#And then throw a secret fit about no one being able to throw down with him properly (which would make anyone a bit blue surely)

[ominouspuff]

Fwoom (intimidatingly)

#fan art #artists on tumblr #star wars fanart #star wars: the clone wars #darth maul #Crimson Dawn #ganglord Maul #My friends that tag is canon #what a time to be alive #Maul’s true calling is to scare hundreds of other scary people into some kind of order b/c it’s just more convenient for him personally #And then throw a secret fit about no one being able to throw down with him properly (which would make anyone a bit blue surely) #And then remember Kenobi exists and have another less subtle fit re: the injustice of being unable to immediately DeStroy the Kenobi #Before settling back into being terrifyingly snobbishly competent starting with making himself a cup of SPOICY tea #Like an aggrieved Victorian socialite

[lucyrose191]

TAME THE WOLFF| T.WOLFF

Pairing; Angry!Toto Wolff x Calm!Wife!reader

Summary; A few scenarios in which Toto is angry and frustrated and you’re there to calm him down and save his poor team from his wrath

Warnings; angry Toto.

F1 Master List

It was no secret that during a race weekend Toto could get a little….frustrated.

Okay, frustrated was putting it way too lightly, the man got way too passionate about his work and when things didn’t go the way they’re supposed to it was like a volcano was erupting in his mind and he just loses all sense of control leading him to his famous actions of smashing headphones.

The Austrian was already intimidating enough with his tall stature and the confidence he eluded but when he was angry he wasn’t just intimidating, he was scary.

The way his dark eyes seemed to turn almost entirely black and how the veins in his forehead throbbed were signs that had the Mercedes team shifting in their seats and the moment he started running his hands down his face was the moment the higher people in the team would get their phones out and call for help.

That help being you.

It had taken a long time for the team to acknowledge the effect you had on their team principle because he never got angry when you attended races but it was when you arrived to races later in the day that they started to see how things changed.

It was one particular day when Toto had arrived to the track already a bit frustrated, whether that was because of your absence or not they didn’t know but the pile up of disastrous events had lead to the team principle throwing things and shouting at the top of his lungs.

Then you arrived.

You certainly hadn’t expected to walk into the garage and be greeted by your husband in a fit of rage and the entire team stood frozen like petrified animals but the sight of fear on their faces had upset you greatly, especially knowing that it was because of Toto’s, quite frankly unnecessary, tantrum.

You walked over to your husband, who hadn’t even noticed you amidst his anger, and gently placed your hand on his arm.

Any member of the team would’ve called you crazy in that moment, walking over to the beast of a man with no fear on your face when he could have easily turned around and launched you across the room without even thinking.

He had been ready to throw a fist at the person who had the gall to touch him before he saw that it was you, his beloved wife looking at him with nothing but love in your eyes even as he was acting like a brute.

The team had never seen him change personalities so quickly in that moment.

You didn’t say anything to him, instead you placed your other hand on his back and guided him away from everyone, you wouldn’t have been able to move him by yourself but he allowed you to guide him away with absolutely no argument.

You opened the door of his makeshift office, saying nothing as he strode straight past you without a glance, steam practically spilling from his ears, you could feel the anger radiating off of him.

Apart from his unsettled shuffling the room was filled with an intense silence as you shut the door, simply watching as his chest rose and fell harshly, you could see that he was trying to calm himself down now that he was in your presence but he was struggling to do so and that was only frustrating him further.

"Sit down," you gently instructed him, nodding towards the small sofa pushed up against the wall of the small room.

He wanted to argue but he stopped himself and did as he was told, sitting down on the sofa he buried his face into his hands.

You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around the back of his head, allowing him to lean into your stomach, you ran your hands through his hair.

"I understand you’re stressed and that things aren’t going the way you want them too but the way you’re shouting is unfair to the team, they are not your verbal punching bag but you’re treating them as they are."

Toto closed his eyes, releasing a heavy sigh, he wrapped his arms around your body to bring you closer.

He knew you were right, you always were and that’s what he loved about you, how you were always there to talk some sense into him.

He didn’t say anything though, he just held you firmly but gently and used your presence to calm him down.

There were many things he needed to be doing right now but he couldn’t find himself to care, right now the most important thing was calming down and spending time with you, no matter how long that took.

When the Mercedes team heard the door to their boss’ office unlock and saw the man himself walk out completely calm with you following shortly after, they were beyond amazed.

It was that day that the members of the team who had your number put you on speed dial in preparation for when an incident like this happened again, which it no doubt would.

"It seems that Toto Wolff is beginning to get a little bit frustrated down in the Mercedes garage."

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the unnecessary commentary that wasn’t helping in the slightest.

Your husband was getting agitated and the nearby team members were nervously glancing in his direction as though they were mentally preparing themselves for him to blow his top.

Instead of waiting for Toto to lose it, you stood behind him and loosely wrapped your arms around him, thumbing at the collar of his shirt.

Everyone around could see the tension immediately release from his body just from your comforting touch.

Toto grabbed one of your hands with his own, stroking his thumb back and forth across your skin, using the motion as a way to ground himself.

The whole garage went silent at the sight of both of their cars spinning off the track in turn 1. What once was going to be a promising race from starting second and third has turned into a disaster in such a short amount of time.

Everyone was utterly speechless as the entire team just sat there staring at their monitors in shock.

But then they actually acknowledged that it was silent and all simultaneously turned towards their boss with confused stares only to see you blocking him from the cameras that were pointing into the garage, leaning down and whispering, what they could only guess were calming, words to him.

Whilst the cameras couldn’t see his face, the team could and they could tell he was, rightfully so, furious as the situation, he wasn’t shouting or throwing things.

He definitely wanted to but he wasn’t.

You weren’t really in the mood to be in the garage today surrounded by so much noise to the point you could barely hear yourself think and the smell of fuel so strong it made you nauseous but you still wanted to support your husband as you weren’t able to accompany him everywhere he went so you settled in his makeshift office on what was possibly the worlds smallest sofa with your laptop sitting in your lap and your headphones placed over your ears to block out the noise from the team outside and the cars on the track.

It had been hours and you were content in the alone time you were getting, it was just you and your music playing in your ears that you didn’t notice the multiple calls you were receiving.

Unbeknownst to you, outside of his office, your husband was kicking off and nothing anyone did or said could calm him down.

The team had never witnessed Toto as angry as he was right now, the veins in his forehead more prominent than ever and whilst most didn’t understand the German words coming out of his mouth, they knew he couldn’t be saying anything nice.

Bono was trying to get a hold of you for possibly the twentieth time and he was still having no luck, he felt the pressure of the teams eyes on him, begging for the news that you’d be coming knowing that he was only one of a few that had your number and the means to find you right now but he wasn’t getting anywhere.

Poor Lewis and George were getting the brunt of the Austrian’s anger and even though they hadn’t a clue of what he was saying, they were starting to question the security of their jobs.

Luckily, a mechanic who had just entered the garage and was completely taken aback by the scene in front of him, awkwardly side shuffled to Bono and questioned what was going on. "He’s acting crazy! I can’t get a hold of Y/N."

"Didn’t she go straight into his office when they arrived earlier?" The mechanic asked.

Bono looked at him in shock and relief before jumping to his feet and wasting no time as he jogged in the direction of Toto’s office.

It was rude but he didn’t bother knocking, he almost cried when he saw you sitting there.

You got the fright of your life as the door burst open but the sight of a frantic Bono caused you to remove your headphones and look at him in confusion.

"Oh thank god you’re here! Toto’s gone mental!"

You released a sigh at his words and pushed your laptop to the side and got up from the sofa. "What for now?"

"I honestly have no idea but if he doesn’t calm down soon then Lewis and George might just start crying and Toto looks like he’s about to burst a blood vessel."

The moment you stepped out into the short, narrow corridor you heard your husbands angry German shouting. "Mein Gott," you muttered to yourself.

Entering the main part of the garage you weren’t greeted by a pretty sight at all, Bono wasn’t overreacting in the way he described Toto, Lewis and George and let’s not forget about the rest of the team.

You headed straight for your husband, not acknowledging the looks of relief you saw build on everyone’s faces, especially the two drivers’.

You didn’t even need to say anything to Toto, you just stood in front of him and looked up at him with a stern gaze that soon got him to shut up but his eyes were still blazing with fury as he looked down at you, you knew his anger wasn’t aimed at you, he was just still pent up with emotions.

You nodded in the direction of his office and simply walked away, expecting him to follow after you if he knew what was good for him.

He followed you.

The moment you heard him close the door you turned to him. "This needs to stop."

He looked at you furiously, "how am I supposed to stop when I have two drivers that can’t even get through a lap without crashing into each other!"

"Don’t you dare talk to me like that, Torger!" Your voice cut through the air as you glared at him which soon caused his face to shift from angry to wounded as you scolded him.

"How hard is it for you to simply sit them down and give them a stern talking to, there’s no need for the way you completely blow your top, you’re acting like a child throwing a tantrum."

He was still beyond angry, you could see it in his eyes and the way he shifted on his feet and he was about to retort but you cut him off. "I don’t want to hear you right now, I want you to sit down in silence and calm down before a single word comes out of your mouth."

He pursed his lips, not at all happy but he did as he was told and sat down in the chair behind the small desk, you didn’t spare him a glance as you sat yourself back where you were before Bono came searching for you, pulling your laptop back onto your lap to finish what you had been doing.

It was a good 15/20 minutes later when you heard him get up from his seat and make his way over to you. He sat beside you and rested his head on your shoulder causing you to roll your eyes but a smile grew on your face at his actions, you were glad he couldn’t see it though.

You continued to carry on with what you were doing, letting him decide how he wanted your conversation to go and so it remained silent for a few more minutes with you and Toto simply sat there, him resting against you simply soaking up the comfort of your presence.

He shifted and pressed a kiss to your temple before returning back to his position. "Are you mad at me?" He asked when you remained silent.

You closed your laptop and put it away before shifting the both of you so you were up straight and looking at each other. "No," you told him honestly, "I just wish you wouldn’t let your frustrations get the best of you all the time."

He looked down at your words before looking back into your eyes with a sincere look, "I’m sorry."

"It’s okay," you smiled at him, reaching out a hand to brush his hair back. "We just need to find a way for you to keep yourself together."

"You’re the way," he replied immediately which stunned you and he was okay with that. He pulled you into his arms and you both just sat there.

You could be quite the opposite at times but you were content with that because you would always be there to ground him whenever his emotions got out of control.

#formula one #motorsport #fluff #formula one x reader #f1 fanfiction #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff x oc #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff #toto wolff fanfiction #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff x you

[lure-of-writing]

Kick your ass

Note: Hi everybody long time no see! I would assume that is doesn't come as a surprise when I say being a flight attendant leaves no room for writing much less doing anything else but sleeping but here we are after what I'm sure can be counted as forever. Anyways I feel like this story is when your partner just isn't getting it right and it's driving you crazy and you get a little ( or a lot) sassy. I'm so happy to have finally written something in so long and I hope you love it!

Word count-2.3K

Warnings- none unless you count cussing

Summary: Lately all your mate does is piss you off. And don't get it wrong you love him but you are more than ready to kick his ass.

You love Azriel with all of your heart, your whole being if you're being completely honest but lately he has done nothing but piss you off. It first started with him going on a mission during the middle of your cycle. Since the moment you knew Azirel was your mate you gave clear explicit instructions that Azriel was to be no more than five feet away from you during that time of the year unless it was for something of the utmost importance and could not be handled by anyone else. Imagine your surprise when he started grabbing his leather clothing after he had made you breakfast and had gotten you comfortable in your bed that could fit three grown Illyrian men. 

“And just where do you think you're going?” Azriel could feel like distaste dripping off of your words and hitting him in the back as he was faced away from you. It was no secret that Azriel loved you more than life itself and would do absolutely anything to keep you safe and happy but when you were on your period you could be a handful and more often than not you tested his never ending patience until you actually found the end of its supply. With a slow release of his breath he turns around to find you perched on the edge of the bed throwing an angry glare in his direction. “Listen baby” the shadowsinger slowly approached you like you were a wild animal ready to strike at any moment and honestly that comparison isn’t too far off with the way you look like you're ready to rip his head off of his shoulders. “You know I wouldn’t go unless I had to, yeah?” he kneels before you gently rubbing comforting circles on your bare thigh while giving you a soft smile reserved for only you. “Is the information you retrieve from this mission of that great value?” he watched as you paused waiting for the answer that both he and you already knew. “Is there no one else beneath you who could do it instead?” And while yes there were people beneath him that could handle this task, Azriel is a perfectionist and would like to make sure things get done right. “Is it so important that you must leave your mate during their cycle knowing the excruciating pain I endure? It's so important you must put this before your mate?” 

Azriel knew this conversation was a losing battle on his end but he also knew if he would like to be able to sleep next to you tonight that he must offer something to make up for it. “No my love, there isn’t anyone else who can handle this as they are all busy at the moment but don’t worry I will be back before dinner.”  Even as you glowered down at him all the shadowsinger could think about was two things. One, he is definitely in trouble and two, how stunning you look. “I don’t care if no one else can do it, get that brute of your brother to handle it.” You waved your hand in a dismissive way as if to send Cassian on this mission yourself and Azriel couldn’t help but lay his head on your legs and laugh and your attitude. 

The next time Azriel made you mad was during a family dinner with the inner circle. At first with all the new people, family dinners were a little awkward and unbearable mostly due to Cassians pinning over Nesta and her constant blatant rejection but also because of the middle sister's fascination with your mate. Did she know he was your mate? Yes. Did that stop her from having a crush? Absolutely not.

As you were getting ready to head down to Feyres and Rhysands new house you had made it clear he needed to put his foot down and tell Elain he was not and would never be interested in a relationship with her otherwise you would handle it yourself and Azriel knew that meant you would become your own nasiter version of Nesta and you would tear her down until she couldn’t even look you in the eyes. It may not be the best way to handle her crush but until Azriel when it came to dealing with people who had a crush on him you tended to leave your manners at the door. 

Everything was going well at the river house until you walked into the dinning room with Amren and spot your mate seated next to Elain on one side and Mor on the other side. The whole group could feel the shift in the temperature as it dropped and you gave a cold and pointed stare to your mate. Possessing the same powers as Rhysand you barged into his mind “What the hell is this?” without responding he gently shakes his head in a not right here manner and pleading with his eye for you to just let this go. Silently you take your seat across the table from him and sit next to your high lady and Amren. For the rest of the dinner you say nothing as your pin Azriel to his seat as your seething anger radiates off of you and hits him like a tidal wave over and over again never once giving him a break. 

“Y/n” Azriel had waited until after you had taken your bath and done your fifteen step skin and body care route and had gotten into bed with your current book you picked to read before approaching you. He gently sat down on the bed next to your legs and hopped you don;t make him sleep on the couch tonight.  “I know you're upset with what happened at dinner but it just happened one minute I was talking with Mor and the next Elain was ushering us all in to eat dinner and she just happened to sit next to me.” As he gave his explanation of the night's events you had closed your book and laid it in your lap and nodded silently in understanding waiting for your mate to be done talking. “Is that so?” you asked in a thoughtful way. Now Azriel has been with you long enough to know that tone of voice and that statement should strike the fear of every god into him and it definitely did. “Yes, I promise that's what happened.” Once again you nodded in understanding before tilting your head to the side with a confused look on your face. “So if that's all that happened then why would Elain feel comfortable sitting next to you knowing that you have a mate who cannot stand her crush on you? And didn’t I tell you to make sure Elain knew in no uncertain terms that her fantasy of having a relationship with you was nothing more than a fantasy and if she tried I would kill her?” Azriels heart dropped to his stomach as he listened to you talk, he had known that there was something he needed to do but as soon as he entered the house Cassian gave him a cup of a mysterious alcohol and Rhysand had beckoned him over to fill him in on the status of a mission one of his spies were on. And before he knew it Morrgian had whisked him away to talk about her journey on the continent and the information she had obtained while there and the next thing he knew he was sat between the girl he used to have a crush on and the girl who currently has a crush on him. Candidly he knew he was fucked. 

