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#love is love no matter what form it takes.
caitlinbueckers · 3 days
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baby daddy.
paige bueckers x reader
3.2k
like guys . I don’t even know what to say rn . this is PURE fucking filth like yas there is some exposition in the beginning and its dialogue heavy but like ✋✋ just know this is fucking porn . So sorry for anon if this isn’t up to par but the wormz took over my brain and this is all i have to show for it . Love u so much for the idea tho <3
ANYWAYZZZ !!!! you and paige buy a strap. filth ensues.
MAJOR 18+ WARNING!!!!
“babe.”
it’s deadpan, borderline exasperated as you turn your head, meeting a wildly unimpressed expression from paige that makes you snort out loud, hand coming up to cover your mouth.
in your girlfriends hand, dangling from her fingers, is a dildo of some sorts, shaped horrifically in the form of an anatomically incorrect fist, and it’s almost impossible to keep your surprised laughter from bubbling out, taking a step closer with a look of awe.
“dude, you’re kidding,”
“babe, why are we even here? like, deadass i have two hands and ten fingers, this is so extra.”
to be fair, she had a point— those two hands and ten fingers had never done you wrong in the slightest, but this was simply an act of impulse, deciding just that morning after you guys had spent the time with each others hands down each others pants, you’d declared in a sudden rush of post-nut clarity, that you simply had to see paige in a strap.
which, was met with a bit of intrigue and then, obviously, because paige bueckers is competitive in anything she can consider herself good at, couldn’t help but interrogate you in outright disbelief.
‘so, what i’m hearing is that i’m not enough?” it was said in the tone she uses when her sarcasm is over the top, and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you, slapping her arm.
‘baby, stop being so dramatic, oh my god.”
you’d kissed her to silence her delusions as to why you’d even brought it up in the first place, before explaining ever so gently that it was never a matter of what paige couldn’t do, and more so about the capabilities of what she could do, and that you promised it would be fun.
truly, she was on board after you’d told her that for some girls it was hard to use, so that, ‘if she couldn’t handle it, she could give up’ — of course paige would never back down from a challenge.
“you do have two hands, and i love them just the same. i just wanna try it, okay? is that okay?” you say it in your quiet, softest voice, and maybe you’re kinda being a brat because you know paige could never say no to you when you talk like that, or when you walk up to her, tracing a thumb against her cheek before pulling her down to peck her nose.
it’s immediate the way she chases your lips, presses a quick one to your mouth before she’s rolling her eyes, “anything for my baby, i guess.” but, she’s smiling, and that feels like more progress than before.
in the end, you guys end up picking something pretty beginner level— it’s only six inches, has a dual ended pleasure vibrator nestled in the crotch for the one wearing it and due to paige’s prompt request, it is in fact purple, which only makes you laugh at the excited shimmy she does as you both walk out, hand in hand, black, privacy sack swinging between her fingers.
“thought you were so against the idea?” you couldn’t help but tease her once you guys are in the car, music already blasting— you know all her music without really knowing it, but it’s definitely something by brent faiyaz.
“yeah,” she shrugs, “until i thought about getting to fuck you with it.” she says coyly, glancing over at you with a raised eyebrow before she’s pulling out of the lot, hand secured on your thigh.
you guys don’t really get to it that night, or the next day— instead settling for the slow, tired morning sex that you guys indulge in before her practice and then after, the languid, loving type of sex you both revel in for the evening when she’s back at the dorms.
no, for some reason, it isn’t until a week or so later that it suddenly comes up— and even then, you weren’t necessarily thinking about it too hard, not until the teams all at dinner. you, paige, KK, and aubrey all sit together, and it’s really in moments like these that you love to actually participate in conversations with the team— KK and aubrey had been one of the first to welcome you in with open arms after you and paige had begun dating, so you really felt most at ease with them, even if they could be complete idiots.
not like paige was any better.
it had started with someone making a tiktok, going around asking who they’d never let their son or daughter date— resoundingly, enough people said paige, which was both parts hilarious for you, and astounding for paige.
“bro! literally i’m like, the best girlfriend, that’s some bull.” she couldn’t help but scoff, even if she’s smiling just a little, “baby, i’m a good girlfriend, right?”
you purposely take a minute to answer, pretending to think about it until she grasps your thigh beneath the table, making you snicker as she squeezes, and suddenly, you know exactly the angle she’s playing.
“girl, i don’t trust you,“ KK snorts, making a face, “you’d probably get my kid pregnant or somethin’, like—“
KK’s words make paige snort, shrugging a bit, “shoot, i mean, no wonder they call me baby daddy.” she sticks her tongue out, entirely too immature for the setting of the restaurant, but it makes you warm all over anyway— you love her, even when she’s being childish, which is pretty much most of the time.
the conversation continues after that, and though you pay attention, laugh when it’s funny and answer when you need to, you can’t quite get that out of your head— baby daddy.
it makes you think.
it’s late by the time you guys get home, and true to paige’s fashion, the door is only shut and locked for a second before she’s behind you, pressing kisses to your neck and sliding hands up your shirt, humming quietly— “i’m a good girlfriend, yeah?”
it’s not often that paige asks for reassurance, mostly because she usually already knows, but it’s why it makes it extra special when she does.
“duh.” you whisper out, tilting your head back to grant her more access while she sneaks a hand into your jeans, forgoing the button entirely. her fingers are prodding against your clit when you let out a soft moan, your fluttering eyes only opening for half a second before they spot the black sack from across the room, your own hand gently grasping her wrist to still its movements.
“baby, why don’t we…?” your tilt your head in the direction, leaning your head sideways to try and capture her reaction.
surprisingly, she looks just as interested.
it’s comes out quietly, pressed to your temple, “get on the bed then.”
you don’t waste much time, stepping out of your jeans and your top until there’s nothing left but the black, simple thong that rests against your hips, crawling back against her purple sheets with an inquisitive look on your face while she pulled the thing from its plastic package.
“remember what you said earlier?” you say offhandedly as you watch paige’s muscles flex and tighten, looping the belt around her before she glances up at you, “which part?”
“baby daddy,” you can’t help but grin, tossing your head back against the bed, “just wanted to see how true that is.”
paige scoffs, and it’s obvious she likes that, plays into it even as she crawls onto the bed, looking down at you with a narrowed glance, “how true what is? that i could get you pregnant?”
it’s almost immediate the way your body flushes at that, the subconscious squeeze of your thighs together as you look up at her through lidded eyes, “mhm. is that bad?”
“i mean,” she’s smirking though, and her hand wraps around the strap on slowly, as if simulating it to be an extension of herself— it’s really fucking hot, “it’s sexy that you even thought about it like that,” she whispers, and you can practically see the confidence rising within her at the prospect, before her eyes flicker up at you. “wanna suck me off, ma?”
it makes something within you go haywire, and your mouth practically fills with saliva as if to prepare for it before you nod slowly, propping yourself up on your elbows before you stick your tongue out, paige’s blue orbs never leaving you for one second, before she’s sighing, hard under her breath, “fuuuck.”
she gets up on her knees, running her hands through your hair to gently guide your mouth down to the tip, her teeth teasing the bottom of her lip as you slowly slid the length into your mouth. it felt foreign, heavy on the tongue, but the texture was so lifelike, it almost felt like it was attached to paige.
“shit, baby,” she sounds out of breath as she thumbs your hair from your eyes, wanting to catch every dirty look you send up to her, mouth full and eyes watering, “god, you’re such… a slut.”
it must’ve been the strap or something, that had the endless string of dirty talk spilling from paige’s mouth, not entirely too uncommon and yet it had shifted the atmosphere completely. it felt lavacious, provocative, tantalizing even.
still, it makes the arousal pool between your legs, making you practically squeeze your thighs together again and again, chasing the feeling of some type of friction as paige pushed her hips up slightly, the tip only then touching the back of your throat and eliciting the first drop of a tear from your eye.
she notices, because she doesn’t miss a thing, and is slow as she pulls it from your mouth, eyes lingering on the string of saliva that connected your bottom lip from the tip of the strap.
she’s breathing heavy, blonde strands falling into her face, loose from the usual braid she kept her front pieces in as she grasps your jaw, “does that hurt?”
it doesn’t, but it makes you smirk that she even asks, shaking your head before you lean back now, head hitting the mattress as you open your thighs, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.
“you can make it hurt,” you suggest, and paige lets out a slow exhale, a teasing grin on her smile as she grasps it by the hilt, “you’re driving me fucking crazy, y’know that?” the words are hissed down at you, spoken between her lips, chapped from how hard she’d been breathing as she rubs the tip of the now warmed, messily lubricated length against your cunt, eyes narrowed and focused as she drags it up, then down.
“you’re so wet,” it sighs out of paige as if she doesn’t even realize that she’d said it, a whine puffing past your lips involuntarily, ready to spit some type of urgency towards her, until she pushes in, finally, and you fucking gasp.
it was unlike what you’d really ever felt before— especially having never been with men or experimenting with penetration on this degree. it’s thicker than you expect, thicker than paige’s fingers combined, and your back arches upwards off the bed, right as paige grasps your hip to keep you right in place. “shh, shh— fuck, you’re so good, baby.”
“ohhh- oh fuck, paige—“ the words come out in a mess of noises, as you fling an arm over your face to try and focus on the comforting rub of paige’s thumb, the smell of her cologne, instead of the stretching, hot pressure that’s collected between your legs.
it only takes a couple moments before it doesn’t completely hurt, but the second that it does, you can finally blink your watery eyes open, letting out a soft moan at the furrowed eyebrows on paige’s face, her own lips parted as she carefully gives a shallow thrust into you, the subsequent friction of the dull, now audible buzzing of the vibrator on the other end of the dildo against her clit and it’s obvious.
it’s in the way she grunts, tongue darting out to seek attention to her bottom lip. “s’that feel good?” she’s panting already, and it makes your stomach swirl in arousal, nodding quickly as she gives another slow, but shallow thrust that sends immediate shivers up your spine, a rush of rampant pleasure up your stomach as you let out a groan, “more?”
it doesn’t take long for paige to find a rhythm— surprising considering her dancing abilities— and once she does, you can practically sense the confidence that radiates off of her. it’s in the way she wraps an arm around your thigh to hoist your leg up, higher, higher, until your cunt is on full display, and she’s leaning atop you, pressing wet kisses to your breasts as she drags her hips into you, each push making you both shudder out a moan.
“shit, baby— so fucking— so fucking wet. wan’me to fuck a baby into you, huh?” paige always has a habit of going on these fuck-drunk tangents, ones that usually send you careening over the edge in due time, but this— it makes you mewl into her ear, the thick, heavy weight of the strap punching into you, deeper than you or paige could ever reach, and it makes your hips jerk upwards, wanting more of it, all of it.
for half a second, you hoped, by some weird anatomical technique, she could get you pregnant.
“ohhh— fuck! paige, paige— pleasepleaseplease—“ what you’re begging for, even you can’t decipher, but it’s really just to make sure that she rocks into you like that again.
and she does— again and again, drool collecting in the corner of your mouth from how long your lips have been parted, and paige looks at you, delirious and flushed as she drags her thumb over your mouth, wipes away the spit and reaches between you two.
before you can figure it out, you feel her finger tracing the outside of your stretched cunt, the wetness that’s collected there as she lets out a wanton sigh, something more high pitched than what paige usually grunts out, “stretching you s’good, baby— fucking- take it, jus’ like that— fuck, wanna fuck you stupid, baby.”
it’s almost too much. your head presses hard against the comforter as paige’s hips push flush against your own, the final stab of the length being inside of you makes your head swim, your body acting upon it’s own accord as your thighs, shaking, squeeze around paige’s hips, your stomach flexing and jumping as paige gives up whatever bit of composure or control she has left, before she’s quick to fuck into you without a single strand of resistance.
it’s hot, heady, and the sweat that collects on the surface of your skin is almost like a sense of accomplishment as her face falls into your neck, your thighs pushed impossibly high to give her the best angle, as she ruts into you. the slight curve of the dildo somehow gives a direct angle to your g-spot, and it punches a shout out of you, one that’s followed with a crying whine that even you knew was bound to get you both caught.
“fffuck— shhh- shut the fuck up—“ her mouth is on your neck in an instant, other hand quick to clamp over your mouth, but the friction against paige’s clit has her bottom lip quivering, struggling to close as each of her gravelly, breathy moans launch right into your ear, and it’s clear that she’s being greedy, grinding the strap into your cunt for the effort of chasing her own high, and it’s fucking sexy.
this deep, you can almost feel the fucking vibrator, and it reduces you into nothing— fingers twine into paige’s hair, sweaty and sticky, as she fucks into you with reckless abandon, the bed frame squeaking in protest, your cunt wet enough that you can fucking hear it, can feel it drip onto the bed below, feel it coating the sheets and paige’s thighs and you think she’s about to orgasm with how quick her breath has gotten, how shaky her hips are with each incessant thrust, like an earthquake pulsing through your body and it makes you sob, because it feels so fucking good, and paige is so deep, you can feel her everywhere.
“wanna cum inside of’you— ohmyfuck- please, wanna fuck my babies into you— iloveyou, so, fucking- so fu-ucking sexy, baby, fuck.”
it’s all gibberish really, a promise that makes you turn into a pile of mush, because you can feel your cunt tighten around it— delusionally, you imagine paige can feel it too— because even her declaration of love is enough to send you flying over the edge as your legs tighten around her hips, the vibrator nestled deep against paige’s clit until she’s coming too, and it’s a glorious thing to hear— ripping from her throat in a cacophony of throaty groans and whines that mimic yours, only deeper, grittier.
she thrusts into you, sloppy and out of control until you can feel her release on your cunt, spread against your thighs, the dull vibration now pressing hot and wet against you, so much so that it makes your body flood in aftershock, pleasure wracking through you in earnest as your body twitches and jumps, every embarrassingly high pitched noise ripping from your throat, as paige’s go muddled and unintelligible against your neck.
it’s like a cathartic release of sorts, leaving you feeling boneless and jellied in the wake as you slowly return to your senses, fucked out and exhausted as you try to experimentally move your hips, but the soreness between your legs is almost unfathomable.
“shit—“ you hiss as paige finally lifts her head, her own hand slow to guide the strap from your abused cunt, and it’s clear by, not only the tired, almost loopy smirk on her face, but the redness in her eyes, the wetness coating her lashes, that she’d enjoyed herself as much as you had— and while sex between you had always been mutual, it wasn’t often you got to see her fully release like that.
“was that good, hm? did i do okay?” she’s always quick to look for approval, her hand coming up to brush the tears from your face, to pepper a light array of kisses against your lips, chapped and puffy, as you let out a tired laugh, “fucking duh, that shit was… so hot,” you trace her blonde strands, plastered to her forehead, away from her face, “don’t think i’ve ever heard you sound like that.”
it makes her cheeks red, eyes rolling with a scoff, as she lets out a quiet laugh, already trying to play it off as cocky instead of flushed, “well- yeah, ‘cause, i was watching you take my dick.” you slap her arm weakly with a snort, wincing at her usage of words, “ew, you’re so gross.”
“and you’re so pretty,” she counters, before pressing a quick kiss to your mouth.
you both don’t really try to address the fact that there was probably no way you’d both been quiet enough to not at least alert one of the girls, but you ignore it anyway.
besides, it’s only KK that ends up putting you both in a group message the next morning, sending a string of angry emojis and a text that says, ‘bye im moving rooms’.
you both laugh, because you know she’s not, and more so, you all three know it wasn’t the first time and definitely not the last.
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applejuicebegood · 2 days
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The Softest of Jason Todd HCs
Fem!Reader A/N: Some of these were originally conceived for the lovely, talented, wonderful @midnightorchids. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FALLOW HER RIGHT NOW
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Jason fell for you slowly. It was the kinda falling that took on the form of severe distraction and confusion during his patrol time. The only spot in his second life he had crafted into hours of precise control and expectancy. He hated how, as he was clicking a mag into his handgun, his mind would flash to your smiling, blushed face. He hated how you would unintentionally make him trip and stumble over the roof-tops of Gotham. He hated how recalling the chime of your laugh made his hands sweaty under his leather gloves. He hated how he had to take off his helmet in the seclusion of an abandoned wear-house because recalling how his hand slipped in to your on your last date made his face heat up to the point where he felt like he would pass out.
Once he realised that the nervous pounding in his gut whenever your shoulders brushed was in-fact caused from a growing crush on you, he panicked. The eventual confession was awkward and stumbled, him making it clear that he needed time and room to figure it out. He took your smaller hands into his, promising that no matter what, for now he would figure it out with you at his side. Of course you agreed, squeezing his hands in confirmation.
