened the bag to see various white and yellow candles, mini brown paper bags with items she couldn’t see, and some evergreen branches with string. She just looked up to a nervous Dean Winchester with a confused expression on her’s. “What is this?”

“It’s the 21st, right? Winter solstice?”

“It’s the 21st?” Lori grabbed her phone and looked at the date. Yep, right there. The 21st of December staring at her. The dates truly slipped from her and surprised she almost missed her favorite holiday. “You remembered?” She looked astonished at this idea. Dean, out of all the people she expected, remembered? When even she forgot about the date.

“Of course I did,” He said nonchalantly, like this was normal for him to do. Walking over to the fridge to grab a beer from it. She stared at him for a moment, trying to wrack her brain for a response.

"You never ask about it. I thought you forgot."

"It's an important day to you. I never forgot."

Lori really didn't know how to respond to that either, so she looked in the bag, grabbing one of the mini brown paper bags. She slowly opened it to see multiple different crystals. The thought of him going inside to pick out crystals for her, her insides felt warm at the gesture. Why did he do this? “You went into a crystal store? And got crystals for me?” Lori couldn’t imagine Dean going to one and just looking lost and uncomfortable instead.

“Well, yeah- you don't have your usual stuff, so I just grabbed whatever.” He grumbled, sitting across from her at the little table, taking a swing of his beer. Acting like it was no big deal he did this for her.

“Thank you,” Lori could only find herself able to say, taking a breath to fill in her breathless lungs at this gesture. “This- it means a lot.”

“Don’t mention it.” It was quiet between them as she opened each little bag before he spoke again. “When can we do this?”

Lori looked up from admiring the crystals in her hands, somehow looking more surprised. "You want to join in?"

"Sure. Why not?"

Lori's heart grew more, and she feared what this gesture could mean. Her heart yearning it could have underlying meanings. But she pushed it down, Dean hasn't chosen her in the past. This was purely his way of showing his friendship. But still, the fluttering in her heart made a gentle smile grow on her face that she struggled to fight. Turning her gaze down to the crystals in her hands, as a way to hide how giddy she was to share something so special with him. she cleared her throat and placed the crystals back in their original bags. Focus, Lori. This means nothing. "Later tonight, maybe after dinner."

[sxrxus-blxck]

full name: sirius orion black

nickname(s): siri, padfoot (only by his closest friends)

dob: 3rd november 1959

age: 25

gender: male

sexuality: bisexual

blood status: pureblood

occupation: bartender

other: is an illegal animagus (black dog form)

Personality

  - Positive personality traits: Loyal, intelligent, determined, light-hearted

  - Negative personality traits: Quick-tempered, stubborn, cocky

  Summary of traits: Sirius’ personality is really split into two parts: the traits that he picked up from his family and can’t shake and the ones that his friends brought out in him. And partly it comes to his good and bad side. The loyal, fun loving, ambitious side of him all came from those he grew close to in school. He would do anything for the group of friends he now calls his brothers and it’s as if he feels the need to show them just how much he truly cares for them constantly. Some of that stems from his fear of abandonment but he tries to ignore that the best he can and just have fun with the people that accept him for who he is. But the bad tempered angry side? That’s all his parents. Once he is wound up enough he will snap and the person that he tries to keep buried really shows. He can be cruel when he wants to be. And he could never fully shake the feeling that he is better than others no matter how hard he tries.

  ~ About Sirius ~

  Growing Up:

  Born on November 3rd 1959 to Orion and Walburga black, Sirius was privileged from birth. Being the heir to one of the more respected pureblood families meant that there was a giant weight on his shoulders and he felt that from a very young age. Ever since he could talk he was told how to act and what was respectable behavior in his parent’s eyes. He never really got the chance to be a child and he’s always resented the pureblood community for that, but he tried his best to stay out of trouble. Even as he sat at family events bored out his mind he knew better than to misbehave, it truly wasn’t worth his mother’s wrath that always followed. So, he was rather a quiet child while growing up. Other than a few snarky remarks here and there he really didn’t give his parents a reason to believe he would be anything other than the perfect heir they were raising him to be. He knew how to play along and be whoever they wanted him to be. Almost to the point he even started to believe that was who he truly was inside. And if it got his parents approval, then surely he was doing something right.