“Let's go with your version of events like you said they happened shall we? I am going to assume you got too busy with everyone to tell Elain to knock off her childish behavior, which you would have done in a much nicer way because you are you. Then why didn’t you say anything to her when I walked in or better yet why didn’t you get up to sit next to me instead?” As a professional interrogator your mate knew you had just walked him into a trap and for a split second he wondered why you didn’t have his job instead. “Baby you know both of those options would have been rude and probably would have ruined the dinner.” Nodding in fake understanding you inspect your nails giving it a brief second before responding “And you are the shadowsinger of the night court. One of the most feared males in Prythian and you couldn’t muster up the courage to say something to Elain? How ironic is that.” You scoffed and shook your head in a surprised manner and needless to say he ended up sleeping on the couch that night. 

The last straw was watching Azriel train the valkyries and watching them not so subtly drool over your mate. You wouldn’t be one to blame them if they had done so in a respectful way but they were bluntly flirting with your mate right in front of you. One thing you loved about Azriel was how secure he was in your relationship. No one could make him look in the direction that wasn’t you, if someone was trying to flirt with him he didn’t register it unless it was you. And normally you wouldn’t have a problem with that except three girls were currently trying to make a pass at him and he had no reaction. Most would take that in a positive way but not you, you wanted him to shut that down the second it started and make a clear line in the sand on what was expected from the student-teacher relationship amongst him and the Valkyries he was training. “Azriel!” You had barely shouted his name from across the training platform on the house of wind but it felt as if you had. He turned around to see you leaned against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest and face set in a scowl while glaring at him. Turing to look at the trainees before him he instructs them on what to do next before quickly making his way to you. “Yes my love?” he asks in such a hushed and concerned tone that you almost forget what you called him over to yell at him about, but over his shoulder you see one of the girls check him out and suddenly you remembered all over again what it was that you needed to speak to him about. “You need to tell your students to stop checking you out and to close their mouths before they start drooling all over themselves.” Your mate's face scrunched in confusion. Azriel may be an excellent observer but when it came to himself not so much. He couldn’t see his own beauty that was hand crafted from the gods themselves, he couldn;t see how his quiet and standoffish personality drew people in, he couldn't see all of the things that you loved about him could all be the reason that other people lust after him. 

His shadows gave him a play by play of what his students had been doing while he wasn’t focused on each person in particular and how you had been brewing in your anger in the corner by yourself. As soon as you put on your fighting leathers this morning Azriel knew he was doomed as it was your ritual to fight each other everyday during training but seeing you in the corner pissed that other people had been checking him out brought his demise to a whole nother level. Azriel subtly glanced down at where your arms were crossed over your chest and he thanked the gods for your outfit. “You sound a little upset, my love.” Once more you send him one of your signature pointed looks “Yeah you would be upset also if the roles were reversed.” He shrugs slightly while tilting his head and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer to his body. “You’re not wrong I would be upset because nobody gets to look at you that way unless it's me.” He pulls you even closer to his body until you’re chest to chest with him and he bends down to whisper in your ear. “Beat me in a match and I will make sure they know I’m no one else's but yours. I'll let you claim me anyway you want, hell I’ll even let you do it in front of them if that will make you feel better.” Both you and Azriel knew the game he was playing at but neither of you cared, well him less than you. You pulled away slightly to look up at your mate and see the smirk resting upon his very kissable looking lips “Sounds like a deal to me because I’ve been wanting to kick your ass all week.” 

The shadowsinger followed behind you with a laugh and he shook his head in amusement while taking in your figure from behind. He watched as you got into your fighting stance and waited for him to do the same. He held his hand up to signal you to give him a moment. Turning around to look at the Valkyries in training he gathered their attention without saying a word. “I think it's about time to see what the last remaining real valkyrie looks light during a fight and maybe then you can aspire to be a fraction of as good as my beautiful mate is.” He turned back around to see you glowing with confidence, determination and love, but also the want to make sure you won his bet. Gods he knew this was going to lead to some great sex after you kicked his ass and he couldn’t be looking forward to it more.

#acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel one shot #azriel shadowsinger

[danikamariewrites]

Together for the First Time

Feysand x reader

A/n: happy Poly week! I’m so excited to be doing this and reading what everyone else has come up with. Today is Day 1 which is beginnings. I decided to do when Feysand and reader start being open with the Inner Circle about their relationship and of course Cassian’s inability to keep a secret. @polyacotarweek

Warnings: none

For the first time in two hundred years Cassian was actually early for a meeting with his brothers. He even had a lil pep in his step. Things were good, great even. He and Nesta were good, Nyx loved spending time with him, the family was at peace. Nothing could ruin Cassian’s day.

A giggle from inside Rhys’s office interrupted his thoughts. It sounded unfamiliar.

Creeping closer to the door Cassian finds it cracked open. Willing his massive body to be stealthy he holds his breath and listens.

That sweet giggle rings through the room again along with Rhys and Feyre’s laughter. Odd. Cassian wasn’t aware of any other meetings today. He was supposed to take up all of his brothers’ time today.

“Alright,” that voice. Cassian knows that voice. Where has he heard that voice?

“We should probably go get Nyx from his nap together. Since Rhys put him down he’s going to want us.”

Cassian slightly turned his head to look through the cracked door. The sight had his jaw unhinging, practically hitting the floor. Rhys kissing Feyre then you. You, y/n! With his brother and Feyre! When on earth did this happen?

Cassian began to panic. Oh Mother, what if he’s the only one that knows? Cass won’t be able to keep his mouth shut.

As you and Feyre made your way to the door Cassian began to jog as quietly as possible around the corner. Peaking, he watched you and Feyre walk down the hall hand in hand.

Plastering himself against the wall he waits a few moments before heading into Rhys’s office. Composing himself he enters the office ready to give Rhys his update about the Illyrian army.

———

Rhys thought about his brother's odd behavior as he followed the sound of his son's playful giggles. What on earth had Cassian so jumpy and tense?

He shook his head forgetting all about the stressful conversation.

Upon seeing you and Feyre playing with Nyx his smile widened. Sitting on the floor Rhys began to hand his son blocks for the little village he was focused on constructing.

“Are you two sure you want to do this tonight?” You ask from your spot in the corner of the room, propped up by the mountain the size of Ramiel of Nyx’s stuffed toys.

Feyre and Rhys give you a sad look. “Why wouldn’t we be sure?” Rhys coos at you.

You shrug at them, looking away absentmindedly playing with the wing of a stuffed owl. “What if the family doesn’t accept us, me?”

They move to either side of you, squishing you in a side hug. “Of course they will. And even if they don’t it doesn’t matter.” “You’re positive?”

“Sweet girl, you are our mate. Of course we are sure.” Rhys kisses your forehead as Feyre kisses your cheek. Nyx huffs, feeling left out the small boy yells, “Hey! No fair, I want kisses too!” He throws his small body onto the three of you. Knocking you back into the stuffed animals in a fit of giggles.

———

Dinner started with light conversation and a delicious appetizer thanks to Elain. You sit with Rhys and Feyre at the end of the table. Your chair very close to the two of them.

Cassian felt like he was going to explode. He has kept this gods damned secret to himself all day. Another new record.

As the main course appears with a wave of Rhys’s hand he clears his throat. The family’s attention turns to him. All happy and content faces.

“Feyre and I have exciting news to share with you.” The two look at you, bright smiles on their faces as the bond hums between the three of you.

Anticipation coursed through the room as Rhys grasped your hand, giving it a loving squeeze.

“We have discovered a triad bond. Between myself, Feyre, and y/n.” He said happily, beaming at his friends. You couldn’t look at them. Holding your breath your eyes dart around everyone’s faces.

You found nothing but love and acceptance. Mor raised her wine glass, “Congratulations! This is rare, but wow! You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

The rest raise their glasses cheering, “here, here!”

At that hour anxiety was relieved. It seemed so was Cassian’s. After taking a huge gulp of wine Cass he breathed out the loudest sigh of relief. His head hitting the table. “Thank the Mother!” Everyone looked at him, Azriel let out one of those rare laughs at his brother's antics. “Cass?” Feyre asks with a chuckle.

“I saw you and y/n earlier coming out of the office, I also saw you guys in the office because I was early. I’ve been keeping this damn secret all day and thank gods you said something!” He rambled.

“Wait,” Rhys looks at him with a raised brow, “you were early?

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #feyre x you #feyre x reader #Feyre archeron #feyre acotar #feyreandrhysand #rhysand x you #rhysand x reader #rhysand acotar #poly!feysand x you #poly!feysand #poly!feysand x reader #poly+acotarweek2024 #poly+acotarweek2024 d1

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 2

A longer chapter today because it didn't want to end. It's Steve finishing all the costumes.

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

Part 1

****

Steve worked on Max’s costume first. Like Robin’s Max was going to be a pirate. He had the names of a couple of lady pirates in his back pocket for them to pull out if they ran across assholes at the Fair.

Because Max was underaged he set out to find a less form fitting costume then Robin’s.

He found a large men’s black shirt and pants and tailored the waist to fit Max’s slender form. Paired with the boots and the hippie vest he dyed red, she looked bitchin’.

Then he focused on Lucas’s costume in secret. Every time someone came by, Steve would hide it out of sight. He didn’t want anyone to see it before it done.

Whenever anyone would ask about it he would pull out the tunic that he had been working on for his costume.

It was blue and white in a checkerboard pattern. Blue on the right of the top portion and then on the left on the bottom portion.

The pants that he was using for Lucas’s costume were similar to Steve’s for his.

Not loose like Max’s, but not tight like Robin’s. He knows it’s technically inaccurate, but he wants to be comfortable and he’s not about to make a poor little sophomore to-be uncomfortable either.

He finishes it with a week to spare and then picks up the other outfits from the moms.

He throws a party and has them all make their own weapons for their costumes.

Lucas is the only one that didn’t join in.

Steve put his arm around Lucas. “So why aren’t you in there making something, too?”

Dustin is making a spear, Max is making a cutlass, and even El is making healing potions with water and food coloring.

“I don’t know what to make,” Lucas admitted shyly.

“What does your ranger use?”

“A bow,” Lucas said. “But I wouldn’t know even where to start with that.”

Steve smiled. “A bow’s easy. Come on, I’ll show you.”

He helped Lucas build up a stick with toilet paper and aluminum foil.

“Shouldn’t it be curved?” Lucas asked as Steve was putting on the handle.

“Nope!” Steve said cheerfully. “It curves when the bow is strung.” He added the long string and the bow bent. “See?”

“Oh!”

Lucas pulled back on the string and the bow bent further.

“It’s more for looks,” Steve said with a wince when the bow remained bent. He straightened it out. “But let’s make you a quiver. No arrows though, your mom would kill me.”

Lucas laughed.

“It’s so cool you know all this stuff, Steve,” Will said. “Why don’t you ever want to join us for D&D? I think you’d be really good at it.”

Steve flushed. “Too much math and I’m not very good at the role-playing part.”

“What would you do if you could play any character?” Eddie asked. “It doesn’t have to be any of the classes or races.”

Steve licked his lips. “You won’t make fun of me for it?”

Everyone looked down at their feet. They were swiftly learning that teasing Steve was one thing, but that they tended to take it too far.

“Go on,” Eddie urged. “If anyone makes fun of you for it, I’ll nuke their character to hell.” He grinned at all the kids.

“That has no effect on me,” Max said, tossing her hair back. “I’m not in your nerd game.”

“Whatever you say, zoomer,” Eddie said with a wink.

She gasped. “Who told?!”

El tilted her head to the side. “Why? Is a zoomer a bad thing?”

Max deflated. “No.”

Eddie winked at El and the girl blushed.

“So Stevie, what would you like to be?”

“The merchant.”

“But that’s–” Mike stopped when he saw Eddie’s glare. He licked his lips. “Wouldn’t it be more fun to be the hero?”

Steve tilted his head to the side and then scratched his cheek. “Um...I’m not trying to brag here. But I’ve been the hero in real life. It’s not fun. It’s terrifying. But being able to armor and arm the heroes? Make sure they have everything they need to succeed? Now there’s the dream.”

Eddie rubbed his bottom lip thoughtfully.

“That’s his DM thinking face,” Dustin said.

“Is that a bad thing?” El asked.

Lucas shrugged. “Sometimes. It can end in us fighting the worst Big Bad ever. But it can just make things more interesting. Like a tidbit of backstory for one of the NPCs.”

“So a former hero who has retired and settled down with the love of their life to sell the fruits of their travels...” Eddie spoke out loud more to himself than to everyone else. “Magic items, healing potions, weapons and armor the shopkeeper is willing to part with now that they’ve settled down.” He looked up at Steve with a grin. “I like it.”

Steve blushed hard.

Will lit up. “Does that mean the next merchant we meet is going to be Steve?”

Eddie’s grin got bigger. “Anybody have a problem with that?”

Everyone turned to look at Mike. “Hey, I don’t care what your NPCs do, man. As long as the story’s good.”

Steve’s blush spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears and down the column of his neck.

He cleared his throat. “Everyone done with their weapons? Because I think we should do a final fitting so we can make sure nothing needs to be adjusted.”

“Why?” Will asked. “Don’t you think our mom’s did a good enough job?”

Dustin crossed his arms. “Yeah. I thought you trusted our moms.”

Steve sighed. “It’s because you’re adolescences. Your bodies are always constantly changing. Lose weight, grow two inches, fill out in weird areas. I just want to make sure everyone is going to have a good time next week, okay?”

Will and Dustin looked at each other and then nodded.

“Yeah, okay,” Dustin conceded.

“There are three bathroom and four bedrooms,” Steve announced. “So there should be rooms for everyone to change into their costumes.”

They all grabbed their costumes and then dashed for their favorite rooms to try and get there first. Max beat Dustin to the upstairs bathroom, sticking her tongue out at him before slamming the door. So Dustin got Steve’s bedroom.

All the other kids went scrambling for the other bathrooms and bedrooms while Lucas was left standing in the middle of front room, looking down at his sneakers.

“Did you want to try yours on right now?” Steve asked, leaning down to try and look Lucas in the eye.

“I don’t know if I want to be an elf anymore,” he muttered darkly.

Eddie and Steve shared a concerned glance.

“Did someone say something?” Eddie asked. “You were really happy about it when you were making the bow with Steve.”

“Not really,” Lucas said with a shrug. “I just kept thinking about the ears. I know I can have Will draw some really good ones, and he wouldn’t give me shit about it, but...”

Steve sighed. “But you know that Mike would. Fuck, I’m going to kill that kid.”

Lucas waved his hands. “No, no. It’s fine. I’ve got an old pirate costume from a school play I did. I’ll just join Queen Max’s crew.”

Eddie licked his lips. He didn’t have them yet. Jeff was still making them. He shared another glance with Steve.

Steve nodded.

Eddie turned back to Lucas. “It’s up to you, man. But Stevie and I have something in the works regarding the ear situation.”

Lucas glanced between Eddie and Steve but couldn’t find any indication that they were mocking him.

“This isn’t a prank to make me look stupid, is it?” he asked, just to be sure.

