#told my dogs goodnight :)

[kolektsiakomah]

poppy playtimers do we still fw dogday = rich theory . bc i do even if its been debunked im still here someone help

[bitchdafuqyousay]

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[augiewrites]

"valley reverie" - sebastian

summary: the timeline of sebastian and the farmer’s relationship based on canon dialogue

pairing: sdv sebastian x farmer

word count: 2.5K

a/n: this may be my magnum opus

The sun was beginning its descent behind the mountains when Sebastian emerged from the house for the first—and only—time that day.

He shot a glance to his mother and Demetrius, who were standing at the edge of their property, looking over the valley bathed in golden light. His mother sent a small smile back, followed by a pointed disappointed look at the carton of cigarettes held loosely in his glance. Demetruis didn’t acknowledge his existence.

Sebastian knew it was a nasty habit, but he spent most of his life with not much thought to the future—he was surprised he made it this far. Maybe his life would have been different if he had planned better; if he had considered for a moment that there was such a thing as life past sixteen, then eighteen, then twenty-one. He supposed he should start to consider a life past twenty-four, but quickly dropped the thought as he placed the cigarette between his lips and continued his stroll to the lake.

He saw it then, as his lighter sparked to life and helped the cigarette take eleven minutes off his.

Someone was sitting in his spot. A humanoid blob of denim focused intently on the bobber floating in the water.

He hesitated, then decided to keep moving—his trajectory now locked in past the stranger and across the rickety planks of wood to the smaller islands in the middle of the lake. His mother had been saying for years that she needed to build something more structurally sound, but had yet to get around to it.

As he got closer, he took in more of the scene. There was a muddy bucket next to the stranger, and he noticed a couple slimy carp flopping around inside. Whoever this was, they clearly didn’t have enough experience to catch the tricker creatures in the lake.

Just as he was about to slip past toward solitude, he locked eyes with the stranger. Their bored expression quickly turned to worry.

“Sorry, am I in your spot? Robin said it was okay for me to fish here.”

Recognition sparked in his brain—his mother had told him about the new resident of Pelican Town. The words she had used to describe them flashed behind his eyes: sweet, a little lost, cute. That last one was sent his way with an exaggerated wink and met with a scoff from him.

“Oh. You just moved in, right? Cool.”

The farmer didn’t respond, just looked on waiting for an answer to their question. Sebastian didn’t gratify them with a response, instead looking across the lake at the tree line and abandoned quarry.

“Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?”

The farmer scrunched up their mouth slightly, beginning to reel in their line. There was nothing but a limp worm dangling from the hook. Sebastian took note of the grieving look flashing on their face before it was gone in a blink.

“Better than where I was.”

Sebastian didn’t bother responding as the farmer heaved up the bucket—they were a lot stronger than they looked—and walked away without another word.

Robin smiled at the farmer with a wave and shouted goodnight before sending another disapproving look to her son.

_________________________________________

Sebastian heaved open the door of the house, exhausted from band practice. Sam was his best friend, and he enjoyed spending time with him more than he would admit, but the newest addition to the band was definitely a hindrance.

He didn’t dislike Abigail, and he couldn’t deny that she was a talented drummer, but he had been hoping for years that her little crush on him would fade away. He could only take so much of puppy dog eyes and over exaggerated laughter at his quips that definitely aren’t that funny.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts on how to shake off the purple-haired girl—more importantly, how to shake her off without actual confrontation—that he didn’t notice the farmer leaning against the shop counter until their voice pierced through. His mother was nowhere to be seen, so they had to have been talking to him.

“What? I didn't hear you...I'm busy thinking about something. What do you want?”

The farmer narrowed their eyes at him, leveling him with a glare. “You know, I get that you’d rather be listening to My Chemical Romance and jerking off to Nietzsche than interacting with a human being, but you really need to work on your people skills.”

Well, he hadn’t been expecting that.

He expected avoidance from the farmer, based on their first meeting and subsequent run-ins where they gave him a nod of acknowledgement before going back to acting like he didn’t exist.

He realized that the farmer wasn’t as timid and one-dimensional as he let himself think.

The moment was saved by Robin entering the shop room and dropping a workbench on the floor with a heavy thud. “You’ll make better use of this than I have lately—it’s pretty old,” she looked up from the dusty bench, noticing her son frozen in the doorway, “oh, hi Sebby.”

“Sebby?” the farmer questioned with a smirk.

Sebastian rolled his eyes, brushing past his mother to get to his lair.

“Sorry about him,” he heard his mother as he descended the stairs.

“It’s fine,” the farmer laughed, “he’s cool.”

He couldn’t help the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. _________________________________________

Sebastian looked down at the frozen tear in his hand with a neutral expression on his face, though his heart was quickening its pace.

“Gunther told me it’s fabled to be the frozen tears of a yeti.”

He met the farmer’s grin with one of his own, “I really love this. How did you know?”

They shrugged, “Seemed like some emo shit you’d be into.”

A breathy laugh escaped him before he could stop it. “Well…thanks.”

“No prob. I’ll keep an eye out for more when I’m in the mines.”

“The mines?,” his brow furrowed, “how far down did you go?”

“Not super deep, I think I stopped at sixty since it was getting late.”

Sebastian gaped at the farmer—who he now realized he really misjudged—as they shouldered their backpack and turned toward the door.

“Oh,” they stopped just shy of the threshold, “your code is wrong, by the way. Third line down.”

He looked to the screen, baffled, seeing that there was, in fact, a mistake in his code.

He began to ask the farmer how they knew that, but they were gone. _________________________________________

The sun was setting on the valley, and Sebastian found himself sitting by the lake’s edge with the farmer, who was reeling in sturgeon and bass with ease.

“I’m sure the city’s different for other people, but it was corporate hell for me,” the farmer spoke softly as they baited their hook—it was different than any bait he had ever seen, and the farmer had informed him that the wild man living behind their house had taught them the recipe.

Sebastian hummed, “I guess that makes sense.”

“You guess?” the farmer teased him, flicking water at his face.

He blew a puff of smoke in their face.

The farmer coughed, then began to laugh as they fanned the smoke out of their face, “asshole.”

Sebastian grinned, leaning back on the palms of his hands and gazing across the water.

They sat in comfortable silence as the farmer cast out their line and half-heartedly focused on the bobber—they didn’t really need it anymore, but liked the safety net.

“You and Sam are probably my only friends in this town.” Sebastian broke the silence, but continued looking straight ahead.

“Well I am very likable.”

Sebastian knocked their shoulders together with a scoff.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” _________________________________________

Sebastian was indifferent—and sometimes loathful—toward most events held in their little town, but tonight was an exception. It was hard to not be in awe of the midnight jellies, and he was excited for the farmer to see them for the first time.

They were perched at the edge of the dock, along with Sam and Abigail, their feet dangling inches above the water.

It was a lot colder than expected, and the farmer was bundled in his black jacket. He couldn’t help but feel bad about the sad glances Abigail was sending their way.

The farmer looked content, and Sebastian recalled something they told him at the beginning of the season—the used to be terrified of the ocean before moving to the valley.

He nudged their shoulder with his own. It didn’t take much effort—they were sitting a lot closer than he realized. A light blush dusted his cheekbones.

“I thought I saw something moving in there…” he pointed to the void of the ocean and leaned closer to their ear, whispering, “something big, something dark.”

The farmer’s eyes widened as they looked across the vast darkness before they narrowed and turned to him.

“Just trying to scare you...” Sebastian laughed.

The farmer smiled, knocking their knee against his, muttering an all too familiar “asshole.”

It wasn’t too long before Lewis sent out the first lantern, and the water surrounding the docks was filled with glowing jellyfish.

“It’s beautiful,” the farmer breathed out as their head landed on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” his eyes landed on a glowing green jelly before looking down at the farmer, “it is.” _________________________________________

Sebastian never saw the farm in its full glory—before the farmer’s grandfather grew old and passed away—but he had been there plenty of times when it was overgrown and abandoned.

He had told the farmer this as they sat on the newly installed swinging bench on their porch. They joked that they would be suing him for trespassing, since it was technically their property at the time, even if they hadn’t known it.

It was a chilly fall day, but the farmer had made a pot of coffee to keep them warm.

“I thought this was your busy season,” Sebastian lit up a cigarette and moved the ashtray closer to where he sat. It was a newer addition to the farmer’s decor. He thought about the prideful look on their face as they held it up and told him that Leah let them use her pottery wheel. It was painted with little creatures that looked like the much happier cousins of the slimes living in the caves.

The farmer hummed, holding their mug close to their face, but not taking a sip, “Yeah…a lot busier than I thought it would be, actually.”

He grinned at them, “so, you’re slacking today, huh?”

The farmer laughed.

“I’d rather hang out with your sorry ass than work.” Despite the insult, the farmer’s tone was soft and earnest. Sebastian felt his cheeks heat up.

“Could you picture me living on a farm? It seems ridiculous, but I have been thinking about it lately.”

“If I could do it, then so could you,” the farmer linked their pinky with his, “it’s a lot more freeing than you’d think.” _________________________________________

Boxes filled with Sebastian’s things lined the walls of the farmhouse, but Sebastian and the farmer lay in bed, choosing to ignore them. 

They had all the time in the world.

The farmer was twirling the pendant dangling from Sebastian’s neck, “there’s steam coming out of your ears, Seb,” the farmer giggled and smoothed out the wrinkle between his brows with their finger.

“I’ve just been thinking,” Sebastian turned his attention from the ceiling to the farmer, “The older I get, the less I'm drawn to the city. It had a certain mystique to it, once. But it turns out that was just a romantic fantasy. The city's so busy, so full of people... I don't belong there. I'm a loner.”

A beat.

“Present company excluded, of course.”

The farmer laughed, “Well I would hope so,” they tugged gently on the pendant, pulling him closer, “because you’re stuck with me.” _________________________________________

Sebastian and the farmer had joined his family for dinner, and his mother had shooed them away with one hand as she cooed at the bundle held tightly in her other arm.

The valley was coming to life, but the ghost of a winter chill was in the air. They settled down by the lake despite the cold. It was no longer his spot, but theirs.

The farmer was skipping stones across the lake when he grumbled about how being in that spot made him want a smoke.

“No one’s stopping you,” the farmer laughed.

“I am.”

The farmer still held a loose smile as they raised their eyebrows at him, “oh?”

“I'm trying my best to quit smoking now that we're married…” He avoided their gaze and brushed some mud on the palm of his hand onto his jeans, “I don't wanna die on you. It's a bad habit. I want to have a future together.”

A baby cried in the distance. Sebastian and the farmer smiled at each other. _________________________________________

The farmer was surprised to find Sebastian’s side of the bed empty when they woke up. It wasn’t a rare occasion, as they usually found Sebastian in the kitchen after a restless sleep, but he was nowhere to be found.

They couldn’t help but worry a little bit as they pulled on their boots and opened the screen door. They paused out of instinct to let the dog run out before them only to realize that the dog wasn’t hot on their heels like usual.

They had only gotten two steps onto the porch before a mass of fur and slobber crashed into their legs.

“Oh hello baby,” they cooed down at the dog as it rolled onto its back, breathing heavily out of excitement, “good morning stink.”

“Good morning to you too.”

The farmer was so caught up in giving the dog attention that they hadn’t noticed Sebastian leaning against the porch railing.

They straightened from their crouch, smiling at him as the dog whined from the loss of affection.

“I couldn’t fall back asleep, so I went ahead and fed the animals,” he pushed off the railing and took a few steps forward to fix a rogue piece of the farmer’s hair, “one less thing for you to do.”

“Thanks, Seb,” the farmer said softly, suddenly bashful, “I’m going to check on the pumpkins. Thought I could make some soup tonight if any of them are ripe.”

They took a few steps off the porch, “feel like being a country boy today? Or did you get your fix?”

He smiled, leaning his forearms against the railing, “I'll just watch you from here. I enjoy watching you.” _________________________________________

Sebastian and the farmer found themselves sitting on the porch swing once again. It was a mild summer evening, and he was looking on as a toddler played with the dog in the yard.

He tore his attention away from the rowdy scene in front of him to look at the farmer, who was curled up at his side reading a book. He felt his heart swell.

