#so this is admittedly a little self indulgent on my part

[eluxcastar]

number 13 with pierro im BEGGING on my knees

Number 13 with Pierro because eiscoathanger begged on their knees

── ୨୧：pierro x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: another number thirteen from the prompts

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 1.2k

"I could see the worst parts of you and still think you are the most beautiful person I’ve met."

yk I got stuck cause I didn't wanna repeat every other thirteen request and then suddenly LIGHTBULB 🫵 I thought of how to make this apply to reader in a different context than just insecurity. I think that worked well with the ones I did it for but as I said I didn't wanna do that for everyone we need some fresh homegrown v a r i e t y🤞 that lightbulb unfortunately did not come through on the title

Pierro is a gentleman who once had a kinder heart. Time has weathered that man away into a colder shell, the remnants of a homeland once prosperous torn apart by the gods. It's never a pretty sight to see a traveller who appears weary and lost.

There is light in his life, a child born in the lands under the rule of gods, ironically.

You barreled into his world, elven-born and undying, to wreak havoc on his life and destroy any semblance of carefully crafted peace. You refuse to be tamed, can't settle in one place for too long, and have a hard time with authority. He hates it, though it is admittedly quite endearing. The commitment to never tying yourself down is admirable, yet irritating, as you showed up once every few years for a decade or two before he managed to convince you to stay for a little while longer and indulge him.

It is certainly not easy to calm your free spirit, but he manages. He bends to your whims and wants and finds any number of reasons to keep you put. You humour him because he's working so hard just for the little attention you will spare him.

Pulcinella told him to cut you loose while he could, but he wouldn't— couldn't, by some accounts. You're too overwhelming to simply give up on, bursting in with the destructive power of a natural disaster to spend your time pleasantly at ease with him. Though you destroy every semblance of peace in your path, you offer respite in return, the open arms to greet him when the world is too much. Responsibility falls away into the background of his mind so easily in your arms. It's as if your carelessness rubs off on him with every night you let him settle into your embrace.

You are made for the long flow of time, and each year builds you up. With each passing year, Pierro feels his humanity slip away, like the sands of time seeking to grind him down to nothing but reputation.

None of his inhibitors stop you, unchained by duty and with practically no responsibility to speak of. In a perfect world, he may have adapted even half as well to his sudden lack of home, but barely decades past, the thought of abandoning everything he has worked for sickens him like the highest betrayal. He cannot help but envy your careless disposition.

A home existed for you at one point— probably still does— but you grew bored with it like many things in your life and left it. The world is bigger than one town, area or nation, you reasoned. He can't argue with that outlook.

It is not wrong, but it is flawed, a fact that you are aware of. Staying in one place starts to make you go batty—Pierro can't argue with that either. The less excitement you find naturally in your life, the more you seek to create the excitement you find yourself lacking. That habit is responsible for how much you manage to disrupt him.

The first few times, it was dismissed as a lack of self-awareness. You hadn't yet picked up on his schedule or when he's most busy, so showing up at those times was a coincidence. That is until he realises you do it intentionally. The coincidence is far too convenient to ignore after the first few times.

Your stay as Snezhnaya—a favour to him—is beginning to irk you, and you search for any way you can to make him send you away.

You can't take back your eager agreement, but you can drive Pierro up the wall until he regrets asking it of you. He figures that out within practically seconds of realising that you're doing it on purpose. With that confirmed, his first question was naturally why and while he could have jumped to you simply stirring trouble, it makes more sense for you to be trying to worm your way out of your commitment without losing the opportunity to have him owe you.

It is conniving, and maybe he could fault you for it if only owing you didn't inadvertently work in his favour.

It means someday you'll come knocking when you need him to help you.

You'll come back of your own volition.

There are many nights he thinks of you, your many charms some would call flaws. More than anything, you are interesting, a seeker of adventure with more knowledge to offer than any mere book could hold. You have stories from eras he never lived in and advice you stole from the elderly across the continent for him, returning to greet him with a cheeky smile and some outrageous demand.

Perhaps Pierro should've expected that much, but the trouble you put him through is worth it when he's faced with your smile. Anything to hear you say, "I knew the moment I thought of it exactly who to ask," as if you believe he should have any idea how to make the impossible possible and grant your ridiculous wishes. 

All of it is enough to bring you back to Snezhnaya, back to him where he can see your eccentricities unfold before him. Pierro will wonder endlessly why he's dealing with this, then remind himself of why when he looks at you.

He is dealing with this because you asked it of him.

"Though maybe I did ask too much of you," you add. Pierro likes the way your hand runs through his hair when you say that, perhaps the gentlest thing you're capable of.

You do that to everyone, he wants to say, but only musters a "For you, nothing is too much," in response.

"You'll regret saying that," you warn him. He knows he will.

He likes the way you lean on his shoulder without even asking him first, like you own it, and he's just minding it for you. Maybe he is.

Something happened between now and the first day you met for him to be so utterly taken with you, whether because you did something to him or he was struck by one last curse to love someone whose life is so tumultuous. You should be everything that infuriates him.

