#the kitchen is gonna have a really nice blue stripe

[answer2jeff]

' treat me tonight '

a/n: this is (debatably) some of the best smut i've ever written but i'm still new to the field ! give ya girl some suggestions if desired.

song : i know we could be so happy baby.

warnings : fluffy smut, fem!reader, oral (fem receiving), piv sex (unprotected), both reader and carmen have a bit of a praise kink, brief hairpulling, the "L-word," established relationship, gets a little rough towards the end, back scratching, porn with no real plot. not proofread

word count: 2.6k+

MDNI : i am not responsible for your media consumption.

NSFW under the cut — last warning!

"Try it," Carmen cupped your jaw as he lifted the wooden spoonful of creamy, tomato soup to your mouth, thumbing your bottom lip gently so you could carefully swallow every last bit. He enjoyed feeding you, if he was being totally honest. Even if this had been upon your request. Making his girl happy with what he did best was nothing short of a blessing to him.

"Mmm," you hummed in amusement, swallowing before smiling contently and nodding your head. "'S great, Carmy. Fuckin' delicious."

Long days at work dealing with insensitive clientele and immature coworkers seemed to be so easily remedied by Carmen's cooking. You weren't sure if it was because it was him catering to you and loving you the one way he always knew how, or if the food was just that fucking amazing. Maybe a little bit if both.

"Yeah? Alright," he chuckled a bit, grabbing the ladle beside the pot and scooping the simple, yet beautifully crafted tomato soup into a ceramic bowl. He seemed to know exactly how you liked it, despite him asking you if you enjoyed it every. single. time.

You accepted the bowl with a sickly sweet smile on your face, giving Carmen a kiss on his clean shaven cheek to thank him for his gesture before hoisting yourself up onto the kitchen counter. Carmen just stood with his arms crossed against his chest as he leaned against the dining table, candidly watching you enjoy the warm bowl of soup

"So," you slurped some of the soup as you paused, "I'm thinkin' of giving Syd that top we found the other day."

Thrifting had become of recent liking to you anD Carmen. Just shopping and mooching around Chicago in search of vintage pieces. Mostly to actually wear, but partly to collect or regift to fellow friends. Last time you two had a day off, you found a beautiful vintage button down. A white base with downward blue stripes with a finely stitched breast pocket containing a 'V' pattern. The cuffs were cinched perfectly. It was a little baggy, too, which you knew Sydney would love.

"Ooh, yeah. I, uh, I really liked that. I think she'd really love it," Carmen nodded, "You gonna get 'er somethin' else with it? Like, to pair with it? Or just the shirt?"

"I was gonna ask you to help me with that, actually," you pointed a finger to Carmen, turning away for just a moment to gently place the empty bowl and spoon into the kitchen sink.

Carmen always thought you had a good eye for other people's tastes. Not just in fashion. The world seemed unpredictable to Carmy. But you made it look so easy, so loving to just know what people wanted. He always wished he had that kind of understanding for people. But for now, he'd admire such a trait you had.

"Hm?"

"I remember she mentioned something about having all these cool tops n' jackets and such, but, like—hardly any nice pants other than those fuckin' jeans she loves."

"Mhm," he stepped closer to you and planted his hands on your shoulders. But you soon reached for them and planted them on your hips, earning a little upward curl of his lip.

"I know you loved those nice jeans like they were your babies 'till you had to sell them," you frowned, entangling your fingers in his messy, blonde curls while your other hand rested on the back of his neck.

"Fuck, I know. Really wish I didn't have to," he tried to let out a breathy laugh to compensate for the genuine disappointment.

Fuck, did he love those pants. Pants were the one piece of fashion Carmen didn't have to second guess himself on. From jeans to slacks, he knew how to pair every possible fabric. And he never knew how to flatter the upper half of his body, so he always wore those dammed white t-shirts.

Not that you were complaining.

Especially right now, the t-shirt highlighting his broad shoulders and exposing his thick arms plastered with sentimental tattoos you always loved. You began to run your hands up and down the exposed skin. He glanced down at your patterned touch, flattered.

"Yeah, yeah. Well, anyway, I need you to help me look for a nice pair of jeans for Sydney. Can y'do that for me, hun?"

Carmen nodded rapidly, his eyes drifting from your lips and back into your eyes. His thumbs rubbed intricate little circles of adoration into your thighs.

"Yeah, baby," he smiled. "This weekend, maybe? I can take a couple hours," tilting his head, he held your chin to pull your face just inches away from his own. Something about your tendencies to make the ones you loved happy with little surprises just warmed him.

"Mhm. That works," you sighed, planting a soft kiss on his lips before wrapping your arms around his neck.

Carmens immediate suggestion just struck something in you. Months ago, he would've thrown excuse after excuse (although valid) as to when he couldn't be available, but never when he could. You felt proud of him.

"You're so good to me, Carmen."

"Yeah?"

He was learning. He was loving.

"Mhm," you barred your bottom lip behind your teeth, giving Carmen's arms a squeeze. He exhaled sharply and wondered where this could've been going.

You drove him a little crazier than he ever liked to admit. A delicate hand reached away from your hip and up to your face. He thumbed your bottom lip, the reflection of the kitchen light shining against your mouth that was glossy with a mix of both of your salivas. Carmen gazed at you in awe, a little embarrassed when he realized how long he'd been staring.

"I—" he shrugged, struggling to find the words, "I'd do it all for you, baby."

Whispering back as he began to cave in, he leaned into your neck and placing an opened mouth kiss on the skin. The smell of your perfume and the natural scent of your body was so familiar to him. It distracted him enough to let his hands roam up and down your torso before repeating that same motion on your thighs.

"Want you t.." you swallowed, your eyes shutting harshly when when he sucked a bruising hickey onto your skin.

"Want me to what, sweet girl?" Carmen mumbled, the butterflies in your stomach raging when his teeth grazed against the spot. You gently anchored your hand into his hair and pulled him away from your neck so you could see him again.

"Want you to treat me tonight," you whispered as your hands travled up to his shoulders.

He wished you could be more specific. But with your pretty eyes, your kiss-swollen lips, your thighs spread against the cold marble counter as they spilled out of your cotton shorts, how could he tease you any longer?

"That I can do."

—

Carmens body seemed to loosen up and relax as his rough hand slid down lower on your back to grab at the waistband of your shorts. You practically melted to his touch. He kissed you again, smiling against your lips as you giggled into the kiss once he slid your shorts down to your ankles. You nodded when he pulled away, ensuring him that he was on the right track.

"Need you t'spread, baby," his hand pried between your soft thighs.

"O—okay," You bit the inside of your cheek as you slowly spread your legs apart. The wet spot of arousal in the middle of your panties was completely in view now. Feeling Carmen's eyes drifting downward, you accidentally drew your knees closer together again.

"Hey," Carmen whispered while he looked into your eyes for an answer, despite your gaze being glued to the floor.

"You okay? We don't have to do thi—"

"No, no," you shook your head, "I want to. Just..not used to it. That's all."

It was true. You'd only tried oral about twice. And it went great, you couldn't deny. But you still struggled to literally open yourself up to him. You just needed a little encouragement.

"You don't have to hide, baby. You look—you are beautiful," he kissed your forehead, "so, so beautiful. Okay?"

Finally feeling some reassurance, you tried again. You spread your legs once again and let Carmen peel your soaked panties down your legs to where your shorts had been. He gave you one last look to see if you were ready, to which you happily nodded.

In the sweetest gesture, Carmen removed his own t-shirt so you wouldn't be alone. He unbuttoned his jeans and tossed them somewhere near the dining table, being left in just his boxers that outlined his slowly hardening cock.

"Thank you," you chuckled.

"Of course."

Carmen began trailing kisses from your neck down to your shoulder blade. His hands gently lifted your tank top over your head before cupping one of your breasts, his fingertips playing with your hard nipple as he kissed you one last time. He sank down to his knees, hooking your calves over his shoulders. You scooted a little closer to the edge of the counter to give him the best access to your throbbing cunt.

"Yep. Right here, baby."

He had you exactly where he wanted you.

You finally looked down at him after avoiding direct eye contact for the past few minutes. His blue eyes fully encapsulated you. He looked gorgeous between your thighs. Especially when he sucked little hickeys that wouldn't actually last against your inner thighs that made you squirm.

"You look pretty like this, bear," your hand reached to brush a loose curl out of his face. The flush that colored his pale cheeks was cute.

"You think so?" Carmen grinned. He relished in the feeling of having such gentle yet everlasting control. In his own kitchen, his beautiful girl in his hands, her thighs around his head, fully willing and wanting to let him take every part of her he could ever imagine.

You were nothing short of perfect to him.

Not wanting to waste any more time, and without preamble, he licked a bold stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit. Your breath hitched in your throat when his grip on your thighs tightened. He started to create a sense of rhythm, roughly sucking on the sensitive mound of nerve endings before soothing it with kitten licks and flat-tongued strides.

Your hand tugged at a handful of his curls. He groaned at the sensation, swirling his tongue around you to feel every fucking inch of your pussy.

"Fuck, Carmy..."

"You got the prettiest pussy, baby. So good and wet for me," he mumbled against you, his eyes still remaining closed. He needed to focus, or else he might fall apart at the sight of pure, filthy pleasure on your pretty face.

"Shut up—" you protested.

Your thighs began to shake as your head reeled back. Carmen hesitated for a moment, wiggling his fingers around anxiously before pulling his mouth away from your vulva and ever so carefully slipping in 2 large fingers.

A long, drawn out moan escaped your mouth the moment he curled his fingers upward into your g-spot. The idea of staying quiet was out of the fucking question. Oh, and now that Carmen's tongue was back on you? Forget it.

"Oh my fucking g—fuck!" you smacked your hand over your mouth, your other hand still entangled in your lovers hair. Pulling and tugging and earning the sexiest groans you'd ever heard in your life.

The sound of your voice slowly raising in pitch was enough for Carmen to change his pace. He inched himself even closer, and at an otherworldly speed flicked his tongue repeatedly against your clit. Over. And over. And over again. But his fingers slowed down to avoid overstimulating you. He needed this to last. Blissfully.

The knot in your stomach that indicated your teeter against your orgasm taunted you.

"Carm, I'm—" you took a short breath moaning incohereant babbles along the lines of 'so fuckin' good, just like that, baby' until you blurted, "I'm probably not gonna last any longer..'S too much."

You'd grown so desperate to cum that your hips ground back and forth, the tip of Carmens tongue perfectly brushing against your sensitive clit while he used the hand that was once fucking you to squeeze the fat of your breast. With his other hand, he reached down to palm his throbbing cock through the thin fabric of his boxers. He pulled his erection out from the cloth and stroked himself slowly, the final moan of "fuck," shortly followed by your name before he harshly sucked on your clit once more, was enough to throw you over the edge.

"Oh, fuck, Carmy!"

After the last couple minutes of him practically making out with your pussy, your body finally allowed itself to release, your legs shaking vigourisly as you tried desparately to catch your breath. You could literally feel a pulse-like sensation on your clit from the orgasm.

It was dirty, filthy; cumming on Carmen's pretty face right on top of his kitchen counter.

But fuck, was it hot.

—

"You think you got another one left in there for me, baby?" Carmen cooed, wrapping your legs around his hips and drawing you in so close that your breasts were pressed against his bare chest. He peppered kisses along your jaw until he resided on your lips, his tongue slipping in to create a sloppy, passionate mess of a kiss.

His clothed hard-on pressed against your clit, which was nearly fully recovered, lacking the overwhelming sensitivity it had just a couple minutes ago.

"Maybe you should find out," you teased against his ear, nipping at the skin of his neck right underneath. You gently pressed your hand against his chest, backing him up just the slightest bit so you could slip his pre-cum soaked boxers with ease.

Without another thought, Carmen carefully lined himself up with your pussy. The head of his dick passed between your folds to build anticipation. Your hands gripped his shoulders, slippery with sweat, once he finally began to push his raw cock into your hole, your arousal serving as a perfect lubricant.

"Fuck," he rasped as he watched his cock disappear into your pussy in awe "so fuckin' tight for me. So pretty n' perfect."

The two of you hardly waited to allow every thrust and slap of skin against skin get messy and rough. With Carmen desperately needing to cum and you anxiously needing to feel him inside of you, there wasn't much consideration for a slow fuck.

"Fuck me, Carmen."

With that, Carmen dug his hands into your hips and pulled several inches out of you before slamming back in. You somehow moaned louder every time. His face contorted to pure, ravenous pleasure and lust as moan and groan after groan writhed from his throat. Your nails clawed at his back, earning a "shit," and his teeth sinking into your shoulder as you ground back and forth against him to achieve the perfect thrusting angle.

"I love you," he whimpered, fucking whimpered his adoration for you. He was completely pussy drunk, his thrusts turning fast and short unlike they were when they started out.

Those words made your heart pound in your head. Sure, you'd exchanged 'I love you's' during the last year or so of your relationship, but you couldn't recall a time it was said during rough-kitchen-counter-sex.

"I love you so fuckin' much, Carm," you sobbed in a fit of utter horniness and overwhelming sense of pleasure, feeling Carmen's thick cock and squeezing your warm, gummy walls around him.

"I'm gonna cum, angel, I—"

"I know, baby. Go ahead. W-want you to fill me up."

Almost as if the universe had been working specifically in your favor, you managed to reach your orgasm just seconds before he did. Every drop of your arousal went down his thigh, while his cum perfectly filled up your cunt. He pulled out slowly watching the white and sticky semen drip down your hole.

"Was that your idea of me 'treating you' tonight?"

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto smut #the bear smut #jeremy allen white #ugh i love him #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader smut #the bear x reader #i actually love how this turned out

[tervaneula]

Yuichi hadn’t expected to run into two of his best friends from Neo Edo at the Hidden City markets and he definitely didn’t expect the direction the conversation had eventually taken. 

"You're dating a ninja?!" Chizu laughs so hard her breath wheezes and Kitsune stifles a snort into her sleeve. Yuichi's cheeks flush crimson under his fur. 

"W-what's so funny about that? You're a ninja!" 

"Yes, but I'm not dating an idiot samurai," Chizu says. That makes Kitsune burst into laughter, right in Yuichi's face. 

"Oh my gosh, Chizu is right. What does that guy see in you? Is he as big of an idiot as you are? When are you gonna introduce us?!" 

Yuichi resists the urge to pull his ears over his eyes and pretend this conversation never happened when he catches a glimpse of a familiar shade of blue against green on the other side of the street. Leonardo is tall and it's not hard to spot him in a crowd, even among yokai. 

"Well uh, you're just about to meet him," he mutters, desperately wishing for the heat on his cheeks to cool down. It’s not too obvious say, to a stranger, but Leonardo most definitely isn’t one and he can't have the red-eared slider see right away how embarrassed his friends are able to make him. "And he's not an idiot!" 

Kitsune just laughs but her eyes are sparkling with curiosity. Chizu seems interested as well and Yuichi thanks his lucky stars that she's quick to calm down, he doesn't know what he would do if both of his friends were unable to behave in front of his new boyfriend. Luckily (or not) he doesn’t have time to fully spiral into a flustered panic when a voice calls out to him. 

“Yuichi!” 

He turns towards the approaching turtle and can’t help but smile at the sight of him. The answering grin on the striped face is stupidly handsome and Yuichi forgets all about fighting down the blush on his face. He’s smitten, so what? If he wasn’t already flushed he certainly would be now and Leonardo deserves to see how much he likes him, actually. Something in him settles and the rabbit is certain that despite their teasing, his friends will love Leonardo. 

—

“Your friends seem nice,” Leonardo hums on their walk back to Yuichi’s house. The slider had offered to portal him home but instead, Yuichi had asked for a walk and invited him over for a cup of tea. He wasn’t quite ready for the day to end yet. 

“Glad you think so,” he smiles, “they really liked you. Not that it was a surprise.” 

Leonardo looks a little taken aback by that but he just chuckles and leans against the wall as Yuichi fishes for his keys. He looks a bit tired and the rabbit wonders if it’s the phantom pains again. Well, nothing a big cup of his auntie’s tea won’t help soothe, he smiles softly to himself as the door clicks open and he gives a little bow to the turtle. 

“Ladies first!” he jokes, and Leonardo laughs. He ruffles Yuichi’s hair on his way past him and the rabbit sticks his tongue out at him. He might be over forty but age will never stop him from being the impulsive little shit that he has always been. Leonardo, with surprising grace, pretends not to notice and slips on the guest slippers before quickly snatching Yuichi’s bag from his shoulder and disappearing into the kitchen to unload the groceries, humming a tune Yuichi can’t place. 

"You two seem like a good match." 

Yuichi turns to look at Chizu. She's looking at Leonardo and Kitsune squabbling over the last piece of mochi, a thoughtful expression on her face. 

"What?" 

"You heard me," she chuckles, shifting her amber eyes to Yuichi. There's a softness in them that takes the rabbit off guard. 

"He's a true leader. A brilliant strategist with charisma to match. I can tell. But there's also the burden that comes with it," she lowers her voice toward the end. "He's been through hell – don't look at me like that, he didn't say much but what he did say was enough for me to connect the dots – and this is where you come in. He needs to goof around and be stupid, things that were taken from him too early. He needs to be looked at with fresh eyes, to be loved for who he is now and not for the role he was born to fulfil – and who else is better suited for that than our very own silly rabbit?" 

Yuichi belatedly realises his jaw is hanging open and he closes his mouth with a click. Chizu has always been bright, brighter than anyone else in their little found family, maybe save for Karasu-Tengu, but despite the obvious parallels between the two he was not expecting her to jump right into analysing the mutant turtle to the core on their first meeting. As dense as he may be, it doesn’t slip past him how most of the things Chizu said were very true for her all those years back. 

"And how is he good for you, in turn?" the cat's eyes glimmer as her mouth twists into a smirk. "He can lend you some of those brain cells you so very desperately need." 

Yuichi groans and punches her on the shoulder. She doesn't even flinch, brushing it off with a grin. 

Yuichi closes the door behind him slowly, staring after his boyfriend. Chizu's words echo in his mind, I'm happy for you, and his chest feels odd. Full and tight and so, so warm. 

He takes a deep breath and feels the expected burst of butterflies settle into something new, calm and gentle. It’s a feeling he hasn’t felt before but somehow he knows what it means. 

He can’t wait to feel it more. 

#eyyyyy it's me the sappiest sap #here's some silly feelings #they're middle-aged and in love and that's actually so important #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rottmnt fanart #rottmnt fanfiction #leoichi #leochi #not leosagi #samurai rabbit #usagi chronicles #future leonardo #future leo #usagi yuichi #tervdraws #tervdrabbles #nqk #nqk adjacent #uhhh did i say this was 650 words? i might've lied a little #aaoooaaaa not beta read pls don't come at me im just a lil finn trying to english

[summerslashers]

Dinner: Thomas Hewitt x Reader

PART ONE | PART TWO

Summary: You have dinner at the Hewitt House. (takes place during tcm the beginning well before the cannibalism)

Warnings: Charlie/Hoyt, Swearing

Author’s Note: This took so long pls forgive me. This is the end of this short series but I will write more small stories that are based off of this series where you live across the street from Tommy :)

You stood on the porch of the Hewitt home with two thick oven mitts protecting your hands and a hot apple pie fresh out of the oven. You just barely had enough time to make a nice dessert without being late, but you didn’t want to show up empty handed after the polite invitation you received. You stood there awkwardly for a moment, trying to figure out how you were going to knock on the door without a free hand to do so. Suddenly, as if someone had read your mind, the door swung open to reveal Thomas.

He was dressed nicely in a button up shirt with a striped tie and a pair of khaki pants. He looked clean, his curly hair soaking wet as if he had just stepped out of a shower. You looked up into his soft blue eyes, a blush warming your cheeks as he gazed at you gently.

“Hi Thomas.” You smiled up at him. “You look really handsome.”

Tommy felt his cheeks grow warm at your sweet compliment, his eyes glancing off to the side and fingers twitching at his sides anxiously. You always made him flustered with your pretty smile and kind words. It was nice.

He stepped aside politely to give you room to come inside, a silent invitation that you gladly accepted. He used a strong arm to hold the door open for you and you joined him in the house, thanking him for the kind gesture.

The inside of Thomas’ home seemed just as big as the outside. It was huge- much bigger than your own small home- with tall ceilings and a large, open foyer. Immediately, there was a delicious, garlicy smell in the air that made your hungry stomach growl, and you could hear the clattering of pots and pans coming from the kitchen in the distance.

“Your house is so nice.” You smiled at Thomas, but before you had the chance to say anything else, an unfamiliar man rounded the corner dressed in a pair of blue jean overalls and a plain baseball cap. He was old- much older than Thomas.

“Well I’ll be fuckin’ damned, Tommy! You didn’t tell me you had a fuckin’ girlfriend!” He grinned, giving Thomas a firm pat on the back. “And she brought dessert too! Shit, I like her already!”

You laughed, and Tommy was sure he had never heard a more beautiful sound in his entire life. Your eyes met his and he swore his heart skipped two beats. It wasn’t a mocking laugh- no. It was a happy, joyful laugh. He couldn’t help but look away again, a cute pink tint to his cheeks that peeked out from behind the black leather mask.

“Oh, mama’s gonna want to meet you.” He smiled, and there was something just a bit off-putting about it. “Mama! Our guest is here!”

“Now I done told you to quit yellin’ in the house, Charlie.” A woman came from what you assumed was the kitchen, scolding the man who simply rolled his eyes in response, muttering a half-hearted apology.

The older woman was dressed modestly, her blonde-gray hair pulled up into a gentle updo and a pair of glasses rested on the bridge of her nose. There were deep wrinkles on her face, her expression stern with furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. Beads of sweat were forming on her forehead- a result of working in the hot kitchen you were sure. Her expression seemed to soften when she noticed you standing next to Tommy shyly, still holding the hot pie.

“Now aren’t you just the sweetest thing?” She smiled warmly. “You must be y/n.”

“Yes ma’am.” You returned the kind smile. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“You can call me Luda Mae.” She looked down at the pie in your hands. “Come join me in the kitchen and we can set that down.”

You nodded, smiling back at Thomas before following Luda Mae into the kitchen and setting your apple pie down as instructed. You were relieved to finally take the hot oven mitts off of your hands, and you set them off to the side where they wouldn’t get in the way. It was then that you noticed the small vase with the wildflowers you had gifted earlier that day with a soft smile on your lips.