“This is so different from my old life, but I'm really starting to like it. I feel like I really belong here.”

The farmer looked up from the book in their lap, smiling.

“I don't often show it, but I'm really happy that I'm your husband. Marrying you was the best decision I ever made.”

[fic-over-cannon]

Sweetheart

inspired by @sanguineterrain’s hc about virgin! jason which truly has not left my mind since i read it.

rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.6k

tags: kissing, masturbation, loss of virginity, vaginal sex, creampie, overstimulation

Jason Todd’s just so goddamn sensitive, nerves set on a hair trigger, all the time. Call it a side effect of death or a fun little bonus from resurrection. Wherever it came from, it’s just part of his life now. And, see, normally it’s not a problem. In fact, it probably makes him better at this whole crime lord business. The slightest change in the airflow of a room tipping him off to an unseen assailant, the tremors traveling up the balls of his feet signalling an approaching vehicle, palm wrapped around a throat able to read a lie from a racing pulse. He’s adaptable like that, turning something that might have overwhelmed him into a weapon. It’s really not a problem.

Just like it’s not a problem that he’s never really been in love before. Between dying, then not dying, and an abrupt and burgeoning career in crime, well, dating hasn’t been very high on his list of priorities. It’s fine! So maybe he fucks his fist after a long night of patrol and wishes it were someone he was coming home to. He’s got more pressing things to worry about, important things. Red Hood things. His half-hidden fantasies and dog-eared classic romances can stay hidden under his bed forever, for all he cares.

He cares. Did he say he didn’t care? Well obviously that was a big fat lie. Jason nearly mows you down running across the park and the minute his hands close around your arms to steady you, he’s a goner. Heart eyes and tweety birds, the whole nine yards. Being in love with you’s the easiest thing Jason’s ever done. Maybe his hands shake a little more than they should the first time you ask him to dinner. Maybe he blurs the line between creepy and sweet by showing up at your doorstep with flowers less than 12 hours after your first date. He’s just new at this, that’s all. First time jitters.

There’s a lot of firsts, when it comes to you. The first time you hold his hand, he feels the the tips of his ears go hot. You kiss him on the cheek and he could swear NASA can see the colour of his cheeks from space. The very first time he kisses you – goodnight at your doorstep, meant to be chaste and brief – he’s half-hard in his pants the second he feels your breath on his skin. It’s a miracle, a sheer testament to all his will and training, that he doesn’t come in his pants on your doorstep at the taste of you.

Okay, so there’s some kinks he has to work out. He’s told you that he’s inexperienced. Well, more than inexperienced. A virgin, if you want to get all technical about it. You had smiled and told him the two of you could take it slow if he wanted. Which he didn’t. Want it slow, that is. That leads him to a new and persistent obsession with making it good for you, despite his current track record. Before you, the goal of getting off was efficiency. Hand slick and a few harsh tugs enough to have him spilling into a tissue. But that was before. He’s got a goal and a plan and Jason’s always been good with an objective.

He settles in and makes a mental note to get more lube. Gets his hand firm around his shaft because he knows, just knows, that the minute he starts teasing the head of his cock it’ll be over. Gives himself a few looser strokes just to get used to the sensation, gun callous catching on his foreskin and sending a frisson of pleasure up his spine. He watches his stomach muscles ripple and clench in retaliation. Begins to work his hand a little faster, adding a rough twist to each stroke that has him panting for breath. Pre starts beading at the tip of his cock and he swipes an errant thumb at it. He bucks and nearly moans at the sensation, the rough heated pad of his thumb setting his nerves on fire. Throws his head back eyes closed as his he increases the pace, lost to the burning heat building in his belly. He pictures your face smiling up at him on a particularly tight swipe over the head of his cock and comes harder than he ever has before, hot spurts decorating his stomach. His stopwatch reads 0:1:37. With a grunt, he reaches for his cock again.

By the time morning comes, far too soon and far too bright, Jason’s managed to increase his time. Not by much, but hey, that’s still progress in his book. He’s also discovered two new things about himself: 1) with just the right pressure he can stay hard between orgasms (hooray for illegal and mystical stimulant baths!), and 2) the image of you is more than enough to shove him over the edge, every single time. Fact number two may be a problem. ‘Cause if just the thought of you has him creaming in his pants like a pimply teen in a stiff breeze, having you under him in the flesh might actually kill him. It’s okay though, he’ll have more time to practice before you two get anywhere close to that. Or not.

The two of you are lying on your bed kissing, the kind of slow, lazy make-out that wouldn’t really be going anywhere only Jason’s got your thigh rubbing up in between his legs and that same hair trigger sensitivity. He swears he can almost feel the soft heat of your skin through the rough drag of denim. Your plush lips open wider and he surges forward, eager to notch himself closer. He’s clumsy like this, limbs too big and uncoordinated with you under him. His hips start undulating of their own accord at the extra friction, and you slip a hand into the back pocket of his jeans to urge him on. It’s good, so good, God why did he never realize it could be this good? The sensation of you below him, warm and solid, and the rough-pressure-heat on his cock is all it takes. You swallow his moan as he comes in his pants, wet splotch blooming darkly. His hands tighten around you. Jason pants and moans into your throat, hips weakly grinding his cock against you through it. Red-faced, it takes him longer than it should to realize that you’re cooing at him.

“–good, sweetheart? You were so good for me, taking what you needed.”

Shame and embarrassment light him up, battling with the litany of sweetheart, sweetheart, she called me sweetheart currently striking him dumb. He buries his face into your neck, can feel the temperature difference between his flaming cheeks and your skin.

“’M sorry,” he says meekly, “I didn’t mean to come so fast. Swear it. I’ll do better next time.” Worry curls in his stomach, faint echoes of embarrassment about leaving you unsatisfied. Can’t bear to look you in the eye, feeling stripped back and vulnerable as he is. His hips are still working against yours, grinding the sensitive head of his cock into his damp boxers. You laugh.

“What’re you talking about, Jay? You were perfect, so perfect for me sweetheart.” And Jason wants to crawl out of his skin because ‘perfect’ is not a word that gets applied to him often. Not one that he thought applied now, coming in his pants so quickly, before he’s even made you feel good. Ignoring the stubborn prickling at the backs of his eyes and the warmth quickly spreading down his chest, he kisses the sweet column of your throat.

“Wanna return the favour,” he whines, licking up the salt of your skin. Your grip tightens in his hair.

“Yeah? You gonna be good for me again?” you tease, breathless. One of your hands grips his own, glides it down to the elasticized waistband of your underwear.

Jason’s pretty sure he’s been electrified when he feels just how wet you are. He’s also pretty sure this is the closest he’s ever gotten to a pretty girl’s underwear too. Thick fingers glide easily between your folds. You’re hotter than he expected, slick collecting in his palm. His index finger catches on your entrance, thumb hunting for your clit. He knows he’s found it when you sigh into his ear, and he grins. Maybe he’s not so bad at this whole sex thing after all. Slowly, he starts to spear you open on one thick finger and chokes. Jason’s never felt anything so fucking tight. He groans into your collarbone. Your walls tighten up around him at the vibration and it goes straight to his cock. If he hadn’t just come, he’d be making a mess in his pants right now. Again. The thought of how good your slick, wet, heat would feel squeezing around his cock vice-like has him lightheaded.

“Can I– please can I?” he begs, delirious with how badly he wants this.

“Gotta use your words, sweetheart,” you say breathlessly, voice hitching as he fucks his finger back into you. “Need to ask for what you want.”

“Please, please, can I fuck you? Want it. Want it so bad,” Jason whines. He can taste the want, sparks dancing on his tongue, blood rushing in his ears. His whole body aches with it.

“S’all you had to say, sweetheart.” A hand grips him through his damp jeans and he bucks into the touch, a writhing mass of nerves and need. “You gonna take care of me? Huh?” The zipper inches down and he almost sobs. “Gonna be good to me, sweetheart?” All the air rips out of his lungs at the burning brand of a palm finally touching his spent cock. 

Jason doesn’t recognize his own voice, high and reedy, babbling “I promise, I promise, I promise.” He’s gasping, greedy, mouth open and searching blindly for yours. 

He whimpers – the Red Hood honest to god whimpers – when you pull away. His brain starts to come back online when you start tugging at the hem of his shirt and he almost face plants into the mattress in his eagerness to get his pants and shirt off at the same time. You laugh as your bra hits the floor somewhere to the side of the bed and pull him down for another kiss, a soft nip at the swell of his bottom lip that has him trailing after you. Your legs open to cradle his hips and Jason figures this must be the next best thing to paradise. He shudders at the pressure of his cock trapped between your bellies.

“Now you’re gonna give me all–” you give a slow roll of your hips that has Jason’s vision going blurry at the feeling of every inch of him trapped between you, “– of that. You’re gonna be this–” another slow, filthy roll that has him cotton-mouthed, “–deep in me, sweetheart, and you’re gonna keep fucking me until I tell you to stop.” Your hand at the nape of his neck pulls his hair back until he’s looking right in the eye. It’s a hungry, dark stare that greets him and Jason thinks that if this is what it’s like to be eaten alive, he’ll die a happy man (if you’ll let him).

He gets so distracted by the wicked grin on your face that he barely notices the hand guiding his cock to your entrance until the head is pushing into your burning heat. His mouth snaps shut and his jaw clenches, desperate to keep it together. Your legs lock around him, urging him forward. Inch by inch he slowly thrusts his way into you, sanity hanging on by a thread as he fights the urge to just fuck into your tight cunt. Finally, finally, his hips meet yours, cock fully sheathed inside of another person for the first time. He pants open mouthed into the side of your neck, trying so hard to be good for you. 

“Not a virgin now, are you sweetheart?” you whisper, hand stroking through his sweaty curls. “Now move.”

Like a shot from one of his beloved .45s, Jason starts pistoning into you, pulling his cock out until it’s almost slipping out and hammering right back in to the hilt. You’re tight, so fucking tight that he doesn’t know how he’s ever gonna go back to his fist after this. His rhythm’s sloppy, cunt drunk and chasing his next high but he can’t make himself stop. Sweat beads on his chest and tears dot his lashes. He howls as you cant your hips up and drag a hand across his chest, nails catching on a nipple. The slippery clutch of your cunt burns away all his good intentions, just a mewling, writhing creature desperate to feel good. The burning heat in his gut is building, his arms trembling from exertion. Its too soon, too soon for him to be ready to come again but the high in his veins and the tenseness in his belly are screaming otherwise.

It’s not fair, he’s– he’s trying so hard and it’s not fair because you haven’t even come once and here he is being greedy and about to come again. It’s not fair. There’s real tears of frustration beading up in his eyes now, face and body flushed red, sticky sweet.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’msorryI’msorryM’sorry,” he keens, high and hysterical as he comes, hot pulsing spurts deep inside you. He’s not– it’s not stopping God why is it not stopping? He’s never come for this long but it just won’t stop and he can’t move, not with your ankles locked so tight around his hips. Jason’s face burns with the shame, eyes screwed up tight and trying not to tear the sheets fisted in his hands. A hand cups his face, runs a thumb lovingly over a cheekbone until he screws up the courage to crack open his eyes a smidge.

“There’s my sweetheart. Doing so well for me.” A finger brushes away the tear threatening to fall from the corner of his eye. “Felt so good you just couldn’t stop yourself from coming again, hmm?” you clench down on his cock and the punched out sound that leaves him has Jason shying away in embarrassment. “None of that now. Not when you’re being so good.” You bite down on the tendon in his neck, grinning around your teeth as his whole body shudders, before laving a broad tongue over it. “You’ve still gotta job to do, don’t you? Gotta fuck all of your cum into me, gotta keep it where it belongs.”

Jelly limbed, its easy to push Jason onto his back. His cock never even leaves your cunt. Gravity does all the work as you spear yourself open on him. He moans, high punched out little things, cock bullying even deeper into you. Jason’s so sensitive now, riding the edge of pleasure-pain like a knife. He feels flayed open, nerves raw, as you grind and clench yourself up and down his shaft. You pull one of his palms to your breast, teach him how to squeeze it, the way you like having your nipples pinched and rolled. You ride him and every time you pull off of him Jason holds his breath until you’re fucked back down onto him. He’s so overstimulated it hurts, teeth grinding as you continue to fuck him for your pleasure, like he’s just the guy that happens to be attached to a fat dick.