A chuckle slips past his defences, the kind only you manage to pull from him, the source of fiery passion somehow able to melt his heart. "Perhaps," he says, "but I could see the worst parts of you and still think you are the most beautiful person I've met."

It is not lost on him how your head briefly lifts as you try to gauge how serious that way, only to return to his side as you lay your head back against his shoulder and resign yourself to simply accepting he's being overly sentimental as you frequently claim he is.

Sentimental or not, he wouldn't mind you showing up to ruin more of his carefully planned days.

#✦ — headcanons. #✦ — fluff. #pierro #pierro x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

[pastafossa]

“And The Holly Cookies Too” (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic)

Right I had to go out to shovel the furnace pipes again so while I’m waiting to warm up and go back to bed, I figured I’d finish editing and drop this little bit of TRT Christmas fluff, too, as a bonus! Summary: Matt is determined to support you in your experimental Christmas cookie bake-a-thon, even if it kills him. Warnings: none really, just Matt and his senses and cookies and humor. Wordcount: 1,481 Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader. This is technically TRT’s reader again, but TRT is not required reading. 

“Right.” You put your hands on your hips, narrowing your eyes at the messy sea of ingredients on the counter and the containers stacked high on the kitchen table. “So we’ve done… cranberry shortbread—”

“Mhm,” Matt said behind you, his voice muffled.

“Gingerbread. Italian rainbow cookies. Ciro’s Christmas pizzelles. Your dad’s seven-layer cookies.”

“Mhm.”

“Christmas fudge. Snowball cookies.” You glanced back, then did a double take. “Matt.”

“Mmm?” he said, dusting his fingers off on his shirt.

 “Stop eating the snowballs.”

 “I wasn’t,” he said around a mouthful of snowball, blinking innocently at you.

“Then why is there powdered sugar on your face?”

“I can’t see them,” he said mournfully, abruptly shifting his argument. He tipped his head, licking the powdered sugar off his lips, and only Matt Murdock could manage a look so tragic after he’d just been caught red-handed… or sugar-handed, rather, with the evidence literally written across his face. “How was I supposed to know these were the snowballs?”

You snatched another snowball out of his hand, and he pulled a sad face until you leaned in and smacked a kiss against his lips. “Don’t eat them until after I pick the ones that we can give away. I want to make sure we have enough.”

 At that, he chuckled, leaning in to touch his forehead to yours. “Sweetheart, we’ve been baking all day. We’ve got hundreds of cookies.”

 “Some might be bad. I want to make sure I have good ones to give away,” you fretted, turning back around to stare at your latest project: a tray of sticky, marshmallow-y holly cookies. It had amazed you how much food coloring you’d needed to dump in to achieve the bright-green color, but damned if it hadn’t worked. Each little clump of cornflakes, held together by a sticky green mass of melted marshmallow, looked just like a holly leaf, complete with bright red cinnamon candies set in like berries. Or… or did they look like holly leaves? Were they too crooked? “Everyone else has gotten way more practice than me. I’m behind. I don’t want to be…”

“Be what?” He set his head over your shoulder as you morosely nudged at one of the holly cookies.

“Bad at Christmas,” you admitted.

“You can’t be bad at Christmas,” he told you gently. “That’s not how it works, sweetheart.”

“But what if I am!?” you howled, throwing your sticky hands up in the air. “Jesus—”

“Close,” Matt said with a straight face. “He’s on Christmas eve.”

“You know what I mean!” You turned, pulling away to pace wildly in the kitchen, baring your teeth at the holly cookies as if they were an enemy that needed defeating. “They look crooked.”

Matt closed his mouth, turning his head with a furrowed brow to consider the cookies.

“What are you doing?” you asked him curiously.

“They don’t…” He narrowed his eyes in focus. “They don’t… sound crooked? And even if they were, isn’t nature crooked? I’m sure they’re fine.”

You let out a huff, abruptly circling around, soothed a little by the sheer determination Matt had aimed towards your holly cookies. You let out a sigh as you stepped back up beside him, staring down at the cookies silently.

Maybe… maybe they didn’t look… all that bad.

“You think they’re ok?” you asked him nervously.

“I think they sound and feel amazing.” He leaned over to kiss your temple, and—you had a feeling—left some powdered sugar in your hair from the snowballs he’d been stealing. “For obvious reasons, I’m a poor judge of looks, and there’s a lot of sugar and cinnamon in the air from the last batch so I can’t quite separate the taste, but I’m sure they’re perfect.”

“I guess they look alright,” you mumbled, reaching forward to nudge one with another sigh. “Besides, it’s half taste anyway.”

“Let me try one, then.”

You threw him a baffled look. “What, these?”

“Yeah.”

“You hate green.”

He made a noise of protest. “I don’t hate green.”

“The last time you had something with green food coloring, you pulled a level ten stinky cat face. These have way more green food coloring than that.”

“It’s different when it’s a cookie,” he said stubbornly.

“Are you lying?”

“No,” he lied, licking his lips just once.