Luda Mae turned away to stir a pot on the stove, adding what looked to be salt and pepper to whatever it was she was making. It still smelled wonderful.

“Not often we get new folk ‘round here,” she spoke as she made her way around the kitchen, working quickly to finish things up. “Almost didn’t believe it when word got out that someone moved into that house-” She chuckled softly before continuing.

“And you’ve been so kind to my boy, Tommy.”

You smiled brightly. “Thomas is wonderful. I was so nervous to introduce myself earlier, but he was really sweet about everything.”

“He’s a real nice boy,” Luda Mae gushed, happy that someone else could appreciate her son just as much as she did. “Been treated poorly his whole life- nothin’ but cruelty and ridicule from folk that don’t take the time to know or understand him. Never did nothin’ to deserve it either. It’s nice to see someone finally treatin’ him the way he ought to be.”

“I could never be mean to Thomas.” You spoke fondly of the man, your brows furrowed sadly at the thought that he had been mistreated. “He’s too kind.”

Luda Mae smiled softly and hummed in agreement, turning off the stove and setting the pot aside on a cold burner where it could cool down a bit. She turned to face you, her eyes wandering down to the apple pie you made. It turned out just shy of perfect. The crust was golden brown and it had a crunchy cinnamon sugar crumble on the top.

“Thank you for providin’ dessert.” She smiled at you warmly. “Nice of you to go through the trouble of doin’ that.”

“I didn’t want to seem rude,” you smiled shyly. “It wouldn’t feel right showing up with nothing after your nice invitation.”

“Well that’s awful’ polite of you.”

You smiled, looking around the messy kitchen for a moment. “Is there anything I can help with?”

“You really are just the sweetest thing,” she said. “How about you help Tommy set the table while I clean this mess in here.”

You nodded in agreement, glad that you could be of some help.

“Thomas Brown Hewitt, get in here and go help set the table,” she said firmly as she set a stack of wide rim soup bowls, silverware, and napkins down on the countertop beside you.

The man lumbered into the room, his eyes meeting yours. You smiled at him softly as he walked over to you, picking up the bowls and silverware that suddenly seemed a lot smaller in his large hands.

“I’ll get these,” you grabbed napkins before turning to face the large man. “Will you show me where the dining room is?”

He nodded, waiting and making sure you were ready before leading the way. He guided you through the house to a large, open room. In the center was a large dining table with an elegant table cloth and white lace table runner. Above the table were high ceilings and a chandelier style light. There were six chairs around the table, and at each spot at the table there was an empty glass. You silently wondered if there were one or two more people you hadn’t met yet.

You moved to stand next to Thomas as he set the bowls and silverware down on the table. You did the same with the napkins. You both reached for the stack of bowls, your fingertips brushing together for a moment. The two of you looked up at one another and retracted your hands slightly, a small laugh escaping your lips as your cheeks grew warm.

“Sorry,” you smiled and awkwardly gestured for him to go first.

You and Thomas spent the next few minutes working together to set the table in comfortable silence, exchanging glances every so often. Each time your eyes would meet you would smile at him warmly, something that made his heart flutter and cheeks turn pink.

As the two of you finished, Luda Mae called for Charlie and another man named Monty, letting them know that dinner was ready before entering the room. She set the large pot of what you could now see was stew onto the table. Neither Thomas nor Luda Mae had taken their seat yet, and you were still waiting for Charlie and Monty, so you stood politely to the side near Thomas to wait for further instruction.

After a short moment, the unfamiliar man, Monty, entered the room. He looked to be close to Luda Mae’s age with lots of deep wrinkles on his face and gray hair peeking out from beneath his baseball cap. His eyes met yours from behind his glasses and you offered a small wave.

“Y/n, this is my brother Monty.” Luda Mae said, noticing your silent interaction.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You offered a polite smile.

“Somethin’ smells damn good, mama!” Charlie announced loudly as he entered the room, standing above what you assumed to be his chair at the head of the table, resting a hand on the polished wood. “Now everyone take your seats and bow your damn heads so we can say grace.”

Luda Mae shot him a disapproving glance and shook her head, but said nothing as everyone began to take their seats. You ended up sitting between Thomas and the empty chair at the end of the table, silently grateful that Thomas had put himself between you and Charlie.

“Now,” Charlie said, still standing tall and proud at the head of the table. “Let us give thanks for this meal which the Lord has provided us. Bow your heads.”

After the short prayer, everyone passed their bowls to the front where Charlie put a generous helping of stew in each one. Soon, everyone had their food and a tall glass of water in front of them, and it was finally time to eat. You were so hungry after a long day of unpacking at home and the stew looked absolutely delicious. It was steaming hot and contained large chunks of meat, plenty of vegetables, and potatoes all sitting in a thick broth. Everyone began eating and as expected, it was delicious.

“Thank you so much for dinner.” You said to Luda Mae, who was sitting across from you. “It’s very good.”

“Why thank you, dear.” She smiled. “It’s a pleasure havin’ you here with us.”

“Thank you.” You smiled back shyly. “It’s really nice being here.”

The two of you continued to make small talk over dinner, the men at the table remaining mostly quiet as they ate their food. The only exception was the occasional comment or question from Charlie who always seemed to have something unpleasant to say. Even then, you were happy with how well everything was going with your new neighbors.

After everyone had finished their meal, you and Luda Mae went to the kitchen where you brought out dessert and plates to serve it on. You gave each person a large piece of your apple pie and everyone seemed happy to indulge. You were given several compliments. Even Monty told you that it was good and he hadn’t said a word for the entire meal. Thomas, on the other hand, didn't need to say anything. You could always see the gratitude in his eyes when he looked at you. It made you smile.

Soon, everyone was done with dessert, and the table was littered with dirty plates, crumpled up napkins, and empty cups. Charlie excused himself from the table, and Monty did the same, both carrying a stack of dirty dishes to the kitchen. It was just you, Luda Mae, and Thomas.

“Would you like me to help you with the dishes, ma’am?” You asked Luda Mae as you placed your own dishes, silverware, and napkins into a neat stack in front of you.

“Don’t you worry about that, dear.” She said appreciatively. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Are you sure?”

“‘Course I’m sure.” She smiled, standing up from her seat. You and Thomas did the same. “Besides, it’s gettin’ late. Tommy, how’s about you walk with her ‘n make sure she gets home safe.”

Thomas nodded his head with sincerity in his eyes and body language. Of course he would keep you safe. He wanted to be by your side, to protect you and care for you.

You smiled up at him. “Thank you, Thomas. That would be really nice.”

You stood in the foyer at the front door with Thomas at your side, and Luda Mae returned your cookie platter, empty pie plate, and oven mitts.

“Thank you so much for everything,” you smiled at the woman. “It was really nice meeting everyone and the meal was wonderful.”

“Thank you, dear. It’s been a pleasure havin’ you here with us.” She looked at Thomas. “You get her home safe now.”

With that, you and Tommy were on your way, walking side by side down the long driveway towards your house. The sun had just gone down, the orange sunset fading away and darkening into the night sky. It was peaceful, the only sound was the gravel crunching beneath your feet and the insects chirping in the distance. You liked being by Thomas. It was nice.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence until you reached the front door of your small house. You turned to look at Tommy with a content smile on your lips.

“Thank you for walking me home- and for having me over. It was really nice.”

Tommy looked at you fondly, with that usual softness in his eyes that brought warmth to your cheeks and butterflies in your stomach. He didn’t need to speak, because you could always understand what he was trying to tell you simply by the way he would look at you.

“I hope I see you again soon.” You smiled, though you were sad that the night had come to an end. “You’re welcome to come over here any time... I really like spending time with you.”

Tommy felt his cheeks grow warm, his hands fidgeting at his sides and his weight shifting just slightly. You were so kind to him and he was sure that he would never get used to your sweetness. It made him feel so warm, so happy inside. There was a twinkle to his eyes as he looked at you, a joyful expression shown only through his eyes and nothing else. That was all you needed.

You stepped inside of your home, not yet closing the door as you looked so fondly at the man on your porch.

“Goodnight, Thomas.”

Tag List: @ostricx @sagis116 @motomamita @dij-ology

#thomas hewitt x reader #tommy hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt #tommy hewitt #leatherface x reader #leatherface #tcm the beginning

[junkissed]

marshmallow movie dates

member  — husband!vernon x reader genre — fluff, humor, rom-com word count — 1.3k warnings — mentions of food (cocoa with marshmallows), none other than that but they're disgustingly sweet and domestic does that count? notes — this is my 2022 carat gift exchange present for @hvcmixtape!! this was so fun to write bc vernon is just such a silly funny guy he has such husband energy 💔 merry christmas and i hope you enjoy! from, your secret santa - june :))

one reblog = one stolen mini marshmallow

after too many long weeks in a row of coming home late and not being able to spend more than a couple hours together before rushing off to bed, you and vernon finally have a few days off for the holidays.

you’d spent christmas day at his parents’ house for christmas, a day filled with laughter and hugs and gifts and good food. dinner had been at your family’s house last year, but you hadn’t been able to stay for long because you had work that night. you’d barely had time to exchange gifts and a few kisses before you had to rush off. despite the copious amounts of holiday decorations around your house, because you were both so busy it had been a while since christmas had really felt like christmas. 

but this year was different. finally being able to sit down with your friends, to tell stories and catch up on everyone’s lives. sitting next to vernon’s sister at dinner and giggling about the things he does that are definitely weird, but endearing in his own vernon sort of way. 

and with both of you having the day after christmas off work as well, you can come home and just… take it easy. not having to worry about how early you need to get up tomorrow or planning your meals or prepping your work. just relaxing.

so, according to vernon, “this calls for a movie marathon!”, complete with matching blue silk pajamas, and candy cane striped socks, and piles and piles of blankets.

you sigh, flopping down on the couch. “i’m too tired to do anything,” you whine, reaching your arms out to make grabby hands at vernon as he walks into the living room carrying your matching mugs monogrammed with your initials on them. “come sit with me?”

he sticks out his bottom lip. “but your cocoa’s gonna get cold!”

you slide down against the couch, legs stretched out. “but i want to cuddle with you,” you pout back at him.

he groans, but he sets the cocoa down on the table before jumping onto the couch next to you, and you yelp as the cushions bounce under his weight.

he lets out a deep exhale as you both sit in silence, watching the snow flurry around outside the window. the atmosphere is calm, neither of you wanting to say anything to break the peaceful quiet that surrounds you.

and everything about today has been so nice, you don’t even mind when vernon falls asleep with his head on your shoulder. even when he starts snoring, because you fall asleep quickly after that.

when you wake up it’s dark outside and the kitchen light behind you is on, and vernon’s no longer next to you. you blink slowly, your eyes adjusting before you notice the fluffy white blanket draped across you, tucked behind your shoulders so you’re totally wrapped in it.

you stretch your arms above your head, the blanket slipping down as you arch your back and let out a yawn. you hear your name called, and you twist around on the couch to see vernon walking towards you.

you break into a smile when you see him, slowly waking up. “hi.”

“morning, sunshine,” he says, leaning down to kiss you.

“what time is it?”

“almost nine,” he replies.

you sigh, leaning back against the couch. “that was a really good nap.” you yawn again, reaching up to wipe the dust from your eyes.

“i know,” he giggles. “but now i’m–”

“–not tired,” you finish for him.

“mhm.” he hums, tilting his head to stare down at you, the corners of his mouth upturned in a smile he probably doesn’t even realize he’s smiling. oh, if he could see his face now—he’d deny it, but the way his eyes soften when he looks at you, the way his smile seems to glow when he’s around you, the way he blushes when his eyes fall to the ring he put on your finger so long ago; that, he can’t deny. 

“so… wanna build a blanket fort?”

you laugh, looking up at him. “absolutely.”

because you know you’ll be up all night now anyway, and he did promise you a movie marathon, so what better way to get cozy with all these blankets than to build a fort?

as he’d predicted, your cocoa has long since gotten cold, and while you were asleep he took it back to the kitchen for you to reheat later.

you stand up and stretch one more time, resisting the urge to smack vernon with a pillow when he tries to tickle you.

instead, the pillows are put to better use as supports in your makeshift fort extending from the table by the couch. one stack of blankets and a pile of clothespins later, the living room has been converted into a “movie-watching man cave” (vernon’s words).

and then you realize… with the way the blankets are draped down over the sides, neither of you can actually see the tv.

you let out an exaggerated sigh, laying on your stomach on the floor inside the fort. you could get up and rearrange everything, but… so much effort…

“you wanna just use my phone?” vernon says, pulling it out of his pocket and tossing it over to you.

“mmkay.”

he grins, telling you to decide on the first movie while he goes to warm up the cocoa in the microwave.

“i added marshmallows this time,” he says when he returns, handing you the mug with your initials on it. “we’re out of the jumbo ones, though, there’s only mini ones.”

“thank you, nonie,” you giggle, carefully taking it from him before spooning a half-melted marshmallow into your mouth.

he sets his mug next to yours on the carpet, and you hold it for him so it doesn’t spill when he gets into the fort. he starts to crouch down to crawl in with you, but he jumps back up at the last second. “wait, i’ll get my backup charger, just in case. don’t wanna have to get up again.”

he sprints away again, and with a mischievous grin you sneak your spoon into his mug, slurping up half of his marshmallows before he comes back.

“did you eat my marshmallows?” he asks when he bends back down to see his noticeably empty mug.

you hold your own mug up to your mouth to hide the smile playing on your lips. “of course not,” you say, your voice echoing into the cup.

he cocks one eyebrow at you. “that’s definitely less than when i left,” he says, and you just bat your eyelashes innocently.

“how could you accuse me of such a thing!” you gasp, pretending to be offended.

he narrows his eyes, playing along. “well, i guess i’ll just have to get more for myself…” he says, slowly ducking out of the fort. but then he pops his head back in, catching you in the act red-handed, your spoon in his mug.

“a-ha!” he cries, and you burst into a fit of giggles. “marshmallow thief!”

“bring the whole bag back with you!” you call after him.

he bounces into the kitchen to grab the bag of marshmallows, but when he turns around to make his way back to the fort all he sees is your feet, still in your matching candy cane striped socks, sticking out from beneath one of the blankets, your warm laughter filling the house. and despite the busyness in both your lives, despite the fact that you don’t often get to have days like this, he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else or with anyone else.

taglist | @foxdaisy @tinkerbell460 @merrykyeomas @just-here-to-read-01 @ny0sang @noraehey @noniestars @squiishymeow @pearlygraysky @baekhyunstruly @tenn87 @raevyng @aceofvernons @odetoyeonjun @dkakapizzaboy @enhacolor @highkey-fangirling @baldi-2 @kcxjae @onlymingyus @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @potatofrieswithketchup @wonuziex @stariightjoyy @strawberri-uyu @matilde111

join my taglist here!

thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed! if you liked this, reblog or leave an ask or a comment, it shows me you enjoyed this so i know to write more like this in the future!

a very big thanks to @onlymingyus and @aceofvernons for help brainstorming this idea ilysm <33 and to @minghao-s for hosting this gift exchange!! it was a lot of fun participating it was such a great opportunity to meet other creators :)

#svthub #k-labels #2022svtgiftexchange #🌃 : june.writes #vernon fluff #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #vernon imagines #vernon scenarios #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #vernon x reader #vernon x you #vernon x y/n #svt fic #svt fanfic #seventeen fic #seventeen fanfic #svt x reader #svt x you #svt x y/n #vernon fic #vernon fanfic #hansol vernon #hansol x reader #hansol fluff #chwe hansol #vernon chwe

[dragonsarecats]

What do you think Christmas Claude got the Deer looking at his gifts?

!! Merry Christmas anon!!!

I've got all his character portraits pulled up and I think I gotta start with the obvious.

He got Raphael meat, XD.

Lysithea, I'm gonna assume belongs to the small lavendar bag tied with a ribbon--he definitely got her some gourmet chocolate or other type of sweet. He might have even experimented in the kitchen himself to try--you don't get a bonus for cooking with him and he's a disaster at dishes but he does promise to be good at home cooking. Plus, Claude to me seems like a really good gift giver? Both practical and sentimental. He definitely hunted whatever meat he gave Raph.

The purple striped box with a red rose shaped bow physically cannot go to anyone other than Lorenz. This one stumps me a bit, but I think Claude would probably get Lorenz tea--likely foreign, probably Alymyran--that they would likely end up drinking together. Considering how smashed up the box gets in his "damaged" portrait, we better hope he didn't get china to match XD.

Hilda definitely got the pink box with three flowers on the ribbon at the bottom of his special. She's similarly hard like Lorenz to come up with, because Claude wouldn't be satisfied getting her jewellery (when she could make her own) or anything similar, so I think he might get her raw materials to work with? Hilda's crafts are the one thing she seems really, genuinely passionate about--sure she's good with her axe and has enough charisma banked she can get whatever she wants from whoever she wants, but that means little when you're trying to get someone a gift. I think similarly to Lorenz, and likely the rest of the deer, this gift has some Almyran flare as an extension of Claude's love and trust in them. So whether it be resin sealed flowers, interesting beads, or expensive threads, Hilda's gift is definitely pertaining to her one, true hobby.

I like the idea of the smashed glass bobble in the damaged portrait belonging to Marianne. I think she deserves something delicate and pretty. You know those glass balls with little statues of animals or mini terrariums/landscapes inside? Definitely one of those. A little slice of the beautiful world she can hold in her hands.

There's an orange and yellow box in the standard portrait's bag I think belongs to Leonie. She's also definitely a really good gift giver--practical and sentimental--but in a weird way that makes giving gifts to her hard. I think he might give her an embroidered Almyran quiver--simple, practical, with gorgeous designs on it. Something she'd appreciate and use everyday.

Then there's Ignatz! Pigments is a little too obvious for Claude I think, even if he is giving Raphael meat. I like to think the large red and green striped present is for Ignartz, a book filled with Alymyra depictions of Sothis, since he seems to be a real admirer of art and painting and not just a creator, you know?

Last, but not least, is Byleth! There's no way the box he's holding out in the standard portrait isn't for them, what with the blue ribbon and the golden deer hanging from it. Claude's an information hoarder above all, so he'd probably have scrounged up any records of Jeralt and Sitri from their time at the Monastery he could find and compiled them into a nice and neat collection for the professor. Touching, but a little too in depth if you know what I mean. Rascal, lol <3

#twila answers #twila talks #fire emblem three houses #the golden deer #fe3h #claude von riegan #raphael kirsten #ignatz victor #marianne von edmund #hilda valentine goneril #lorenz hellman gloucester #lysithea von ordelia #leonie pinelli #byleth eisner #hi anon!! two for one today lol #im not doing flayn im sorry she's a silver snow character to me i don't see her she's not there sjfhkjsfdh #but if he did it would be something like fish pie or whatever you put fish in that's savory and she would be like !!! #claude would be SO good at giving gifts i just know it skjdfhksjfd he's too nosey not to be

[go-to-the-mirror]

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandom: Doctor Who (2005)

Relationship: Tenth Doctor & Donna Noble

Characters: Donna Noble, Tenth Doctor (Doctor Who)

Additional Tags: Whumptober 2023, Whumptober, Hurt/Comfort, Tenth Doctor & Donna Noble Hurt/Comfort, POV Donna Noble, Platonic Cuddling, Blankets

Language: English

Published: 2023-10-21

Words: 436

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

The Doctor and Donna enjoy a peaceful moment on the TARDIS, leaving some things unsaid. --- Written for Whumptober 2023, day 20. Prompt used is blanket.

“Are you sure that’s comfortable?” Donna asks of the Doctor, who’s half-lying on the sofa wrapped in a purple blanket, still wearing his coat, suit — both jacket and trousers — waistcoat, and button down shirt.

“‘Course it is,” the Doctor smiles, like what it’s doing is completely normal.

Donna sits beside the Doctor on the sofa. “Wot, are you cold?”

“No, it’s the pressure, it’s nice.” The Doctor moves closer to Donna, laying his head on her shoulder. “Don’t really get cold. Lot more… resistant to temperature changes than you lot are.”

“Don’t you have, like, a weighted blanket, or anything? You’re relaxing in a waistcoat. You can’t relax in a waistcoat.”

“Evidently, I can.”

“Change into something comfortable. I’m gonna look around for something. That blanket is so thin, you’re almost identical.”

The Doctor splutters. “That was uncalled for!” B ut Donna’s already leaving the room.

Finding a weighted blanket was actually rather easy. For some reason, there was a room just full of blankets right next to the room she’d just left. Truth be told, Donna hated navigating the maze of corridors and rooms that was the TARDIS interior. Luckily, she rarely had to. Her room was right by the main one, and so was both the kitchen and lounge. It was almost like the TARDIS was trying to make her life easier.

Donna digs around in the room for a few minutes before digging out a fairly heavy weighted duvet. While she’s dragging it back, she spots the Doctor, wearing some pyjamas she’s always thought to be old-fashioned — the blue striped ones with buttons — and carrying two mugs of tea as well as a box of Jammie Dodgers.

Donna dumps the blanket on the sofa and the Doctor places the tea and biscuits on the coffee table before climbing under the blanket like some sort of burrowing animal. Donna climbs in next to him, letting him basically clamber into her lap.

“You’re so clingy,” she says, ruffling its hair a bit.

“Is that a bad thing?” he asks, poking its head up.

“No.” Donna smiles. “Just glad you’re doing better, really. Last few trips have been… rough.”

The Doctor hums noncommittally and shrugs as best he can. “Nothing too out of the ordinary,” it says.

Donna could push. But things are good right now. Relaxed and peaceful, and she doesn’t want to ruin the mood, not tonight. So she nods and holds her spaceman a little closer.

They stay like that for some time, until they’re both asleep, nestled together on the sofa, knowing their backs are going to hate them in the morning.

#whumptober2023 #no. 20 #blanket #doctor who #fic #doctor who fanfiction #tenth doctor #tenth doctor fanfiction #donna noble #donna noble fanfiction #doctordonna #doctordonna fanfiction #my lonely writing

[crazypersonwhowritesfanfiction]

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐦𝐛

【Ｄｉｎｎｅｒ】

Mirabel was sewing up a new dress that she had made for tonight. She was super happy, finally she can show who she really is! “Finally! It’s done” Mirabel sits up and spins around her heart fluttering and her stomach full of butterflies. She put it on, it was dark blue with white stripes and a butterfly pendant on the dress.

