#kids don’t always just ‘know better’

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green - Part 15

Danny was sitting on his bed, legs crossed with his blue bear set on his lap. He was stroking a thumb over it’s nose, gaze absently out the window.

Jason leaned against the door frame. “Danny?”

The blue eyes snapped to Jason. They were a different color from Bruce’s, just slightly. There was that damning green ring around the outside of the iris, just like Jason’s own, but the green bled less into the blue for Danny.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Danny said with a small smile and a duck of his head. He moved his hand from the bear’s nose to rub at the back of his neck. “I guess it’s just been a long day.”

“Makes sense, lot of busyness all day,” Jason agreed. It really had been. From meeting Steph with breakfast to games after when Tim joined them at lunch, new phone in hand, and then with Duke there briefly for dinner, fully suited up, the safe house had been full all day. Jason had worried about it being too much, but Danny seemed happy, if slightly quiet. But then again, Danny was almost always quiet. “Do you need me to stay? Nightwing will be here in about two hours to change over with B.B., but I’ll stay if you need me to.”

“No, you should go,” Danny insisted. “I’ll just be asleep, I figure I’m going to crash after today.”

Jason smiled a little. It was nice to have Danny sound more like a kid lately. “I bet. Call me if you need, O will make sure that the number on the phone patches into my comms.”

“What if you’re busy?”

“Then O will talk to you herself or pass you to another Bat. There’s always one of us around for you.”

Danny’s smile looked a little wobbly as he nodded, and Jason gave into ruffling the kid’s hair before he left to go make a much needed appearance at Crime Alley.

-

“You’re healing well,” Nigthwing said as he smoothed down the last bandage.

“Yeah,” Danny said softly, ruffling the towel one more time through his hair so that he didn’t have to look at Nightwing.

It was still a marvel to be touched gently like that.

They all showed such care with him and his wounds. It made everything all the more obvious to Danny. Nightwing and the others were interested to see if he was healing so that he could be well. His par— they had been interested for far different reasons.

He hadn’t seen it when he was a kid with scrapped knees from falling off his bike.

Now he couldn’t unsee it.

He was always an experiment to them, wasn’t he? He was never their kid. If he had been their kid they wouldn’t have been able to cut into— to take— to do… to do….

“Danny?”

Danny sucked in a sharp breath through his nose and tried to blink away the memories. “What?”

“There you are.” Nightwing’s smile was sad as he brushed back a lock of Danny’s hair. Hadn’t Nightwing just been wearing gloves?

Danny ran his fingers over his bear, grounding himself in the soft texture. His bear. He was on the couch wrapped in a blanket holding his bear.

He had just been in the bathroom.

Danny blinked slowly. “I, um…”

“It’s okay. You just went away for a bit. I moved you when you stopped answering me. It’s been about seven minutes. Nothing’s happened.”

“Oh.”

Hadn’t he been getting better? He hadn’t thought… Why did he have to think about them?

“Hey, Danny, it’s okay, you don’t have to cry,” Nightwing said, “or, you know, cry if you need to! That’s okay too. Just, we’re not going to let anyone hurt you here.”

Danny sniffled and turned his head to rub his face against the blanket. Nightwing shouldn’t promise that— he couldn’t promise that. They didn’t know what Danny was. They didn’t know who was after him. It was unfair to ask that of them— to make them feel like they had to promise him that.

“I’m okay,” Danny said with a watery smile.

He wasn’t.

“How about a movie?” Nightwing suggested and Danny was grateful for the out.

He tried not to cling as they settled into the couch to watch through the Jurassic Park movies.

“The newest one is stupid in all the right ways,” Nightwing said cheerfully. He must have known that Danny wanted to cling, because he tucked Danny close after everything was set up.

Danny watched the movie without seeing it.

They thought they had to take care of him.

They couldn’t promise that. They didn’t even have the whole story. Sure, Hood had died too, but he was so different than Danny in that. Hood had come back. Hood was alive. Danny didn’t count as alive anymore, not even in this form.

Did Danny ever really count as alive?

He was just an experiment.

A test.

He was never supposed to have ever been.

Danny let his eyes close. What movie were they on now? Did it matter?

Did any of it matter?

He wasn’t supposed to have ever been.

Maybe he shouldn’t have ever been, but there he was. There he was, dead and alive. A child and a monster. And he knew, worst of all, because of what he was they would never let him go. Danny knew that, it’s why he had run to Gotham. He thought that maybe if he could just get the money to leave the country somehow… Bruce Wayne had to be able to do that. Even if— even though there’s no way that Wayne would care about Danny, he had hoped maybe he could get the help. A one off to be out of Bruce Wayne’s life forever and not a media scandal. He just needed to…

The gentle fingers carding through his hair started to chase away Danny’s thoughts.

But the Bats had found him.

The Bats had found him and the Bats cared.

Danny wanted that. Danny wanted that so desperately that it hurt him. He’d been just taking advantage of it too, hadn’t he? Because he wanted it he’d been taking it without them knowing what he was. And now they were acting like they wanted him to stay.

But they didn’t know.

Danny’s breath caught in his throat, feeling like it was choking him.

He had run to Gotham. He had run to Gotham but that wouldn’t stop them. They would find him here. They would find him and because of him they would find Hood. They would find Hood and take him too. And then they would find Robin. They would find all these wonderful, kind people that had been touched by death in all these ways and they would take them. They would take them and cut them apart and—

Danny bit his lip so that he couldn’t make a sound.

They would find him if he made a sound.

“It’s okay Danny, just rest.”

Danny’s eyes snapped open. The afternoon light from the window in his room was playing across his face. His heart thudded in his chest. He was afraid.

But he was afraid with a sense of certainty that he hadn’t had before.

-

“Go get Danny for lunch,” Jason said as he flipped the sandwich on the pan with the same intense focus that he did everything these days.

Dick had to fight back a smile. Getting to be around his little wing so much over the past weeks had been great. Sure, Jason was still mulish and snapped easily, but Dick had also gotten to see so much more of who Jason was behind that defense. Dick loved getting to see that. Giving into the urge to smile, Dick gave a little salute and swung himself off the counter.

Maybe if they were lucky all this could continue after they got Danny settled. It had to, right? Jason seemed pretty attached to Danny, not that Dick could talk, so Jason was sure to come over to see their new brother. Dick would still have time with Jason.

Dick gave a soft knock on Danny’s door before opening it a crack. If Danny was still asleep, Dick didn’t want to startle him.

Except Danny wasn’t still asleep.

Danny wasn’t even in the room.

The bed was fixed and Danny’s tablet and phone sat neatly in the middle.

“He just in the bathroom,” Dick tried to assure himself even as his instincts screamed that was wrong. Silently, silently purely out of habit, Dick approached the bed.

The tablet’s screen was on.

Dick picked it up with hands that only stayed steady from years of training.

No.

No, no, no—

“Jason!”

-

Thank you. Thank you for saving me and caring for me and wanting me. Thank you. You all mean so much to me and that’s why I have to go. I have to go before they find me and then find you all too. I can’t let them find you. I’ll never forget you. Don’t look for me. -Danny

--- AN: *puts on my halo* I'm innocent?

This prob could use a few more editing passes but I am still sick and tired so taaaada (no concrit needed, it will get edited before ao3). Hopefully you all still enjoyed(?) it! Stay delightful, darlings.

#dp x dc #batpham #city pigeons

[writingroom21]

I Dare You

Pairing: Bestfriend!Rafe x fem!reader

Summary: A game of truth or dare shouldn't be an issue right? Definitely not when it's with you hot best friend. It's all fun and games right?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up), p in v, cockwarming, cream pie, slight chocking and slapping, teasing, let me know if I miss any

Wc: 3.2K

“Let’s play a game or something?” Rafe suggests next to you. You’ve been hanging out for the past few hours. It’s kinda a tradition at this point. Every week the two of you will hang out at either Tanny Hill or your house. The two of you would spend the time watching movies and binge eating pizza or whatever food you decide.

Tonight was the same thing. You had ordered pizza and wings before Rafe got to your house. Giving him the perfect timed entrance with the food since he ran into the delivery boy. That was at least four hours ago and the food is long gone. The movies you watched are just rolled credits. 

“I think I have Monopoly in the closet. We also have the switch that we can play on.” You rack your brain trying to think of what games that you have. “OOO! We can play just dance.” Rafe groans at the thought of the game. All throughout middle school you were obsessed.

Everyday you would go home from school, do your homework and play for hours. It was a great way of letting out energy while also giving you a workout. Your love for the game was then forced onto Rafe. You made him go home with you one day after school and play. Rafe has always been athletic, even as a child he loved sports. But that game took something out of him.

Every move was always red, never getting the motion correctly. Don’t get him started on the burn he would feel the day after. All the jumping around and the squating tore his muscles til they were strands. He hated that damn game but for some reason he would go back to your house the following day to do it over again. Now even thinking about the game hurts him.

“I would rather get back together with Christine then play that game.” He’s being over dramatic. The game isn’t even that bad. To say he would rather get back with the ex that stole from him, tried to sleep with his dad, and reported him to the cops is crazy. The stare you are giving him tells him you aren’t convinced. “Okay I wouldn’t but seriously I am not playing that death game.” Typical Rafe, drama queen. “Fine then what do you want to play? We can just put on another movie if you’re that bored.”

You took the bait without even thinking too much about it. “Why don’t we play truth or dare?” He suggests. His eyes are staring at the phone in his hands but he keeps an eye on you. Watching the perplexed look you give him. “Truth or dare? What are we twelve?” Teasing him will never get old. He just has a habit of saying the dumbest or weirdest things when he’s comfortable around people. Teasing him is a part of the friendship.

Rafe throws his phone on your bed as he moves around to look at you better. “Weren’t you watching that dumb kids tv show the other day? Gluey or something.” “Bluey.” You correct him. “That doesn’t matter. It’s good for your brain to help relax, you clearly need it.” Your foot nudges his thigh as you poke fun at him. He catches it and yanks you closer to him, your legs resting on his lap now.

You get a little more comfortable, fluffing the pillow behind you as you lay back. “It does matter. You watch something made for toddlers but you can’t play truth or dare. Come on indulge me.” He whines, his hand squeezing your calf. The feeling of his hands on you is not something new. You are one of the only people that he is comfortable enough to physically touch. The only thing is that sometimes the touch lingers, filling you with a fluttering feeling. 

Clearing your throat to distract from your emotions, you answer. “Fine. Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” You giggle as you think of something. “I dare you to try on one of my dresses.” His face drops and your giggles become full laughs. “Fuck you. I’m not doing that shit, think of something else.” His nails graze along your skin, reaching your knee then going down. “Nope, gotta follow the rules.” You know he would never put on a dress in his life. You also know that he has a hard time saying no to you. 

This is more of a test to see how far he would really go. “Too fucking bad. I’m not going to wear one of your dresses.” You pull your legs back to your body. Rafe tries to stop you from leaving but you had already turned away from him. “Baby come back.” There it is. That little moment he gives you butterflies. He’s been calling you that recently.

Baby

Like some freudian slip, a moment where he truly reveals how he feels. You ignore him as you open your closet grabbing a crop top instead. A dress was a long shot but you could pull this off. You walk back over to the bed, shirt in hand as you climb up. “What are you doing?” He’s watching as you crawl over to him. He can’t help but to have to adjust his pants. The action doesn’t go unnoticed.

“If you put the shirt on I’ll be happy. Then we can continue.” Rafe stares at the shirt then you. “Plus guys in crop tops are kinda hot.” You shrug your shoulders, looking down at the fabric and playing with it. Fanning innocence in your words to hide your true intentions. His eyes perk up hearing you say that. “You think guys look hot in that?”

His voice somehow got a little lower. You are itching to squeeze your thighs to sedate the ache you feel. But you won’t let him see that this is affecting you. It’s harder for him to hide and your eyes keep glancing down to get a peak. “Yeah. I like when you can see how tight the shirt is over their muscles.” Your eyes follow along his chest, imagine the shirt clinging to life on his chest. Your fingers are dying to touch him.

“Give me the damn shirt.” Rafe rips his shirt off, taking yours and puts it on. You mindlessly stare at him. You were right, the shirt is clinging to him. His muscles are stretching it out but his biceps are the main show. They are bulging out, the fabric barely holding together. He could choke you with his arms and you would be happy.

“Happy?” Your eyes flicker up to his. “Very.” Rafe shifts back to relax, his arm resting by your folded legs. His fingers extend out to brush against your exposed skin. “Truth or dare?” You think about it and take a long pause. “Truth.” His eyes squint at you, expressing his irritation that you took the easy way out. “Why did you and Evan break up?” 

He knows why you two broke up, it was him. Evan made it known he never liked rafe and your friendship with him. It definitely didn’t help when Rafe and him got into a fight. Rafe may have implied that you would leave him in an instant if he asked you to. That really set him off and escalated from there. The next day you told Rafe that you and Evan had broken up. He was relieved to know he had once again chased off another guy.

“We had a huge fight after the party. He accused me of sleeping with you and wouldn’t stop yelling. In the end he told me I had to choose, you or him. I chose you.” His hand sandwich between your calf and thigh. Tightening as his mind processes what you said. “Why?” “That’s not the game. My turn.” He tries to protest and you won’t let him. You can’t admit that a part of you does want him. Evan was right to be concerned, not that you would cheat but that you have feelings for Rafe.

“Dare.” You wish you had fought harder to not play this game. You suck at coming out with things to say. “Are you always going to say dare?” “Yes.” You huf a bit. “I dare you to take a thirst trap photo and send it to the group chat.” He groans, already picturing the texts he’s about to get. Reluctantly he gets up positioning himself in front of your full length mirror. He takes the picture and sends it to the chat.

Automatically Top and Kelce start blowing up the group chat. He ignores them and walks back over. “Truth or dare.” You don’t even think. “Dare.” He crawls on the bed like you did earlier, forcing you to lay back. His body is hovering above you, hand playing with the hair that frames your face. “I dare you to show me what you got earlier at Victoria Secret.” He saw the package when he got through the door. His curiosity was eating at him. Smirking, you run your hand around his chest, teasing where the shirt ends only to push him off you.

You grab the box that was sitting on your dresser and open it up. Slowly you take off your sleep shorts and shirt. Your fingers wrap around the thin piece of fabric you call underwear. Pulling them down inch by inch teasing him further by throwing them at him. You don’t know where your confidence came from. Before today you would never strip naked in front of Rafe, you just can’t help yourself.

You take out a red lace teddy, the lace only covers part of your sides and your breasts. It was held together by thin straps, leaving your front fully exposed. Rafe’s hand starts to palm himself over his sweatpants, the pain in his dick becoming unbearable. “Fuck you look good.” You giggle and give him a twirl shaking your ass in the process. “Yeah? You like it, pretty boy.”  Your hands are roaming your body, pausing to play with your breast.

Rafe can’t help but stare. “Come here.” You do without question, not wanting to let go of the game you ask him again. “Truth or dare.” Rafe reaches for your sides as soon as you get close. Playing with the lace between his fingers. “Can we both just stick to dare? It’s more fun that way.” Smiling you lean in, closing the gap slightly. “I dare you to take off your pants.” Like a good boy he does.