  It was exceptionally lonely, however. other than his brother and his cousins he didn’t have that many friends. And living at grimmauld place was extremely isolating. He couldn’t just go out and play with the nearby kids because his Mother would love to inform him that they were “filthy muggles who didn’t deserve his attention’. Some might question why his family choose to live beside muggles if they were apparently beneath them but sirius never did. It was easier just to go along with things.

  Having spent most of his younger years surrounded by purebloods that all had the same beliefs on purity as his parents, Sirius's view on others was somewhat swayed by them. But, as he grew older, he started to question why exactly were they better than others? Yes, their blood was more “pure” but he didn’t really understand why that made them any superior. He spent more of his free time reading and a lot of the books he read were by half-bloods or muggle-borns and they seemed just as intelligent as any pureblood he knew. It was confusing to him. but he made sure to never question it out loud. It wasn’t until he turned 11 and was sent off to school that his beliefs were really put into question. 

  Sirius’ first day at Hogwarts was both the best and worst day of his life. It was the best day because he met three people that would soon mean the world to him: james potter, remus lupin, and peter pettigrew. All three of them would play an important part in how Sirius became who he ultimately was supposed to be. They were the ones that taught him there was more to life than pureblood galas and acting like the respectable pureblood male whose only job in life is to make sure he carries on the family name. They were the ones that taught him to have fun, they brought out his mischievous side and brought him out of his shell. Some might argue that Sirius becoming more confident was a bad thing. But Sirius wouldn’t change it for the world.

  It was the worst day because he got sorted into gryffindor.  And then the spiral of real hate from his parents began. He knew from the second the hat shouted out gryffindor that he was in trouble. He couldn’t recall a member of his family that wasn’t in Slytherin and so he had made his way to the lion’s table with trembling hands when he realized there hadn’t been one. He was the first. And he knew that wasn’t going to go down well. He had hoped he would have at least some time to deal with the sorting on his own. But the very next morning he had a letter from his mother saying how this must be a mistake. That he doesn’t belong in gryffindor and that they would sort it. But, deep down he knew he did belong there. Deep down he knew he wasn’t like his family, he just didn’t want to admit it. And so he had ignored the letter and when McGonagall had spoken to him about it the next day he told her everything was fine and he was happy being in gryffindor. He sometimes regretted that decision even to this day.

  His parents were always rather…physical, when it came to punishments. But over the years they have gotten worse and worse to the point Sirius stopped going home during christmas. But, summers he couldn’t avoid. And he would often go back to school each year with new bruises and even a few new scars. He tried to hide them though. That was always a conversation he never wanted to have. And, honestly, as long as his parents' anger was focused on him and not his brother then he could handle it. But, something seemed to change in Sirus’s mind the longer he was at hogwarts. The more time he spent with other wizard and witches from different backgrounds the more he realized that his family's views were ridiculous. And with the war brewing, he knew he’d have an important choice on his hands. He'd have to choose between the friends he has made and the family that could destroy him if he left. 

  The choice came the summer before the start of his sixth year. His parents had finally had enough of his antics and sat him down to tell him they had decided he was to join the death eaters and FINALLY make them proud. He was told that Voldemort would be happy to have the black heir on his side and that he would be joining the war on his side. For the first time in his life, Sirius was terrified. And he didn’t even think before he left in the middle of the night with just a bag of clothes and the money he had hidden in his room. He ran to the Potters who had happily taken him in. Sirius is still trying to adjust to being disowned. He was used to unlimited money and to basically get whatever he wanted. And instead, he has to watch every galleon he spends and once that was gone he knew he’d actually have to get a job. Though his version of not having a lot of money is still a lot to some people. He doesn’t regret it though. He never told anyone exactly WHY he had run away. though he had told his friends enough about his parents, and family in general, that he allowed them to come to their own conclusions and he doesn’t deny anything. but even though he felt hatred for those he was meant to call family he couldn’t bring himself to tell anyone the truth. that betrayal was too much for him. And he didn’t want anyone knowing that his family were so lost in the wrong side they had officially joined the dark lords fight. He still had enough family pride to not let anyone go into Azkaban just for his spite. All he wanted was to move past everything and get on with his own life. He wants to fight for those that deserve a place in this world. He wants to prove that he is more than just his last name.