She hears a knock on the door and runs down the stairs to Casita opening the doors for…Rosa. The smile on Mirabel’s face fades, “oh hey Rosa” she says greeting her, “Mirabel! How wonderful to see you! Do you know where Carlos is?” Rosa fakes her excitement to see Mirabe. “Carlos! Rosa’s here!” Mirabel calls to no answer, “I guess he's not coming do for a bit” Mirabel crosses her arms as Rosa scoffs “whatev-” she gets cut off.

“Mirabel!” Mirabel looks over and sees Mary in a pink dress with a bouquet in hand, “Maryboo!” Mirabel runs over and hugs Mary. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting, amor” Mary smiles as Mirabel puts her down, “not at all! Come with me” Mirabel takes Mary to the kitchen and pulls a chair out for her.

 *After a few minutes*

Cherry was brushing her hair to the side of her face, she was wearing a red dress that she got in Mexico with an orange peony in her hair. She was finally gonna tell the family about her and Carlos, who cares if they were gonna be mad. She loves him. She looks onto the glowing lights of the town and onto the lights of Casita, she jumps out the window and onto the branches of the trees.

Back at Casita, Mary and Mirabel were sitting next to each other as Rosa was talking to Carlos, mostly about herself. Julieta walks in with more food, “so your Mirabel’s girlfriend?” she says, “I can’t say that I’ve heard of two girls being together in this manner” the woman says. “Well actually my moms are-” “don’t you mean mom?” Antonio cuts her off, “no I have two moms” Mary says with a smile.

“Well that explains a lot” Pepa says holding a glass of wine in her hand, “what we are trying to say is that, no matter who Mirabel or anyone in this family chooses to be with, we will support them” Dolores chips in looking at Carlos. There is a knock at the door, “that must be the other guest!” Dolores says getting up and walking over, “ oh you look wonderful! Come in, come in” Dolores says, leading Cherry into the kitchen. 

Cherry and Carlos’s eyes meet and they both turn away from each other. “You invited…her” Abuela says as the family looks at her, Cherry sits down at the end of the table as the family turns back to Mary and Mirabel. “ Why did you invite her?” Carlos whispers, “you know why I did it” Dolores says back as Cherry doesn’t say anything. 

“So Cherry, why are you here” Isabela says, faking a smile on her face, “Dolores invited me” Cherry says as the family glares at her, “I'm just trying to be nice ok, give her a chance” Dolores says. “Well I think it is quite nice of Dolores, I mean, Cherry is quite a nice girl” Mary says as the family looks at her and back at Cherry as Rosa rolls her eyes. “So Cherry, where are you from” Pepa asks, “anywhere and everywhere, never stay in one spot for too long” Cherry says picking at her food with her fork.

“Well what about your homelife?” “I don’t have one” Cherry says, eating some of her food, “what do you mean you ‘don’t have one’” Luisa asks as Carlos listens. “I. Don’t. Have one” Cherry says taking another bite of food, “what about your family?” a voice rings in as Cherry turns to see Rosa with a smirk on her face. 

Cherry stays silent, “oh I see, you don’t have one do you”’ Rosa says putting the pieces together, “I mean wouldn’t expect anything least from someone like you” Cherry tightens the grip around her fork. “I mean how could anyone trust you? Think about it,” Rosa gets up walking over to Cherry, “Amor please don’t-” Carlos gets cut off by Rosa, “a girl from outside the town comes in and acts like she owns the place” Rosa laughs. “My father works outside the town y’know? He gets a lot of news Clarie” Rosa says causing Cherry to tense up.

“How-” “Or should I call you Scarlett, Jenny? Ella? Mandy? Heather? Need I go on” Rosa says. “Who are you really Cherry?” Rosa asks as Cherry smirks, “Your name is Rosa Angelina Lopez, first born of Garcia and David Lopez, but you did have a brother but you don’t like to talk about him. You like Cake and Jewelry, you weigh 146 lbs and are 5’2 inches the last time anyone checked, but then again what do I know? I’m just a girl with no family you narcissistic, shallow, bi-“ 

The doors slams open but no one comes in. The family walk out along with Cherry who walks out only to be hit in the face by a giant lizard and pin to walk. “What the fuck?!” Carlos yells as Cherry stops him, Cherry makes an explosion causing the lizard to back away. “Well, well, well, guess who finally showed up to the party!” Cherry laughs, punching the palm of her hand making sparks fly, “give me your wo-“ Cherry gets a punch to the face by an invisible force.

“Fuck!” Cherry curses walking around, “c’mon you two! Don’t be a bunch of chickens” Cherry takes out a small device and whines it up. “How y’all even find me? Thought this was the place no one could find” Cherry says, “who is she talking to?” Mary asks Mirabel, “ I don’t know” Mirabel responds. The timer stops as the lizard comes at her again as she jumps backwards as sparks hit the lizard and to people in the air as they pass out.

“What the hell is going on?!” Carlos shouts, “can it! There are still more” Cherry says, ripping her dress and bandaging the Lizard who had now turned into a boy in a trance coat with jet black hair. “Cherry what is going on” Carlos shouts, “I don’t know ok?! All I can say is that you all need to leave, right now” Cherry says and something catches her eye, a purple mushroom had popped out of the titles, “Go!” The family rushes to the doors as they are let outside and they close behind her Cherry steps back. A puff of smoke appears from the mushroom to show a young boy with a red nose on, somehow he had his whole body weight on the nose, not even flinching.

“Diego” Cherry says as she looks around, “ I know you there to Vi” Cherry sighs as a girl comes out from the pillars that held up Castia. “Awwww! I thought I did good!” the girl whines, “Diego you can stop with the nose, I don’t want you getting hurt” Cherry smiles as the boy puts his hands on the floor and flips backwards. “Where are they” Cherry crosses her arms, “Maria! You can come out now! See you didn’t have to do it” Vi calls as a girl that was Antonio’s age comes out and runs to Vi’s leg crying.

“M-Maria” Cherry says, losing up as she gets down to her level and the girl wipes her tears, “hi” the small girl walks towards her. Cherry smiles and laughs, “hi!” Cherry opens her arms as the girl comes running up and hugs her, “look at you! You got so big!” Cherry says, picking the small girl up as they both laugh. “Wait, where’s-” “Hey aunt Cherry” The voice rings through Cherry’s ears, a voice she hadn't heard in a long time.

Cherry turns to see a girl with long brown hair and green eyes, “Vittoria?” Cherry says putting  Marina down, “yeah, yeah, it’s me don’t be so shocked” the girl says flapping her hands. “Did you do this?” Cherry says, looking straight into Vittoria’s soul, Vittoria gets a bit scared as she turns away, “yeah” the girl says.  

#encanto fanfic #encanto #carlos madrigal #carlos x oc

[delightfully-ella]

Moving in Saturday.

#i already tried ro post this and it failed. #the builders are mostly done #just the shower glass to be installed. #we beed to paint basically everything #started the livingroom/dining room #you can see the green on the walls #the kitchen is gonna have a really nice blue stripe #new house #our home #badger and bunny adventures #moving

[stagefoureddiediaz]

5x11 Costume meta

Now I’ve had a little time to process here is the 5x11 meta. 

Lets start at the beginning and work our way through!!

May is in yellow and stripes!! - so we are getting communication - and a change of direction - in this instance she is communicating about Eddies change of direction from firefighter to public service officer!

Then we get to the Eddie montage which I wrote about in my sneak peak meta so I’m just gonna post it below to save repeating myself!

I couldn’t resist topless stretching Eddie 

Eddies colour palette appears to have been reduced down to black, white and  grey - those are the only colour tees we’re seeing him in that clip - there is literally no colour left in his world - other than the blue of his uniform - and when you’ve reduced your world down like that and your job isn’t fulfilling - well we all know how its going to go - on the floor sobbing! They are also slightly over sized - the life he’s now living doesn’t fit him and its sucking the life out of him, the fact that they’re a bit looser on him is designed to show a bit of weight loss - a symbol of depression, but also if al he’s got is a treadmill then he’s going to be getting leaner - loosing the conditioning that he gets from weightlifting as part of his firefighter life - getting that conditioning back will be a bit like the mental journey he’s about to go through!

all of those tees are new tees - symbolic of new era (they haven’t been broken down to make them look lived in as wardrobe would normally do) - they are fresh out the packet crisp (think about the one in 2x07 when he gets dressed after sex with Shannon - stretched out and worn looking!) but them being so new and crisp is also a sign of Eddie trying to re-invent himself as this new ‘safer’ not at risk person.

Sweat - he is working hard at going nowhere - a nice little touch!

but in addition - now we have the full scene we can see the transition from no shirt -singlets - tees all in black white or grey  -the transition from being ‘okay’ with his choice to becoming increasingly worn down and unsatisfied by it - literally covering himself more and more and building up a protective barrier. The other interesting thing is his boots - which are scuffed and not looking particularly smart - again a sign that not all is ok - its the little things that start to slip first - so these boots looking less than perfectly polished is a manifestation of that - Eddie was in the military those boots would in normal circumstances be immaculate and highly polished.

Then we get to the dinner/kitchen scene!

Eddie’s semi transparent shirt is showing us that he’s more transparent than he thinks - that he’s not doing as good a job as he thinks of hiding the truth - that he wants to be a firefighter again the shirt is a representation of his defences (especially around Buck and Chris)are wearing thin! Chris being in the grey jumper - he is the most wrapped up of those at the table and is therefore the most protected -  the grey is showing that he is neutral and we don’t really get anything from him to contradict this (except when he teams up with Buck to deliver some amazing sass). 

We also have Taylor in a green semi transparent printed shirt - we see her in a fair amount of green and the print is again hinting at confusion - she is clearly trying to figure out what is going on between Buck and Eddie (small aside Taylor saying ‘is that possible’ after Buck stating that Eddie will be back at he firehouse has me ) because they are not subtle!!

Buck is in navy blue for this scene (we do get  tiny peek at a white vest under the shirt) v Eddie being in white in white - this is very much intentional - it is a reverse parallel of the shooting only the shots being fired are verbal ones and the one left bleeding this time is Buck, while Eddie is left covered in metaphorical blood - which he hasn’t yet realised and the blood is Bucks trauma at not understanding Eddies decision to leave the 118. The gun/bullet in this scenario is Christopher and Eddies own trauma.

The mom and Dad in the car - wearing red and blue - like i’ve spoken about in this post - but we also have the army green of Eddie worn by the father as well!

 Buck in white at bar - there is obviously the tie in to buck wearing white anti meaning bad things are going to happen and it continues to play out here, but there is also something in the choice of a hoodie for me as well especially because we see him (from Eddies perspective) bathed in light - it is a contrast to everyone else in the scene - they are all in semi darkness and wearing darker tones - they are very much playing into renaissance religious iconography - portraying Buck as an angel - the hood of the hoodie forming a sort of halo (in Eddie’s eyes as we view it from his perspective / but also a bit of Lucifer moment - Eddie feeling betrayed by his most loyal friend but also Buck later on betraying how far he has come as a person and showing how far he is going to fall.

I am very  👀👀👀 the fact that  Lucy is in army green - in the same way that they’ve used this colour to parallel Taylor with Eddie before (and indeed in this very episode!), it feels to me like they are doing it again here with Lucy - we’ll have to see if that continues.

its also interesting to note the difference in the layers they’re wearing - Lucy is much less covered up - more open, whereas Buck is protecting himself by wearing a thick hoodie and a jacket, but those layers to protect himself are also him wearing a mask - hence the return of Buck 1.0 - its easy to slip into something you’re familia with that you’ve used as a form of protection in the past!

Eddie in black and Khaki jacket - the same style he wears when in mourning - the loss of Shannon, his firefam, his job that he loves etc at the bar - he is mourning his friendships and what he has lost/ given up for Christopher - its highlighting his disconnect from everything that is important to him - tying in with the past things that meant the same.

Keeping Bobby in an LAFD tee and then having Athena in a white jumper - more costume paralleling between Athena and Buddie - especially interesting when you look at the two conversations in those scenes - moving on?!!!

Chris space theme pajamas make a return - and accompanied by striped sleeves - stripe theory for the win - Eddie is changing direction again and the  universe is still screaming at him!

The grey jacket looks to be the same (or very similar) as the one Eddie wears to therapy later in the season. its paired with a light shirt here - when Eddie is feeling hopeful of his return to firefighting whereas paired with the grey later shows how far Eddie is going to descend in to the murky depths of his trauma - he views this moment as his opportunity to save himself - to be able to shut that storage locker back up and not deal with the things that we’ve seen increasingly running through his mind as the episode has progressed

Bobby in dark red parallel with buck lawsuit. there are a couple of parallels - Bobby in the same role is in the same colour way for both scenes, where as Eddie and Buck, while both in jackets, Eddie is in another semi transparent tee - Bobby has seen that Eddie is not doing well mentally and try to push him in the direction of therapy (fully knowing that he has already filled Eddies job) whereas Buck in his button down shirt in the the one firing the initial shot in 3x06 - it is about the formality of a lawsuit versus the comfort of Eddie thinking he would be able to return to his family.

we also get a look at Eddies Watch in this scene - it pops into view while Bobby is talking about taking the time to carry for your wellbeing 

I’m very interested that we’ve seen Buck start to wear a watch out of work in 5x11 - its not something he’s done a lot before, but in this episode - every scene out of work - he’s been wearing his watch!

he’s also in black and yes - that shirt has a tiny pattern on it - there is definite mirroring of the I love you scene here - Buck doing something he’s not really on board with - confessing love and having Taylor move in - sticking plasters on a fractured relationship.

Taylor wearing a triangle necklace when Buck fails to tell her about kissing Lucy 👀👀

One last thing to notice about the costuming of Buck and Eddie throughout 5x11 is that both their colour palettes have been matched up - we only see them wear black, white, navy, green or grey - especially in key moments - and always in opposite of each other - when Eddie is in black, Buck is in white such as at the bar or when Eddie is in white then Buck is in dark navy in the kitchen scene. the same is true for those last two scenes we see them in - Eddie trying to return to the 118 is wearing a white shirt, while Buck trying to confess to his girlfriend is in black - these are interesting because we enter those scenes with a hopeful Eddie and a Buck full of dread - the colours reflect this and by the end of those scenes you could say the opposite is true - they’ve reversed - I know that is an overly simplistic way to describe where they are mentally but that its a bigger thing that the two small moments which will add to the mental health pile, but thats not wha these costumes are about.

Hopefully this has been interesting and helpful! any questions - my inbox is open (work has got busy, so it might take me a little while to reply, but I will answer you!) 💜💜💜

tagging for interest @prettyboyandthekid @adamsparirsh @theladyyavilee @oneawkwardcookie @lovecolibri @loveyourownsmiilee @leothil @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @moniquekatie @reallysmartladymariecurie @kitkatpancakestack @yramesoruniverse @outrunningthedark @ktinastrikesback @arrenemris @talespinner230 @mytherapybuddie @fiona-fififi​

#kym costume meta #kym costume analysis #911 costume meta #911 spoilers #911 on fox #911 #911onfox #Eddie Diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz

[dancingazaleas]

zeke yeager | pta meeting

i literally don’t know how to shut up about him

also this is all because i saw a drabble of dilf!zeke and it’s been on my mind nonstop

warnings/notes: dilf!zeke, fem!reader, cursing, eventual smut, zeke is a divorced/widowed dad(at 33), reader is 21, cursing, zeke has a mean daughter and a sweet daughter, breeding kink, overstimulation, brief choking, slight degradation, shit one shot i’m sorry

you swear to the lord that zeke’s 11 year old daughter is a menace to society.

she’s brutally honest, just like zeke, and mean. she’s oddly mature for her age, and you think it might have something to do with her late mother. she looks almost nothing like zeke, but she certainly inherited her personality from him. she’s got curly dark brown hair that ends at her armpits and zeke’s grey eyes. she has a button nose along with rosy cheeks, something else she inherited from her mother.

“y’know my daddy only dates you cause you take care of me and aloisia,” isolde says to you as she slips on her school shoes.

you feel your eye twitch as you turn to zeke’s other daughter, aloisia, who’s seven and looks exactly like zeke. she’s got his nose, his hair color, and even eye shape. she’s got hazel eyes and a slim face. she’s as bubbly as they come, always greeting people she passes by on the street, always making friends at the park.

“i’m ready,” she holds up her small hand to you, a silent request for you to hold her hand.

“same,” isolde stands up after she swings her back pack onto her back, brushing off the nonexistent dirt on her navy blue skirt.

“zeke, the girls are ready!!” you shout out, taking aloisia into your arms.

zeke comes stumbling out of his bedroom, a white sleep shirt covering his torso and grey sweatpants.

“you’re going in that,” you raise an eyebrow at his attire, “we’re going to a parent-teacher meeting, not the gym.”

“yeah daddy, my teachers are gonna think you’re a bum or something,” isolde snickers.

“i’ll help your dad, go watch tv for a little bit longer,” you chuckle at zeke’s pout and put down aloisia, who runs to the couch.

isolde takes off her backpack and joins her sister on the couch, putting her feet on the coffee table as aloisia puts on avatar: the last airbender.

“i thought the dress code was casual,” zeke furrows his brows as you take his hand and lead him back into his bedroom.

“it is. sweatpants are not casual, they’re lounge wear,” you snicker as he flops onto the bed while you close the door and go into the closet.

you know zeke’s rolling his eyes at you, judging from his silence. you grab ahold of a white button up with light grey vertical stripes on it, trying to picture your boyfriend in the shirt. you shake your head and put it back on the rack, deciding that the default outfit would be best for now. you take a white button up off the hanger and grab a pair of black dress pants from his dresser. you hand him a pair of black loafers to go along with it and some long black socks that would cover up his ankles, you’re so glad you reminded him that they exist. you throw a black belt next to him as well.

“this is boring.”

“zeke, this is a pta meeting, the whole thing will be boring,” you watch him rid himself of his shirt.

“should i wear a tie?”

“no, you’ll look better with one button undone,” you smile as he struggles to balance correctly when he puts on his pants.

he tucks the shirt inside his pants and slips on the belt with ease. he unbuttons a button before he slips on his socks.

“i thought today was my day off,” he smirks at you while you roll up his cuffs a bit.

you roll your eyes and he slips on his shoes. he doesn’t need to do his hair, it’s just effortlessly neat.

“time to go,” you scurry to the front door with the girls following behind you.

“he doesn’t look homeless anymore,” isolde notes when zeke follows you all out of the door.

“not funny,” he huffs while he locks the door behind him and the girls get into the black SUV zeke drives.

you help aloisia buckle herself up in the car seat and then slip into the passenger’s seat next to zeke. he’s grumbling something about ‘uncle eren’ and ‘getting the girls’ as he turns the car on.

————

you try to ignore the women ogling zeke as you all walk down the school hallway. you send isolde off to her class since her meeting is after aloisia’s.

“i hope you’ve been good,” you say to aloisia, who’s holding both your’s and zeke’s hands.

“i have! ms greene says i’m one of the best,” she gloats, and you hope for zeke’s sake that ms greene isn’t bluffing.

you three walk into the second grade classroom, which is empty because you reserved the appointment, only to find the teacher isn’t in there. it only seems to make aloisia more excited as she tugs you and zeke towards the class wall with a bunch of pictures of it.

“look, look!!” she jumps as she points at her’s, “they said to draw our family and she said i did a good job!!”

the picture is a messily drawn family portrait of zeke, isolde, and aloisia.

“you drew (name) very pretty,” zeke smiles at you when you snap your head back to look at the picture in closer detail.

there you are, stick figure holding hands with zeke’s and aloisia with isolde on zeke’s other side. you never expected to be on aloisia’s family portrait, you’d barely been in her life for two years and weren’t exactly motherly. you’re a struggling college student that she occasionally sees crying at the kitchen table with zeke comforting you from behind. she, on very rare occasions, sees you come home, absolutely plastered, with a sober zeke leading you to his room. you’re the woman that wakes her up when you cry on the couch late at night. you were, admittedly, okay with not being seen as their mom.

it wasn’t your place, for so many reasons. one, you didn’t exactly act as a role model. two, you could never replace her mother and would never try. three, zeke never referred to you as such. you’d only ever act like their mother whenever you were in certain situations. but that didn’t mean you didn’t want them to see you as a maternal figure.

it made you want to cry, but luckily you didn’t. you just smile at the picture and pat aloisia’s head in approval.

“you did do a very good job,” you smile down at her and before you can give her a hug, you notice a woman walking into the room.

“oh, you must be zeke yeager, aloisia’s dad! i’m ms greene,” her face flushes while she holds out her hand for him to shake.

“yea, that’s me. it’s nice to meet you,” he shakes her hand.

she turns to you, “oh my goodness, i didn’t know aloisia and isolde had an older sister!”

“no, she’s my girlfriend of two years,” zeke chuckles uncomfortably.

“i’m (name), nice to meet you,” you wave your hand, “i’m just here to keep an eye on aloisia while you two talk.”

zeke and her go to a table in the corner of the room and aloisia drags you towards a bookshelf.

thirty minutes of aloisia rambling about her favorite book go by seemingly quick, and you watch as she cheers when her classmates walk into the room. zeke’s walking towards you, holding a thumbs up with a cocky smile, for whatever reason.

you kiss aloisia goodbye, who doesn’t seem too fazed, and head towards isolde’s classroom. you hold hands with zeke while swinging them back and forth while he repeats everything the teacher’s said to him.

“i can’t believe my little girl’s at a third grade reading level,” he exclaims, “that vocabulary studying did wonders!!”

“you should thank me since i was the one who studied with her cause she asked about my assignments for class,” you taunt and laugh when zeke pulls you closer by the shoulder.

that’s how the two of you walk into isolde’s classroom. she’s sitting at a table with her teacher, miss dunst, and fidgeting with her thumbs anxiously. she’s covering half of her face with her hair. with the one eye you can see it looks puffy and her cheeks are red, as if she’d been crying.

it has both you and zeke rushing to sit down on both side of her, zeke asking miss dunst what happened while you tend to isolde.

“hey, why are you crying,” you’re squatting by her chair and you reach to brush the hair out of her face.

when you see her other eye, you gasp out at the black eye starting to form on her eye.

“oh my god, zeke, look at her face!!”