You narrowed your eyes. “You are lying! Matt—”

But it was too late. Before you could blink he’d snatched up one of the holly cookies and darted out of the kitchen. “They’re fine,” he told you, backing away. “I can smell the green. There’s not too much.”

You quickly came around the corner, pointing a finger as Matt boldly lifted the cookie. “Matt, don’t you dare.”

He got that look in his eye—the one that spelled trouble, the one that ended in gunshot wounds and legal cases best avoided, the one that meant he was about to do something absolutely ridiculous.

He took a confident, massive bite.

And froze.

Silence.

His lips and nose twitched, and you swore you could see the momentary flash of regret sweep through his eyes.

“You’re trying not to make the face, aren’t you?” You stepped in closer, mildly amused now. “The stinky cat face.”

“No,” he said, very, very carefully, his voice hoarse behind a mouthful of green food coloring and processed marshmallow. His nose and mouth wrinkled briefly before he forced it down, struggling with himself as he tried to chew. You swore his eye twitched. “These are… delicious.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said fondly, your lips curling up into a grin at just how determined he was to carry on the lie for your sake. “Please stop suffering for me.”

“I’m just… enjoying it,” he said roughly, and oh, this time his eyes did twitch as he swallowed with great reluctance. It looked like it went down like acid, his body shivering as if to punish him for what he’d just knowingly ingested. Even so, he twisted his face into an approximation of contentment. “That… was one of the best cookies you’ve ever made. I didn’t… taste the green at all. People will love it.”

You held out a hand for the rest of the cookie. “I appreciate your attempts to lie to me about my terrible holly cookies, but—”

He shot you a look, something like absolute fire in his dark eyes.

Shit.

You shouldn’t have said that.

“Matt, give me the cookie,” you said quickly. He tipped his head and took one slow step back.

“Matt—”

“...No,” he said hotly, clenching his jaw. “I want to eat it. It’s mine.”

You darted after him, and he took off, vaulting over the couch with one hand, your holly cookie in his other. You, unfortunately, had to go around and by the time you circled the couch, he’d already hit the first landing on the stairs, and goddamit, normally you loved his level of athleticism, but not when you were trying to take something back from him like he was a dog who’d run off with the remote.

 “Matt!” you shouted from the bottom of the stairs as he spun, now on the second level. “Don’t fucking eat that, I appreciate it, but you don’t—”

Which was when Matt—somehow managing the appearance of direct, aggressive eye contact—promptly shoved the entire goddamn cookie into his mouth.

“Are you serious?” you barked. “Matt—”

Matt stubbornly closed his mouth and chewed, once.

Then abruptly spun around, his back to you.

There was a choked noise, and you snorted as you came up the stairs. “Matt, spit it out.”

Another, more stubborn choked noise, and this time he shuddered. You were pretty sure he was just trying to get it down as fast as possible at this point, and you didn’t blame him.

“You goddamn masochist,” you said affectionately as you reached him, rubbing your hand softly down his shuddering back. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I love you,” he said hoarsely, fervent determination lying beneath, and you managed to spin him just in time to watch him work his throat, forcing down the rest of the holly cookie. He groaned as he did, though he tried to make it sound more like a moan of delight. “It… was amazing, sweetheart.”

And now that you got a better look at him, you slapped a hand over your mouth, holding back your laughter. “Oh God, Matt.”

His lips and tongue were now a bright, vibrant shade of emerald green.

Something he seemed to notice the second you did.

He lurched, his mouth falling open, his hand rising for just a moment as if in instinct to scratch at his tongue. He made a strange, ragged noise, then, one somehow full of both regret and apology.

You caught his chin, leaning in to kiss his cheek in sympathy. “I love you. Thank you for trying. It was a wonderful Christmas gift.”

“I’m sorry,” he grit out, groaning and leaning in to bury his face against your neck, his words garbled as if he hated the taste of his own tongue. “I-I tried. God, I hate green.”

“I know you did.” You kissed his hair beneath the glow of the Christmas tree, and somehow the Christmas lights were even less green than his mouth. And, well, even if your cookies didn’t ever turn out perfect, you’d still come out ahead as long as you had Matt here to try them with you. The reminder made you... a lot less nervous about the whole thing, even if you were hoping to prevent something like this from happening again. “No more holly cookies for either of us.”

“No more holly cookies.”

#the red thread #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil x f!reader #daredevil #matt murdock #fic #fanfic #reader fic #x reader #reader #christmas fluff #christmas cookies #food #matt attempting to swallow a mountain of food dye all for you benefit #MATT NO #holly cookies and snowballs are cookies my grandma and grandpa always made with me at christmas #so this is admittedly a little self indulgent on my part #but #i think matt would love snowballs #but holly cookies? oh god #not with that level of food coloring #fluff #fluff fic

[lavenoon]

Here's a little lad on a lily pad! And a hope that you take all the time you need to feel better. I hope you remember that you are cherished and loved and that we are all rooting for you, babe. ❤️ Please be gentle with yourself.