His boxer does nothing to hide the impressive dick he has. Your mouth water just thinking about it. Without really thinking your hand lands on his thigh, making its way up and retracting as soon as you get close to his dick. “Don’t be shy, baby. You can touch me.” Your eyes look at him through your eyelashes. He could probably cum just from watching you. Bingo

“I dare you to touch yourself.” A gasp leaves your lips at his dare. You know what he means, he wants you to pleasure yourself in front of him. But instead of listening you start to touch your thighs, then arms, and chest. “You know what I meant. Don’t you go start being a brat right now.” Giggling you move his thighs, slotting yourself in between them. Leaning back you expose yourself to him. The open crotch leaves you fully bare to him.

“Fuck.” He grunts as your fingers play with your clit, collecting the wetness by your entrance to help your movements. You almost get lost in the feeling, forgetting about the game, almost. “I dare you to take those boxers off and show me how you take care of yourself.” Rafe’s dick twitches when the cool air of your room hits him. His hand rapidly wrapping around himself and tugging. 

The two of you kinda stay there in a lull. Both of you watch the other as they play with themselves, waiting the other out till they crack. Rafe had envisioned this differently, he thought he would be the one having you begging for him. Now he doesn’t even know if he can go another minute without touching you. Without feeling you stretch out on him. He knows this is only going to torture himself more but he can’t help it. “I dare you to come sit on my lap.”

You may have been confident before but this is going further then you thought. Before you can psych yourself out you do it. Throwing your legs over his, your folds parting as you sit down on him, his dick laying perfectly on your pussy. His hands find your hips as your arms wrap his neck. Holding each other and staring into each other’s eyes. “Like this?” Your voice convey’s innocence, so do your eyes. Melting him even further into your spell. “Just like that baby.” 

His hands start to rock you back and forth, his dick sliding between your folds. The tip brushing against your clit. You let out a moan from the feeling, grinding harder to please him too. Your efforts were rewarded with a chocked moan leaving his perfect lips. Wanting to test how far he’s willing to go, your head leans forward. He's moving in trying to taste your lips, only stopping when he sees that you did. “I dare you to kiss me.” The words whispered on his lips.

Rafe brings a hand up to the back of your neck, dragging you in for a kiss. His lips devour yours as if you were his last meal. With the way that your soaking cunt is drenching him, it might actually be. He feels like he’s in heaven right now, he never wants this feeling to stop. But he knows it could be better. “I dare you to put it in.” Your hips stop, lips following along. There’s saliva connecting your lips as you detach yourself. You look apprehensive, not really sure if you want to ruin the friendship. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

Your fingers graze his scalp, missing when he had hair. The feeling of it weaving through your fingers can be felt lightly. “I miss your hair.” Rafe grins at you, pecking your lips. “I’ll grow it out again if you sit on my dick.” You clench around nothing, itching to feel him inside you. “Plus we’re best friends. We should be able to do everything together.” He brushes a piece of hair behind your ear, his hand resting on your check, thumb grazing your bottom lip. Blue eyes following the movement, flickering up to catch yours.

In your mind you know he’s trying to manipulate you with the best friend card. The truth is you don’t care, you would have pulled the same trick. Rafe isn’t the only one desperate to have him in me. “Okay. Promise this won’t change anything.” you lift your pinky up to him, he latches his to yours. “Promise, Just…just sit on it. That’s all you have to do.” He needs you now, he’ll say or do anything to get it. You lift yourself a little, getting a hold of him to line him up to your entrance.

Slowly you tease your hole with his tip. Slightly putting it in and then going up to then swirl his head around. Rafe is getting frustrated, groans of displeasure leaving his mouth. “Please.” He whines out, hands death gripping your hips. You lightly tap his cheek so he can open his eyes. With a smile you sink down, moaning at the feeling of his big dick stretching you. When you bottom out you lean your forehead on his. Hips flushed to one another.

Your eyes are locked in, watching as you both stew in the pleasure of feeling each other. Your walls are fluttering around him so nicely. He doesn’t know how much of this he could handle. Honestly he’s glad he suggested you cockwarm him. If he was fucking you right now he would have already finished. You are so tight and warm he wouldn’t have lasted a minute. Plus it gives you a chance to get used to him, he doesn’t plan on being gentle next him. His hands explore your back, nails raking down and slapping your ass. You let out a loud moan, your walls contract making him let one out as well. 

The minutes pass by as you two explore each other. Sharing kisses on lips or exposed skin, hands touching every inch they can reach. You can feel him throbbing inside you, pulsating every few seconds. Pulling away, your hands lay flat on his chest to keep him still. “I dare you to touch me.” Tilting your head you mock him. “Let’s see if you can make me cum.” A hand flies to your clit rubbing calculated circles, the other gripping your neck. “Dangerous game you’re playing there, baby.”

Rafe’s back to attacking your lips, moving his assault to your jaw nipping at the skin. His fingers move faster on your clit, hurdling you closer to your orgasim. “Tighter.” You plead, your own hand laying over his to get what you want. He tightens his hold, chuckling at your open mouth expression. “Fucking dirty girl. Here I thought you were my little angel, turns out you're a little devil.” Words don't seem to be forming in your brain.

Everything is blank, the only thing in your head is forcing you to focus on how good his fingers feel. How every twitch of his dick brushes your g-spot only adding to your pleasure. He can feel how close you are, your walls are strangling him. Ironic since it's the same thing he’s doing to you. The fuzziness of your mind snaps the band in your stomach, all the stimulation too much for you to handle. “Rafe please.” Your moans mix with his, they echo in your room bouncing off the walls. 

Rafe continues his motions to help you ride out your orgasim. His hands give up once you relax again. He’s on the verge of cumming, mustering up all his strength he holds back. You sense his hands on your hips ready to pull you up. You slap his hands away, cementing yourself to his lap. He gives you a panic look, knowing he won’t be able to hold off for long. “I dare you to cum in me. We should be able to do everything together right?” The moan he let out was pornographic at best. His body is shaking from how intense his orgasim is.

You moan as you watch him enjoying the view of his face and the feeling of him filling you up. He pulls you to his chest, keeping you close as he comes down. This is better than any drug he has ever taken. Slowly and carefully he moves you around, laying you on your back and pulling out. He stares at his dripping cum slides out of you. “God baby you’re amazing.” He kisses your stomach, chest, chin, then lips.

He holds you there, lips molding with yours. He gets up after a minute, getting a wet rag to clean you up. You lay in bed motionless when Rafe comes back after disposing of the dirty rag. “That was fucking amazing.” You say to your ceiling. Laughing, he lays down next to you. You look at him with a smile. “If you think that was good just wait till I actually fuck you.”

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #obx #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #drew starkey smut #outer banks smut #rafe x you #rafe imagine #outerbanks rafe #best friend rafe #rafe cameron x reader

[sickslimez]

STILL IN LOVE! #7 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

Toji stood in the empty living room, the light illuminating from the television as it played some random show that you were watching before he came. It’s been so long since the last time he was here, at least that’s what it felt like. Nothing really changed for the most part, still the same decor, the layout still the same. He couldn’t help but notice the set of fresh roses that sat on your dining room table, paired with a detailed glass vase. He already had his guesses on who gave them to you.

Toji looked over his shoulder towards the corridor that led to the bedrooms, you were still busy helping Naya wash up. He walked over to the table, fingertips gently touching the delicate petals. There was still regret and jealously that bubbled in Toji’s chest. When it came to you, he was selfish, never thought in a million years he’d lose you once he had you. That was his problem. With each longing look at the roses, it reminded him of when he did have you, the beginning of things. He used to buy you flowers just for the hell of it, buy you small trinkets he knew you’d like, addicted to your smile when he’d handed them to you. But like almost everything in this world, things fall apart.

Those moments turned into him coming home while you were in the kitchen, eating dinner with Naya and Megumi, not even glancing your way. Not a word to you or his kids all because of an argument you had before he left for work that morning. Of course he regrets it all now, when it’s too late for something to be done and said. It’s cliche, but it was true.

His eyes flickered towards the small card by the roses, his jaw clenched as he grabbed it, slowly opening it to read:

Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman — Kento

“Hey.” The sound of your voice snapped Toji out of his thoughts, quickly placing the card down and facing you. “The kids are, uh, asleep.” You nodded.

“Should we talk here or?” Toji cleared his throat, stuffing his hands back into his pockets.

“Bedroom should be fine.” As you walked down the corridor, Toji followed behind you. There was still that picture of you and the kids on the wall, the one that he took when you all went to the water park. It was a bittersweet moment, but he’s glad that you still had it up despite the memory that came with it.

He shut the bedroom door behind him as you stood in the middle of the room. “So, you wanted to talk about the kids and us?”

“Yeah, I just want us to find a level placement where we can co-parent healthily. You know…where we don’t fight and argue every time we talk to each other,” you explained with a slight chuckle. “I just want better communication. Like if you can’t or can take the kids, if you’ll be going to their school events or something.” You fiddled with your hands.

Toji stared at you even while you avoided eye content with him. He took notice you how you played with your hands too, something you always did when you were anxious, thinking about things. He could tell something else was on your mind. Something else was on his mind too.

“What I’m saying is, I just think we should strictly keep communication minimal. Just about our kids. What we do with our personal lives should be kept private unless it involves Naya and Megs somehow.” You inhaled, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

Toji’s brows furrowed at your statement. “Isn’t that what we have been doing?” He questioned, leaning against your wall.

“Despite what you might think, no. And to be honest, I know that you know that not what we’ve doing, Toji,” you scoff.

“If this is about what’s been going on the last few months, I apologize,” he spoke.

“It’s,” you sigh, “it’s more than that. Ever since the divorce, we never acted divorced.”

“You mean how we were still sleeping together,” he bluntly said.

You rolled your eyes at how honest he was, but you should know by now that he was no different from when you first met him. “Yes,” you answered.

“We haven’t slept together in months—”

“And about the unresolved feelings that we still hold for each other. That needs to stop. All of it,” You interrupt.

Toji was at a loss for words, staring at you, and finally for the first time in this conversation, you locked eyes with him. “You’re really taking this guy seriously, huh?”

You sigh, plopping down on the edge of your bed. “He’s a good guy, Toji.”

“I never said he wasn’t.” He shrugged, standing up straight.

“Okay, but you’re acting weird about it. Why can’t you accept that I’ve moved on? You should do the same.” You stood upright. “Me and you,” you gestured between you and Toji, “it won’t work out.”

Toji knew in the back of his head that you were right, but to hear those words out loud felt like a knife to the heart. Both of you stood in silence. All kinds of thoughts were running through his head, every single of them screaming at him to say something, to try and get you to change your mind. He doesn’t want to argue or fight, not anymore, so he holds his thoughts and feelings back even if it does hurt.

Say something. Don’t. Say it. Just keep quiet. Tell her.

“I’ve tried to move on just so you know. I’ve really tried, y/n.” And there it goes. There goes the words spilling out of his mouth despite what may come next. He just needs you to hear him just this one last time. He doesn’t care if it doesn’t change a thing between you two, he needs you to know regardless. “Trying to get with different woman, having sex, drinking, pretending to be who I was before I met you. But where did I end up each time? Right back to you, right back in your bed, in your home, holding you, kissing you, regretting everything bad I’ve ever done to you, to our kids.”

“Toji—”

“We were together for 10 years, married for 8 . As soon as you told me you were pregnant with Megs, I knew right then I wanted to make you my wife, to build a bigger family with you, to do right by you and our kids. I can’t just throw all that away, all those memories. Even the bad ones. You changed me, made me want to be better. No other woman has done that but you.” Toji walked closer towards you. It felt like your feet were glued to the floor, incapable of moving.

“Then why did you treat me that way?” Your voice slightly broke as you held back tears. “Like you were beginning to hate me, to hate us.” The thought made you clench your eyes shut as a frown formed on your lips. You hated to remember. Your should began to shake as a sob racked through your body. “You don’t understand how that made me feel,” you whimpered.

Toji looked at you with soft eyes. “I never hated you or the kids, not a fucking second. That thought would never even cross my mind. Hate the woman who brought me the most beautiful thing life can bring you? Hate them? Even though they can be a pain in the ass,” he chuckled. You laughed along with him, nodding in agreement. “Look at me, mama.” Toji lifted your chin, wiping the tears off of your cheeks. “I can never hate you or our kids. Tell me that you understand that.”

“I understand.” You sniffled.

“I know the way I started treating you and our family towards the end is what caused everything to fall apart. I don’t know why I did what I did. Arguing with you over stupid shit, acting like a fucking asshole, not being there when I should’ve. You had every right to leave. It’s my own fault that I didn’t realize what I had before it was gone. I’ll live with that for the rest of my life. You’re an amazing woman, a beautiful person, a wonderful mother. You were everything I could ever ask for. I’m sorry for making you feel like you were any less than that.” He wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly while you cried into his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

For the first time in years, you and Toji had a conversation without it turning into a heated argument. It was like a huge weight lifted off of your shoulders, like you could finally take a deep breath of fresh air. Toji just held you while you cried it out, rubbing your back gently. Though it hurts, he’s glad he was able to tell you, to apologize. “Mama, you deserve to move on and be happy. It’ll hurt like hell for me, but that’s what I deserve for what I did. My karma. I’ll level with you, I’ll do what you want.”

You pulled away from him, teary eyes staring up into his. “You mean it?”

Without hesitation he replied, “of course.” If it wasn’t painfully obvious already, Toji was still in love with you. How could he not be? He’ll miss you, miss the times you spent together. He wishes he could make up for all those bad times, replace those memories with good ones.

“Thank you, Toji.” You softly smiled.

“Dont thank me. It’s the least I could do.” He held onto your hand, his warm touch lingering on your skin before he pulled it away. “I’ll see you around, y/n.” Before he said anything else, he needed to walk away. Opening your bedroom door, he disappeared from your sight down the hall. You bit down on your bottom lip, brows furrowed as you sat there and began to process everything that happened.

Toji sat in his car outside your house. “Fuck,” he sighed. It should be him. You and him. He should be buying you flowers, kissing your soft lips, holding you tight, making love to you, telling you he loves you. His grip tightened on the steering wheel as looked at your front door. In front of him, a familiar car pulled into your driveway. Toji sat and watched closely, noticing it was the man he caught a glimpse of in your house, your new boyfriend, Kento. As he walked up the steps, you opened the door for him before he knocked, wrapping your arms around him and kissing his lips with a smile. His hands were on your waist as he kissed you back, pulling you closer towards him.

Toji tore his eyes away from the sight in front of him, jaw clenched as he started his car. You were his karma and the woman he was in love with.

series masterlist

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[mavrintarou]

[11:21 AM] Sakus Kiyoomi

Went on a writer's block and vacation, trying to get back into the game again. Had to distract myself with some Kiyoomi, here's sweet Omi.

Warning: Smut, pregnancy talk, daddy Omi in progress

.

Strong and long arms tighten around your waist, a face buried against your shoulder blades as you can feel warm breath fanning through the material of your shirt. Looking over your shoulder, you can see the dark mop of curly locks that are messy from not being properly dry the night before.

Normally, you would have offered to blow-dry his hair but yesterday, Kiyoomi returned home from training in a foul mood. After two years of dating and two years of marriage, you knew it was best to just let him cool off on his own.

You only smile and silently let him know he knows where to find you when he feels better.

You would do your best to make the rest of his night better by heating dinner and pouring him a glass of his favorite wine. Though he wouldn’t be in the mood to talk, you sat across from him and watched him eat.

“Thank you for dinner,” he murmured, his mood a little cooler than a few minutes ago.

“You’re welcome,” you smile, “would you like me to get a bath going for you?”

“Please,” he whispered with a small smile, one you knew that he appreciated your small gestures.

You waited for him in bed but at some point, you must have fallen asleep.