“Scout’s honor,” Steve said holding up the correct salute.

Eddie snorted. “Of course you were a boy scout. Could you be any more perfect?”

Steve blushed and ducked his head bashfully. “I’m really not.”

“Anyway,” Eddie huffed, shoving his hands in his back pockets. “Try on the outfit at least. Because you don’t have to be an elf with the costume Stevie made for you. But at least see it before you dismiss the idea completely out of hand.”

Lucas took a deep breath. “Yeah. You’re right. I’m being stupid. I shouldn’t care what they think anyway. Just as long as I’m having fun.”

“That’s the spirit!” Eddie said clapping him on the shoulder. “So where is this masterpiece, my liege?”

Steve walked up to the sofa and pulled out a plastic bag. He thrust it at Lucas’s chest.

Lucas looked down at the bag a moment before taking it from him. He pulled out the warm grey breeches first. They weren’t the broad kind that Steve had made for Max, but they were loose enough that they would hang a little over the top of the boots.

“They’re so soft...” he whispered.

“They’re made out of light weight material to keep you cool,” Steve explained. “There will be absolutely no heat stroke or heat exhaustion on my watch.”

Lucas let out a small huff of laughter and he took that as one for the win column.

He then pulled out the pale blue gambeson, it was trimmed in antique silver ribbon.

“It’s not strictly historically accurate,” Steve said with a shrug. “But I figured I could take liberties considering it was supposed to be fantasy based.”

“Steve...” Lucas said, voice rough from emotion. “It’s perfect.”

He threw his arms around Steve and hugged him tightly and Steve hugged him back twice as fierce.

“Let’s put these away for now,” Eddie said gently tugging them from Lucas’s grasp. “You try them on after everyone leaves.”

Lucas nodded and let Eddie pull them away, but he kept hugging Steve.

Suddenly there was a burst of activity as the other kids came back. Robin, too.

Steve let go of Lucas to take a look at his ragtag crew of misfits. Robin and Max’s costumes he knew would fit to perfection. His exacting standards would bow to nothing less.

The costumes that Joyce and Claudia made were good too. He let out a little breath through his nose.

“Looking great, guys!” he told them. He tugged Will’s tunic a bit. “You grew some, there.”

Will looked down and blushed. “I didn’t even realize.”

“That’s because you’ve been wearing shorts,” Steve explained, “so you just didn’t notice.”

“You were right to make sure the costumes still fit,” he murmured, trying to pull the tunic down to the right length.

Steve’s shoulders sagged. “You were just trying to defend your mom, dude. It’s fine.”

Will and Dustin still shared a look of chagrin anyway.

“I can add a couple of inches to the hem,” Steve continued. “I have some ribbon that will hide the extra material.”

Will nodded.

Steve moved on to Dustin and tugged on the side of his shirt under the vest and then tugged on the waistband too. “Don’t tell your mom this, but you’ve lost weight. She’ll freak out and try to feed you the entirety of your cupboard.”

Dustin blushed. Claudia Henderson was notorious for constantly feeding anyone who came through her door.

“But I’ll just pin it in case your weight fluctuates again,” Steve said. “The hazard of being teenagers unfortunately.”

Dustin nodded with a sigh of relief.

Max’s was perfect, as was El’s beautiful red dress.

But she was looking at the ground twisting her hands together.

“What’s up, Supergirl?” Eddie asked.

She looked over at Will and then down at her feet again. “I don’t want to be ungrateful. Joyce did an amazing job.”

Steve tilted his head. “But?”

She sighed. “But I was wanting a gold trim, but Joyce didn’t have any and I didn’t want to make her buy some...”

Steve held up a finger and then dashed off.

But he was back before they even had time to wonder where he had gone. In his hand was a cloth bag that he handed over to her. “Pick your ribbon. It’ll take me a day to add it to the dress, no problem.”

El looked down at the bag in shame. “Steve...”

He clicked his tongue. “I don’t want to hear it. I have to extend Will’s tunic anyway, adding ribbon to yours would be cinch in comparison. In fact, why don’t you both pick a matching ribbon to be twins.”

Will and El perked right up and the two of them wandered over to the sofa and began sorting through what Steve had.

That left Mike. Steve walked around the outfit. It had a white, billowy top with broad black pants and red tunic to watch El’s dress.

“Looks good, Mike,” he said. “Is there anything you’d want a little different? I don’t mind adding to your costume, too.”

Mike chewed his bottom lip. “There is the one thing. I asked Claudia about but she said she wouldn’t have the time...” He looked over at Dustin and blushed.

“What’s that?” Steve asked.

“Little...” Mike grunted. “I don’t know what they’re called. They aren’t strings or tassels, but kinda a cross between the two to kinda hang down off shoulder of the tunic...”

Steve pulled out his drawing pad and doodled something out really quick. Mike peered over his shoulder.

“A little more spaced,” Mike muttered.

Steve erased and doodled some more.

“Yeah, like that.”

Steve nodded. “I can do it, but you want to see something cool?”

Miked nodded back and Steve left the room again. He came back with a weird little device.

“This is what I use to make tassels,” he explained. “I’m betting Claudia doesn’t have one.”

Everyone looked at Dustin.

“I’ve certainly never seen one if she has,” he replied.

Steve nodded again. “That’s what I thought.” He showed them how to make tassels and Mike’s face lit up.

“This so cool, Steve,” he whispered.

“Do you want to make your own tassels?” Steve asked, gleeful at finally finding a common ground with the prickly teen.

“Can I?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t see why not. You’ll just have to do it here. I’ll get the leather scraps from the tanners on Saturday and you can come over on Sunday to do it, okay?”

Mike nodded. “Thanks, man.”

El and Will picked out a nice braided gold ribbon and he set it aside, making a note to grab another spool to be on the safe side.

Soon it was time for everyone to leave.

Eddie took home Mike, El, and Will. Leaving Steve to take home Max, Lucas, and Robin.

Steve turned to Lucas. “You okay with these two seeing your costume?”

He figured Max was fine, but Robin might be a no go.

Lucas looked at her thoughtfully.

“I can go make us all lunch if you don’t want me to see it yet?” Robin suggested.

Max hopped up. “I can help. I want to be surprised next week.”

Lucas let out a sigh. “Thanks, ladies.”

Max rolled her eyes and Robin snorted as they wandered toward the kitchen.

Steve tossed Lucas the bag and immediately he began to strip. He put on the costume and ran his fingers over the material.

“Steve you really out did yourself.”

Steve grinned. “Bend, twist. Make sure you can move in it. I don’t want you popping a seam.”

Lucas did as he was told and Steve circled around him.

“Looks good,” he said. “Now go take a look in the mirror. Then tell me what you think.”

Lucas nodded.

Five minutes later Lucas came out with tears streaming down his face.

“Oh no!” Steve cried. “It’s that bad?”

Lucas shook his head and then launched himself into Steve’s arms. “It’s perfect, Steve. Thank you.”

Steve blushed. “You’re welcome.”

****

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #steve is a history nerd

[fischltao]

Jujutsu Kaisen NSFW

MINORS DNI!!!!!!!!

characters included: nanami kento, gojo satoru, higuruma hiromi, toji fushiguro

warnings: explicit smut, mentions of unprotected sex, belly bulge, breeding kink, size kink mentions, manhandling

afab!reader

nanami kento

nanami is a passionate lover. he doesn't care about one night stands or fwb situations. he will only fuck you if he's in love with you and you better believe he does it well. his thrusts are deep and hard and he's pretty vocal; he grunts and lets you know how good you're making him feel, all while whispering sweet nothings into your ear. it drives him i n s a n e when he feels your nails scratching down his back and your legs pulling his hips closer to yours. he's all about intimacy.

"fuck, you feel so good" he whispered as he delivered another deep thrust, making you whine and tighten around his hard cock "you like this?" thrust "so good for me" thrust "only for me"

gojo satoru

satoru hits so deep and hard, you are certain he is using his infinite domain on you. he grabs, bites, slaps and teases the fuck out of you but when he gets serious, it makes you feel like a chosen one for being able to receive what this man gives you. gojo will literally drive you insane. he'll look deep into your eyes as his hips snap against yours so harshly it makes you see stars and tells you his loves you as his hand presses down you stomach to feel the bulge his cock makes and it makes you cum so hard when you see him fall apart just for you.

"do you feel that?" he asks taking your much smaller hand and pressing it down your stomach and you nod, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the pressure heightens your pleasure to the maximum "you were made for me and i was just made for you"

higuruma hiromi

he's never felt the way he does when he's inside of you ever before. you are the love of his life, his heaven and fuck is he good at showing his love for you. he will fuck you against any surface of his penthouse. whether itd be the kitchen, his office or the pool table, he doesn't care the least, you're too insatiable to not be taken right then and there. secretely dreams about impregrating you. he doesn't have anything he feels proud for in his life but the moment his seed shoots deep inside your cervix, it just feels like a jigsaw falling into place

"gonna cum so deep inside of you, you want that too?" hiromi grunted, shooting down his whiskey as he fucked you hard on the pool table "gonna make you my wife, you're gonna look so pretty with your belly full of me"

toji fushiguro

his big hand fits so perfectly around your titties. he loves playing with them as he fucks you into oblivion. can manhandle you so easy, he can just throw you around and treat you so good. one moment you're bouncing on his cock and the other he's just harshly pounding you from behind and spreading your asscheeks open as his thumb plays with your asshole. a rough man for sure.

toji was moving in an inhumane speed, moving in and out of you so fast and it just felt so good, too good and you're sure you're about to pass out from the overstimulation "you're trying to run away from it but here you are still clenching around me, sweetheart" slap "be a good girl and take this cock like the whore you are"

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #higuruma #higuruma hiromi #higuruma smut #higuruma x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro #smut

[norrisleclercf1]

Mafia!Oscar Piastri Headcannons

A/N: heheheheh

Warnings: Angst, blood, gun wound, threats on life, bodyguard trope bitches, etc.

Having a bodyguard was not ideal

certainly when it's one who is young and very cute

he was just a shadow and kept his distance

your father was a very man who had many enemy's

that would do anything to you just to make a point to your dad

Oscar was his name, yet he rarely answered you when

you talked to him leading you to grumble

It's not that he was a stranger

you've seen him around your mother as he used to be

one of her guards, yet when someone sent a note

saying you were going to die

your father removed the best guard he had put them on you

Oscar was the head of the security and was no fool

to the world of Mafia as he too was your father's right

hand man

you knew that anything you did , said or much less looked

was being reporting back to your father

it was rather annoying when you couldn't even

breathe without oscar being there

Being quiet was not your thing you wanted to talk to

the man but he just kept his eyes forward and breathe

so still you sometimes thought he wasn't even breathing

the first time he spoke to you it took you by shock hearing

his accent, having always thought he might be British

but instead he was Australian and that made you

flushed

Oscar saw you trying to reach for a book in store

coming up behind you he grabs the book pressing you

between the shelf and his body

hands you the book saying here you go, no emotion

on his face, well you could say he was bored out of his mind

taking it you just nod and bolt off, your shadow right there

he slowly started to talk to you more and more

one night you couldn't sleep, poking your head out of your

door you see Oscar right across it, eyes alert seeing the movement

asks if something is wrong, grabbing his gun immediately

shaking your head no you admit that you can't sleep

Kinda glares at you, asking how that is his problem

cringing at his words, he was right

he's just your bodyguard not anything else

Sighing loudly, he moves from his spot and fits his body

through the door while you back up

walks to your bed and shrugs up his suit jacket and kicks off

his shoes and sits on your bed, back against the head board

and ankles crossed he closes is eyes

you ask what he's doing, but he doesn't answer

stomping over you crawl into your bed lying on your side, facing

him as Oscar just keep his eyes closed you hate the silence

you start talking first

about your life growing up

hating the violence, the secrecy and never having privacy

but you explain just how much you hate the bodyguards

Oscar opens one eye looking down at you

he asks if you hate him, but you look down at your hand

saying that you don't hate him, just that he doesn't

treat you like you're a person

but some object that could break if you even look at it

humming he closes the eye again

silent again you grow anxious when you feel a hand grab yours

you jerk at the movement, but calm seeing that it's Oscar's hand

his voice is low, telling you about his life in Australia

how he misses home, his family, but a part of him is glad

that he is here, that only one thing has kept him here

you ask him what it is, but his fingers squeeze yours

telling you that it's a secret

that night is filled with telling each other everything

how you loved art and wanted to travel the world and paint it

Oscar saying he came here when he was 12 and always heard

about you and how he became the best

9 months of Oscar being your bodyguard your father

decides to throw a ball, something Oscar strongly disagrees

with as the threat on your life is strong, but he waves it off

saying that Oscar should know his place and be quiet

Oscar storms to your room, in a silent fury

refuses to talk to anyone, even you who was able to get

the boy to laugh and smile

Oscar is glued to your side the entire night refusing to

let you grab your own drink or accept a dance from anyone

your father seeing this, grows red as he tells Oscar

to just dance with you

you blush but are excited as your feelings of friendship

have developed into something far more

not thinking twice, Oscar drags you to the middle of the floor

it's a soft song as he pulls you flushed against him scanning

the room, glaring at anyone who stares at you for too long

hand reaching up you turn his face down to look at you

telling him to relax and enjoy the moment

Oscar stops, eyes softening as he sees that smile

he loves so much

you blush resting your head on his chest as you two dance

He still blames himself for that night for losing focus

it happened so fast, the screams and gunfire

Oscar moves fast you're unable to even figure out

what is happening, something sharp and burning

hits you, but Oscar keeps you running as he heads for a secret

room that they use incase of an attack

getting there you both breath fast as men in Oscar's ear

piece communicate, dealing with the problem

the slight burn from earlier starts to hurt more as you groan

touching your side you pull away seeing crimson red on

your hand, whispering out an Oscar he turns from the door

ice filling his veins seeing the dark spot on your side grow

crying out, you didn't see Oscar move but his hand is on you

putting to much pressure that it was hurting

he shushes you as he directs you to lay down

Oscar mumbles something into his wrist

chaos in his ear he rips out his earpiece as he begs you

to keep your eyes open, that he wants to see those gorgeous

eyes, that you're not allowed to close them or he'll follow after you

tells you everything

that you're the reason he stayed in the Mafia

how he's loved you since you first met at the age of 12

Oscar always sneaking off to catch a glimpse of you painting

that he wants to go back to Australia and bring you with

to see his favorite places in your paintings

he'll take you around the world if you just keep your eyes open

help finally arrives, the other guards forced to remove

Oscar off you as he screams at you to keep your eyes open

keeps fighting them as he needs to be with you, that

he loves you and he should've said it earlier

after that night, your father was furious with Oscar

banning him and refuses him the knowledge if you are alive or not

Oscar is able to go home, but without you and it kills him

it was 4 months of not knowing if you lived and each time

he'd look at something beautiful he'd think of you and what

your painting would look like

comes home from the beach, trudging up the sand to see a

someone in a sundress on his patio staring out to the sea

drops everything as he rushes up the dunes and stairs

stops when he sees you, you alive and breathing

your eyes open

turning, you smile holding a paint brush and the sunset

on your canvas

"Show me the world?"