Before the Dark Lord’s Takeover:

  Almost straight out of Hogwarts Sirius was informed of a group called The Order and he didn’t even need to think before he joined. He knew it was dangerous, and most likely completely reckless, but he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing while all he heard about was the horrors the Death Eaters were creating. But part of him knew that his determination was partly fueled by guilt. He knew who some of those faces behind the masks would be. And thats even more of a reason for him to fight.

But everytime he goes out on a mission he has the fear that his family will finally catch him. And he wasn’t sure what would be worse, them killing him to finally get rid of the runaway heir or force him to go back and fulfill his duties. Either would be equally horrific. But, he can’t deny that a part of him yearns for the family he turned his back on. Yearns to be with his brother and cousins that he loves so much. And everytime he raises a want to a masked face he wonders if is them that is behind it? He isn’t sure how he would be able to live with himself if he ever hurt one of them. And he knows he should hate them. All of them. But, he just can’t bring himself too.

  Other than the Order to try and stay as far away from his old life as possible he got a job working in a pub. Once his dream had been to become an Auror. But working for the Ministry would just be tempting fate. Too many people in that building hate him for being a traitor and the further away from then he was the better. And he does enjoy working in a pub. He just feels as though something is missing.

Present:

 Voldemort rising to power wasn’t something that Sirius ever thought would truly happen. Now more than ever he has a reason for wanting to see him fall. But he knows he has to be careful. As much as he wants to be there to protect James and others that he cares about, he knows just how easy it would be to get sucked in. And he isn’t stupid, he knows that there are people who are trying to get him on the other side. But what really worries him is that he knows deep down that it really wouldn’t be that difficult to convince him. The more time that passes the more he starts to wonder if he truly did choose the right path. Yes, fighting for those that deserve peace was nobel but…was it really worth it now? He has lost so many people that he cares about, seen many more hurt and distraught by this awful war, that he is just…tired. Tired of fighting. And Voldemort winning…is that not a good enough reason to stop? 

  He hates himself for thinking it. But, on the other hand, is being among them not a good way to learn how to take them down? He isn’t sure what is right or what is wrong anymore. He isn’t sure what is the best path to take or if it’s easier to just give up and live the life he has been dealt. But he does know that he will still do what it takes to keep those he loves safe. Even if it means putting his own life on the line.

wanted connections.

family friend - they have known each other since they were little and they may not see eye to eye all the time or have the same beliefs when it comes to purity but they still would die for each other and are super close

first love - could have been at hogwarts or just after but it was the first real relationship sirius has been in and he still has a special place in his heart for them

casual hook up ( past or present ) - always fun!

forbidden romance ??? - someone that is on the opposite side to sirius and they know they should stay away from each other but they just can’t

enemy - they have never gotten along and they will never get along and both are okay with this

frenemy - they hate each other but they are also kinda cool and if they hung out that would be awesome????

hit me up if you have ideas or have any connections you think sirius could fit and we can plot it out! 

[dudemanauthor]

Coco Adel and the Venus of Chult

Author's Note: Part 3 of the writing challenge I mentioned in the previous post.

Fun fact: I stolre the names 'Mezro' and 'Chult' from D&D, specifically the Forgotten Realms setting.

For all the trouble Coco had getting here, the Temple of Mezro really wasn’t that hard to explore once she found this particular needle in the haystack that was the jungle that surrounded it. The layout was fairly straightforward, and calling that one hidden door ‘hidden’ was probably giving it too much credit, unless Coco really was as amazing a treasure hunter as she acted. Inside the hidden room, Coco peered at her prize over her sunglasses. In front of her was what the history books called ‘the Venus of Chult’, a mysterious artifact that allegedly had magical properties that could cause growth. If nothing else, the people who put it here certainly seemed to think that, judging by the faded artwork of obese men and women on the walls of this chamber. Coco had doubts that this artifact was trapped, but she was still being very cautious. At least some of the sweat dampening her tan tank top was from nervousness, but more of it was from the heat, making her want to grab this thing and get back to the tent outside. She wiped her hands off on her dark brown pants, before moving her hands slowly towards the artifact. Then, in one quick movement, she swiped it. She paused a moment. No pit opened up, no spikes or darts shot out from the wall, no boulder coming to crush her, everything seemed fine.