Aahh Naff 🥺💜 Taking a comically large squeaky hammer to get the sentiment to stick 💜 And I do love the little lily lad, what a good lily lad!

After lunch and a hefty nap the bad bees have quietened significantly, fortunately. I'm gonna take the evening slow however n just write a little for just myself for the indulgence n see how tomorrow treats me!

#answer let luce #Naff asks #admittedly it was *exactly* the rejection sensitivity that got to me so internalizing it is hard but v important #part of me does know the bees were just louder for a bit #but I got comfort comic I got friends my brain lets me talk to again *and* I'll get self indulgent self insert fanfic #so I have hesitantly optimistic hopes for the evening #I also admittedly got a bit of a boost from doing a couple very satisfying now that they're done chores #so the brain has also been quietened by productivity and then I just conked out for 2 hours #and now dinner time! #thank you for the little lad (little lily lad) (i like alliterations) I appreciate him very much <3

[bits-and-babs]

✰ 𝐏𝐎𝐌𝐏 — 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 ‘𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓’ 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘

↳ summary: prompt: “If we weren’t in public right now, I’d have my head between your legs.” - Simon gets bored during a very special medal ceremony. Chest Candy isn't exactly what he's after when there's something much sweeter between your legs.

↳ pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x f!Reader (Delta)

↳ [1k] content: 18+ MDNI. This is so self indulgent it’s ridiculous. Anti-Monarchy (sue me), cheeky Simon (my favourite kind), vague dirty talk, oral (f receiving) you see PART OF Simon’s face, vague allusion to p in v sex and cream pie. Inspired by this article I found.

ghost masterlist I| main masterlist |I join taglist

The Crimson red carpet stretches down the aisle to the medal platform, an uncomfortable reminder of the colour of the blood you had to spill to get here. A sea of uniformed SAS colleagues stands before you, making The King look distant from where he handed a medal to those worthy of the chest candy. The golden lighting is giving you a headache, and this ceremony feels as though it's taking forever. He's just a man-

"If we weren't in public right now, I'd have my head between your legs."

Simon's gruff voice so close to your ear has you jumping out of your skin, wide eyes gazing up at him through your lashes as you try to steady yourself from the shock. Was... Was he dirty talking you in the middle of the ceremonial halls of Buckingham Palace?

"Simon-"

"Never been one for pomp an' pageantry," he speaks over you, keeping his voice low as to avoid a very pointed look from Captain Price. Despite leaning down ever so slightly for his whispers to be heard, his eyes stare straight ahead, moving lips concealed by the worn fabric of his ski mask. 

"This isn't pomp, Simon. It's Buckingham Palace," you remind him pointedly, a little hiss of frustration bubbling in your throat. Ghost had the habit of choosing the worst times to pull this bullshit-

"Exactly my point, love." 

Admittedly, when you saw The Times article a few months ago, you threw up in your mouth. 'SAS get medals in secret palace ceremony'. While each of you had taken a vow to protect (what was then) Queen and Country, years on the field had twisted the priorities of each of the members of Team 141. You could ask any of them why they serve, and it certainly wasn't for this family. 

What you honestly hadn't expected, however, was the team's invitation. The invitation, written on a thick, grained card with an embossed royal seal, detailed the team's bravery in the Gulf of Mexico, redirecting the missile aimed towards inhabited land. Ghost had scoffed at the idea of going to Buckingham Palace, but Price had been adamant that all of 141 would be there. 

"You know, he's not even served a day in his life," Simon subtly nods towards the medals resting at The King's breast,"' Least Harry saw action."

Keeping your eyes aimed towards the ceremonial stage, you swallow back a grimace at Simon's truthful observation. Sure, he wasn't wrong, but it took everything in you not to dare Ghost to say it to the monarch's face. 

Because you're sure as shit that he would.

 "Whatd'ya say?" Simon whispers, his voice dropping a tad lower and dripping with eroticism, "There's an open door at your six, Delta. Make it worth your while." 

Before you even check over your shoulder to see if his observation is accurate, you're turning on your heel, whispering to the king's guard patrolling the open double doors that you need the toilet- that you are desperate. 

One of those admissions is true. 

                      ✰

"What took you so lo-ng?!" You gasp out as Ghost's tongue curls around your sensitive clit. 

"Recon, love," he muses, the rumble of his voice against your throbbing cunt making you throw your head back against the wall of the bathroom stall, "Couldn't just follow after you into the women's loos, could I?"

Squeezing your eyes shut, you whimper, pushing your fingers into Simon's buzzcut hair and shoving his face deeper into your cunt. His words had shot straight to your clit when he entered the bathroom, eyelids heavy and voice as rough as glass on gravel. 

"Eyes shut, panties down."

When his bare lips and nose pressed to your wet pussy lips, you could have cum right there, threats of a fierce orgasm roughly pushing up against the base of your spine. You wrap your thighs around his head now, wailing out his name as your eyes roll back. 

"Shhh," he mumbles against your soaked cunt, but it's so hard to take note of his warnings when they're drowned out by even louder sloppy, messy sucks of your sensitive flesh. He's swallowing your juices down, groans ricocheting off the bathroom walls. 