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #formula one #f1 scenario #mafia!f1 #mafia!oscar piastri #f1!mafia #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri blurb #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri headcannon #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri angst #f1 fluff #f1 angst

[nhlclover]

i can see you | jack hughes

summary: a secret relationship with your brothers teammate is becoming more and more difficult to keep hidden.

request: yes / no

warnings: semi-nsfw content, making out, implications of sex (i think?)

a/n: based on 'i can see you' by taylor swift. woah look at me posting!!! life got so busy recently so i am so sorry for not posting. thank you guys for the continuous support, it truly means the world. i might open requests again soon but i am balancing my summer job (camp counsellors 4 the win) so it might not be open for long. love you guys loads🩷 also I'm sorry i kinda hate this...

word count: 0.8k

Dawson and you walk into the reception area, taking in the sight of the entire Devil's roster dancing to Abba. You two step off to the side, grabbing glasses of wine from the bar and watching as your brother's teammates slightly embarrassed themselves. 

“Hey, man.” You hear his voice say. Looking to your right, he’s standing there, just feet away, in his new black Prada suit. The same suit you picked out as you spent 2 hours on the phone with Jack going over options. He looked chiselled in the suit which fit him in all the right places. You thanked his tailor in your head.

You never understood why your brother held off on introducing you to Jack. It took a couple of months before you were introduced to him at a game. Then you understood. Jack was the kind of guy you could easily become addicted to. His laugh, his humour, the way his eyes would make you feel like the only one in a room of hundreds.

“Wassup bud?” Your brother says, pulling Jack in for a hug. “You clean up nice. Your mom dress you tonight?”

“Not my mom, but I did have some help.” He chuckles. You know he’s talking about you but you don’t dare react to his comment.

The two of you were unsure how your brother would react to news of the two of you being... whatever you were. But suffice it to say you didn't think it would go well. To save both of you from being killed, you simply kept it a secret. Move fast and keep quiet.

“Oh don’t tell me someone was finally able to strap you down?” Dawson teases, clapping him on the shoulder.

Jack pushes Dawson's hand away giving him a playful shove. He turns to you, your breath catching as your eyes lock with one another. 

“How’re you, y/n?” He asks. 

“Uh just fine, thanks for asking.” You reply.

Brown Eyed Girl begins to play through the speakers and Dawson has already abandoned you in favour of Nico and Timo, who had both discarded their ties. 

“You look fantastic.” Jack says to you.

Your cheeks flush pink. Jack, loving his effect on you, flashes a delightful grin adding to the hue. “Thank you, Jack.”

He shoves a hand in his pants pocket, fishing around briefly before pulling out a small piece of paper. “Here.” Is all he says, pushing the scrap in your hand before walking back to the rest of the group.

You step off to the side, setting your wine glass down and unfolding the paper. Written in Jack's handwriting is ‘meet me @ midnight’. A small, uneven heart is drawn underneath. You smile to yourself, tucking the note into your handbag.

You join the rest of the wedding, spending the remaining hours thinking about Jack's note. The pair of you throw longing glances across the room to one another but don’t get close enough for more than a brush of knuckles. But that slight touch sent a rush of electricity from your hands to your feet. 

There are 5 minutes left till midnight when you excuse yourself from the still lively party, slipping down the hall of the country club that the bride and groom had chosen as their venue. Jack never told you where to meet him so you wander around, looking behind every door for the shaggy-haired boy. 

You had lost yourself within the corridors of the venue, having made a great many lefts and rights that you had lost track of. You keep walking until you finally spot a figure at the end of the hall staring out the window into the inky sky. 

The click of your heels makes Jack spin around. His necktie is loose around his collar, the top two buttons undone. 

“Hey.” You say softly.

“Holy shit.” Jack breathes out.

You stop in front of him, furrowing your eyebrows. “What?” You ask.

“You look fucking amazing.” 

Jack’s hands are on your hips as if being pulled to them by a magnetic force. He dips his head down, connecting your lips. He presses soft kisses to your lips, slowly trailing them down your jaw to your neck. Jack slips his arms from his suit jacket, throwing it to the floor.

His hands are back on hips as his lips are on yours. There’s a certain sense of hunger as you both know you don’t have much time. He walks you back, pressing you firmly between his firm body and the wall. Pinning a knee between your legs, he holds you up as his kiss weakens your knees. 

The pair of you are breathless when you break apart. His hair has fallen over his eyes, his lips a light scarlet colour. You reach up, brushing away his bangs. His lips hook to the left as he flashes a smirk. You pull him back in, feeling his lips smile against yours. 

The both of you are suddenly trying doorknobs, looking for an empty room. You finally slip into an empty dining room, you taking a seat on a table. His hands push up the skirt of your dress, the music from the wedding drowning out any noises the two of you made.

#nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #luvzegras #jack hughes #new jersey devils #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine

[narumi-gens]

Drunk Mind, Sober Heart

Miya Atsumu x gn!Reader

summary: They say that drunk words are sober thoughts. Unfortunately for you, that means Atsumu is about to find out about your big, embarrassing secret.

warnings: pure fluff, reader is a drunk mess, mention of vomiting and alcohol, husband!atsumu, established relationship, you and atsumu are simps for each other

notes: we’re back on the haikyuu train! I’m actually not sure if I like this but just wanted to get it out of my wips since it was already 75% written.

words: 1.2k

minors, ageless, and blank blogs do not interact

Atsumu hadn’t left you alone for long, just long enough to grab his phone charger from the nightstand. He was gone for a minute, maybe two. What could go wrong in a minute?

Apparently a lot. 

You’re still in the same spot that he left you. You’re still curled up on the bathroom floor next to the toilet. You’re still clutching tightly onto the pillow he gave you to keep you from being too uncomfortable on the hard tile. 

But when he left, you were completely passed out, drunkenly snoring and giving him a short break from “rubbing your back and making sure that you’re throwing up in the toilet and not on the floor” duty.

Now, you’re sobbing loudly into your pillow as you lay in a puddle of water, having knocked over the uncapped bottle he had set aside for you. 

The sight instantly has him panicking, dropping his charger onto the counter and kneeling down next to you in the puddle. He picks up the bottle and sets it aside, not that doing so is much use considering most of the water is now on the bathroom floor.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he tries to gently shush you. “What’s wrong? Do ya gotta puke again?”

It seems to be the wrong question to ask because it only has you crying harder. 

“Baby, it’s okay,” he assures you, running his hand soothingly up and down your side. 

“S’not!” you wail and Atsumu finds himself impressed by his own sense of hearing to have been able to comprehend what you’re saying through your sobs.

“Yeah, it is. C’mon, it’s alright,” he says, still doing his best to try and talk you down. “What’s wrong? Let me help.”

“No!” you continue to protest, burying your face even further into your pillow. Your sobs have devolved into loud, pathetic hiccups. “Don’t wanna tell you. S’embarrassing…”

“Ya don’t gotta feel embarrassed!” he says. “At least ya puked in the bushes and not in the Uber. Yer ahead of me on that one.”

“No! S’not that!” you argue, looking up from your pillow to give him a pitiful glare that makes you look like an angry kitten. Atsumu is overcome with the urge to grab his phone so he can take a picture but knows that it would send you into another fit of sobs.

“Then what is it?” he asks patiently and you flop onto your back, your head resting on your pillow as you frown at the ceiling. 

“M’embarrassed,” you sniffle, tears continuing to leak from your eyes. 

“Baby, about what?”

Your features scrunch together unattractively before you cover your face with your hands. 

“I’m so in love with you that it’s embarrassing!” you cry, your voice muffled, and Atsumu is at a loss at your…confession. It takes a moment before he knows how to respond.

“…we’ve been married fer two years,” he says slowly, his eyebrows furrowing together. “I would hope ya love me.”

“You don’t get it!” you whine, dropping your hands and doing your best to sit up and face him, although you end up needing to rest your entire weight on the toilet. “It’s like I have this huuuuge crush on you.”

He can feel the grin threatening to break out across his lips and quickly bites down on the inside of his cheek before it can. Instead, he reaches out a hand to affectionately play with the ends of your hair only for you to weakly slap him away.

“Sometimes when you send me a text saying you love me, I squeal into a pillow,” you softly tell him through sniffles, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “And sometimes I just look through my pictures of you and get all flustered.”

The grin he was trying so hard to hold back begins to peek through and he has to slap a hand over his mouth to hide it. Thankfully, you’re too drunk to notice. 

“And it’s so embarrassing to be such a mess in front of my crush,” you pout before wiping your messy face with the back of your wrist, not that it really does any good.

“Ya don’t gotta feel embarrassed about any of it,” he repeats with a fond look. “If anything, this makes me love ya even more.”

Your expression finally seems to soften, your drunken angst beginning to fade into something much more shy.

“Really?” you ask through another sniffle.

“Yeah, I promised to love ya in sickness and in health, didn’t I?” he smiles and you giggle.

But before he can make a dumb joke about drunkenness being the worst kind of sickness out there, a look that he’s become only too familiar with over the last few hours crosses your face. You rush to turn away from him and he’s back on “rubbing your back and making sure that you’re throwing up in the toilet and not on the floor” duty.

The next morning sees you doing better, but not by much. The lights in the apartment are all off and the blinds on all of the windows are closed. The only source of light comes from the tv, which is quietly playing some trashy reality show that’s ostensibly about selling real estate but is actually about who’s sleeping with the owner of the brokerage. 

The duvet from your bed is wrapped around you like a burrito as you’re laid out pathetically on the couch with a sports drink clutched tightly in your grip like a lifeline. You’re grateful that Atsumu keeps so many of them in the refrigerator and you swear to yourself that you won’t make fun of him anymore for how much space they take up.

You’re roused from wallowing over your pitiful state when you hear the front door opening and you slouch further into the couch. But when Atsumu finally appears around the corner, your face lights up as you see that he’s proudly holding up a takeout bag coated in grease stains. 

“I got ya just what the doctor prescribed,” he grins and you sit up as best you can with the blanket wrapped so tightly around you. 

“Oh, you’re a godsend,” you moan as you grab the bag from his hands. You open it and happily inhale the scent of the burger and fries inside. 

He preens at your praise and lifts your legs so that he can sit down beside you before setting them down in his lap. You’re too busy shoveling the fries into your mouth to even care. But after a few minutes, you feel his gaze on you.

When you look up, you freeze at the sight of him watching you with big heart eyes and a wide, dopey grin. 

“What?” you ask him through an unattractive mouthful of half-eaten fries. 

“Nothin’,” he shrugs. However, the look on his face says anything but and your eyes narrow suspiciously. “Just, I heard from a little birdie that ya got a pretty big crush.”

Your hand pauses in mid-air, halfway to shoving another handful of fries into your already full mouth. Atsumu’s grin grows wider at your reaction.

“Y’know, I got a pretty big crush too.”

All you can do is mutter in embarrassment what he thinks is, “shut up,” but sounds like “shha amph,” as you refuse to meet his gaze and Atsumu feels his crush on you growing bigger, even as he laughs obnoxiously in your face. 

#tw vomit #tw alcohol #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #mel writes #drunk mind sober heart

[dxxdhood]

the manor

pairing: 1920s!dick grayson x fem!bartender!reader

summary: while working at a hidden bar during the prohibition, you meet a handsome stranger who invites you to a party. little did you know, you just enchanted dick grayson, one of richest men in gotham.

tags: 1920s au, smut (18+), oral (f receiving), alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, teasing, p in v, angst, fluff

wc: 4.1k

It's so cramped, trying to fit in dozens of chairs in the glorified excuse for a room, but you love the place. Laughing heard in every direction, the strong smell of your drinks, and the fumbled clinking of glasses by every patron– the speakeasy has it all. Sure, the constant threat of having the wrong person walk in and decide to report the place still manages to make you twitch on occasion, but for the most part, you don’t let it throw you off your game. Instead, you let yourself take in the fading lamps all around you, dimly lighting up the faces of regulars or reflecting into the glossy wood paneling. 

“Hey, doll. You wouldn’t mind pouring me another old fashioned, would you?”

And just like that, you get taken out of it. You fix the man his drink unenthusiastically, and as he attempts to chat you up, you try your best to tune it out. Although it’s difficult to give enough of a response to placate him while also clearing hinting you’re uninterested, you make a valiant effort. He leaves with a grumble to join his friends at an overflowing table in the back.

You’re about to wipe down the counter again as an excuse to stay occupied when you spot him. A man, well put-together but not obnoxiously so. His hair is slightly long, falling effortlessly across his forehead and curving around his cheeks to frame his face. His suit is nice – nicer than most of what the regulars wear – but not overindulgently. It was more odd that he showed up in a suit at all, seeing as this bar was a more casual affair. And, though you didn’t want to acknowledge it, he was very handsome. Just the small amount of his face you’re able to see through the dim has you interested.

Luckily, he walks straight to you, sitting at a stool right in the middle of the counter. You attempt to give him a moment or so of silence, because he could definitely be meeting someone here tonight, but you can’t resist.

“Evening,” you say. “Haven’t seen you around here before, sir.”

“Just found out about this place. I can’t believe I didn’t know it was here this entire time,” he turns his gaze towards you. “It’s warm. Lively.”

His eyes are a gorgeous blue, but you try to avoid staring at him too intensely. “Well, the good people here know how to keep a secret when they need to.”

He chuckles, “I hear that. Any drinks I should try now that I’m here?”

And he’s magnetic, drawing groups from across the bar towards him, chatting him up so they can understand who the attractive stranger is. He’s so freely charismatic, engaging people he’s barely met in conversation– even involving you when you’re not too busy keeping all your orders straight. Unexpectedly, he’s confident without being arrogant, but also self-effacing without being self-deprecating. It’s an impressive balancing act, and he pulls it off without breaking a sweat.

You try not to get your hopes up past that first interaction, knowing that he’s far too invested in other people right now to pay any attention to the bartender of all people, but for some reason, he keeps peering back at you. Every laugh that rips through him and has him banging on the table, but at the end of his reaction, he looks back at you to see if you found the joke funny, too. It’s endearing, how he’s so attuned to everyone – even your – emotions, and you’d like to give more than short, snappy responses, but you’re swamped with drink requests as the night goes on. He ends up slipping away from you minute by minute even though he’s right in your line of sight.

Before you realize it, it's the early hours of the morning and almost everyone is shuffling out of the bar– if not because they finally have to, because they don’t want to worry their wives even more. The man, Dick, as you heard others calling out that evening, is still sitting at the counter in the very same spot. You try not to let your brain get ahead of itself, but still, him being out at this hour means he likely doesn’t have a wife to worry. You shake your head, chiding yourself for still being so taken with him. The night is over, he may leave and never come again.

He’s not speaking now, which is a shame because his voice is like velvet. He’s clearly had quite a few drinks tonight, so you place a glass of water in front of him as you begin wiping down tables to close the place.

His eyes widen as you leave him the water, and instead of drinking it or ignoring it, he keeps staring through the glass, foggy with condensation. He almost looks puzzled, but you can’t figure out why.

“Why did you give me this?” he chokes.

You immediately assume you’ve made a mistake, so you move quickly to cover yourself. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to. You just had a lot tonight, your head will be killing you in the morning.”

Dick is still silent. The entire room feels too large for the both of you and it’s making you antsy.

“You haven’t left yet, and it’s awfully late, so I’m not sure that anyone will be giving you a ride. If you’ll be walking home, it’d be good to get some water in you,” you continue. “So you won’t, ah, vomit before you manage to make it back to wherever you’re staying.”

You turn to face him from where you’re wiping down a chair and catch him staring. His gaze is intense, like he’s trying to read you and telegraph emotions all at once, and you’re not awake enough to compose a worthy response. He picks up the glass of water after a beat, seemingly content with whatever he found or didn’t find, and drinks it while looking at you through half-lidded eyes.

His brows are the same jet-black as his tousled hair, and having their full attention turned on you makes you unable to turn away. Your breath catches in your throat as you see a drop of water run from his lips, gently curving down his neck and soaking into his pristine shirt. You turn away, embarrassed to watch the muscles of his throat contract as he swallows, but you hear him speak clearly.