“I didn’t say to stop, did I?”

[barcaatthemoon]

separated || leah williamson x reader ||

you an leah are forced into separate hotel rooms for camp.

"i want you to know that i am not happy about this," ella said as the two of you walked into the elevator together. you looked at leah who was talking to alessia in the lobby with a pout. the two of you had been so close to getting to room together, but ella had opened her big mouth about seeing the two of you making out in the bathroom at the airport, effectively getting you separated. and since ella was the one to blab, she had been the one to get a surprise new roommate.

"well, neither am i." you crossed your arms over your chest. leah looked amused as she glanced over towards you. alessia gave ella a similar look, and you turned to see the girl doing the same thing you were. "all i wanted was a few nights with my girlfriend."

"i never get to see less anymore," ella whined. you did feel bad for the younger player, even if she was the whole reason for the new situation. the two of you continued to butt heads for the rest of the day, constantly getting into arguments about the smallest little things.

lucy kept rolling her eyes every single time that she noticed it, as did the other older players. the two of you couldn't help yourselves. you knew that you were acting like a brat, but you weren't rooming with leah, so she couldn't do anything about it. at least that's what the both of you had thought at first.

"rest up girls, you've got an early morning ahead of youse," sab said. everybody was shuffling towards the elevators, so you went to the stairwell instead. there weren't too many girls with the same idea, so you were relatively alone when leah joined you.

"are you and tooney going to be okay?" leah asked. she was genuinely concerned about the two of you. you could fight like siblings, but this seemed a little more emotionally charged than normal. you shrugged as you leaned against the stair railing. the two of you had made it to leah's floor, yours two flights of stairs above hers.

"we'll get over ourselves eventually. just wait, she'll want to borrow my lotion or something stupid tomorrow and start sucking up," you said. leah could tell that you were still sort of upset, hopeful that a good night's rest would fix that for you.

"alright, well, goodnight," leah said. she moved towards the door, causing you to spring into action. leah heard the bit of clatter from your sudden movement and turned to see you looking at her like a confused puppy dog. "what's wrong?"

"where is my goodnight kiss?" you asked her. leah rolled her eyes, but leaned in and gave you a peck on the lips. immediately, you tried to deepen the kiss, but leah wasn't having any of it. "leah."

"behave yourself. we have a free day coming up, behave yourself and make good with tooney if you want us to spend it together," leah told you. you whined again, but nodded in agreement. "bye, i love you."

"i love you too." leah couldn't have described your tone as anything other than pathetic. she gave you another kiss because she did feel bad before going on her way. you sulked up to your room and immediately crashed down onto the bed, not even giving tooney a glance as she sat on the phone with her grandmother.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Dogs II

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle x Child!Reader

Summary: You don't like Ona

Mum and Mummy break up.

That's what they tell you anyway.

They say they're not in love with each other anymore.

You ask if that means they don't love you anymore.

They say no.

You ask if that means they don't love Narla anymore.

They say no.

You tell them that as long as you and Narla can stay together then it's fine.

Mum and Mummy call it a custody schedule. It means that you spend two week sleeping at Mum's house and then two weeks sleeping at Mummy's house.

Narla comes with you too.

You have the same custody schedule as her.

Things are different now that you don't all live together. Most of the different things are at Mum's house.

Like Ona.

She's from the bad Manchester and she's been hanging around the house a lot. You don't know what to make of her but you don't like the way she's taken Mummy's old seat at the table or the way that she's been sleeping on Mummy's side of the bed.

She sits in the front seat of the car too when Mum drives to training and does other things like the laundry or the hoovering in the house.

It's weird because none of Mum's other friends do that.

You stare at the food in front of you, poking at it with your fork.

Mum sits opposite you and Ona sits next to her, both of them digging into the meal that Ona made after practice was finished.

You sniff it.

It doesn't smell like food Mummy would normally cook and you look down at the floor, where Narla is waiting.

You dump your food onto the floor for her.

"Hey!" Mum catches you doing it and you wilt a little at her stern voice. "That's not very nice. Ona cooked for us."

You wrinkle your nose. "No."

"Yes, she did."

You shake your head.

"Sorry," She says to Ona," She's not usually like this." She turns back to you just as you dump another forkful of food onto the floor for Narla. "Hey! Stop it! Eat your food!"

"No." You stick your tongue out.

"It's not a question."

You dump more food on the floor. Narla's having a lot of fun eating it.

You're glad she's having fun because Mum very quickly puts you on the naughty step to 'think about your actions' before she returns to the table to eat.

"I swear she's not usually like this," Lucy says," I've no idea why she's acting like this."

"It's okay," Ona says, though the pit in her stomach at not getting you to like her is deep," She'll come around."

Ona's not quite sure what she's doing wrong. She's good with kids. She knows she's good with kids. Everyone's told her she's good with kids.

She just isn't sure why she isn't good with you.

She's tried everything. Toys. Food. Tv time.

But you just don't seem very happy with any of it.

You shuffle away when she sits next to you. You don't play with the toys she buys. You feed her food to Narla.

Ona's unsure how she's meant to win you over.

She stews on it on the sofa as Lucy gives you your bath. She forces herself to take her mind of it by scrolling through her phone, stopping on a picture of Coco she took just last night.

"Pup," Ona hears Lucy say," Say goodnight to Ona, please."

"No."

"Pup," Lucy's voice is firmer than before," Say goodnight to Ona or I'll call Mummy and tell her about how bad you're being."

That gets you moving and you shuffle over to the sofa.

"Goodnight, Ona," You say begrudgingly. You make a move to leave before you catch sight of the picture on her phone. "Is puppy."

"Er...yes," Ona says.

You shuffle closer, hands resting on Ona's leg as you lean to get a closer look.

"Is not my puppy. Is it yours?"

"This is Coco," Ona says," He's mine, yeah."

"Is he friendly?"

"Very."

"He likes dogs too?"

"Yeah."

You turn to Lucy with a disgruntled face. "Why you not say Ona has a puppy? I want to see her puppy!"

Your sudden turnaround shocks a laugh out of Lucy.

"Sorry, pup," She says," I didn't know you'd want to see Ona's dog."

You turn back to Ona. "I love puppies," You tell her," Why you not bring your puppy to see me and Narla?"

"I can bring him next time."

You nod. "Good." You grab Ona's hand. "Got a story about puppies. For my bedtime story. Read to me please?"

Ona grins, tightening her grip on your hand. "I'd love to."

[vivwritesfics]

Ducklings

Domestic Bradley spending time with his family before he's called back to Top Gun (or fluff, fluff, fluffy, fluff)

2K

Bradley Bradshaw told nobody he was stateside.

No, he headed straight home. It was the middle of the night when he pushed open the front door, and almost every member of his family was sleeping. Everybody, but the dog.

Goose was growling when he walked through the front door. But, the moment he realised who was walking into the house, he became excited. Running from the kitchen to Bradley, tail wagging from side to side as he barked.

"Goose, buddy, shut up," Bradley said as he pulled the door shut and dropped to his knees to greet his best friend. "You're gonna wake everybody up!" He insisted.

As Goose settled into his lap to lick his face, the light at the top of the stairs flickered to life. "Shit," he groaned and stood up.

He couldn't look away as his wife walked down the stairs, bat in front of her. Goose had alerted her to an intruder, and her first instinct was to protect their babies. His heart swelled as he met her eyes.

"Bradley?" She called, lowering the bat.

A grin split across his face. "Hey, pretty girl," he called (all the while Goose was trying to jump up at him, but he was being ignored).

Suddenly the bat was on the floor and she was running towards him as fast as she could. She held back from leaping into his arms, but she threw herself at him, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss her.

"I missed you," she mumbled against his lips. "I missed you so fucking much."

The way she was squeezing him, it was like she never wanted to let him go. But Bradley was squeezing her back just as hard. And he really didn't want to let her go.

But he pulled away from her lips. Her head was against his chest as he looked past her, at the little faces peaking around from the top of the stairs. "Ducklings ," he shouted, and those four little faces disappeared.

She turned in his arms, hands on her hips as she looked towards the stairs. But then a sigh left her lips. "Come on down," she said.

The four of them raced each other down the stairs. It was a miracle they made it down the stairs without one of them breaking their legs. But they all got to the bottom of the stairs and ran towards their father. They pretty much pushed their mother out of the way to get to their father.

"Daddy!" The youngest of the four, little June, was on his hip in the minute as Bradley called the rest of them closer. "We missed you."

Bradley's grin was fond beneath his moustache as he looked down at his children. His kids, the ones he and his wife had created together. His perfect little demons.

"You guys are supposed to be in bed," their mother chided. But they didn't much care now that their father had returned home.

"Moooooom," Nick Bradshaw, the oldest of the brood complained. "Dad's home."

She shook her head and looked at her husband. "Wanna help me put them back to bed?" She asked.

The kids clung to Bradley as the six of them tried to walk up the stairs. It wasn't easy. Well, it wouldn't have been easy for anyone but him. Bradley was used to it. It happened every time he was leaving and every time he came back.

They went into the boys bedroom first. "Bed now, boys," Bradley said. They groaned as they pulled away from their father, but they did as they were told. Every time he looked around the room, Bradley hated the way his heart clenched. If he could have given them a room each, he would have. But they were stuck sharing.

Bradley passed Junie to her mother. He left Ethel (Ethie, to her family), standing beside her mother and went to tuck the boys in.

"Can we do something fun tomorrow?" Asked Nick as his dad kissed his forehead.

Bradley brushed his hair back. "Anything you want kid," he said and gave the same treatment to Daniel. "Goodnight, my ducklings," he said as he backed out of the room with his girls.

June climbed back into her fathers arms and Ethel grabbed a hold of his hand. "Come on, my babies," he said to his two youngest and led them down the hall, all while his wife watched on.

God, there was nothing she liked more than watching her man be domestic. He let go of Ethel and she dove beneath the covers while he put June down and tucked her in. "Have you girls been good for your mommy?" He asked as he turned to tuck Ethel in and kiss her forehead.

"Course we have, papa," Ethel said as she reached for her teddy bear. "We always are."

A quiet laugh left his lips and he headed back towards the door. "I know you are, my girls," he said, catching his wife's eyes. "Goodnight, my ducklings."

And then it was just Bradley and his wife.

The moment the girls' bedroom door was closed, Bradley was on her. Couldn't wait until they were back in the bedroom, he was kissing her with everything he had as he pushed her back towards their bedroom.

Fuck, he'd missed their bedroom. He'd missed this entire house. The wonky mirror in the bathroom, the kitchen cupboard that never closed all the way. Goose sleeping downstairs (although there was every chance he was gonna be in their bed by morning), his ducklings in their beds, excited for the day ahead.

"Fuck, I missed you," he whispered as he walked her back into the bedroom. "I missed you so goddamn much."

Her legs hit the back of the bed and she fell on top of the comforter, pulling her husband down on top of her. Her legs immediately wrapped around him and she kissed him softly, sweetly. It was everything he had missed.

Bradley Bradshaw wasn't used to sleeping in. But he was so damn exhausted (Mr and Mrs Bradshaw hadn't gotten much sleep that night), that he slept right though until midday.

Or he would have. But the kids came running. All four of them, followed by Goose, jumped on the bed, waking up their parents. "Dad!" They all shouted again and again, shouting ever each other as they tried to get their fathers attention.

"Kids, give us a minute!" Their mother called, holding the blankets up to her chest.

"But Dad said we could do something fun today!" Nick protested.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, as soon as we're up. Now, go and get yourselves some breakfast, your father will be right down."

With that, the kids walked out of the room, Goose following them. Wherever the kids went, Goose was right there, ever their protector.

As soon as the kids were out of the room, Bradley pulled his wife closer. "Good morning, Mrs Bradshaw," he said and kissed her shoulder.