"Fuck, Princess," he's never used that name for you, and you know it's only because of the frankly ridiculous circumstances, but your cunt clenches around his tongue when he shoves it inside of you anyway, "Mhmm, so fuhgin' wet." 

He's slurring his words as he plunges his tongue deeper, but he won't shut up. A chorus of "good girl" s and "like that" s and "c'mon" s have you pushing your hips up into his face and grasping at the smooth walls of the bathroom stall. 

"Oh my God, Simon!" You sob weakly, tears welling in your eyes as he sinks his fingers into your throbbing cunt. He finds your G-spot instantly, far too acquainted with each curve and crevice of your body—too many reccy missions with his hands down your pants.

"Hah," he pulls back, breathless pants rumbling in his chest. The sound makes your back arch, chasing his lips again with your pelvis, "Gonna swear allegiance to me?"

His corny joke is almost lost on you; eyes rolling back into your skull as you grip at his short hair between your curled fingers. "L-Last I checked, yo-you were on your knees for m-me!"

It doesn't matter that you squeak out the last word of your ballsy sentence; it lands exactly as you intended it to. Simon stalls for a moment.

You don't mean to. You don't! But your eyes snap open at the sudden stalling of the blissful sensation. Simon's amber eyes gaze up at you from his position between your thighs. They frame his face, covering his ears. Your pubic bone smothers his lower visage, covering the bridge of his nose to his chin. 

Squeaking, you squeeze your eyes shut. Blonde. Simon's blonde, and a white scar runs down his left eyebrow and eyelid. 

"Naughty," you hear him smirk at your startled reaction, a breathy, exhaled chuckle fanning across your wet pussy lips, "Guess I'll have to fuck you so hard that you forget what you just saw." 

When you return to the ceremonial hall, the guards on the door keep their eyes uncomfortably fixed on the crimson carpet. You wish you could say that your shaking legs are from nerves when you step onto the ceremonial stage to receive your medal from The King. 

The smug gaze of the skull face in the crowd is a reminder of otherwise, his cum leaking into the fabric of your uniform as you bow for the monarch.

Authors Note: Congrats on your coronation, "King" Charles... Would be a shame if Diana made it rain on your big day. ;)

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#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #cod mw2 #ghost cod mw2 #ghost cod mwii #cod ghost #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley fic #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut #cod mw2 smut #call of duty smut #modern warfare smut #modern warfare 2 smut #1k+ club

[eoieopda]

one to ten | jww

summary: your roommate may not know how to help you feel better, but that won’t stop him from trying. pairing: jeon wonwoo x reader au: roommates to ?, pining, sick fic type: drabble (hurt/comfort, fluff) rating: pg13 — still, minors do not have my consent to interact with my content. cw: gn!spoonie!reader; downbad!best boi!super shy!roommate!wonu; chronic illness/pain is implied but no diagnosis is specified; hand-holding 👁️👄👁️; barely proofread because brain fog, lol. a/n: this is super self-indulgent and based on my own personal experience with chronic illness (fibromyalgia), so it may be different than yours!! wc: 1k

Wonwoo isn’t psychic, but he knows that something is up the second he gets home from work.

Walking through the door of your shared apartment, he moves immediately to deposit his keys on the nearby hook and finds that yours are already there. Odd, he thinks, given your habit of imposing your own overtime. Your commute is shorter than his, and you still never beat him back here.

He looks down as he toes off his shoes, carefully maneuvering them across the mat to avoid both your heels and your sneakers, which don’t seem to have budged since this morning. Wonwoo frowns. It’s rare for you to skip out on the gym at the end of the day, but it’s unheard of for you to miss work — even when you should, in his non-expert opinion.

That’s a bit of a red flag, he’ll admit.

Wonwoo locks the door behind him, pads off across the kitchen and through the adjoining living room, and eventually stops at your bedroom door. It’s cracked open — a secret code of yours, he’s learned. One that means you don’t want to be alone, but you feel the need to warn him about what’s on the other side. Usually, it’s you, deflated in your bed in a way that you find embarrassing. Still, even on your worst days, he’s never seen you look bad. 

He’s not convinced that you could if you tried.

Softly, Wonwoo raps his knuckles against the doorframe to warn you. In response, he gets a muffled, “Hello?” It wraps around his heart and squeezes just a little. He loves that about you; how gentle your voice is when everything else you’re experiencing feels the opposite.

You lift your head up just enough to make eye contact with him as he slips through the doorway, and you smile. If it aches to do so, you pretend like it doesn’t.

He clears his throat awkwardly. “Hey.”

Admittedly, this is the part that Wonwoo feels he’s worst at. He’s never quite sure what to ask or what he can do to help, always simultaneously afraid of being patronizing or too hands-off. It’s a balancing act; his equilibrium is off.

And, god, he’s so shy when it comes to you. He can’t make himself act on any of the comforting impulses he absolutely has, so he simply pauses at the end of your bed and sweeps his eyes over your frame. A triage of sorts, he supposes.