“This Sunday, after your shift, I’ll send for you,” he says. “I’m having a party at my place. Please, I want you there.”

You nod, probably mumbling an affirmative as well, too flustered to really comprehend what he just asked. Well, less asked– more demanded. You finish up cleaning the speakeasy in a daze, and find yourself counting down hours in the following days until Sunday night finally comes. 

.

You swear Dick told you he would pick you up, but the motorist who claims he was sent by “Master Dick” is obviously not him. The older gentleman is very polite, still, and you’re hesitant to ask too many questions in fear of sounding rude. The car itself is a sleek black, with a paint job like new. That, coupled with the fact that Dick apparently has a butler is already causing you to put some of the pieces together, but even from as much as you’ve gathered, you couldn’t have imagined he was rich enough to own his own manor.

The amount of wealth hoarded in the place is apparent. From the moment you reach the grounds, you see vibrant, perfectly kept lawns transforming into a luscious garden. There are so many flowers that you can't pick out their colors individually, they all blur into one from your bumpy car ride. There are mountains on property surrounding the main house itself, and you can’t tell whether that waterfall you spotted was real or a trick of the waning moonlight.

The kind butler lets you in through the front entrance and you thank him. Gasping at the sight, your body nearly jolts backwards. The place is filled to the brim with people. Even when compared to your speakeasy, the entire foyer of the manor is proportionately more crowded. Everywhere you look, people obscure your view, all wearing dazzling outfits in pearly, silver, or dark colors. You have the self-awareness to feel underdressed, but you push past it as you attempt to wrangle your way through the crowd.

The music is loud, whatever brass instruments are playing must be rooms away, but you can still hear them clearly from your place in the arching, large first room. Everything is so invasive, you aren’t able to hear your own breathing, footsteps, heart rate, or thoughts. It’s starting to make you dizzy. You nearly bump into guests holding champagne flutes multiple times, and you shiver at the thought of having to pay for the cost of cleaning their luxury outfits, but you manage to get out of the room and into one of the hallways of the building.

You want to cry in relief, but even though the hallway is sparser than the foyer, there are still plenty of people around. There are women wrapped in furs and men wearing suit jackets crisp enough they look freshly made. They can clearly see you don’t have an outfit a fraction as impressive as they do. What happens when they find out you’re a poor, unassuming bartender?

Speedwalking through the hallway and ignoring the generations of family portraits lining the walls, you find yourself blasted in the face with nothing but noise. The aggressive sounds of people dancing along to the band, heels clacking on the ballroom floor shakes you to your core, and you truly believe you’re going to turn around and leave right then until you spot him. He’s on the dancefloor, switching partners just about every measure, his wavy hair drenched in sweat but he couldn’t care less. Dick continues dancing wholeheartedly, stomping along and swinging ladies in opera gloves around. You should leave.

But of course, at that exact moment, he catches your eyes staring at him from the doorway. He mouths a word, something resembling your name, but you run without looking back. These rich people stare at you like you’re a wild animal, but you can’t care. The buzzing air of the place is starting to rot you from the inside. You need out of this manor now.

“Wait, please!” you hear a familiar voice cry out, and a moment later, a hand is wrapped around your arm.

“Let me go!” you shout, attempting to rip yourself from Dick’s grasp. He’s even prettier up close, wearing a tailored suit that hugs his broad shoulders. His hair must have been gelled back at some point, but it’s since come undone, and it’s working for him. By god, it’s working for him.

“Listen to me, I’m sorry,” he shouts, and he says something else after that, but you can’t make it out over the music and talking.

“What?” is all you can manage to respond with.

He shakes his head before changing his grip from your arm to your hand. He begins leading you somewhere without telling you, trusting you to follow him despite not giving you any reason to. You’re tempted to leave, but his palm is so warm, you find yourself going along.

Walking through a couple of sparsely populated rooms and a flight of stairs, you arrive at a balcony. It’s beautiful, carved out of sleek, white stone with planters of flowers overflowing and growing down the sides of the railing. Speechless, you run your hand along the vines and allow Dick to talk.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I should’ve told you… I know I should have, I just…”

“Why did you bring me here?” you ask, flicking your head to glare at him. “You have so, so, so many people here tonight. You could’ve chosen any one of them to toy with.”

You shake your head as you pinch your brow, “You didn’t need me.”

He doesn’t say anything, and you look up. Surprisingly, he looks hurt even though he doesn’t have any reason to be, like he’s decided to take on the loneliness you’ve been feeling this entire night as his responsibility– which to be fair, it is. Reaching for your hand, he encloses it in both of his.

“Is that what you think? That you’re here so I can fuck around with you?” he whispers it, but you can still pick up on the anger beneath his words. Although, it doesn’t sound like it’s directed at you. “You’re so kind, so genuine. You didn’t know me – still don’t – and you still gave a shit about me. Like a real, honest amount of care, not the airs the rest of these suits put on to impress me and get on my dad’s good side.”

“And I’m not sure why I did it, inviting you here. I was so drunk at the time, and all I could think was that I wanted to see you again. You were right, by the way” he gives a hollow laugh. “The next morning, my head hurt like hell. I couldn’t remember if I actually invited you or if I imagined it. I’m sure whatever bumbling explanation I gave Alfred must have been painful to hear, but he still agreed to wait outside your work– I need to thank him again. Anyway, anyway, I really shouldn’t have done this. You probably feel so terrible, this must have been so awful to go through. God, you deserve so much better.”

He brings your hand up to his lips and he kisses your knuckles, eyes still facing the balcony floor. “I hurt you. I can’t convey how sorry I am.”

In the light of the moon, with only the muffled sound of jazz to fill your mind, you step closer to him. He’s quivering as he watches you, as if you stand any threat to him. You keep closing the distance between the two of you until there’s only a few centimeters left. You’re so close you can hear his shallow inhales and exhales. 

“You can make it up to me,” you breathe, landing your lips on his, kissing him lightly. He doesn’t reciprocate at first, and though your eyes are closed, you assume he’s uncomfortable, so you start to pull away. After another moment, he leans into the kiss and wraps an arm around your waist, rubbing his thumb up and down your spine. 

He sighs, bringing up a hand to cup your cheek. You curl your arms around his shoulders, hooking them around his neck for support. His tongue explores your mouth, and you gasp into him. But he only uses the opening to his advantage, placing his hand on the back of your head and pulling you into the kiss. You feel all the air sucked straight out of your lungs, but you keep yourself attached to him until you reluctantly pull away to breathe again.

Dick moves his head back, getting a better view of your face and your rising chest. “I have an idea,” he says with a crooked smile.

“Oh, yeah?” you lick your lips, not missing how he zeros in on your tongue.

“Follow me,” and without any further explanation, you see him jump the balcony’s railing. 

“Dick!” you shout, running over to the side and trying to adjust your eyes to the dark. 

He’s alright, waving at you from the ground next to the rose bushes. “Come on! The jump looks worse than it actually is.”

“Easy for you to say,” you scoff, taking in the wide expanse of land that Dick’s family owns as a part of the manor. “What, haven’t you been riding horses your whole life?”

“How’d you know,” he quips with a smirk. “I was always a greater fan of gymnastics, though.”

“Great, that leaves hope for me.”

He gives a small chuckle, “Come on! Just try the jump. I’ll catch you, I promise.”

Shaking your head, you place both hands on the cold railing and engage your arm muscles. With a deep breath, you push off and for a chilling second, you feel yourself travel through the air before your feet eventually hit the ground. Dick’s there, as promised, holding you at the small of your back and wrapping an arm around your front to prevent you from falling over.

His head is resting next to your shoulder, and you can hear the breathiness in his voice as he whispers in your ear, “See, wasn't so bad.”

You nod, trying to disguise the wave of desire that runs through you. He seems to have himself under control, dashingly grabbing your hand and racing across the garden path. You can barely make out the twists and turns he’s taking as he leads you from the sparse topiaries and seating areas into the thicket of bushes. The further you both run, the more you struggle to catch your breath, but you still manage to take in the gorgeous flowers around you highlighted in the moonlight.

“I’ve never been anywhere this beautiful,” you say.

You glance back at him and find he was watching you while you were enamored with the scenery. You attempt to turn your head to the side in self-consciousness, but he brings a hand up to gently tilt your head to face him. His blue eyes pierce you, and you know even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t be able to break away from his gaze.

He kisses you again, and it feels like he’s trying to swallow you completely. Gripping onto your hips, he attempts to loosen his hands after a second, but you cover his hands with your own and keep him holding on. The action has him moaning into the kiss, and he pulls away from your face ever so slightly, lips still parted, to work down your neck.

You can feel his sweet kisses turn to nips quickly, and you bring up a hand to try and stifle the noises you let out, but he removes it from your mouth. Instead, your hands interlock as he leaves a bruise on your neck. He licks at it dutifully, but he quickly moves lower, nipping at your collarbone and mouthing at as much of the smooth expanse of your chest as he can reach from your outfit.

He thumbs at a peaking nipple through your clothes, and you whimper, rooting a hand in his hair to keep yourself from falling over. Dick lets out a curse, and he moves to rid you of your top, hands resting on the closure before he asks, “Is this okay?”

You nod desperately, tugging at the back of his jacket to get him to hurry up, and he lets out a deep chuckle. He wastes no time leaving you just in your bra and bottoms, and he reaches a hand to cup a breast through the fabric. He exhales through his nose, groaning as he pushes the soft skin out from the cup and brings his head to your chest, licking at your newly freed nipple.

He continues to play with your chest, biting at it and teasing you until both of your buds are hardened, and it makes you struggle to keep your breathing even. You can feel heat coarse through your entire body despite the cool night air surrounding you on all sides, and you want – need – more. 

“Dick,” you whisper, scratching at his back through his clothing. He peers up at you, meeting your gaze through his thick eyelashes and he seems to understand instantly. He peels off his jacket, leaving him only in his white button up, and he rolls up the sleeves to his elbows as he brings a hand down to cup your thigh. 

“Oh my god, please!” you call out as his thumb rubs against the inside of your thighs. His tongue is still at work playing with your chest, but he brings his hand up to rub against your slit, the slick soaking your panties.

“Fuck, already?” he says, dropping to his knees in front of you. Your eyes go wide, and your body heats up like you’ve been struck with a fever. “I’ve barely even touched you.”

He peels your panties down, pooling them at your ankles, and grips your hips as he brings his face to your core. Slowly, he runs his nose against your opening, teasing you so close to where you need him. Your breath catches in your throat as he licks your folds, finally reaching inside your heat. Your toes curl, and you plant both of your hands in his hair as his tongue graces your clit, swirling lightly.

He works gracefully, quick to give you pleasure but never too much of it. Whenever your moans become too loud, he moves from stimulating your clit to dipping into opening, or occasionally licking at your thighs. The coil inside you keeps growing tighter, and you have no idea how you’ve managed to stay upright for this long. His tongue makes you feel like you’re floating, like you could stay here your entire life and be perfectly content. You find yourself scratching at his scalp, and you can hear the vibrations of his moan on your clit as he laps at you.

That slight stimulation is so near to what you need, “I’m close.”

He stops without warning and you want to curse him for leaving you. He stands up without wasting any time, and he unzips himself from his tailored pants. You watch in awe as he gives himself a few strokes before pulling you closer to him, getting your permission before sliding into your folds.

He picks you up with a start, gripping at your thighs and allowing your ankles to interlock at his back. Your gasps turn into a guttural groan, and he kisses you roughly to stop yourselves from being heard. He works himself deeper inside you, patiently allowing himself to bottom out as your walls urge him on. Once he’s finally sheathed, he gives a small thrust and it has you shivering, wanting so much more.

He gives into your demands, setting a quick pace while kissing you, swallowing up every sound you make and keeping them from himself. He’s steady with his thrusts, trying to pace himself and keep himself on hold for you, but you snake your hand to wrap at the base of his neck. Without a warning, you pull at the strands there and he grunts into your mouth. Biting at your lip, he tightens his grip on your hips as pumps inside you faster.

“Holy shit, you’re so tight,” he gasps. “So warm, I could – fuck – I could stay inside you and never leave.” You scratch at his neck, wanting more from him to finally quell the heat that keeps burning inside you.

“Dick, I need–” you start, but are unable to finish, so distracted in your daze of pleasure.

“Yeah, darling? Tell me what you need.”

You shake your head, too far gone by this point to articulate anything, but Dick seems to understand, anyway. He moves a hand down to your clit, and begins rubbing precise circles on it, finally meeting you where you need him most. You feel your walls clench around him, swallowing him further inside and hitting you where you’re most sensitive. 

You open your mouth to warn him, but the words turn into a breathy moan as you cum around cock. Your climax rips through you, and every nerve lights on fire as you hear Dick briefly warn you before falling over the edge, too. Both of you lazily rut against each other, working through your joined orgasm together. 

When the world finally comes back into view, you feel so ready to faint, but Dick holds your shoulders and allows you to rest on him as he lays on the grass. The chill of the night air is finally reaching past your skin, and he throws his suit jacket on top of you. Both of you stay outside in the garden, watching the moon and the stars shine on you as the night slips by.

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x fem!reader #dick grayson smut #smut #nightwing #nightwing smut #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x you #nightwing x fem!reader #dc smut #dc comics #dc universe #angst #fluff

[ov105]

Express Moon

Never have I written anything where I switched leads so many times. It’s depicted as a quickie, but it’s writing process was anything but. I just had too many ladies that fit what happens when you read more. That being said, I’m probably taking a bit of a break, I still have ideas, but I need some time to flesh them out to begin writing.

Hopefully, this would do good despite the hectic changes that I did.

2,938 words of Jo Yuri. 

Enjoy!

Rubbing my forehead, I slammed my laptop down. The audible thud left me thinking I couldn't take this shit any longer. Grumbling, I decided to plop down on the couch and sleep it off. Hopefully, I'll return feeling like doing my tasks instead of giving my monitor a fistful. I also hoped, for about the second I looked outside, that it was just the storm making me moody.

Lying on the couch, I didn't want to turn on the TV. Reading anything but social media to not further my stress, I was already beginning to entertain the thought of eating the ramyeon or just going to sleep. It was neither of those.

Hearing the four beeps of the keypad lock shook me awake. It was Yuri, and she had only a slightly better disposition than I.

"Bad day?" I asked her.

"Yeah," she lightly nodded.

Sitting on the couch, Yuri put her backpack beside mine and snuggled beside me. She was getting lost in her world—through her phone—beside me. All I knew was she was reading another book on it.

Having moved to dorms just a train ride closer to campus, the only thing that separated us was an elevator ride. It was an open secret between our friend groups, which despite their best efforts, couldn't bust us. And I thought they were better than Dispatch. However, we agreed that we were in too deep at this rate. Yuri crashed into my place more often than she should, often only leaving to sleep in her bed. But besides that, she wasn't a menace either, if only that meant having to eat somewhat less.

But then, she gave me an idea of what she was thinking.

Yuri's left hand snuck down my shirt, dropping subtlety as she slipped in under my shorts and grabbed onto my shaft. Slowly massaging it, I could just imagine the silent giggle on her face.

"Yuri."

I called out, and she just turned to me. Grin on her face. Trying to beat her to it, I knew refusing a hot-blooded 21-year-old was a bad idea. I also needed something to take me off of things.

"On the floor," I pointed.

Yuri stood up, turned around, and pulled her shirt off herself. Wearing a black bra, I knew she matched it with her panties, proving myself right when she unbuttoned her pants—knowing that it was my favorite color of her underwear, one that made her blush when I had complimented her wearing it.