For all of two seconds she was on top of him, pressing her lips to his own. "Good morning, Mr Bradshaw." There was a shout from downstairs. "You should head down there," she said and released him.

Bradley got up and got dressed. He leaned down to kiss his wife and headed down to his ducklings. His brood.

The kids had been downstairs for maybe five minutes and the kitchen was already a mess. Spilled milk covering the table, a piece of toast on the floor (which Goose was devouring), orange juice covering Daniel's shirt.

Roos put a mug under the coffee machine and pressed the button. And then he got to work.

He let Goose finished the slice of toast. Grabbing a towel, he wiped up the spilt milk and put the bowl by the sink. And then the coffee machine stopped and Bradley was walking out of the room with the mug, Goose following his master.

Bradley walked up the stairs and into the bedroom he shared with his wife. He strode over to her and pressed the mug into her hands. "Take your time, pretty girl," he said and kissed her. "I've got the kids."

That was what Bradley missed most about being home. His kids. Being a dad. It was the most incredibly feeling, getting to make his kids breakfast and lunch. Taking them to the beach, taking them camping with Goose.

Morning runs with Goose became a routine, one that Goose grew to love.

Bradley's life was bliss. He loved every moment with his kids, even when they were climbing on him and waking him up at the most ridiculous time in the morning and accidentally smashing their drinks glasses.

Even when he was breaking up a fight between the twins (Ethel and Daniel), he loved his kids. He loved sitting in the kitchen with his wife, back doors open as they watched the four of them play in the garden.

June fell off of the swing set that Bradley had set up the year before. But Nick was right there before Bradley and his wife could rush to her aid, shushing her cries and checking the graze on her knee.

But this bliss wouldn't last forever.

It could only have been home a number of months when he was called back to Top Gun. There was a good week where his wife was the only one that knew.

His head was against her chest, her hands moving through his hair. "It's okay," she whispered, but Bradley didn't know whether he was talking to him or herself.

The night before he left, he told the kids. June cried, the twins were visibly upset, and Nick was still. None of them wanted their dad to go, and part of Nick hated him for leaving it until the last minute.

They watched a movie that night, a princess movie. The six of them on one sofa, June in her fathers lap, Nick cuddled up to his mother and the twins between them. It was only when all of the kids were sleeping that they put them to bed.

"I don't wanna leave them again," said Bradley as he and his wife laid in bed. "I should have told them before this."

"Yeah," she said as she sat on his lap and pulled off his shirt. "But it's done now, Bradley. You can't change it."

She leaned forward and kissed him. "They love you," she said. "I love you. And I want you to say a proper goodbye."

His grin was almost sad as he looked at her. Eyes mapping out her face (like he never wanted to forget). "Tell me what you want, baby," he said, squeezing her hips.

She pulled off her own shirt. "Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw, I want you to make love to me."

Bradley Bradshaw lived to make his wife happy, after all.

She would have driven with him to California. They all would have, if they could have fit four kids and a dog into the Bronco. Instead they all stood in the drive, watching as Bradley threw his bags into his fifth child, his beloved car.

And then he turned towards them. As soon as he did, Ethel was running at him. She threw her arms around her father and cried. No matter how many times he'd been deployed since they'd been born, they'd never get used it it, he knew.

He gave each of his babies a goodbye. Each one got a kiss on the head. He said goodbye to Goose, and then he turned to his wife.

"I love you," he whispered and pulled her in. Tears were there, ready to fall, but she held them back. "Look after our ducklings."

"I will, Bradley," she whispered back, cupping his face. "I will."

Bradley Bradshaw hated leaving his family. But the sight of them in the rear view mirror, his babies waving so enthusiastically, was a sight he'd hold close to his heart.

[504py]

Scalding-Hot Steel - Knight!Leon Kennedy/Reader

He finally lets you try on his armor.

I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET OUT!!! 😭😭😭😭🙏🙏 i got caught in a bit of a slump, but i hope this can make up for it, and that this was worth the wait!! the chapter after this might be the finale, so i may take even longer to get to it. nonetheless, thank you to everyone who's been reading till now, and thank you all for 600 followers!!!

Historical inaccuracies, I suck at old-timey speak, reader referred to as "my lady" but no other gendered terms or descriptors besides that, no use of Y/N, Leon is a total puppy, mutual pining.

1, 2, 3

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You're unsure what it was, but following that interaction at the library, you and Leon have grown closer.

This upgrade in your relationship has made you be able to relax more in his presence, now that you see him as more friend than foe. Well, to call him a foe was a gargantuan exaggeration, but you did find him intimidating. You still do sometimes.

Even if you've backed off and retired your old obsessive habit of being way too observant about every single little detail about Leon, you can't help but still notice how it seems like your roles have been swapped.

Leon has begun to follow you around like a dog, to put it simply.

You swear it's not just you fixating on him, you really have started seeing him around much more often. He's started waiting by your door to greet you a good morning with a small smile, before heading to the courtyard. During lunchtime, he's begun to engage in smalltalk with you, talking about mundane things like the weather, or your schedule for the day. He's especially chatty if he learns he's going to be part of it. At night, when his usual routine would be to simply see you off at your bedroom door and say goodnight, now he sits by your bedside and talks about anything 'till it lulls you to sleep. He'd be mortified if you knew how long he stayed after you've dozed off.

Leon has begun studying you, in return. He likes to think that he's observant, but that usually only applies to combat, or if he's been trained beforehand on the matter. With people, he's never really had much luck reading them, unless it's too obvious for it to even be called "observing."

Leon admires that about you, how keen your eyes always are. He wonders if you're as drawn into his quirks as he is with yours. If you were, he envies your ability to drink in information so tactfully. If the devil were in the details– in your details, Leon would love to become a sinner.

His attempts in learning more about you were painfully amateurish. Even if Leon were a great tutor, a great protector, a great fighter, he tends to be terrible at holding conversation.

"My lady–"

"I told you to stop calling me that." You sigh and roll your eyes playfully.

"Sorry." He huffs your name bashfully, drawing closer towards you. You look up at him, and he drinks in the sight before you're squinting slightly at the rays of sun attacking you from behind his head.

"Please step into the shade, milady." He insists, holding his hand out for you to place yours on, before leading you underneath a large tree.

"There you are again, Sir Leon." You laugh, resting your back against the smooth bark of the tree.

"Hey, I asked you to forgo the titles as well." He muses, noticing you were still straining your eyes slightly, so he steps in front of the sun. It makes your face relax, and once again, he realizes keeping you happy and protecting you brings him fulfillment like no other.

"Just doing the same as you are, Sir Leon, since you won't drop mine." Chuckling, you sit down on the plush grass and wait for him to follow.

He smiles and breathes out a laugh, setting down the picnic basket in front of you. Leon wants to sit beside you, but then his back wouldn't be there to shield you from the sun. He sits where he is.

"Alright, I'm sorry." He says, almost jokingly. Saying your name out loud makes him feel shy, like saying the name of a god. It feels almost forbidden to be molded by his tongue, but you always invite him to say it, and the intimacy makes his heart race every single time he dares to. He mumbles it quietly again, getting a high from it.

You look beautiful. He thought that from the day he first met you, but the closer you two have gotten, the more and more he finds himself thinking that, and even more does it make his heart ache in his chest. In the shade under this tree, windy summer day illuminating the soft curves of your face so enchantingly, Leon can't help but look like a bit of an idiot drinking the sight in.

"Are you feeling hot?"

His eyes look at your lips first, ears registering your voice second. He closes his mouth, realizing it's been hanging slightly agape.

"I, uh, no– no, I'm feeling alright, my–"

You tilt your head down, and send him a playful warning glare. He stops in his tracks and looks down for a second, smiling breathily.

"I'm alright."

"Really? Your head tilts to the right this time, and Leon's heart skips a beat at how adorable he finds the gesture. "That armor you're wearing looks pretty hot. Can't you take it off?"

"It's only chainmail." He reassures, taking off his helmet and combing a hand through his flattened hair, "The helmet is a little troublesome, though."

You chirp, "I can imagine." before you open up the picnic basket in front of you and start rummaging through it.

Leon watches you munch on some biscuits for a bit, before his eyes flit back to the helmet by his side. "...Some time ago, you said you had wanted to try on my armor."

He says this mid-chew, so you hurry to get your food down so you can respond, "Oh, you remembered?" You wipe away a few crumbs from your lip, Leon finds the act charming, and it makes him smile softly. You continue, "Mm, yes, I did. Why bring it up?"

"Well," Leon holds up his helmet, "Would you like to try it on now?"

The way your eyes light up can't help but force a boyish, giddy grin on Leon's face. It feels strange and his cheeks feel weird, he can't really remember the last time he's smiled this hard. It does scare him a little, how foreign it is, but the feeling is so, so welcomed.

"Of course! Are you joking?" You put the snacks in your hands away, and move the basket to the side so you can inch closer to Leon. The feeling of your legs touching make butterflies take flight in his stomach.

"I-I'm not– I–" He's sputtering and he finds his brain struggling to function at being so flustered.

"Calm down, Leon." You laugh heartily. He wonders if you know the effect you have on him, but with how darn observant you are, he's sure that you're well aware what you do to him. It makes his cheeks burn red and glare at you with a kittenish frown. He wishes he could be more suave about his feelings towards you.

"I will once you stop making me so flustered." Leon huffs, hoping that wasn't too bold of a thing to say. His cheeks burn deeper. His eyebrows lower at your surprised look.

"Do I now?"

"W-Well– See, you're doing it again!" Leon groans, letting go of his helmet to hide his flushed face in his broad hands and whine. His ears turn red at the sound of your hearty laugh.

"Well, it's only fair that I do it to you too."

"Too?"

Your face warms, realizing what you've revealed. Leon grins, elated at the mere implication that he makes you feel the same way.

"Y-You've noticed, haven't you? In the library, you asked why I felt so uncomfortable around you."

"You didn't exactly answer... I thought it was because you disliked me."

"...Now you know that I clearly don't. We get along rather well, don't we?"

He's beaming at you, and it's not just the sun shining on him, it looks like he's literally glowing with serenity and love.

"We do, my lady."

"Leon!" You interject him calling you by your formal title.

He can't seem to let the title go, because in his mind, it's more of a pet name than a title. A term of endearment. Leon clings to the "my" part of the title, he liked the tiniest hint that you could be his. My lady, my lover, my sweetheart, mine.

Leon giggles, and he pauses for a moment after, realizing he can't remember the last time he's let out such a noise. He gazes upon you in awe, amazed at how you were able to bring out this side of him.

"What is it?"

Leon blinks, getting drawn out of his haze and shaking his head dismissively. He keeps his soft gaze on you, though.

The pads of his fingers rest on his helmet, feeling the ridges of it. Maybe it was too rough for someone he deemed as delicate as you. His eyes lower and rest on the piece of armor, noting how it's covered in scratches and dents, how it isn't so shiny as he'd like for it to be. It washed over him like a small wave of shame, thinking it not worthy for someone of your standing to don. Not even socially, but the standing that you held within his mind and his heart. Leon never thought he'd be insecure over such a trivial thing.

"So... Can I try it on, my good Sir?"

Leon lets out a little snort at what you call him, freezing and making an embarrassed face at the undignified noise, but then he he sees how happy it makes you– perhaps how happy he himself makes you, and he feels at ease.

"Yes, of course, Your Royal Highness."

You playfully slap his bicep at the absurd title. "I am not royalty!"

"You are to me." He mutters as he adjusts his sitting position, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

He's kneeling in front of you, being mindful of your hair or anything on your clothing the helmet could snag on, gently lowering it before the hard metal rests on the top of your skull.

Leon sits back down, and can't help a cheesy, tight-lipped smile when he sees how awkwardly it fits you. It's crooked, and it simply is too rugged in contrast to your usual attire and demeanor.

"...How is it?"

"Wow, I can barely see. This is amazing!" Your hands rest on the sides of the helmet to try and stabilize it, yet it still tips over off balance after adjusting. Leon lets out a snort, and this time, he's only half-embarrassed.

"How do you fight in this? I can't see anything."

Leon wordlessly pulls the visor up. His heart pounds at the sight of your flushed face and messy hair.