You’re on your right side, hugging a hot water bottle, and there’s a Munchlax plush between your knees to keep them separated. Your left hip hurts, he guesses. It’s probably safe to assume that the rest of you does, too. Crinkling his nose as he thinks, he asks, “One to ten?”

Another code. 

Wonwoo has to adjust the scale when you answer — three — because your three is his eleven. The good news isn’t lost on him, though: Your pain was a six during the last flare. Things may not be great, but they’ve definitely been worse.

“Mostly just tired,” you sigh, as if you can hear the calculations he’s running in his head. “I was this close —” You lift an arm and pull your thumb and index finger in so that they’re almost touching. “— to making it out the door this morning.” 

Dropping your arm again slowly, you pat the space next to you in silent invitation. Wonwoo’s body hesitates, even though his pulse doesn’t. It’s par for the course, unfortunately for him.

He wonders how many moments like this need to pass before his palms don’t sweat anymore. Will filling the spot next to you on your bed, on the couch, or even in your passenger seat ever not affect him like this?

Maybe not.

He’s okay with that, so long as you keep giving him the opportunity.

You laugh, and it single-handedly diffuses the tension in his posture. “I think the side of the bathtub got taller. I almost had to yell for you to haul me out of there, but I managed.”

“Proud of you.” He’s chuckling now, too, but that doesn’t undermine how much he means it. Getting your body to cooperate with you is always hardest in the mornings.

For what it’s worth, he would’ve come running if you’d called.

Carefully, Wonwoo sits down on the vacant side of your bed and scoots closer to you, knowing you’ll call him out for leaving distance and anticipating how badly he'll blush if you do. It’s so much easier for you to be close to people than it is for him, but he’s trying. 

He hopes you see that.

There’s a microscopic wince when you wiggle your way towards him. It’s replaced quickly by a satisfied little grin once you settle, your body curving around his bent knee like a puzzle piece slotting into place.

“You always run warm,” you muse. “I’m jealous.”

Wonwoo blinks, a little dumbfounded that you’ve noticed — not that he should be, really. He’s obviously picked up on a lot of trivia about you since you took over his former roommate’s lease several months back. If he knows the order of your skin care routine, it’s not weird for you to know that he can’t sleep without a fan on.

Should he have noticed this about you by now?

Curiosity makes him bold, apparently. He pulls his palm off the mattress and touches his fingertips to the back of your hand. “Goddamn,” he whistles. 

His hypothesis is proven the second he touches you — you’re freezing — but Wonwoo admittedly gets a kick out of the temperature disparity. He can’t help but run the pads of his fingers absentmindedly over your skin, tracing nonsense patterns. You can’t help the pleased hum that slips out of you as you watch his ministrations; or the way your heavy eyelids start to interrupt your view. 

Even when he’s sure you’ve been lulled to sleep, Wonwoo keeps doodling. It’s got to be exhausting to exist in a body that always aches, and you deserve whatever rest you can get. Truth be told, he could probably stay like this for hours if that would help. He’d be doing the same thing at his PC, anyways, holding a mouse instead of your hand.

Yeah, he thinks, this is a much better set-up.

#jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #svt #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo drabble #wonwoo hurt/comfort #jww #jade writes #jade’s drabbles #re: one to ten #kvanity

[gretagerwigsmuse]

i don’t know, blame the air force?

summary: in which lieutenant commander bradshaw feels his girlfriend’s wrath after she gets her year end bonus and uncle sam takes a pretty penny out of it

a/n: listen….this is very self indulgent and that’s all i’m going to say. i literally wrote it this afternoon after…well i got fucked by the government in the form of taxes on my bonus. also yeah she’s kind of a brat in this one, but i think it’s a little deserved. rated t for language and suggestive comments 1.2k

It wasn’t often that you beat Bradley home from work, but sometimes on Fridays you would sneak out of the office at lunch and work the rest of the day from home. It typically put you in a good mood and gave you the opportunity to run a quick load of laundry or get started on an - admittedly - rudimentary dinner. Sometimes you’d even go for a dip in your building’s skyline pool.

But that afternoon, you were seething. Properly seething. And no amount of stress cleaning or tanning was going to make you feel any better. Maybe you just needed Bradley to fuck you six ways to Sunday later? Surely the serotonin from a couple orgasms could soothe this particular anger brewing inside of you.

As per every October, you had gotten your year end bonus with your paycheck earlier that day, which always inspired equal amounts of giddiness and angst within you.

The giddiness, of course, because who doesn’t love extra money? It was like found money twice a year. Sure, you worked extra hard for it, many late nights at the office, client site visits, and presentations over the last four years could attest to that. You were up in the air over whether you should add it to your brokerage account or splurge on something? Because again - you worked for it.

But then there was the angst.

The angst because you inevitably lost half of it to taxes. And this angst appeared like clockwork, twice a year, every year, for the last six years you’d been working at PwC. You knew this - it was inevitable.