Ya'll are soulmates, period. Very big 'he is half of my soul' energy. Your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. Your words have already been said by the other before you can string them together in your head. You share in each-others grief and rage. Five years into the relationship, Jason knew you so well (and being raised in a family of detectives) that you would never have to explain your frustration or annoyance - and on days like that he would always be ready to wrap you up in a weighted blanket, forcing a cup of raspberry tea into your cold hands and his headphones over your ears with one of his audiobooks already playing. Carrying you to your shared bed for you to fall asleep leaned up against his chest, his thick arms wrapped tightly around you.
Despite his availability of wealth and status, he keeps your date-night very low-key and personal. On his off days from Red-Hooding, both of you would have cooking nights. Where you would sway and giggle with the slow drift of music coming from the kitchen radio. You would make something hearty and filling. You wanting to see Jason sigh in the comfort of good food. You both would curl up with your steaming bowls on your couch, probably watching Tangled (at your request). It's all extremely cozy, Jason smiling into your skin as gratitude blooms in his chest for you. For having created this safe, hidden expanse of reassurance. All while the harsh Gotham wind whipped just outside your window.
This man is smitten- he worships you entirely. His is in awe of you, even as both of you grow old, his love and his care for you never relents or dwindles.
Ya'll would go to museums and art galleries and he would point at statues and paintings of goddess and queens and say 'you', under his breath. It's so horribly corny but it makes you hold his arm just a bit tighter every time.
After you both moved in together, he developed a habit of making your coffee alongside his and bringing it to you in bed in the mornings. This eventually just became your routine on weekends when you both had enough time to bask in the slow creeping of sunlight over each-others skin.
He's a romantic at heart, a part of him you had to slowly unearth under years of torment and blood. You were the one to force him out of his cave of isolation and into the reality of him deserving softness and joy. It's a dept you have assured him he doesn't need to pay back. That doesn't stop him from trying.
Giggles and smiles like a little boy if you kiss his forehead, specifically at the roots of his white streak. You think it's one of the prettiest things about him.
Unintentional scary dog when you guys are out together. He's got his hand laced with yours or floating somewhere on your hip or lower back. It's mostly due to his anxiety, constantly having his head on a swivel. It's all heightened due to the fact that he has the most precious, important individual standing next to him. Whether it's at one of his Dad's galla's or trips to the local library, he likes to have you near him.
Bitch has multiple playlists made about/for you (a lot of Noah Kahn and TV Girl)
Example:
A/N: I may be gay but I have a very special place for sappy Jason in my heart. Please send in any requests regarding our boy (or any of the bat boys or girls)- I really love writing for the people in this fandom.
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bu-blegh-ost · 2 days
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Something just occured to me. Circling through each beautiful moment in the campaign, I noticed a pattern. Gillion never initiates hugs. Every time, no matter if he is the one consoling or the one being consoled, he never is the first person to offer an embrace. And I think it says something.
When Jay wants to hug Gill, she always asks first. She opens her arms as an invitation and always gives him a clear sign that she wants to be close to him. And any time she offers, anytime Gillion gets permission, any time he feels like he is allowed one, he clings to her desperately and fully, starved for it, finding himself unable to let go too quickly, savoring it like he isn't sure when he is going to be allowed to have another.
Chip's hugs are unprompted and usually done with just as much desperation. They are completely controlled by emotion, and are a form of a language that Chip uses when love and appreciation cannot be expressed by words anymore. Chip never asks for hugs, he takes them. He needs them, so he is scared to ask like Jay does, cause asking means risking to be denied. It is safer to steal it. In contrast Jay is still asking cause she is still afraid of taking love for granted.
But they both, in the end, ask for hugs and comfort in their own ways. Gillion doesn't. He wants it, he needs it so often, but he never dares to ask for it. Cause he still treats love as a reward that he needs to earn, that he is not allowed to ask for, that can't be had, unless he does something that makes him worthy of being loved. Affection and love is a currency and Gill was taught that he needs to fight for it. That it's something he should never dare to request on his own.
How many times on their journey did he need to feel someone else's body close to his, but his lips were sealed, suffering in silence, thinking he Has not done well enough to be given the privalage of being comforted? How many aches and worries did he swallow down and burried deep inside? How many old wounds is he trying to fill with every single hug he receives, when someone else offers it to him? When he dares to take it, when he grips their clothes in an iron grip, trying to make the best out of it before it's gone? Cause who knows when someone allows him to have that again?
The only person Gill ever hugged first was Edyn, the first time in Allport. It was done with the same ferocity of a hurt child, of a little boy who Has been going through hell and his sister is his only remedy. The only person that always lets him have love for free. The only one he knows he can hug for sure. One who for so many years has been the only source of comfort.
The rest of the world is uncertain and even with Chip and Jay, Gill still strives to fulfill the unsaid cryteria of when he is worthy of their affection.
But I know that with enough reassurance and care, he will be able to ask for love himself and start treating his crew as people he can fall back on. And just so you know, the moment in which Gillion is the first one to hug Chip or Jay is going to make me cry like a little baby.
_______
Edit: more thoughts occured
Did you notice that Jay always seems to match Gill and Chip when it comes to hugging? She never asks Chip for hugs and takes them the same way Chip does, no matter if she is the one seeking or offering comfort. And the same goes with Gill. Regardless of whether she is the one in the need of comfort or she is the one comforting, she always verbally communicates a desire to hug first. Like she kinda feels that this is what Gillion needs from her to accept it.
So maybe Jay is actually always trying to search for the most effective way to get a hug, to increase her chances. She believes she has to, cause she cannot take love for granted anymore, not after Ava's death. She took her for granted and now she is gone. So now Jay struggles to freely express her own desires and instead clings to all the ways that she thinks guarantee her the affection she needs, an act of desperation in its own right. A silent plea for acceptance.
Each Captain on this ship treats each embrace as a treasure to savor and protect. It's a result of their past and their fears, but also a proof of unyielding love they have for each other. It's beautiful and one day the same love that they still dread to take, will heal them.
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wineauntie · 2 days
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quinn comforting evie while she has a tantrum. maybe her mom is just getting really frustrated and about to cry so quinn tells her to take a break and he takes over?
YOU’RE BREAKING MY HEART, BUG — Quinn Hughes x single mom!reader
universe masterlist
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summary: one tantrum + a very tired mom = a bitter recipe for disaster, luckily Quinn is there to sweeten things up.
note: this is based on the request above! I got this request a while ago and was inspired because I’ve missed these three so much <333
warnings: literally nothing major, child meltdown, overwhelm feeling on the readers part, Quinn being the best dad figure, use of y/n, nicknames like bug, pretty girl and sweetheart.
word count: 1.5k
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You didn’t know what had gotten Evie so upset. One minute she was perfectly happy watching Bluey on the TV and the next she was bawling crying, and throwing her toys across the apartment. You’d tried to calm her down before she woke Quinn from his pre-game nap, but your little demon seemed to love to scream and cry as she went on a rampage of throwing and kicking things.
You’d never seen Evie this hysterically before. She was a relatively well-behaved kid, and even now, at the age of three, she was tame and angelic...well up until the past few weeks. You supposed these were the 'terrible threes', that mothers online used to rant about.
The age where every small drop in the ocean for a grown person was a tumultuous tidal wave for the kid.
“C’mon, Evie,” you pleaded, your lip between your teeth as you begged with your child. “We don’t throw or kick in this apartment, baby, please, what’s the matter?”
Your words were met with Evie’s raging tears as she let out another shriek and flung her plastic Barbie at your head. Too distracted by her tears to react, the doll hit you smack in the middle of your face.
“Evie, enough!” You eventually snapped as she picked up another and poised it to be thrown whilst your hand cradled your nose. You never raised your voice with Evie, at least not when scolding her, but your patience was wearing thin and Evie’s tantrum paired with the lack of sleep you’d gotten last night, really was the straw that broke the camel's back. “We don’t throw things, not here, not ever.”
“No!” Evie hollered, her mouth open wide, her teeth bared like a vicious dog. The Barbie in her hand was thrown towards you but before you could reach out and stop it, someone had already grasped it out of the air and held it.
You heard jerked to the side where Quinn stood over your sitting form. His eyebrows were scrunched in worry, and his eyes shallowed by bags beneath them. Your heart sunk as tears pooled in your eyes, the guilt of waking him adding to the overwhelm you were experiencing.
“Q…I’m so sorry,” you rushed to say, the tears still lingering on your waterline, threatening to spill over. “Please, go back to bed, I’ll sort her out.”
Without a word, Quinn crouched down, his eyes on you as Evie wailed out once more. “Don’t apologise,” his warm voice soothed, cupping your face whilst his thumbs ran across the underneath of your eyes as he caught a few stray tears. “What’s the matter, pretty girl?”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with Evie,” you sniffed, leaning into Quinn’s warmth and comfort. “She just got upset and started throwing things and I can usually handle it but…she just won’t stop crying and I don't know what's wrong.”
Quinn’s heart cracked at the look of defeat plastered across your face as you spoke. His eyes glanced towards Evie, who was red in the face, with tears and snot streaked down her miserable face.
“Why don’t you go to the bathroom and grab yourself a glass of water?” Quinn calmly suggested, his thumbs caressing your cheekbones. “I’ll take care of her.”
Too tired to argue, you found yourself silently nodding as Quinn pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead.
As you left the room, Quinn scoured across the floor to sit beside Evie, who had thrown herself face down on the ground, her body trembling as he waited for her to notice his movement towards her.
The stubborn little girl refused to lift her head, prompting Quinn to raise his hand and slowly rub it up and down her back comfortingly.
"Hey, Evie," Quinn softly spoke up, his voice a gentle murmur as he tried to break through her stupor. He stroked her back, feeling the tension gradually ease from her small frame at the mere sound of his voice, yet despite her small moment of relaxation, it still shook from the power of her cries. "You're breaking my heart, Bug...it's alright, c'mon now."
Evie's sobs began to subside, replaced by fractured hiccups as she slowly lifted her head, tear-streaked cheeks glistening under the apartment lights. Her watery eyes met Quinn's gaze, and for a moment, he saw a mixture of confusion and sadness reflected in them.
"Whatever it is that's bothering you, it'll be alright," Quinn hummed, whilst his hand brushed Evie's messy hair out of her face before he reached out and gently wiped away a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb. "Can you tell me what happened?" he asked, his tone warm and reassuring.
He watched as Evie's bottom lip trembled, her mouth opening and closing as if trying to figure out what to say. Despite only being three, Evie was incredibly intelligent, Quinn believed it was all because of you and how you had raised Evie.
"Did something happen, Bug?" Quinn asked, his eyebrows furrowed as Evie held something close to her chest as she pushed herself into his lap and his awaiting hold.
Evie whimpered as her tiny hands opened to reveal the fabric of her favourite stuffed bear. "Ted broke," she mumbled between sniffles, her voice trembling with emotion.
Understanding suddenly dawned on Quinn as he realized what had triggered Evie's outburst. Ted, her beloved teddy companion, gifted to her by Luke and Jack, must have suffered some sort of mishap during her playtime, leading to her sudden meltdown.
"I see," Quinn replied softly, his heart aching for the distress written across Evie's face. He reached out and gently took the teddy from her trembling hands, examining the toy for any damage. "It looks like Ted's arm came loose," he observed, showing Evie the small tear in the fabric.
Evie's lower lip trembled as she looked at her damaged toy, fresh tears welling up in her eyes. "Fix it, Winnie," she pleaded, her voice small and vulnerable, cracking under the weight of her miserable mood. "Need Ted for my sleep!"
"Oh, Bug..." Quinn trailed off, his guilt coating his words. "I can't fix it, I can't sew." Evie's face immediately screwed up once more, flushing red as she reached the dangerous brink of another meltdown. "But I think your mom can."
"Mom fix Ted?" Evie sniffled, her bottom lip jutting outward as her widened eyes scanned his for any ounce of a lie.
"Your mom's pretty good like that," Quinn nodded, his arms hugging Evie closer to his body. "She likes to help you out, you know?... Which is why she got so upset earlier when you threw something at her. Throwing things at people, hurt them, Bug."
"I hurt mom?" Evie mumbled, sadness shrouding her features once again.
"A little bit," Quinn admitted. There was no use in sugar-coating it. Tantrums were natural for a kid of Evie's age, but you and Quinn had discussed it before and you agreed that any form of violence must be addressed if it ever arose. "Your mom is strong though, she'll be okay. But Evie, we don't throw things when we're angry. I know you got upset but we don't hurt people because of that."
"I say sorry," Evie mumbled, burying her face into Quinn's chest as he cradled her. “And no throw.”
“Good, Bug,” Quinn smiled, briefly squeezing her tighter before he met her regretful gaze. “Now how about we say sorry to Mom together?” Evie nodded slowly and bit her lip in worry.
It seemed to be perfect timing as you walked back into the living room, your body tense in anticipation. Quinn examined your refreshed face and your eyes that were no longer tinged red from tears.
“…Everything okay?” You asked tentatively, glancing between Quinn and your daughter. Evie’s head shot towards you before she burst out of Quinn’s hold and leapt towards you.
“I’m sorry!” Evie cried, hugging your legs as you looked at Quinn in shock. Quinn gave you a reassuring nod as he stood, whilst you carefully lifted Evie into your arms. “Didn’t mean hurt you!”
“Sh, sh, sh,” You soothingly tried to calm her tears and remorseful voice. “It’s alright, Evie girl, everything’s okay, I’m okay.”
Evie cuddled deep into your embrace, her arms and legs clinging to your body as Quinn pressed a soft kiss to your temple. You shut your eyes with a small smile as your daughter’s tears began to dry and as she babbled about her teddy and how she was sorry again.
You opened your eyes briefly to look at Quinn, before mouthing a quick ‘thank you’, causing him to wink at you before he retreated to the kitchen, to, no doubt, get you and Evie another glass of water each.
186 notes · View notes
writer-freak · 1 day
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Stealing his shirt | Lucifer x reader
Summary: You and Lucifer planned a day to just relax together but he had to leave spontaneously. When he came back he saw that you stole one of his shirts, and he likes seeing you in it.
Warnings: Fluff, some suggestiveness at the end, reader wears one of Lucifers shirts, but it's not explicitly described how it fits reader, Lucifer just loving you, English isn't my first language
A/n: I really noticed now how terrible I am at coming up with titles for my fics. But yeah I wanted to just write a little scenario about stealing his shirt but somehow I ended up with this. Hope you guys enjoy.
Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated and really motivate me to write more <3
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You and Lucifer had planned a rare relaxation day, just the two of you, away from everything else going on around you. Snacks were scattered on the coffee table, a mix of both your and Lucifer's favorites as you lounged comfortably on the couch.
"I must say, darling, your taste in snacks is great but I still think mine is superior." Lucifer remarked with a grin, popping a piece of candy into his mouth as he leaned back against the cushions, his arm draped around your shoulders casually.
You chuckled while leaned into Lucifer's side. "Well, I believe I have a knack for picking the best, but now I have a feeling I made a mistake."
Lucifer raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Oh, is that so? Should I be worried about my standing in your 'best picks' list?" he teased back, a smirk forming on his lips as he pretended to look concerned.
You laughed, shaking your head. "Oh, you're still in the top rankings, don't worry. But I think your pride is knocking you down a few pegs," you replied, poking fun at his ego light-heartedly.
You tried getting up, wanting to tease him a little further, but you weren't able to get far.
"Oh no, you are not leaving," Lucifer said, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you down onto his lap. You tried freeing yourself but Lucifer tightened his arms around you, a playful glint in his eyes. "Oh, trying to escape my impeccable charm already, are we?" he quipped, pretending to be offended as he held you firmly in place.
"Let me go, Lu!" you protested, laughing as he started to tickle you.
"You are not escaping me, my love," Lucifer teased, his fingers tickling along your sides until you finally tapped out. "Okay okay, I give up, you win!" you said, breathless from laughter as Lucifer grinned triumphantly.
You tried catching your breath before, you settled back down next to Lucifer. Just as he reached for the remote, his phone buzzed with an incoming call, interrupting you two.
Lucifer glanced at the screen with a slight frown. "It's probably just some mundane matter," he muttered, moving to decline the call.
Raising an eyebrow, you suggested "You should at least check Lu, it might be important."
With a reluctant sigh, Lucifer nodded and took the call, his expression shifting from annoyance to seriousness as he listened.
"I understand. I'll be there shortly," Lucifer said before ending the call. Turning to you, he offered an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry love, duty calls."