“that is what i wanted to speak about with you. isolde has been getting bullied by some of her classmates. today, a little girl hit her after isolde defended herself while they argued,” the poor woman looks sad watching you and zeke check isolde for more wounds.

“why has she been bullied? she’s not mentioned this to me or (name),” zeke asks while examining her eye more closely.

“well, during the first day of school, isolde introduced herself and told the class about her family. she mentioned you, mr yeager, and her sister. the kids asked about her mother before i could stop them and she was honest with them and said that she had passed. she then said that she still, in a way, had a mother. your girlfriend, mr yeager.

“i asked her occupation, to which isolde said a college student. the kids got loud but i managed to quiet them down, and i thought it was the end of that. after that, her classmates started to pick on her verbally about your age gap and her late mother. i didn’t find out about it until this morning when isolde was hit,” miss dunst frowns as she explains.

before zeke could open his mouth, you speak up, “i’m the girlfriend, (name). i am hoping that these children will be punished accordingly and that their parents be notified. if this has really been going on all year like you say, then at this point their parents should be involved.”

“of course! i’m giving all of their parents a call after classes today. the little girl who hit her is sitting down with the principal right now, so she should be safe if you two would like her to stay at school.”

“give us a moment,” you smile kindly, which she returns, and walks to her desk to give you ‘privacy’.

“isolde, why didn’t you tell your daddy or i about what was going on,” you ask while she hugs zeke.

she peeks her head out of his chest, “didn’t want to seem weak.”

“why would you be worried about that,” zeke asks.

“after mom died, you were always so sad and stressed. i thought that if i was strong, you would be happier,” she explains shakily.

“isolde, look at me,” you put a hand on her knee, “you were six years old when your mommy died. six year olds shouldn’t know how to accurately take care of themselves, it’s why your daddy was there. i’m sure your daddy appreciated the effort, but i promise you that all he wanted you to be was his happy little girl. you don’t need to be strong at 11 years old, and you don’t need to be strong all the time. like you said, your daddy was sad when your mom died. it didn’t make him weak, it made him a person. and that’s what you are; a person. a little person.”

she sniffles and nods at you, “people can’t do everything by themselves. i’m sorry if we made it feel like you couldn’t tell us, and it’s totally understandable that you felt that way.”

zeke hums in agreement, “we love you, baby. so much.”

“love you too,” she mumbles with a small smile.

“do you want to stay at school,” zeke asks, he didn’t want to force her into a situation where she didn’t want to be.

“i have a math test later, don’t wanna miss it,” she sighs, now looking up at you.

“(name)...?”

you tilt your head while you wait for her answer.

“i’m sorry i’ve been so mean to you. everyone was making fun of me and called it weird, so i guess i wanted to believe that too,” your heart warms whenever she looks away shyly.

great, now zeke’s horny from seeing you act motherly.

————

ever since you and zeke had stepped off school campus, one of his hands was always touching you. it didn’t matter where, zeke was shameless.

even as you unlock the door to the his house, he has his chest pressed against your back and his arms wrapped around your waist. his lips are kissing softly at your neck and his hands are shamelessly groping at your boobs.

“zeke, what is up with you,” you laugh whenever you open the door, kicking off your shoes immediately.

“horny,” he admits, swiftly following after you and locking the door behind himself.

“what about this morning made you horny,” you ask shyly while you sit on the couch.

zeke’s buttons are halfway undone and his belt is somewhere on the floor. he squeezes in behind you, once again pressing his chest against your back.

“acting maternal, i guess,” his beard tickles the back of your neck as he kisses it.

“is this why you told isolde it was okay if she wanted to stay at school,” you snicker at his fingers pulling your shirt over your head.

“why else,” he scoffs, “my only day off in a while and i’m horny. sounds like a deal.”

you whimper whenever he starts biting at your neck and when his large hands slip under your bra.

“zeke, if we’re gonna do it on the couch, can i at least lay on my back,” you ask while zeke unclips your bra.

without a word, he’s thrown you onto the couch on your back and climbing on top of you seconds later. your hands quickly unbutton the rest of his shirt, pushing it halfway off of his body.

zeke throws the shirt onto the floor and kisses you, hands running up and down your torso. he pulls away to kiss and suck at your neck while his hands grope at your tits. you’re stuck between laughing and moaning at zeke’s beard dragging against your neck.

his mouth trails down to your tits, mouth attaching to your left tit while he continues to grope your right one. you let out a moan whenever he tweaks your nipple with his right hand and bites softly at your left nipple.

he pulls away from your chest, tugging off your pants and panties in frustration. it leaves you laughing and assisting him. whenever your pants do come off, he throws them to the ground and spreads your legs.

“zeke, they’re not opening too far, we’re on a couch,” you note, but soon stand corrected as zeke grabs your ankle and puts it on the back of the couch.

“nevermind,” you snicker at his cocky smirk, as if he’d done something amazing.

your other leg hangs off the couch, leaving you spread open for zeke. zeke spreads open your glistening folds with thumbs and gives a mindful lick up to your clit. after realizing that his beard is not rubbing against you uncomfortably, he dives in like it’s a pool, which he thinks it is because of how wet you are.

his mouth his sucking on your clit vigorously, as if he were a man starved. you’re moaning wantonly as he suddenly ups the speed. how did he even go that fast, you have no clue, but either way you enjoy it. your back in arching off of the couch and your toes are curling as zeke starts bringing you closer to an orgasm.

“zeke!! i’m... i’m gonna come,” you tug at his hair as your legs start to convulse and close around his head.

he only goes faster, and you wonder to yourself if zeke is powered by batteries or something. but the thought is quickly shut off whenever you finally orgasm, moaning out in ecstasy and throwing your head back against the couch cushions.

zeke slows down his pace, helping you ride through your orgasm. he pulls away whenever you’ve calmed down, fingers immediately pressing at your tight entrance.

“zeke... i-i’m too sensitive,” your complaint goes ignored as two of zeke’s fingers are suddenly inside of you.

“don’t care, deal with it,” he huffs as his fingers stretch you out.

with his other hand, his thumb is rubbing at your puffy clit at the same time of his fingers curling inside of you. your hips buck up with a mewl and zeke chuckles at the sight. unlike last time, he’s moving his tantalizingly slow.

his fingers curl once more, rubbing against the spongy part inside of you sweetly. you buck your hips up again at the contact and curl your toes whenever zeke starts abusing that spot with overwhelming speed. curling his fingers against the spot each time he pistons his fingers in and out of you.

“zeke!!” you come again while moaning his name and he can feel his cock twitch in his pants.

zeke chuckles when he pulls his fingers out, spreading them apart to watch your juices stick together in strings. he plops the fingers in his own mouth, rubbing his other hand up and down your quivering thigh as he pulls away from your sloppy cunt.

he pulls his fingers out of his mouth with an obnoxious ‘pop’ and pulls off his pants and boxers at the same time. he groans at his cock hitting against his lower stomach.

you stare at zeke’s cock. the tip is flushed with a bashful pink and his hair is trimmed nicely against his groin. he’s more girth than he is length, a whopping 6.5 inches, which is something he absolutely gets arrogant about.

“hurry,” you huff while watching zeke fist his cock.

“nah, you gotta beg for it, baby,” the corner of his mouth tugs upwards as he watches you wipe away your tears from the previous orgasm.

“zeke,” you whine and wiggle your hips, “please please please give me your cock. need it so bad.”

he hums thoughtfully, and it already gives you his answer.

“please... i want it so bad, need to be fucked by you,” you pout but perk up at his dismissive shrugging.

“since you want it so bad,” he’s laughing while he puts his right hand on your pelvis and his other on his shaft to enter you.

you gasp at the feeling of him pushing inside of you, grabbing for his, now, free hand. when you catch his hand, you guide it to your bruised neck for him to grasp on. he’s chuckling once again, fingers lightly squeezing against your throat as he continues to push himself in.

he groans whenever he bottoms out, letting go of your neck to grab at your plush thighs. he pushes the towards your chest and thrusts into you shallowly after he spits on his cock buried in your pussy. he hits you deeper than he would’ve before, that much is obvious by your moans raising octaves when he starts to thrust roughly.

your hands reach up to grab the back of his thighs to pull him closer to you than before. he’s groaning at the feeling of your pussy squeezing onto him each time he pulls out and thrusts back into you.

“fuck... zeke!!” you cry and throat your head back.

“fuck,” he grunts, “you’re so fuckin’ tight. even after how much i fuck this pretty little cunt each week.”

his words make you whimper and squeeze your grip on his thighs, making crescent moons into the skin.

“i’m gonna come... i’m gonna come again,” you pant out, back already starting to arch, “come with me please..!”

he speeds up his thrusts, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass getting increasingly louder as he does so.

“you wanna come with me so badly,” he asks tauntingly while you nod.

“god, zeke, please,” you try to ignore the saliva and tears on your face as you continue to scream out for zeke.

“i’ll give my sweet girl my cum since she asked so nicely,” he’s biting his lip whenever he feels his orgasm getting closer.

“yes! yes! please,” you sound so desperate as your orgasm gets closer, “zeke, please, fuck a baby into me, please..!”

zeke almost comes right then at your pleas, but ends up stilling and adjusting his stance to thrust into you more efficiently. the sudden stop makes you whine but it’s soon interrupted with a gasp as he jackhammers into you harder and faster than before.

“fuckin’ whore, wanting me to fuck a baby into you. to make you a mom. since you asked so nicely, i’ll oblige,” he berates.

“you me to fuck a baby into you? make you a mom?” it has you nodding frantically.

zeke continues to degrade you as you’re orgasm comes rushing towards you, fingers now clawing at his thighs as a signal.

zeke thrusts into you two more times before the two of you manage to orgasm simultaneously. his jackhammering slows into a grind, helping the two of you ride out the euphoria you’ve both just went through.

you whimper whenever he pulls out, uncomfortable at the sudden emptiness in you. he watches his cum start to dribble out of you, telling you to keep your legs up. he scurries off to find a paper towel or something to wipe it up with before it falls onto the couch. you shiver whenever you feel a wet cloth wipe away the dribbling cum.

he’s wiping down your chest and neck as well with a clean side of it after you put your legs down. he carries you off into his bathroom, sitting you on the counter while he readies the shower.

“i can’t believe you said that,” he raises a questioning eyebrow at you while he checks the water’s temperature.

“i wouldn’t mind having your kid,” you shrug and watch him put two towels on the counter next to you.

“i might just give you one, don’t say that,” he jokes as he starts to hug you.

“‘m okay with that,” you sigh and lean into his touch, enjoying his warmth.

“you’re stupid,” he snorts and kisses at your shoulder.

“only for you,” you snuggle your head into his neck with a giggle.

“i love you,” he sighs.

“i love you. enough to have your kids.”

maybe in a few hours when you weren’t bathing in the afterglow, zeke would bring it up to you.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #zeke yeager #zeke x you #shingeki no kyojin zeke #zeke yeager x reader #zeke x reader #zeke jaeger #attack on titan zeke #zeke smut #zeke aot #tw: breeding

[kiribakuhappiness]

Prompt- someone in class 1A bodyswaps with kirishima. For some reason they don't/can't tell their class. Whoever is in kiri body (your choice) has to deal with soft baku who either is about to confess or is already secretly dating kirishima

(Kiribaku Drabble Prompt) OH MY GOD. I AM DEAD. JUST TAKE IT. with love.

The alarm went off (supposedly) at exactly six o’clock in the morning just like it did every other morning from what felt like the beginning of time. But the tune that drifted over into his ears sounded a bit strange today, and the sheets felt a bit scratchier and heavier than he remembered them being, and - probably most importantly to note - Izuku hadn’t even needed to twitch a single muscle that morning before the blaring noise was being cut off again on its own and the room was plunged back into stifling silence.

Which all lead to the objectively horrifying conclusion that there was someone else in this bed with him.

Izuku tried not to notice how frantically his heart was pattering away inside his chest, and he kept his eyes closed to maybe continue to give off the absolutely false pretense of still being asleep, but it was no use.

He was effectively freaking out.

Why did this kind of stuff keep happening to him? First it was Aoyama leaving him cheese outside on his balcony and now this? Should he be telling somebody about these incidents? It was starting to feel like maybe it was time for him to tell somebody. All Might, maybe? Principal Nedzu? His mom?

But… that alarm… it hadn’t been set to the sound he was used to.

And these bed sheets... they were so familiar somehow...

Izuku swallowed down his rattled nerves as quietly as possible before he unfurled one of his shaking fists to touch more prominently at the heavy comforter currently all tangled up around his limbs that felt too warm, so very careful to avoid shifting too obviously or accidentally bumping into whoever the hell was next to him.

No... Izuku knew these sheets. The way that the material caught on the pads of his fingers and pulled at long forgotten memories too blurry in his adrenaline-filled state to properly see them, and that smell! He took in a deep, slow breath through his nose, and he recognized all of them. His brain prodded him with useless bombardments of dismembered images. A pillow. A blanket. A couch. A kitchen. A color. A voice.

Oh. No.

This was Kacchan’s room.

Why the hell was Izuku in Kacchan’s room?!

Why the hell was he in Kacchan’s bed?!?!

These were the exact same sheets, the same rough texture, the same familiar smell of a subtle bleach and a smoldering stack of firewood that had been ingrained into his memories since before he was old enough to even be fully self-aware of such significant sights and sounds and sensory triggers.

But this hand...

Izuku wiggled his fingers as carefully as he dared to, but it all felt wrong. The wrist was too wide, the tendons in his forearm were too strong and sturdy, like they’d never been strained or bruised before in their entire lives, fresh and limber and toned.

No. None of this was right.

“Oi, we fuckin’ gettin’ up or what?” Kacchan’s hoarse, early-morning voice cracked somewhere beside him before an equally rough palm smacked hard into his bare shoulder and startled Izuku’s eyes wide open with a chaotic lurch in the opposite direction as he rushed to sit up and put as much distance between them as possible.

Oh wow. Yeah. This was Kacchan’s room alright.

That poster used to be in his bedroom back at his parent’s place, and that snowboard leaning against the dresser in the corner had his signature orange stripe down a solid black background, and this was definitely the same navy-blue comforter that Izuku had always hated the feeling of ever since he was old enough to hate the way that things felt, and - holy cow - there was Kacchan.

Sleep torn and shirtless with his wayward spikes all pressed down flat on one side while he lifted a broad hand up to rub his battle-scarred knuckles into one of his blurry eyes. His lips tucked down into a petulant scowl and his eyebrows furrowed in the middle of his forehead the longer that Izuku continued to sit and stare at him with an open mouth as though he had just watched him grow another head.

Kacchan hasn’t tried to explode him yet.

Why hasn’t Kacchan tried to explode him yet?

“The fuck are you lookin’ at me like that for?” Kacchan griped in a moody manner as he reached out for a second time and pushed at his shoulder again, lighter, and with fingers that tried to linger for far too long. Izuku jumped at the unexpected contact and tried to back completely out of his reach, but the bed was much too small, and suddenly he was tumbling off onto the floor with a resounding groan of pain that sounded nothing like his own.

“Oi! Kirishima! The fuck is the matter with you?” Kacchan snapped in clear agitation as he glared over the edge of the bed down at Izuku’s rumpled figure lying in a heap on the floor.

Did he just say Kirishima?

Okay. Something really crazy must have happened last night. Something quirk related. Definitely something quirk related.

Izuku righted himself on the ground before he held up his hands in front of his face and gazed at the strong, muscular vein protruding on his right forearm that was most definitely not his own, and yeah, okay, he was in Kirishima’s body right now. That’s what this was – they had switched bodies. Which meant that Kirishima was probably in Izuku’s room, waking up as him and - aw man - that meant that Kirishima was going to see all of the new posters and action figures that he’d been adding to his collection since the first time when everyone had forced their way into his room and -

HOLY CRAP - Kirishima was sleeping in Kacchan’s room?! Since when??

“Did you wake up feelin’ even more dumb today or what?! If you don’t answer me right fucking now -”

It was the familiar sound of Kacchan’s explosions popping in the center of his palms that finally jarred Izuku back to the present; back to the reality of this very hazardous situation that he seemed to have found himself in. There was no way that he could tell Kacchan who he really was right now. He would kill him. He would murder him in cold blood. He would blast him to death until there was nothing left of him and then he would blast away all of the rest of his pieces just for fun.

Nope. Kacchan could not find out about this. It was just out of the question.

“Sorry!” And okay, his voice did sound a lot like Kirishima’s, that was good. Lower and scratchier with an adolescent edge in the process of dropping a few more octaves before reaching full maturity someday. He could work with that. “I was just having a dream. You startled me… d-dude!”

Kacchan frowned down at him with a suspicious, squinted gaze and Izuku tried to look as innocent as possible as he slowly lumbered back up onto his feet that felt foreign and unsteady under his new weight.

Wow. Izuku was tall. It might have only been a few more centimeters, but the height difference was already astounding. It would have been kind of nice if he had swapped places with someone who happened to be taller than Kacchan, though… oh well.

Speaking of Kacchan, he tracked Izuku’s movements with a laser-light precision while Izuku tried to remember how it was that people normally stood (because he seemed to have forgotten how to) before Kacchan suddenly tch’ed and slumped back down into his pillow with a careless arm thrown up and under his head. He smacked the empty space where Izuku had just been laying with his other free hand and glared expectantly.

“C’m back,” he demanded in a decidedly less than threatening manner.

Wow. This was really weird. Kirishima slept in Kacchan’s bed and Kacchan was okay with it? How often did this happen? How did they even get to this point where it had become so natural for them to share a bed like this? To wake up together like this? When did –

Kacchan’s lip twitched impatiently and he raised his hand up in a slow, dramatic arch as though to catch his eye and make sure that Izuku couldn’t miss how obviously the gesture was being directed at him.

“Eijirou,” Kacchan grunted out, with an incredibly uncomfortable amount of eye contact, and then he smacked the empty space beside him again.

Oh… my god. It was a summons. Izuku could not do that. He could not handle just… getting back into bed with him?! Not when he’d finally managed to escape from it. There had to be an excuse. He had to find an excuse.

“I have to pee –”

“I could not care less,” Kacchan snarked back before his strong fingers gripped bunches of the comforter into a tight hold as though he were physically restraining himself from doing something that Izuku didn’t want to know what it could possibly be.

“I-I’ll just be a minute,” Izuku tried to stumble out as nonchalantly as possible as he took a hurried step in the direction of the bathroom.

A loud creak echoing from the other side of the room halted him dead in his tracks, and he whipped around to spot Kacchan as he rolled up onto his knees in one swift movement and leaned forward, reaching out and grasping the end of the bed with two strong hands and looking ready to leap off the mattress and block Izuku from continuing.

“You really gonna make me chase after you?” Kacchan snorted an amused sort of sound under his breath as his biceps flexed dangerously and he readied himself to pounce.

Oh no. Not chase after. Never ever chase after.

“N-no!” Izuku managed to stammer out, but it was far too late. Kacchan had already made the decision to end him.

Izuku scrambled back as quickly as possible in an attempt to keep some distance between them, but it closed before he even had the chance to register that it was gone and then Kacchan was just there, far too close far too quickly, leaning into his space and wow, Izuku was so uncomfortable right now that he couldn’t even pretend to keep making eye contact anymore as he fidgeted restlessly in his new cornered position.

“You’re bein’ weirder than usual,” Kacchan stated firmly, but he had finally stopped trying to come closer which was all-in-all a very good thing.

“Sorry,” Izuku squeaked out again, clenching and unclenching Kirishima’s hands over and over as he desperately tried to pull himself together. He couldn’t help feeling so incredibly blind-sided by all of this. He had so many questions and no way to ask them – no way to understand, to know.

How long would it take for Kirishima to wake up and try to come and find him? Surely he would understand the significance of how much Izuku was finding out about right now that clearly nobody was ever meant to find out about.

Holy crap, and if Kacchan knew that it was Izuku of all people who had been the first one to find out about it?! To have seen it all unfold up close and personal like this? Oh man, it was all so very bad.

“Stop apologizin’ to me, that’s what’s so fucking weird,” Kacchan grumbled out in the same bitter tone, and Izuku tried not to stiffen when he raised a hand and pressed it into the bookshelf next to his head, leaning his weight onto it and squinting down at him like they might share an extraordinary telepathic moment.

Izuku opened his mouth, ready to apologize again completely on instinct, but any noise that was about to come out got strangled and lodged in his throat when Kacchan’s other hand came up and his thumb promptly hooked under his jaw and clamped his mouth shut before a dangerous palm slid into place and covered his mouth completely. Izuku’s heart started to race in this unfamiliar chest and his eyes widened as he waited with vein-twisting anxiety for Kacchan to blow his entire face away with a single blast.

But… he never did.

“Seriously fucking stop, Kirishima. ’S pissin’ me off,” Kacchan demanded again; stern and final. “There ain’t nothin’ to apologize for, understand?”

Izuku tried to calm his labored breathing as he watched Kacchan watch him back for a long moment, and the fingers around his jaw tightened in an unfamiliar manner before they were suddenly gone again. Kacchan pushed himself away from the bookshelf and started towards the bathroom with a loud, gruff yawn.

“Better fuckin’ hurry up, cause I ain’t savin’ you any hot water for a second shower,” Kacchan warned without looking back as he turned on the light and ducked inside the other room.

Izuku’s entire body jolted back to life at the sound of the water in the shower turning on, and when it finally clicked in his head what that thinly veiled threat entailed, he tore off in the direction of the hallway at top speeds, practically sprinting out of the room and absolutely refusing to look back even when he could hear Kacchan shouting incredulously after him.

He so did not have the mental capacity to even try and unpack any of what he had just gone through. His one and only objective was to find Kirishima and switch their bodies back as soon as possible so that he could go on with the rest of his life and pretend like none of that had ever even happened in the first place.

Yeah… that sounded nice.

For once – Izuku just really, really didn’t want to know any more details.

--- full fic out now ---

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34034215

#kiribaku #kiribaku fic #kiribaku drabble #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #midoriya izuku #drabble prompts #bakushima #bakushima fic #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

[keigelsss]

A Super Sweet Secret - Gojo Satoru

Merry late Christmas ya filthy animals ;)

Mega thirst moment based on this post and I think it just fits this fucker so well. I wrote part of this at 3am and I hate it so much ... fellow Gojo fuckers come get ya food.