“Thank you.”

Your eyes shot open and you looked over your shoulder, “Omi?”

He hummed, tightening his embrace and holding you close. “Thank you… for everything.”

You blinked, then rested your head back on the pillow, taking a moment for his words to register. It wasn’t unusual for him to express his gratitude, but you found yourself uncertain about what exactly he was thank you for.

“Thank you for always taking care of me, and understanding me.”

You maneuvered around in his arms and faced him. “Of course, but you don’t need to thank me.”

Kiyoomi pressed his lips to your forehead. “Of course I do, I don’t say it enough but I am grateful for you and the things you do for me.  You understand me like no one else. Like heating food for me, getting a bath going for me… even using your ridiculous towel warmer and warming up my towel for me, setting out my clothes for me… you blow-dry my hair for me…”

You reached to touch a spiral strand, “except yesterday…”

He chuckles, “except yesterday, but I forgive you.”

“Thank you,” you say pressing a kiss to his lips. “What happened? Who made your day so bad? Tell me, I’ll fight them.”

His lips curve into a smirk, “it was mom.” He pulls you into the crook of his embrace. “My mom called and gave me the talk, that’s all…”

Your fighting words a moment ago humbled you, you certainly weren’t going to fight your mother-in-law.

You pull back and stare at him, “the talk? About what? You’re twenty-seven years old, what talk is your mom having with you?”

“Grandkids.”

Your mouth is shaped into a big O.

“She wants grandkids…”

You nod your head and then frown, “and that made you upset?”

“Well, yeah,” he responded, his tone carrying an evident clarity. He gently moved your hair aside with his fingers. “You’re my wife, and it’s your body. With today’s technology, childbirth is dangerous and hard on a woman’s body and health. Whether we have kids or not isn’t solely my decision.”

You nuzzle his palm, “well, you play a crucial role though.”

“Well, yeah but…” he paused and narrowed his eyes, “you’re the one carrying the baby for nine whole months.”

“I don’t see the problem here, Kiyoomi.”

“Omi,” he corrected. He let out a sigh, “it’s not a problem, my whole point that I tried to get my mom to understand is that it’s a choice of ours to have children and she shouldn’t be pressuring us.”

“Do you feel pressured?”

He rolled his eyes, “no, I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

You loved this man so much.

“I don’t feel pressured,” you assured, resting a palm over his chest. “Babies kind of sounds nice, don’t you think?”

“Kind of?” he mimicked with a chuckle, he pulled you on top, so you’re straddling him. “A baby sounds nice, let’s start with one first.”

“Like right now?”

You can see him hesitating. “I provide what I can, but you will be the one bearing most of the weight. Is it something you want, Y/n?”

“For a long time now,” you answered instantly.

You’ve longed to start a family for quite a while now. You simply hesitated to broach the subject because it hadn’t been raised by either of you yet. Amongst all your married friends, the two of you were the only ones who hadn’t started a family yet.

“You didn’t say anything!” Kiyoomi exclaimed before bursting out laughing. “I’ve been having baby fever for half a year now since Shoyo had his second boy.”

You frowned at him, “why didn’t you say anything?”

Kiyoomi leaned up and pressed a kiss to your forehead, nose, and lips. “It doesn’t matter what I want, you are the most important person to me and it’s your body. If you didn’t want a baby, I would have been okay with being an uncle.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “You’re so thoughtful, Omi.”

“It’s all thanks to Atsumu, he gave me an earful of being conscience of a woman’s body and their choices.”

You pull back and look at him in the eyes, “you didn’t answer me, so is right now too soon to start?”

Kiyoomi pressed his lips to your neck, his teeth nipping your skin. “No, we’re quite behind actually so we should hurry and… practice… cause practice makes perfect…”

His bulge is more prominent now and you grind your hips against it causing him to groan deeply and sexily. The only thing preventing him from thrusting inside you was the flimsy materials of both your undergarments.

You push him flat down on the bed and move to grab the waistband of his boxer briefs and freeing his cock only. Tugging your panties aside you aligned him at your pussy and sank on him feeling him fill you.

Kiyoomi’s large hands grip your thighs tightly before sliding up to grasp your waist. He pushed himself into the seating position, adjusting you on his lap, making you feel him deeper within you. You gasp, nails digging into his shoulders.

His palms fondle your tits, massaging them before pinching your hardened nipples. “I love your tits, they fill my palm already but I can only imagine how much bigger they would be when they’re full of milk.”

Your hips rocked against his, making you both moan and groan together. His grip slips down to your waist, his nails digging into your skin.

You knew your husband well enough that he was desperate.

So, you waited for him to voice himself.

“Please,” he whispered almost in pain, against your collarbone, “move… move baby…”

Leveraging against his strong wide shoulders, you rocked your hips, teasing him momentarily before leaning forward to kiss him while bouncing on his cock. Your bedroom instantly echoed with lewd smacking clamor.

“Ah!” you moaned when Kiyoomi leaned onto his back and began to thrust up into you, impatient about your pace. Your back arched, pussy clenching around his cock that was hitting deeper. You can feel every contour and grove of his cock.

Kiyoomi growled your name repeatedly with each thrust almost as if he was engraving himself deep within you.

Very few times has he come inside you, and all those times were accidents because there was no condom and he could not pull-out in time.

You squealed as you’re flipped onto your back with your husband towering over you with dark hungry eyes. His messy curly hair made him extra sexier than usual.

Your eyes watch his long fingers trail up your arm until they find your fingers, interlacing them. He pins your hands beside your head, “look at me, Y/n.”  You do as he commanded. “I want your eyes on me as we cum together.”

You nod, unable to find your voice.

He kneels in between your legs, pushing your legs wider to accommodate him. With no warning, he pounded into your pussy with an extreme speed. His grip against your hand tightened as you tried to free your hands to touch him.

“Cum, baby – cum for me…” Kiyoomi whispered in a low hush tone. “Because I want to cum for you, I want to cum deeply inside you. I  want – no – need to cum inside you… put a baby inside you…” his breath haggard with his powerful and deep thrusts that he punctuated each time he said the word cum. “Now I can cum inside you all I want… must… fill… you… with… my… cum.” His teeth nip your collarbone, “must impregnate you now.”

You cried out, legs tightening around his hips. Your pussy tightening and trembling around his cock as it continues to pound and rub against your sensitive walls. “Omi!”

His hands rips away from yours and he shifts himself onto his knees, lifting your hips along, making you arch your back. “You like that? Me wanting to impregnate you? Me breeding you?”

Where is your Omi? Who is this Omi that’s speaking such lewd words to you?

“Omi – wait –…” your words cut off as he thrusts hard and deep, faster than before.

“Ah!” Kiyoomi groaned.

Your eyes widen and you gasp. The sensation of feeling Kiyoomi ejaculate inside felt different than the other times. It may have been the overstimulating thrill but you felt each spurt of cum.   

He lowered your hips without withdrawing his cock just yet. A palm presses against the triangle of your womanhood and you gasp your husband’s name.

“I feel myself…” he murmurs, applying pressure, which makes you cringe – not from pain, but from a peculiar sensation. “I… I don’t want to pull out.”

“Hmm?” you hummed, half understanding him.

“My cum will flow out and… it will be wasted,” his voice laced with concern.

You giggled and reached for him to pull you up. He tugs you until you both are in an intimate lotus position. You looked down where you both are bonded as one. Kiyoomi has never stayed inside you longer than needed to, so to have him ‘plugging’ you this way felt erotic.

You cup his face and look into his eyes, “I’m sure your strongest sperm is swimming and making its way to where it needs to be.”  

. . .

E/n: he's so dreamy.

>>>@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

#haikyuu smut #haikyu x reader #sakusa smut #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi smut #sakusa fluff #daddy Sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi x you #kiyoomi sakusa #kiyoomi sakusa x y/n

[bunnwich]

It's Supposed to Be Fun

(a letter to my friends in the twst fandom)

I've been wanting to make this post for a while and these thoughts may seem scattered but I’m gonna try to express them. 

Lately, I have seen many friends and moots that either are leaving the fandom or feel guilty over not having posted in a while or losing interest in twst. On the other side, I also have friends being harassed.

This a reminder to remember why you joined this community to begin with. I know that keeping up with the fast-moving pace of fandom and comparing ourselves to others, can skew our perspective on these things.

It’s supposed to be fun. 

Why do we post art or write? Sure, partly for recognition, there's no denying that. But, why do we create, I mean really? For enjoyment. Not for others, not to be “popular” FOR JOY.

So, whether you’re dealing with people critiquing you or feeling guilty about not creating. My question is this: Why waste so much of your time on something that makes you miserable?

Did it stop being fun? Why? Haters? Loss of interest?

To my friends who feel guilty for not creating and not sure if they lost interest in twst: 

Don’t feel guilty. At one time, the creation of your twst content was natural. It's what you did for fun with friends or for yourself. Revisit that mindset and think - if creating twst content now will bring that same joy it did before.

If the answer is no, then maybe it’s time to pivot. It’s okay for interests to fade. It doesn’t mean that time, memories, or the friends you made are lost. Connect with your friends, we will understand! We still love you! It's not a race there's no time limit, just pick up were you want to. Draw fanart of old events or OCs.

To my friends who have been harassed: 

I say this with sincerity…. People who harass others over fictional characters are fucking losers.

Like… There’s no other eloquent way to encapsulate it. I’m starting to not care for the reason anymore - If you harass or be shady to others over a ship or fictional character. CONGRATS! YOU ARE A LOSER.

We all join fandoms as a hobby, for fun. We’re all just kids in the sandbox playing pretend again… and if you are the type of person to go up just to “kick the doll out of someone’s hand" or make commentary on how “their way of playing is wrong." You’re a loser. I have a life outside of twst, we all do. Someone saying my ship is wrong or cringe is just so laughable to me. We have to make fun of these people more for being so goddamn lame.

Imagine being so unhappy that when you see someone having fun you HAVE to comment on it. By all means, if it gets you through the day...talk shit to close friends or even post about it on your own blog. (THAT WAS ALWAYS ALLOWED.) Don't bother creators directly. Don't be a loser. I sure see tolerance leave people’s bodies when they see a fandom opinion they don't like. (And this is coming from someone who has lots of opinions on these things! But that's why I always put the disclaimers that, hey this is just MY opinion.)

Discussion is one thing, unhelpful comments are another. We shouldn’t give these people the time of day. Curate your online space. Yes, when you post things online you are subjecting yourself to scrutiny. But, we as creators need to stop letting these people have power over us. Period. We do this for free!! FOR FUN. The best thing you can do is create shamelessly.

Delete weird replies, block whoever you need to do to rid yourself of these people who have nothing better to do. Keep your peace. It’s supposed to be for fun. You don’t owe anyone a response.

The twst fandom is like a little family to me and I guess I feel protective over the people in it?  I have made many friends and memories because I joined it. And even dispite a handful of the negative experiences (AKA: A couple of “losers" that I’ve had to deal with.) I’ll always look fondly back on this time.

The key for me has always been to just…create for myself. I originally made bunnwich for me and one friend to make fun little arts about our Yuu’s and now I get to have lots of friends to share it with! I’ve transitioned from an OC blog to probably more of an Oc x Canon blog…but I don’t care tbh. I just…draw what I feel like. I know there are people who probably dislike me for that or feel strange about my content and that’s fine. I’m still gonna keep drawing it, loser.  

And I just want you guys to do the same, twst or not.

I can’t forget that all my followers and friends are a bonus, if I had never joined tumblr I’d still be drawing the silly shit I draw in peace. And while yes, I do want to grow as an artist and sell more merch and keep growing... I can’t forget my initial excitement for this silly little game. I like to talk about it. I like to write about it. It inspires me.

It’s supposed to be fun. Please remember that. I know it can be discouraging to have others being shitty to you. Or going through a creative drought. But, try not to let this stop you from creating what you love.

#Anyways just had to get this out #feel free to ignore #I love you guys alot and idk if this is helpful but I hate to see you guys upset #ren speaks🌱 #twst

[seeingivy]

middle name

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friends older brother fic

previous part linked here

--

all you can do is stare.  

there’s the smallest hint of gray hairs mixed in with his natural color. his hair is longer, but it’s still the same color. he has the faintest smile lines near his eyes and that small wisp of a beard that he used to always sport is long gone. 

he looks younger. what you assume is his youngest daughter is wearing a sparkly green bracelet. green was always sammy’s favorite color. they both seem to have his nose – though that’s really the only resemblance they bear, since they almost entirely take after the lady at their side. 

she had to be younger than him, a willowing black dress clinging lovingly to her figure. she had the same smile lines and that short haircut that you find young moms always sported, with three stacked silver chains and a glittering diamond on her finger. 

you wonder if she smells like vanilla like your mom does. 

“don’t react.” 

you turn to your left to find sammy at your side, sukuna and yuuji hovering in the background with matching hazel eyes filled with concern. you shake your head – throwing away the image of their picture perfect smiles – as you focus on sammy, mostly on the fact that her upper lip is trembling. 

sammy was always the favorite. 

“what did you say?” you ask. 

“don’t react.” sammy repeats. 

you pause, mulling over the thought. 

“okay.” you respond. 

“yeah? because we can’t give that asshole the satisfaction. he has no right barging in here the way he just did.” sammy seethes. 

you give her a nod, before she takes her side next to you on the wall, the four of you leaning against the wallpaper. sukuna slithers his hand into yours, offering you a smile that you don’t return, before focusing back on the four of them in the living room. 

it annoyed you – that you didn’t have enough time to really consider what the best course of action would be. not reacting, you suppose you could understand the appeal. of showing him that you were above him, that he didn’t even warrant a response. 

but deep down, you wondered if that would bother you the day after next. if you would be standing in the shower, rinsing the soap out of your hair, and somehow come up with the right thing to say, that would perfectly encapsulate whatever it was that you were feeling. 

though you suppose that’s easier said than done. you can barely put words to whatever it is that’s forming in your chest. 

you watch as he talks to sukuna’s old basketball coach. so loudly animated as he chats – about how the property values are better two towns over and how the school district is better for the girls. you wonder if the coach thinks it’s offensive. you wonder if he ever considered that you and sammy needed to switch to a better school too. 

and it happens in a split second – your dad catching the sight of the four of you – before lifting off the couch and closing the distance between you. yuuji shoots you a weary glance as he gives the four of you a bright smile, before clearing his throat. 

you catch a slight whiff of the lemon smell as he walks up, though the lingering scent of smoke you remember gone all together. 

“sukuna. is that you?” 

you look over at sukuna, watching as he swallows hard, before clenching his jaw. 

“yes.” 

you watch as he frowns, before pressing one of his hands to his chest. 

“i’m so sorry for your loss, kid.” he states. 

“sure. thanks.” sukuna responds, rather stiffly. 

you can tell that your dad finds the situation uncomfortable – being treated so blandly by the kid he watched grow up, a kid that he knows could surely be more expressive than that – as his eyes flicker over to you and then back to sukuna. 

“your dad told me you studied abroad in europe. is this a pretty girlfriend you brought back?” 

you bite down so hard on your cheek that all you taste is metallic blood pouring out of the side of your mouth. the implication makes all of you seethe. 

that he still talked to people in town. that sukuna’s dad had known his whereabouts, probably for years. and worst of all, that he didn’t recognize you. 

“what?” sukuna hisses. 

your dad turns over to you, eyes bright, as he holds his hand out. you can feel a sensational burning in the back of your eyes. 