You smiled back, while trying to mask your disappointment. "It's alright, Lucifer. I know you have many responsibilities."
Lucifer leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I promise to be back as soon as possible. You can stay here in the meantime if you want?" he suggested.
You nodded, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "I'm just going to watch a movie without you," you replied.
Lucifer smiled at you before changing out of his comfortable clothes and leaving the suite.
With a sigh, you leaned your head back against Lucifer's giant couch, a bit disappointed that your boyfriend had to leave. Not knowing what to do with yourself, you thought about what you could do in the meantime to keep yourself busy. 
You wanted to take a shower later today, but since you have some time on your hands, you could just do it right now.
You didn't have a change of clothes but that didn't really bother you as you walked into Lucifer's bedroom to go into the connecting bathroom, but your eyes drifted and landed on the wardrobe.
Your curiosity was piqued, and you walked over and began browsing through his clothes. You have borrowed one of Lucifer's shirts before when you slept over, but you never really looked through all his clothing. He has a lot of ducky motive items and eventually, you choose one of the more casual shirts that he wears at home with a little duck on it.
With some new clothes, you went into the shower, relaxing and killing some time until Lucifer's back. When you got out you dried yourself off and slipped into the shirt, you couldn't help but take in its familiar scent, which comforted you as you went back to lounge in his suite. You flipped through some channels until you finally found something watchable, and then the door opened, announcing Lucifer's return.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" Lucifer's tone was playful, a smirk on his lips as he took in the sight of you wearing his shirt.
You sat up, looking over at Lucifer with a smile. "Oh, Lucifer! I didn't expect you to be back so early," you said casually, not acknowledging that you had taken one of his shirts.
Lucifer chuckled, crossing the room to stand before you. "I must say, you have excellent taste," he remarked, his gaze lingering on your new top.
You couldn't help but smile innocently at him. "It's quite comfy," you admitted, tugging at the shirt for emphasis.
"Comfy and charming," Lucifer added, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I might have to start giving you my shirts more often."
After changing into more comfortable clothes, Lucifer returned to the couch, plopping down next to you. "I think you look better in them than me I have to admit, maybe you should always wear them." he teased, his tone a bit suggestive.
You chuckled softly. "Oh, is that an invitation, Lucifer? Because I definitely wouldn't mind having a collection of your shirts," you teased back, leaning against the couch cushions with a playful expression.
Lucifer's smirk widened, his gaze lingering on you in a way that made your heart race a bit faster. "Consider this one a reward for having such impeccable taste." he purred, his voice low and seductive.
A playful glint danced in your eyes as you raised an eyebrow. "And what would I have to do to earn more of these rewards Lucifer?" you asked teasingly, with a hint of seductiveness.
Leaning in closer, Lucifer's voice dropped to a husky whisper, his breath brushing against your skin. "Oh, Wearing my clothes is a start but, there are many more ways to earn rewards, my dear." he suggested his eyes wandering up and down your body.
You couldn't deny that heat rose to your face at his words, before a smirk of your own formed. "Well then, I'll have to keep that in mind for the future," you replied, your voice a playful challenge as you just settled back down next to him. You took the remote and turned the TV back on before turning to Lucifer as nonchalantly as you could. "So what do you want to watch?" 
Lucifer also leaned back slightly, his gaze still intense as he locked eyes with you. "I'm fine with anything, you know that, my love. But I don't think I feel like watching TV at the moment," he murmured, a suggestive smile playing on his lips.
You tried playing a bit dumb, not wanting to let him win just yet. "Oh, why is that? I thought you just wanted to relax together today?" you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.
Lucifer's smirk deepened as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping. "I must admit, darling, your comments earlier have left me a bit distracted," he confessed, his gaze lingering on your lips suggestively.
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a playful challenge in your eyes. "Oh, is that so? I didn't realize I had such an effect on you," you replied a hint of mischief in your tone.
Lucifer's hand brushed against your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "You always have that effect on me, my dear. It's one of the many things I adore about you," he admitted, his voice laced with sincerity and desire.
Unable to resist any longer, you closed the distance between you, capturing his lips in a soft, lingering kiss.
When you pulled back, a content smile graced your lips. "In that case, I think I can find other ways to keep you entertained," you teased, your voice low and sultry.
Lucifer's eyes glimmered with amusement and desire. "I have no doubt about that, my love."
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satyricplotter · 3 days
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pairing: dick grayson x reader
word count: 3.2k (i think?)
warnings: rape mention (as per dick's canon)
notes: i keep thinking of applying one of my favourite manga/manhwa tropes with dick specifically, because it works so well, but i don't particularly care to put in the work of setting up that it'd take for it to land as well as it could. maybe later. as it is, i'll give you the quick rundown because i spent two days writing it lol
something ugly about you has made you undeserving of romance. you have spent your entire life puzzling out what it is and how to fix it. nothing much is special about you: the matter’s far from isolation, or becoming any particular sort of pariah. perhaps that'd be easier to explain. no. people leave you alone, your friends cherish you, your family loves you. it is not that you have not known affection, but that you have and so when you crash against the wall that horrible first time, it hurts all the more.
nothing changes after that. there is always a limit to where your interest can reach, unnamed but palpable. a line you cannot cross. it seems to you as if the entire world has reached a silent consensus during a meeting to which your attendance was not required and your input unnecessary. why would it be? this is not about you. after all, your ability to love has not become impaired. you like people. you’ve fallen in love. but who has ever loved you back?
this one facet of life has been closed off to you entirely, and you’ve been chased away from all attempts to form a romantic bond with unspoken threats of shame and implications of disgust. (a bit much of a display just for the offense of being little old you. you come to regard the matter so as you grow older and start curating some self-respect. it still stings as badly as scrubbing your skin raw under hot water, but not all the loathing is directed inward nowadays.)
regardless, you’ve learnt that you are undesirable, and nothing you can say or do will change that. you must be content with the other shapes that love can take. nothing that you want matters whatsoever.
you meet dick grayson one summer evening under exceedingly normal circumstances. you do not know about heroes or rogues, no batmans or nightwings. the person that crosses the threshold is none other than dick grayson, the handsome young man. suspicion does not cross anybody’s mind, and if it does, it comes only a good couple of thoughts after his darling smile and shapely thighs.
obviously you like him immediately. what’s not to like? he’s gorgeous.
you react to him with the tense wariness of someone hardened by years of useless crushes. trying to avoid him. trying to be normal when you invariably cannot. it’s fine. it’ll be fine.
you still crush on him.
it’s inevitable, at this point. he’s too pretty, too smart, too kind not to draw you in. every interaction comes a rush of exhilarating fear. at times, you manage to subdue yourself into normalcy, hang out with him with as much naturalness as you can muster. but then he does something particularly attractive and you’re back in square one, shoulders drawn together and so short with him he probably gets emotional whiplash. it’s as exhausting for you as it must be for him, and he still reacts to it with grace. it doesn’t help.
through your concerted efforts to be normal, or at least appear as much, you and dick become friends. not great friends, mind you, but good enough that you start hanging out on your own without any of your mutual friends present. and you only spend about three hours total pondering the meaning behind the phrasing of his texts. that’s gotta be some form of progress, right?
he sits at a little table away from the window, and beams when you arrive. coffee’s on him and conversation’s on you. you’ve got more in common than you first thought, but you go back and forth between imagining it must be fate and squashing down delusion, telling yourself you’re blowing it out of proportion.
at one point in time, a beautiful, sultry-looking woman approaches the table.
this sucks, you think, glancing away from dick’s bland mask of politeness. all of it is hopeless and it still sucks.
you and dick tense immediately, like you both know what’s coming. sure as ever, the woman smiles and asks for his number. you look away politely, sip at your drink. the proximity makes it useless to pretend you’re not eavesdropping (though it can hardly be called that when she came to your table), but you take care not to make any faces that’d give away the little storm brewing in your stomach.
you think about running off to the bathroom, get as far as shifting on your seat when dick shoots you a troubled look. the woman’s been at it for a little more than is appropriate. a minute or so more of insistence and she’ll be stretching the boundaries of her own dignity too far. you look away with pressed lips and move your hands under the table.
your alarm beeps.
“oh, shit, dude,” you gasp, hoping to land somewhere in the ballpark of realism. “It’s almost seven. we’ve got to go, or else we’re gonna miss the movie.”
dick gives the woman his apologies and swiftly runs out of the café with you hot on his heels. on the way to the movie theatre, you wanna ask the million questions running through your head—why’d he reject her? didn’t he like her? did he not think she was pretty? who is pretty for him? what’s his taste in partners? is he seeing someone?—but you know it’s a futile endeavor. what will you even get out of that? it’s clear dick didn’t enjoy the interaction either. you make small talk about something else, trying to draw his attention away from whatever conflicted feelings he’s moored in right now. just because you like him doesn’t mean you can’t be a good friend to him.
it’s a short walk. soon enough, he’s all smiles again. in the line for the popcorn stand, another two girls come up to him, this time much younger than you two. he’s nicer with them than he was before, but he rejects them all unequivocally.
“doesn’t it annoy you?” you can’t help but ask. when dick raises an elegant eyebrow, you panic and backpedal so hard you might as well have driven a truck through a storefront.
“a bit,” dick says, ignoring your rambling. you shut your mouth firmly closed when he gives you a sidelong glance, and continues, so very casually, “it’s worse when it comes from a friend rather than a stranger. so many people just try to befriend me because they’re looking for a relationship, or they want access to my body. it’s… tiring. i’m sure you can relate.”
“ah,” you say. your tongue feels numb, but you’re burning up under the weight of his gaze. “no. I don’t really get harassed like that or, um, asked out.”
“huh.” dick blinks. “really?”
“yeah,” you force out. blessedly, the attendant calls your attention. you jostle dick forward. “look, it’s our turn.”
dick orders popcorn. you get a large slushy that you’re not gonna finish. you make him pay. he complies with no question. inside the theatre, you spend all two hours and sixteen minutes of the showing in absolute silence. it is not so strange to be fixated on the movie, but you’re usually a little more chatty. under normal circumstances, you’d eagerly take the opportunity to lean closer to him, whisper something about the main character’s penchant for gummies and its relation to the degradation of the American working class. he’d glance at you and thoughtfully smile, and you’d catch a whiff of his cologne when you straightened.  for the rest of the movie, the twinkle of his eye as he forwent the film for your conversation would be all you’d think about.
such is not the case now.
you can tell when you’ve been summarily dismissed. in fact, you appreciate when people are subtle about their rejections. it’s always all the more humiliating when they feel the need to bring it out into the open, like your affections have been so blatant they must be commented on, debated.
the rest of the evening is spent convincing yourself that this is good, that this means it’ll be better for yourself going forward. you’ll be less distracted, if anything. dick’s attempts to discuss the movie with you afterwards fall flat, as the only thing you really want is to get home and stare at your ceiling.
when you’ve reached your apartment door, and are turning to enter after a hurried goodbye, dick calls your name.
“look,” he says, running a hand through his hair unsurely. “I don’t usually do this.”
oh, no. dread fills you up. he’s breaking up with you and you’re not even dating.
you swallow. “dick—”
“I like you a lot,” he interrupts. your teeth clang the way you shut up so fast. in fact, you feel a little dizzy. he continues before you can even process that first sentence. “I think you and I could be really good friends, and I’d love if we could continue seeing each other to, you know, hang out and talk. I do truly appreciate your insight. is that okay?”
you blink fast some three or four times. it must be comical, the face you’re making, because the corner of dick’s lips pulls upward despite him trying to keep a serious air.
“I thought we were already friends…?” you say, at a loss for anything else to say.
“yes!” he beams. “we are.”
“okay,” you respond, perplexed. this is so far out of left field. “um. text me when you’re home?”
“yeah.” he grins. gorgeous grin, to be sure, but why? “for sure.”
“cool.” you give him an awkward thumbs up and scurry inside.               
it is… baffling. you spend all of that night wide awake and pondering. dick must’ve misconstrued something, or either you missed a crucial step in your relationship. otherwise the end to that evening makes absolutely no sense. the only thing you can conjure up is that dick must reject a lot of people who, like he said, try to befriend him only to get with him or worse, only to fuck, and it’s not very likely most of those people stay in his life once it is clear he won’t budge on the matter. the fact that you didn’t immediately turn your back on him must’ve come to him as a pleasant surprise.
it’s sad. like, really fucking sad, actually.
that very sadness—and the memory of his handsome, bright grin—turns your outlook inside out. why do you like dick? clearly he’s got the looks and the personality, but do you really know him? what do you know of him? you make a list of things you’ve learned about him in the short time of knowing him. it’s not long.
you come to the conclusion, mortifyingly so, that you don’t, in fact, like dick grayson. that, if anything, the only thing you like is the idea of the boyfriend he could be, which is not the boyfriend that he is (you know nothing about that). it’s the social acumen inherent in bagging such a hottie, and the sparkling sexual attraction bound around it, that really prompt your crushing. it’s not dick as a person. frankly, you think, a little hysterically, could be anyone, really. didn’t even have to be dick. he was just there, the handsomest person in the room. an apt target for the voracious hunger of your heart. you’d mooned and mooned over him for ages and it turns out it wasn’t even about him.
god, you’re such an asshole.
in penance, you endeavor to actually get to know dick without the embarrassment of a crush between you. and it does, in fact, help. dick’s eager to get to know you too, now that you’ve both formally acknowledged you’re friends (such a weird practice, fresh out of kindergarten behavior, but, as you soon find out, dick is weird about plenty and not entirely well-adjusted as an adult). you go on outings together, attend one another’s events, text sporadically throughout the day. you learn which video games dick likes, you tell him which movies are your favorites. it’s fun and light and uncomplicated now that you’ve freed yourself from the constraints of romantic expectation.
not everything’s good. dick’s got bad habits, which grate on you. is it so difficult to put the stupid toilet seat down? can he not learn to chop vegetables in chunks smaller than an elephant’s baby teeth? can he, for the love of god, stop yelling at the tv during horror films?  he’s got some serious character flaws, too. you find about those a lot more slowly, but they don’t cause too much trouble.
you fight one or two times due to dick suddenly abandoning you in the middle of an outing with no regard for your safety, and his tendency to get pissy instead of saying whatever’s upsetting him upfront when he knows, you’ve warned him that you’re stupidly thoughtless about your actions at times. all those are things you wouldn’t have come to experience if you hadn’t given the man a chance to actually be a friend. it’s kind of heartening, actually, to have come so far.
sometimes your crush rears up its head in the middle of nowhere. it’s kind of hopeless by now, but you can’t help the fact that dick’s attractive. neither can he, anyway. you just watch him sometimes, the way the sun hits his eyes, lashes sweeping over his cheeks. it makes you go tongue-tied and silly, but the moment always passes. it has to pass. you struggle against it, recall every time dick has upset you or insulted you in one way or the other. some days it’s easy as buttering toast, others you can barely think around the searing heat of your desire. those are bad days for all involved.
one evening, when you’ve grown close enough you’ve begun to think about dick grayson as maybe, possibly, only-if-he-says-so-too your closest friend, he tells you about catalina.
he does it over the phone line, during your almost-nightly calls. over the months, you’ve taken up the practice of teasing him about handsome people he clearly finds attractive in a desperate bid to divert attention and train yourself for when you have to do it for real. this is not one of such cases, and as soon as you realize this, you sober up immediately.
he says it so simply. talks about it like it’s just a hazard of life. there’s a tight hardness at the edge of his voice, but other than that, he speaks like it’s normal Tuesday for him.
not so much for you.
“is it okay if I come over?” you request over the line.
for a moment, the only thing you hear is dick breathe. “yeah,” he croaks, and you’re bolting out the room immediately.
you don’t know how to react to this other than with a shaky sort of desperation. it’s been years since it happened. there’s nothing you can do about it now. there’s something big he’s leaving out, which you notice but don’t point out. a big lump forms on your throat as he speaks. dick tells you when you arrive that the woman is behind bars for an unrelated crime and the only way you stop yourself from wishing ill on her out loud is the fact he looks so politely disjointed, you know your fury will only startle him.
and you feel it so frightfully, the fury.
you love dick, you realize. beyond the fancies and the underlying attraction, you love dick as a person, as a friend. he’s one of yours now.
the evening morphs into a casual sleepover. you don’t interrogate him, and he seems torn between wanting to say more and grateful you’re not prying. you keep yourself open to the possibility, but also try to comfort him as best you can. you make dinner. you put on a movie. you talk and joke and quietly watch. he invites you on the bed with him because his couch is a nightmare to sleep in and his guest room is “unavailable”, whatever that means. you don’t even think about it, just follow.
lying together under the sheets with the lights off, the rest of your feelings bubble up to the surface.
you ask before you clasp his hands between yours and look into his shiny eyes in the darkness. you try to tell him, how this single evening and all those that came before turned over your loyalty to him. how he can come to you for anything he ever wants or needs—your ear, your care, your protection. how much you appreciate his trust and how much you wish you could make anything, everything better for him. how much he deserves it.