Coco took a moment to examine the artifact in more detail. It certainly seemed to match the descriptions given. It was carved out of pure obsidian into the shape of a very large nude woman. No one part stood out in particular, every part of this carved woman was roughly equally bulky, the figure’s bulkiness likely contributing to the heft of it, as it was not a small figure even ignoring the subject’s weight. Coco thought about what it would have been to meet the carved subject, and would have thought about it more if she hadn’t heard a very unnatural sound. Coco looked around for the source, and didn’t realise what the cause was until she looked down. The immediate thing she noticed was her belly, now fully exposed, rather than just her midriff, as it had grown fatter and rounder seemingly while she was standing here, and it was growing before her eyes. That was when the feeling of tightness from all of her clothes hit her suddenly. She had to get out of here quickly. Turning, she moved out of the secret chamber as quickly as her larger, slower body would carry her. It was no crumbling ruins or anything like that, but the risk of being too large to leave the temple really got Coco moving. She made it up one floor when the clasp of her bra gave out, and only one more when her clothes began to tear. Her run was starting to turn into a very quick waddle, and the sudden size increase made her movements awkward, but before disaster could strike, Coco burst through the temple’s entrance and made her way down the dozens of steps towards the tent.

Inside the tent, Velvet paced nervously. She never liked Coco going off on her own, but Coco was right, her sore shoulder did need the rest. Velvet felt her heart begin to race as her bunny ears’ incredible hearing picked up the sound of footsteps approaching the tent from the temple. They didn’t sound quite like Coco’s, but Velvet was sure it was her girlfriend returning. She raced to the tent flap and almost didn’t believe what she saw. Coco was positively round at this point, most of her massive body tearing through her clothes, exposing her pale flesh. Her gargantuan belly made up most of her size, but her breasts and behind were still far larger than most that Velvet had ever seen. Velvet almost completely missed the idol in Coco’s hand, her eyes were so transfixed on her girlfriend being so massive. Velvet was trembling at the awe-inspiring sight as Coco came to a stop in front of her.

“I got it!” Coco cheered. “Turns out this thing is magic, or something.”

“L-large. You’re so large,” Velvet stuttered. Coco let out a smug chuckle.

“Like what you see, Velv?” Coco teased, putting her arms above her head and shaking her pendulous belly. The fat mass wobbled like jelly, almost hypnotising Velvet. Then, suddenly, the sound of tearing distracted her as Coco’s pants finally gave out on her, falling to the ground in a tattered heap with her panties joining immediately after. Coco then put her arms behind her and stretched, making her bountiful bosom tear through what remained of her tank top. Her massive mammaries spilled out of the ruins of Coco’s top, before Coco tore what little kept the garment on, tossing it on top of her torn pants. Coco sashayed right up to Velvet, her belly against Velvet’s toned body. Velvet had gone bright red and her heart was pounding with arousal and excitement. “Velv, babe, hold this for me, would you?” Coco said, more ordering than asking as she put the idol into Velvet’s hands, before stepping back to admire the view.

Velvet’s jean shorts only lasted a minute as her ballooning rear destroyed them. Her black tank top only lasted another minute longer because of all the weight going to her rear. Soon enough, she was standing, completely nude and horny out of her mind in front of an equally nude and equally horny Coco. It was a good thing the couple were out in the jungle in the middle of nowhere, as the rest of that day was very, very noisy.

[blughxreader]

Say the reader doesn’t eat that much ( they are just never that hungry) would the Batfam make them eat 3 meals a day? Even if they have to force it down their throat? I just got inspired from your latest post 🤩

They abso-fucking-lutely would.

You are a growing person—you need the best quality meals three times a day. No questions or complaints.