"Ohh. What if an arrow lands in my face, though?"

"I can assure you, you won't be getting into that sort of situation anytime soon."

"You seem very sure of yourself, Leon."

"Of course, it's my duty to protect you."

"...Do you enjoy it?"

"What? Protecting you?"

You nod, "Yes."

"I look forward to it every day."

The two of you share a wide smile, beaming at the intimacy of this interaction, and you two have never felt closer. I want to kiss you, is all Leon can think about.

Right as he was mindlessly leaning in, you let out a small laugh for whatever reason, and Leon is forever grateful that you do, because it snaps him out of his trance, and he feels so stupid for trying to make a move on you.

"That's good. I don't think armor suits me very much anyways." You clumsily take his helmet off of your head, and rest it by your hip.

"I'm glad to have you protecting me, Leon. I'm so happy to have you by my side every day, not even as a knight, but as a companion." You say this so demurely, looking down at your lap with a cherubic expression on your face that has his heart pounding in his strong chest.

Then, you just had to look up at him, and meet his lovestruck stare, and maybe he's gone crazy from how flustered he's been all day, but he swears he can see the same look in your eyes.

Leon throws out whatever he was last thinking straight out the window, encases your wrists in his hands, and kisses you.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

[yourgothiccqueen]

LN4 - “Formula One Sucks” Part 2

Summary: Y/N and Lando go on their first date.

Pairings: Lando Norris x Female Reader

Warnings: Swearing, hints of sexual tension etc

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

Masterlist

*Ping*

Y/N glanced down at her phone, a small smile forming at her lips. There would only be one person messaging her so late at night.

lightning mcqueen: Soooo, what did you think of the race today? :)

The last thing she expected to happen after her begrudging trip to Silverstone was to end up texting a certain McLaren driver.

Well, it was more than texting really. There were calls too, every other day. Lando was a busy (understatement of the year) guy, but they’d found themselves falling into a comfortable routine of late night conversations.

y/n: didn’t watch it, was too busy washing my dog :,)

A lie, of course. Y/N had recently found herself infatuated with F1. She hadn’t missed a race. But she wasn’t going to let Lando feel smug about that.

lightning mcqueen: u little shit, you don’t have a dog!

y/n: says who?!

lightning mcqueen: you, on the phone last week!

y/n: 🤷‍♀️ maybe I was washing my friends dog?

lightning mcqueen: its okay, no need for lies - i know ur an f1 super fan now thanks to yours truly :D

Y/N felt a smile tug at her lips. Okay, he was smug. But it was kinda cute.

y/n: okayyyy, perhaps I did watch. And perhaps I thought you were rather impressive. happy now?

lightning mcqueen: very :) goodnight grumpy girl x

y/n: goodnight u smug bastard x

————————————————————-

It didn’t take long for him to ask her on a date. It caught her by surprise, despite the ease at which they’d been chatting over the past month.

“What do you even wear on a date with an F1 driver?” Y/N groaned, flopping back on to her bed.

Piles of clothes were scattered around the room, deemed totally unacceptable for a date with Lando Norris.

“Not this.” Her friend Annie, grimaced, picking up a bright pink Oodie off of the floor.

“Yeah no shit!”

“Look, you must have something in here.” Annie rummaged through the wardrobe. “Where’s he taking you anyway?”

“Someplace in central. It’s not too fancy, but it’s definitely fancier than the pink Oodie.” Y/N pointed.

“Oooo. This could work!” Annie pulled out a relatively new, seemingly unworn black dress. “Can’t go wrong with a little black dress.”

Y/N’s eyes widen - “I can’t wear that!”

“Why the hell not?”

“It’s too…showy. I bought it on a whim. For a nice occasion.”

Annie rolled her eyes “if you’re not going to wear it on a date with a super hot formula one driver, then when the hell are you gonna wear it?!”

Fair point.

———————————————————

Stood outside the restaurant, Y/N felt her nerves begin to grow. What the hell was she doing? She didn’t do this sort of thing! If she’d had told herself a month ago that she’d be going on a date with Lando, she’d have laughed in her own face. This was wild. This was ridiculous. This was positively insane in fact!

“Y/N?”

Suddenly whipped out of her own thoughts, Y/N turned around.

Oh god, he looked bloody gorgeous.

He smiled at her, his eyes twinkling as he did. His white shirt was a stark contrast against his tan skin. His curly hair was slightly more tamed than usual - he’d clearly made an effort, which made Y/N’s heart race even faster.

“Hey!” She managed to stutter out, sounding far more confident than she felt inside.

“Hi! God I’m so sorry I’m late, were you waiting long?” Lando queried.

Y/N had failed to notice that he was late in the first place, having been so in her own head.

“No just got here.” She smiled. “You look really nice.” She paused, a fleeting moment of confidence. “For a smug bastard, of course.”

A quick laugh left Lando’s mouth.

“Ha! You look lovely too, despite being the world's grumpiest woman, of course.”

“Oh of course.” Y/N giggled, as they made their way inside.

He’d chosen well - it was beautiful inside the restaurant, but not fancy enough to make Y/N feel uncomfortable.

Y/N placed her phone down on the table as she sat, and Lando couldn’t help but catch a glimpse.

“Wait, why am I called Lightning McQueen in your phone?” He laughed.

“Because you’re fast - duh!”

“Lightning McQueen is red.” Lando retorted, a look of exasperation written across his face, as he made himself comfortable in his chair.

“So?”

Lando rolled his eyes, jokingly.

"There's nothing wrong with red cars!" Y/N exclaimed.

“Well, I prefer orange myself. Gimme your phone, I’ve got a better name.”

“If I must”

Y/N passed her phone across the table and into Lando's hand. His fingers brushed hers as she did so. Despite their playful bickering, she couldn't help but wish she could leave her hand on his a moment longer.

God, she was fully gone and she'd only been sat in his presence for less than five minutes. He was going to be the death of her.

Lando typed into Y/N’s phone momentarily, before passing it back, a small smirk on his face.

“Lando ‘The Hunk’ Norris?” She laughed, eyebrows raising. “Really?”

“Well, it’s much more accurate, don’t you think?”

He folded his arms across his chest. Y/N felt herself begin to blush, so decided the sane response was to hide herself behind the menu.

"Well?" Lando quipped.

"Well what, Lando 'The Hunk' Norris?" Y/N spoke, glancing up at the curly haired man. His eyes bore into hers, a slight mischievous glint to them.

"Aren't you going to agree?"

"You want me to tell you that you are in fact, a 'hunk'?" She retorted.

Lando leaned back in his chair. "I suppose I don't need you to. The fact that you've gone bright red says it all."

Y/N felt her blush deepen.

"You're a cocky bastard. you know that?"

"I haven't had any complaints yet."

---------------------------------------------------

The rest of the date passed in a blur of midly flirtatious comments and an abundance of sexual innuendos. Y/N wasn't sure what she had been expecting when she'd agreed to a date with Lando. She'd presumed he'd be polite, and sincere and kind - which he was. But what she hadn't anticipated was his quick wit and his ability to call her out. She liked it. She liked it very much indeed.

Perhaps she'd finally met her match.

By the time they left the restaurant the sun had long set, and a light drizzle had set in.

Y/N felt the breath leave her lungs as Lando took his hand in hers.

"Thank you." He smiled, softly.

"What for, exactly?" She questioned, half unable to focus on anything except the feeling of his warm hand in hers.

"For...this. It's not often I get to meet someone who... makes me feel so normal. Someone who isn't afraid to say what's on their mind. It's nice."

Once again, a blush crept up Y/N's neck and towards her cheeks.

"Well, I am pretty incredible." She winked.

"Oh, shut up!"

"Make me."

Lando stepped forward, and in one breathe his lips crashed into her own. It was messy at first, filled with passion and unresolved sexual tension, before they found their rhythm. She closed her eyes, feeling his strong hands wrapped around her waist. His mouth molded against hers, warmth spilling throughout her body. He was perfect. His mouth moved in perfect timing against hers, as she entwined her hands at the base of his hair, letting her fingers run through his curls. She could stand her forever, she thought, with her body pressed against his, his mouth against hers.

Eventually, Y/N pulled away first, gazing up into Lando's darkened eyes. His lips were swollen and wet - she already wanted to kiss him again.

"Want to continue this date at mine?" She whispered, unable to leave his gaze.

"Say no more."

[i-am-baechu]

✎ᝰ. Suchwita ⁞ J. Jungkook

Summary: Just Jungkook getting bullied by his members about Y/N, nothing new

Part of ‘ His Fan Girl universe

"After my first show that day, you went on Weverse Live and talked for nearly two hours." Jungkook nodded his head and put a piece of beef in his mouth. As Yoongi put another piece of meat on the grill with a smile, "I bet Y/N was annoyed with you."

Jungkook rolled his eyes and pointed his chopsticks at Yoongi, "She can never be annoyed with me."

Taehyung took a sip of his beer and shrugged his shoulders, "I don't understand how she can put up with you."

"Yah!"

Yoongi leaned back into his chair and smiled at him, "She came to the concert with you and I saw how excited she was. "

Jungkook nodded his head at this, "She was excited to see you because she missed us performing together."

Yoongi crossed his arms over his chest and looked up at the ceiling, "I felt really grateful but also a little sad at the same time."

"It kind of ached a little. I loved performing that song with you, Y/N said it was fun to watch us. She said she can't wait to see us all together again."

Yoongi nodded his head and gave Jungkook a proud smile, "No more sad things. Your album is out, finally."

Jungkook smiled widely at this and nodded his head, "You guys made fun of my concept pictures."

Taehyung nodded his head, "You only did because you knew Y/N would love it."

Yoongi shook his head and pointed his finger at Taehyung, "Don't say that."

"Hyung, Y/N isn't all that innocent."

"To me she is."

Jungkook rolled his eyes at the two, "You guys are talking more about Y/N than me."

"I wish she could come and drink with me. Your title track is "Standing Next To You", was that inspired by Y/N."

"Somewhat, I recorded it with Andrew. Y/N helped me with my english and she was always there when I needed her. It was just a song on the list but I felt like it made the most sense."

Yoongi nodded his head and took a sip of his beer, "When you recorded "Seven", I heard Y/N wasn't happy that you had a explicit version."

"You need to stop talking to her."

Taehyung let out a laugh and smacked jungkook's shoulder, "She was not happy about that."

"I told her I wanted to do something different. She loves the song though."

Yoongi glanced at the camera and then back at Jungkook, "Was it number one in her spofity wrapped?"

Jungkook clapped his hands and waved at the cameras with a smile, "Bye Army, have a goodnight." He stood up and bowed at the camera as Yoongi let out a laugh, "Jungkook sit down."

Yoongi turned his head at the voice and looked back at Jungkook, "You better listen to your fiancée."

Jungkook pouted and sat back in his chair with his arms crossed, "I don't need this bullying."

Y/N shook her head and headed towards Yoongi with her back to the camera, "Can I have a piece?"

Yoongi grabbed a new pair of chopsticks and happily gave a piece of meat to Y/N. Jungkook glared at the scene and pointed his finger at him, "Yah! Hyung! You can't do that with her."

Y/N rolled her eyes and pulled her mask up, "It's Yoongi. He has permission."

"Yeah, down boy."

Jungkook turned towards Taehyung and glared at him. Taehyung looked at Y/N and pouted with his puppy dog eyes, "Y/N, he's being mean to me."

"Jungkook."

"This isn't fair!"

[andillneverbethesame]

hey! Could you write anything with James Potter based off the black dog by Taylor? This song has been killing me for the last weeks and I love your writing!! If not that’s okay! Have a nice day 🤗🤗

THE BLACK DOG

❥ james potter x reader

❥ warnings: cheating, smut...

❥word count: 2k

❥ a/n: i love this song sm

my ts masterlists pt 1 pt 2

"where were you?" you asked him as soon as he got home. it was two in the morning, three hours past the time he promised to come back.

he doesn't evn bother to give you a "hello" kiss on the top of your head like he used to. he doesn't even look at you. it's been like this for a while now.