“he always used to brag about how his son was studying with the greats. i’m mr. l/n. i’ve known sukuna since he was little.” he states, holding his hand out. 

you swallow down the lump of bile, before extending your hand out to him, unsettled by the freezing cold feeling. 

that was in no way what mr. itadori said. and he didn't know sukuna, only briefly, when he was little, before he ran away. and you know exactly who he is – far too well. 

“nice to meet you.” you mumble. 

“take care of this one, okay? he’s a tough one, but we all need a little love sometimes.” he jokes, lightly tapping sukuna on the shoulder. 

you watch as he gives sukuna a lingering smile, before shuffling over two steps to where sammy is. sukuna places his hands on your shoulders, his eyes boring into yours – like he’s trying to beckon for your attention – as you watch the two of them. 

“hi sammy girl.” he whispers. 

you watch as sammy’s eyes water. sukuna watches as you clench your jaw. 

“hi dad.” she whispers. 

so much for not reacting. 

you wonder if you would have broken just as fast if he recognized you. though you suppose you’ll never know, because he didn’t. 

it’s a long list of things you’ll never know. the questions that bother you at night – the ones that expose that deep rooted rot that festered in your brain –  seem to come to the surface for the first time, in broad daylight. 

when did he fall out of love with your mom? when was sukuna going to fall out of love with you? why does he have such a distaste for you? if you were more polite like sammy, would he have stayed? if you screamed a little louder, would the begging have worked? 

“i wanted to tell you something.” 

you watch as he slings his hand around sammy’s shoulder, squeezing hard, before pointing to the two little girls that are seated on the couch, the two of which were making a mess of mrs. itadori’s coaster set. you wonder what she’d think fo all of this, if she wasn’t so preoccupied. 

“those are my girls. claire and molly.” 

you watch as sammy scrunches up her nose, her fists clenched into little balls at her side. 

“molly was born a year ago. she’s a little shy, but she loves music. but claire, claire’s the exact opposite. headstrong, strong-willed. exactly how a big sister should be.” 

“so?” sammy asks, her voice dripping with attitude. 

he shakes his head. 

“what i mean is that my girl claire reminds me of you. my first girl. so much so, that…well. claire and molly are real special to me. but you, my sammy girl, are always going to be the person who made me a father. that’s why i made claire’s name claire samantha.” 

you watch the tears spill from sammy’s eyes, the most bitter contempt in her eyes, as she turns to him, wiping away the stray. 

the questions return. what festers in someone to breed such cruelty? what horrors could you and sammy had exacted in your past life to deserve it? how much pressure does it take before something cracks? 

would sammy ever get over the fact that she had basically, for all intents and purposes, been replaced? which one is worse – not warranting recognition or just enough to be traded out for the shinier new model? 

“thanks dad. that’s real kind of you.” she mutters, crossing her hands over her chest before leaning back against the wall. 

you watch as his face falls, albeit halfheartedly – the clear inclination that he didn’t really mind that the statement didn’t land as he intended – before he turns back to the three of you and gives you an awkward smile. 

“family stuff.” he mutters. 

he disgusts you.

“well, i’ll take my leave. molly’s about to start fussing. i’m very sorry for your loss again, boys.” 

you watch as he walks off, retreating back to the couch and picking up claire – claire samantha – before you feel sukuna’s lips on your temple, his hands rubbing circles into your side. yuuji’s at sammy’s side, offering her his pocket square which she takes. 

“oh shit.” sammy mutters. 

“what?” you ask. 

“he’s going to the patio, where mom is.” 

you clear your throat, turning on your heel to move, before sammy reaches for your elbow. 

“it’s better if you stay here. you don’t want to make things worse when he realizes it’s actually you.” sammy responds, before walking off towards the direction of the room. 

sukuna watches as you step back, cursing the fact that sammy, for the most part, always seemed to have a horrible way with words, as he reaches for your hand. 

he knows what she meant. that whatever reaction your mom was going to warrant would get infinitely worse when she realized that your own father wasn’t able to recognize you at first glance. 

but she didn’t need to say it like that, sinking words placing the blame on you. 

“she didn’t mean it like that.” yuuji states. 

sukuna watches as you look over at yuuji, face blank, as you nod. he can see that you’re picking at the scab from the shot glass a few days prior on your hand, but you sidestep too fast before he stick his hand in between yours and make you stop. 

“i know.” you respond. 

it stings. 

“i’m just going to take a minute. i’ll be back.” you respond. 

you drag your feet as fast as they can take you to sukuna’s room, before shutting the door behind you, quick and fast breaths heaving out of your chest as your vision blurs. sukuna’s voice is quiet, muffled by the wood. 

“hey. i’m on the other side when you’re ready for me, okay pretty girl?” 

--

you sit in sukuna’s room for two hours, watching the sun sink down into the horizon from his window, watching as people trail in and out of the front door from below. it’s a pretty sunset – a vibrant mix of purple, blue, and pink – with the clouds swirling beneath. 

if sukuna’s dad was a different type of guy, you’d almost think it was a sign from him. that sweet solace that people felt – seeing their loved ones in the beauty of nature. 

though, you’d figure he’d be more of a hurricane or a tornado, wrecking havoc to everything he touched, as opposed to a pretty sunet that shed light. 

sitting at the windowsill is the first time you realize that from sukuna’s vantage point, he’s always had a perfect view of your bedroom window. it’s not exactly level, so you assume that he was probably never able to see much, except for if your light was on or off and if your curtains were pulled. 

you wonder how often he stared at it. 

you find one of his sukuna’s old hoodies and pull it over your dress, before climbing into his sheets and pressing your face into his pillow. it smells faintly of his shampoo, the smell so sweetly comforting, as you feel your eyes swell up, the choking feeling in your throat unbearable. 

the sounds that leave you are embarrassing, but luckily, you’re the only one who can hear them. 

[sammy]: mai came to get me. let’s talk tomorrow okay? 

the typing bubble appears, before disappearing. and after a few minutes, a second text followers. 

[sammy]: i love you. 

you wonder if that complicated, infected part of your brain that seemed to always cultivate some type of disgust for sammy, even when nothing really happened, was a part that you got from your dad. 

you’re almost positive that it is. and it bothers you that it somehow feels like it’s something so fundamental, almost biological, that she’ll always rub salt into a wound that you can’t even heal. 

you turn your phone off instead. 

--

“are you okay? your mom mentioned that you went upstairs pretty abruptly, said you needed a minute.” 

sukuna looks up to find your mom standing there, two ice cold bottles of water in her hands, before she plops down on the carpet next to him, hiking her knees to her chest. the usual picture of perfect hair is astray, the front stands pulled out, and sukuna absentmindedly wonders if you get your hair pulling habit from her. 

he doesn’t respond. only because what he said was a lie. 

not entirely at least. it was true that he needed a minute, it was just an obstruction of truth that he really needed to take that minute for you. 

sukuna notes that she doesn’t mind the silence that much – not only because it’s something that she was well versed in, the mere fact that sukuna didn’t really like to talk when it came to things like this – and instead changes the subject. 

“has she come out yet?” she asks. 

“no. did yuuji tell you what happened?” sukuna responds. 

she smiles, leaning her head back against the rungs of the stairs. 

“you missed quite a show downstairs.” 

“what?” 

she laughs, before reaching up to mess with the ends of the strand closest to her ear. 

“he walked out onto the patio with his wife, cindy he said her name was, because he wanted to offer his condolences. your mom responded by slapping him across the face.” 

sukuna wishes he was there to see it. or do it himself. 

“he was about to start yelling but that’s when sammy came out. i got the gist of what happened before, because sammy basically dragged him out on his ear, giving him a choice set of words about how he can’t gives his new daughter the same names as his old ones, and that he wasn’t her father, no matter how much he deluded himself into thinking that he was.” 

sukuna watches as she pauses, taking a shaky breath. 

“he told sammy that he wouldn’t really want to be their father anyways, which is why he left, and yuuji punched him in the face.” 

sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“i really did miss a show, didn’t i?” he mutters. 

“nothing we aren’t used to. i’d think hell froze over if there wasn’t some type of drama at this thing. though, i’d expect violent dramatics from you, not yuuji.” 

sukuna shakes his head. 

“he came up and talked to all of us before you. he didn’t even recognize y/n, he…he thought she was some girlfriend i brought home from studying abroad. and i’d almost understand it – she was really little when she left – but there’s no excuse. she looks the exact same.” sukuna offers. 

sukuna looks over, seeing the same bridge of your nose mirrored in her face, before looking back at the faded paint chipping off the wood of his bedroom door. he wished that he had yuuji’s horrible habits of hoarding snacks in his room, just so that you weren’t sitting in there crying.  

“do you have the key?” 

“what?” 

“the key to the door.” she states. 

sukuna bites at his lip. 

“i’m not going to open it. or give it to you. she’ll come out when she’s ready for me.” sukuna mutters. 

he watches as she laughs, full bellied and warm, before reaching forward and tangling the matted mess of his hair off of his forehead. 

“have i ever been one to force you to do anything?” 

sukuna sighs, slumping against the wall, before shaking his head. 

he had heard the sentiment before, the first time he carried his tired and bleeding knees to the porch, after being kicked out of his house for the first time. 

he nearly beat his knuckles bloody from knocking on the door loud enough before she came down, tired and weary eyes that were instantly snapped awake at his crying. and he can’t exactly remember what it was that he said, though he assumes that it wasn’t short of rudeness. 

when he begged to stay. and when she let him in without a second glance, he said it quietly.

“you can’t force me to tell you what happened.” 

and the response was always the same – the seventh, eight, and ninth time – before he finally got a understood. 

have i ever been one to force you to do anything? 

“do me a favor, sukuna.” she states. 

“okay.” 

“let me take care of your mom.” 

sukuna looks over at her, taken aback by the sentiment. he was half expecting the half hearted lecture that sammy gave him months prior, about being careful and gentle with her sister, and was expecting a tougher version of that to come from what he knew was a very opinionated and defensive woman. 

“what?” 

“the worst part is over. i appreciate you picking up slack with me where you could and i’m sorry i couldn’t help more.” 

sukuna shakes his head. 

“she was basically debilitated. you had to stay with her.” he offers. 

“and you sicked my daughter on your brother. but his boyfriend has got him for the rest and i’ll be with your mom for the foreseeable future, like i always have been.” 

“i don’t think –” 

“you’re leaving here tonight. and you’re taking my daughter with you.” she states. 

sukuna shrugs. 

“i can’t just leave her. she’s my mom and…and she’s been so fucking fragile for the past few days. you saw how she acted when –” 

“and you’re her son. that’s not your job.” 

she pauses. 

“you step back and take care of my daughter. and maybe more importantly, let my daughter take care of you.” she whispers, raking her fingers through his hair again. 

sukuna feels a shiver down his spine, before shaking his head. he can’t just leave. 

“no.” 

“sukuna.” 

he shakes his head again, this time more fervently. 

he can’t just leave. he can’t just pawn his own mother off to her and his brother to megumi and walk away. 

“you know that godawful, shitty dining table downstairs that your dad picked out? the one that we gave to goodwill when he left for his trip to new york?” 

“yeah.” 

he remembered the fight that followed after when he realized it was gone. and sometimes, he wondered why his mom would pick a fight over something so trivial as a table. 

“it was really heavy. seeing it every day irritated her to no end – that this was her house and her space and that he had taken over it another time. it pissed your mom off so much that every night, after they fought, she’d try to push it out of that damn room on her own. ” 

sukuna snorts. 

“i remember that.” 

she smiles. 

“i remember it too. watching her try to push it out of that room on her own, barely making a dent in moving it the merest inch. i think sammy even took a picture of it with that shitty disposable camera i bought her.” 

sukuna rubs his palms together. 

“okay.”

“i ended up helping her. carried one side and we were able to move it a few more inches. it didn’t really do much, so i got that piece of shit down the street, to help us too. and the old guy who used to live next door, the handyman. your dad was on a three day trip and it took five of us to push that god forsaken table out of the house.” 

sukuna feels her pull him closer, wrapping him in a hug. it makes his chest pang, eerily similar to the feeling of being sixteen and sitting on the fact that he was going to leave without saying goodbye. 

“my point is that there’s just some things you can’t carry alone, son.” 

sukuna feels his throat dry. his eyes water, as he understands – the embarrassing and pitiful question spilling out as a byproduct. 

“what if it’s too heavy for her? what…what if i can’t hold her up?” he asks, shaking his head as his voice cracks. 

what if sukuna breaks his lifeline? an even worse fate than you dying – being the one responsible for killing you. 

she smiles, before gesturing to her left, where sukuna sees yuuji standing. 

“you’re more than capable, sukuna. you always have been. and there’s always an extra set of hands to help you lift.” 

the thought comes an hour later. 

maybe his mom did get to meet the love of her life. and maybe it just wasn’t the person he was expecting it to be. 

the second one that follows makes even more sense. 

of course the love was always going to be there between you and him. it was destined before you even got here. genetic even. 

--

you make it back home around two in the morning, to three plastic wrapped plates of dinner and megumi asleep on your couch. 

it feels a little bit like intruding, but the two of you can’t help but stare as yuuji lightly nudges megumi to wake up, the latter of whom literally bolts up at the sight of him, arms quick on his face before pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

you look over at sukuna, gesturing for him to turn around with you, as sukuna unboxes the closest package – the replacement of the broken mug from your birthday – as you hear the two of them retreat, a quiet goodnight whispered to the pair of you. 

“which mug do you want?” he asks. 

“we can just share.”

there’s a ghost of a smile on his face as he wraps his hands around your wrists, his touch warm as he pulls you forward, tucking you straight into his arms and resting his chin against the top of your head. 

and you’re not sure when it starts, but it’s not long before he’s quietly weeping, his frame shaking under you as you bury yourself closer to him, his heart pounding under your ear as you run your hands up and down his arms, quietly whispering into his ears. 

he doesn’t stop. he makes no inclination of stopping and it sends a shiver down your spine. 

you pull back, cupping his flushed pink cheeks, and wiping away the wetness from his eyelashes before locking your fingers together behind his neck. 

“you took my jacket.” he whispers, voice strained. 

“it was cold in your room.” you respond. 

he nods, before leaning his forehead against yours, quietly trying to steady his breaths in pace with yours, before he abruptly pulls away, and leans against the granite. 

“what’s wrong?” you ask. 

he gestures his head to the left, where yuuji is standing, before quickly wiping the wetness from his face and pouring the warm milk into the mug. you give him a nod before retreating over to where yuuji is standing, his eyes glued to sukuna. 

“yuuji?” 

yuuji looks over at you, shaking his head. 

“sorry. i wanted to take a shower. do you –” 

“i’ll get you a towel, yuu.” 

yuuji watches as you retreat, socks sliding on the tile, as he runs his hand through his hair, a deeply sweltering hot regret in his chest. 

he had you pegged all wrong. both of you, written off the second he found out about it. 

yuuji had the tiniest glimpse of it the other day. the way you so freely ranted to sukuna, watching as he quietly attended to you by braiding your hair to stop you from pulling at it, really – exuding a quiet comfort he didn’t even know he possessed. 

but this was worse. because while you were being exactly who he knew you to be – maybe just shocked that you were able to do it with someone else – what he just saw in the short amount of time – sukuna freely crying, or more importantly, openly humbling himself to let someone in to help him crawl out – it was foreign. 

unheard of. yuuji was almost positive that sukuna hadn’t even done it before, being so vulnerable with someone. 

and he had been giving him a hard time for it

“here’s your towel.” 

yuuji grabs your hand as you hand it over to him, squeezing hard as he looks up at you, teary eyed. 