They would consider not eating a form of self harm. Even if it was something as harmless as not feeling hungry because you didn’t do much that day, they would still give you a suspicious look. To that too many times in a row, and boom, they’ll diagnose you with an eating disorder.

Their level of aggression towards getting you to eat would depend on the person.

Bruce would not force feed you, ever. He would ground you with every punishment in the book, but he wouldn’t shove food down your throat. Any physical punishment is a no-go for him.

He expects you to tell him exactly why you’re not eating, and Bruce, unlike the others, can be rationalized with. You can make deals, like “I’ll reheat dinner later tonight when I’m hungrier,” and it will typically work so long as you eat it.

If you have an actual aversion to finishing your food or eating in general, he would make you his number one priority. He’d sit next to you at the table, so close your knees touch, and talk you through each spoonful. It’s humiliating, and the only way he’d stop is if you regularly finish your plate.

Dick would infantize you. He’d consider it a good opportunity to strip you of your rights and have a bit of fun with you. He would be worried for sure, but it’s not like you won’t eat—not when he’s there at each meal making you pick the easy or hard way.

Dick is certainly not above force-feeding you, but that’s also not his main goal. It’s to spend time with you and to have you rely on him. So he’ll give you many opportunities to correct your behavior, until you’ll ultimately force his hand.

Jason is the most short-tempered of them all. If you act like a brat then he’ll treat you like one. He enjoys snark and games, but Jason has a zero tolerance policy for anything pertaining to your wellbeing. Putting yourself in harm’s way to any degree is a sure-fire way to wipe any trace of kindness from him. You will eat, even if he has to pry your jaw open.

Wanna piss him off? He dares you. In fact, he wishes you would so he could demonstrate that he’s willing to be the bad guy if it comes to keeping you safe. It’s a good reminder that you don’t have a say, so you should be a good child and listen to the adults. He’ll comfort you after it’s done, but don’t expect him to feel an ounce of remorse.

Tim would take the smartest approach and change your lifestyle rather than eating habits. If you say you’re not hungry, then he’ll give you a reason to be hungry. With Bruce’s permission, you’ll have to do tasks around the house in order to work up an appetite, and Tim will ensure you’re tired enough to eat three full meals a day.

Tim would carefully map your every food intake and come up with a meal plan. You have to stick to it by the calorie if you want him off your back, and because you’ve been working all day, it’s hard to ignore the food in front of you.

If you’re not eating on purpose, then he would definitely force feed you. He could even consider it a bonding moment, because its solely his doing that you’re getting the nutrients to live. It’s almost addicting.

Damian thinks it’s a cry for attention. He’s already upset he can’t spend more time with you, so he spins this story in his head that you need him around in order to function. He thinks of you as the “pure-hearted, simple-minded little sibling,” and thus doesn’t try to punish you initially.

After a stern talking-to about a proper diet, if you’re still not eating he’ll move onto rougher tactics. He’ll shame and berate you, calling your behavior stupid. And after, he’ll cuff you to the table and feed you spoonful by spoonful. He doesn’t like physical aggression with you, but this is something he’s willing to do if you try harming yourself.

[hellfireclub-at-thebau]

SMUT REQUEST: what if spencer had like a bad day at work and once he got home and he saw you he just cuddled up to you and softly started kissing your neck but things started to heat up but very slowly. like he wants to take his time with you and not release his anger on you but for him to take as much time as he wants to and for it to relax himself but also you. IMAGINE HIM BEING WHINY DURING IT TOO!!!(sorry if it doesn't make that much sense.)

i have always found whiny spence really cute.🥰

Sorry it took so long (I have been so busy) but here you go!

Desperate (18+)

Content Rating: Smut

Warnings: mention of death, child death, sub!/switch!spencer, softdom!reader, oral (male and female receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cursing, spanking, choking, hair pulling, pet names, praise, creampie, denial, fingering, masturbation

Summary: After a bad day at work, you figure a cuddle session with your boyfriend Spencer will help soothe him. But it suddenly turns steamy when Spencer decides to mess with your sensitive spots, and he can’t decide how he wants to act.