“I’ll never leave you now,” you vow with fierce conviction, searching his eyes for any signs of doubt. any other time you would’ve questioned this statement with the sheer weight of infinite possibilities, but not now. tonight, truth is absolute and in your hand. “they will never take me from you. I will always be on your side, by your side. i’m serious, grayson. you’re not getting rid of me.”
a glimpse of  a watery smile is the only thing you see before dick throws his arms around you and buries his face in your neck. “couldn’t dream of it,” he whispers into your hair.
you hug him back as tightly as he is, murmuring platitudes and running your fingers through his hair. he falls asleep like that, in the cradle of your arms. he feels secure enough to do so, and you feel both proud and nauseous about it considering the secret you keep.
that he’s told you this at all, that he’s trusted you with such a thing—you know how big it is. you know you can never betray him.
you consider your inherent monstrosity, that little unspeakable thing that bars your from that special kind of love. you understand, firmly, that any desire you feel will never be received eagerly and joyfully. not by him or anyone else.  in silent fury, you vow to die before you be like her, to bestow upon this man your grotesque wanting with no regard for his own desire, for the integrity of his being.
that night, you press a kiss to dick grayson’s hair and let him go forever.
.
the next morning, dick watches as you leave. you turn back one last time to wave at him from the parking lot, a bright smile and tussled hair you didn’t bother to brush. you wear out the clothes he lent you to sleep, so harried last night in your haste to come over that you’d simply forgotten to pack pajamas. he suspects you hadn’t planned to stay the night at all, but he’d been damned if he’d let you go yesterday.
you’re pretty. he’s always thought so, but this morning, you’re prettier than ever. it’s the radiance of your heart shining through.
I will always be by your side, you’d said last night. you’d meant it completely, then. dick had been dazed, overcome. he couldn’t take the brightness of your eyes, the surety of your affection. he’d buried his head in your neck and fallen asleep breathing in the smell of your shampoo. in the morning, he’d woken up with your fingers carding through his hair and the gentle warmth of your body against his.
that was nice. he wonders what he has to do to make it happen again.
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A cat proposal (f) ⋆˙⟡♡ minho is in love & wants to marry you
Handle With Care (f s) ⋆˙⟡♡ You've had a truly awful day, luckily, your adoring boyfriend Minho is there to make it better.
Lowkey (a f s) ⋆˙⟡♡ catching feelings for lee minho was inevitable from the start. falling for him is as easy as breathing, but how are you supposed to let him know how you feel when you spend more time fucking him than talking to him? OR, the only thing you're more scared of than losing minho is loving him.
Call of the Siren (s f) ⋆˙⟡♡ the effect he has on people is obvious, they’re drawn to him like he’s an oasis in a desert. then, with a small jingle of a bell that announces his arrival into your store, he attempts to ensnare you.
Cat and Mouse (a s f) ⋆˙⟡♡ your co-worker has been on your case ever since you've started your time at the company. a strange turn of events and circumstance changes all that.
horror house (a s) ⋆˙⟡♡ you're stuck in a horror house alone—your only way out is with the guy who hates your guts. halloween themed enemies to lovers with minho.
makes me dizzy (s) ⋆˙⟡♡ the best surprises come from the most unexpected sources - like having your crush corner you in a frat party after hearing you confess your deepest desires of him in the background of a video.
Love Said To Soul (a f s) ⋆˙⟡♡ When the God of Love is tasked with humiliating a beautiful mortal girl, he finds himself much vexed to discover her immune to his skills. Determined to discover the root of the problem, he takes to mortal form and embarks upon a dastardly ruse that requires his getting close to her. The God of Love thinks he knows all. The God of Love knows nothing.
Side Quest (f)
11:05 (a f)
Feline Bliss (f)
Love at your fingertips (f)
Hotel check-ins (f)
make up sex (s)
Conversations with Minho (f)
sharing a bed series; Lee Know (s)
my moon and stars (f)
Fake Texts
Flirting with bsf+roommate!LeeKnow (f)
Borrowing Minho's Cat
Random Texts with bf!Minho (f s)
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qu1cks1lversb1tch · 13 hours
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Having them as best friend's:
Multiple X Reader
Contains: Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, Charlie, Lucifer, Vox, Velvette, Rosie, Adam, Lute, and Valentino
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ALASTOR
You're gonna have to hear me out with this one: he's down for the gossip 24/7!!!
He will listen and talk shit with you 100% and I'm not arguing on the matter.
Someone says some wack ass shit to you in public? "I beg your fucking pardon?" With like the scariest grin that fucker can muster.
You start talking to someone? He interrogates them! If they're not strong enough to survive one little interrogation with THE Radio Demon, they're not good enough to date you. Sorry not sorry.
The friendship would be violent, but in almost a sibling type relationship. If he said something absolutely out of line, you'd smack him or kick him in the back of his knees. He'd always get payback, whether it was immediately or a few days/weeks later.
You called him a 'radio faced cunt' once in front of everyone and they all mentally started planning your funeral.
Until he clapped back with something equally as interesting.
He only accepted affection from you and Rosie. And Charlie that one time.
If you had a bad day, he'd know immediately by the look on your face and wouldn't let anyone talk to you until he knew exactly what had made one of his two favorite people upset.
He'd kill them if you told him to. Just supportive bestie shit!
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Angel Dust
Let's be real, if you're best friends with Angel, you're probably equally as close with Cherri.
But just you and Angel Dust as best friend's? Shit, he's awesome.
Had a bad day? Go to his room and cuddle Fat Nuggets while you cry/rant about the days woes.
Spontaneous sleepovers BECAUSE YOU CAN!
Platonically flirting to the point that everyone thinks you're together. Neither of you deny the claims, just to keep everyone on their toes.
The words 'love you' followed by something like 'slut' or 'bitch' are common occurrences.
When it comes to dating, Angel just wants you to be happy.
But if someone breaks your heart? He'll come out with guns blazing with no hesitation. NO ONE hurts his bestie.
Platonic cuddles because you love his floof.
Would probably form some sort of marriage pact with you for fun one night when you're both wasted. "Yeah, I'd marry you if we're both still single in 100 years, Toots."
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Husk
The banter would be unmatched. You call him a furry and he'll clap back with something that makes your jaw drop before you burst out into laughter.
He'd tell you how it is, regardless of whether you asked or not.
Sure, you're his best friend, and he cares about you. . . But it's because he cares about you that he won't sugarcoat something, even if it's not something you wanna hear.
He would listen to your problems, like any good friend.
He wouldn't trust anyone you had romantic interest in, especially since the ones you always went for had some serious issues.
He'd say something like: "Don't cry to me when that bastard breaks your heart."
And you wouldn't cry to him when it happened, but he'd make you a drink and silently take care of the problem once he had one of the other hotel residents hoist you up to your room.
The next morning you'd tell him he was right and he'd smirk as he wiped down the bar, but wouldn't say anything.
He was never good with affection, so he respects your space and you respect his.
He literally always has your back, even if you don't know it. You do.
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Charlie
Honestly, you probably grew up together and that's how the two of you became best friends. (But even if you didn't, everything is still the same.)
She's the friend that's too trusting of everyone, so you easily filled the place of being the friend that questioned everyone's intentions.
You even heavily questioned Vaggie's intentions when Charlie insisted on bringing her around after finding her.
You only warmed up to Vaggie when Charlie admitted her feeling for her, to you one late evening. She was a nervous wreck, but you were always the level-headed friend.
Being best friends with the princess of Hell had some lesser known perks — invitations to high class parties, special access at LuLu World, and the most eventful sleepovers known to Hell.
Whenever you mentioned interest in someone, Charlie was the first to push you to go for it.
If it went wrong, she was always there first, telling you it would be completely fine. If it went good, she was the first to congratulate you.
She's 100% the mom friend. Thirsty? Here's something to drink. Cut your finger? "Here's a bandaid, be more careful."
A relationship similar to siblings, bit without any malice or envy. Just happy to be in each other's presence.
She literally documented everything the two of you did, since the very first time you called her your friend. She's not going anywhere.
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Lucifer
Yeah, so, everyone thinks you're dating. Even Charlie is a bit suspicious. You're not, but you had been there by his side for as long as he could remember.
When Lilith left, you filled some part of the void, not allowing Lucifer to go hungry when he spent long days in his office.
On his good days, he's absolutely there for all the tea, especially if it's PIPING HOT. "That bitch said WHAT!?"
He has no filter and will unintentionally intentionally hurt someone's feelings when it comes to you.
He protects you as fiercely as he protects Charlie, despite knowing that you're capable of protecting yourself.
The two of you argue like an old married couple, which only fueled the dating rumors. . . Until you mentioned someone you had interest in.
Bro interrogated everyone you ever liked. Can't handle five minutes with the king of Hell? Not good enough for his bestie. Keep it movin' pal.
No one is allowed to call you a bitch, but him. Anyone else tries, they'll be met with absolute SASS.
Not even joking, Lucifer would be so sassy towards people, to the point that you picked it up.
So the two of you just went around unintentionally terrorizing demons!
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Vox
You hate someone? Bet. He'll have someone spy on them and give you the real tea.
Brings you as the plus one for many major events, but bullies you the entire time. You thought you'd get five minutes of peace on your best friends arm? WRONG!
Literally throws toddler meltdown style temper tantrums when it comes to Alastor. You're usually the one who has to reboot him or just smack some sense into him.
You're both pretty level-headed most of the time, but one of you probably has a couple of screws loose. (It's definitely him.)
No one is good enough to date you. Not sorry.
If anyone looks at you wrong, they've signed their second death to double Hell.
You and Vox talk shit about everyone, especially if you've had a hard day.
If it was bad enough, he'd offer to kill the demon who dared make your day shit. He'd still listen to you though.
"Fuck that. You're not going alone." And then you have to wait 15 minutes for him to look 'good enough' to go out, even if you were powerful and just wanted to go on little walk down the street.
Body doubling. Different tasks, silence, but the comfort of having someone else in the room. Absolutely.
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Velvette
She likes you slightly more than Vox and Valentino, which is fabulous.
Weekly designated sleepover nights where the both of you unload from the week.
Someone is rude to you? Cue Vel lecturing them on how they fucked up and their career is over, but make it musical.
You went on a date with someone and didn't tell her? "I want details, Lovey! Are they an overlord too? Tell. Me. Everything."
Prepare for Hell's greatest gossip sessions, especially around the topic of Hell's cutthroat fashion industry.
She might not seem like it, but she's a good listener.
You're leaving the tower to run a small errand? Surprise Surprise, she's coming with you and turning it into a whole day, complete with lunch and shopping!
She uses you as a model sometimes, purely because she can.
Will call you a sweet name and insult you in the same breath.
Gets worried if you don't text back within five minutes. She will literally show up to make sure you're alive. You're probably taking a nap.
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Rosie
Literally the best to spend the day with. She loves walking with you or just having tea.
Much like Alastor, she would be down for the gossip, but she wouldn't go very far with it.
In terms of relationships, she'd want you to be happy, but would also threaten to eat your partner if they hurt you.
She'd be such a good listener when you came to talk about your day.
She'd even offer advice and just casually drop something like: "Listen to your intuition, darling. It'll tell you others intentions."
At some point or another, everyone questions whether you're dating or not, which both of you laugh at frequently.
She enjoys her privacy, but she also would love having you around more than others.
She would love giving platonic affection, just to make you feel loved.
Sometimes Alastor pops up and Rosie gushes about how the two of you would get along — and immediately you're just thinking how this trio would be iconic.
She doesn't care about your past, you don't care that she's a Cannibal. . . Well, she cares, but she would NEVER hold it against you!
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Adam
He literally goes out of his way to piss you off.
There's a lot of threatening and him calling you stuff like 'Sugar Tits'.
Adam annoys you to the point of you WANTING to just jump to Hell, but you never do, because he's your best friend, and you wouldn't want to emotionally traumatize him by making him think that he lost his best friend to Lucifer, AFTER losing his wives to him.
He says "Suck my dick, Bitch" AT LEAST A DOZEN TIMES A DAY. It irritates you to no end.
The banter is unmatched. He wants to get sassy? You're the SASS MASTER.
You pushed him down the stairs for fun and he didn't talk to you for two days.
He doesn't give a fuck who you date, but if they hurt you, he's taking care of them and not telling you SHIT to avoid all of that mushy feelings crap.
The two of you argue too much for anyone to think you're together.
There's NEVER a moment of silence when you're out. He's always singing, talking, laughing, or mimicking the sound of some instrument.
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Lute
She's annoyed 24/7 and you're one of the two main causes.
But she wouldn't replace you because who else would put up with her attitude and listen to her rants like you?
If you had a hard day, she'd probably make some offhand comment and then subtly try to make it better by like getting you ice cream with rainbow sprinkles or something.
She hates physical touch, so the only time she touches you is to smack you, probably for saying something very Adam-ish. "Say that shit again and it'll be worse."
She hates everyone you have romantic interest in, but let's you learn your own lessons the hard way.
Nobody could ever picture the two of you as friends, let alone dating.
She's like the sister that has it all but claims she's the black sheep of the family.
Her job comes before everything else in her life, that including you, but when she has time for you, there's usually food and shit talking involved.
She makes sure you drink water every day. She'd kick your ass if you passed out because of dehydration.
She'd give you the key to her place, but you'd never use it unless she told you to. (Like in the event she forgot her set or something)
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Valentino
He offers you a job almost weekly. You hold off on kicking his ass every single time because that's your best friend.
Derives great pleasure from pissing you off.
You don't agree with the manner he treats his employees, so you undermine him every chance you get, just to make sure they get the best treatment possible.
It pisses him off to no end, but he let's it go. He wouldn't hurt you. He couldn't, not without a whole bunch of backlash from quite literally everyone.
Whenever you start liking someone, he warns you to be careful because he knows the industry. He is the industry.
He's gossip central. Talks super exaggerated with his hands and his voice changes whenever he remembers another detail.
He's a touchy feller, that much is evident. He's always touching you in some way, but it's not sexual/romantic or violent, it's more reassurance for both of you. It's a safe middle ground.
You have to leave for some reason? "The limo will take you, but don't touch anything."
He throws tantrums on the regular and you've learned to just let them go on until he eventually shuts the fuck up and let's you speak.
He'll call you a slut and then ask if you want to get food. It's extremely clear that you're not dating lmao.
A/N: I hope this is okay! I've never written for a bunch of these characters, as I just stared writing Hazbin stuff last week, and even then, it was a small Vox one-shot and a Lucifer one-shot.
Requests are open, if anyone would wanna request something for one of these characters? I'd pull through to the best of my ability.
Part Two
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Young, drunk and alone
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Ace x singer!reader
Warnings: fem reader, alcohol consumption, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF
Word count: 1.7k
Summary: In which you got a free tab in a bar where you preformed
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Ace watches your performance intently, not missing any of the words that scape your mouth, ringing in his ears in a mesmerizing chant. Admiring your hands as they strum your instrument with acquired ease hitting every single note perfectly, and relishing how your feet move your body all across the stage, your skirt dancing like the waves of the ocean. The lights bounce from your face just right, making you glow like a mysterious siren that has emerged from the depths of the ocean to lure him to you.
And he has fallen right into your trap
He is taken out of his daze when the bar erupts with applause, whistles and praises at your wonderful performance. You make a reverence smiling wide
“Such an amazing performer isn’t she?, Ace-yoi?” Marco swings over to his brother locking one arm over his broad shoulders, his breath reeks like alcohol and his beer spills on Ace’s shorts, making him grumble
Before he can even complain, his breath is cut short as he watches you making your way to the table, smiling at both men fondly, your eyes glittering like the warm candles lighting the place
“Y/n-yoiiii, we were just talking about you” Marco redirects the attention while the second division commander stays completely frozen at your mere presence
A lot of people would describe Ace as a confident man, sometimes even too confident, as warm and bright like the flames that come out from his fingertips. Feared by some loved by others.