“thank you.”

for loving my brother. 

“of course. get some rest.” you respond, giving him a smile as you watch him retreat back to the room. 

sukuna’s crying has ceased when you make your way back to the kitchen. there’s a steaming cup of hot chocolate with a godawful amount of marshmallows and whipped cream, that he passes over to you for the first sip. 

“i’m back.” you respond. 

he nods, as he place the cup in your hand hand. and it’s a searing warmth in your cheeks as sukuna lifts his hand, wiping the whipped cream residue from the top of your lip. 

“real cute.” he responds, before licking the excess off his own fingers. 

you shrug. 

“i try.” 

he smiles, taking the mug from you. 

you’re confused by what happens next – because it looks like he’s going to say something, even going as far as opening his mouth to start talking, before he clamps it shut, with something steaming behind his eyes that you can’t really understand. 

and he does it a few times.

“are you okay?” 

“yeah. yeah, i just…was trying to figure out how to talk.” 

“how to talk?” you ask. 

“you know. about all the stuff.” 

you hum in response, before looping your arm around his torso, watching the marshmallows slowly dampen under the warm liquid, the smallest amount of steam still leaving the glass. 

“it’s probably a lot.” you murmur. 

“you have no idea.” 

“how about you pick one thing? and we’ll do one thing at a time.” 

sukuna nods, heaving a deep sigh, before tangling his free hand into your hair. 

“my dad was a piece of shit.” 

one of the marshmallows sinks down into the cup, the curved waves of the whipped cream disintegrating with it. 

“i mean…my dad was a piece of shit. he died a piece of shit and now he won’t ever be anything else.” 

you nod. 

“do you…do you know those lifetime shows? where people go on the news and talk about how…how different things changed their lives? like families getting out of horrible financial situations and being happy or people finally getting time to put the work in to better themselves?” 

“yeah.” 

“i had this really, really crappy thought that i held on to when i was a kid. that some day, that prick would just wake up, and realize what really mattered. that he’d put in the work, that i’d watch my mom get what she deserved, and…and he’d come to my wedding.” he murmurs. 

sukuna shakes his head, before clenching his jaw. 

“knowing him, the last thing he probably said about you was shitty. and not because he was some vile, sick asshole filled with hatred for you – but hatred for me. for yuuji. for the fact that you were fine with yuuji just as he was. liked me just as i am.” 

the steam from the mug is gone. 

“that stupid asshole died just as he was. a homophobic, misogynistic prick. he won’t ever change.” 

you lean your head against his shoulder. 

“still hurts, doesn’t it?” you ask. 

sukuna nods. 

and thanks his lucky stars that you had that in you, to parse out what he really meant. that his dad died just as he was and now sukuna knows that whatever it was he lost out on is something he won’t ever be able to get back. 

grief for what was never going to be. 

“more than you know.” he responds. 

sukuna pauses. 

“what do you think about it?” he asks. 

you look down at the mug. 

“that it’s his loss.” 

“what?” 

“by some turn of fate, your dad was very undeservingly blessed with two very loving children. it’s his loss that he’s died without even getting to feel even an inch of that. and i get it, that on paper, his legacy, his career – it’s seemed so worthwhile to people at your house. that even though he died young, he lived a very full life.” 

you push the mug over to him. 

“to me, it always seemed like he was chasing something. a better title at work, a bigger party he could throw to show off, anything that made him feel like he was larger than life. and i feel sorry for him. he’s had two boys that give the word love meaning under his roof for all these years and it’s embarrassing for him that he never got to feel it.” 

you shrug. 

“you won’t ever get to have the dad you wanted. but he won’t ever get to reap the benefits, the good love, of what he already had.” 

sukuna leans forward, gentle hands on your cheeks, before locking his lips with yours, the kiss mixed in with his quiet tears. 

the best kind of kiss he could give you – affectionate. devoted. and bare. you felt like the smallest parts of him were in the palm of your hand, to cherish and preserve. 

“your turn.” he whispers. 

you snort. 

“do you have short term memory loss? i just told you what i thought.” 

sukuna shakes his head, wiping the wetness on the back of his hand, before clearing his throat. 

“i gave you three hours in that room. it’s your turn.” 

you elbow him in the side, before lifting the mug with your hands. 

“i gave you a week.” 

“you’ve always been more patient than me. i nearly broke the door down.” 

you roll your eyes. 

“i know you have a key.” 

“and i’d never use it.” sukuna affirms. 

you smile, seeping in the warmth of the ceramic mug, as you look down at the flowery print, a mottled mess of liquid swimming from everything you had mixed in the cup.

“some part of me thinks that i’m rotten.” 

sukuna watches as you set the mug down, reaching for the ends of your hair as you twirl them in your fingers. 

“what?” 

you sigh, warm tears in your eyes. 

“i always thought that there was something wrong with me. there was always a rotten part of me, deep down, and everything i was doing was to keep it from getting out. like…like an infection or something.” 

“okay.” sukuna whispers, his tone in his voice beckoning for you to continue. 

“he’s vile. he’s vile for showing up to your dad’s funeral. for not even saying a word to yuuji when he was there the day he was born, for trying to sweet talk on your behalf like he knows you or something. having a new family, two new girls, not even sparing a second glance to what came before.” 

you pause. 

“and he’s my dad. he’s vile and sometimes i feel like he’s…he’s in my head. that some part of him is always going to be intertwined with me and deep down, running through my blood, and that’s why i won’t ever win.” 

sukuna reaches forward, cupping your warm cheeks in the palm of his hands. and you look up at him, warm brown hazel eyes so washed in concern for you, and it makes your chest hurt. 

“i look at you and all i can think about is that one day, it’ll be the last time you’ll look at me like that. because you’ll leave. you’ll realize that it’s just lipstick on a pig, or…or too much and you’ll take your leave for something better.” 

sukuna wishes that he was the one who got to punch him instead of yuuji. 

“what do you think?” you ask. 

sukuna drops his hold, lifting your hands against his lips and pressing a kiss against your knuckles. 

“that i wish i punched him instead.” he states. 

“what? someone punched him?” 

sukuna smiles. 

“my mom slapped him. and yuuji punched him. everyone got to have their cake except for me.” 

you snort. 

“i wish it was me. because i think he’s sick in the head.” 

typical. sukuna was never one to really mince his words. 

“i think it’s absolutely disgusting that he left without a trace and that the one person he talked to when he left was my dad – though i suppose that’s fitting.”

sukuna pauses. 

“it’s been criminal to watch your mom suffer when she’s one of the first people who gave me a lifeline…and when she brought my second lifeline into this world.” 

you smile. 

“i think any bit of harshness or judgment i’ve passed on sammy is unfair, because i think i’d be immeasurably cruel at times too if the one person who was required to love me felt that i was special enough to deserve a replacement, but not enough to be the one who was actually loved.” 

you sigh.. 

“and i think it’s batshit insane that he was unable to recognize you when most of the time, you’re the only person in the room with me. it’s entirely unbelievable to me that the one person he gave no recognition to is probably the only person who would ever deserve it.” 

sukuna looks down at you and frowns.

“you’re a considerate daughter, a compassionate sister – maybe even when you shouldn’t be – and the warmest friend that my brother has ever had.” 

sukuna leans forward, pressing a wet kiss to your forehead. 

“you’re a beautiful girlfriend, so painfully kind-hearted towards me that i’m half convinced you’re god with the way you’re able to fix everything with just your hands. you’re everything good and every part of you is worth acknowledging and appreciating. it’s humiliating for your dad that he’s part of the reason you’re here – and that he won’t ever be able to realize that his greatest accomplishment is you.” 

you lean forward, tucking yourself into his neck, and it makes sukuna shiver – the cold tears running down his neck as you quietly sob, your voice muffled against the fabric of his jacket. 

“you think i’m god?” you sniffle. 

sukuna rolls his eyes, unable to contain his smile. 

“of course that’s what you take away from it.” 

you lean back, looking up at him and the smile on his face. and you commit it to memory – the laugh, the love in the silence, and how it persists in the pain. 

“people worship gods.” you clarify. 

“and i worship you.” 

you curl your nose in disgust. 

“ew, sukuna.” 

“you’re not saying ew when i’m doing it. it sounds a lot more like –” 

you wrap your hand over his mouth, before shushing him. 

“your brother is in the next room over.” 

“he’s always such a thorn in my side.” sukuna mutters, earning you a laugh from him. 

the two of you retreat after the fact. you wash sukuna’s hair in the shower. he insists on doing your skincare for you. and the sun rises on the two of you the next day.

--

an: LOL. ok I write dream girl now I just wanted to get that out of me.

edit: someone left an ??? upset? or like...idk the word for it comment on ao3 about the fact that it's kind of toxic that sukuna calls her god at the end. pls know that it's JUST a metaphor and he's just trying to compare her to something that's really important and being hyperbolic 💌

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[moneymartin]

kate hcs? like what u did w nika plsss

・❥・- gf!kate hcs

warnings: harddd smut under the divider at the end and suggestive content :p

afab!r

a/n: i genuinely love doing hcs more than writing full on fics cause my lord i cannot write a whole story without going off track and ruining the entire thing… got carried away like always. also this is longgg overdue as well. i’ve been procrastinating everything and i feel bad for not releasing anything sooner like i promised. thank you for being patient w me lolz

i’m glad that we all agree… kate is theeee golden retriever girlfriend

i mean who wouldn’t say that

blonde masc that gives off happy vibes and literally has a tattoo that says ‘sunshine’

treats you like a real fuckin’ princess like she knows what she’s doing

okay kate lovesssss the kids

her and carson are so adorbs 💔

when someone asks her what her profession is she is not gonna say a pro hooper

shes gonna say that shes carson’s aunt 😭

def takes you over to kennedy’s house when she’s gone and makes you babysit carson w her 🥹

loves when they hold her fingers she thinks its the cutest thing in the world and you photograph the whole thing

spoils you fosho!!!!

mention one lil thing and shes buying it for you

new clothes, bags, shoes, jewelry, accessories. ANYTHING YOU WANNTTT!!!

yk how she likes tswift…

takes you to a concert for your bday if you do too

and wears that stupid cowboy hat 😒

but you guys would be matching soooo

DEFINITELY loves physical touch

hands hands handssss

they’re all over you in public like she is not afraid to show people you’re hers 😩

on your waist or hips. her fingers are always on you somehow

also does it romantically like she’ll intertwine pinkies with you and always holds your hand no matter the situation

the thumb thing is her favorite

loves pda foshooooo

i don’t think she’d be possessive but i feel like shes the jealous type

sees you w a girl at the bar or sumn and starts to FREAK!

she’ll sit next to you immediately and is touching you all over so that the girl goes away 😭

or shes burying her face into your neck and kissing your skin in front of her

WHEW!!!

everyone can disagree w me on this but i see her as lil spoon when you guys cuddle…

FIGHT ME ALL YOU WANT BUT THIS GIRL LOVEEESSSS WHEN YOU PLAY W HER HAIR WHILE SHE SLEEPS

kisses your neck or your collar while shes half asleep 😣

back rubs are her fav thing too

shes the one getting them tho cause she’s always so tense after practice and she believes that if you do it she’ll feel better already

we all know shes a passenger princess.

she probably has a car but refuses to drive it alone when you’re there cause she thinks she’ll crash it or something

lets you wear her clothes

if she was taller (most likely) she’d have you in all her shirts and stuff cause they look bigger on you

you think you shouldn’t wear anything under cause it hides everything anyways and kate agrees

in reality she just loves the easy access…

total baby when she’s drunk

and super clingy :(

arguments don’t happen often but when they do it ends real fast cause she knows how to calm you down 🥹🥹🥹

if anything though the arguments start cause its about something real stupid

teaches you how to play basketball if it isn’t your sport

can’t cook for SHIET!!!! burns eggs easily or somethin like that cause she can’t bring herself to learn

knows how to bake tho 100%

super adventurous

have you guys seen the pic of her zip lining… like she’s fearless when it comes to that stuff

hits the gym and weight room every fuckin day w you so she can build those arms 🤫

spots you when you think its too hard

KATE IS A MUNCH

ik y’all have seen that pussy eater jaw…

kisses are her thing as well

making out w you is the highlight of her night week day whatever!

initiates it all the time cause she knows you love it too

whines during it too me thinks…

when she needs you to shut up during it i firmly believe that she’ll kiss you to muffle the noises 😩

she isn’t straightforward but when she wants to she’ll make it obvious.

GROANER AND GRUNTERRRRR FOR SURE

cusses all the time

hard breather too

she’ll breathe out a bunch of words that you can barely hear cause of your own noises 💀 but you love hearing them cause you know she’s engaged

her strap game is crazy though i can tell…

feel like she’d sometimes just wear it for fun

she’ll wear it just for the looks and not to use it on you 😭😭

she doesn’t wanna have sex w you for her pleasure b/c during it, everything is about YOUUU

your pleasure >>>>> anything else

soft dom 100% but will also switch sometimes if thats what you’re feeling

especially after games like she loves having sex after cause she knows you’ll do everything for her

FUCKIN LOVES WHEN YOU RIDE HER ITS HER FAVORITE THING EVER

always grabbing your hips really tight when you do and theres always marks afterwards on them

and she likes seeing your face when you’re on top

missionary is her thing

eye contact during sex is important

to her at least

LOVES DIRTY TALKING

degrades you but only when you’re being cocky about something while she fucks the shit outta you

i don’t think she’d be aggressive but she’d be a lil rough when she’s upset

hickeys.

leaves marks EVERYWHEREEE

in the most visible spots so that people can see them when you two are in public

only happens during makeout seshes or when you guys are havin your own time tho

she so talks you through it.

always reassuring and asking if you feel good or not

“is this okay?” “does that hurt?” “it’s okay, baby. i’m right here, i promise” “take your time” lil things like that

praises you hella too

call me cringe or whatever

but she’ll call you a good girl if she has to…

when she eats you out she’s SOOO FOCUSED

quiet the wholeeee time but you can feel her getting all breathy against you

kisses your thighs after you cum so you know she’s still there 😞❤️

aftercare queen

she’s already cleaning you up and getting you a new pair of clothes or running a warm bath for the both of you 🥸

#kate martin #kate martin x reader #wcbb x you #wcbb x reader #wbb x you #wbb x reader #my works

[martinmuhl]

• rivals?

pair: kate martin x reader

warnings: cussing, just some tension (?)

summary: you and kate have been rivals since high school and kate’s finally had enough

authors note: hi hi this is my first fic!! ill definitely improve but i had so much fun writing this and if you want, i could potentially make a part two? i’m not sure how to work tumblr yet so im still figuring it out lol but leave requests and ill try to write some!! :) i hope you enjoy!

“are you fucking kidding me?” kate spits at you as you’re guarding her. well, you were guarding her before you sent her flying to the ground. as she looks up at you and her teammates rush to her side, you roll your eyes.

“what’s the matter martin? can’t handle all this?” you shot back, stealing the ball away from her as your own teammates rush to you. your team is losing by 15 and you know there probably isn’t a chance you’d come back and win, but god did you hate kate martin and her smug ass.

you and kate had history. your high schools were rivals and everyone loved the rivalry between you two, so the both of you started to despise each other. but you both could also feel a different kind of tension too.

throughout the last few years when your college teams played, everyone always went crazy for the big rivalry between you and off the court, the both of you had to play nice in interviews. but on the court tonight felt different. you wanted her to feel the hatred you had towards her, but you also knew there was an unspoken tension and always hoped things would go further. little did you know, kate felt it as well.

your team ended up losing as you predicted as you headed back to the locker room when you heard someone shout your name. “y/n! you gonna talk to me or what?” you turn around and there she is, rushing up to you. the two of you stand in the middle of the hall, glancing around to make sure nobody was around to witness the animosity between you.