"at the black dog. with the boys," he said. short answer. like always.

you knew he was at the black dog. he always forgot to turn his location off. but you also share yours with all of 'the boys': sirius black, remus lupin and peter pettigrew and you knew very well they weren't at the black dog.

so if he wasn't with them, who was he with?

the answer is a pretty ginger girl with green eyes who used to go to the same school with you and james.

lily evans.

she was someone you've always felt insecure of because of her past with james. the two of them dated for about a year and broke up just about half a year before you and james started going out.

he always reassured you and even lily told you there's nothing but friendship between them and you believed them.

you wouldn't believe them now.

"interesting," you mumbled, trying your best not to start shouting at him.

"what?" he stopped on his way to the bathroom and turned around to face you.

you shook your head and laid your head on the pillow.

james got into your shared bed about half an hour later. you could hear him sigh a couple of times and also pace around your bathroom before he decided to go and lie down with his back facing you.

"goodnight, i love you," you whispered loud enough for him to hear but. . .

he said nothing back.

--------------------------------------------------

when you and james broke up, a few weeks later, it felt like the end of the world.

this break up wasn't as dramatic as in all the movies and books. james came home from merlin knows where and said, "i can't do this anymore."

you knew what he meant. he couldn't continue pretending you two were going to be fine, he even stopped calling a lunatic whenever you brought lily up. he couldn't continue coming back home, wishing someone else was waiting for him and then pretending it's her lying next to him in bed. he couldn't continue pretending that you're both not dying inside.

when james told you that, you only nodded, whispering, "okay". there was nothing left to say and nothing left to do. all was already said and done. you were exhausted fighting for the both of you. the ship was sinking and you were going down with it.

james seemed to be surprised when you didn't start yelling at him or crying and begging him to stay. you watched his confusion. he looked as if he wanted to say something but he decided not to.

"alright, then." he went upstairs and packed his things. well, not really, he was already packed. you saw his black bag stuffed with his clothes under your bed about a week ago and decided not to wonder how long it was there.

when he came back down, he saw you had not moved from the spot on your sofa.

"okay, um, well. . ." he paused. "i'm going."

you nodded, your face emotionless as you stared at the wall, not sparing him a glance.

you heard him place something on the kitchen table and judging by the sound, you figured out it was his keys to this flat.

"i'm sorry, it ended like this. i wish i could change things, but i can't. i'm really sorry." he waited for your reply, but you couldn't bring yourself to, scared you'll break down. he didn't deserve to see you cry, not anymore. it surprised you that for the first time, he apologized and sounded genuine, making the situation a thousand times harder for you.

his steps faded into the hallway. the door opened, and then closed. and after that, you finally allowed yourself to let it out.

--------------------------------------------------

despite the fact this heartbreak and the break up in general wasn't unexpected and your heart has been shattered for the past few months, you couldn't bring yourself to move on, or at least try to, and the only thing you did was grieving.

you didn't think it was fair. you tried your best to save the relationship, killing yourself in the process and yet, james was the only one leaving unscathed, his heart untouched as if the love you two once shared meant nothing to him.

you could imagine him and lily doing the thing you two used to do, too. you'd bet all your money they went out to dinner every other night, probably to black dog, or they'd have a night in with all their friends.

speaking of friends, remus was the one who checked up on you the most. he showed up at your flat at least three times a week with a different big chocolate bar every time and you two would spend time talking. you opened to remus about a lot of things, but you doubted you would ever open up up the way you did to james.

"he accidentally called lily by your name, the other day." he told you one thursday evening.

"´huh? did he. . ."

"yeah. . . me, james and sirius were out and passed a floral shop. james stopped and said, "would you wait for me, lads? i gotta buy some flowers for y/n." he didn't even realise he misspoke. and then, he came out with a bouquet of peonies even though lily told him she likes daffodils."

you almost choke on your chocolate when you heard he bought peonies. they were yours favourite.

"yeah. i told him and he just nervously laughed and went back for daffodils. . . by the way he still didn't tell his parents you two aren't together anymore so whenever mia calls and asks about you, james straight up lies to her."

you frowned at the memories of his parents. you loved them and you were going to miss them so much.

"does lily know?" you asked. not that it was any of your business. you were just curious.

"yeah. it upsets her, but she doesn't really say anything about it." he paused and sadly smiled at you. "we really miss you around, y/n. even though we all like lily, everyone is pissed at james for hurting you. even sirius. he'd come to visit too, but he's afraid james could find out."

"i get he's afraid, but james hasn't got a saying in who sirius hangs out with. just as i hadn't got a saying in who james shags," you joked. but remus didn't find that funny. "tell sirius and peter i miss them too. and that they can come around anytime they want."

"will do."

silence prevailed between you two. but it wasn't awkward. it was actually pretty comfortable.

"y/n?" remus broke it.

"yeah?"

"you'll be okay, right?"

you nodded, although if you were honest, you weren't really sure.

"i will be. i have to be."

--------------------------------------------------

in that same very moment, about five miles south, in lily evans's flat, was a couple in a heated moment.

the girl's bright red lipstick was all over his face and neck, all their clothes were already long forgotten on the cold bathroom floor as lily turned on the shower, the hot drops soaking up their bodies immediately.

james's hands traveled from lily's face to her chest, then waist, and then her ass and thighs. she whimpered into his mouth and he swallowed it like a starved man.

and just then, a memory hit him hard. this has happened before. not with lily, but with you.

as james pretended not to be lost in his head while pleasuring lily with his fingers and lips, he could not stop thinking about you.

what the fuck is wrong with you? he asked himself. lily moaned his name out loud and dugged her nails into his skin. you barely think of her for whole two weeks and now you can't get her out of your mind? why now?

lily's body was shaking in the same way yours was, her head was thrown back and her mouth was wide opened with her eyes closed shut. james's mind betrayed him. he couldn't stop wishing this was you.

did you hate him? he wondered. you had to. he hated himself in that moment for what he did to you.

he wondered how you were doing. he knew remus came to visit you quite often but he never felt brave enough to ask him about you.

"james!" lily screamed as her eyes rolled back to the back of her head, snapping the boy out of his thoughts as she let her body fall into his arms.

"wow," she breathed out after a moment of silence. she glanced at james and asked, poiting at his cock, "do you want me to—"

"no," he cut her off, smiling nervously. "that's okay."

he got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist before leaving the bathroom completely, leaving lily standing there utterly confused.

--------------------------------------------------

six weeks since james walked out of that door and it felt like yesterday. you still missed him the same. you still hoped that he would realize his mistake and come back crawling to you, begging for your forgivness. you still missed him even though him being around was mentally draining.

you felt him everywhere in this flat. after all, you chose it together. he was everywhere. when you came home, even when you left it. you felt him in your bed and behind you in the bathroom. you felt him in your heart, soul and bones and you couldn't get him out.

"i wanna sell this flat," you told remus. "everything reminds me of james way too much. i can't do this."

"i understand. i hard alice and frank longbottom are looking for a flat. maybe you could buy alice's. do you want her number?"

"yeah, sure."

just as you were about to call alice, your phone started ringing and his picture appeared on the screen with the name "jamie ♡". you realized you still didn't change his name.

remus saw the shocked expression on your face. "what's wrong?"

ignoring him. you took a deep breath and tapped the light green button.

"hi." you heard him say, sounding almost relieved that you didn't hang up.

"hi."

"i'm sorry," he blurted out.

you sighed. "you already said that."

"i know but i really mean it. i'm sorry for how i treated you. i'm sorry that i was unfaithful, i'm sorry i called you a lunatic when you brought lily up, even though you were completely right about everything. i'm sorry for how cold, distant and rude i was for the last months of our relationship. you didn't deserve any of it. and i'm sorry."

wow. you waited for him to say that for so long.

"i-" you were speechless. "thank you, james, for your apology, i appreciate it. you are right, i didn't deserve any of it. not when i left no stone unturned while you didn't even lift a finger." he stayed quiet, knowing well you were right. "look, james, i'll forget you one day. i'll forget all of it, all of the lies and the pain. but i could never forgive you. what you did was humiliating and cruel. i never felt more unloved and worthless. i'll never forgive you for making me feel like that about myself."

"i'm really sorry," you heard him whisper.

"right now, i could say that i wish you all the best and that i hope you and lily will live happily ever after. but i'm not a liar, not like you. i really hope it's shitty wherever you are. i really hope it's shitty in the black dog.

[ackermai07]

hi there !! i hope you're having a great day so far ^^

i wanted to request the three musketeers (katsuki, izuku, shoto) that give prince/ss treatment to reader ! like the reader is just so tooth-rotting sweet that the boys can't help but treat reader that way ฅʕ◍·̀·́◍ʔฅ

you are so free to ignore this if its not up to your taste ^^ thank you in advance !! 💌🍰

girl you're crazy if you think this isn't up to my taste, you literally blessed me with this! Anyways I hope you have fun reading, enjoy!

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: Todoroki, Bakugou, Midoriya, fem!reader

𝗪𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: headcanon, fluff!

Don't repost!

The one thing we all agree on.

He'll cook for you.

No one argues with this; he's literally your personal chef.

He'll always make sure you eat well, whether you're a big eater or not.

This damn guy will literally stuff your stomach and cook for you anytime.

You can wake him up even at 2 a.m., and he won't mind, like:

"Hey, Katsu... I'm feeling kinda hungry... so-"

"Shut up, I already know."

And boom, he'll get up to cook a delicious meal for you and make sure you go to sleep feeling full.

He also loves styling your hair, no matter the type.

Straight, wavy, curly, it doesn't matter.

Just tell him how you want your hair, and he'll do it professionally.

He does most of the chores for you, like cooking, washing dishes, doing laundry, etc.

He absolutely hates seeing you tired or exhausted; he sees himself strong enough to do everything.

"You weren't created for exhaustion, not even your beautiful ass deserves to be tired from sitting."

Another reason he always holds you in his arms when you're alone together.

He always brings snacks for you at school.

At the end of each class, he turns around to give you candy or chocolate to keep you energized.

(He completely refuses to admit he brought them for you, always saying he got them by chance.)

When you're sitting in the dorm with others, he lets you rest your head on his shoulder if you're tired.

He absolutely doesn't let you go downstairs; he always carries you bridal style while going down while you're in his arms.

His excuse is that you're too foolish and will definitely trip and fall and hurt yourself.

(He loves you dearly and worries about you like crazy.)

Did I mention he's your guard dog?

Wherever you are, he walks behind you and gives death glares to anyone who dares to stare at you.

He also makes sure every day that he's the first person to say good morning or goodnight to you, whether in person or through messages.

He's not a big person with words, but he makes sure to say "I love you" enough times because he knows it makes you happy.

Believe me, he's just there for your happiness (I would die for this man).

This boy is the epitome of sweetness.

He's not just a green flag, he's the whole forest.

One thing I'm sure of is that he'll take notes for you during classes.

Even if you've already taken your own notes, he doesn't mind.

He still brings your notebooks and edits your notes to make them look like his own.

If you ask him why he does this, he simply replies:

"Just to ensure our information is the same so we don't have any problems when we study together."

He just loves being the reason behind your intellectual growth and knowing that he's helping you.

Every night, literally every night, he braids your hair.

Because he simply read that braiding hair before bed helps keep it healthy.

(He loves touching your hair and smelling its scent.)

Speaking of nighttime, he takes you for walks at night when everyone else is asleep and lies on the grass to watch the sky just because you told him you love seeing the stars.

He's literally the kind of gentleman who lays his jacket over a puddle of water for you to walk on so you don't get wet.

He has a sixth sense about you, so for example, whenever something bad happens to you, he's already there to fix it.

He's 100% ready to defend you against anyone and doesn't feel embarrassed to stand up to them either.

He carries your bag for you on the way to school and back to the dorm, insisting on it even when you say it's okay.

He loves sharing his food with you; he always does.

No matter what it is, he always makes sure you take at least a bite of it.

"I don't taste the food's flavor until I share it with you."

He always keeps your hands intertwined and makes sure you're close to him, especially in crowds.

Every day, he makes sure to kiss you on the cheek and tell you how perfect you are, how lucky he is to have you, and how much he loves you.

This guy is literally like a character from books.

He has a top-notch degree in princess treatment.