"Couldn't you wait until after dinner?" I asked.

"Dinner can wait."

She knelt without removing the rest, stripping me down until she was right before what she wanted. Barely able to count to ten from throwing my clothes away, opening my legs, and now licking my cock, already halfway erect, in its length before wrapping her lips around it. Her fingers came around like a ring on the base, cradling my balls as her mouth propped them up. Having confessed to liking the feeling of my cock becoming hard as her tongue worked around it. Closing her eyes, pulling her pace a bit, sucking with her lips and relishing it as her tongue cradled it, letting the soft tissues flood with blood, hardening into solid flesh that began striking her palate at every stroke.

As she held her hair up in a ball, I felt her throat starting to constrict a bit as it struck the back of her mouth, making it seem Yuri was wavering. However, she wasn't one to ruin her surprises too early. Spontaneity was more of my thing. Deciding to double down or pull her mouth back could only tell me if we were having sex. She did the latter, leaving my shaft hard and wet as her lips drew circles around the tip. On some days, she decided to play me longer, and this was one of those days.

Giving herself a better grip, she then pulled away. Only using her tongue, licking my cock, stroking it when she wanted to, and sometimes letting the saliva drip down her lips. Her eyes gave me that stare, far from blank or mindless, but told me all I needed to know; she just wanted to give me a blowjob that bad.

Having small, perfectly shaped lips for a blowjob, The way she had me, quite literally, on a tight grip that only her vagina could match. Grazing her lips along one side and her tongue down the other end before keeping it at the tip.

"You like it sloppy, right?" Yuri asked.

I meant to answer, but instead, an approving smirk formed on my lips.

"Alright."

Just then, she caged the tip, played around with it, and then dove down halfway. A loud slurp followed her mouth as she looped, then back down again, a messy slurping following as she rose back up. Opening her mouth at times just to see my cock appear and disappear back into it, again and again. The saliva she was carelessly putting everywhere now gave her all the leverage she needed over me. My cock, now frozen solid in her hands, the tip having glossed over from how much she licked it, the wick, her lusting mouth being the matchstick that had lit it just minutes ago.

A bobbing motion came over her as she closed her eyes and gently craned her neck, not too fast, not too slow. Just fitting enough to fit the crosshairs of what defined a perfectly sloppy blowjob. Maybe not, just biting my lip every time a shock came up from below and a twitch from watching her.

And even when she was at her sluttiest, she was still gentle enough not to play dirty, and when she had control—we were in each other's grip—it was odd to think of thrusting my hips now.

One, two, three; gawk, gawk, gawk.  

That was the sequence Yuri took. Seeing her small face bouncing so dirtily on my cock left me with few words nor synonyms to describe it.

Feeling her throat tightening up as it struck it, now that she was more daring, she didn't seem to mind. It was, however, not unusual to see her trying to fight her gagging on my cock, stopping for a bit before continuing. When she pulled back, I saw her lips trailing from saliva on my shaft or a string of spit from my head when she pulled away. And when she was sucking away, the feeling of her warm saliva trickling down my balls, onto her fingers, and then the couch.

Being her idea of a quickie, she skipped the corkscrewing and teasing to make sure I kept my load to myself. What she didn't know, whatever, was that I liked it more when she wasn't rushing. One thing she did, particularly when she was enjoying herself, was slip a finger inside her panties.

She was only using her mouth, her right hand resting on my thigh, with her left hand's fingers on my groin, still where she had them earlier. By this point, my cock was wet enough, with Yuri slobbering away. Taking a natural rhythm as her fingers slid between her folds, her head began to tilt left and right as she slowed down further. It was almost as if this was just one of her dreams when she was alone with herself.

A minute later, Yuri gagged. Pull back. She got carried away again. Just as she was about to wipe her lips with her hand, she caught my gaze, then, thinking for a second, licked her lips, then the side of her palm under it, wiping her drool off before she dove down on my tip again, carrying on like it was nothing to her.

It was about sending a message—malice—after all.

I didn't talk too much when she gave it to me. That was her department. Unless it was one of us getting closer, the way my expressions seemed, in her words, told her all she needed. I was an open book, for that matter, and apparently, I had let my guard down.

I just watched as she made good work of me, that for a moment, I forget I was a ticking bomb myself. Switching from using her lips and tongue, owning my cock as I presented it to her. Tightly wrapping and sucking hard, slowly but loudly, knowing we had all the time in the world, alone. Though for all her attitude, both of us only shared the kink of seeing one another trapped in pleasure, unable to run away unless we want to ruin our orgasms. 

Suddenly, she picked up her pace. A rapid guzzle replaced the slow slurping, my toes curled, and I moaned. It was an ambush from Yuri. Who looked up at me with a needy look in her eyes that told me she meant business. The same ones almost always stared at me in conversation from across the table, now expected me to blow my load down her throat. I knew better, she thought this would make me cum at that moment, as it had before, but I kept myself at bay, though just by a thin margin.

Finally, she let go, a loud pop, then a lick before she spoke again.

"You didn't cum?" she asked. I shook my head.

"Alright then, I'll help you out."

Yuri stood up with a wry smile before she unhooked her bra, then bent down, and when she rose, she was completely naked. Turning around to show her ass, she squatted down with her hand trying to find my cock. Not needing my help, she caught and stroked it a few times before sliding it between her ass and placing it right under herself. Feeling the warmth of her pussy as she poked it between her folds.

"This is what you meant by helping me out?" I teased.

Yuri didn't answer, instead flashing me a look as she let go of her hand and pushed downward. Sliding easily into her as I felt my tip poke inward, and without stopping, her moans only grew louder as the entirety of my shaft disappeared inside her. I felt myself shuddering as the squeezing of her slick walls threatened to make me cum so quickly. It never helps that we were doing this raw.

All that simply meant yes.

She placed her hands on my thighs as I did on her waist and began to ride me. Taking short hops that made sure she got used to taking me in again after a month. Throwing her head back, moaning and growling when she made her bounces longer, getting tighter by the second as we both eased into the act.

"Fuckkkk..," were the only words I could make out from Yuri as she hastened her pace. I was losing sight of her as she put her eyes off me, though what use were my eyes when she put all of me inside her. The long, slow bouncing she had grown to love in our time together was the only pace she assumed.

With another slap, Yuri then looked back at me, lip bitten. Slapping her ass as I put my hands around her hip, she asked.

"You like it fast or slow?"

"Just fast enough."

Yuri scoffed, turning away, closing her legs, and put her hands on mine. A beautiful display that, unfortunately, I was unable to see as I felt her pick up the pace. Every thrust seemed like the last as her thighs clashed with mine, taking me at full length as I began to twitch again. I felt my breathing getting heavy as I felt the familiar stiffening coming onto my hips, rendering me frozen.

Then, Yuri's orgasm came creeping in. I felt the shudder in her fingers, the shaky breaths, the shifting hips as she straightened her back. We began to lose it as we came close to cresting the edge. Being the bystander as she became more erratic, a sporadic pace replacing the controlled one I thought she could hold for longer. Trying to consider whether I should just let her loose and make either one of us cum first or tell her to turn around.

I made up my mind, and just as my lips opened to call her, nothing came out at first. By this point, she was also building up her release, like a string being pulled back by herself. I thought that, well, this was it. If she goes, so do I.

"Fuck!" Yuri cried out as she stopped, visibly shaking as she hung her head.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"I-it's too good," replying as she turned around. Her face was flushed. She was probably just that close. I heard her take deep breaths before she slipped off and stood up. My cock, hard and glistening, was now uncaged, twitching, and alone, but not for long. Turning around to kneel, Yuri parted her lips, pointed it with two fingers, kissed the tip, and then took it back in. In such sensitive conditions, I balled my fist as my breath left me to shut my eyes and just hang on.

Yuri then tried to talk with my cock in her mouth. It was gibberish. She was filling her mouth with it, after all. But I could make a question out of it.

"Are you going to cum now?"

I just nodded.

I thought she was going to finish me then and there. However, I was let go. This time, Yuri straddled me. Giving her tits a suckle before I staring up at her as she eased in, catching my gaze, then giving me one deep kiss as she captured my cock and slid back down on it. Letting go only to moan as she began to ride.

Figuring that I wouldn't last much longer, she was in a squat, the position that always struck—by prior reactions—the deepest, and with how hard she was riding me, our groins already slapping. I didn't need to wonder why she was so loud.

Putting her hands on my neck, she saw me glancing out the balcony window, feeling her hand push me to face her. Giving me another peck on the lips as her fingers dug in as rebounded to the same barely controlled pace she had earlier. Pushing her stamina to the limits as I felt her pussy begin to tighten up. It was worth the expense. Having already been at the cusp of it earlier, this was just a single sprint to her climax.

I might've even heard a growl somewhere. I hissed through my teeth, not even hearing myself as Yuri became tighter, no more than a powder keg waiting to blow. Anytime now, anytime now. Her eyes were darting about, looking down at her hips, bouncing and recoiling with every stroke, throwing her head up, groaning as she shut her eyes. And when she looked at me, I felt like a bystander.

I didn't even know where she got this much endurance every time she was so close to cumming. Still, I was slipping, and my legs were shaking like hers. We exchanged cusses and fluids as our bodies began to stiffen, with her placing her hands on my thighs as she arched her back to me while I held onto her ass. I told her I was cumming, but I don't think she heard me.

I went first. I felt my shaft turn into a rod as I burst. The first few shots took my breath with them, pushed down with my arms and toes curled along as I hit the couch and swung my head back. And then, Yuri followed, letting out one final scream as she abruptly cut her pace to a halt, letting out an exhale that rose in volume into a shrill moan, her arms shaking as she bawled her fists, her hips grinding as her expression bounced between a satisfying orgasm face into a scowl as she forced herself to move and get herself over with. As both of us shot past ourselves, her choking my cock to get every last drop of it, being the way she wanted it inside her.

I then felt her hand pushing my head straight, one tired breath from her as I opened my eyes, Yuri closing in, and we put our lips together. She was putting her legs down as we were both expended, sweaty messes as our foreheads were on one another and in an embrace as we caught our breaths.

Getting off of me, she was surprised at how much cum leaked out of her. Though having done this a few times, she knew what to grab, not to make a leaking mess of herself, save for a few drops. A stain was still on her legs, of course.

"Wanna go for a second round?" Yuri asked as she wiped and crumpled the tissue.

She was just as spent, and I always seemed to fall for that ruse.

"Where?"

"In the bedroom."

"I'm hungry now," I replied. Well, who wouldn't?

"Fine, after we shower, dinner," Yuri agreed, "Though you're eating me later."

Snarky, corny, but sassy, I just rolled my eyes and nodded, though that didn't mean we weren't showering together. I just gave up hope of dinner on time with a glance at the clock on my phone. It was still relatively early, after all. Looking at her as she opened the door, she turned around, waiting on me from the door, a last chance, if you will.

I just scoffed and stood up.

#jo yuri #yuri #izone #izone yuri #izone x reader #kpop #kpop smut

[thebearer]

ok but imagine inviting boyfriend Carmy over for dinner at your parents home and your parents being so nervous to cook for him but Carmy loves the food and ends up asking your mom to teach him the family recipe 😭 I just want chef carmyyyy

god he would be a wreck. only because he just assumes all families are insane and hectic like his is... but your isn't????

your mom is so nice, sweet, inviting. she offers him a drink, thanks him for the side dish he brought, something over the top but not obnoxious. he stressed for days about what to bring. wanted something that was impressive but not arrogant.

she asks him all about being a chef, showing that she proudly owned the magazine he was featured in after winning his james beard. "isn't that so funny? i have a subscription to these cooking magazines. i love to cook. i mean, i'm not as good as you are."

"no, no, i-i'm sure you're good. better, really." carmen blushes, anxious and a little overwhelmed. he had prepared himself for anything but this- nice, homely. "i had to go to school for it. you're good all on your own. this is delicious."

you beam because they're getting along so well. it sends your mom into an ego boost of conversation, sure she'll flaunt to all her friends about how your boyfriend, the infamous young chef, said her food was good. "darlene will never be able to say her cannolis are better because this young man right here just said mine are the best!" she's smitten at it really, and carmen is blushing.

they get in the kitchen and it's over, swapping out recipes and secrets. your mom shares with him your favorite meal, which is juvenile at best, so you get a little embarrassed. spaghetti and meatballs, it's so basic, you knew it was, but it was always your favorite.

"but she likes penne noodles, carmen. don't ask me why. i don't know." your mother waves her hand, scribbling down the recipe.

"mom," you groan, cheeks flooding with heat. carmen is more than amused, grinning back at you.

"and don't you dare leave a tomato chunk in that sauce, carmen, or god help you. oh, this child." she points at you, shaking her head, her tone exaggerated and dramatic- just like her. "i tried to do something different with my sauce one time. once. and this one throws a fit!"

"i was like seven, mom." you huff, rolling your eyes.

"yeah, and you threw a fit like a seventeen year old. it was crazy." your mom scoffs playfully. "anyways, i never did it again. never changed the sauce." she slides the index card over to carmen with a grin. "you might need it one day, carmen."

and he did. one day, when you had a bad day, just everything went wrong, on the brink of tears. carmen followed your mom's recipe. it was close to mikey's, a few minor changes like... sugar in the sauce? he wasn't sure, but he'd do it for you. rolled the meatballs out. even bought the penne pasta, even though every atom in his chef body was screaming at him at the abomination of it.

you walked in, smelling the all too familiar aroma on the stove, carmen- having a day off now that business was steady and established- just gave you a small smile.

you wanted to sob, but you didn't. sitting with him instead and letting him fuss over you. he stood, watching you take the first bite excitedly. "good?" he grinned.

you nodded. "better than my mom's. don't you dare tell her i said that." you smiled back.

he beamed. "don't you." he smirks, pressing a finger into your side playfully.

you do tell your mom what he did, and she is beaming. brags on him the next time she sees him, even throwing in a playful, "heard you've outdone me." with a wink.

carmen is a red, blushing mess. "i told you not to say that!"

"it was just a joke, carmy. she's teasing you."

#thebearer #carmen berzatto #bearblahs #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto

[moongreenlight]

Insane reader my beloved. Literally my babygirl.

@katz-chow been ruminating on this one just for you <3

CW: Gore and violence

Reader who shows up late to their first meeting with the task force. Rolls up in their dark sedan with blacked-out windows and one too many dents on the front bumper wearing civvies instead of the uniform they were given and instructed to wear.

Reader who is a privately hired detective with a talent for interrogations. Not officially a member of the task force or the military because the tactics they use are far less than legal. More a secret weapon on retainer for when doing things by the book doesn’t do the trick.

Reader who gets on the good sides of the task force boys by being sugary sweet and barely hiding their true colors. Skins and bleaches the skulls of interrogations gone South and gives them to Ghost insisting they’re better than the costume store shit he’s got on now.

Gifts Price expensive cigars tucked between the fingers of a severed hand. Drops them off in large pink boxes with delicate ribbons and giggles when he asks a thousand questions about why and how and what the fuck he was supposed to do with this.

Tosses Gaz new knives on the field when they’ve landed a kill or just wrenched them out of someone’s stomach. They make a game out of chucking the gore-slicked blades at one another’s heads to see if they can dodge in time.

Starts playing dodgeball with Soap where they toss his less-stable bombs and unpinned grenades back and forth. Only stops after they’ve accidentally blown up the camp two missions in a row. (Also heavily rumored they have tramp stamps of each other’s names because they’re both too stubborn to back down from a dare but that’s just for vibes)

Reader who gets flown out on specialty missions where a hostage really refuses to talk and takes matters into their own hands. Sometimes hopping on radio when they’re in transit and requesting the force pulls extra men so they can play a live game of operation. They’ve been watching videos on the dark web and the first two seasons of Grey’s Anatomy from their military issued laptop so it’s like an 80% chance all the hostages live.