Word Count: 2.6k

SLAM!

The door shut, paired with a long sigh, as Spencer came home from work in Denver. I jumped from our bed and threw down the book that I had been reading to occupy myself while waiting for his return. 

He threw his keys down on the table with a small clink, his suitcase following with a small thud as it was thrown on our small kitchen table. 

I stood in the doorframe of our bedroom, looking over his body language. Some cases he wanted to just be left alone, and he needed his space. But the especially bad ones needed some TLC from me. 

He ran a hand through his curly hair as he met my stare, curling his lip to a thin line. 

“Kids?” I asked. 

He nodded, taking off his work shoes. “Five of them. That woman was a sick fuck.” He said in a slightly monotone voice, as if he had taken a chapter out of Aaron Hotchner’s book.

“A woman? She… She didn’t go easy, I’m guessing.” I said, taking a few steps away from the doorframe and into our kitchen.

He shook his head. “You can’t win them all.” He said, opening his arms, beckoning me with his fingers as he brought them to his palms twice.

I walked over and wrapped my arms around his torso, my face curling into the crook of his neck. His arms wrapped around my back, holding me a bit tighter than normal.

We stood there in the silence for a moment, as he held me close to him. It was times like these that I wished he didn’t work for the BAU. Cases like these took a toll out of him, like a piece of his soul was lost.

I leaned my head up to kiss his stubbly cheek, pulling myself away from the hug slightly, still letting our arms continue to be wrapped around each other. 

Spencer sighed, almost exasperated. “I can’t help feeling like… pissed off about cases like this.” He licked his lips, obviously trying not to undo his composure and express his pure rage and anger. He was good at hiding it early on, but once he really became triggered, it was as if hell broke loose.

“I mean, it’s okay to feel mad. You see a lot of scary things in your line of work. But, I would kill to have a job as exciting as yours.” I smiled, scrunching my nose as I helped loosen his tie for him. “Wanna cuddle and listen to music?” I asked, checking over his face for any injuries he was trying to hide. 

He smiled, for the first time since he had gotten home, and kissed the tip of my nose, my nose scrunching as he did so. “Sure, that would be wonderful.” 

He took my hand and walked with me to our couch, picking up the remote as he lied down on his back along the length of the couch. I took my usual position draped over his body, considering there wasn’t much space. 

He flipped through the stations as I made myself comfortable, tucking my face in the crook of his neck, one arm tucked under his neck, the other resting my hand on his pectoral, just enough to feel his heart beating.

It was a sweet sound, the complete silence in our apartment, save for the beating heart of my beloved doctor and our synchronized breathing. 

His hands placed themselves gently on my back, after picking a livestream of some oldies music, manipulated to sound like they were being played on an old record player, while he was practically squeezing me tighter than ever before. 

He sighed, as if letting something go that he was desperately holding onto while on his way home. “I could stay like this forever.” 

“Yeah, let’s see if you say that once your legs fall asleep.” I giggled, propping myself up slightly, keeping my hands where they were placed originally. 

He chuckled, using his calloused, muscular hands to place a chunk of hair behind my ear, moving his hand smoothly to rest it on my cheek. His palm was worn, riddled with new and old calluses and blisters from work. But despite them, his touch was soft, delicate, like fresh cotton sheets. 

I leaned down to kiss him, slowly pressing my lips against his own. He followed suit, allowing our lips to dance across each other in their own foxtrot. 

He pressed his fingers against my chin, gently tipping it upward so he could move his lips against my jawline and my neck. I giggled, a small blush appearing on my cheeks. “And what do you think you’re doing?” I asked, looking over and past his head to let him continue with his kisses.

He moved his lips away from my skin for a moment. “It’s hard missing you so much at work, and not being able to pleasure myself.” Spencer explained, before attacking my neck with rougher kisses.

It was true, he couldn’t masturbate while on a case. He always shared a hotel room with another agent, it was rare that the room was all his own. He would be mortified if he made Morgan or Prentiss leave the room, masturbate, and in turn, have them find out that was what he was doing in the first place. 