Except, earlier that morning, you’d been at your desk reading the WSJ with your coffee and had seen a headline. A stupid, annoying headline that had made you purse your lips, realization dawning as you rushed to check your pay stub on workday.

Pentagon Refocuses Spending on Weapons to Deter China

As you read further, you saw that as part of the FY24 budget, the Pentagon was increasing the $30.6B defense budget a further 12% with a focus on missiles, rockets, and - yes - airplanes, specifically for the Air Force.

Uncle Sam was taking 35% of taxes out of your bonus for that? Fuck that.

So, when Bradley came by your apartment later that afternoon, freshly showered after a quick trip to the gym after work, you were steaming. And though it was not Bradley’s fault - not in the slightest - seeing him in that stupid(ly tight), grey, US Navy t-shirt only further contributed to your sour mood.

“Hey!” he called out, letting himself in with his key. You turned your head towards him and hummed, letting out a gruff hi. He toed off his sneakers and left them by the door before coming over to where you were laying on the couch, doom scrolling through Instagram, and pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

He frowned at your tepid response and you felt like a absolute bitch for a moment. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong?”

You briefly glanced at Bradley and then went back to staring - glaring - at your phone. “I’m just in a mood - tired.”

You could see him doing the mental math, trying to figure out if you were on your period, but that wasn’t until next week. “S’okay. We can just hang out and have an early -”

“- Crash any planes today?” the words slipped out before you could think better of it. Before he could even respond, you cut Bradley off. “What’s it matter anyway? They’ll just buy you new ones? Fuck the kids, I mean, they don’t need to eat school lunch? And the Postal Service can cut off Saturday delivery? Hmmmm maybe we should cut Social Security even more? Our infrastructure doesn’t need to be fixed, let’s just let our bridges and roads crumble! Fucking taxes bullshit.”

“Uhhh...”

You got up in a huff and started pacing, getting more and more worked up. “It’s not that I mind paying taxes - well, that’s not totally true. But like? Actually put them towards something that’s going to help people? Not just stupid rockets and missiles and fucking -”

“- Did you get your tax refund or something?”

Bradley was standing next to you, trying to put his hands on your shoulders in what would have been a calming motion had you not been acting completely crazy over eleven thousand dollars.

“It’s October?” you snapped.

“I don’t know?” Bradley shrugged his shoulders, getting a little worked up himself. “Rich people are weird? And your dad seems like he’d know how - nevermind.” You rolled your eyes. “What happened?”

Your shoulders sagged. Fuck, this wasn’t Bradley’s fault. It was that piece of shit House Majority Leader’s, who was so far up Lockheed Martin’s ass he could see -

“I got my year end bonus check today…” you grumbled.

Like you figured, a huge smile lit up Bradley’s face. “That’s amazing - or not?” he backtracked.

“I lost like 35% of it to taxes.”

“Ahhh.”

“And I saw this article in the Journal this morning about the new Pentagon budget and how they’re purchasing these new planes for the Air Force and it just - it’s dumb but it made me mad because I just wish my taxes went to the things that will actually benefit the average American?”

Bradley tucked your hair behind your ear and clucked your chin. “That’s a lot to put on your shoulders, kid…”

“Do you think I’m acting like a brat?” You knew you were, you were just curious if Bradley would say the same thing.

He made a face. “Well,” the word dragged out, “maybe a little…” You hung your head and leaned against his chest. “But it’s kind of valid, I’d be pretty pissed losing all that out to the Air Force, too. But the Navy’s different. They don’t just put anyone in the cockpit -”

“- Oh, really?” You peered up at him. “And how many planes have you crashed, Bradley?”

He pursed his lips. “Like on purpose or -”

You threw your hands up and groaned, eventually making your way over to your bar cart. “- Like on purpose he says! Bradley!”

There wasn’t any ice in the ice bucket, but you didn’t care. You needed something. Anything to take the edge off. You were too annoyed, too fussy - too bratty.

As you poured yourself - and Bradley - a drink, he came up behind you and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.

“Sweetheart,” he cooed in your ear, “I promise you, I have only crashed three planes on purpose.”

Oh how you wanted to laugh. You leaned back against Bradley’s chest, fully ensconced in the smell of his soap and aftershave. “Hmmm, that’s $195M down the drain. Could’ve fed a lot of kids in Kern County with that money, repaved a lot of roads, too…”

He grabbed the drink you had poured for yourself and took a sip, hissing at the burn of the tequila. “I don’t know about the kids, but I can make it up to you.”

The glass was placed back on the bar cart with a clink and Bradley placed his right hand on your hip, while the left slipped underneath the waistband of your skirt and eventually your underwear. Your whole body sagged against him and you hated how keen you were for this - for him. Apparently you really had just needed to get fucked.

“Such a pretty girl…even if you are a bit of a brat sometimes,” he finished, nipping at your ear. “Hey, kid?” You hummed. “You know if I was an astronaut I would cost the US government even more money, you still sure you want me to go down that route?”

“Shut up and fuck me, rocketman.”

“Can do, hell I’ll even buy you dinner.”