Reader who stops being allowed to train rookies because the first and only faux-deployment they led they told the group they ran out of rations three days in to a two week long training and they had to play rock-paper-scissors to create a bracket of people to eat first. The mission gets called early when Price gets word that there was actually a field amputation done. Reader doesn’t even apologize, just laughs their way through a barely reasonable explanation. I didn’t think they’d actually do it.

Reader who begs the boys to let them play kill, kiss, marry, kill in the middle of a boring interrogation and when they get told no or to focus on the task at hand, they throw such a fit that they end up sending a screwdriver through the eye of the person they’re supposed to be interrogating.

Reader who brings their own kit to interrogations. Lugs around pincers, rusted blades, rotary bone saws, and dull axes in a flamingo pink toolbox. Sets it up on a small table in front of the hostage and unboxes it like an influencer showing off PR.

Reader who also stops being able to run conditioning and drills with rookies because they pitted the privates against one another during a sparring session. Saying something about whoever could sheath a blade in the other first got a bonus check before tossing a few knives on the mat and walking away. Gaz had to run over and tell them you weren’t serious when he saw blood.

Reader who insists on being able to puppeteer the decapitated head of an enemy grunt they took down and reciting a few lines of Shakespeare to the boys. Dragging the mission out because they know as well as the boys do that everyone is on their timeline.

Reader who dances around hostages that have been zip tied to chairs and beat within an inch of their life. Singsonging threats and having the boys drag the limp bodies of their chain of command across the floor.

Reader who pouts when their victims pass out during questioning after a few of their fingers have been chopped off with a butcher’s knife. Huffs like they’re being put through a massive inconvenience and fishes smelling salts out of their toolkit to wake the poor sap back up.

#gn!reader but soooooooooo babygirl ykwim? #cod mw2 #moongreenlight #moongreenlightwrites #call of duty #cod x reader #141 headcanons #drabble

[demonicbaby666]

Birthday Expectations

One shot | Once Upon a Time Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Once Upon a Time

Pairing: Regina Mills x fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Words: 3k+

Summary: Just some birthday fluff, reader doesn’t like to do much for their birthday but when Mary Margret throws her a surprise party, she starts to realise just how badly she wants one thing, to leave. 

A/n: Not proof read well cause it's me so I apologise for the mistakes <3

Walking into Granny’s you knew what awaited you. Whilst Mary Margret may have been known for not being able to keep a secret, she certainly kept this one quiet. It was the gathering of cars and less than subtle shuffles that came from inside that gave it away, there was no doubt about it, a horde of people were waiting inside to ambush you with birthday wishes. 

The bell chimed and there was barely a second between the jingle running through the room and the off key singing that came from what looked like the whole of Storybrooke. The smiles that were stretched across everyone’s faces brought a warmth to your chest and you desperately wanted to enjoy this moment, but tears were welling up in your eyes and you hadn’t had the heart to tell the pixie haired brunette next to you it was from a sad longing to just be alone. 

The truth was you weren’t a fan of your birthday, it seemed to only bring disappointment and it was just safer keeping your heart under lock and key, never expecting anything, and certainly not expecting a whole town to gather to celebrate with you. Getting your hopes up only meant one thing, you were going to get hurt. So, you told yourself to enjoy this small moment for what it was, temporary. 

Heels clicked in the distance and when you looked to the opposite side of the room, eyes darting past a sea of strangers, there she was. Candlelight illuminated her olive skin, fire dancing in her chocolate eyes as she concentrated on holding your birthday cake whilst Emma barged through the crowd making a path for Regina to gracefully sashay through. 

“Happy birthday!” Emma exclaimed through a wide smile, offering a small hug, and quickly moving out of the way; revealing the breath-taking sight of Regina in a tight fitted red dress. 

Chanel perfume and vanilla icing permeated the air around you, suddenly no one else mattered. Suddenly, it was just you and her. A smirk appeared on her lips, looking down to the cake then back at you, she quirked an eyebrow. 

“I think this is where you make a wish.” Emma said, lightly nudging you with her elbow. 

Jumping back into your body you realised the singing had come to a halt and you were gawking at Regina, drool practically making its way down your chin with a full audience. 

“Oh, ummm, right.” You stumbled. Leaning forward, trying not to stare at the full display of cleavage directly at eye level, you closed your eyes picturing where you wanted to be and blew out your candles, sending a wave of cheers across the swarm. Painted in your mind were the stars above you and the solidity of the ground colliding with you back, the true image of peace and solitude, that was your wish. 

Almost an hour had passed, and it wasn’t surprising to see everyone had dispersed into small groups, talking amongst themselves, laughs and chatter filled the small diner, though somehow, you’d managed to end up alone.

Looking out to the barren street, the clatter of dishes and voices faded into background noise. No one had forced you into the little booth or put you on a time out, you couldn’t be mad. So why was there an all-consuming battle taking place within you? Some distant longing begging for someone to notice your absence. 

It was an odd feeling you hadn’t experienced in a while, feeling alone whilst being surrounded by people. It was safe to say, the feeling hadn’t been missed, creeping up on you and consuming all the self-dependent thoughts you’d spent years working on. Everything in you wanted to run, use the fact no one was looking your way to your benefit. The brush of skin against your hand erased all thoughts of a quick exit, especially now that you were wedged between the window and- perfume, spiced apples, and a faint whiff of hairspray- Regina. 

Her fingertips tenderly brushed against your hand for mere seconds, but by fair or by foul, they left behind a tingling sensation that somehow craned its way into your bloodstream, sending sparks flying through your whole body. 

“I can hear the cogs you know.” 

Finally finding the courage to look away from the window, you turned to Regina. With the room lit far more sufficiently than when you’d last been so close, you could see her fully. Breath-taking. That’s what she was. A thin layer of foundation, straightened silky hair, lined lips coated in blood red to match her dress and just above them, that scar. Night after night that scar seemed to haunt you, the feeling of running your lips along it, kissing the perfect imperfection. 

“What?” you finally choked out, still half dazed, and helplessly trying to ignore the twitch in your fingers that so desperately wanted to reach out, to familiarise themselves with the indented portion of skin you were trying to pry your eyes away from. 

“In your head,” she quirked, a soft smile gracing her plump lips accompanied by a light shoulder bump, “What are you thinking about, sitting here by yourself?” 

Stringing a simple sentence together had never felt this hard, “I, I was just, ummmm.” Great start. You could tell her the truth, though that would require digging into your mind and actually thinking about why exactly you were sitting by yourself. A lie then. “I just needed to rest my feet.” 

A perfectly sculpted eyebrow moved skyward by only a centimetre. “I can see how one would miss all the other free booths and randomly find themselves sitting at the only one that’s deserted,” she turned her head, scanning the room, “closest to the door.” 

There wasn't much else to do other than avert your eyes to your hands and awkwardly shuffle in your seat. The rug was pulled from straight under you, leaving you free falling in mid-air whilst someone in the distance kept singing about a whole new world; one you’d yet to discover. In fairness, Regina was right, of all the booths that had free seats you’d managed to conveniently pick the one that was farthest away from the happy crowds and with the easiest exit strategy. 

“Crazier things have happened.” You mumbled, keeping your head hung low. 

An amused huff came from beside you, a breath of warm air brushed against your cheek, sending another myriad of sparks flying through your body. It was as though you had no control of yourself when your eyes darted to Regina, and not a morsel of regret was found when you saw the gentleness in her eyes and the comforting velvet smile adorning her painted lips. 

“That they have. But you still haven’t truthfully answered the question.”

Guess there was no escaping this one, lying clearly wasn’t an option. “It’s easy to feel invisible with a whole town cramped into one small space, so I just let it happen. I know Mary spent a lot of time on things and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that this isn’t really what I do, parties, crowds, the whole shebang. It’s better to keep things low key and quiet because,” because there’s no chance of getting hurt, you wanted to say it, god, you wanted to just let it all out, but the words sounded too pitiful, too small and weak, “It’s just easier that way.”

Her eyes glazed over, like she was a world away, lost in a distant memory, “because there’s no chance of being disappointed or forgotten when it’s just you?” 

“I-” 

There was no time to tell her she’d hit the nail right on the head, purple smoke engulfed the two of you, rendering you all but blind in a haze of smog. With your vision obscured your senses were suddenly heightened, earthy smells filled your nostrils, the sharp smell of grass accompanied with soft, delicate, welcoming floral scents filled your nose. The smoke slowly cleared, revealing an open field with nothing but the night sky above you, the moon illuminating and bouncing off a vast array of coloured petals. 

“Regina?” 

Before you could wrap your head around what was happening Regina knelt on what looked to be a tartan blanket, slowly easing herself down with - as always - the grace and composure of a queen. She arched her neck to look up at you, tilting her head ever so slightly, beckoning you to join her.

The moonlight shone down on her perfectly, her eyes glistened in the meek presence of lunar light, stars danced in chestnut irises, mapping out a linear path to dilated pupils that remained focussed on one thing only, you. How someone could be both intimidating and downright adorable was completely and utterly confounding.

Slowly she reached a hand out; not knowing exactly how long you’d been stood getting lost in her eyes, you slid your hand into hers, attempting to ignore the butterflies that were flittering low in your stomach. Regina laid back, letting her head peak over the edge of the blanket, whisps of brown cascaded over shards of green. Thoughts of running your finger through her hair filled your mind, letting them disappear, just as the grass did, into thick brunette locks to graze gently over her scalp. 

Following in suit you discovered the ground to be uneven and slightly bumpy, mud piles prodding at your back. After shuffling a little you found an agreeable position, the fingers that remained interlaced between your own seemed distraction enough from the cold earth that bit down on your thin clothing.

When you stole a glance at Regina her eyes were shut, chest rising and falling at a steady pace, maybe a little faster than normal, but then again, you had not often found yourself assessing the rate of someone’s breathing. Her face muscles were relaxed, it was like her cold mayoral exterior had melted, swept away by the cold evening breeze, and left behind was only her, only Regina. 

How anyone could look at her and not see beneath the facade bewildered you, it was plain as day, she was good, she is good, pure, caring and kind. Everyone in town had a past, things they wished to forget, and the more time you spent with her, the more you saw she was the same, just another tortured soul scathed by a harrowing past, though townsfolk readily liked to forget that. Day in day out she battled inner demons, inner personas that demanded to be set free, and she did it without so much as batting an eyelid. 

“I notice when you’re not there.” Her eyes were still closed whilst yours doubled in size, if it wasn’t said with such sureness, you would have missed it completely being too lost in thought. The butterflies in your stomach that lay dormant were woken, weaving between them a rope that was being endlessly knotted time and time again, her words echoing in your ears. 

“I- That’s-,” taking a crisp gulp of air in, you let the cold fill your lungs, still your beating heart. Then set to releasing the warmed breath of air back out, watching the small cloud of condensation float away into the night, and hopefully with it, the inability to form a sentence, “How do you always know what to say? And how on earth did you know I wanted to come here?” 

“I can read minds.”

“I’m being serious Mills.”

“So am I.” 

Turning her head to look at you, a wide smile broke out across her face, her cheeks protruded out and a full set of pearly whites revealed themselves before the both of you burst out laughing. If one sound could feel like home, it was that laugh, low, hearty and raspy as the symphony passed through her lips, rumbling in her chest. The weight of the world that pulled you down was suddenly alleviated, gravity ceased to exist, the laughter pumping you with helium until you were floating on cloud nine. 

Laugher echoed through the field, fading into comfortable silence. Distant longing eyes looked into one another, peeling back layer after layer of armour you both hadn’t known the true weight of. Smile lines faded and a serious expression washed over Regina’s face, she shifted her back off the ground, her knees brushing against the side of your thigh as she settled down to lay on her side, never for a second unclasping her hand from yours. 

“I know what it’s like. To be alone I mean.” a soft sigh left her parted lips, her eyes were darting across your face like it was the first and last time she’d ever get to have you this close. You gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and when her eyes finally re-emerged from their endeavours, offered up a sweet smile, encouraging her to continue.

And she did, “My whole life I've been on this mission for revenge, and it was a lonely one at that. Then I found Henry and, well, you know the story. But no matter how much the band heroes said I was one of them, I found myself alone amongst a crowd of people, and I knew, circumstances be damned, I could always slip away, and it would go unnoticed. I’ll never really be one of them.”

“Fucking birthdays.” You huffed. 

“I don’t even think anyone knows or remembers my birthday, other than Henry.” she chuckled out. “I think I prefer it that way, like I said, there’s no chance of being disappointed or forgotten when it’s just you.” 

Mimicking her position, you turned onto your side. Regina’s eyes were a sea of unshed tears, almost instinctively you reached out to brush a stray hair off her face, letting your fingers linger over delicate skin for a few seconds longer than necessary. Fingertips grazed over the back of your hand, guiding you back to the powdery skin of Regina’s cheek, which you gladly took into the palm of your hand, and she humbly leaned into. 

“Regina, you're the first person I look for when I enter a room.” you half whispered over the sound of your heart pounding in your chest, but you forced yourself to continue, “I feel like you’re the only person that sees me sometimes, and tonight, poofing me away, you may not be a hero to them, and without meaning to sound too corny, you’re my hero.” 

Her cheeks flushed under your touch and her eyes shimmered, taking a rushed breath in, you kept going, “There hasn’t been a single day where I haven’t craved to turn a corner and be greeted by that pragmatic smile you wear so proudly, every time I hear a pair of heels, I can't help but hope they’re from those ridiculously expensive stilettos you wear. I search for you everywhere; I can’t help it. You are everything Regina Mills and the fact you can’t see that amazes me.”

Eyes flickered to your lips and the world stopped, pipeline dreams filled the intimate bubble surrounding the two of you, tender hearts caught wind of each other and beat in rhythm with one another. Blood rushed through your veins, moving so fast you could feel the molten fire coursing through capillaries and burning a direct path to your cheeks, that were now tinted with a rogue hue.

Your hand abandoned its post, moving to the back of Regina’s neck and weaving small circles in damp hair. In turn Regina’s hand found a new home on the small of your waist, setting fireworks ablaze in surrounding area. Your bodies drew closer until there was only a slither of space between you, and you lay still for what seemed like hours, peering into tear-stained eyes. 

“I haven’t felt like this in a long time.” you muttered, the words falling from your mouth directly into Regina’s, cavorting through her until she realised, they resonated deep within her too. 

“I know.” her lips trembled before quirking up into a smile. 

In the milky light she looks so young, untouched by the cruelty of the world, her smile was youthful, and you’d never seen her look more innocent then she did at that very moment. There was no weight between the two of you and for the first time you felt like someone truly saw you and accepted you as you were, and you saw them. 

Leaning a fraction closer till your lips lightly brushed against Regina’s, you closed your eyes and breathed out, “1st February.”

Her whole body froze, “What?” she whispered.

“Your birthday, it’s the 1st of February.” 

Doubt filtered through your mind and for a split second you felt the world crash and burn before you. The contents of your stomach began to churn. Had you pushed too far too soon? Did you say too much? Overstepped? 

Run. That was the only option, then hide out in a desolate cabin forever and never show your face in town again. Yes, that was a good plan, a very good plan. Never have expectations, because that way there’d be no chance of being disappointed, those were the rules, and you knew them all too well. You were too busy silently kicking yourself for getting your hopes up that you missed all the emotions that were plaguing Regina’s face. 