But whenever you appeared in his field of vision he would transform into a blushing, stuttering nervous wreck, something he did not understand and even thought for a while he may just had came down with an illness, or maybe he was allergic to your perfume? No, that could not be, you smelled like the sweetest flowers and softest mornings. Was it your beaming smile? it always made his tummy feel funny, or maybe your eyes? They always froze him like Medusa.
He even tried avoiding you for a while as he discovered whatever this curse that had fallen over him was, but it only made matters worse. The need to follow you around, listen to your melodic voice or just knowing you were near gnawed at him, you became a necessity
One day tired of this weird symptoms taking over his life, Ace made his way to his friend’s office, asking Marco to cure him. After describing in great detail the way you made him feel, the Doctor couldn’t help but laugh at his clueless brother
“Yep, it is very clear, you have a severe cause of love”
“Love?”
Love
The word swirled around his head along side thoughts of you, you and him to be more clear. What was he to do with this feeling? Was he wrong from wanting it? More specific, wanting you to give it to him?
The more he thought the more confused he became, falling into a spiral of pining and yearning, having him eating form the palm of your hand, attached to your hip and eager to decipher you, to know everything about you. He wanted your attention, his hands brushing yours without him even noticing, a strong want for you to pamper him in caresses and tender touches took over him, sometimes even hurting him to not being able to hold you close
But he didn’t deserved such thing did he? The son of the King of the Pirates, his existence a mere sin, a mistake, a curse that he never wished to bestow over anyone else.
You deserved better
But you were just so addicting, Ace could not deny himself indulging in you
If only he wasn’t so blinded to see how much you also wished for him, how easily you allowed him to enter your life and spread like a bonfire, burning your heart to ashes
“Did you guys enjoy the show?” Even though the question was asked for both the pirates on the table, deep down, your question was directed towards Fire Fist
“YES!” Ace answers way too quickly and loudly, he clears his throat immediately after realizing his action, red creeping from his neck to his ears “You are always so so so great y/n” he smiles at you overflowing with endearment and love
“Thought you’d like it” you winked at the commander and stared at each other in a trance, Marco standing beside both of your stupid faces, surprised how two people with a brain each sometimes he doubted this statement and two eyes were not able to realize how whipped they were for each other. He slapped the commander’s back loudly making him stumble
“I’ll go get you a drink y/n-yoi” Marco announces his departure to the counter as you settle beside your dear friend, his gaze following your every move
“Shouldn’t have given them a free show”
You giggle before you scooch closer to him whispering in his red tainted ears “Everything on my tab is free tonight” you earned the most bright smile from the Fire Fist, a smile that could burn the sun itself
“Say less”
Usually you would be the one looking after Ace, making sure he didn’t fall asleep on top of anyone or anything dangerous or just standing, passing him water every now and then to keep him hydrated, and most of the times, offering a shoulder for him to lean on as you both walked back to the Moby Dick. Tonight was not gonna be any different until Ace begged you to follow behind… now you were 6 drinks in the lead, it was your free tab after all
Too bad you didn’t had any alcohol retention
The commander didn’t left your side the whole night, making sure no one tried to snatch you form the table in your drunken state, weary eyes following your shaky steps to the counter and giving the nastiest of looks to any prying eyes that settled on you, he even checked your drinks before you’d down them.
“yOu lOOk soO HOt riGhT nOw AcE” your laughter exploded to all the bar to hear as your hands squished his freckled cheeks, faces dangerously close. To Ace’s dismay, drunk you was vey handsy and tongue loose, making it hard for him to keep his composure
Marco stretched one of his arms from the other side of the table snatching your fruity drink “That’s enough for you missy”
You whined, still holding Ace’s flushed face in your hands, he carefully took them in his directing your attention
“I think it’s time to go back”
“WE HavEn’T eVen DAncEd” the slurring in your words yet another signal for you to cut the tab “The only good performer is drunk out of their mind right now” Fire fist stood up holding your hand tight enough for you to not refuse to follow him out the bar
“Good luck champ!” Marco’s teasing tone was the last thing Ace heard as he exited the crowded place
Your feet seemed to have forgotten how to function, stumbling right behind your lovely friend, he makes the executive decision that carrying you back would be much effective
“Alright y/n I’m gonna have to pull you over my shoulder ok?”
“NO!” You push him almost falling on your back on the rocky road under your feet “I can walk jus’ fine thank ya’ very much” Ace just sighs before he squats in front of you and toses you over his broad freckled shoulders with ease, making you protest
“You’re lucky you’re hot” you say, words still slurring
A laugh rumbled from the center of Ace’s ribcage meeting your ears almost earning a smile out of you if you weren’t trying to appear offended “Is that so? You haven’t stopped calling me that all night” the alcohol had gained you a strong confidence, making the thoughts that formed in your brain drop out of your mouth without worry, an ability you wished you were born with
“Jus’ stating a fact” the strong man under you stays silent, a thousand thoughts racing through his head as he becomes even more flustered
You both arrive to the port in one piece, safe and sound. Ace puts you down delicately and making sure you don’t trip over, as his body goes to stand upright his eyes meet yours halfway, making him stop and admire the sweet unapologetic love that glistened in them,. Was this the way you always looked at him? With such adoration and want?
Your hands travel for a millionth time to the sides of his face as you whisper “You don’t believe me?” you didn’t stutter one bit, every word leaving your mouth with strong confidence, no hesitation
“Wh-“
“Ace, you’re amazing” Your eyes don’t snap from his at any moment, Ace’s heart thrumming in his chest so loud he swears you can hear it, warmth rises to his face meeting your soft skin that held him with such tenderness
“And you’re loved” his breath hitches, stuck in his throat as you praise him, his simple existence
You stay like this for a while before he stands completely upright and before you can even turn to walk to the ship, a pair of sculpted tattooed arms enveloped you in a warm honest hug
“Thank you y/n” This Ace sounds different to the Ace you had come to know and love, this Ace sounds vulnerable, open and afraid, a side you had never come across before
“You know I love you” you stand on your tip toes and clash your lips in his left cheek before hugging him even tighter
Fire Fist Ace, commander of the second division of the White Beard’s Pirates, a wanted man and feared pirate becomes putty on the hands of his fellow crew mate, a sight to behold
His heart fell to his feet, flames erupt from his flushed skin but he es quick to control them before they burn you. He looks down at you, a mess of emotions written all over his freckled face, but you just walk up the ship, like nothing had happened
“C’mon Portgas or I’ll fall asleep on the deck”
Next morning you woke up to the nastiest hangover you had ever experienced and a nervous Ace outside your door, hopeful you’d remember what happened
Sweet sweet Ace, who was gonna be the one to tell him a lady never lets their guard down, specially while drinking
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Title inspired ofc by Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan. LOVE writing singer!reader x Ace 🫶🏻 BTW I got 3 Sanji x gardener!reader drafts cooking
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katerina-marie · 2 days
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The Beach Episode (Romantic Sunday)
Sukuna x Reader
You and Satoru are supposed to be filming a short ad on the beach, but your blue-eyed costar has a habit of never showing up on time. What happens when a certain tattooed, pink-haired band member surprises you with a visit? You frolic in the ocean of course!
Notes: A celebrity!au that popped into my head while listening to Romantic Sunday by Car, the Garden and would not leave. While this is a Sukuna x Reader fic, other characters do play minor roles and may have brief POVs. This fic is pending in my head as a chapter in a larger work that chronicles reader's and Sukuna's developing relationship and is inspired by other scenarios that come to be while listening to music, but nothing is concrete. Since that's so, Sukuna and reader's relationship isn't explicitly defined but is certainly past friendship.
Word Count: 5.3k
Content: bandmember Sukuna x actor female Reader (referred to as such, but left descriptively vague), no y/n, manager Nanami, bodyguard Toji, actor Gojo (he's picked on, but I love him so please don't take offense), other favorites who have small supporting rolls, all fluff, crack, and humor, includes an innuendo or two, but other wise PG/PG-13, out of character Sukuna (he's so fluffy).
P.S. I've used a line from a favorite TV show back in my teen years. Let me know if you recognize it!
——————————————————————————————————
“Well…you did say you wanted to go to the beach, Kento. Look where we are!”
Your teasing tone and amused grin did nothing to budge the frustrated scowl off the face of your manager. If anything, it drove the furrow between his eyebrows that much further, and you swore a vein in his forehead started to throb. 
“A vacation, actually,” Nanami began, sending you a pointed look that said he knew exactly what you were playing at, “in Malaysia…on a beach…by myself.” 
You tutted at him before giving him a dainty smile and settling further into your makeup chair, “I was only trying to make you laugh, Kento.” 
In your opinion, laughing and smiling was something Nanami Kento seldom did but often should. Whether it was a personal standard he held himself to or some other form of ritual torture, your manager stuck to a strict dress code no matter where he went. Case in point, on a beach in the middle of the summer, Nanami was clothed in his usual suit, tie and dutifully styled hair in tow. The only indication that he planned for the environment you all would spend the day in was the thick white stripes of sunscreen pasted on the sharp angle of his nose and over the apples of his cheeks. Whether he intentionally matched the color of his tan suit to the sand under your feet was anyone’s best guess. You hesitated to ask, a mercy for Kento if you did say so yourself, if only because he looked one wrong word away from throwing himself in the ocean, and not in a way that indicated any fun would be had. 
As if privy to your thoughts, he released a drawn out sigh and crossed his legs in his own chair across from you. He took a quick glimpse at the time on his phone and shook his head. 
Poor Kento. He really did deserve that vacation. And honestly, you did appreciate and acknowledge his dedication to his craft—and you, by extension. 
“I’m sorry,” Nanami murmured, an apologetic softening of his eyes making his whole expression smooth out, “my frustrations are not towards you, I assure you. I’m confident you could guess at whom my ire is directed at currently.” 
You snorted. “Well, of course I c—,” 
“That blue-eyed bastard is late again!” 
The flap of your makeup tent was thrown back with enough force that you were surprised it hadn’t ripped clean down its seam. Your overgrown tree of a bodyguard had a habit of “forgetting” the strength and stature that made him so adept at his job and simply enjoyed his ability to throw any object—or person—around as he pleased. 
You scowled at Toji for interrupting you and watched as he stomped over to stand next to you and Nanami with a pout that pulled at the, frankly, appealing scar at the corner of his mouth. Between that, his eyes that looked as if they knew every secret you ever had and shaggy black hair that probably needed a cut, Toji posed both an intimidating and handsome figure. That was besides the point though and not that it mattered much to you. He had a son that was a friend of your friend and only a couple years younger than you. Not that Toji looked it one bit. 
“Satoru hasn’t been heard from, I presume?” 
Toji and Nanami both leveled you with a deadpan look and answered you at the same time with the same disgruntled voice, “no.”
You threw your head back in exasperation and instantly regretted it when you were reminded of the dozens of pins holding your styled hair in place as they all poked you quite viciously in the back of the head. You winced and raised your hand to rub at the sore spot, only to have it slapped away by a member of the hair and makeup team to prevent you from mussing it further. You crossed your arms with a huff and slouched further into your chair. 
“You look like you’re having fun,” Toji remarked, his smirk full of sarcasm and twisted amusement. “I think they missed a spot with your makeup though.” 
You found no humor in the waving of his hand as one of his fingers circled the entirety of your face in the air in front of it, nor were you concerned with the false insinuation that you looked anything other than well put together. Now, the chance of said makeup sliding right off your face as soon as you stepped into the late afternoon sun? Plausible, but best left to the worries of the experts. 
“Toji,” you crooned, voice cloyingly sweet but eyeing him with a sharp glare he was surely well acquainted with, “we’re at the beach. Why don’t you, oh I don’t know, go play in the ocean and swim with the fish? Or, do you want to build a sandcastle?” 
The smug grin he was wearing fell clean off his face and was replaced with an ugly pinch of his nose.
“Hell no, I hate sand! The damned stuff always gets everywhere no matter what I do. In my socks, my sandwich, the crack of my a—,” 
“Enough!” 
Nanami’s exclamation was loud and angry enough that it caused you and Toji both to jump and effectively ended whatever crude tale he was about to subject the crowd in the tent to. 
“I’m going to go call Geto and see where the hell his client is.” 
Nanami stood and brushed any bits of sand from his suit. Not that anyone could tell if there had been any in the first place. 
“You,” he added, pointing in your direction, “will get dressed so that once I finish ripping Gojo’s manager a new one, we can talk with the director of this damned affair and see if we can get any film done with just you while we wait.” 
Without leaving any room for protest or discussion, Nanami was gone with a flutter of a tent flap and you were left making wide eyes at your equally stunned bodyguard. There was silence and stillness for a beat of time before Toji shrugged and movement about the tent resumed again. 
“Well,” he drawled, “that’s my cue to leave. I’m off to go guard some bodies and what not.” His eyebrows danced and his eyes flashed, not in the least deterred by your annoyed stare. 
“We’re on a closed off, private beach, Toji. There’s no one here for you to throw out.” 
He was unbothered and took a few sauntering steps back towards the entrance of the tent. 
“Still, I wouldn’t want you to think I was slacking on the job and quit paying me. Have fun getting dressed, Princess.” 
Toji ignored the baring of your teeth and left just as quickly as Nanami did. You blew out a resigned sigh as you took a peek at the mountain of lace, fabric, and strings that hung from a corner of the tent and decided at that moment that you wished it was Toji being stuffed into a dress and primped within an inch of his life. 
“He’s going to charm his way back into the refreshment tent and pass out,” you grumbled, and oh yes, that was seething jealousy you held for your bodyguard. Someone chuckled behind you, but was quick to prompt you to stand and disrobe. 
Really, it couldn’t be that bad…right? 
——————————————————————————————————
Some suspiciously placed tape, three assistants, and nearly forty five minutes later would prove you to be exceptionally wrong. Lace sleeves had been tugged up against sweaty arms, the strings at the back of your dress that held it together had been pulled and tied so tightly that you were hesitant to move too suddenly for fear of busting it, and the pins in your hair had been removed to let it lay as styled. You were one moment of heat induced lightheadedness away from falling over into the sand, and there would be no getting up after that. There was fabric clinging and swishing against your legs and you thought you had seen a train at the back of the dress, though that made no sense to you at all given what was planned to happen in front of a camera. 
“Please,” you begged to anyone in the room that would listen. “Can I be done now? If I don’t get a breath of fresh air, I’m going to pass out.” 
Your wish was acquiesced, and with the promise to not mess anything up, you made your great escape out of the tent and towards the edge of the ocean before anyone could change their mind. There was no need for any more hair to be pinned, makeup to be touched up, or fabric draped. 
The water that went on endlessly for miles in front of you was a light blue and mostly calm in its movement for the day. Sandy beach on either side of you stretched out until you could just barely see it transition into rocky cliffs that helped form its crescent shape. If one could ignore the highway and paved parking lot a couple minutes walk behind you, it was almost like you were on a secluded island paradise. 
Though the sun was still hot, the fresh air was successful in clearing your mind, and the salted mist of the water was enough to help balm the warmth under your dress. The multiple tents strewn across the sand each served their own niche purpose with people popping in and out of them all day. There was chatter about, people hustling from one side of the camped setup to the other and cameras placed strategically to capture whatever commercial or short that you and Satoru were supposed to film.  However, no one paid you much mind at the moment, and you sidled up to where the water met the sand, dress held above your ankles so the waves could tickle your feet. 
“Don’t you look pretty.” 
Elated surprise made your heart leap at the sound of a familiar voice, and you whipped around with excitement written all over your face to meet the eyes of the handsome man behind you. 
“Sukuna! What are you doing here?” 
The man in question grinned, his expression half mischievous and maybe the slightest bit bashful, though no one would dare point it out. His pink hair was pushed back into its normal style, but due to the humidity, random pieces drooped down his forehead and into his eyes slightly. His tattoos were on full display in the tank top and swim trunks he was wearing. Every bit of him was a sight for your sore eyes. Sukuna opened his arms for you and it took only a moment of hesitancy before you stepped into them for a quick hug. 
“Yuji and Choso wanted to go for a drive since the day was nice, and naturally Fushiguro tagged along. Coincidentally though, Yuji had us drive along the highway behind the setup you all got going on and ‘poof,’ here we are.”  
You pulled back from Sukuna as he finished his sentence and gave him a small, happy wiggle of your shoulders. You made a note to remember how you felt his fingers dancing down languidly over the lace covering your arm and swirling gently around the edge of the sleeve that came to a point on the back of your hand before letting his arm fall back against his side. 
“Well, I’m glad the four of you made it, coincidence or not,” you quipped at him. Your eyes still hadn’t left his and you knew it was going to be a struggle to wipe what had to be a lovestruck grin off your lips. 