He buys you anything you want, no matter what.

Even if it's a car plated with gold, he'll always fulfill your desires.

He flirts with you, but in poetic ways.

For example, he reads a love quote or a poem and makes sure to dedicate it to you.

Either he writes it for you on a paper and places it on your desk in your room before you wake up, or he whispers it in your ear just to drive you crazy.

He loves seeing you shy and flustered.

He also buys you books, a lot of them.

The reason for that is your talk about a story or a novel.

Be sure that by tomorrow he'll present you with the entire book series along with a red rose.

"Shoto! You didn't have to do that!"

"If my girl desires something, she gets it."

(Help me... I'm melting while writing this)

He lets you do anything to him literally.

Braiding his hair, putting makeup on him, dressing him up as you wish... etc.

Just say the word, and he's like, "Yes, ma'am"

(Once you put your daily makeup on him, and literally you cried because he looked more beautiful than you by miles.)

This man is literally carrying your bags when he takes you shopping.

And he doesn't complain; it gives him a sense that he's your strong man.

He also allows you to try makeup on the back of his hand.

(He's as pale as hell.)

He carries you on his back if you feel tired from walking.

Or in other words, if he feels it, which means he always carries you on his back.

So you won't tire from something as silly as walking.

He knows that everyone is looking at both of you, but does he care? Of course not.

(I feel like he's read "The Art of Indifference" at least 100 times.)

He's the kind of guy who allows you to wear anything you want.

You might come to him not sure about your clothes, and he simply shrugs in indifference.

"Wear whatever you want; I can fight."

(But not too revealing because you won't get away with it.)

One of his greatest features is that he uses his quirk to either warm you up or cool you down according to the weather.

He always gives you his jacket even without you asking because he knows that his scent calms you down and also ensures that you're warm.

Like the others, he makes sure you eat well and goes crazy if he knows you haven't.

(I think this is an Asian thing...)

This might seem gross, but on the contrary, it's not the case for him, but he allows you to spit out the food you didn't like on his hand.

He tells you to do it in the most poetic expression ever.

He hugs you a lot, first because he loves being close to you and secondly to stick his scent to you, so people can smell you and know that you're his

(he has a special scent so..)

(I've written a lot for him, I know, and I'm sorry, but I love him so much that I couldn't stop!!)

I hope you had fun reading! Please feel free to request more whenever you like!

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝.

[hindahoney]

If you want to code-switch so often that you are nearly incomprehensible to goyim, here is a list of my favorite and most-used Jewish terms:

Schvitzing - Sweating. (Ex: "I'm schvitzing so much it's showing through my clothes.")

Schlep - A tedious and long journey, depending on usage it can mean that you were carrying something. (Ex: "I had to schlep all the way across campus, my backpack was so heavy." Usually denotes a long walk, but other forms of transportation are acceptable too. "You drove all the way to New York from Florida? That's quite the shlep.")

Shtati - Something really cool. (Ex: "I visited my friend's place and they had a shtati mezuzah!")

Neshama - Soul. (Ex: "Mazel tov on your conversion, you have such a strong Jewish neshama!")

Balagan - A big mess, chaotic, confusing (Ex: "Moshe forgot to bring challah for shabbat dinner, and it turned into this big balagan")

Achi/Achoti - "Achi" literally means "my brother," but can also be used like bro or dude, "achoti" is the feminine equivalent meaning "sister"

Yalla - Come on, let's go (Ex: "Yalla yalla, you're going to make us late again")

Mishpacha - Family. Doesn't have to be literal blood relatives, usually a sign of warmth or friendship. (Ex: "I care about every Jew, they're all my mishpacha.")

Pshhh - Interjection sound, to express respect or agreement with what someone is saying, but can also be playfully poking fun at someone taking themselves too seriously, can be used sarcastically.

Achla - amazing, awesome, great, the best (Ex: "You graduated from university? Achla!")

Sheina Punem (Shayna Punim) - Pretty face (Ex: My bubbe kept pinching my cheeks and calling me a sheina punem) Can be used ironically, in which case it means "a disgrace."

Ahavat Yisrael - to love your fellow Jew (Ex: "I firmly believe in ahavat yisrael, even if it's hard sometimes.")

Schande - Shame, dishonor among the nations, meaning a Jew who represents Jews badly, a serious insult. (Ex: "He's a schande, he feeds into antisemitic stereotypes.")

Schmutz - Dirt, stain. (Ex: "Use your napkin, you've got schmutz on your face.")

Amalek - Any enemy of the Jewish people. ("[Fill in blank] is the modern Amalek, they hate the Jews.")

Lanceman/Landsmen - Two jews from the same place, a point of connection between two Jews who now live far away from their hometown. (Ex: "Your grandma is from Crown Heights? Mine too, our grandparents are landsmen!")

Goyisch - Something not Jewish (Ex: "I don't listen to Taylor Swift, her music is too goyisch for me.")

Goyischekop/Goyische-kop - Goyisch head, a jew who thinks/sounds like a non-jew. (Ex: "How could you say about your fellow Jew? Do you have a goyische-kop or something?")

Kindaleh/Kinderlach - Little children (Ex: "I passed by the school and saw the kindaleh on the playground, they're so cute!")

Chamud/Chamuda/Chamudi - Sweetie, cutie, usually aimed at children, but can be a term of endearment between a couple. Can be condescending when said rudely to another adult, like "Sweetheart" can be in English. (ex: "Goodnight, Chamudi. I can't wait to see you tomorrow.")

Daven - to pray ("Are you going to join us for davening?")

Frum - A religiously observant Jew. ("He's frum, he davens three times a day.")

Treif - Unkosher, generally something not good, doesn't have to literally refer to a food. ("I trained my dog to stop barking when I say 'treif!'.")

Bubkis - Zero, nothing, nada ("Moshe got a gift from bubbe and I got bubkis.")

Kvetch - To complain ("I'm just kvetching, I'm not that upset about it.")

Kvell - Extreme pride. ("I heard your daughter made it into her top school, you must be kvelling!")

Mensch - A good, admirable person. ("He volunteers every week, he's a mensch.")

Chillul HaShem - Disgracing God's name, someone who does something that makes Jews look bad.

Kiddush HaShem - Something that sanctifies God's name, brings honor to God. ("I love seeing you wear a kippah, it's a kiddush HaShem!")

Bubbe meise - Little white lies ("He told his teacher a bubbe meise about his dog eating his homework.")

I should acknowledge that these are mostly Yiddish words, as my experience is primarily with Ashkenazi Jews. If you would like to add common slang from your community (like Ladino phrases, Judeo-Arabic, Italki, etc) I would love to learn about them!

[bejeweledblondie]

Captain John Price Headcannons

A/N: these are as realistic as I can make ‘em about to be, all of the headcannons I have are inspired by my personal experiences living on a military base & the experiences I’ve had with foreign military (even the Brits, playing cards against humanity with them was interesting)

Captain John Price x F! Reader

• You & Price met through Laswell, you were her intern turned assistant you had gone to college for international relations

• Your intelligence sparked his interest, Laswell had to do a whole presentation on their Task Force should interact with the women in some of the countries they completed missions in

• He was fully attentive & took notes the entire time

• When Price had asked you to dinner it took you by surprise initially, you were oblivious to his small gestures

• He’d bring you coffee, always visit you at least once a day, & would offer to carry your bag into the office

• He took you to a nice little Italian restaurant

• He opened the car door, made you walk on the inside of the street, pulled you chair out etc.

• His parents & grandparents raised him to be a proper gentleman

• He ordered the nicest wine for the both of you

• Afterwards, you guys walked around & just chatted, the conversation flowed beautifully

• When he drove you home he walked you to your door & you kissed him goodnight, once you closed the door he had a shit eating grin

• That following Monday a giant bouquet of roses sitting on your desk with a sweet note from him

• He’s so sweet on you, a true gentleman

•He found out how much you loved dogs & gifted you a golden retriever puppy

• You cried when he gifted the puppy to you

• After a year & a half of being together he proposed to you

• He used the Diamond from his grandmothers ring as your center stone, & he spent months with a jeweler custom making

• Laswell knew the entire time while he was planning the proposal & the ring

• Your wedding was a winter one the week after Christmas so everyone was able to take leave

• Soap, Simon, & other men he had served with were all part of the Saber exit you had at the end of your ceremony

• Soap was the one who cheekily tapped your behind with his saber to “properly” welcome you into the military

• “Mrs. Captain Jonathan Price, welcome to His Majesty’s Army”

• You guys opted for a nice cottage near post because on post housing absolutely sucks

• Shortly after you two had moved in, you had found out you were pregnant

• It terrified you initially & you came up with a creative way to tell John

• You picked up some Army themed baby onesies at the on post NAAFI (the British equivalent of the U.S. Militaries Post Exchange)

• You told him once he got home he had a gift waiting for him & he initially looked confused at the baby onesies, then it clicked

• The both of you decided to hold off on telling everyone until you were far enough long & starting to show

• You both decided to wait to find out the gender

• He treats you like a China doll while you’re pregnant (along with everyone else)

• You’d wake up to him talking to your stomach, he’d tell your baby all about his day

• In office surprise baby shower happened & everyone went ham with the gift buying

• An emergency hostage rescue operation came across Laswell’s desk the week you were due

• You sobbed into him when he told you, he absolutely hated seeing you this sad

• Like clockwork the night he was already mid-mission, once he got back Laswell informed him you were in full blown labor

• John was crushed, one of the nurses held your phone up so he could at least watch his baby being born on screen

• He broke down once he heard the cries of their infant coming into world

• It was a boy, you decided to name him John as well both after his father & grandfather

• He met you in the hospital 12 hours later still in his gear

• As soon as he possibly could this man brought y’all’s son to work

• Laswell was all over him, constantly wanting to hold him

• You do own Tactical Baby Gear with “Price” plastered all over it

• I don’t think you’d return to work after having your first kid tbh… it would’ve been too stressful with Price’s job

• You two definitely have more children, two boys & one girl

• Price 100% coaches your sons soccer (or if you’re not American; football) team

• Your little girl has him wrapped around her finger (along with her “uncles)

• He would sport a tiara & boa for her tea parties (any “uncle” that came over would too)

• He brought his daughter & her little friends to the Eras Tour (he had a blast btw)

• I think your two sons would join the army to follow in their father’s footsteps

• He was so proud when they graduated from Basic Training

• Price on the battlefield is a hardened man but as soon as he walked into your home his hard exterior dropped & he’d go full on domestic he truly loves you & the life you two had built

✨NSFW✨

• Price was the one who had been your first, due to the fact you focused more on school & your studies you hadn’t been with anyone else

• He wears that like a badge of honor, knowing he was the first & only one to show you how you should be treated in bed

• somewhat discreet office sex

• you’d like out a whimper or a moan & he’d whisper “mmmm you gotta be quiet sweetheart, you don’t want anyone to walk in hmmm”

• you have sucked him off while he’d been on calls in his own office

• he smokes cigars while you ride him in your backyard’s hot tub

• you’re a moaning mess on his cock & he’s just taking in the view of you bouncing up & down on him

• he’s 100% an ass man

• has a HUGE corruption kink, & loves being called “daddy” or “captain”

• he has a collection of nude Polaroids of you hidden in his bucket hat, Soap accidentally found one that had fallen out & Price immediately ripped it from his hands

• He definitely bought you sex toys before he leaves for deployment

• you two go at it like rabbits when he comes home (makes sense how y’all have three kids)

• you gave him a blow job after he was honored at a military ball in the bathroom, as a thank you for his service 😏

• People assume you two are vanilla & bland in the bedroom as oatmeal but boy looks can be deceiving

[devilfic]

❝honeymoon❞

III. on the clock.

parts: previously / next plot: your mother has been conducting business with some pretty shady business partners and it puts you in danger. thankfully, saving you is in your husband's job description. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: arranged marriage, friends to enemies to (fake) lovers, implied history between reader and bruce, violence, bruce being a little Bossy, use of the gender neutral honorific "mx" (feel free to insert mr. or mrs. there if you like). words: 2.1k.

a/n: been watching a bit of supergirl lately and I'm a big fan of the "supergirl is lena's scary guard dog" dynamic they've got going on. got inspired

You suck in a breath between barely parted lips before the smoke hits you in a cloud. Thick, pungent. You hold your breath even as the smoke tickles your eyes, makes them water, until it clears and all you're left with is the bastard sitting across from you, "I understand that it might be... upsetting to hear, but Wayne Enterprises thanks you for all you've done during our partnership."