Warnings: 18+, my shitty writing, language, mentions of alcohol, Gojo using infinity (had to do it on em), smut, DIRTY TALK, fingering, oral *fem receiving, overstim, squirting, uh… the pet names are super self-indulgent too oops, literally every grammatical error you can think of (please let me know if I missed any warnings I don’t wanna upset anyone or make anyone uncomfy. That being said minors pls DNI!! I don't feel like blocking anyone today)

Word count: 2.25k (i do be getting carried away)

How do you go about explaining your current situation to the higher-ups if you get caught with him? Do you tell them that, instead of getting pointers on how to guide students down the right path, you’ve been indulging in some very explicit acts with the man who is supposed to show you the ropes? No. That’s not right either but in all honesty, it would have been a lost cause from the get-go. Gojo Satoru is the least traditional in his teaching methods and is without a doubt a troublemaker but his antics are a part of what makes him so charming. It’s that same charm that finally made you cave and accept a coffee date with him on the next day you both had off. 

You don’t know exactly when it happened but little by little those morning coffee dates turned into mid-day snack runs, then dinner and overindulging in desserts at the other’s house. Everything took an unexpected turn when you went a bit overboard on the sake one night. The next morning you woke up naked on your couch, the sun in your face, a pounding headache and a large man clinging to your body like a koala. As much as you wanted to maintain a professional relationship between the two of you, it was so hard to not crave another taste of him. He couldn’t resist you either, one bite and he kept coming back for more. 

You two are definitely going to get into some serious trouble for this.

After stressful days of exorcising curses Gojo likes to unwind with a sweet treat from his local bakery and you by his side. He’ll find it ridiculously adorable if you have a bigger sweet tooth than he does. On the walk back to his house, you both snag a pastry from the bag of goodies and laugh at the other for not being able to wait until you reached your destination. The two of you arrive shortly after but Gojo decided he wasn’t entirely satisfied...

“Hey, sugar?” he asked while removing his sunglasses, his eyes entirely focused on your movements. You started to place what was left of the little cakes in a dish that was used specifically for the sweet treats of the day, he quickly recalled how you made fun of him for the fancy crystal platter but he admitted to being a bit extra like that. “What’s up trouble?” He let out a soft chuckle and got closer, wrapping his arms around your shoulders leaning down to rest his chin on top of your head. “Trouble? That couldn’t be me.” you placed the cover back on the platter and put your hands on his arms settling back into him slightly. “You only call me ‘sugar’ when you want something from me, so what is it?” 

Now that was true, he had a list of pet names for you that he liked to pull out for certain occasions and you caught onto that quickly. It’s really not fair at all how he can make innocent words sound so damn sinful when he wanted to tease you. You turned to face him now, his hands resting on either side of you. He leans down and places a feather-soft kiss on your lips, so soft it’s almost like he’s not making full contact with you.

“I thought we didn't do those things when it was just us together like this?” Your eyes fluttered open and he came back in for a real kiss, his hot tongue lingering lazily on your bottom lip but not enough to excite you. He does that on purpose. “I know but it’s just the thought of it, I can tell you're thinking about it too.” He reached for the dessert dish and picked up a small cream filled pastry, he took a bite and offered you the other half. You knew it wasn’t an accident when he got the filling on your lip and chin. He used his thumb to clean up the mess he made then licked it clean, he is actually evil but even if you do hate him sometimes you can’t find it in you to resist him. 

“C’mon Y/n, don't you think it would be interesting to try while I go down on you? Just a little bit?” You bit your lip at the thought and he was already excited for your answer. He was right, the idea of him between your legs, devouring you but not quite. Being able to feel everything between the two of you but not making an actual connection. it ignited a small fire within you. 

“We can try it once but I can’t promise that I'll like it.” 

Truthfully that was all he needed to hear before he began to strip you of your clothes, leaving you completely naked. His large hands began exploring your body, grabbing onto any dip and curve he can find while placing sloppy kisses on your neck. He used both hands to get a firm grip of your ass, lifting you onto the cold marble countertop, you let a small moan escape you at the feeling and he placed a wet kiss on your lips. Tugging on the fabric of his long sleeve you brought it up and off revealing his defined upper body, you could drool if you didn't have some self control. “Satoru not too much okay? It’ll drive me crazy when all I want is to feel you.” The whimper that fell from your pretty mouth was almost enough to make Gojo cum in his pants, you swore you saw hearts glowing in his bright blue eyes. “Don't worry princess only a little bit. Besides you know my sweet girl always gets what she wants.” 

If there was anything that came close to what you picture heaven was like, it would definitely be the equivalent to Gojo’s strong, slender fingers expertly rubbing your folds. He always found every sweet spot and applied the perfect amount of pressure without you having to say a word. 

“Baby, did I make you this wet?” He used his thumb to spread your slick around, creating a delightful rhythm on your clit. Hips trembling when he grazed that one spot that practically had you gushing for him.

“Yes! It was yo- oh fuck that feels so good!” you leaned forward, resting your head on his chest, admiring the way his fingers looked so mesmerizing covered in the pretty shine of your juices. “You know you're the sweetest thing ever right? So damn delicious. I can spend hours between these sexy thighs of yours.” His breath is hot on the tip of your ear and that smooth voice sends shockwaves throughout your entire body. His free hand wrapped around your thigh and gripped below your knee, shifting the angle at which his fingers were exploring your overly sensitive hole. 

“Are you gonna let me make you cum with my mouth? Let me taste how sweet you are?” his lips started to trail the sides of your neck down to your chest. He left a series of kisses on each breast, sucking lightly on your stiff and sensitive nipples. “Ah Satoru please! I want- Ooh want your tongue.”  He licked a stripe across your tummy then placed a soft kiss on your belly button, he moved your thighs once more and found a position comfortable for the two of you. Your legs resting nicely on his shoulders while he rubbed circles on your hips and waist. “Look at this gorgeous pussy,” a soft kiss on your inner thigh. “So pretty.” another kiss on your swollen clit, you couldn't help but arch your back off the counter, grabbing a handful of his soft hair. He nibbled on your thigh and a sharp whine fell from you. “Remember to behave sweetheart, I'm supposed to be going easy on you.” His chuckle vibrated against your hot mound and you let out a sigh, releasing some tension from your hands on his head, allowing him to do what he wanted with your body. 

Gojo’s tongue seemed to have a mind of its own, curling and sucking at the special spot that only he knew about with perfect accuracy. The buzzing sensation that you normally felt when he's down there was reduced to an incomplete static, like your nerves weren’t fully receiving the information of his movements. Now that? That was different. It really was infinity… a barrier he controlled entirely, the rolling of his tongue feeling more like a whisper of pleasure that was everything and nothing at the same time. You were right to think it would drive you crazy but in the most euphoric way possible. “Oh my god it feels s-so good! P-please don’t stop baby I’m so fucking close.” 

The large kitchen was filled with desperate sounds of pleasure and the soft squelching of Gojo’s fingers inside your quivering cunt. This feeling was new but you were instantly hooked. It didn't take long for you to fall over that glorious edge with a broken moan of his name and a string of curses, making little to no sense at all. A deep groan erupts from his chest as he takes in every drop of your release in satisfaction. His gaze found your blissed out expression and he decided to ease up on that invisible veil between you, fingers slipping from your tight whole. You clenched around nothing and the loss of his fingers filling you was enough to nearly make you cry. 

“That‘s my favorite flavor right there sweetheart.” he spent some time admiring the way you looked coming down from your high. The rise and fall of your breasts with every breath paired alongside the slight shaking in your limbs from how intense the orgasm was. You're a work of art to him, truly, especially like this. Opening your eyes you find his stupid gorgeous face resting on your thigh, licking his lips simply enjoying your taste. You ran your fingers through his hair one more time before softly squishing his face with your legs, letting out a breathless giggle while regaining some grasp on reality. “I w-want more, but let me feel all of you for fucks sake!” 

He instantly obliged, diving right back in, using only his tongue, setting a languid pace. His animalistic groans against your over sensitive pussy were a telling sign that he was enjoying himself, probably ridiculously hard in the confines of his jeans. The thought of his cock deep inside of you was enough to get you shamelessly turned on all over again. If it weren't for his hands on your hips, rubbing easing circles into your soft skin, you would be a convulsing mess on the hard marble beneath you. A dull ache was beginning to form in your lower back, but you could care less. Gojo's tongue was working wonders on that delectable bundle of nerves of yours. His hands started trailing upwards and fondling your breasts, your spine arching under his touch as he pinched your nipples. You both made eye contact and he could tell that you were close to another release, your entire body was starting to shake. “Ye-yeah baby I’m gonna f-fucking cum.” his tongue never relenting on you. You were on the verge of screaming, your thighs were probably strangling him at this point.

“Mhm my little honeypot. Are you gonna make a mess?” he growled delicately against you.

That was also new but holy shit it had your brain short circuiting. Honeypot?! Damn you really could make a mess and that was exactly what you did. His relentless attack on your clit was blinding but so fucking delicious you didn't want it to end. You squirted all over his face, covering his neck and chest with a stream of your juices. The added stimulation of his abilities, and the shock of this new pet name clearly having an impact on your intense orgasm. it could possibly be the best you've experienced. He was aware of that fact as well. “I love when you do that.” honestly you did too. The aftershock of it all had you both mesmerized, your body just a quaking mess, panting and moaning. You struggled a bit to get air back into your lungs but Gojo's hands squeezed on your waist reassuringly. Your hips were beginning to relax and he once again found a place to momentarily rest his head on your thighs. 

He huffed a small howl of amusement. You could instantly tell what he was so giddy about. “So? Honeypot?” you questioned him, not in a judging manner but out of curiosity and excitement. “It kind of just came out of me in the moment.” You couldn't help but laugh at his answer, a fitting response. You took a second to relish in the sight of your cum and his sweat tracing his brow. It will forever remain a mystery on how you managed to get so addicted to the world’s biggest pain in the ass, but here you were. 

That evil little smirk made another appearance on his face while he brought himself up to  kiss you, the taste of yourself was very much present on his tongue and soft lips, you screeched in excitement. He swiftly lifted you off the counter and began his trek towards his bedroom. 

“Are you maybe just a bit more curious on what else I can do to that pretty body of yours?”

yeah this is trash uh if you read this sorry for the lack of seasoning in your food

tags: @bobabybo @ibukiirisha

#satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #gojo x y/n #gojo sensei #jjk x y/n #gojo saturo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #i hate writing #x reader #pls I can’t #gojo satoru smut #jjk smut #ew I’m a simp #gojo smut #this is horrible sorry for your eyes and brain #lmao bye #x y/n #x you #idk how to end a fic #end me please #gojo satoru x y/n #my work #big brain Izzy

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part IV

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.6k

Warning: a big helping of abandonment/daddy issues, lots of feelings, explicit sexual content A/N: y’all are gonna be so soft and then so mad lmao. 

The plan was to go to Mike's house then back to campus. You said you didn't have anything to do at your mom's, that a long phone call would suffice, which is why Mike is confused when you ask him if you can stop by before going back. It's an hour out of the way, but it's not like he has anything better to do, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious about your humble beginnings. 

 The house is in a decent-looking neighborhood, small, nearly identical one-story homes surrounded by cracked sidewalks. He has to be careful not to trip as you make your way to the front porch, pots of dead or dying plants along the edges of it. You shove your key into the lock, twist and open, then motion for Mike to follow. 

 The den is dimly lit, ceiling fan above with only one working bulb. A crime show is playing on the TV but there's no one watching. There is, however, another light pouring from a back room, and as soon as you drop your bag on the couch, a head pokes out from the doorway. 

 "Baby girl!" A shrill voice cries, and Mike sees you grimace. "I thought you weren't coming by!" 

 A woman walks into the den wearing long, cotton shorts and an old tie-dye shirt then pulls you into a hug so tight that it makes you cough. 

 "Mom," you take a deep breath as if to refill your lungs with all the air that was pushed from them. "This is Mike."

 He holds out a hand and smiles, but all your mother does is stare with round eyes and blurt, "Oh, he's a big boy." 

 "My fucking god." You don't yell or whine, just pinch the bridge of your nose and mumble, "Just shake his hand please." 

 "Sorry, I'm sorry, just was not expecting… You didn't tell me how tall he was."

 "'Cause it doesn't matter. Why would I—nevermind," you cut yourself off, face falling flat just like your voice. 

 Mike isn't sure if he should be flattered or offended or embarrassed, so he just ignores the comment entirely and says, "Nice to meet you." 

 You make your escape to the back, dragging Mike with you before shutting your bedroom door and leaning against it. 

 "Mom is a little weird, but you'll always know where you stand with her," you tell him. "Also, sorry about the house. She’s a teacher, so she’s usually pretty beat at the end of the day. Not enough energy to do a lotta cleaning."

 "Didn't even notice," he reassures you. 

 Mike unpacks his bag next to you, and you gather the dirty clothes from both yours and his, balling them up and taking them with you out to the garage to throw into the washing machine. Mike should have done it at his parents', but as you were packing up that morning, his mother got all teary eyed and his dad just kept shaking your tiny hands and telling you to come back, so it just didn’t happen. 

 Back in the living room, your mom is sitting in an old rocking chair, and Mike thinks you'll take a seat on the adjacent couch, but instead you ask, "You need help with anything? Dishes or vacuuming or somethin'?"

 She looks up at you, fly-away hairs sticking out around her temples and forehead and responds, "It'd be nice if you could do the dishes. I just haven't gotten around to it."

 "Can do," you nod and walk into the kitchen, opening the dishwasher and making a displeased noise at the dirty plates and bowls inside. There's room for a few more, but once it's full and running, you just clean what's left in the sink by hand. Mike finds a towel, stands next to you, and holds his hand out for every scrubbed dish, drying it and placing it in the rack to hopefully be put up later. 

 "You hungry?" You ask when you're done and drying your hands. "It's almost one."

 "Uh, yeah. I could eat." 

 Truthfully, he's starving having only had a small breakfast at his parents'. He doesn't want to say that, though, doesn't want you making a big meal for him or apologizing for anything. 

 "Sandwiches okay?" 

 Something in your tone has him on edge. Your voice is too quiet, deflecting downward as if you're forcing each word from your mouth. 

 "Yeah," he nods. "If you get the stuff, I can make 'em." Mostly so that you can relax but also because there's no way he's gonna let you make him a fucking sandwich. 

 You shrug your shoulders, grab bread, lunchmeat, cheese, and condiments, then say, "You can make ours. I'll make mom's."

 He knows he's missing something, but he doesn't know what, and right now he's too afraid to ask. 

 He eats next to you on the couch, you and your mom watching TV as Mike tries to subtly glance around. Mounted shelves are decorated with dusty, mismatched figurines, cracks opening at the corners where the walls meet the roof. The brick fireplace is stacked high with plastic tubs and books, probably from your mother’s classroom, and the carpet has seen better days. 

 Mike isn't judging—not in the least—but he has a feeling he knows why being here puts you in a sour mood. The house feels lived in, cluttered and cozy and worn around the edges, but it's still empty somehow. 

 After the three of you are finished eating, you take the paper plates and dispose of them, then tell your mom that you'll be in your room. She gives you a soft smile that you struggle to return.

 It's a little more you in the bedroom, blue walls covered in old posters and collages, a quilt similar to the one in your dorm folded at the bottom of your bed. Your pillow cases are faded and covered in an old flower design that matches your sheets, and there's a small nightstand next to the headboard that's bare on top with wrinkled papers poking out of the bottom drawer. 

 "It's not much, but if you wanna snoop around like I always do, feel free." 

 Mike doesn't really want to, especially since you already seem so uncomfortable in what should be a safe space for you. The only thing he feels okay investigating is the old bookshelf next to your closet—mostly YA novels, some poetry books, an old set of The Lord of the Rings series, a textbook over rocks and minerals and another over volcanoes. Tucked away in the bottom shelf is a tiny booklet that looks like a photo album, and Mike has to fight the urge to pull it from its place and flip through the plastic pages. Anything to get to know you better. 

 You lay in bed, eyes locked on the ceiling, and Mike doesn't know what to do. There's a very small TV sitting on your dresser, an old DVD player next to it, so he figures he'll save both you and himself from talking by picking out a movie. 

 He fingers through them, not that there's a lot, just skims the spines until he pulls out a copy of Space Jam. You only glance at the screen when the intro starts, and Mike immediately zeroes in on the way your jaw sets and your brows furrow. 

 "I can pick something else," he tells you quietly. 

 You take a deep breath and shake your head. Slowly but surely your features begin to soften. 

 "'S'fine."

 "Are you sure?" 

 "Yeah. My, uh…" You swallow loud enough from Mike to hear, neck bobbing with the motion. "My dad and I used to watch it all the time."

 He doesn't know what to make of it or how to respond. In the months he's known you, Mike has never heard you mention your father a single time, and he's never asked in fear of what your response might be. 

 He moves your quilt to sit on the very edge of the bed, a little too tense as he heavily contemplates ignoring what you'd said and still switching movies. 

 "You can lay down, you know," you mumble. "I'm not gonna bite you."

 "You have before," he tries to act casual, but it comes out too stiffly.

 You laugh through your nose— "Suit yourself—" then get more comfortable on the mattress. 

 Michael Jordan gets pulled into a golf hole and the Loony Toons journey to retrieve his shoes from the real world. Mike is barely paying attention, more focused on the way your breathing evens out until it becomes slow and deep. 

 That's good. You could use a nap. 

 He watches you for a while, the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks and your lips part. You're all curled up on yourself, hands tucked under your chin, knees to your stomach, and Mike wants to slip behind you so badly, to pull you to his chest and lay with you until his heartbeat syncs with yours. 

 But first. 

 As carefully as he can, Mike stands from the bed and glides to the bookcase. He lowers himself in front of it, quickly finding what he's looking for and pulls it from the shelf. 

 It's a small little album, full of polaroids and old pictures cut in half. The first page sets the tone for the rest of the booklet, a photo of a very small you outside eating a popsicle next to a man that is most definitely your dad. You've got a similar facial structure as well as his coloring. Not to mention the expression he's wearing is one Mike has seen you make many times before. 

 The next picture is the two of you dressed up for an event. He's in a striped Polo and slacks while you're in a little checkered dress, a rose corsage on your tiny wrist. Some kind of father-daughter dance, Mike guesses. 

 Sitting on his lap at a fair, a chubby little boy a few years older than you standing close with a stuffed snake around his neck. A party where you're posed with an honestly frightening costume character. You in a bright, mesh jersey standing back to back with your dad, arms crossed, looking at the camera with your chins tilted upward. 

 They all look like good memories. The little boy in the fair picture appears several more times, and as he loses his baby fat, Mike sees the resemblance he shares with you and your father. It's too close to be a cousin—your eyes and mouths shaped the same—so he must be your brother. 

 Mike doesn't know how to feel about that because again, you've never uttered a word. As far as he knew, you were an only child, so why…

 He gets lost in the pages, watching you grow and pose mostly next to your dad. Smiles and laughs and silly faces with your tongues sticking out. Your mom is in some, brother in others, and then, you're in a cap and gown, grinning widely next to your dad who's beginning to gray at the temples. His own smile is barely there now, a ghost of what was seen in the previous photos. It's forced, it's sad, and it's the last picture in the book. 

 Mike's chest hurts. He wonders what happened, when exactly you'd lost him. Was it a quick goodbye, or had it been drawn out and painful? Had he been sick for a long time? He'd looked perfectly healthy in all the shots. Maybe a car accident that took both him and your brother…

 He flips to check for one last photo on the back of the page, but it's empty. However, tucked in a tiny, paper pocket is a folded up note that Mike stares at for a few solid minutes, debating the pros and cons of reading it. He knows he's already violated your privacy by looking through the album, and fuck, he's only been in your house for a couple hours at most—how has he already managed to tumble down such a humongous rabbit hole? 

 Your tiny snores reach his ears, and Mike gently pulls the note out, biting his lip as he unfolds it as quietly as possible. It's soft, like it's been read too many times, and the letters scribbled in all caps are beginning to fade, but the words are still legible. 

 It starts with your name, and then it's all apologies—sorry I can't stay, I have to leave, you don't understand how much this hurts me and so on. 

 Mike's eyebrows pull together the further he reads, blood pounding against the walls of his arteries, pulse picking up because he understands now.

 Your father wasn't in any sort of accident; he just left. 

 The letter ends with a gut-wrenching, You'll always be my little girl, and Mike nearly crumples the paper up to throw away. He resists somehow, simply folds it with shaky hands and slips it back into the pocket at the back of the album. 

 He's never been so mad at a stranger in his life. This must be it. This must be why you are—

 "Should've known you'd go straight for the photo album." 

 Your voice makes Mike's body jolt, his face heating as he turns to look at you with wide eyes. 

 "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—"

 You wave him off and prop yourself up on an elbow. "It's whatever."

 But, it's not. It's this huge part of you that still affects you to this day. Mike is no psychologist, but he has a pretty good feeling this is the main reason you hold everyone at arm's length. 

 "Why didn't you ever tell me?" 

 "What's there to tell?" 

 Sitting up fully, your gaze moves to the screen just in time to see Michael Jordan step off of the spaceship and onto the baseball field. I Believe I Can Fly is playing, and you're gritting your teeth. 

 "It's not anything that comes up in normal conversation anyway. I wasn't just gonna hit you with it outta nowhere. Also," you look back to Mike, eyes still sleepy, lips pulling downward in a frown. "I'm not the only one who hid stuff about my family."

 Mike sighs and quietly tells you, "That's different," as he closes the album and slides it back into the row of books. 

 "Is it, though? Is it really?" 

 "I..." 

 Mike shuts his mouth and actually thinks on it. He wasn't trying to lie to you about his home life or his heritage. He's only half Greek on his mom's side, after all, and he's only been to the country to visit family a couple of times—once when he was a child and once right before college. The culture is a little different over there, but it all seems so natural to him, especially after being raised to speak the language. 

 Honestly, he didn't ever tell you because he didn't think to, but Mike can understand the shock of walking into his childhood home and getting thrown through that loop. It must have been jarring for you. 

 It's a positive aspect of his life, though. It's not something that's damaged him or made him cold toward others. And, he hates describing you in such a way, but it's true.

 At least it makes sense now. 

 "I guess not," he shrugs. He's not about to fight you on it. 

 You stare at him for a while, waking up a bit more as you rub your eyes and stretch. 

 Then, you flop back down on your pillows. 