Backing away and fumbling over your words, you tried to choke out an apology, but the hand on your waist glided up to your back and pushed your body flush against her. All panic was washed away when plump lips ghosted over your quivering pout and wet tears brushed against your cheek. 

“Don’t apologise.” she cooed. 

It was Regina who closed the miniscule space between your lips, tentatively kissing you, delicately using her thumb to caress the back of your hand. The kiss continued, filled with more passion and desire. There under the stars you both lost and found pieces of yourself, held within the slow kiss was an exchange of vulnerability, shedding away responsibilities, memories, and the mere idea that you were ever going to be alone again. 

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#regina mills fic #regina mills #regina mills x reader #regina mills x you #regina mills imagines #once upon a time fanfic #regina mills fluff #evil regals #the evil queen #storybrooke #once upon a time #ouat #once upon a time imagines #once upon a time imagine #once upon a time x reader #once upon a time fic #regina mills imagine #fem reader #Lana parrilla #fanfiction #fluff #ouat imagine

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

Jones and Leia

(Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You agree to match Steve’s Indiana Jones costume, but it’s definitely not what he was expecting. WK: 2.3k

Warnings: Smut, unprotected P in V, jealous/possessive Steve, hair pulling, slight dom!Steve, I think that’s it? If I missed any lmk. 18+MINDI!!!!

A/N: This was supposed to be a blurb but it ended up being a whole ass one shot OOPS. But I dedicate this one to my darling Gia @onegirlmanytales I took her wonderful thot and ran with it.

You smirked to yourself in the mirror as you put the finishing touches on your costume. Your boyfriend had practically begged you to be the Marion Ravenwood to his Indiana Jones. You finally agreed to match with him, but you never specified exactly what that costume would be. So when you show up to this party in your perfect replica of the outfit Princess Leia wore on Tatooine in Return of the Jedi, you were hoping to blow his mind.

You gave yourself a final once over, putting on your strappy sandals and grabbing a long coat to wear until you got there. You were still definitely going to freeze your ass off but Steve’s reaction would make every shiver and goosebump worth it.

Normally Steve drives you when you go places together but tonight you told him you were going to ride with Robin who had just recently passed her drivers test. She knew all about your secret costume, she even helped you put it together and keep it a secret from Steve. Which was no easy task when the three of you lived together. You were hardly able to convince him to meet you there under the guise of ‘needing extra time to get ready’.

When you pull up the party was already in full swing, it was mostly people you went to highschool or community college with. Some guy in your math class was throwing it at his parents lake house. You and Robin made your way into the party, weaving through people all dressed in various Halloween costumes. You kept your coat on and buttoned while your eyes searched the crowd for your boyfriend.

You see him before he sees you, he’s standing in the kitchen talking to Eddie, sipping on a beer and laughing.

You have seen the pieces of his costume, but you haven’t seen it on him yet. His tan shirt has one arm ripped off, every button aside from the bottom two are pulled off, leaving his chest and most of his stomach exposed. The hair on his chest that you loved to run your fingers and tongue over was on full display, you could see half his happy trail while the other half was covered by those two buttons. The remainder of the shirt was tucked into his brown trousers that fit him perfectly. The belt and whip around his waist accentuating his already peachy ass. You wanted him to take a bite, you wanted him to use that whip on you. His usually perfectly styled hair was underneath the signature brown hat, accentuating his jaw line.

You momentarily forget your own mission so you can stand there and admire your boyfriend. When he laughs at something Eddie says his eyes light up and he throws his head back revealing that column on his throat you loved to leave little kisses all over.

He must have felt you staring because he looks your way and his lips curl into a huge smile.

“Baby! You’re here!” He holds his arms open for you, beckoning you over. You return his smile as you practically skip over to him.

“Hi Stevie.”

He wraps his arms around your shoulders and engulfs you in his embrace. Your face leans against his bare chest and the smell of everything Steve invades your senses. He smells like home.

“I missed you honey bee.” He places a kiss on the top of your head before grabbing your shoulders to hold you at an arm's length, looking at you up and down with his eyebrow raised. “Where’s your costume?”

“It’s right here.” You gesture to yourself, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Pft. What’re you supposed to be, a flasher?” Eddie snorts and you turn to land a smack on his arm.

“Hey! Ow! That’s ABUSE!” He dramatically grabs his arm and falls back against the counter like you pushed him.

“You are so dramatic, oh my god.” You roll your eyes at him before looking back to Steve. “My costume is under the coat, silly, it’s cold outside.”

“Oh, well can I see?” He looks at you with pouty lips and big brown eyes.

“Yeah Stevie, of course.” You smirk at him as you reach for the buttons on your coat. Slowly popping each one open before finally pushing it off your shoulders.

“Wha-?” Steve actually gasps when his eyes drink you in.

“Do you like it?” You do a little twirl for him so he can get the full effect.

“Do I- of course I like it. In what universe would I not like this? Holy shit baby girl, wow.” He looks you up and down, biting his lip.

“So I was pretty much right, you’re basically dressed as a flasher.”

“EDDIE! Shut. Up. You’re ruining my reveal moment.” You glare at him but he definitely isn’t looking at your eyes. He’s drinking you in and it makes you squirm.

“Dude. Stop messing with my girl. She looks amazing.” Steve looks memorized and you can’t help but giggle, this is exactly the reaction you were hoping for.

“Never said she didn’t.” Eddie said in a sing-song voice, walking off with a wink.

“You look amazing too Steve.” You place your hands on his chest and lean in so you can whisper in his ear. “I only wish I was the one to tear this shirt off of you.”

Steve groans, it was going to be a long night. Especially if you were going to keep teasing him dressed like that.

•

The night has been a rollercoaster for Steve so far. His mind keeps jumping between his nearly irresistible lust for you and full blown jealousy. He wasn’t the only one that couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. Every guy here was checking you out, even the ones with dates. The worst part was that you didn’t even notice, prancing around in that little metal bikini, the only thing keeping your ass from being fully exposed was that piece of flimsy purple cloth.

He stuck close to your side all night, never taking his hands off of you and sending every guy who walked by a death glare. But you had left to have a “girls moment” in the bathroom with Robin over ten minutes ago and he was starting to get anxious. He normally wouldn’t worry about how long you’ve been in the bathroom, sometimes you and Robin would be in there for ages even if there wasn’t a line. But he was feeling extra protective and on guard tonight so he started weaving through the crowd toward the bathroom.

He walked down the hall and his steps came to a halt when you came into view. Some dude dressed as Dracula was chatting you up while he stood way too close to you. He watches the guy reach out and put his hand on your shoulder, the way you flinch at the contact and he immediately sees red.

He storms over to you with his nostrils flared and his fists clenched, putting his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close.

“Can we help you?” Steve’s eyes bore into the other man’s, his jaw clenched and his voice almost a growl.

“Yeah man, I was just telling her I like her costume. Return of the Jedi is the best Star Wa-“

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s all you were doing.”

“Dude seriously I wasn’t-“

“Shut up dude, to me it looked like you were touching my girl and making her uncomfortable. Stay the fuck away from her.” He points a finger at the guy, jabbing it hard into his chest.

“Whatever bro, you’re trippin.” The guy scoffs before turning on his heel to walk away.

“Baby, are you okay?” Steve turns towards you with concerned eyes and takes your face in his hands.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You give him a reassuring smile.

“Good. Now get in the fucking bathroom.”

Your eyes widened at his request, if you could even call it that, the look on his face said it was more of a command. Instead of responding you just walked into the bathroom with Steve close behind you.

As soon as he was in the door he slammed it shut, pushing you up against it with one hand on your hip and the other holding your jaw.

“Where. Is. Robin.”

“Uh - that cute girl that works at the bookstore asked her to dance so I told her to go and I was on my way to find you.” Your voice was squeaky and your legs were shaking at the way he was handling you.

“Figures. I knew I couldn’t leave you alone tonight without some asshole trying to flirt with you. I wanted to break his hand when I saw him touch you.” He pressed his body against yours, pulling you flush against him with his hand still cradling your jaw, keeping your eyes on his. You had never seen him this jealous, he definitely gets jealous sometimes but he’s usually pretty secure in your relationship. But right now? You had never seen this side of him.

“Stevie, I don’t care if that guy was flirting with me, I only want you… look at you.” You run your hands down his chest, hooking your fingers in the belt around his waist. Trying to pull him impossibly closer.

“Look at me? Look at you. You’ve been driving me insane all night. In this little tiny outfit, every guy here looking at you like they want to eat you alive. When I’m the only one who gets to do that.” He rubs his nose against yours, still cradling your jaw and his breath tickles your lips.

You lean in for a kiss but the hand holding your face snakes up into your hair and pulls your head back before you can connect your lips with his.

“Bend over the sink.” He abruptly takes his hands off of you, stepping back to allow you room to walk past him.

You bit your lip in anticipation as you walked towards the sink, bending over the counter in front of it. You see Steve come up behind you in the mirror and he looks fucking feral. He must’ve thrown the hat off after you walked by and his hair was in disarray, but in the sexiest way possible, like when you grab onto it while he fucks you into the mattress kinda sexy. The ripped shirt is fully hanging off his shoulder now and you just want to bite into his clavicle. Brown eyes flecked with green never leave yours as he pulls the belt off his waist and undoes his pants.

“If this whip wasn’t flimsy and fake I’d smack your ass with it until it was red.” He growls, gripping into your hips and pulling you backwards toward him.

You can’t see it but you can feel his hard cock rutting against your ass through the thin fabric that drapes from your bikini. Steve flips up the fabric and thanks whatever god there is that the crotch of the bottoms are cotton. He rips them to the side and shoves his cock into you in one motion.

Normally he would take his time with you, make sure you were prepped for the stretch of him. But right now he needs to be inside you. He could see how wet you were the minute the fabric was out of view so he knew you could take it.

He started rutting into you hard and fast, his hands were gripping your hips so tight you were sure there would be bruises tomorrow but you didn’t care, in fact, you hoped there would be. He grabs onto the braid that you meticulously styled earlier that night and wraps it around his fingers, pulling your head back so you were eye level with the mirror.

“Fucking look at yourself while I ruin you.” His thrusts get deeper and faster and your eyes start to roll back into your head until you feel a warning tug on your hair. “I said look at yourself. Look how sexy you look baby, whose pussy is this?”

“Yours! It’s yours Steve! Only yours!”

“Yeah it fucking is, this is my. Fucking. Pussy. You’re mine.”

“Yeah - yes - yours.”

He’s tugging your hair and fucking you so hard all you can do is hang for dear life while trying to keep your eyes on the mirror. His hand that isn’t in your hair snakes around to rub your clit and can feel yourself getting close already. You were a drooling moaning mess and Steve fucking loved it. He wasn’t rough with you often, he liked to make love to you and treat you like a princess but whenever he did get you like this it drove him crazy. He could tell he wasn’t going to last long. He’s been half hard all night looking at you like this.

His lips latch onto your throat, sucking hard, marking his territory and when you feel his teeth graze your skin that’s the final straw. Your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, your legs would’ve given out if Steve wasn’t holding onto you.

“OH FUCK! I’m - cumming I’m cumming! You feel so good Stevie, fill me up so good, I want your cum dripping down my legs so when we walk out of here everyone really knows who I belong to!!”

“Holy. Shit. F- UCK!!” He came hard, ropes of his cum filling your pussy so much it started to drip out around his cock. He pumped every last drop into you before pulling out of you and turning you around by your shoulders.

“Fuck honey.” He cradles your face in his hands and places a kiss on your lips that is much softer than how he was just fucking you, loving.

“Wow. I should get you jealous more often.” You giggle against his lips. “That was really hot Steve.”

“Yeah? You liked that? That’s good, because I’m not done with you. Let’s go home.”

After you found Robin and made sure she was okay if you guys left Steve took you home and made good on his promise. Leaving marks all over your body and fucking you until he physically couldn’t anymore.

#steve harrington x reader #Steve Harrington smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #Steve Harrington one shot #Steve Harrington fanfiction

[spatialwave]

thinking about the last ask someone made about jordan and bras, and marie asking jordan about their powers and they stumble on how they choose clothes that fit and then the bra question is made, or maybe is when they are already dating and marie just ask plainly "do you ever wear a bra?" and jordan explains that most of the times no but they like lacy bralettes and marie just a little

ok this topic makes me BLUSH because jordan is just… learning!!! 🥺 also, i took a bit of a creative spin on this i hope you like it.

-

since jordan had discovered their powers as a young child, they were taught by their father that it wasn’t good to be a girl whenever they wanted. that jordan was their first born son, and that was more important than being able to shift into the opposite gender. they often looked to their mom for support, who couldn’t give it.

jordan had learned a thing or two from their friends in high school, a couple girls who were open-minded and elated to teach them. they learned about the wonders of makeup, feminine underclothing, periods. the gritty details of being a woman.

though, jordan didn’t switch as much as they wanted because of fear from their father, especially as they reached those late teen years. it was becoming a secret to spend time with their friends as a woman, only jordan knew of the fiery arguments that would happen at home if their father found out.

it wasn’t until godolkin when they found real freedom. feeling comfortable enough to switch as they pleased, even finding comfort in having sex as a woman. it was so new and it was so real.

though, as they refined their powers and learned to quickly switch between, they had to start figuring out how to dressing for comfort… underneath.

they preferred to wear boxers in both forms, but bras were a fucking nightmare. they hated them with a passion because they didn’t quite learn how to find something that fit properly. they gave up on it for awhile, deciding that finding a cheap sports bra could help when they were training — but that was it.

but nothing could fight off their curiosity for how cute underwear looked on them. the way the lace curved over their body, how they didn’t mind the way it looked on both of their forms. it was a secret indulgence of theirs — one that wasn’t practical, but just for them.

//

“uh, jordan,” marie spoke as she looked through their partner’s dresser. she had just been digging around, looking for a shirt that jordan said she could borrow when she lifted out a black, lacy bralette that dangled from her finger.

she wasn't here to shame jordan, they were a college student longer than she was. she did her best to shove that jealousy way, way down and not once did it strike her that it was theirs until she saw the red that formed on their cheeks.

"that's, uh... yeah, that's...." jordan stuttered.

"it’s yours?" marie asked, blinking at them a few times.

silence filled jordan’s room as they stared down at her, having been standing and in the middle of throwing a sweater on.

"yeah."

marie parted her lips to answer, but she was completely taken back. it was like her brain was short-circuiting as she imagined jordan in her mind, wearing the black bralette. beautiful, beautiful jordan.

it made her feel perverted, so she quickly dropped it back into the dresser, her own cheeks warm to the touch.

“i just didn’t realize that you-“

“wear bras?” jordan interrupted, finishing sliding the hoodie over their frame as they walked over to her. they bent down and picked it up, trying so hard to find some semblance of confidence about the situation — what was so weird about jordan wearing bras? they had boobs… most of the time, “does that make you uncomfortable?” they asked quietly, gaze flickering to her.

“oh, no, i love it. i mean, not… love. well, yeah, i probably do love it,” she babbled out as she looked up at them, finding it all the more awkward as she stared at them in their male form, “i’m sure it looks really good on you.” she clarified with an exasperated, airy laugh.

jordan’s lips curved into the shyest smile, “i don’t wear it much. it’s not the most comfortable thing to wear like… this.” he motioned to his current form, “but it looks nice. both ways.”

marie simply stared up at jordan, feeling her heart slamming against her chest. mouth growing dryer with each passing second.

“can you show me?”

#limoreau #jordan li x marie moreau #jordan li #marie moreau #gen v #wordsbyspatial #spatialanswers