“You sure about that?” 
Sukuna laughed and threw a hand back over his shoulder, gesturing towards what your eyes followed and found to be the refreshment tent. What you saw had you doubling over in laughter, or at least as far as you could in your dress. 
Yuji and Choso, Sukuna’s brothers and bandmates, were struggling to stifle giggles as they hovered over a hulking figure laid out in a chaise underneath a misting fan. As you predicted, Toji was dead asleep, mouth agape and a half eaten cheeseburger dangling from a hand resting on his chest. What really set the whole thing apart was the way Yuji and Choso were surreptitiously trying to see how many french fries they could place in Toji’s mouth before he either woke up or started to choke when one inevitably fell back down his throat. In the corner, Megumi stood watching with barely concealed glee and a phone in his hand capturing the whole ordeal. You assumed that no matter what way this went, Megumi was bound to come out of it on top with either the joy of having comedic blackmail to hold over his father’s head or the pleasure of getting to watch him beat his friend’s asses. In the best case scenario, it was both. 
You recovered from your laughter with a shake of your head and a measly deep breath before turning back to Sukuna. It was sucked right back out of you when you found his eyes trailing up from the tips of your toes, lingering at where the dress cinched your waist and then at the lace scalloping your chest before finally coming up to meet your eyes. His gaze was half lidded and heavier than usual, and it set your cheeks aflame in a way that you could never pass off as from the sun. He smirked when you stuttered over some inarticulate noise that had escaped your mouth, and you were about to take a giant step back to compose yourself when his face eventually softened. Sukuna offered you a quick wink, not so devious and more contrite than anything else, though it didn’t seem to affect your racing pulse any less, and then continued his tirade as he hooked his pinky finger around a lock of hair framing your eyes. 
Somewhere in the back of your head choirs were singing and clouds were parting, but all you could think about was the hint of black polish on his nails that you spotted out of your peripheral and the growing number of people you could see beginning to take interest in the way Sukuna towered over you and how you didn’t seem to mind. You finally made space between the two of you by pressing your knuckles against his chest with just enough pressure to send the message. He obeyed and returned the small smile you sent his way to soften the gesture. 
“So,” he started, his hands set deep in his pockets and a rock to his heels that would make anyone else look nervous, “what are you all waiting around for?”  
Thankful for conversation to focus on, you threw your hands up to convey that you were just as confused as he was and followed it up with what you made to sound like the most logical and obvious explanation in the world;
“Sa-to-ru is late. Again.” 
At the first enunciated syllable of Satoru’s name to leave your mouth, a corner of Sukuna’s nose quivered in disdain and he rolled his eyes in a way that was clearly disparaging, yet you found weakened your knees. 
“Tell me about it. He most likely forgot or got caught up w—,” 
The most ungracious snort left Sukuna’s nose, and you were so taken aback by the fact that it happened, and let alone found it attractive, that you missed whatever he had hissed under his breath. 
“Tied up is probably more like it.” 
“What was that?” 
“Oh, nothing. Nothing important.” 
His voice was too intentionally innocent and his face suspiciously cleared of any ill will for you to believe an ounce of what he said, but there was no chance in getting Sukuna to admit anything he didn’t want to, and you were more preoccupied with getting that look from earlier back in his eyes. So with that, you meandered back a few steps into the water and waited. 
“So, tell me, what brilliant songwriting have you been up to, oh esteemed ‘King of Curses’, or is that strictly confidential, band member-only info?” 
You knew asking Sukuna, or even Yuji or Choso, about their wildly popular band ‘The Curses’ was a sure fire way to get them talking about their shared passion, and it always brought a smile to your face to see them so excited. You expected the same now, but were caught off guard when Sukuna stumbled over the step he took to follow you and the brief way his face shuttered blank before he recovered. That act alone would have been enough to put an end to your flirty intentions—because you just knew that nickname of his got him riled up whenever it came out of your mouth—but the sensation of fabric being pulled tight against the back of your legs had you stopped. A quick glance down into the water confirmed that he had stepped on your dress and the extra fabric was beginning to swirl around his calves. 
So that’s what the train was for! A devious, delicious idea began to form in your head and you knew you had only one chance to make it happen. 
You glanced up at Sukuna through your eyelashes (he struggled to recall in that moment if they had always been that long or if it was the makeup making his mind fuzzy) and cocked your head gently to one side before beginning a slow prowl around him.
“What, no love songs or epic tales of star crossed romance have emerged from that practice studio of yours lately? Don’t tell me a cat has got your tongue?” 
Ever focused on the way your lips curled into a sultry smile and the feather-light drag of your finger along the top of his shorts at his hip, Sukuna was unusually quiet as he followed you with his eyes. You began to pass behind his back and your circle was nearly halfway complete. 
“Su-ku-na,” you called when you received no answer, watching as he gave a shake of his head as if to clear a haze from it. 
“Quit being a brat and distracting me!”  
There was no malice in his tone, but you could tell that he was being truthful. You had completed your circle and came to stand in front of him once again. 
“I’m just waiting for you to answer my question,” you sing-songed. 
Sukuna’s mouth stuttered open for a second and nothing came out before he finally seemed to collect himself, “No! No love songs, no sappy lyrics, and no star crossed romance. Who do you take me for?” 
Your peals of laughter that followed his blurted response floated about the beach and seemed to soothe whatever had come over him in the last couple of minutes. In a haste, you cast a glance down at his legs to check that everything was in place. 
“I’m just playing with you, Sukuna,” you cooed at him, “there’s no need to get defensive.” 
His eyes narrowed and you watched with glee as he pulled himself up to his full height, leaned down into your face, and let a haughty smirk tug the corners of his mouth. 
“You don’t want to play with me, Sweetheart. I. Play. Rough.” 
“Hmm, you think so?” 
You let a delicate, breathy sigh brush up against his mouth from yours while you arched your back slightly to press your chest against his. Sensing you had Sukuna’s full attention, you smoothed your leg between his to let the side of your foot trace oh so gently over the bone in his ankle. His breath hitched, and in the same moment you tipped your head back to close a fraction of distance between your lips, you also tightened your fingers in the furls of your dress. 
“Really,” you whispered, “somehow I think that I play rougher.” 
Yank. 
Since he was already off balance when you ripped the fabric of your dress out and around from under his feet, it only took a quick sweep of your foot against Sukuna’s leg to keep the momentum going and to dump him and his gobsmacked expression into the knee-deep water of the ocean. You jumped back to avoid as much of the splash as you could, and in the same heartbeat, you lifted your dress and took off in the direction of the tents set back on the shore. Your plan was a success.
There were two oversights on your part, however, that became all too clear in the couple seconds after this monumental event took place. 
One, the amount of water your dress accumulated and how much it now slowed you down due to its weight and tangle in your legs. 
Two, which you really should have anticipated if you thought back on it, was the unbelievable amount of speed and agility with which Sukuna pushed himself out of the water, set a borderline maniacal look upon you that promised glorious retribution (you would have to question yourself later as to why this sent shivers down your back and warmth to places you would rather not think about), and thus began an inhumanly quick sprint towards you. 
So, naturally, you did what any independent, perfectly capable woman would do; you screamed at the top of your lungs bloody murder for your bodyguard and high tailed it out of the ocean. 
——————————————————————————————————
The first thing Toji wondered upon being awoken by the screams of a dying woman was why his mouth was full of french fries. He sputtered on the cold and soggy pieces in his mouth as he leapt from the chaise he had barely remembered falling asleep on and frantically looked out towards the water to see what fate he had let come upon you. Toji was certain there were only two possibilities. 
One: he had fallen asleep on the job and you were now being eaten by a shark.
Two: he had fallen asleep on the job and you were now drowning in the ocean. 
To his sleep addled brain, which was currently working through the onslaught of you shrieking his name, either option had an equally probable likelihood of occurring. The outcome, however? In both scenarios, there was only one logical conclusion. He was getting fired. 
With that thought in mind, he started the process of becoming your own personal search and rescue. All in a flurry of forward movement, he kicked off his shoes, dropped the crumpled half eaten cheeseburger from his grasp, and flailed his hand around in his pocket to locate his wallet. He was not about to let his most important possession be lost to the tides—especially with the encroaching threat of unemployment looming over his head—and was about to seriously consider dropping his shorts to the ground altogether when he heard your screams reach a sudden pitch and then descend into hysterical laughter. 
Toji took that as a sign to further scope out the situation in front of him and after rubbing sleep and sand from his eyes, he could now better understand that you weren’t actually in mortal danger. You were just flirting. 
With the adrenaline that was previously coursing through his body now taking a sudden nosedive, Toji staggered back into the tent to plop onto his previously occupied chaise. While he was obviously relieved to see you weren’t dying, he was even more glad that he wasn’t going to have to call Shiu tomorrow and admit that his asset was dead and he was in need of a new job. Surely offers would be next to none, and he didn’t think he could handle guarding any more feisty starlets or listen to them vent about their secret love affairs with pink-haired band members…at least not without the blood pressure medication his doctor had threatened him with at his last check-up.
At the sound of muffled laughter to his left, Toji swung his gaze over to his son, a grin on Megumi’s face and phone in hand, and his son’s two idiot friends, both of whom were having to help hold the other up. 
“Not you three now too,” he grumbled, standing up from his chaise and making his way over to where they stood. “What’s got you idiots making so much n—,”
Toji came to a sudden halt as Megumi’s hand lifted up to shove his cell phone in his face. His eyes squinted at the screen, the laughter from Yuji and Choso increasing in volume, and he needed only a second to process the video he was watching before snapping his head towards the two brothers. 
“You bastards!”
Megumi watched as his father and two friends stared wide eyed at each other for a couple of seconds before they all took off running out of the tent and beyond. The thought of catching the pummeling that was coming the brother’s way once his father caught them was plenty enticing, but years of living with Toji Fushiguro taught him that he too was to be considered guilty as an accomplice, and thus making himself scarce was the wiser decision. Besides, there were plenty of cameras already rolling anyway. 
——————————————————————————————————
You had taken only a couple of steps onto dry land before a set of well muscled arms locked around your midsection, lifted you clear off your feet, and jerked you back against a solid chest. Sukuna’s breathing was loud and heavy in your ear and you could feel water leaching through the back of your dress from where he pressed forward against you with the entirety of his body. 
“That was naughty,” he taunted, and the low scratch of his voice made your feigned attempt to wrestle out of his hold falter. 
Before you could say anything in response, in an impressive feat of strength, Sukuna once more swept you off your feet and planted you stomach down over his shoulder. He turned and began to wade back into the water, and it wasn’t until your view from beside his hips started to be filled entirely by water that you struggled—in earnest this time. 
“Sukuna!” You gasped, trying to come up with some kind of plea that would keep you from your fate of being dropped into the ocean. “Suk-Sukuna, I can’t swim, I can’t swim!”
This wasn’t true in the slightest, but you hoped his concern for your safety would outweigh his need for vengeance. Just as the ends of your hair became engulfed by water, Sukuna dragged you back up from over his shoulder and slid you down his front until he could grasp at your thighs and pull them open around his hips. You threw your arms around his neck and prayed that the pleading look in your eyes would work.
“That sounds like a ‘you’ problem,” was all the warning Sukuna gave before cocking an eyebrow at you and promptly falling flat backwards into the ocean with you secured against his chest. The two of you crashed into the water just in time for a wave to surge over you both. It was a cold shock to your system, but you had no more than a hiccup to process the feeling before Sukuna was up on his feet and trudging back to shore with you in his arms. You sputtered the whole way back and pawed at your face to pry a curtain of soaking wet hair from your eyes. 
It was at the line where ocean became more sand than water that Sukuna stumbled, presumably from wet fabric caught in his legs again, and rotated mid-fall just quickly enough to save you from being squashed under him. 
It took a minute for your combined unabashed laughter to subside, and when you finally caught your breath from where your head rested against the curve of his shoulder, you flew upwards. You swatted Sukuna’s chest when the glimpse of sparkling eyes and a full smile snagged your attention, and you hoped that the swaths of fabric pooling around the two of you was enough to disguise how you straddled his hips and that his fingers were tracing absentminded figures at their place right on the small of your back. Unable to control the flush of heat through your limbs, you exclaimed the first thing that popped into your head and then immediately regretted it. 
“Sukuna, I’m completely soaked!” 
The quickness of the wicked grin that spread across his face astounded you, and when you noticed his lips begin to part, to no doubt retort something highly inappropriate for the given situation, you slapped a hand over his mouth. His smile was still present under your palm, his eyes soft and adoring, and you swore you felt him place a small kiss at the meat of your thumb. 
“AND CUT!” 
The director’s shout was enough to shatter the intimate quiet that had gone unnoticed by you two, and the both of you lurched just far enough apart to separate your bodies but remain near enough for the bump of a knee or shoulder. Before you could even gather your bearings enough to understand what was going on, a tall shadow appeared over you, and you leaned your head back to squint up at whoever it was. 
“That was certainly entertaining.” 
You recognized the voice of Satoru’s manager just as he held out a hand to help you to your feet, and you shot him a look of dismay once you steadied yourself. 
“It’s nice of you and your client to finally grace us with your presence, Geto,” you replied dryly. 
Geto shrugged, not a single care evident on that pretty face of his, and brought your attention to the crowd gathered behind him with a flourish of his hand. You took a tentative glance at what he was referring to and nearly cringed when you caught sight of the numerous cameras pointed at you and Sukuna. Not to mention Nanami, who stood next to the director with a hand pressed up against his temple like he was in great pain. Though from the small smile you could just barely make out and the animated chatter from the director into Nanami’s ear, you assumed that what had just transpired wasn’t such a bad thing. Even Toji, who was a couple feet behind them with Yuji and Choso in head locks under each of his arms, looked like he had gotten quite the chuckle out of the whole thing.
“It seems like the film was still able to get captured well enough without us,” Geto remarked. “I don’t believe there’s any reason to re-do anything with Satoru just for the sake of appearances.” 
You were about to open your mouth to make known your agreement to the idea when Sukuna suddenly threw an arm around your shoulder and popped back at Geto with a brusque “hell no.” You weren’t sure if you felt offended or disappointed by his objection, but before you could start to fret over it, Sukuna was stroking his thumb gently across the back of your neck, and you proceeded to melt into his side. Perhaps his initial disagreement had less to do with his reluctance to be seen as part of the project and instead had everything to do with him making sure you had the full ability to determine how much of him at your side you were ready to share with the world. The thought had you giddy. 
“I have zero objections to using the film with Sukuna.” 
There was a jubilant cheer from all the staff once they heard your words, and you couldn’t tear your eyes from the satisfied look on Sukuna’s face that followed them. 
“Ah, question,” he called out suddenly, making pointed eye contact with the director, and even Nanami too. “By agreeing to this, that means she doesn’t have to frolic around here with the white-hair idiot, right?” 
Over the immediate roar of laughter from everyone around, an indignant “hey!” could be heard from the nearby makeup tent, and for just once, you were grateful for Satoru’s inability to ever be on time.
——————————————————————————————————
Notes: If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you didn't catch it, the line "Somehow I think that I [you] play rougher" is taken from a scene in the Vampire Diaries (I was obsessed). Did I also get inspiration from that scene in the horse movie Spirit for Sukuna and Reader's moment in the water? Yes, yes I did.
Also, in my decade and a half of reading fan fiction, I have not once written or posted any of my own. So if I miss something important, please kindly let me know.
Always feel free to share comments, thoughts, or questions <3
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ianyoa · 4 hours
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SOMETHING SUPER SWEET
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jjk men x baker f!reader wc: 757 featuring: satoru gojo, suguru geto, nanami kento, choso kamo, yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, yuta okkotsu.
summary ; jjk men headcannons with a baker girlfriend !
Satoru Gojo LOVES the fact that you can bake. Coming back to a sweet treat is like a dream come true. If you’re having insecurities about trying something new out, he’s the first to reassure you that it’s already perfect on the first go. He loves watching you bake when there’s downtime. Whenever you’re distracted he likes to dip his finger into the batter and have an early taste… which leads into a spoonful, then another, and another. Next thing you know, you’re giving Satoru a slice of cake while he’s in bed with a stomach ache because he insists he’s TOTALLY fine and doesn’t want it to go to waste. 
Suguru Geto claims to be indifferent. He comes over and sees a brownie, he’ll only eat it because “you made them.” Truth is, he loves them so, so much. After a full day of having to take in awful curses, there’s nothing better than having something delicate that his sweet girlfriend made. Maybe one day he’ll vocally express his love for them, but you already tell how much he enjoys them by the look in his eyes when he comes back to the smell. 