 "So. Any questions, Zacharias?" 

 He's surprised that you're asking, and though he doesn't want to twist the metaphorical knife in your gut, he still replies honestly: "Too many."

 A long exhale through your nose, and then you're patting the mattress next to you and grumbling, "Fine, I'll do my best, but you gotta come up here."

 "Why? You gonna need to cuddle afterward?" He can't help but tease. 

 "Fuckin' maybe, dude! We're about to get into my god damn trauma so—"

 Mike is up on his feet and flying toward the bed. He isn't about to sabotage the one fucking moment you're opening yourself up. 

 "Alright, what first?" You ask, trying to look bored, but Mike can clearly see that you're nervous. 

 "He left." 

 "Yeah."

 And then he gets the full story. 

 Your dad was pretty perfect during your younger years—a bit of a workaholic but still good. He took you to dances like the one you'd both dressed for in the photograph. You'd spend days at amusement parks where he'd carry you on his shoulders. He coached the basketball team you'd played on as a child.

 "Not saying he played favorites, but I was definitely closer to him than my brother was."

 The brother who developed a drug problem at fourteen, who was always either out with his little addict friends or at home where he would just scream at you and your mom. 

 "He went to rehab a couple times, but it didn't stick." 

 He left home at seventeen and hasn't gotten in touch with you or your parents since. 

 "I keep thinking one day we'll get a call from the police saying they found his wallet on a fucking corpse, but who knows. Maybe he got clean. Maybe he started a family somewhere else. He'd be twenty-five now."

 "Were you ever close with him?"

 You shrug. "We spent a lot of time together when we were really little, but even back then he was kinda a mean kid."

 It very quickly circles back to your father. Mike still doesn't feel like he has all the answers, so he asks through the skin of his lip, "Why'd he leave?"

 At this point, you've got your head in his lap as he sits against the wall. He smooths your hair back from your face every once in a while, something his mom used to do to him when he was very young that always soothed him. 

 He hopes it's having the same effect on you, thinks it might be considering you've had your eyes closed for a while now, humming now and then as you talk. 

 "Honestly, I don't really know. I don't think he and my mom were ever in love. Like, they just kinda settled for each other," you sigh. "They didn't have a lot in common. They had different upbringings. But, they didn't fight or anything—not in front of us. They were good at hiding the hard times from me and my brother. They just didn't… click."

 Mike bites his tongue, wonders if that was hard to watch or if you'd been too naive to notice. 

 Then, there's his second train of thought that's really just the voice in his head screaming, we click, though! You and I work! But he keeps it to himself. This isn't about you and him. 

 "I think maybe dad had, like, a 'stay together for the kids' mentality 'cause as soon as I graduated, he was fuckin' gone. And, I mean gone. We went to a graduation party the next weekend that lasted a few hours—just me and mom—and when we got back his truck wasn't in the driveway and his drawers were empty. He left that note you read on my desk."

 Mike breathes. Just breathes. He tries to make sense of it, how someone could just do that without a real reason. There hadn't been any explanation in the letter, only apologies. 

 "Have you seen him since?" 

 You open your eyes and reply, "Nope," popping the 'p'. "I don't know where he is, and he hasn't reached out. Mom made the drive to my grandma's—his mom—but she said she didn't know where he was either. Pretty sure she was covering for him, though. She was always kind of a bitch. You know, save for the whole paying for my college and all."

 Mike snorts at this, not that there's anything funny about the situation. It's just his first reaction. 

 You ignore it, moving on with an, "Anyway."

 "Anyway," he mimics. 

 "I don't know if you've noticed in the short time you've been here, but my mom is a little… off. Not super good at taking care of herself."

 "Is this why?" 

 "Clever boy," you show a bitter smile. "I didn't really understand since they weren't, like, in love or whatever, but… I think it was the betrayal more than anything. Like, it came outta nowhere, a big ol' slap in the face."

 "Plus, he left you behind," Mike adds, as if you don't already know. 

 Looking up at him, you raise your eyebrows and smirk. "And, now you know about my abandonment issues." The last part comes out in high-pitched, melodic syllables, a little song that would be funny if Mike didn't know it was a coping mechanism. It most definitely is, though. He can tell that you're the type to mask every issue with humor and sarcasm. It's how you've been dealing with him for the last several months. 

 "So, that's my story," you conclude on an exhale. "Now you know all my dirty secrets."

 "For some reason I don't think that's all of them," Mike pets your hair again. "But, probably the important ones."

 "Mm. I guess."

 The rest of the day is really just spent killing time. You cook an easy dinner that you refuse to let Mike help with, then sit in the den with your mom just like you did at lunch. A medical show is playing. Then a reality show. Then a game show. None of you say much of anything, and it's painfully awkward for Mike now that he knows what happened, but he can power through a few days of this if it makes you feel better. 

 Hours pass until you can retreat, and moonlight shines through your bedroom window, not that Mike needs it. He's memorized your body at this point, knows where to touch without even seeing. He makes sure to be gentle, to suckle and blow on your pebbled nipples as you card fingers through his hair and breathe faster and faster. 

 Leaving love bites down your chest and stomach, he sucks on your skin, gently grazing his teeth over every bruise. Mike wants you to see them all the next day—not a staked claim, just something you can't ignore when you look in the mirror, evidence of his feelings in every mark. 

 When you're finally nice and relaxed, he spreads your legs and licks into you, trying not to be too rough with his beard, but a few swipes of it over your clit leave you shaking in his grasp. You whisper his name, the common one that everyone knows him by, but then, rolling off your tongue like a prayer, you call him, "Miche," and he can't help the rumble that rises in his chest. 

 It should be strange. That's the name only his family uses, the one he was born with. He only simplified it so that kids in school wouldn't ask questions or make fun of him, and after that, it just sort of stuck. But, here and now, falling from your lips, it's so soft. So intimate. 

 You whimper when he sucks on your folds, making them swell, making them sensitive. And then, he's pushing his tongue inside of you and humming happily at the taste. His nose is bumping against your clit, and Christ, you even smell good to him—that ripe, tangy aroma that has Mike going a little crazy. He has to make sure he doesn't get too carried away. You can't make very much noise even with the rattling of the air conditioner, but as he slowly slides a finger into your pussy, he hears you moan around the fist you're holding to your mouth. 

 He stretches you just enough to get you ready, then he holds himself over you and pushes into your wet cunt. Your eyes are open, locked with Mike's as your brow raises and your jaw drops. It's erotic, something you've never done with him before. You typically either gaze somewhere other than his face or keep your eyes squeezed shut. 

 Tonight, though, you've been vulnerable and apparently want to stay that way for a little while longer. 

 He bends to catch you in a kiss, lips and tongues moving just as slowly as his hips, and when you reach to tug at Mike's hair, he pants into your mouth. 

 Those words are there again, stuck in his throat but slowly crawling upward until they're just there, pouring from his tongue, "I lo—"

 Until you cut him off with a sharp, "Don't."

 He makes a noise of frustration, wants to protest because he's so deep inside of you, and you're holding onto him like you want him—truly want him, but you mutter once more against his lips, "Don't say it, Miche."

 So, he doesn't. He bottles the confession up and keeps it locked away, hoping like hell that one day you'll let him tell you. 

 After you climax and coat his cock in slick and cream, he gives a few more thrusts and comes inside of you, filling you with himself and wondering why you're so willing to accept him in that way but not in any other. 

 He's hurting again, like he did at his parents' as you walked around like you belonged there. Except it's worse now. 

 If you don't want him to say it, that means you don't want to say it back. 

 He stays with you for a few more minutes before pulling out. You leave to clean up, and while you're gone, Mike sits on the edge of the bed, head in his hands as he tries to get it all out of his system, whispering it out loud to himself: 

 I love you. I love you, I love you.  

 You still let him hold you as you fall asleep, gripping his hand until you can't anymore, and as Mike drifts off behind you, he has one last thought—Just let me.

* There’s only three weeks left of the semester when you head back to campus, and you intend to make the most of every passing day. 

 You pay better attention in class. You study harder in the library to prepare for final exams. You go to a few more Pi Alpha Kappa parties, making sure not to burn yourself out. And, you let Mike fuck your brains out every few days. Sometimes it’s late at night after those parties. Sometimes you're too tired after the nights of drinking and end up just going to bed only to wake up in the morning and have slow, sleepy sex. Sometimes it’s in the middle of the afternoon when you both have breaks between classes.

 Neither of you bring up anything that happened over the break—meeting families, details about your childhoods, how much you learned about one another in general.

 Most importantly, neither of you address that first night at your mom’s, the way Mike had basically worshiped your body, how he’d come so close to uttering the three words you least want to hear. 

 Thinking about it still makes your chest tighten, your heart beat faster. Sometimes when you’re sharing his bed with him, back pressed to his chest, large arm slung over your waist, you think about why it is you’re so vehemently against it. The two of you already act like a couple most of the time. You walk with each other to class when you can. You stick to each other’s sides at parties. You fuck like rabbits and don’t care who knows about it. 

 And, though you’re hesitant to admit it even to yourself, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings for him. Mike is your best friend at this point. He’s insanely hot. He’s goofy. He’s kind. Yeah, the frat boy persona he puts on around his friends is annoying, but you understand it a little better now. Plus, he always takes off the mask when he’s alone with you, giving both you and himself a break from it.

 You know your time with him is quickly coming to an end—for about two months, at least—and whenever you think too hard about it, it makes you pout and huff. You’re not looking forward to your summer classes without him, but he promises on several occasions that you can call him while he’s at his parents’ if you ever need help with the material.

 It’s impressive, the way he’s able to act like nothing happened. You know it must be troubling him, but it’s not like you can do anything to soothe him. If he was really upset with you, he would have stopped spending time with you, but he hasn’t. He just bottles it up, keeps smiling at you all crookedly, and keeps satisfying you in the bedroom (more than satisfying honestly. There’s really not a word to describe what he does).

 He’s back to getting along with everyone in the Pike house, everyone being Erwin. It’s a relief just because you don’t have to put up with the tension between them, but it’s also awkward. And, a little frightening. 

 The brothers have Smash Brothers tournaments and movie nights, a few date parties here and there, and it never fails that at some point during the evenings, you find your neck prickling as it always does when you feel someone staring at you. You always hope it’s Mike. Fuck, you wish it was him. But, when you glance up and around, it’s Erwin. Every time. His deep blue eyes are trained on you, the corner of his mouth twitching upward on one side. It doesn’t matter if he’s alone or if he’s got Maddie or some other girl sitting in his lap. He's fucking shameless, and it makes your stomach hurt.

 You keep your mouth shut for the sake of the friendship but also for the sake of Erwin’s pretty face. If he and Mike ever got into an actual fight, Erwin would probably be able to get a good few punches in, but you’re nearly positive Mike would end up destroying him in the long run. That could get him kicked out of school. That could get him thrown in jail. 

 Finals roll around, and you manage to pass all of them without issue, even getting grades above the class average. You feel fantastic, like your long term goals might actually be attainable. You have a long road ahead of you, but your GPA at the end of the year is more than enough to raise your confidence. 

 Mike asks you to come back to his house for the couple weeks between the end of the semester and the start of your summer courses, but you turn him down, too scared of what might happen while you’re there. Acting like a couple in front of his parents will only exacerbate his feelings as well as yours, and you’d like to avoid that as best you can. 

 Even now as you’re standing outside by the Jeep, he tries to persuade you one last time, almost pleading, “Are you sure you don’t wanna come?”

 “Miche, I’m sure,” you tell him, trying to stay stern, but it’s hard when his sea glass eyes light up at the sound of his real name. It’s a habit you’ve gotten into, a bad one considering how much he likes it. How much you like it. “I already told you I wanna spend the free time I have at mom’s. I need to check up on her and… Probably clean, honestly.”

 He lets out a little grunt of disappointment, then nods. “Yeah, I get it.”

 “You saw what she’s like,” you remind him. “Someone needs to drop in every once in a while to make sure she isn’t, like, wasting away or something.”

 “Makes sense. I’ll be bummed, though.”

 “Be bummed all you want,” you smile. “I’ll probably still bother you over break. A lot.”

 He sounds terribly sincere when he mumbles, “You never bother me.” It makes your stomach flip in the way you do not enjoy.

 Mike sighs, taking in one of those deep breaths that makes his broad chest rise then fall, calling attention to it and making you bite your bottom lip. 

 “Alright, I should get going,” he concedes, bending down to kiss you too deeply for simple friends with benefits. It doesn’t stop you from humming into his mouth and smiling against him. You hold him by the back of his neck as he pulls your body close to his, his voice muffled when he tells you mischievously, “Don’t forget to send pictures.”

 It makes you laugh, and you lean back to swipe your tongue over his lips so that he groans and chases after you. 

 “I promise I will. Perv.” The beating sun is nothing in comparison to the way your body heats at the thought. You’ve sent him nudes before, but the idea of him looking at them from hours away, fisting his cock as he admires your body through his phone… It makes seeing him off even harder.

 After a couple more softer kisses, Mike swings into the Wrangler and pulls out of the lot. You stand in his parking space and watch him until he’s out of sight, then walk back to your dorm, dragging your feet the whole way. 

 You only stay at your mom’s house for a week, and just like you predicted, you spend most of it cleaning. She thanks you the whole time but makes excuses in between. You just reassure her that you don’t mind even though you do. She really should see a therapist and sort out the depression she’s been stuck in for a few years now, but telling someone they need professional help is easier said than done. 

 Sleeping in your old bed is much harder this time around. You're all too aware of the weight that isn't behind you, and most nights you lay awake for at least a couple of hours trying to imagine it. 

 Like you’d promised, you send him a few pictures, some of them just lewd selfies with your tits pouring out of the cups of your bra, but others are of your naked body in the bathtub, sometimes a shot of you with your hand between your legs. It feels wrong to touch yourself in your childhood home, but it’s necessary, especially when Mike sends you a few pictures of his own—one with his torso on display, defined abs absolutely mouthwatering and the V of his hips suggestively leading into mesh shorts. Another is of him in the gray joggers he wears all the time, the ones that always show off his cock. 

 He’s so fucking hot it atually hurts, makes your pussy throb as you crave his touch. It’s an awful feeling honestly, but even worse than that is the way you miss him. You aren’t supposed to miss him. You’re just supposed to be friends who have sex. Nothing more than that.

 It's why you’re glad to go back to school. Your classes will distract you, keep you from thinking about him too much. The semester is shorter during the summer, so you have to work even harder than you do during fall and spring. You don’t really think it’ll be a problem since you’re trying to cram your brain full of anything other than Mike which is great motivation for studying. 

 Nothing is gonna get you off track, you tell yourself. Nothing will interfere with your studies. That’s the plan.

 Then, you meet Zeke Jaeger. 

* You're studying in the library. It seems like you spend most of your time here, nice and quiet and empty. The campus isn't nearly as busy in the summer as it is during the rest of the school year. No parties, no sporting events, just you alone with your books. 

 It's nice. Most of the time. A little boring but mostly nice. 

 Your eyes are getting tired, and when you check your phone, you realize why. It's almost eleven PM, meaning you've been studying for about six hours. You've had longer nights, usually spent on the phone getting quizzed on the information you're learning with a few breaks in between, but that wasn't the case tonight as Mike had to spend the day with family from out of town. 

 It's okay. You're supposed to be distancing yourself anyway. 

 Taking a deep breath, you pack up your books and slide your laptop into your bag, then stand and swing it over your shoulder. 

 The strap is too long. The bag swings too hard, and your heart sinks when you hear a little grunt followed by a, "Agh, hot!" 

 Turning with wide eyes, you immediately start apologizing, "I'm so sorry, oh my god, fuck, I'm so sorry!"

 A head of light blond hair looks up from the brown stain on his white t-shirt, icy blue eyes narrowed behind wire-rimmed glasses, but when he sees the mortification on your face, his own expression softens, and he chuckles. 

 "It's fine. You can calm down."

 You're still breathing heavily, guilt making your hands shake, but he really doesn't look angry. In fact, he's grinning now, eyebrows raised like he's amused. 

 The longer you stare at him, the more familiar he looks. You're pretty sure you've seen him before. Many times before, actually, and then it clicks that this guy is on the front page of the school website. You see him every fucking time you log in, looking much more stern than he does now. Baseball hat and jersey, mitt on one hand as he hides his other in it, and yeah, you know him. 

 "You're Zeke Jaeger."

 He makes a face, scrunching his nose up and squinting. "Yeeeeah, I guess I am."

 Best pitcher in the college league despite being a sophomore like you. He's beaten the records of some major league players. 

 You don't give a fuck about baseball, have never even been to any of the school's games, but you've been hearing about Zeke since the last season. You've learned to tune it out because, again, no shits given (and also you're much more partial to lacrosse now), but he's hard to ignore when he's staring you right in the face. 

 "Well, uh," you try to act casual. It's something you're pretty good at these days. "Cool."

 He snorts, picking his shirt off his chest to air it out like it'll help, then says, "I don't know your name, though."

 You run your tongue over your teeth, wondering why he cares, then introduce yourself. 

 "Oh, you're Zacharias' little girlfriend, aren't you?"

 Your stomach flips at the mention of him. 

 "We're not dating."

 Zeke cocks his head to the side. "No?"

 "No. Just friends."

 He hums but doesn't say anything, and your eyes are once again drawn to his chest as he fans over the stain. 

 "Okay, let me get you a new shirt or something," you try. 

 He laughs again. "I highly doubt you've got a men's shirt tucked in that bag of yours, sweetheart."

 "I—" you pout for a second, mumble, "Okay, yeah, fair point."

 "Another coffee, though," he muses out loud. "Wouldn't be the worst thing."

 You shoot him a finger gun and smack your lips. "On it. Where do you get coffee at eleven o'clock?"

 "I'll walk with you," he states more than offers. 

 Then, you're both leaving the library, leaving campus, and going to a little 24 hour cafe where you blow on lattes and cover the basics about each other—philosophy major, valedictorian of his high school class, playing baseball since age seven, etc. You should sleep. You should get ready for another long day of studying.  

 But it's hard to make good decisions when Zeke Jaeger is smirking at you from across the table like you're the most interesting thing he's ever seen. 

* Zeke gets your number that night. You're not exactly sure how, but he does. 

 Then he doesn’t text you for three days. It doesn’t bother you that much. You figure he has other things to focus on. He’s on campus to take a couple courses and practice for the upcoming season, so he’s probably just busy. If that night had just been a one-off, it’s fine with you. It was cool to talk to him, but your heart isn’t broken.

 These are all the thoughts and justifications running through your head when you’re in class on Tuesday and your phone lights up during the PowerPoint lecture. You glance down, expecting Mike or Hitch, but it’s an unknown number instead. Eyes flicking from the projection screen to your much tinier one, you slide to open the message and chew on your lip. 

 Hey, it’s Zeke. You have classes this afternoon?

 You do not. And, you are too quick to tell him that.

 He takes you to a little Mom and Pop restaurant, too far to walk so you end up riding in the black Bronco he drives, trying to convince yourself that it definitely does not make him any more attractive to you. Because you aren’t attracted to him in the first place. Right?

 You sit at a table for two eating paninis and fruit. Zeke asks how classes are going, you ask about practice, and as you talk, he gets that look in his eyes again, like you amuse him or interest him or something.

 It confuses you, and for a moment, you’re taken back to last fall at that first Pi Kappa Alpha party, the one you met Mike at when he tried to get you to shotgun a beer. God, he had been so obnoxious back then, always following you around and flirting and—

 “You listening, sweetheart?”

 Your eyes refocus on the man in front of you, his raised eyebrows and little smirk. “Looks like you’re a million miles away. Sorry if I’m boring you.”

 “No, no,” you try to defend. “I just zoned out for a second. Realized I, uh, got an answer wrong on the quiz I took today.”

 “That sucks,” he hums. “Anyway, I can stop talking about baseball.”

 “It’s okay. Just go over the last, like, ten seconds,” you say with a laugh, hoping your cheeks will stop burning sooner rather than later.

 Zeke chuckles and does just that, doesn’t seem irritated or put out. He tells you about how he has a new trainer this year to warm him up and make sure his throwing arm is in top shape. “I hope he’s as good as my last. Colt was always on it, knew exactly how hot to make the warm compresses and how cold to make the ice packs. Stuff like that. He learned my needs.”

 You both laugh, and if it was anyone else, you’d have an innuendo sliding off your tongue, but for some reason, you don’t think Zeke would want to hear it, like he’d be unimpressed with your vulgar humor. 

 Back at the college, he drives you to your dorm, explaining that he lives in the apartments on the other side of campus and wouldn’t want to make you walk that far. Then, as you slide out of the Bronco, he stops you with a smooth, “Hey,” that makes you look over your shoulder at him. “Make sure you save my number in your phone, okay? I’ll text you soon.”

 The way your stomach flips is worrisome, a feeling you’re only used to when you’re with…

 “Yeah, okay.”

 He grins widely and nods, then waits for you to get a good distance away from the car before driving off.

 No distractions, you’d said. It’ll be good for your focus, you’d said. 

 What a fucking joke. 

*

Mike has to help you with some homework that weekend. You can hear his smile through the phone, snort when he makes his little nerd jokes, then sigh when he gets to the actual subject and explains it to you without a problem. His brain is incredible, and when you think about it too hard, it makes you warm inside. 

 “You’re so fucking smart. Why don’t you let people know?”

 “Maybe I just want you to know,” he chuckles. “You think I wanna spend my days tutoring every idiot who needs help?”

 “Miche, did you just call me an idiot?”

 You hear another breathy laugh followed by a sigh. “I have many, many names for you, but ‘idiot’ isn’t one of them.”

 “Oh yeah?” You play. “And, what might those other names be?”

 He lists a few, all of them making your face flush and your body tingle, and before you know it, you’ve got your pants off and your fingers between your legs. You can hear Mike’s heavy breathing on the other end, the wet sound of his hand stroking his lubricated cock, and when you reach your climax, you moan out your usual, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, Miche.” 

 He tumbles down right behind you, panting and telling you in a voice of disbelief, “Jesus, it just keeps coming.” It makes the pulses of your orgasm even stronger, remembrance of all the times he’s painted you in white, and God, you are so ready for him to get back to the school.

 Then, there’s the voice in the back of your head that makes you think maybe it’s better that he’s gone for now, that he might not be too pleased that you’re spending time with another guy. But, it’s not like things with Zeke are going anywhere. You wouldn’t even call him a friend. You text on and off, have brunch or lunch or coffee depending on the time of day. 