Cigar hanging from the jaws of a wolf, Mr. Carpinelli is hardly upset. He's grinning around the head of his cigar when he tells you, "You're making a big fucking mistake." He's furious.

You keep your head held high, "Again, I deeply apologize for how abrupt this must be. As acting CEO, I have had to make some tough decisions in the past but this is by far one of the toughest." You bite the lie out, appearing sweet and docile. "You were one of our best. We will be looking forward to all Carpinelli & Sons' future business ventures."

You hear the hacking in his throat before it lands on the ground in front of your feet: a fat, muddy glob of spit sits a (thankful) hair away from your shoe, and even you can't bother to hide your scowl.

You let him smoke in your (Bruce's) office. You let him kick his feet up on your desk. You even let him have some of the good brandy, and watched him gobble it up like four ounces of the stuff didn't cost the full price of his pretty snakeskin shoes.

And he spit at you.

Mr. Carpinelli stands to his feet and puts his cigar out on your desk and really, that should have did it for you, but you bite your tongue until you taste blood. Then he points one fat finger at you, about as fat as the Corojo burning a ring in your desk, "Tell your bitch of a mother she should've told me herself."

"My bitch of a mother didn't give the order," and your venom is not on behalf of your mother, lest anyone be mistaken, "I did."

Something flickers in Carpinelli's eyes. Without another word, he leaves the office in a flourish, and you sink back into your chair only when your ears cease ringing.

Bruce is delighted. Or you think he might be. You weren't certain what delight looked like on him these days, but the solid "OK" in response is enough for you to focus on your shaking. You remind yourself that you're not out of the woods yet, and that Carpinelli was only one half of the dastardly duo you needed to break up. Eventually, or rather, imminently, she would find out what you'd done. It'd be better to break the news in person before she got word from Carpinelli herself.

But Bruce approved. Bruce, who'd been on the same page as you when you'd brought up the idea, who'd left you in less despair than when he'd found you, agreed with you. Your mother be damned and damned should she be, you at least had Bruce on your side.

You step out into humidity and immediately one of the doormen flanks you, rushing to open your car door for you with a "Goodnight, Mx. Wayne" and a "get home safe" that goes in one ear and out the other. You just barely have the wits about you to return the pleasantry, climbing into the backseat of your car with your hand halfway to the collar of your coat when you freeze.

Across from you is Mr. Carpinelli, smiling around another cigar. How the smell of it hadn't hit you when you first sat down was far beyond you. The car jerks into Gotham city traffic without a hitch. A glance in the rear-view tells you that this is not your usual driver.

You're trying really hard to not let this get to you.

"I forgot to say before: congratulations on the nuptials."

"The wedding hasn't happened yet."

Carpinelli raises an eyebrow, "But you still make the help call you Wayne?"

"Can I help you with something, Mr. Carpinelli?" It takes some hidden strength in you to keep the shake out of your voice, "Perhaps I wasn't clear enough before?"

The mob boss stretches his leg until his foot is pressing into the bottom of your seat, those same pretty snakeskin shoes marred by mucky rainwater. You turn your knees away but feel the water drip onto your ankle. You resist the severe urge to drive an ice pick through his skull.

"I called your mommy after our little conversation," your blood runs cold, "and she told me to disregard your little... power trip." He blows a ring of smoke, "So no bad blood here."

"Did she, now?"

"Mhm. Seemed pretty pissed, too. Hope she doesn't ground ya."

"You seem to think it's her name on the building."

"It ain't yours."

"Yet."

Carpinelli laughs, brushing some ash onto the carpet, "Funny. How that works." And he sits up, crouching in front of you with his cigar raised above your knee. His other hand clutches it in his meaty palm. His cigar is close enough to the skin that you can feel the heat coming off of it, all the while struggling against suffocating on the smoke. Your phone is in your coat pocket and there'd be no way to discreetly get to it with him this close. "Listen, doll. I'm doing this as a courtesy. I don't usually give people the chance to piss me off twice."

The panic button in all Wayne Enterprises vehicles is under the seat, however.

Carpinelli keeps talking and you take your hands out of your lap, leaning forward and feigning that you're listening. All the while, your fingers are stretching under the seat, searching for that little, tiny, infinitesimal-

The car rocks violently as something heavy lands on top of it with a thud. It shocks Carpinelli enough that he lets your knee go, turning his head up to the ceiling, "What the fuck was that?"

The driver knows just as much as the two of you do. You feel him jerk the car straight, but before he can pull over to check what made the sound, a fist punches through the roof of the car.

It's enough to make Carpinelli fall over like a bumbling buffoon.

He doesn't get very long to collect himself. The metal of the roof is being torn back, making an ugly sound as the hole gets bigger. You manage to locate the panic button just in time to see a hand reach down into the car and grip Carpinelli by the front of his suit and... and snatch him out.

The driver nearly crashes the car into a building trying to pull to a stop, fumbling futilely for the handgun at his side, but another hole is punched into the roof above his head and he's dragged out just as dramatically as Carpinelli.

Before you can be stolen too, you crawl to the front and unlock the car before throwing your full weight against the door to escape.

Outside, you find the driver splayed out on the sidewalk, out cold. On the street, Carpinelli is crawling away on all fours from... your husband. In all his caped glory.

"I-I didn't do nothing! I swear!" Carpinelli cries. You watch, however, as Bruce plods up to him. He ignores his pleas for mercy and yanks him up by the collar once more. Carpinelli's feet dangle inches off the ground.

"Who'd you pay off?" Bruce's voice barely carries over the noise of the city, but you hear it from where you're crouched behind the car.

"Wh... what? What are you talking about?" Bruce violently shakes Carpinelli and you watch as the smaller man grips at his arm for dear life. "I swear to God, I got no idea what you're talking about!"

"Your driver. Not your car. Who did you pay off?"

Carpinelli's eyes are wild. You've never seen true fear like that before, "Nobody! Nobody. My guy stole the keys and badge off the other driver. That's all!" When Bruce doesn't immediately release him, the mob boss keeps squealing, "T-The driver's in the boiler room. Knocked out cold. He's not dead. I promise."

Seconds might as well be minutes as you and Carpinelli hold your breaths. Waiting for the Batman's judgment.

Bruce yanks Carpinelli toward the car, rams his head into the trunk, and lets the unconscious mob boss roll under the boot.

After a few stuttered breaths, you stand to your feet.

Bruce doesn't raise his head from where he'd been staring down Carpinelli, but his eyes flit to you in an instant. Stepping over the bottom half of your abductor, Bruce makes his way around to you.

You're gearing up to tell him you're alright when his hands find both sides of your face, effectively silencing you, "Did he hurt you?"

You tremble. The adrenaline rush was falling steadily, but Bruce hasn't touched you like this since... since... since before he began to hate you.

His eyes are all full of concern though, the clearest his expression has been toward you since this whole engagement kicked off in the first place. You feel like you're really seeing him right now and it's too delicate for you to grasp. You wade in it a little longer, selfishly, "You got here just in time. Before I even hit the panic button, I- how?"

You're surprised to find Bruce suddenly timid. He releases your cheeks and despite the dewy heat of early summer, you crave the warmth of his hands instantaneously. "There's a bug in the office."

You blink, "Come again?"

"The cars, too."

"Like... recently, or..." Bruce gives you a look that says "I think you know the answer to that". Somehow, this is more chilling than almost being kidnapped. "Do you... listen to everything?"

"Do you have something to hide?"

No, you want to say, just hours of me singing to myself, ranting to the wall, and unscheduled visits from my mother about how I should baby trap you. Surely, if he'd heard any of that, he'd have sued your mother into oblivion and this whole marriage would have been done for. You swallow down the panic and shake your head, "Not really, no."

Sirens in the distance grow louder as they reach your destination, and sure enough, the signal to the GCPD had gone through without a hitch. Several cop cars round the corner and Bruce carries Carpinelli and the driver's body out into the street for them to pick up.

You glance between him and the first cop that pulls up, "I should... probably grab another ride to my mother's. She's going to be furious about... well, everything."

But before you can walk away, Bruce grips your upper arm and pulls you back into his side, making you stumble and grab onto his chest. You stare up at him, bewildered. Bruce grunts. "That can wait. I'm taking you home."

"But the police-"

"Emilio Carpinelli? Is it my birthday, Batman?" One of the cops snickers as he walks up, handcuffs at the ready, "What happened here?"

Bruce cuts you off before you can answer, "Attempted kidnapping and criminal threat toward the Wayne Enterprises CEO. Carpinelli admitted to the assault of the Waynes' driver, as well as stealing his badge and keys. Send a car to Wayne Enterprises to retrieve the driver from the boiler room. That's all he admitted to."

"Will do. And you, Mx. Wayne? Sure hope he didn't get his filthy paws on ya."

You shake your head, "No, thank goodness. Batman arrived just in time."

The cop nods, "Well, we'll probably need to bring you in for further questioning. Just to corroborate the story in fuller detail."

"Tomorrow. Bruce Wayne wants them back home now."

The cop looks between you and Batman, eyes narrowing in confusion. Eventually, they land back on you for confirmation, "Yes," you breathe, leaning into Bruce's side with intention now, "my husband- well, fiancé is very worried. But I'll be happy to stop by the precinct bright and early tomorrow morning, if that's alright?"

And it's not like the guy is gonna argue with you when your kidnapping lead to the arrest of one of the biggest dons running Gotham City. He leaves you and Bruce with a nod and a call to stay safe.

But as Bruce leads you in the direction of what is slowly appearing to be the "Batmobile", you pry his hand off your arm and hold it in between you instead, "Mr. Wayne wants me home, you said?"

Bruce pointedly ignores the teasing in your tone, "God forbid someone else tries to make off with you."

[inbabylontheywept]

Alright. So. I have a confession to share with you. In middle school, I strongly identified as a libertarian. In my defense, I was 13 and I had autism. Against my defense, I was literate, and capable of using common sense. I confessed this to you willingly, so go easy on me.

One thing about this that I can share with you is that I, as a 13 year old boy, read Atlas Shrugged. I read it as someone very committed to the ideology, who wanted to believe it, who wanted to like it, and there are two things I can share with you about that book from that time period.

The writing is terrible. It has the slowest, most boring, most pretentious prose you could possibly imagine. Calling it glacial would be a compliment. It makes glaciers look like Formula 1. There is no description for the pacing outside of hellish torments. It is like being condemned to watch a dog with an itchy ass wear the Himmalayas away only by scooching. It is like counting the grains of sand on a beach while Alexa reads off random phone numbers. It is like dipping saltines into lukewarm tapwater while listening to white noise in a beige room with no doors. It is like wearing a blindfold and being told to guess what a man is painting by sound alone, but there is no man, there is only a dog licking cold vaseline off a window. Forever. It is all of those things and more.

There is a multipage rant about how affairs are Good and Rational that is so insanely desparate that even middle-school-autist me thought she must have been having an affair while she wrote this. And then I googled it, and the answer was yes, she was. She called her philosophy Objectivism, because she believed, like everyone else in the world, that her ideas and motivations were Pure and Rational and Ojectively Correct, but I still find the name accurate, because it was really written with one Objective in mind, and that was finding a way to never admit that Ayn Rand had ever made a mistake in her life.

I was going to rant more about this but I kind of lost my train of thought. The book fucking sucks. It was propaganda of such remarkably low caliber that it actually helped me move out of those circles. Every time someone talked about liking the book, I'd reply with something along the lines of "Yeah, I especially loved the part where she destroyed the post modernists by unequivocally condemning affairs", and if they agreed with me, they would have lost my respect forever, and if they looked very embarrassed, I could at least acknowledge that they had a soul, albeit small and malformed. I had dozens of people claim that they read the book, and only three or four actually passed the test.

And now, goodnight.