Nanami Kento, being the man he is, helps you. He loves coming back to see you midway through baking. Doesn’t matter if he’s tired, he’ll wash his hands and jump right in with you. He loves it when you make bread together. It’s perfect for him to pack it up for his lunch the next day. He doesn’t lean towards sweets, maybe having a bite or two and leaving the rest for you. But the second you make croissants, muffins, biscuits, you name it.. he’s thinking about the perfect time to propose. 
Choso Kamo is amazed. Seriously, like.. how is this possible? He gets a little nervous whenever you tell him to join you, he just doesn’t want to screw up since you always do it perfectly. Choso ends up enjoying it a lot! He gets happy whenever it starts forming together. One thing he loves doing, decorating the cookies after. You give him a couple of piping bags with different icings and a tray of sprinkles and he’s sitting there for who knows how long trying to make it look perfect for you. He loves watching you bake, not just staring at the dough as you make it from nothing to something, but the look on your face once it’s complete and you’re satisfied.
Yuji Itadori takes pride in having a girlfriend who can bake. Every time you make something, you’ll always have to make extras so he can take it for his friends. Gives them to others with the biggest smile on his face saying that you were the one who made them. He’s quite literally your number-one fan. Encourages you to open some sort of shop, even if you claim it’s just a hobby, so he can pass on the delight of these sweets to others. Everyone has to know what a real dessert tastes like! But you always have to make sure that there’s plenty left for him.
Megumi Fushiguro doesn’t mind it. He doesn’t go out of his way to ask for anything but if you offer, sure he’ll take some. As long as it’s not anything insanely sweet, he quite enjoys it. Loves it when you make something with dark chocolate though. He drinks black coffee of course he wouldn’t mind some dark chocolate cookies or something simple like a fruit coated in dark chocolate. Whenever you do manage to get him to eat something a little more on the sweeter side, he never complains. It’s something that you made. He claims to never say anything against it because that would be rude but really, it’s the only sweet thing he’ll ever fully enjoy without complaining. 
Yuta Okkotsu enjoys making sweets for you! It started when one day you gave him a cupcake as a treat for the stress that he’s endured, then the next day he gives you a 2 tiered cake. This man will always give you something in return. Sure he might’ve never considered the idea of baking but once you two started dating and he saw how much you enjoyed it, he started practicing so one day you two can do it together. It slowly became normal for you two to make each other something every once in a while. Sure his baking might be really good, but he claims that he’ll never reach your level. There’s something about your sweets that makes his day instantly better.
⁺ ﹒ ˚ ₊ ‧꒰ა ﹒ ✦﹒ ໒꒱ ‧ ₊ ˚ ﹒ ⁺
notes ; i wrote this because i was watching a baking show LMAOO
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luvj4key · 1 day
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you can come to me ──★ s. jaeyun
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PAIRING: spiderman!jake x f!reader GENRE: established relationship, fluff, slight angst WORD COUNT: 1.2k WARNINGS: slightly suggestive (steamyish makeout), blood, injuries, cursing
SYNOPSIS: being spiderman's girlfriend isn't the easiest thing. you've seen your boyfriend go through a number of things - injuries included - but it's never easy. no matter what though, he knows that he can rely on you. you're his lifeline.
LUVJ4KEY'S NOTE: this was inspired by that one scene from amazing spiderman 1 (iykyk). i just had to. that's all i got to say. happy reading <3
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“Please be safe Jake, I love you.”
This was the last message you sent Jake before he left to go fight the Lizard. This was almost 6 hours ago and you never got a reply back from him. You knew how dangerous Jake’s job can be. You knew the many risks to it. Jake made sure you knew before you started dating, shortly after finding out that he’s Spiderman. Long story short, you really didn’t mean to find out his identity nor did Jake even intend on telling you so soon. It all happened so fast. You got a phone call at 2 in the morning from a tipsy Jake. You were about to leave to go get him but you were stopped when he confessed two things to you: one, that he’s madly in love with you and two, that he’s the Spiderman. You remember feeling like time stopped from not one but two of the confessions. You proceeded to go pick him up from wherever he was and push the two confessions off to the side, leaving it as a future conversation for when he was sober. After a long - and awkward - conversation, you ended up confessing your feelings towards Jake and tried to think of ways to make your relationship with him work because you really really love this boy. You always have.
And you did make it work because here you are, 1 year into your relationship. It took some work - and tears - but you made it. You constantly reassured him that you would be there for him every step of the way. He’s not losing you that easily. You had to promise him that you would be extra careful - as did he. 
Despite all the precautions, it doesn’t stop you from constantly worrying about him. This is your boyfriend’s life you’re talking about here - he’s constantly putting his life at risk for other people’s safety. So when he doesn’t respond to your text, of course you were worried. You knew what he was going up against.
You couldn’t sleep because of the constant fear and worry you were feeling. You didn’t feel good about this at all. Normally you wouldn’t think too much about it but this time was different. Every so often, you tossed and turned in bed up until you couldn’t take it anymore. You had to distract yourself. Getting out of bed, you walked over to your desk and settled down to work on a couple of assignments -  you might as well since you’re awake.
Moments pass until you suddenly hear some light taps on your window. Immediately glancing over your shoulder, your eyes meet Jake’s. He gave you a tired smile, it was evident that he was in pain. Your heart dropped and you felt tears form in your eyes as you thought of what could’ve possibly happened to him and dashed over to the window, letting Jake in. “Hi beautiful,” he breathed out, “You look very nice tonight.” despite him being in pain, he tried to reassure you.
“Jake,” was all you could say as he struggled to climb in. Groaning as he barely makes it through the window, he collapsed onto the ground, holding his side. “Jake,” you panicked, “What hurts? Show me please” you blabbed out. Nothing was in your head but Jake and his health.
You helped him slide out of the top part of his suit, revealing a large claw-like scratch on his side. He was losing a lot of blood. “Oh shit,” you said under your breath.
“He got me good.” Jake managed to let out, still trying to brighten the mood.
“Hold on,” you said before taking off to go grab the first-aid kit. Once you got back, you caught Jake closing his eyes, “Jake please keep your eyes open for me,” you begged. 
“I’m sorry baby, I’m just so tired.”
“I know my love but hang in there for me please. I can’t lose you” you said as you scrambled to get everything together.
You didn’t even notice you were crying until you felt Jake’s warm hand on your cheek. He wiped away your tears causing you to avert your gaze to him. He smiled at you, “Hey, I’m okay I promise. It’s just a scratch.”
“It’s not just a scratch Jake, you’re losing a lot of blood.”
“I know. But you’re not losing me that easily.” he hissed in pain as you cleaned around his wound.
“I’m sorry.” you winced along with him. A silence filled the air as you concentrated on dressing his wound. Jake couldn’t help but stare at you. He loved you - so so much. He wouldn’t have been able to do this without you. Of course, it wasn’t his intention to tell you that he was Spiderman. He knew that your life is now at risk. But at the same time, he thought it played out perfectly. He knew that he would tell you eventually. He trusts you with his whole life. You had to know about this part of his life.  
Out of instinct, he reached up to play with a strand of your hair that fell in front of your face. It was something he did out of habit. He noticed you slightly relaxing, “I’m so in love with you…”
You shook your head, “Of course you gotta say that right now.”
“I have to,” he laughed, “It’s a given thing.” you scoff, turning your attention back to finishing up dressing his wound. Once again, your attention was turned back to Jake when he gently grabbed your chin, pulling you in closer to the point your noses were almost ouching. His gaze fell to your lips for a brief second before going back to your eyes.
“This is a dangerous game you’re playing,” you whispered, feeling your heartbeat speed up.
“I know…but we both know you like it.” was the last thing he said before pulling you in for a kiss. It didn’t take long for the kiss to intensify. It was just you and him in this moment. Nothing else. You moved your hand up to cup Jake’s face while his fingers buried itself into your hair - feeling the desperation in his touch. You pulled away from each other to catch your breaths.
Suddenly remembering the situation, you were the first to snap out of it, “Okay buddy, let’s get you to bed yeah? You’re literally on the floor wounded right now. Now’s not the time to be in the mood.” you laughed as you helped him off the floor.
“Well, that was fun.”
“Yeah…” you blushed, “Here, let’s get you changed and into bed.” walking over to your dresser, you pulled out a drawer that was exclusively for Jake’s clothes - since you never know when he would need it. You gave him his fresh clothes and got into bed as he changed. 
Shortly after he joined you in bed, immediately pulling you into his arms. You ran your fingers through his hair to which he quickly relaxed into, “You scared me Jake… so bad.”
“I know baby I’m sorry, I had nowhere to go.”
“No… I’m happy you came to me. I like knowing that I can take care of you.” you gently ran through fingers on his face.
“You’re all I have Y/n. I’m serious. I can’t lose you too.”
“You won’t. I’m with you forever. I promise.”
“And I promise to always protect you. I won’t let anyone or anything take you away from me.” 
You were his rock and he is yours. 
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©luvj4key, all work is written by me. do not copy or repost
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koisuko · 2 days
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Can you do headcanons Mk1 male characters of Liu Kang, Kuai Liang, Tomas Vbrada, Bi Han, Shang Tsung, Havik, Syzoth, Rain, Kenshi and Baraka with fem s/o who has the power of the Scarlet Witch (Marvel) please?
Ooo spicy! I love scarlets powers so much, they are so sick <3 (a draft I struggled to finish, had a brain blank and couldn’t figure out most characters, sorry severe 🥹)
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Tw: none, maybe blood or fear but that’s it, fem reader
Liu Kang
He had already known about your powers, given the keeper of time and all. You often kept your mind reading ability to yourself, for your own benefit, so you already knew that he knew.
He was your main support and guide in honing your abilities, bringing you to the monks for daily training. He was uplifting and gave you gentle praise constantly.
The monks, on the other hand, had never seen such power. They were fascinated beyond belief, and couldn’t help but look on in awe at your prowess.
Bi-han
Your power had intrigued him, brought him out of his shell enough to let you in before closing it again. His gentler side a stranger to all but yourself.
You two were an absolute unit of a team. Often mingling your powers together during battle, such as lifting him a little bit higher, creating energy to strengthen icy projectiles and what not.
You were valuable when it came to enemies of the Lin Kuei. An intruder in the base? He’ll have you interrogate them for information, whether that be straight mind reading or bending reality was entirely up to you.
And once the job was done successfully, he was right by your side to praise you for your work, in private mostly.
He could never really hide his feelings, with your mind reading and all, it was all right there on paper for you. Something troubling him? You know.
Shang Tsung
To him, you’d be quite the fascinating specimen at first meeting. Love is a bit of a bottom of the list fort of thing.
He was taken aback himself when he landed you as his s/o. And such a powerful s/o you are.
He almost considered using your love for him to his advantage. Just his little toy to manipulate and bend to his will, carefully of course, who knows how much damage you could do to him if you found out his plan.
Your power fascinated him, often taking you to his lab to watch you move various objects and terrify his subjects with waking nightmares.
You were a lethal weapon to him, and one he could use in his quest for realm domination and power. How afraid others would be of his loyal pet, breaking others with fear and pain with just a snap of his finger.
“Something the matter, my love?” You’d place a hand on his arm, breaking him of his deep daydreaming. He reply with his usual cocky smirk, “of course, why wouldn’t I be?”
He had it all planned out, except one thing he missed, a small but vital detail. You could read his plan every time he thought it up, his mind open and obedient to skim at your will.
Havik
Power, and liberation, were his priorities in life, no matter how extended his mortality would be.
It would be a surprise to many, including himself, that he even had a s/o. However, I surprised no one that he chose such a powerful woman.
He thought of using you, at first, but eventually grew to accept you. You two were a team, and you would help him more than anyone in liberating order realm.
Given his backround, your abilities likely wouldn’t strike him as strange. He would be fascinated by how someone seeming so delicate held so much power in the palms of their hands.
Syzoth
Fascinated, in awe to say the least. He is absolutely gobsmacked by the sheer control you have over such abilities.
He almost felt like he was in the presence of a goddess, and felt slightly inferior. You had to tell him to stop formalities and to stop treating you like he isn’t worthy of you.
His nerves were erratic, when the time came to show his true form. He was worried you would be afraid, or dislike that form. Boy was he surprised, and in love, when you accepted him regardless of his true self.
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tinydefector · 2 days
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Hi hi hi can I please request shockwave (any ) using a holoform for the first time and he can’t stop kissing his human partner because he loves it so much..?
Holographic
Shockwave x human Reader
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings; none
____________________
Human eyes linger on Shockwave as he works in reattaching his holomatter device, their head Is tilted as they watch him as he tinkers with the gadget. "whatcha you doing?" They finally ask. They knew Shockwave worked on multiple projects but they didn't know what this one was. Shockwave's optic narrows slightly as he continues his work, focused on the project at hand. He doesn't immediately respond to the human's question, his attention fully absorbed by the task as he re attached it to his arm.
"I am working on a holo-matter projection," Shockwave finally replies, his voice monotone. "I am testing its capabilities and potential applications, as so far I've only been successful with maintaining it for less then a standard human hour." The human takes a step closer, their curiosity evident in their expression, as they linger watching him with full interest. "Holo-matter, That sounds fascinating. What exactly does it do?"
Shockwave briefly looks up from his work, his optic meeting their gaze. "Holo-matter projection involves the creation of three-dimensional objects using a combination of light and matter manipulation. It has various potential applications, such as creating realistic simulations, enhancing visual displays, or even constructing physical structures."
Their eyes widen with excitement as they take in Shockwave's explanation. The move even closer watching him reinstall it into his arm. "So, it's like creating solid objects out of thin air, Can you show me?" Shockwave pauses, considering the request. With a few swift movements, Shockwave activates the holo-matter projection device. This particular application of holo-matter is a deeply personal and significant aspect of his work, one that he has rarely shared with anyone.
"Accessing holo-matter technology for personal use is restricted," Shockwave responds, "However, in the interest of scientific observation, I can provide a limited demonstration." With a series of swift movements, Shockwave activates the holo-matter projection device, and a shimmering, translucent figure materialises before them. 
Their eyes widen in awe as they take in the holoform, their hands come up to cup his face. The human avatar looked nothing like they had expected, they were expecting a mad scientist yet shockwave looked rather normal. One of His eyes was a warm ember and the other was sticking ice blue. He looked rather handsome yet nothing like the real shockwave.
"Holoform is a specialised application of holo-matter technology. It allows me to project a visually and audibly convincing representation of myself, enabling interactions with the physical world. Most times it is used for blending in on organic planets, the only flaw in the device is time, they are limited in what they withstand"
Their gaze lingers on the holoform, their fascination evident. "So, it's like a holographic avatar that can interact with the environment?" Shockwave nods, his optic brightening slightly. "Indeed, the holoform possesses limited physicality, allowing for basic interactions. However, it primarily serves as a means for me to navigate and interact with the physical world while maintaining my primary form in a secure location."
Shockwave's ‘eyes’ flickers with surprise as their hands cup his holoform's face. The unexpected touch momentarily breaks through his normally composed demeanour, causing a faint ripple of uncertainty within him. He observes their expression, their eyes filled with genuine shock and curiosity.
"Your holoform... it's not what I expected," the human murmurs, their voice tinged with awe. "You look... different. Handsome." He has never given much thought to his appearance, as aesthetics have always been secondary to his scientific pursuits. The observation of his holoform's attractiveness is a concept that is foreign to him.
"I assure you, my holoform's appearance is designed for functionality rather than aesthetics," Shockwave responds, his voice remaining monotone despite the subtle ripple of uncertainty within him. 
They cup his face this time tracing the outline of the eyebrows, lips and just admiring how different it is. The feeling for Shockwave is strange, delightful. "Well if it means anything I happen to rather like your holoform" they giggle pressing a soft peck to his nose. 
"You... find my holoform appealing?" he repeats, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. The concept of someone finding his appearance appealing is entirely new to him. The touch leaves a faint imprint on his memory banks, triggering fragmented recollections from a time before, fractured memories flicker.
They continue smiling at him. "Anytime Shockwave, you should use this form more often, it's beautiful" they state, fingers continue to dance across his face. The notion of his holoform being beautiful is a foreign concept to him, but the sincerity in the human's voice leaves a lingering impact.
Before Shockwave can fully process their statement, the human's words are followed by a sudden and unexpected action. Shockwave's holoform leans in and presses a kiss upon their lips. As the kiss lingers, Shockwave's processor races, attempting to process the implications of this unexpected and illogical act of his own. 