“you never want to talk after we play each other. what’s there to say now? good game? congrats? see you next game?” you reply, hands on your hips.

“what’s there to say? you shoved me to the ground. you’ve never done that before no matter how much you hate me.” she shot back, growing angrier.

“i was tired of looking at your smug face, knowing you were going to beat us. knowing you were going to beat me again..” you trail off, as this is yet another loss to the hawkeyes.

“god, you really hate me don’t you? because of what? our rivalry? that’s such bullshit. we’re both good players y/n and i’m done pretending to hate you.” she says, suddenly grabbing your arm and pulling you towards her now empty locker room.

you were shocked. she was pretending this whole time? but you could feel it. when you made it inside the locker room, you turn to her, “pretending? that’s real funny martin. then what has this been for you the whole time? you like being an asshole to me for fun to get me all riled up huh?” you take a step closer to her, seething with rage. she’s acted like an ass towards you for years now? and it’s been fake this whole time?

kate takes a step closer as well, smiling. this pisses you off, but you can feel your heart hammering and a heat grow in your stomach and between your legs. “you know i’ve always liked when you call me by my last name. i’ve never told you that because i was afraid you’d stop. y/n, this rivalry between us makes me better, but it’s never made me hate you. i have to admit though, i think it’s hot you went out of your way to target me during the game tonight.”

hot? now you were aching with anger, intensity and longing. you for sure hate her in some ways, but not enough to make you not want to grab a hold of her braid, slam her against the wall and do unspeakable things to her. you don’t though. you just take a step back, stunned. “i… i don’t know what to say..” you say, those being the only words you can form.

kate strides toward you, your back against the wall now. she’s inches from your mouth when she leans down to your ear. “don’t say anything. i do like being an asshole towards you. it turns me on seeing you get so pissed at me, especially during a game.”

you’re about to push her away, thinking she’s done toying with you. how can you believe a word she says? she’s not done though as she says in a low tone, “and you know what? i can handle all this.” she nods her head, gesturing to your body. “and one day, i will.”

she backs up suddenly then, a smirk on her lips. your heart pounds, the throbbing between your legs increasing by the second.

“your bus is probably waiting for you. i’ll see you in a few weeks, y/n. make sure you save some of that hatred for me for after the game. i’ll show you just how much i can handle it.” she winks and then she’s out the door, leaving you alone in the iowa locker room.

for once in your life, you couldn’t wait to play kate and iowa again. kate martin went from your biggest enemy to your biggest need in only hours.

#kate martin #las vegas aces #iowa wbb #kate martin fic

[thebearer]

Annnnnnd how would Lip act in the situation of the devastation fic

i’ve had to think about this tbh. bc he kinda already had his own version with the unexpected pregnancy news of freddy.

but i started thinking in terms of lip’s reader leaving and taking the kids with her, and genuinely, i can’t think of a situation where that would happen and she would come back. like they’d be done.

now, with that being said, i could see lip and you getting into a fight- a huuuuugggeee fight. bigher than the one when you found out you were pregnant with amelia. this is based off of lip with best friend!reader who’s a elementary school teacher. she does pretty well, has a salary and insurance so wayyyy better than anything lip grew up with, but they’re not rich by any means. truly comfortable. lip’s working at the auto shop, still doing odd ball jobs but more full time, got promoted to a shift supervisor and got a raise. you both share a bank account together bc it makes it easier.

debby (bc it’s always debby and i’m a debby hater sorry) does something stupid. stupid enough to need bail money, stupid enough that she might get franny taken away or placed into custody elsewhere. debby calls lip, wailing and frantic for money, and lip, of course, rushes to give in.

comes to you all frantic and manic. “hey, uh, i-i need to move some money alright?”

“move some money? why?” you frown. “lip, are you- is everything alright?”

“debby got arrested.” lip mumbles. he’s known you for a while, a long while, he knows your disdain when it comes to debby and her carelessness. more so, his incessant need to always pull her out of the hole she dug herself in. “she needs money for bail.”

“woah, woah, hold on.” you stop him. “you’re- you’re not- lip, absolutely not.”

“what?” lip snaps. “absolutely not? what-“

“-lip.” you glare at him lightly. “no, we-we don’t have that kind of money right now. jude starts daycare next month, and the daycare fees are going to double-“

“-yeah because you insist on puttin’ them in that fancy ass one by your school.” lip scoffs. “couldn’t leave them with mrs. mcgee. too fuckin’ good for that.”

“yeah, i am too good to leave my babies with a lady who chain smokes and watches the price is right all day.” you glare. “i want my babies to go somewhere safe and- that’s not even the point right now. lip, no. you’re not doing it. we can’t afford it.”

“we can fucking afford it. don’t start this shit with me-“

“-lip, we might have the money for it, but that does not mean we can afford it. that’s our savings, our safety net-“

“-and this is my family. my sister.” lip gritted his teeth. “isn’t that what the safety nets for, huh? for shit like this? unexpected bad shit?”

“not for debby.” you snap, finality in your tone. “not for someone who continues to make bad decisions and not learn from them and then wants you to run and get her out of it every time. i’m sorry, lip. this time i’m not letting you do it.”

that escalates bc one, you told lip he couldn’t do something which just made him turn more stubborn, and two, he’s blinded with irrational rage.

“what about franny, huh? she’s your fuckin’ niece, you’re gonna just let her get put in the system-“

“-franny is more than welcome to stay here. i will gladly take her while debby’s figuring shit out, but you have kids you need to think of. two kid that are yours that you need to think of, lip!”

“don’t you fucking dare.” lip snarls. “don’t you use my kids against me.”

“i’m not using them against you! jesus, lip, you don’t get to just come in here and tell me what we’re doing with our money! that’s my money in there too, ok? i’m telling you right now, if you fuckin’ use my money on this, and not think about our kids, you might as well just not come home.”

lip is furious, leaves without another word, slamming the door hard behind him leaving you in the house with freddy and baby jude. you’re fuming, upset, hurt- he’s feeling the same. lip is furious, furious at you telling him what to do.

he ends up at ian’s house after coming dangerously close to going to the alibi. ian talks him down, tells him you’re right, which was not what lip wanted to hear.

“debby can wait. she’ll get out soon enough and she can figure it out.” ian rolls his eyes. “she shouldn’t have been such a fuckin’ moron.”

“what about franny then, huh? you’re gonna just let her go into the system? let cps get her until then?” lip spat furiously.

ian scoffs. “franny is with carl right now. he’s bringin’ her here tonight.”

lip burns with embarrassment, feeling petulant but still pissed. “hey, word of advice?” ian smirks. “quit bein’ a hard headed jack ass and go home and apologize to your wife before she comes to her senses and leaves your ass for good.”

and lip is still mad but it’s dwindling, a guilt replacing it instead. he just needed to calm down, to think straight. walking back to your house, he had the time to.

lip jammed his key in the door, the ridges not sliding the usual way, not clicking. so he tried again, turning the key with no luck- it didn’t budge. he pulled on the knob, twisting again and again but nothing. “stupid fuckin’ piece of shit door.” lip grumbles, knocking on the door.

he waits, huffing, knocking louder. when there was still no response, lip goes to pull out his phone, only then does he see the pink envelope with his name on it on the welcome mat.

lip opens it up to find a note:

“phillip,

since you insist on doing whatever you want without asking me or considering our family, i decided i would do the same. you can go stay with debby since you chose her over me and my kids.

ps. don’t bother with the lock, i had them changed xoxo”

he found his car keys under the envelope. lip was furious, absolutely fucking furious and sick and upset and just overwhelmed with every emotion possible. you hadn’t even given him his lighter, so he took a walk to the corner store to buy a pack of spirits and a lighter. he called you on his way back, not surprised when you didn’t pick up.

“hey, you know, i know you think you’re bein’ real fuckin’ funny but this shit isn’t funny, ok? i didn’t choose debby, i didn’t do shit, alright? so let me back in the house and let’s be adults about this.”

then another voicemail.

“alright, seriously? you’re not gonna let me in? you’re not gonna let me come say goodnight to freddy or jude? that’s fucked up. really fuckin’ fucked up.”

“you’re bitchin’ me out about not spending money, and-and you get that done? get the locks changed? how much did that cost huh? you can use money to be petty and childish but i don’t get a say in what i want to use it in?”

“ok this is ridiculous. let me in. talk to me. be a fuckin’ adult.”

“seriously? where the fuck am i supposed to sleep tonight? i know you’re fuckin’ seeing’ these- i can fuckin’ see you! just let me in!”

you don’t budge. don’t reply back, don’t answer the calls. he knows better than to bang on the door, wake jude or freddy up, and truthfully… he’s a little terrified at the moment. very scared that you’re truly done with him, that ian was right and you’d come to your senses.

so he slept in his car. in the driveway, thankful it was warm that night and he had a few spare shirts and things in the back. he waited until the next morning, when he knew you’d be up with the boys, to ring the doorbell.

his anger had vanished to fear and guilt, retreating back to you with his tail tucked between his legs, all sad eyes and gentle apologies that you deflected with anger still bubbling.

it definitely took him a while to make it up, a very long while before you actually gave him his new key. he had to make it up to you, work on his communication and his sharing especially with you.

#thebearer #bearblahs #lip gallagher x you #lip Gallagher #lip gallagher angst #lip x you #lip x reader #lip gallagher blurb #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher x teacher!reader #dad!lip gallagher x mom!reader #dad!lip gallagher #shameless fluff #shameless #shameless us #lip gallagher imagine #freddie gallagher #jude ian gallagher #lip gallagher x fem!reader #lip gallagher x female reader

[vigilskeep]

thoughts on Gregoire kinlock hold? I can't decide if my mage warden would have been silently afraid of him, and it feels like while it's not hate he doesn't like the warden? (And his 'finally you know you're place' after u refuse Duncan's offer and say you'll face the consequences is crazy)

greagoir’s an interesting one! i think it’s important to remember he is presented as “the model templar” and can in many ways be taken as a standard. from a templar perspective including his own, he can be considered “one of the good ones”, an honour-driven man running one of the supposedly better and more lenient circles (as always, yikes!) with a considerable amount of grudging respect for his first enchanter counterpart

i don’t think greagoir hates mages, it’s not that passionate, and he would certainly object to the accusation. i do think that mages, to greagoir, are largely an inconvenience in the way of him performing his duty, especially the young ones who haven’t “settled down” into circle life, or refuse to. and that frustration can reach a little more of a boiling point with irving’s favourites, who i suspect he thinks take far too many liberties, especially with the recent history of anders’ various debacles. while he isn’t sure how, during the mage origin he definitely recognises that in some way irving has outplayed him, and he would certainly have punished irving’s student to see that balance restored. (arguably, just as irving wanted to see lily punished. this is a game of lives they’ve been playing for a long time, though the stakes for irving are naturally much higher and more personal.)

Sten: "This is why we cut the tongues from mages, in Par Vollen."

Greagoir: "I will admit to agreeing with your companion. Maker knows the Qunari would not have gotten themselves into this position."

greagoir wouldn’t start cutting tongues from every mage—he is a lawful man who acts according to the chantry’s will. he also wouldn’t vindictively want to start cutting tongues from every mage—he considers himself a reasonable man doing his duty, purposeful not cruel, and that would be monstrous. but what he does think is that it would be a practical solution to the problem he faces

i think a lot about his line, “it is the innocent folk of ferelden who matter. i would lay down my life, and the life of any mage, to protect them.” i take that as a very genuine assertion of his principles. it’s also an admission that the mages, from the children to the eldest, are fundamentally not “innocent folk”, whether because they are by nature “guilty” or because they are not quite people

as the arbiter of templar “justice”, i think it makes sense for a mage warden to fear him. i also think he’s someone who a different warden might be accustomed to being around and arguing with irving all their life, almost a secondary father figure, and not have learned to truly fear him. a third warden might be grateful to him for curbing other templars’ more vindictive or sinister impulses, and a fourth might firmly believe that fear of a disciplined templar is unnecessary as long as they follow all the rules, and a fifth might be a casually rebellious kid confident in the belief that he’s powerless and their first enchanter mentor will always protect them from him, and a sixth might bitterly resent him for punished or tranquil friends, etc. etc.

#greagoir #sorry for taking a minute to answer this! busy few days

[happeehippie]

instagram. j.b.

summary: follow along with joe and his wife evie as they go through is football career.

*face claim is yasmin quintana*

series masterlist.

evie

liked by joeyb_9, lahjay10_, and 780,726 others

evie: “holding hands is like touching souls” 🤍

view all 5,729 comments…

user: how are we supposed to just live with this

user: i’m so jealous

joeyb_9: my girl. 😚

> evie: always always always.

user: do you think he knows she just posts him for attention?

> user: do you think he will ever see this comment? probably not.

user: i’m feeling extremely single right now.

lahjay10_: y’all be holding hands like crazy

> evie: we locked for life. 🤍🔒

user: wait this is actually so sweet, imagine how many pics she has of them just holding hands. she’s so down bad.

joeyb_9

liked by evie, lahjay10_ and 304,837 others

joeyb_9: Green Goblin

view all 2,681 comments…

user: Great football Joe!

user: SHIESTYYYYYY

millyg: joey tell ev to text me back.

user: green like that bank account baby

user: that’s hot

evie: 🥦🥒🍏🫛🫑🥑

> joeyb_9: you gotta calm down.

user: QB is always sharp

evie

liked by bengals, joeyb_9, and 990,864 others

evie: out here

view all 1,863 comments…

user: tell jb to pop a perc and get back out there

> evie: kind of a tactless comment my guy, he’d be out there if he was able.

user: man screwed my fantasy team

> evie: yeah forget your fantasy team, it wasn’t his fault.

user: brave woman

joeyb_9: jacket=dope

user: chefs kiss

user: go bengals!

millyg: i love to see you this happy 💗💗

joeyb_9

liked by bengals, lahjay10_, and 709,950 others

joeyb_9: Just another stage on the journey of life

view all 11,306 comments…

user: praying for you my boy

nfl: 🙏🏼

evie: keep your head up baby, i love you.

> joeyb_9: couldn’t do it without you

joemainmixon: We got you brother!

user: the “he’s back” post next season is going to go crazy

user: get better soon lover

lahjay10_: the comeback will be legendary

user: revenge tour for real next year

cjstroud: 🙏🏾

user: joey take my wrist, i don’t need it.

evie

liked by millyg, joeyb_9, and 91,736 others

evie: another gamedey in jungle. if you’re not in cincy you stink!

view all 7,728 comments…

user: still going to games??

> evie: ofc. those are my boys!

millyg: my little sweet pea

> evie: 🫛

user: my mom loves you (me too btw)

> evie: i luv ur mom. 😁💗

user: love to see you smiling

user: how is jb?

> evie: inspiring. 💗

joeyb_9: i like you.

> evie: omg thanks for sharing. i like you 2. 🤩🤪

joeyb_9

liked by lahjay10_, evie, and 852,100 others

joeyb_9: Learn to love discomfort

view all 5,793 comments…

lahjay10_: haha i just know you uncomfortable sitting like that. that’s what you mean by the caption?