It was lonely here without him, too. I couldn’t just summon him while he was gone, but I had the time to myself. Sometimes I hold out until he comes back, other times I don’t. And when I don’t, Spencer likes to let me know exactly how wrong I was to orgasm under my own hand, and not his.

His hands moved to my hips, pushing them against his own and his body began to writhe beneath me. I could tell he was desperate, and desperate Spencer is a fun Spencer.

“And what do you wanna do about it?” I ask, a small hint of mischief hidden within my tone.

He pulled away from me to smile. I could see the wheels turning. “God, I want to really, just, make sweet love to you. But I’m still just… so upset about the case. I don’t wanna hurt you.” 

I giggled, hiding my face in the crook of his neck.

“Please, baby. It’s been so long. Let me make you feel good.” Spencer whined.

I smiled softly. “Of course.” I then kissed his cheek. “And you could never hurt me, baby boy.” I cooed in his ear.

He shot up at the pet name, bringing me with him as he sat up. I could feel the tent growing in his pants; there was no hiding it. 

I moved off of his lap, standing up from the couch. “Go get ready for me, baby. I’m gonna get some water.” I said with a low tone, walking over to the kitchen before he had any room to object. 

I could hear him scrambling from the couch to our bedroom, practically feeling his giddy energy from ten feet away. I grabbed a cup from the kitchen cabinet, turning on the sink to pour myself a glass of tap water. I took my time drinking it. The longer he waited, the more desperate he became. And besides, who knows if he needs a light reprimand?

After finishing my glass, I made my way to the bedroom, where Spencer had managed to get himself in his white wife beater tank, and his plaid blue boxers. His erection was evident, begging to be freed from the thin cloth. 

I gave him a smile, walking forward briskly, kissing him with more hunger than before. His stubble rubbed against my skin, but that was nothing compared to his tongue battling mine for dominance, the ferocity like that of a tiger. 

He slid his hands up my sweatshirt, pulling it off. I could feel him smile into the kiss once he realized I wasn’t wearing a bra the whole time. He moved his lips down to my neck, his hands squeezing my ass tightly. He found my most tender spot in my neck, and began to suck. 

“Spencer…” I whispered, prompting a smirk from my lover. 

I gripped onto his back as he continued to nibble on my skin, his thick thumbs taking hold of my shorts, pulling them down with my panties. I was dripping wet, but he could never know that yet. I moved my hands to his tank, practically ripping it off him before working on his boxers. I moved them down, setting his beast free. 

I could see the glisten of pre-cum on his head, which I quickly spread with my thumb. He shivered, his cock twitching in my hand. “Does that feel good?” I asked.

He nodded against my skin, his hands trailing to my center before I removed my hands from him and grabbed them. 

“I didn’t say you could touch there yet.”

He let out a small, frustrated whine. “Angel, please. You know how much I’ve wanted to devour you.” 

I chuckled, pointing to the small chair by the closet door. “Sit.” I ordered, moving away from him and hopping onto the bed. 

He reluctantly moved, sitting on the wooden chair.

“I’m going to touch myself now. And when I do, all you can do is watch. No jacking off.” I explained, letting a hand move down to my clit, creating small circles with my index and middle finger.

He let out another loud whine. “Y/N, please. I want to be the one to do that for you.” He whined, squirming in his seat with wide eyes.

I stayed silent, wrapping a hand in my hair as I inserted two fingers inside myself. I let out a sharp exhale, my back arching slightly. My g-spot shivered with the sensation of my two digits. Spencer looked like he could cry, gripping the sides of the chair’s seat with white knuckles.

I could feel my walls tighten around my fingers; the more I fucked myself with them, the more Spencer whined in his seat. 

I couldn’t stand it anymore. Beckoning my boyfriend with my hand, Spencer jumped from his seat and pulled my thighs apart, spreading them apart more than they already were. “Eat my fucking pussy, baby boy.” I ordered, his mouth attaching itself to my clit.

I moaned, my thighs twitching as my sensitive clit was sucked on. His teeth grazing over my delicate nerves, I pulled on his curly locks of hair. He peered up at me from between my legs, moving one of his hands to insert two long fingers inside my cunt. 