After a brief, lingering moment, Shockwave slowly pulls away, his eyes flickering with a mix of emotions. "I... apologise, that was inappropriate," he says, his voice tinged with an uncharacteristic hesitance. "I... was testing a hypothesis."
The human's gaze meets his, their expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. "A hypothesis?" Shockwave's optic dims slightly as he gathers his thoughts, attempting to articulate his conflicting emotions. "I have been studying the nature of human emotions and their impact on decision-making. I sought to explore the effects of physical intimacy on the human psyche."
"You're more than welcome to kiss me again Shockwave" they laugh, eyes sparkling as they stand in his arms, they were tempted to tease him but decided against it. Shockwave's optic flickers, his processor turning gears as he thinks over their words and the genuine warmth in their laughter. 
With a subtle shift in his holoform's expression, Shockwave allows himself to lean in once again. His lips meet the human's in a soft yet lingering kiss, a moment of connection that speaks volumes of the emotions he struggles to fully comprehend, it was as if he had been hit with a train of emotions, many that to him were illogical.
As they stand in each other's embrace, the boundaries that once separated them begin to dissolve further. The scientific detachment that once defined Shockwave's existence gives way to a burgeoning desire for a deeper connection,he craves to kiss them more. In that moment, as their lips remain locked and their emotions mingle, Shockwave finds himself willingly forgetting the stance of logic.
They kiss him back eagerly, hand cupping his cheek as their lips move against his. Fingers toying with his hair. As their lips move against his, Shockwave finds himself instinctively responding, his holoform's arm encircling the human's waist. His own hand tentatively reaches up to rest against the back of their neck, his fingers gently tangling in their hair.
The touch and taste of the human consumes his senses, leaving Shockwave with a mixture of exhilaration and uncertainty. replaced by a growing desire to understand and embrace the complexities of these newfound emotions, to give what he could to them so willingly.
They nearly squeal as he pulls them closer, more giggles leave them as Shockwave continues kissing them. "Shockwave hahahah, having fun are you?" His optics flickers with a mix of surprise and amusement at the human's playful response. The sound of their laughter fills the air, leaving a lingering warmth within him. As they inquire about his enjoyment, a rare hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his lips.
"I... find this experience rather... enjoyable," he admits, his voice carrying a faint trace of amusement. "It is a deviation from my usual scientific pursuits, but I appreciate the connection and the emotions it elicits."
However, his momentary amusement is cut short as the holoform begins to fade away, leaving the human pouting in disappointment. Shockwave's features transition back to their usual stoic expression. "I apologise for the abrupt end," he says, his voice returning to its usual monotone. "The holoform has its limitations, and it cannot be sustained indefinitely."
The human's pout softens, their gaze meeting his with a mix of understanding and lingering affection. " could you lean down so I can give you another kiss?” The ask softly, Shockwave gives in almost instantly, letting them pepper small kisses along his helm. 
As Shockwave stands there he debates finally having the empurata reversed. It had never been something that had a logical reason to be done but now, it was only logical if he intended to have more kisses from them. along with finding a way to lengthen the holoforms time limit since they seemed to enjoy it.
"Shockwave you haven't short circuited on me have you?" They ask while looking up at his optics. A smile lingers on their lips. Shockwave's optic flickers as he processes the human's words, his thoughts momentarily interrupted by their playful inquiry. The smile that lingers on their lips tugs at something deep within him, a mixture of fondness and a newfound desire to explore the uncharted territories of emotion.
"I... apologise for the momentary interruption," he replies, his voice regaining its usual stoic tone. "There are matters that require my attention." As he gazes down at the human, his optic flickers with a mix of determination and a newfound vulnerability. The idea of reversing the empurata, of regaining the physical capacity to experience more intimate moments, becomes increasingly appealing. "However," he continues, his voice carrying a hint of hesitation, "I am enjoying this experience and would ask that we continue this arrangement.” They give him one last small kiss before finally pulling away. “I'd be more Than happy with that Shockwave” 
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wineauntie · 2 days
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evie and mom surprising Quinn with adoption papers🥺🥺
OH I LOVE THIS! (This is one longggg blurb, basically a fic without all the formalities)
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Also I wrote this in under 25 mins and it’s severely unedited due to it being 2am
universe masterlist
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Evie was seven when she asked if Quinn was her real dad. Your smart girl knew she looked nothing like Quinn and that Quinn was her ‘Winnie’ up until she’d started calling him dad when she was four.
You’d never actively hidden the fact Quinn wasn’t her dad, but Evie had never been fully interested in the fact or conversation at all.
She’d popped the question in the car on the way to school and despite your preparation for the day you knew would eventually come, you found yourself hurriedly taking Evie to a small diner nearby instead of school that day.
The two of you had sat down with hot chocolate and pancakes as you explained that Quinn wasnt her dad by blood, but he was her dad by heart, and that’s all that really mattered.
Evie was curious, she asked about her ‘blood dad’ and why she had never seen him. You treaded carefully around the subject, cautious so as not to hurt Evie in any shape or form.
Evie’s biological father was a horrible man whom once told that you were pregnant, had broken up with you, told you he was sleeping with your best friend, and then demanded you got rid of Evie, or ‘it’ as he’d called her.
You avoided saying any of this to Evie, simply saying that “he wasn’t ready to be a dad and then he had to go away.”
Evie looked a bit confused and as you expected a wave of questions from her, she shrugged saying “Dad was ready to be a dad.” And then proceeded to ask for more pancakes, knowing you’d give into her every whim at that moment.
After another plate of pancakes later, and the two of you cuddled side by side in a booth Evie had yawned, and curled into you, her voice small and tired as she whispered “I wish dad was my actual dad.”
Your heart cracked at her defeated voice, but a niggling thought arose in your head. A thought that pestered you to the point of restlessness, to the point where the world ceased to exist outside of your little family.
You’d told Quinn what had happened that day and he supported you whole heartedly, even going as far as having a one-on-one conversation with Evie about it. You allowed the both of them to talk in private only hearing snippets like “you’re my kid, bug, no blood will change that.”
And
“I love you too, now why don’t you go grab a movie and you, me and mom can go watch it?”
You spent days upon days mulling over the thought that lingered and grew exponentially by the hour and before you knew it, it was two weeks later and once again, you were driving Evie to school.
“Hey, Evie?” You asked tentatively. Your sweet little girl’s head bobbed up and down with a small hum as you pulled over the car to face her. “You know our talk we had about dad not being your blood dad?”
“And that dad is my heart dad!” Evie excitedly added, her teddy bear, Ted, held in one hand as her eyes twinkled. No matter how old she got, the teddy gifted to her by Quinn’s brothers, always accompanied her in the car on the way to school and remained there until she was collected afterwards.
“Exactly,” You smiled softly, your face completely losing any tension at your girl’s words. “Well, how would you like it if Dad became your real dad…your legal dad?”
The thought had been floating around for the past two weeks and it hadn’t been the first you’d thought of it. What you had with Quinn was undeniable– the two of you had been together for five and a half years, almost six years and he had become so ingrained in every aspect of your life and being.
He loved you to the moon and back, his care and love shining through with everything he did. He’d even gifted you a promise ring a year ago, an act of complete and pure commitment to you and Evie. Your daughter had gotten a small, dainty necklace, that mimicked the design of your ring.
Quinn was in it for the long run.
He knew it, and so did you.
“My legal dad?” Evie questioned, sounding out the sentence like an intricate problem.
“It means that he’ll sign an adoption paper, saying that the world recognises him to be your actual dad, and not just your heart dad. He’ll adopt you.”
“Mom?”
“Yes, darling?”
“Is that like what people do with dogs?”
You tilted her head at her question with a light laugh. “I suppose it is,” you shrugged.
“I like dogs…I want Dad to adopt me.”
And that was how you arrived at this very moment. It was the beginning of playoff season with the Canucks dominating their first game and Quinn playing incredibly.
The three of you had decided to have a nice family night with a dinner consisting of food you’d ordered in and a movie night, where the three of you would watch whatever Evie desired.
Evie was like a spring, bouncing up and down in her seat in excitement, glancing towards you every now and again. Your girl was smart, when you told her that you guys should surprise Quinn with adoption papers, she was all for it.
Quinn was chatting away to Evie and you all dinner, explaining the playoffs to Evie and catching up on the day with you.
Things were running smoothly under Evie eventually cried out and whipped her head towards you, unable to contain her excitement.
“Mom, can we do it now?!” She pleaded, her wanting eyes shattering any resolve you possessed.
“Do what?” Quinn paused his chewing and placed down his utensils, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Evie beamed at him as you handed a large envelope to your daughter. “What’s that, Bug?”
Evie, now holding the envelope, felt a sudden wash of doubt cross over her, her eyes flitting towards you in worry.
“It’s okay, my brave girl,” you murmured, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “Take your time.”
Quinn, unsettled by the sudden drop in Evie’s excitement looked ready to pounce into protective mode, with Evie wrapped safely in his arms. He remained quiet as you shot him a reassuring look, his gaze following Evie as she tread close to him.
“Dad?” Evie mumbled, her eyes pointed at her feet. Quinn felt his lips twitch up at the name. The name itself never failed to elicit the most glee-filled feeling he’d ever felt, and hearing it from Evie, his daughter, warmed his heart and soul.
“Yes, Bug?” He answered, his fingers lifting her chin carefully so that the two were looking at one another. His hand cupped her worried face, as he tried to rub soothing circles on her cheek. “Is everything okay?” He watched as Evie took a deep breath in before holding out the envelope.
“This is for you,” she explained meekly, glancing at you for support before focusing back on her feet.
“Me?” Quinn mused, cautiously taking the it from her. His fingers flipped open the unsealed envelope, pulling out a set of papers, neatly paper clipped together. His eyes scanned the first few words, which were big and bold across the top.
APPLICATION FOR ADOPTION ORDER
Quinn’s jaw went slack, his eyes immediately jumping to you, as you bit your lip nervously, urging him to react.
“You…me…you want me to adopt you?” Quinn’s raspy voice cracked as he refocused his attention on Evie.
“Not like a dog, but like my actual dad,” Evie supplied as if she was teaching him to understand it. She turned to you as you graced her with a smile for remembering what the two of you had talked about.
You didn’t often see Quinn cry. He wasn’t much of a crier you see. When he got upset, he got tired or quiet, so when tears tumbled down his cheeks you and Evie were lost in what to do.
“Oh no, we made dad upset,” Evie whimpered, looking at you in panic and devastation.
“No…no! I’m not upset,” Quinn choked out, his hands dropping the papers as he moved to fully face the small girl. “I’m just…I’m really grateful, Bug…this is, it’s just…thank you.”
Quinn captured Evie in a tight hug, her head burying itself into the crook of his neck as it once had whenever she was younger. Her own little arms had thrown themselves around his neck, clutching onto him as if he’d disappear if she didn’t.
You watched, with your own hot tears spilling over onto the cushion of your cheeks as your daughter hugged her dad. Watching the two together seemed to mend whatever your ex/Evie’s dad had broken inside of you.
“Mom, come join,” Evie’s muffled voice called out from its position. That was all it took for you to rush towards your family, enveloping they both in a tight hug. You watched as Quinn lifted his face, his reddened eyes, filled with love and happiness meeting your encouraging ones.
“You’re sure about this?” Quinn whispered to you and only you. He loved the two of you more than words could ever deny, there was no buts about it. He just wanted to be sure that you were one hundred percent certain on it.
You pressed your lips to his, feeling the saltiness of his tears against his plump lips before slowly drawing away to lean your forehead against his.
“I have never been more sure of anything.”
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supercalime · 13 hours
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hellooo, fellow bucktommy shipper (and casual b*ddie enjoyer, if it weren't for the horrors...) here! i really liked your take on b*ddie st*ns and how they are now making super wild assumptions based on some latest interviews.
you know one thing that irks me? somehow nobody seems to talk about is the fact that in canon, buck isn't written to be in love with eddie at all. like, can we please talk about this??? because I'm all for Death Of The Author. OS can talk about ships all he wants but in the end, only the canon narrative matters to me personally. i've watched long-form content with endgame couples being set up in the pilot episodes who become canon many seasons later (bones, castle, grey's anatomy, the mentalist, etc.), and the entire point of such couples is to establish that, yes, they have been having romantic feelings all this time since day one. they do so very very obviously. there is zero subtlety or room for questioning.
one of the most common tropes is to give one or both characters (of the endgame couple) another love interest so that the endgame couple can be full of jealousy and pettiness every time that other love interest is mentioned or shown. having another love interests always endangers the original closeness of the endgame couple, and then the breakup propels the endgame couple forward in their relationship. the love interest is always used for comparisons, to make it abundantly clear that everybody else is lacking in some way. at no point in 911 did they do so with buck and eddie??? these dudes go through various romantic relationships, and never ever has it been any issue to the b*ddie dynamic. never was it talked about. never were hints dropped that one of them is jealous. even now, with bucktommy, eddie shows not a single ounce of jealously. on the other side, look at how they showed us buck being obviously jealous because eddie monopolized tommy's time even though buck wanted tommy time himself! buck couldn't stand the jealousy even a little bit, and he ended up literally hurting his bestie because of it. but whenever eddie is involved romantically and sexually with someone, there are zero signs that buck is bothered or threatened or jealous. they both seem super chill? they do not question at any point that them dating other people might hurt their relationship? logically, that must mean buck's never wanted to be romantically or sexually involved with eddie (and vice versa). at it's core, b*ddie has been written as a friendship. to this day, we have no canon proof for anything else.
i would not hate b*ddie to happen or anything. i do enjoy b*ddie fics (those that aren't super misogynist ♥). and i think it could be a great couple if done well! but as you said, even when buck thought eddie was hot... well, so what? that's literally just an objective observation. RG is handsome based on societal standards. chim and hen also immediately acknowledged that eddie was hot in 2x01, and both of them are Not At All romantically or sexually attracted to eddie either. nobody is questioning chim's or hen's sexuality based on the comments they made about eddie being hot. because nothing about this equals real romantic feelings or the desire to be in a relationship. the fandom understands that logic just fine with chim and hen. why not with buck, though? also, we have yet to see a reversed moment for eddie staring at buck and finding him hot. they had no problem to show eddie Immediately having a crush on ana flores when he first met her. this shows that eddie feels sexual attraction just fine. he was, however, never shown in canon to feel it for buck.
also interesting: even though buck found eddie hot when they first met, it did not trigger buck to seriously question his sexuality at any point in the past like, 5 years or so. in all those years of canon b*ddie friendship, the show has never used the plethora of opportunities to propel b*ddie into romantic or sexual territory. the show could have! but the show never did, so i refuse to let b*ddie st*ns or OS retcon this. if it's not in the canon material, it isn't canon. with tommy, it took only a couple of weeks and a handful of interactions for buck to reach a point of clarity about his sexuality. the most logical deduction imo is that buck simply clocked that eddie's hot (like everybody else, duh, he isn't special in that regard), and it's never meant anything deep.
my only real probem with this entire situation is how hardcore b*ddie st*ns are now using this as a justification to harass others even more (especially bucktommy shippers). i'd love to enjoy canon bucktommy and fanon b*ddie in peace! but the hate that b*ddie st*ns are spreading everywhere again (like with every new season and newly introduced love interest) is so overwhelming.
sorry for the long ass rant btw oopsie. feel free to ignore this. i just wanted to let it out and it seemed like you would understand. anyway, thanks for reading in case you got this far!
I’d never ignore a sensible take, anon! (I feel bad that you had to go anon but I understand. We know the drill by now, some stans are scary lol)
But like, ALL OF THIS!!!
Discourse like this is what takes away the enjoyment of media for me. It sucks that fandom experience can have two very extreme opposing sides, specially when it comes to two “competing” ships. You can kinda tell by how bucktommy shippers behave (I’m not trying to flex at all because I am one. A good majority of us has zero problem with b*ddie endgame even though we prefer the other. We like what we are getting and are happy to see this storyline play out) compared to b*ddie shippers (of course not all of them, I’m talking about the entitled ones. That clog comment sections, bother actors, go to the other ships tag to complain about it and say how their preferred ship is better, etc).
Im not immune to bad takes and bad fan behavior. Ive surely acted like these stans in other fandoms and i do regret it, so i hate seeing it happen again and again, no matter where i go.
Not to quote mean girls, but I wish we could all get along…
All that being said, whichever ship “wins”, it’s no one’s call but the writers and producers of the show. Someone told me that Tim writes for himself and doesn’t take outside factors (at least to an extent cause it’s impossible to not know the fan reaction) into consideration when it comes to where he wants the story to go.
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