> evie: lmao ur goofy

user: let’s go jb6

user: biggest qb in the league

user: happy birthday joe we love you!

evie: criss cross applesauce???

> joeyb_9: it’s called indian style. 🙄

> evie: is that what the big kids are calling it??

> user: ev is on his ass

user: it doesn’t go unnoticed you being on the sidelines for your teammates

user: are you and ev going to celebrate your special day?

> evie: we don’t skip bdays around here. even if you have a major surgery..

user: happy birthday king joe!

evie

liked by millyg, joeyb_9, and 890,110 others

evie: bits and pieces

view all 3,611 comments…

user: wishing you and joe a lovely off season and smooth recovery

> evie: 💗💗💗

user: you’ll be back killing it next season! i can’t wait

user: okay, the teddy shirt? CUTE!

> evie: one of my favs

user: always giving us a peek at jb

> user: it’s funny how ev used to be the only one that called him jb and now it’s become one of his many nicknames.

user: going to be missing you this off season.

joeyb_9: puddle pic is 10/10 cuteness

> evie: 🥹💗

joeyb_9

liked nfl, bengals, and 891,028 others

joeyb_9: Sorry for the missed time. Return of the Jedi

view all 10,112 comments…

user: i hope my gf doesn’t see this post

user: miss u

user: see you next year daddy joe

evie: joe you can’t just post this on a monday morning with no warning.

> user: ev saying what we are all thinking

> joeyb_9: oh, i don’t know the rules. i thought this was my account.

> evie: smart. ass.

user: BURROW REVENGE ARC

user: can’t wait to see you back!

evies stories

* last part for now. 😢 *

if you want me to pick this back up once the season starts, give this a big ❤️ hehehe.

#joe burrow #nfl #nfl imagine #bengals #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow insta au #joe burrow instagram

[fluentmoviequoter]

All The Reasons We Can't

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader (Lucy's roommate)

Summary: When you move in with Lucy Chen, you don't expect to fall for her ex-boyfriend.

Warnings: unspecified age gap (r is younger than Lucy), angst, fluff, spoilers for s6! (it's canon-divergent but still has spoilers)

Word Count: 2.6k+ words

A/N: If you are looking for a happy ending for Lucy and Tim, this is not the fic for you lol.😆

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Lucy!” you call, waving from your seat in the back of the restaurant.

She rushes to you and pulls you into a tight hug. “Thank you so much for coming,” she whispers into your embrace. “I needed this.”

“You’re my best friend, Lucy, I’ll always be here for you.”

Lucy nods as she releases you. You take the seat beside her rather than across from her. She’s dealing with a lot, and you know that she needs a friend right now.

“So, how long are you staying in town this time?” Lucy asks as she picks up the menu.

“Uh, about that,” you begin slowly. “I was thinking I’d just stay this time. You’re here, a lot of other things I love are here, and I just- I think it’s time to stay in LA for good.”

“You’re moving?” Lucy exclaims. “Please don’t be kidding, I can’t take that right now, girl.”

“I’m serious,” you promise her. “I’ve been looking for a new job and a place. Lucy, I want to be close to you; I need you in my life all the time, too.”

“It’s been too long,” Lucy agrees as she takes your hand. “I do have an idea though.”

You hum, inviting her to share, and her smile grows.

“Why don’t you move in with me? Tamara moved out, so I have the room. Even if it’s just temporary until you find your own space, I’d love to be roommates.”

“Are you sure? That’s a lot of change, Luce, and I don’t want to get in the way of you processing everything.”

“I’m really sure.”

“Then, yeah, I’d love that, Lucy.”

Lucy squeals, drawing the attention of an older couple sitting across from you. You wave awkwardly before they look away, then laugh with Lucy. Moving in with her sounds perfect and being right there for each other is part of why you decided to move.

“Hello,” you greet when Lucy returns from work. “Dinner is in the oven.”

“You’re the best friend ever,” Lucy sighs. “Where have you been all my life?”

“Wasting time until we met online mostly,” you answer. “How was today?”

“It was- uh, it was better. Tim and I still have a lot of work to do, mostly on ourselves. We’re going to try to be friends, though, because there’s no way either of us could ever just go back.”

“I get that. Being friends will be good for you, Lucy, even if it’s hard. Especially since you have to see him every day.”

“Yeah, it’s just still hard. Really hard sometimes, to wake up and remember he’s not there.”

You pull Lucy into a hug, which she gladly accepts. The oven timer dings, and you release her with a smile and an apology to finish preparing dinner.

“What would make it better?” you ask. “I know you’ve been thinking about it.”

“Honestly, I know I’m not ready to get out there yet, but I think seeing Tim with someone else – even just platonically – could help. He deserves it, too. For everything that he did and didn’t do, he’s a great guy, and he needs a friend or two that he can be himself with. Or does that sound selfish, like I’m trying to push him away to forget?”

“It doesn’t sound selfish at all, Lucy. You want the best for him, and if he’s trying to be friends, it seems like he wants that for you, too.”

“Yeah.” Lucy taps her fingers on the counter.

“I’ll get you a sign for the door,” you joke, trying to make her smile. “Lucy Chen, Platonic Matchmaker.”

It works, and Lucy smiles as you slide two plates onto the counter. She’s your best friend, and if she thinks Tim Bradford needs a friend (even after breaking her heart), then you trust she’s right.

“Hi,” Tim greets softly when the elevator opens.

Lucy nods once in greeting as she steps inside. “Good morning.”

Tim presses his lips together in the awkward silence. He knows he made the right choice by letting her go to get the better things she deserves, but it doesn’t make this part easier. “Big plans this weekend?”

“Not really,” Lucy replies. “My roommate is making me dinner tomorrow night and we’re just going to hang out, I think. Tamara and some other friends are coming over this weekend.”

“That’s good. You got a new roommate already?”

“I did. A friend I met a few years ago moved here, so…”

“Nice.”

“Yeah.” The door opens and Lucy steps forward. “Plus, she knows every little thing there is to know about me and you.”

Tim’s eyes widen and Lucy laughs as the elevator door closes behind her. Shaking his head, Tim smiles because Lucy looks happy again. His phone buzzes with another reminder about her cop-iversary, a term she coined to celebrate the anniversary of when she graduated to short sleeves. It’s the first year he hasn’t celebrated with her, but he’s still celebrating for her.

On the day of Lucy’s cop-iversary, you wake up early to surprise her with her favorite breakfast. When you have the food done and decorated for her big day, you realize that she should be awake by now. You walk to her bedroom door and knock lightly.

“It’s open,” Lucy calls from inside.

Gently pushing the door open, you see her finishing her hair. With the last clip in place, she sighs and looks at you. Her eyes are bloodshot, she looks tired, and there’s no sign of excitement for her big day.

“What happened?” you inquire.

“Yesterday was awful. A cop got shot, and I got roped into an undercover thing that almost blew up in my face… I’m just stressed and tired, I think. Everything’s piling on, you know?”

You extend your arms toward her, and Lucy hugs you tightly.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “What is that amazing smell?”

“That’s your cop-iversary breakfast. Go eat, I’ll tidy up in here for you.”

“I love you,” Lucy sighs. “You’re the best person, friend, roommate, human, ever.”

“Back at ya,” you reply happily. “Now go before you run out of time.”

Lucy presses her hands together in another silent thanks as she walks backward out of her room. If she hadn’t told you about the rough day yesterday, her room would have. There are some clothes spread around on the bed and floor, her desk is disorganized, and there’s an overflowing backpack shoved in the corner. Her go bag, you realize. You pick a place at the back of the room and begin gathering the loose items; it’s the least you can do for your best friend.

In the kitchen, Lucy takes a bite of food and closes her eyes in appreciation. Before she can continue eating, someone knocks on the door. As she stands, she grabs a piece of food from the edge of her plate and pops it in her mouth on the short walk to the door.

“Kojo!” she squeals.

She drops to her knees without greeting Tim, opting to welcome Kojo into the apartment rather than the man who brought him over. Lucy takes the leash from Tim and leads Kojo to the couch.

“Can I come in?” Tim asks from the hall.

“Yeah,” Lucy answers, not looking away from Kojo. “What are you two doing here?”

“Heard about yesterday,” Tim says as he closes the door. “Thought you might want some Kojo comfort.”

“Kojo comfort is my favorite.”

“Happy cop-iversary.”

You survey Lucy’s room once you’re finished. With a satisfied nod, you turn toward her door. As you open it, you realize that Lucy has company.

“Sorry,” you say softly as the man looks toward you.

You recognize Tim Bradford from Lucy’s description of him and the pictures she refuses to delete. Now that they’re friends, it’s fine, but you didn’t approve of the folder while she was lying awake every night.

“I’m just gonna…” you trail off and walk toward your room.

“No, you can stay,” Lucy says. “You live here, too. This is Tim. Kojo and I will be right back.”

Lucy stands, and Kojo follows quickly behind her. She gathers her plate from the counter before she and Kojo disappear into her room and the door closes behind them.

“Hi,” you tell Tim. You remember that Lucy never actually said your name and offer it.

“Nice to meet you. And glad to see Lucy got a good roommate,” Tim replies.

You nod and look toward her door before you drop your voice to say, “Thank you. Lucy told me how you’re trying to do everything right after the breakup. Friends and all that. Plus, she needed to see Kojo today.”

“It is quite literally the least I can do,” Tim replies.

“I disagree. You seem like a great guy, Tim, and the fact that you’re trying at all means a lot. To me, at least.”

Tim isn’t sure how to respond to that. He blames himself for so much of what has happened recently, yet as he stands here with you, that guilt and the memories fade. He just wants to know about you.

“So, you and Lucy have been friends for a while?” he asks.

“Long-distance friends. We met online and then ran into each other in person a while back. Everything just kind of fit between us.”

You’re taking up every thought in Tim’s head, he realizes. Even as you’re talking, he wants to know more, to know you. But then a small voice in him points out that you’re young. Whatever it is he’s feeling doesn’t matter; you’re younger than him, younger than Lucy, and there’s no way you’d be interested in him. The realization fails to silence the other voice that whispers about how he feels alive, like himself again.

“How are you?” you ask. “Not just like how are you, I mean. Uhm… How are you doing with everything?”

The whispering voice rises to a yell. Tim’s heart knows exactly what it wants. Back to life in his chest, Tim acknowledges its cry that he needs you. Tim Bradford has feelings for Lucy’s younger roommate.

“I’m sorry if that’s overstepping your boundaries,” you add when Tim doesn’t answer. “It’s just that Lucy had me, Tamara, plenty of people to talk to after the breakup. From what she’s told me, you may not have had that same community to help you.”

“I don’t,” Tim agrees. His heart hammers in his chest as he wishes he could come home to you and your arms, where nothing else would matter.

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugs half-heartedly and offers a small smile. You see right through them to the sadness and guilt beneath. Living with Lucy has accustomed you to touch and physical affection, and you don’t think twice before you hug him.

Your arms wrap over his shoulders, and the brief moment where you think he will pull away ends when his strong arms tighten around your waist. He drops his face to your shoulder and holds you tighter as he clings to you. You feel it, and Tim does too, as he melts in your arms and releases the baggage he’s been carrying for far too long.

“You have people now,” you whisper.

Tim nods against you and raises one arm toward your shoulder to deepen the hug before he pulls away.

“Do you have your phone?” you ask, your hand still on his arm. “I can give you my number so you can call or text any time you want.”

Tim passes you his phone and watches your eyes as you type your contact information. As you place it back in his hand, you repeat your invitation.

“Anything you need, just to talk or listen, I’m here, Tim.”

��Thank you,” Tim replies. He holds your eyes for a moment then asks, “Is Lucy going to give Kojo back?”

You tilt your head back and laugh, and Tim smiles at the sight and the melodious noise. “Nope,” you answer.

“Maybe I should take her roommate to get even,” Tim jokes.

You smile at him as you shake your head. “Take a seat, she’ll be a while. There’s plenty of food, too, so help yourself.”

Tim happily takes a seat, more than willing to pass the time with you while Lucy gets comforted by Kojo. The minutes pass quickly as you and Tim get to know each other. When Lucy’s door opens again, Kojo trots to Tim’s side and Lucy calls that she’s just getting her stuff and she’ll be ready.

“Great, I’m a chauffeur now,” Tim grumbles.

“Tim, you should come over more often,” you suggest. “Only if you’re comfortable with that, of course. I think it would be good for all of us, though.”

You pat Kojo’s head as Tim promises, “I will. And if you ever want to come to my place or meet somewhere, you have my number.”

Lucy emerges before you can answer Tim, and she hugs you tightly to thank you for the cop-iversary present. She tells Tim he’s free to go, to which he rolls his eyes but leaves anyway. You know that you’ll be texting him soon.

“You hugged Tim,” Lucy accuses after he leaves.

“What?” you ask, turning back toward her after watching Tim leave.

“I’m not mad. You’re really good for him.”

“Lucy, I promise it was not my intention to-“

“I know,” she assures, reaching for your hand. “But Tim and I are friends, he clearly likes you… If you want to try, I’m rooting for you.”

“Thanks.”

She picks up her bag and steps toward the door. “You didn’t ask how I knew you hugged him.”

“Cologne?” you guess.

“Happiness. I saw it on him too, and it’s been a very long time since it was that obvious.”

After she leaves, you unlock your phone and see that Tim has already sent you a text. With his comments and Lucy’s approval, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t pursue whatever it is that’s blooming between you.

“Thanks for the hug and the talk,” you read. You smile as you type a reply: Meet at my favorite restaurant on Friday for more?

The message says ‘delivered’ then ‘read,’ but there’s no reply. A minute passes and you lock your phone. Maybe you misread everything, and he really did just need a hug, and now he’s done. You try to shake it out of your head and begin to clean the kitchen. You’re nearly done when your phone rings.

“Hello?” you answer as you dry your hands.

“Why?” Tim asks.

“Hmm?”

“I’m older than you,” Tim points out. “And I dated your roommate and then dumped your roommate. I kept secrets and lied and nearly lost my job. There are more reasons than I can count that this wouldn’t work.”

“I know you’re older than me. And I don’t care. Tim, for all of the reasons you just told me that this- that we wouldn’t work, did you think of any reasons we would?”

Tim exhales before he admits, “No.”

“Then I’ll see you Friday, because both of our hearts already know, and for every reason that your brain tells you no, my heart is telling me yes. If yours isn’t, tell me now and we walk away.”

“Mine is too,” Tim whispers.

“Good.” You smile as you say, “Hey, can you get the early bird special, so our first date is cheaper?”

“What do you care? You’re not paying,” Tim replies, an addictive, teasing lilt in his voice.

“I’m glad you came over today, Tim. I needed that hug, too.”

“See you on Friday for more.”

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford fic #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #the rookie x reader #the rookie abc #the rookie #fem!reader #requests #hanna writes✯ #the rookie spoilers

[hitlikehammers]

Steve Harrington: The Boy Who Never Belonged Anywhere

🖤steddie🖤 — and yeah okay it does kinda start out w a little emotional whump (also please let me emphasize the TEMPORARY character death that MIGHT NOT EVEN BE REAL IN THE FIRST PLACE 👀)

To say Steve’s never felt like he belonged, like he ever really fit anywhere, would be inaccurate.

Because he’d have to know what it meant to fit somewhere at all, in order to know that he was failing at it, like, specifically.