 And, yeah, he calls you pet names, tells you that you look nice even when you’re just in leggings and a t-shirt, talks about his family and…

 Okay, it could potentially lead to something more, but it’s only been a week, and considering his golden boy status, he could have anyone he wants, so why would he even be interested in you in any way, shape, or form?

 Naturally, your thoughts circle back to Mike and the way he could have any girl on his arm, but he still chooses to spend time with you. To fuck you. To nearly confess his feelings to you. You have to wonder if you’re emitting some kind of scent or beacon, if there’s a sign hanging above your head with an arrow pointing down. Sports gods, come get a piece. 

 If only you’d never gone to that party. If you had just kept your head down like you had freshman year. Your life would be so much easier now.

 But now you’re in Zeke’s apartment listening to him rant about some philosopher you’ve never even heard of. He’s gesturing with his hands, flipping curling, blond bangs from his face, and whenever he pauses to think, he scratches his beard. He’s very fond of the white t-shirts and jeans get-up, sometimes switches it up and wears a button down under a sweater vest. Both looks are becoming of him no matter how much you try to deny it, but when he drops down onto the couch next to you and peers into your god damn soul with those piercing, blue eyes, you have to choke back a dreamy sigh.

 What is happening to you?

 “So, what do you think about it?” He asks, looking hopeful that you might have some insight on this matter.

 But, you simply laugh and shake your head. “Zeke,” you start. “I’m gonna be real honest with you here. I didn’t understand a fucking thing you just said.”

 You assume he’ll be disappointed, maybe tire of you since you can’t be as intellectually stimulating as he’d like you to, but Zeke exhales in a lighthearted sort of way, shows one of those amused smiles, and tells you, “You’re cute.”

 Anyone else and you would have snapped back, something along the lines of, don’t fucking patronize me, but with Zeke, all you can do is stare at him and let your lips part, silently asking for something you won’t speak out loud.

 His gaze moves to your mouth for a split second. That soft smile turns into one of his famous smirks. Then, he’s back on his feet and asking, “You wanna go to dinner?”

 You are more than relieved at the shift in atmosphere, but your heart is still beating too hard as you follow him downstairs and to his car. 

* Summer is passing quickly. Too quickly. The eleven week classes are kicking your ass, or are close to kicking your ass. Lucky for you, you have your own private tutor just a call or text away. Mike helps you, and you laugh and goof around, shoot off innuendo after innuendo, but the phone sex slows to a halt eventually. You tell him that you’re tired, and you are. It isn’t a lie. But, it also isn’t the full truth.

 Between classes when you could be resting, you’re eating out with Zeke. Or, watching him and the rest of the baseball team practice for the upcoming season. Or, sitting in his apartment, watching movies and chatting about all manner of things. Nothing important, of course—there’s no diving deep into your life story like you had done with Mike over Spring Break, but Zeke still learns the little things about you. Why you’re majoring in geosciences and how you became good friends with some of the Pike guys. You don’t give him the full details on that one—that you got blackout drunk and fucked Mike and just couldn’t stop. You don’t think Zeke would be interested in hearing about it anyway.

 You learn a bit about his dad and stepmom, the latter of whom he isn’t very fond of. He also has a little brother who’ll be attending the college starting this fall, and he’s interested in the Greek life. Naturally, you build PKA up. Even if there are some… Problematic people in the house, there are also a lot of really good guys. 

 “I’ll make sure to pass it along to him,” Zeke tells you one evening as you’re both sprawled on the couch, backs against the armrests as you face each other. It’s how he seems to prefer to sit when the TV isn’t on. When you asked him why, he had told you, “Just like looking at you,” and you didn’t know how to respond. You still don’t know how to respond.

 “Eren thinkin’ about joining any sports?” You ask now. “Does baseball run in the family or anything?”

 Zeke snorts. “Kid couldn’t hit a baseball even if it was on one of the t-ball stands.”

 “I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then.”

 “I would say he’s more academically inclined, but,” Zeke sighs. “That would be a lie.”

 You can never tell if he actually likes his brother. Most of the time he complains about him, but every once in a while he’ll bring up something cute Eren did as a little boy, and you see a fond glimmer in his light eyes. 

 “Anyway,” Zeke waves off the subject and transitions to a new one—one that makes your stomach drop. “Are you gonna tell Zacharias about us?”

 You choke on your own spit, leaning forward to cough a couple times, then challenge him with a nervous laugh, “I wasn’t aware there was anything to tell him.”

 Zeke tilts his head, mouth pulling up as he raises his eyebrows. “Come on,” he chuckles.

 “Come on, what?” You frown. If you were with Mike, you both would have died at that. Come on my face, you can hear him say, and you have to fight a smile because there’s absolutely no way you could explain that to the man in front of you.

 “You don’t have to play coy, sweetheart. We both know there’s something going on between us.” He says it with such confidence that even if he wasn’t right you wouldn’t be able to argue with him. The assumption should annoy you, should make you scoff and leave, but instead you sit there staring, caught up in his gaze and cocky grin.

 “I—”

 “It’s okay, you know. Not like you’re alone in this.”

 Those questions swim through your mind again, all the insecurities that you’ve been sorting through with Mike, but now that voice is louder because that sense of trust hasn’t formed yet. You’ve only connected with Zeke over meals and movies. It sounds domestic, but despite your apparently obvious attraction to him, you still don’t feel like you really know him. 

 But, he draws you in, like a moth to a flame. You can’t help it. There’s just something about him that makes you want him to like you, like you want to impress him, like you want to be good for him. You’ve been trying to ignore those thoughts, but they’re much harder to fight now that you’re sitting in front of him, taking in his wavy hair and pale blue eyes, that ever present smirk on his face, the curve of his neck that disappears into his shirt.

 He could just want sex. He could just want a fling. Wait for everyone to get back on campus and drop you for another girl. You tell yourself you wouldn’t care; you’re good at keeping things casual.

 Wouldn’t it be fun to be his arm candy for a while, though? Let people look at you and whisper louder than they did when they’d see you and Mike together? You don’t care about status, about being in the spotlight. It’s more for the experience, dating someone who could teach you things.

 Mike teaches you things, that voice pops up again. He’s been helping you with your work for almost a year now. You can’t just overlook that. 

 “What, are you weighing the pros and cons over there or something?”

 You snort. “Maybe. We still don’t really know each other all that well, Zeke.”

 “Might I remind you that we’ve been hanging out all summer? Did you honestly think it wouldn’t lead to anything more?”

 “Honestly,” you mimic, “I never thought you’d be interested.”

 “Why wouldn’t I be?” His brow furrows like he’s genuinely confused. “You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re cute.” 

 God, you can’t even count how many times he’s called you ‘cute’, how many times it’s made you blush over the last several weeks, just like it does now.

 Then, he pushes, “Do you not find me at—”

 “Of course I do,” you cut him off. “I don’t know who doesn’t, which is exactly why I don’t know where this is coming from.”

 Zeke sighs like he’s annoyed, then turns the hand on his thigh palm up and beckons you with two fingers. “Come here.”

 “What?”

 “Come here.”

 Your blood pressure spikes, breaths coming in little puffs that have no way of getting to your brain. It’s probably why you obey, rolling to your knees and clumsily crawling over to him. You stop short, right between his bent knees, but Zeke sits up, straightens his legs, and pulls you into his lap.

 More of that precious air leaves your lungs as you exhale too sharply, staring at him with huge eyes. You don’t know what’s happening, can’t believe it’s happening. It doesn’t feel real even as you rest your hands on his shoulders, even when he holds your hips and pulls you so that your full weight is on him, but fuck, you can’t say anything. You can’t make a sound. All you can do is wait for him to make his next move.

 “Why do you look scared?” His voice is just above a whisper, but at this proximity you can hear him without a problem. 

 “I don’t have a lot of experience sitting in men’s laps,” you manage, trying to keep your usual careless tone, but you doubt it works.

 “For some reason I don’t believe that.”

 You rear back, actually offended. “Excuse m—”

 That ire, however, melts away as quickly as it arose. Zeke slides fingers up your waist, all the way to the back of your neck to bring your face to his—your lips to his. 

 He feels different, not at all what you’re used to. His kiss is more demanding, hungry, and God, you still can’t breathe, can’t think straight because his tongue is moving past your lips, and you’re letting it, letting him taste you as your fingertips dig into the flesh of his shoulders. You lift yourself from him just a little only for Zeke to pull you back down with the hand still gripping your hip. He makes sure you feel him when he grinds up into you, the zipper of his jeans rubbing you through your little shorts so that you gasp into his mouth. 

 You both stay like that for what feels like a fucking eternity, biting and sucking on lips, stroking over each others’ tongues until you absolutely have to break apart. You’re panting now, body still tense on top of his, and Zeke stares at you with half-lidded eyes and shows the ghost of a smile.

 “Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

 The statement sets you on fire, so much so that all you can do is whimper quietly and lean in for more. 

  And, as you get lost in Zeke Jaeger, you decide for yourself.

I need to tell Mike

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #aot fanfiction #mels prima vista

[lilacs-fandom-garden]

Incorrect Quotes 3

Sorry for not updating in a while, anyway, Merry Christmas! Heres Incorrect Quotes 3! 

Ships: 

Crossmare

Errorink

Dustberry

Scifell

Horrorlust

Driller/Kreme

Afterdeath

Fandom: Undertale AU’s

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Blue: I'd like to address Ink's annoying personal habits.

Ink: Oh my God! What personal habits?

Blue: I have a list. FYI overuse of the phrase "Oh my God" is number 12. 

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

Dream: I'm sorry for all the stuff I said.

Ink: And for punching me in the face?

Dream: No, you definitely deserved that.

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

Ink: It's a good thing I still have this sexy cat costume!

Blue: I really don't think you were the target audience for that costume.

Lust: There is nothing gendered about a sexy cat.

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

 Blue: I made tea.

Ink: I don't want tea.

Blue: I didn't make tea for you. This is my tea.

Ink: Then why are you telling me?

Blue: It's a conversation starter.

Ink: That's a lousy conversation starter.

Blue: Oh, is it? We're conversing. Checkmate 

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

Ink: Am I cool or what?

Geno: What.

Ink: I said, am I cool or-

Geno: Yeah, I heard you.

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

Ink: You go big or you go home. And you don’t seem like the kind of person that goes home.

Cross: I’m not. I don’t even really have a home.

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

Dust: Those pants look great, and I bet they’d look even better on Horror’s floor.

Horror: Are you hitting on Lust... for me?

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

Killer: I've lied to every girl I said "I love you" to. I thought I loved them but then I met you and realized I've never been in love before.

Dream: Aw. I did not know that.

Killer: Yeah, it was eating me up inside. So, I called them each individually and said "I never loved you."

Dream: Okay, that seems unnecessary.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Blue: We're going mattress shopping.

Dust: You know, once we get it, we'll have to break it in.

Blue: Oh, I hear what you're saying. Mattress trampoline.

Dust:

Blue: Wait, no. You were talking about sex.

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

 Blue: Uh oh.

Fell: What?

Blue: Somebody's in love.

Fell: Yeah, right. I just think Sci’s cool. It's not like I lay awake at night thinking about him.

Fell, later that night: shit.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Dream: You guys just got back together. You might not want to ditch him on his birthday.

Blue: I think Dream has a point. You can see it another day.

Ink: But someone might spoil the movie. No one can spoil Error's birthday for me. Surprise, he's even older. Who saw that coming?

Dream: Aww, that's nice. Put that on his cake.

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

Dust: We're lost.

Horror: Lost? As in "where the hell are we?"

Dust: We're not totally lost. We're still in Waterfall.

Killer: You said this was a shortcut.

Dust: It is a shortcut! Look how fast we got lost!

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

Killer: Before I do anything, I ask myself, would Dust do that? And if the answer is yes, I do not do that thing.

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

 Cross: Nightmare, I typed up your symptoms into the thing up here, and it says you may have network connectivity problems.

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

Cross: I would have been here sooner but the bus kept stopping for other people to get on it.

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

Dust: How do you keep your pants up when battling? Its incredible!

 Error:

 Error: belt. 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dust: Nightmare!! Theres an ugly monster under my bed!

Killer (who is on the bottom bunk of the bunk bed): Alright. Screw you too!

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

Dream: You took so long in the shower!

Ink: Yeah sorry, I was at a concert.

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

Cross: Holy crap, you’re so violent-

Error: Yeah, but i'm short so it's adorable.

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

Nightmare: I scared them again didn’t I?

Cross: They’re terrified of you-

Nightmare: 

Nightmare: That makes me so happy! 

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

Ink: Error?

Error: What?

Ink: You kicked me in your sleep!

Error: ….who said I was asleep?

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

Horror: Why would you give Dust a knife?! 

Killer: He felt unsafe.

Horror: Well now I feel unsafe!

Killer: …...would you like a knife as-well?

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

Error: Okay, lets stop using the term ‘butt-hurt’. We are adults not 12 year olds.

Cross: You sound fannytroubled.

Ink: A little bootybothered if you asked me.

Dust: Someones having a tushytantrum

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

Nightmare: HAS ANYONE SEEN MY SONS?!

Nightmare: OH GOD HORROR!

Nightmare: THAT MOTHERS ADRENALINE IS KICKING IN-

Nightmare: DUST!

Nightmare: I CAN SEE EVERY EQUATION!!

Nightmare: Excuse me ma’am?! Have you seen my sons?! They’re about this tall- all clearly gay but we havent had the talk.

Nightmare: KILLER ARE YOU IN THERE?!

Nightmare: *kicks down trash can violently*

Error: 

Error: Cross control your boyfriend jesus-

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

Enjoy some quotes from Disney/Nickelodeon Shows!: (I uh- also added some cusswords lol-)  

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

Dust: I'M PREGNANT- 

Killer: You’re not pregnant! 

Horror: Wait- who’s pregnant?! 

Dust: ME!

Horror: Congratulations! 

Killer: He’s not pregnant!

Dust: Easy Killz! I’m with child-!

Killer: You’re not with child!

Horror: I’m gonna be an uncle!!!

Killer: YOU’RE NOT GONNA BE AN UNCLE!

Horror: Then who’s gonna teach the little guy how to ride a bike?!

Error: Calm down Dust! You’re not pregnant.

Dust: Then why am I so moody and nauseous?! 

Dust: I think it's the morning sickness!

Error: ...Dust…

Error: you’re a boy. 

Dust: ...oh yeah-

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

Sci: Sorry, but the convertants of air streams coming from the vents are creating a dangerous draft on the guest chair. 

Blue: Alright...but if I catch a cold and start coughing and sneezing uncontrollably it will be on you. LITERALLY-

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

Blue: Ink! Geno! Please..! Violence is never the solution-  

Blue: *gets hit in the face by a pillow and falls down*

Blue: HECK WITH THE NON-VIOLENCE..! I AM ON YOU LIKE STRIPES ON A TIGER-

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

Killer: *snoring on the couch*

Nightmare: Awww- he fell asleep mid clean! I’ll wake him.

Nightmare: KILLER!!!!

Killer: AHH! *sprays cleaning spray on Nightmare’s face* 

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

Cross: Who took all my scarfs?! I need them for tomorrow--

Dust swinging on a rope made out of cross’s scarfs: *doing a tarzan yell and crashing into the kitchen*

Dust coming out of the kitchen with spoons forks and knifes on him: Now that was awesome!!

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

Sci: Well...I brought a book you could read-

Ink: NOOOOOOOOO- *runs away*

Sci: Too easy. 

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

Blue: I'm a hugger!!!!

Dust: I'M A HUGGIE-

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

Killer: I did not see that coming.

Killer: *gets smacked in the arm by a drone* OW!

Nightmare: Apparently you don't see a lot of things coming.

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

 Horror: ...what's that?

A random stranger: It's lasagna… and it's for a Christmas Party I’m going to.

Horror: We could have a party right now-!

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

Cross: What are you all getting Nightmare for his birthday?

Killer: A slightly used lip balm. 

Dust: A free hug. 

Error: My profound admiration. 

Horror: *picks up salt shaker* This salt shaker.  

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

Ink: Oh, this is my chum bucket! I’m going to catch a giant squid and tame it! 

Dream: ...you’re a weird kid.

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

Lust: Now all we have to do is wait for the guests to show up!

Lust:

Blue: 

Lust: Oh...we forgot to invite people….

Blue: Yup, sure did-

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

Nightmare: Its not like anybody died…!

Dream: We haven't seen the rest of the tape…..

Nightmare: 

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

Killer: IS THAT A TATTOO?! 

Killer while rubbing Dust’s arm: COME OFF COME OFF COME OFF!!!

Dust: Hey! The only thing coming off is my arm! 

Killer: What am I going to tell Nightmare?! Oh….oh! I got it! We’ll just cut off your arm!

Cross: Good idea! Because that's easier to explain then a tattoo.

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

Horror and Dust: *battling with pool noodles*

Blue laying on the ground: HALT!

Horror and Dust: …?

Blue: Does anyone have a pillow? This ground is really hard! 

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

Killer: Nightmare can you do me a big favor…?

Nightmare: You need a handsome man to go with you to the reunion? No problem...I’ll do it! 

Killer: I meant to see if you could call one of your friends or your brother but uh-

Nightmare: *death stare*

Killer: okay...you’ll do-

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

Dust: Two days to learn a language?

Dust: I got some spanish for ya! No way Jose- haha!

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

Cross: And I’m sorry I said he was my favorite-

Horror: It's alright Dad! To be honest, I always preferred Nightmare. 

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

Dream: I know there is still some good left in you!

Nightmare: No there isn’t-! Wait. 

Nightmare: *visibly cringing* 

Nightmare referring to Passive Night: Agrh! There's still a piece of good. DARN IT!

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

Dust: *pretends to yawn to sling his arm over Blue to dim the lights*

Dust: Do you mind?

Blue: Not at all. While we’re at it.

Blue: *throws one of Error’s puppets at the radio to play some convenient romantic music*

Blue and Dust: *about to kiss on the couch*

Horror in the kitchen doorway: *holding a glass of milk* What are you doing?

Blue and Dust: AH! HORROR! 

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

Ink: What are you saying? That I’m dumb?!

Error: Well- no… you’re just not very….thinky.

Ink: Thinky? Why did you say that?!

Error: Because Geno told me I cant call you dumb.

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

Dream: Hey Killer? Can you get me some punch?

Killer: Sure, I’ll be right back.

Passive Nightmare: Cross? Can you get me some punch too?

Cross: What? Your feet dont work? 

Passive: 

Cross: Ice or no ice…?

Passive: Surprise me. 

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

Nightmare: If you all want your phones….

Nightmare: *shows box of phones* They’re right here.

Blue: 

Dream: 

Horror: 

Dust: 

Killer:

Ink: 

Blue visibly shaking: 

Dream: Blue…

Blue starts vibrating a bit: 

Dream: Blue. 

Blue starts vibrating:

Dream: BluE- 

Blue: *war scream* 

Everyone except Nightmare and Blue: OH SHIT- 

Blue: I NEED MY PHONE- *starts running at nightmare* 

Everyone else: BLUE NO *tries to restrain Blue* 

Blue screaming: *kicks Ink in the stomach causing him to fall backwards*

Dust and Horror screaming: *trying to hold Blues legs and arms* 

Blue still screaming: *elbows Horror in the ribs*

Horror letting go of Blue: OW!!

Dust accidentally lets his grip loosen on Blue: HOLY SHIT! HORROR?! 

Blue who is still screaming: *pushing Dust to the ground and running at the box* I NEED MY PHONE- 

Killer: *tackles Blue* 

Dream: *helping Killer restrain Blue*

Ink: *confused screaming* 

Nightmare: *laughing*

Blue: *flips over also flipping over Killer and kicking him in the chest* 

Killer: FUCK! *rolls over and clutches onto his chest*

Dream: HOLY CRAP BLUE CALM DOWN- *grabs onto both of Blue’s arms*

Blue screaming and kicks Dream in the shin: I NEED MY PHONE- 

Dream: *falls down grabbing his shin* MOTHER FU-

Blue running and grabbing the box of phones: GIVE ME MY PHONE-

Ink trying to grab hold of Blue: BLUE WAIT- 

Blue screaming and hits Ink in the face with the box: AHHH

Everyone else except Ink: *charging at Blue*

Blue grabs phone from out of the box: I GOT IT I GOT IT- 

Horror: *hoists up a screaming Blue in the air*

Dust: *grabbing Blue from the thighs lifting him up even more*

Killer: *grabbing Blue’s phone from his hands*

Blue: NOOOOOO-

Killer: *puts Blue’s phone in the box*

Blue screaming and squirming: NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

Ink: *grabbing a chair*

Dream: *helping Dust and Horror restrain Blue* 

Blue: *flipping around screaming and kicking*

Nightmare: *still laughing*

Everyone: *sets Blue down on the chair Ink grabbed*

Dream, Horror, and Dust: *holding Blue down on the chair and shushing him*

Blue: *calms down*

Ink: Holy shit...

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

Here are more incorrect quotes: 

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

Killer: Hey do you want to- stop screaming, its just me- do you want to watch a movie with me? 

Dream: I'M IN THE SHOWER- 

Killer: Okay well when you’re done with that do you want to watch a movie with me?

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

F!Frisk: You don't think I can fight because I'm a girl. 

Blue: I don't feel like you can fight because you are in a wedding dress. But for what it's worth, I don't think Ink could fight in that dress either.

Ink: Perhaps not, but I would make a radiant bride.

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

Classic banging on the closet door: Fell! Open up!

Fell: Well, it all started when I was born-

Classic: No I meant-

Blue: Shh....let him finish.

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

Dust: *sneaking in through the window at 2am*

Nightmare *flicking on the light and turning around in his chair*: So, Where were you?

Dust: I-I was with Cross!

Cross *turning around in his chair*: Wanna try again..?

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

Epic: Bruh, I want to give you the whole world but like...I only have 20 bucks.

Cross: Dude, come here.

Epic: *moves closer*

Cross: *hugs him*

Cross: I don't have any money but I got the world right here in my arms.

Epic: B r u h...

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

Killer: How high was I last night?

Dream: You forgot what milk was and called it cereal water.

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

Blue to Ink: What time is it...?

Ink: Don't know. Hand me that flute and I'll find out

*Ink plays the flute*

Dream: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE FLUTE AT 2 AM?!