“Oh my god…” I moaned, my legs and hips twitching more as my delicate, sensitive clit began to shiver under his tongue. 

He smirked against my center and I sat up, moving his head away. “Do you think you deserve to have your cock sucked?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

His eyebrows furrowed, his posture more upright as he became desperate for my mouth. “Lovey, please. Please suck my cock. You don’t even need to suck me for long, just fucking suck my cock.” He whined, intertwining his hands behind my hair and pulling me into a sloppy kiss. 

His mouth crashed against mine, while he let me move him so he was lying on the bed. I straddled him, kissing him feverishly. His hands gently grabbed my waist, as I moved my lips to his neck. He extended his neck to the side, taking in every kiss like a shot of heroin. 

I continued my kisses down to his chest, letting my hands trail along beside my lips. He shivered, goosebumps appearing with each touch of my soft, pale hands against his chest. I kissed down to his pelvis, his cock twitching the closer I got to the base of his cock. 

Pushing his cock aside, my mouth attached to his balls, sucking on them lightly at first. Peering up at him to gauge his reaction, my favorite thing to do, I sucked harder with each moan. He gently grabbed my hair, pulling it out of my face. 

“You look so beautiful like that, your mouth on my cock. God, I can’t get enough.” He whispered, his praises interrupted by his moans as my mouth engulfed his large member. I slowly let my mouth travel down his member, engulfing him whole to get used to the gagging feeling. The head hitting the back of my throat just fine, I began at a slow pace. 

Letting my hand slowly twist as I sucked him, giving him two different sensations, he bucked into my mouth. Tears welled in my eyes the more I gagged on his dick, his groans getting louder and louder. “Good girl, fuck, you’re so good at sucking cock.” He praised, leaning forward slightly to smack the top of my ass.

My back arched at the slap, but I quickened my pace, spit trailing down my chin and to my chest, my breasts glistening with saliva. 

“Fuck me, baby. I don’t want to cum in your mouth, I want that fucking pussy.” He whined, still holding onto my hair. 

I released my mouth from his cock, a trail of spit between his cock and my mouth. I continued to stroke him as I sat up, carefully making my way to straddle him.

He held my hip with one hand, the other wiping the spit from my chin and covering one of my nipples with it. I lowered myself onto his cock, my stomach aching with the feeling of his cock hitting my inner core. 

He groaned, moving his hand from my chest to my other hip. I placed my hands on either side of his head, getting a good and comfortable stance. 

My ass began to bounce up and down on his cock, my breasts practically bouncing in his face the more I quickened my pace. He propped himself up with his feet, his knees pointing upward as he matched my bouncing with his own, equally rough thrusts. 

I moaned loudly, my forehead colliding with his, and my eyes closing shut the more I began to climb to an orgasm. His animalistic growls only made my pleasure more enjoyable. He was vocal in bed, something that seriously turned me on. 

I snaked a hand to his throat, keeping myself propped up. He looked at me with an innocent, but equally dark look in his eyes. “Keep going, baby. Don’t ever fucking stop.” I spat in the midst of my moans. 

Almost in the blink of an eye, he flipped us over, his cock never leaving my tight cunt. He maneuvered his hand to hold both of my wrists together, his other hand wrapping itself even tighter around my throat. 

“You lie there and fucking take that, dirty whore.” He spat, sweat forming on his forehead. His hair fell in front of his eyes, moving back and forth with his thrusts. 

I moaned even louder, my stomach tightening as I was at the peak of my orgasm. “Fuck, baby, let me cum.” I begged, my hips colliding with his.

His response was a simple growl as he quickened his pace, the headboard of the bed practically making a dent in the wall. I could feel him orgasm, and my stomach quivered as I reached mine. He groaned, his warm spunk filling my pussy and spilling out of me, dripping down onto the bed below me. 

He panted, leaning down to give me a sloppy, but sweet kiss. He moved to the side, pulling me close as he declined from his orgasm. 

After sitting in a pregnant silence for a moment or two, he softly moved my hair from my face and smiled at me. “Did I hurt you?” He asked. 

I shook my head. “You could never hurt me, my love.”