Failure in general, though: that Steve is more than accustomed to. That is all his in fucking spades—and not for lack of trying for better. He watches the other kids at the piano recitals; he cannot perform sufficiently to escape his mother’s exasperation. He listens to his classmates, the ones from families his parents approve of, tries to learn their phrasings, their flippance, their disdain for things Steve doesn’t understand as deserving of the hate his parents show: still his father rages, still Steve weathers his disappointment as a rule. So he does try: less to fit, maybe, and more to blend. To be inoffensive. To maybe just…be forgotten. To fade into the backdrop.

Everything in his life, really, he does to this end: match them. Be like them. Be good but not too good. Don’t draw attention. Fit in, finally, if you’re lucky—someday.

Don’t aim to belong, lest you set yourself up for disappointment.

He knows enough of disappointment; he’s not interested in making any more.

So Steve swims where he stays in a lane, and he dribbles a ball in the confines of a court. Shoots it even, though he’s not always sure why it matters, but he chalks it up to the truth of ‘most things’: he doesn’t understand it because he doesn’t quite fit, and that’s probably explanation enough.

He sits at the table at lunch with the people from the families with names his parents don’t frown at. He makes his hair look like the actors in the magazines, the ones that enough people seem to like to merit a place on the cover, to earn the right to make money for a company because money is important—another thing Steve doesn’t wholly comprehend, but his father screams less when there is more money and screams a lot more when even a little bit of it is lost so Steve adds it to the list of things he’ll never understand because he doesn’t fit.

He dates, because that’s what everyone else does. It isn’t unpleasant. It’s more just a thing. He dates Nancy Wheeler because his father mentioned once that a prize hard won was a prize tripled in worth and Steve wants to do things that are worth something. Steve thinks maybe enough worth will mould him into the right shape. To fit.

He’s wrong, in the end.

But it ends up with him being confused instead, in gradual steps in the middle: he ends up being confused by wanting to protect.

He’s never really felt that urge before but it feels natural, and it feels stronger than other feelings do; than other ones have. Stronger than winning. Stronger than dating. Stronger than pleasure. Stronger than wanting.

He wonders—only briefly, but he does wonder—if this is what they mean when they talk about ‘fit’. If this is just another word for ‘belonging’. Like a…a cinnamonym. Or whatever it’s called.

It isn’t, he does ultimately realize, but it fills something in him anyway. It doesn’t make him fit everywhere, but it moulds him like Play-Doh, or silly putty, to fit…here. Maybe not perfectly. Maybe not as he’d dreamed or hoped. Maybe not like he imagined from all the stories and movies and shit. But.

It’s a kind of fit. Protecting is a type of belonging, he thinks. Yeah

It’s good. It’s a good thing.

But it really does cement the simple fact that everything in Steve’s life—whether it landed him closer or farther away from the idea of belonging in any of it, of being able maybe to live itself at all: but everything he chooses, everything he tries, everything he does and makes of himself, brings into being as proof that he’s here?

Is only ever for anything and anyone but himself.

He considers the kids as anomalies, as proof against the rule: they provide no social clout—in reality they damage his standing with the people his parents deem worth courting for opinion. They fill up Steve’s chest, though, but: it’s protection, first and foremost. The belonging of keeping safe.

Then there’s Robin, and she’s the closest he’s even known to something that could be other, something that could be new. Sometimes it feels like her cells are made of the same ill-fitting star-stuff that Steve’s cursed with but no part of Robin is a curse, Robin Buckley is only a gift and that makes it confusing, so confusing—

He still needs to protect her, above nearly all things, but the way she doesn’t merely fill his chest but comes to live inside it? That is new. And maybe Steve still doesn’t fit, or belong, but: Robin fits under his ribs, and he belongs inside hers just the same and…that might not be what anyone wanted from him. But it’s something.

And yeah, maybe circumstance chooses it for him first, but: he holds on of his own volition. It’s his own whole-ass choice to never ever let her go.

So it’s something.

Though: after—not long, but still after, long enough after that Steve knows a little what he’s looking for, the full-feeling that makes his ribs like a breastplate, that…that he protects with all that he is but maybe for the first time, also protects him. Make an armor of his chest and holds him close, makes him laugh and feel light, and see colors he didn’t know existed; makes him feel weightless like the ground’s no longer beneath his feet.

It’s this…undeniable taste of what it means to belong, and he knows that for reasons he cannot point toward or give a name to. But he knows. This is belonging.

Belonging, inside the one and only thing in Steve’s whole life that he has ever chosen for himself: the beautiful man with eyes beyond nighttime, elusive and enchanting, selling him something that might take the edge off, the sting of still failing to fit.

When he finds, over days, and then weeks, is that fit is exactly the word for how he falls into Eddie Muson’s arms, how his dick disappears between Eddie Munson’s lips, how Eddie’s slicked-up cock slides between the cleft of Steve’s ass—close, close but not yet, baby, not yet, let’s savor the journey there; this.

This is what it means to belong, with absolutely no reasons pushing him toward it, toward them; in fact maybe more reasons pull him back, even, because Eddie Munson is the opposite of the family names his parents approve of, Eddie Munson is the opposite of maybe anything that anyoneapproves of, at least among the people who care about approving at all and that’s…that’s maybe the most amazing thing Steve’s ever learned and found, this freedom, this beauty, this man and the soul of him like champagne if it were soda pop, common maybe but only on the surface, hidden from view and so so sweet, so so rich in ways that really matter but bubbling always, a constant carbonated effervescence in Steve’s heart and his lungs and his bones and his veins, it is something—

It’s one of the best and most incredible somethings Steve could possibly imagine.

And Steve chose it all for himself. Steve clings to it, savors it just like he’s asked—loves inside it, all for himself.

He thinks he wants to offer his heart to Eddie. He’s already lost it, he’s pretty sure of that, but…he thinks there’s something in giving it, in finding a tiny break in the fullness of his ribs to reach inside and cradle it like an offering.

And then the universe, or whatever makes certain that his world, his life, is shaped not-to-fit as a rule: it reminds him.

Because Eddie sees a cheerleader snapped in half. And Eddie’s on the run, but not into Steve’s arms. And Eddie’s separated from him, for no good fucking reason when his soul’s hurting, aching for in; when his heart’s ready to be offered, Steve found the crack, he’s reached in and he’s reaching out with it cupped in his hands, just, just please—

And then Eddie’s gone. Eddie’s dead. And nothing belongs. Nothing fits. Moving’s not made for here. Breathing’s anathema.

Steve’s heart falls to the ground, untended. Insignificant.

And when it’s all said and done, Steve looks at the sky, knows that’s not where the cause of any of this lies if there’s a cause to it at all, but he blinks, and he cannot cry because he’s drowning in the tears on the inside but they don’t fit here either, so all he can do at all is blink and he lets go: of the wanting. Of the trying. Of the pushing to be anything but what he is, and was always meant to be. Will never be anything other than.

I get it. I see it. This world is not for me. I will never find my place. I tried, I asked for more and I lost. I understand.

I won’t make the same mistake again.

Secretly, though, where he drowns in his tears inside the breastplate of ribs still so full even if the protection’s turned rusted, leant into decay: secretly—

He cannot let go of Eddie Munson. He may be lost, and he may be as much the provenance of soil and dust, of the creatures there begging to consume without any care or concept of all that he meant; all that he means: Eddie may be no more than bound to the same fate as the heart Steve dropped to that same dirt, let it get ground into the earth to decay with his beloved, to be there with him always the only way that’s left, but—

Steve does not fit, will never belong, yet despite everything: he cannot let go of Eddie Munson.

He can’t yet comprehend that might be for a reason, let alone a reason that might just fit.

...part 2? 🧚‍♂️

For @vthx, who requested a fusion of 'Character-Has-Powers / Changelings' and A Dustland Fairytale—The Killers at my HOBBIT-STYLE BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson @theheadlessphilosopher

divider credits here

💫 ao3 link here

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #whump #emotional whump #but only to start I swear #hurt/comfort #(eventually; again I swear) #angst #angst with a happy ending #supernatural elements #changelings #changeling children #character study #happy ending #temporary character death #(or is it even a *death*? WHO'S TO SAY) #platonic stobin #stranger things #gift fic #vthx #hitlikehammers' hobbit-birthday prompt fest #hitlikehammers v words #hitlikehammers writes

[itsnothingofinterest]

Any predictions for the next chapter, or from this wrap up in general?

I’m gonna be honest; with Shigaraki dead, who knows how many of the League with him or soon to follow, and most of Class 1A ending their arcs as a disappointing collective carbon copy of the last generation, I’m not too interested. And that may hinder my ability to predict what little we have left, let alone to any enjoyable capacity.

The only real prediction I can make is about how the wrap up will take every implication or consequence of the kids’ failure to save or change and…continue to ignore them, brush them under the rug that is this feeling of how much the ‘day has been saved’ we’re being given.

I’m talking zero mention of corruption in the hero industry, no talk about the folks heroes aren’t around to save despite inspiring complacency & dependency, nothing to make us think villains won’t be treated worse after how Twice, Machia, and Shigaraki were treated, and you better believe they won’t bring up the Singularity Doomsday.

(Or, potentially more infuriatingly if it’s done poorly*, they actually will bring up some of the League’s old talking points…most of which no one on the heroes side have ever been shown caring about and weren’t really brought up in the final arc at all…and it’s all to talk about how they’re handling it the right way tm, which we learn is super easy for them. Turns out Shoji really can solve all of quirks racism by just being super inspiring at bigots, maybe with some finger wagging at them if he’s feeling daring**; don’t know why Spinner’s mob thought they needed to riot like that. And Shoto just made a few calls, gave a speech maybe, and now heroes abusing their power and/or families is a thing of the past; sure makes the lengths Touya went to seem silly.

Ugh, I’m getting a migraine just typing that out.)

And it’ll all end with future Deku saving some kid lost in the streets like Tenko Shimura, and we’ll be asked to just pretend that means every kid like Tenko Shimura gets saved from now on…even though that’s not how his backstory or criticism of the system worked at all. Remember: ‘the day is saved, so don’t think about it too hard.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Which I expect it would be.

**Which he will not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If, after seeing me say that I don't want an ending where they do nothing but also don't want an ending where they do everything, you're wondering what ending I'd be satisfied with…I honestly couldn't tell you.

I should want an ending where they change and improve things; but after spending a sizable fraction of MHA's total length effectively fighting against change and improvement because it was villains trying to shepherd it in while the heroes were always talking about rebuilding it all back to normal to the very end (including just last chapter), I don't know how Hori could pull that off without it feeling like bad writing. And unless that writing gets bad enough for Tomura to return from dust, I don’t much care for that idea either.

#ask & reply #bnha #bnha 425 #shigaraki tomura #twice #jin bubaigawara #gigantomachia #spinner #dabi #touya todoroki #paranormal liberation front #PLF #shoto todoroki #mezo shoji #midoriya izuku #class 1a #hero society

[avonne-writes]

ohh i have a question. do u think there’s ever tension due to gale being the “strict” parent? sometimes that sort of parenting (where one has to do all the nagging) doesn’t work and can cause issues/ resentment. one parent can start to feel like they don’t always want to be the bad guy and have the other be the fun dad. especially in the angsty teenage phase; a simple “i wish dad was here!” during a fight could leave gale upset

Great question! 🩷

It's not an extreme distinction, not like in some families where one parent is only fun and the other does all the work. I think they can balance it well in the early stages, when their kids are little, and the tension spikes only when they’re teenagers. Because John leans more towards letting them learn from their own mistakes while Gale thinks some mistakes shouldn't be experienced at all. And the kids know by that time how to play John and Gale against each other, how to shift the argument to something between them from an argument against whatever the kid did or wanted to do.

I think there might be a point when Gale’s feelings get hurt and all his well-hidden fears about not being a natural with children resurface. He’s despondent for a while but John picks up on it, of course, and they talk it out. And then, well. Those kids better tone down their rebellious behaviour because this is what greets them if they come home late, for example:

John and Gale have always been a unit since the early days of their relationship, and they’re quick to align again as soon as they realize that they started diverging too far from each other.

But to be clear, I don't think Gale is overly strict, he’s just the stricter one of the two. What he’d probably be really good at is getting a depressed teen to talk about what's bothering them. His quiet presence would sooner or later get the kid talking. He’s a good listener.

To summarize, I think there would be tensions stemming from their parenting styles but they would sort them out.

#mota #buck x bucky #clegan #gale cleven #john egan #anon #kid fic hc #these are just my headcanons

[ericshoney]

Too Noisy ~ Sturniolo triplets

Warnings: noise sensory, overstimulated, noise senstive!reader, implied autistic/adhd!reader, overwhelmed, sensory processing disorder.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was supposed to be a fun day with three of your best friends. Nick, Matt and Chris wanted to spend some time with you as the four of you haven't had much time together recently. They also knew how you were struggling to regulate and how overwhelmed with work you had been.

They told you to be ready by ten, so you could spend all day together doing different stuff and you had even planned to sleep over at their place that night.

So here you were, standing outside your house waiting for the three boys to arrive. A few minutes went by and you saw the familiar car pull up.

“Hey kid!” Chris shouted from his opened window.

You waved, the shouting not bothering you too much as he wasn’t right next to you. You climbed in the back of the car next to Nick, the eldest giving you a high five.

“Where we going?” You asked as Matt started driving again.

“We thought breakfast first and then see what we feel.” Nick answered.

You nodded as Chris turned up the music. You flinched slightly at the sudden rise of noise.

“Chris turn it down a bit.” Nick said, noticing your sudden flinch.

“Sorry!” He apologised quickly, turning it down a bit.

You smiled as it got to a better level for you. The guys knew about your sensory needs and didn’t judge and did their best to help and support you.

When you arrived at Denny’s, which was the place you all agreed to eat at, you noticed a few cars but it didn’t seem busy so that made you happy.

You all headed inside and found a table at the back, you choosing to sit next to Matt. You started to look at the menu wondering what to eat, but it wasn’t hard as you always went with the same thing.

After you had all ordered, you listened to the guys joke and Chris shout about the food as Nick told him to be quiet. You smiled until you saw a family walk in with a baby. It wasn’t that you hated babies, just the noise.

You thought maybe they wouldn’t be sitting near you, but they did, right behind you. You heard the baby whine and whimper slightly and you hoped it wouldn’t get worse.

But it did.

As the four of you ate, all you could hear was the baby screaming. It made you cringe and flinch every time. The guys noticed your reaction and Chris even got up to ask if there was any for them to take the baby out, the family was very apologetic but it didn’t help.

“Hey sweetheart, come on.” Matt said, gently taking your hand and pulling you outside.

Nick and Chris paid for everything as Matt too you to the car, holding you gently as he sat in the back with you.

“Too loud.” You mumbled.

“I know, kid. It’s okay it’s quiet now.” He replied gently.

Matt rubbed your back, whispering to you as Nick and Chris came back, both being quiet in case it made you more upset.

“How about we go to Target and get loads of sweets and drinks and have a movie day?” Nick suggested.

You nodded as he got in next to you, Matt getting in the front with Chris. You curled up as it was quiet in the car.

“Sorry.” You whispered.

“No kid don’t be sorry it’s not your fault.” Chris said.

“Yeah, you can’t help it and we’re here to help you okay.” Matt replied.

“We don’t wanna deal with a screaming baby either.” Nick added making you laugh.

You smiled and knew the rest of the day would be good.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets oneshot #sturniolo triplets fanfic #sturniolo triplets x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo oneshot #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo oneshot #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #adhd!reader #overstimulated #sensory #platonic #platonic friendship #noise sensitivity #autism