Ink: It's 2am

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

Cross doing a CROSS-word puzzle: I need a 9 letter word for disappointment....

Ink: Nightmare.

Dream and Cross slowly rising from their seats: Are you ready to fucking die..?

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

Blue: How do Horror and Dust get out of these messes?

Killer: They don't. They just make a bigger mess to cancel out the first one.

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

Passive Nightmare: Do I want to be feared or loved? Easy.

Passive: Both. I want people to be afraid of how much they love me.

Cross under his breath: Then I'm fucking terrified.

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

Ink: I'd like everybody's attention. Christmas is canceled.

Blue: You can't cancel a holiday.

Ink: Keep it up, Blue, and you'll lose New Year's.

Blue: What does that mean?

Ink: Dream, take New Year's away from Blue.

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

Lust: okay so the gingerbread house instructions say to be very delicate-

Sci: *holding power drill* DELICACY!!!

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

Killer: I can't believe you and Horror broke the bed last night.

Dust: It must have been wild.

Lust: Haha... Yeah...

[Last Night]

Lust: Bet 35G you can't jump high enough to touch the ceiling.

Horror: Try me.

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

Cross: Hey ya'll. So, I know I'm the new guy here, but I think I can speak for everyone when I say... I don't know what the fuck is going on.

The Bad Guys: Agreed.

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

[Sets kitchen on fire]

Dust: shit- we need an adult.

Horror: You ARE an adult!

Dust looking extremely terrified: oh...oh fuck.

Horror: WE NEED AN ADULTIER ADULT. QUICK GO GET KILLER!

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

Nightmare: It's hard being the leader of the bad guys sometimes, but I love them all and that's all what matters-

Horror: Nightmare! Me, Fell, Dust, Killer, and Lust tried to make ramen in the coffee pot and we broke everything....

Nightmare: [inhales]

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

Killer: You need a hobby Dust.

Dust: I already have a hobby Killer.

Killer: How many times do I have to tell you stalking Blue is not a hobby.

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

Error: Ink? Why are you on top of the fridge?

Ink: Can I not be wherever I want?! Maybe I like it up here!

Error:

Error: Wheres the spider?

Ink, quietly: Underneath the table...

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

Dust: I have come up with a three-step plan to get Nightmare to marry you!

Cross: Okay...Im listening....

Dust: Step one! Get him to play truth or dare.

Cross: Never mind please stop.

Dust: Step two! Wait for him to pick dare.

Cross: Dust. I swear.

Dust: Step three! Dare him to marry you.

Cross: God damn it.

Horror from another room: IT MIGHT WORK!

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

Killer: Synonyms are weird. Because if you invite someone to your cottage in the forest, that just sounds nice and cozy, but if someone invites you to a cabin in the woods, you're going to die.

Blue: My favorite is 'butt-dial' vs 'booty call'

Sci: It's called connotation

Lust: Also, 'forgive me father for I have sinned'

Lust winking at horror: Vs 'sorry daddy, I've been naughty'

Horror whose face is now completely red: I-

Nightmare: Congrats! Language has officially been canceled.

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

Dream, joking: I should have Killer kill you for that

Killer from another room: who?

Dream: Oh no its okay, I was kidding around-

Killer, walking in, with a hammer and knife in both hands: No, is he bothering you?

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

Classic teaching Fell how to drive: Alright, you see Dust walking in the middle of the road. What do you hit?

Fell: ...oh definitely Dust.

Classic: The brakes Fell! You hit the brakes.

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

Dust: Quick! Take my hand!

Blue: *grabs Dusts hand* Now what?

Dust: Nothing. I just wanted to hold hands!

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

Cross upset: I hate you guys and I'm never talking to a single one of you ever again!

[10 minutes later]

Cross kissing everyone's forehead: Goodnight Horror, Goodnight Lust, Goodnight Dust, Goodnight Killer, Goodnight Error.

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

Blue: Psst! Error!

Error: what?

Blue: I made this friendship bracelet for you!

Error: Blue... you know I'm not really a jewerly person...

Blue: Oh. Its okay! You dont have to wear it-

Error: No. I'm going to wear it forever back off.

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

Dust: Me and Killer get along fine! Right Killz?

Killer: I've never been more stressed out in my entire life.

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

Cross: I guess I'm just too tough to cry.

Horror: Just yesterday you were crying about snakes.

Cross sobbing a little: THEY DON'T HAVE ARMS HORROR-

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

Reaper: Hey bitches!!! I've got starbuckssss-

Dust: YAY!!!

Error: FUCK YEAH-

Lust: AWESOME!

Nightmare: Reaper...please...its 3 am in the morning....

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

Dream: Are you a cuddler?

Killer: I AM A MACHINE OF DEATH AND DESTRUCTION- yeah I'm a cuddler.

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

Classic: Dont talk to me.

Papyrus: What happened brother?

Classic: I went and joined a Sans look-alike contest...

Classic: AND LOST-

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

Dream: Sibling relationships are weird.

Dream: Like, I'd give Nightmare my spine but no way is he borrowing my charger.

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

Dust: Whats it like dating Nightmare?

Cross: One timeI asked him for water while he was still mad at me, and he brought be a full glass of ice and said "wait".

Dust:

Cross:

Cross: I love him-

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

Dust: I can't go. Stress is bad for the baby.

Killer: What baby?

Dust: Me.

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

Ink: I hate it when people ask me "whats the stupidest thing you've done?" Like bold of you to assume I've reached peak dumbass.

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

Nightmare: If someone ever kidnapped you, I would hunt them down to the ends of the earth so I could kill them.

Cross: If you asked I would literally kill everyone in this room with no hesitation.

Dream [A little terrified and disturbed]: You know this is not what normal couples say to each other right...?

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

Geno: How do you politely tell someone you want to hit them in the face with a brick?

Sci: One wishes to acquaint your facial features in a fundamental item used in building walls. Repeatedly.

Lust shedding a fake tear: Thats the most beautiful thing I've ever heard....

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

Blue, opening a Capri-sun: Guess I'll just drink my sorrows away.

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

Sorry if I posted a quote twice-

#crossmare #errorink #dustberry #passivecrossmare #Nightmare sans #dream sans #driller #kreme #dreamxkiller #nightmarexcross #dustxswap #murder sans #bloodlust #horrorlust #horrorsans #lustsans #horrorxlust #scifell #classic sans #afterdeath #bad guys #Star Sanses #Bad Sanses #reaperxgeno #reaper sans #fell sans

[andysbubba]

candlelight loving

-ᴀɴᴅʏ ʙᴀʀʙᴇʀ x ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ʟɪɢʜᴛ ꜰᴇᴍɪɴɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴋɪɴᴅᴀ ᴄᴜᴍᴘʟᴀʏ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀɴᴅʏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ʜᴏᴛ ᴜɢʜ

ᴀ/ɴ: ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʀᴀɢᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ɪ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ :)

𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

-

You and Andy have been too, extremely busy the past few weeks. You were coping with school and keeping up with all the final papers while he’s either in his office or in the study at your shared home.

Slight exaggeration, but the main point is- you were both extremely busy.

And you weren’t really expecting it when he wrapped his arms around your torso in the kitchen while you were making coffee, bearded chin resting on your shoulder and feeling his clothed chest against your bare back.

Your movements stilled for awhile before you leaned into his hold.

“I missed you,” His nose nuzzled into your neck as he pulled you closer into his chest.

You hummed as you stirred the coffee in your mug, “I missed you too, honey,”

“I’m sorry I haven’t been taking care of you lately,” His calloused fingers traced circles into your stomach as he placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder.

You pushed the mug away before turning in his hold, finally facing him. Your hand made its way to his chest, and the other to the side of his face. “You’ve been busy, bubba. There’s nothing wrong with that,”

“But I’ve been coming back late and spending all my time in the study,” He pouts, tone guilty as if he really did something wrong.

“And?” Your thumb rubbed his cheek softly. “I won’t pull you away from your work just because I’m attention seeking and my boyfriend isn’t giving me the attention I’m so deprieved of,” You playfully rolled your eyes at him.

He chuckles lowly, blue eyes staring into you with pure admiration. “You know, you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met?”

You roll your eyes at him once again. “'Course I know,”

He laughs at your reply, head thrown back as he stares at you lovingly. “Well, I think I owe my pretty boy a little something, huh?” He trails off, hands trailing down to your sides and in a flash, he picked you up and sat you on the counter.

You gasped playfully, hands wrapping around his neck, “Andrew Stephen Barber.”

“Can’t help it when you’re walking around in just these grey sweatpants.” He winks like the true charmer he is, hands trailing up your torso and pecs, before he fully leans in and kisses you.

And god do you miss it. The pure thrill, his soft lips, the way Andy’s lips makes you lose your mind, and the way he knows every one of your weak spot.

You slide your hands under his shirt as soon as he pulls away, tugging so he gets rid of it. He leans into your neck as he pulls away, kissing, nipping and licking all at once. Andy kisses down your chest, eyes glancing into yours as he mouthed at your nipple, licking and sucking very lightly.

Andy smirks as you raspily groaned out his name, hand diving into his locks and tugging his hair.

“Relax, baby. I’m just getting started,” He cheekily states, kissing down your chest and stomach.

“Andyyyyy,” You whine, writhing on the solid hard counter.

“Shhhhh honey,” He hushes you, moving up and nipping at your collarbone before grabbing your jaw and pressing his nose against yours. “I always take good care of my boy, don’t I?”

You left his question unanswered as you writhed under his gaze.

Andy sighs, “C’mon baby, you know I won’t do anything till I hear you say it out,” He tugs on your hair and roughly pulled your head back. “Let me hear you, pretty boy,”

“You always take care of me, daddy,”

“That’s it, babyboy. Always so fucking good for me.” He leans in and licked a long stripe down your chest as his fingers tugged at your sweatpants. “Off.”

You lifted your hips up as Andy helped pull your sweats down. He groans deeply when he sees that you’re completely naked underneath. He brought his lips down on yours, roughly and so goddamn full of lust.

“You’re fucking perfect, baby,” He sighs as he pulls away. “C’mon, up. Wanna make sure you’re all comfy when I fuck that tight little pussy.”

“Daddy,” You whine desperately, as if he didn’t just call your asshole a pussy.

Andy laughs at your neediness. “C’mere.” He pulled your legs to wrap around his waist as he lifts you up to your bedroom. “Been too long, huh? You’re probably all tight by now, hun.”

Andy steps past the threshold of your room and drops you on the bed. “Guess I’m just gonna have to stretch you out till you’re all loose for me again, babe.”

“Andy,” You whine.

“Yeah, baby?”

“You talk too much,”

He chuckles breathlessly at your antics. “Okay, okay, baby. Turn around. Ass up.”

He walks away and reached into the drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube and a box of condoms.

“Need your cock, daddy,” You muttered shyly, a silent signal that meant that you didn’t want him to use the condoms.

Andy grinned at you as if you hung up the moon. “God, I love you, baby.” He steps over back to you, leaning down and pressing a kiss on the small of your back. “Still gotta get you stretched out, honey.”

Andy leans down and spread your cheeks open with his hands before he licks a stripe up from your balls to your ass. Andy tongued at your hole, licking and shoving his tongue inside in every way possible.

You shook breathlessly under him and drove your ass further into his face.

One of his hands let go of your ass and slides to your front, taking your cock in his grasp. You jerked into his grip as he slowly moves his fist down your cock.

He pulls away, taking in a deep breath, before you heard the familiar sound of the bottle cap opening.

“Ready, honey?”

You angled your ass towards him, presenting your hole open for Andy. “Please, daddy.”

The first finger entered your hole and besides the original 3 seconds of discomfort, it began to feel good. You grinded your ass against his finger and moaned into the bedsheets.

Andy added the second one without a warning. And the tiny stretch made you feel too fucking good that you let out a loud groan and fisted the sheets.

He kept on thrusting his fingers into you, trying to get you used to the stretched. “Another one, babe?”

You shook your head as best as you could. “Need your cock, please Andy,”

“Fuck, you’re so needy baby.” He flips you around by your hips and leaned down to press a his lips against yours. “Make sure you let the whole street know who’s fucking you,” He whispers as he pulls away.

The tip of Andy’s cock slids past your hole. The thick head was definitely more than the prep but it felt too good that you can’t complain.

“Fuck , Andy,” You groan as he goes deeper.

“Not loud enough, boy,” He notes before gripping your hips and thrusting his whole cock in your hole.

“Shit, ANDY!”

His cock was hitting so deep inside you that you felt your stomach quiver.

“Look so fucking pretty with my cock in you, honey.”

He tightens his hold on your hips before he kept thrusting into you. You barely got a breath in before his cock was back inside your ass.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” You moan out as Andy lets go of your hips and plants one hand beside your head and the other shifts to your cock.

He tugs on your length, but still bruising your prostate with his cock. His thumb brushes against your slit, making you quiver the slightest bit.

Andy’s chest was shining with sweat. A sight to behold. It would’ve been a romantic if he wasn’t fucking into you like it was his last time as a top.

“Gotta ask nicely if you wanna cum, baby,” He reminds you with the ever so annoying smirk gracing his lips.

“Shit, please daddy, I wanna cum. F-fuck fuck, please let me cum, Andy.”

He chuckles, “You’re lucky I’m feeling a little less mean today, babyboy. Cum for me, baby.”

He brushes his thumb against your slit repeatedly, knowing that it makes you sensitive, as he thrusts faster into your ass.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck, ANDY!” You scream as you cum, your seed spilling over your torso as Andy slowly stopped jerking you off.

He grunts as he chased his own high, fully focused on spilling into your hole. “Shit, baby.”

He breathes heavily as he came inside you, forehead locking into your neck as he pants slowly. He licks and kisses your collarbone as he comes down from his high.

Andy glances up from where he was. “You okay, baby?”

You nod breathlessly, ass filled with Andy’s seed and the filth of your own cum on your torso. “Wanna use the buttplug.”

Andy groans at your words. “Fuck, I love you.” He tries not to move too much with his cock still inside you as he leans up and gave you a sloppy kiss.

“Love you too, honey,”

#chris evans #chris evans smut #andy barber #andy barber x male reader #andy barber smut #male reader x chris evans #gay chris evans #chris evans x reader #andy barber x reader

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 20: Nattduksbord

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

This means something; Mulder can feel it.

This signifies a shift in their relationship; a step forward, from platonic partners to a romantic couple. It’s a shared experience that has the potential to change their dynamic forever. Years of trust, fighting together against a common enemy, seeking the truth… it could all come crashing down today, in a shopping mall in Woodbridge, Virginia.

They’re going to IKEA.

Summer is on the rise, and the humidity is close to stifling as they buckle into his car. Scully’s wearing a little striped t-shirt, capri pants, and sandals, revealing sky blue painted toes. For a disorienting moment Mulder wonders if he’s going to develop a foot fetish. Probably not, but Dana Scully could make even the most vanilla of men want to do crazy things.

“Do you have your shopping list?” Scully asks as he starts the car.

He pulls the folded scrap of paper out of the chest pocket of his white t-shirt. “Right here,” he replies, eyes darting over to her for one more look as he holds out the list.

She takes it, catching his eyes momentarily. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?” she asks.

I want to suck your toes. “You look nice today, that’s all.”

“Oh. Well, thank you.”

Scully can probably tell he’s desperate for her; she can read him like a dog-eared, yellowed paperback. He’s simultaneously grateful for her sharp instincts and embarrassed by his carnal desires. He hasn’t gotten laid in four years, and he fears he’ll be too eager when the time comes. As it is, he can barely believe she’s let him have even the smallest glimpses of her as a sexual being. She’s intoxicating, and he’s dizzy with the knowledge that this beautiful, brilliant, downright edible woman actually wants him. Him, a mortal man of aliens and bad ties and a porn collection that’s gradually becoming least seventy-five percent redheads. A man without a bed.

Hence their Saturday morning pilgrimage to the shrine where all new couples journey to find furnishings, low prices, and themselves.

“So, we’re looking for one tall bookshelf, a locking filing cabinet, a bed, and two night tables,” Scully reads. She refolds the paper and reaches across him to tuck it back into his shirt pocket. “That’s clearly not all going to fit in this car,” she notes.

“I’ll get the bigger stuff delivered,” he says.

It’s only a twenty minute drive from Mulder’s place, and they have the air-conditioning on. Mulder is starting to relax; it’s been a long time since he’s had a partner, in the domestic sense, and he’d forgotten that it makes the mundane more bearable.

Scully clears her throat almost imperceptibly. “I’m proud of you, by the way.”

“Really? Why?” Mulder asks.

“You managed to get rid of a lot of stuff,” she says, turning up the dial on the car’s air conditioner. “And organization is very clearly not your strong suit, so progress should be acknowledged and celebrated.”

“Yippee,” Mulder deadpans.

“You know, it’s odd; we’ve known each other for all these years and I never asked… why don’t you have a bed, Mulder?”

There it is, the question he knew would come up at some point. He clears his throat, grips the steering wheel a little tighter. “I, uh… I lived with someone, around ‘91. Another agent, actually. We were together for a while, and then one day she took some assignment in Europe and that was that. I got rid of everything that was hers, and that, uh, included the bed.” Technically our bed, he thinks. He winces. He’s never talked to Scully about Diana before, and he wonders if she’ll be upset that he was withholding such a large piece of personal information.

Scully is quiet. “I’m sorry,” she says softly. “That’s… I didn’t know.”

“I’m sorry I never mentioned it,” Mulder says. “It’s not like it’s some big painful secret. I just… don’t really think about her anymore.”

“It’s alright,” Scully says. “I think it’s best for these kinds of things to come up naturally. And… I was dating someone when we met,” Scully confesses. “We broke up as soon as I got back from Bellefleur.”

Mulder looks at her quickly. “Really? Why?”

She furrows her brow. “Multiple reasons, but primarily I realized that this job, my assignment, was bigger than I’d anticipated. And the things you and I went through together, the things I’d seen… when I was honest with myself, I didn’t want to be tied down to him. To have to go home and have this man ask me how my day was, as though he could ever understand even half of what we do.”

“So you chose the job over him,” Mulder muses.

“In essence… I chose you,” Scully points out. “Whether I knew it then or not. I’d never be able to turn my back on you.”

Mulder exhales slowly. He’s strangely moved.

“Take a left at the next light,” Scully prompts softly. “And yes, I do realize the irony in breaking things off with a man because of his normalcy, only to continue trying to date so-called ‘normal’ men.”

Mulder shrugs. “No, it makes sense. Maybe he just wasn’t right for you, but the next normal guy could be, right?”

“Right,” Scully sighs. “Einstein’s definition of insanity. Doing the same thing over and over again while expecting different results.”

“I’ve been led to believe that being with me is another type of insanity,” Mulder points out. “And objectively, I can’t disagree.”

“You do make me crazy,” Scully agrees, voice low. “But that’s not always a bad thing.” He feels her small hand squeeze his thigh. “And I fully intend to return the favor.”

Mulder lets out a quiet groan, hands sweaty on the steering wheel. “You planning on giving me some roadside assistance, Agent Scully? Because I’m gonna need it if you keep doing that.”

She removes her hand, tucks her hair behind her ear. “I didn’t do anything,” she says innocently.

“Uh huh.” He pulls into the IKEA parking lot. “Well, we’re here. You ready?”

“As ready as a person can be for a labyrinthian furniture store on a muggy Saturday,” she replies.

-

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Mulder says from his spot on the bedroom floor, surrounded by scattered pieces of a ‘HOLLEBY’ bedside table. “These instructions are useless and-” he flips through the booklet, “-thirty-two pages long, Jesus.”

Scully doesn’t respond; her eyes are glued to her own manual as she assembles a drawer from the second of the two nightstands. “Shh,” she hushes him softly. “I’m concentrating.”

“How have you managed to put any of these pieces together?” he asks, scooting across the floor to her. “There aren’t even words, just vague illustrations.”

She has a screw between her lips as she lines up two of the wood pieces. “I took wood shop in high school,” she says around the metal pin. She removes it and inserts it into a pre-drilled hole. “I guess that was some kind of preparation for assembling flatpack furniture?”

“That’s adorable,” Mulder says, rising to open a window. The room is stuffy with the day’s heat, and his t-shirt is glued to his back. “Do you still have any of the things you made in class?”

“The step stool in my kitchen,” she replies. “And my mom might have some things I’ve forgotten about.”

He casually strips off his sweaty t-shirt and tosses it in the laundry basket. “Remind me to look at that stool the next time we’re at your place,” he says. “Also I’m gonna order a pizza, you interested?”

Scully looks up at him then and is seemingly surprised by the absence of his shirt. “It’s hot in here,” Mulder explains, almost defensive.

“Oh, I’m not complaining,” Scully says, eyes shamelessly traveling his torso. “And I’m always interested.”

“Are we still talking about pizza here, or…”

“Make my half one with everything, please,” she says, attention returning to her project.

“Wait a minute,” he says, dropping to his knees next to her on the carpet. “I’m not done here.” He leans in and presses his mouth to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, tasting the salt on her skin. How she can still smell so good on a sticky June day, he doesn’t know; but he wants to lick her entire body.

“Mulder,” she sighs, putting down her screwdriver, “You’re distracting me.”

“That’s the idea,” he says, lips wandering up her neck and behind her ear. He flicks his tongue against her earlobe. “Forget the furniture, honey,” he says, all hot breath and lust. “We don’t need it for what I have in mind.”

Suddenly she’s facing him, looping her arms around his neck. “I’m doing this for you,” she purrs. “Do you think I like putting together IKEA furniture? No one likes it, Mulder. It’s like a multidimensional jigsaw puzzle.”

He pulls her onto his lap. “Oh, but I think you do,” he says, nibbling her ear. “You like being capable Doctor Scully, in charge of things… showing me what those hands can do.”

She leans in, licking his full lower lip. “Not everything is about you, Mulder,” she says, pressing a scorching kiss to his mouth. “I’m just doing my coworker a favor.”

“Is that what they call this nowadays?” he asks, hands clasping her hips as she grinds down on his lap.

She shuts him up with a kiss, the furniture and pizza forgotten.

#god this took me FOREVER #lol I’m busy freaking out over my second covid shot okay don’t @ me #my fic #fmcr #xfiles #txf fic #fox mulder closet romantic #msr #they go to ikea