-----------

this was so random so i hope people actually like it??? idk if no one does i never wrote it??

small taglist: @howdysebby (happy early birthday!) @sometimesanalice (thanks for the eyes alexa!) @notroosterbradshaw @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @rae-gar-targaryen @jupitercomet @sunderlust @softspiderling @seasonsbloom @heartsofminds @cloudycluster

#bradley and smart aleck #bradley bradshaw x reader

[wreckedandpolemic]

forgive me? - matty healy

prompt: lovers' quarrel

(mdni) and we continue ahead with valentine75!! ok pls do not look too closely at the argument here i suck so hard at angst i cant even half ass it as a setup for porn lol

warnings: oral (f receiving), hand stuff, idk there isn't huge amounts to this

The silence in your flat is deafening, stretching between you and Matty like a chasm, your anger welling so deeply at the bottom that you want to drown him in it.

“I’m sorry?” he ventures, and you whip around to face him. The sheepish grin he wears is, admittedly, distractingly adorable; usually, it’s enough to melt you at least a little, but this time you can barely see it through your blinding anger.

You scoff. “You’re sorry, huh? Oh, well, I guess that makes it totally fucking fine, then!” You kick off your shoes with more force than necessary, sending your expensive heels skittering across the floor. “Tonight was important to me, do you even realise that? Are you so up your own arse that you think everyone wants to be on the Matty show twenty-four seven, or do you just not care?” A sense of sick satisfaction spreads as he processes your words, expression crumbling for a split-second and reforming into a sharp sort of anger that warns that Matty isn’t going to make this easy for you.

Which suits you just fine. You’ve never been one for an easy win. Never been much for losing, either. You fold your arms as Matty rounds on you. “I’m up my own arse? That’s fuckin’ rich, comin’ from you, treatin’ me like a fuckin’ toddler all night!” He’s gesticulating wildly, accent thickening through his frustration, and it takes a tremendous amount of your self-control not to laugh. “Matty, don’t touch that. Matty, don’t talk to him. Matty, come back here.” He puts on an affectation of your voice and accent that’s equal parts insulting and hilarious, and you’re lucky he doesn’t pick up on your quiet snort of laughter. “You actually said come back here! Like I’m a damn dog!”

“Dog would’ve been better behaved, probably,” you mutter. “Wouldn’t have got belligerently drunk and accosted the press, either.” Matty steps closer, breathing hard, tongue darting out to wet his lips tantalisingly. Your traitorous eyes flicker down to his mouth, soft and pink and wet and tempting, and it’s a mission to haul your mind back on track.

“I didn’t fucking ‘accost’ anyone. I told them to get the fucking cameras out of my face, ‘cos I wasn’t gonna give them a fuckin’ story at your fuckin’ event.” Matty defends, and, okay, the sentiment is there, but he had just made everything endlessly worse.

Groaning, you bury your head in your hands. “I told you. I fucking asked you, one time, just nod your head, smile, say you’re proud of me. Was that so fucking hard for you?” You hadn’t meant to admit that part. That it stung not to have his approval.

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” Matty snaps. “Of course I’m fucking proud of you. You’re a fucking star. Just wish you weren’t so embarrassed of me,” he adds, and whatever part of your anger that had crumbled at first sharpens in your chest again at his attempt to guilt-trip you.

He’s not being fair — of course you’re not embarrassed by him, but his behaviour fucking embarrassed you! “You told a fucking crowd of journalists that Jamie, who I have been on a fucking months-long press tour with, and I quote, ‘acts like a massive wanker.’ And he fucking heard you!”

Matty shrugs. “Well, he does. Don’t like the way he talks to you. Could’ve called him a rude cunt, too. Would’ve been even more true.” he mutters sullenly, scowling at the ground.

“God, Matty, you are so— mmph!” You’re cut off by him surging forward, crushing your lips together in a bruising kiss. You pull his lower lip into your mouth and bite down on it, iron spilling over your tongue as the skin tears beneath your teeth. After a long, indulgent moment, you force yourself to shove him away, gasping. “You never fucking listen! You can’t just kiss me ‘cause you don’t wanna hear it,” you snap, pushing down the heat that wells instinctively between your legs.

He’s flushed, breathing hard, unfairly gorgeous like this. “You look so pretty when you’re mad, baby,” he murmurs, tucking a wisp of hair behind your ear, the gentle touch making you shudder. He’s a master at this; resolving your arguments with doe-eyed pouts and wet, needy kisses.

Your resolve is crumbling. “Matty, don’t,” you warn feebly, lust spinning dizzily in your mind and swelling until your rational thoughts are dissolved. Matty grins, predatory — he has you pinned, and he knows it.

”My pretty girl,” he murmurs against your lips. “My little star. Forgive me?” His eyes are wide, faux-innocence shining down at you as your last thread of self-control breaks. It isn’t lost on you that he hasn’t actually apologised, but as his lips press against yours and his tongue sweeps into your mouth, you can’t remember why you care.

His mouth doesn’t leave yours as he walks you to the sofa. Your stomach swoops as he pushes you down, desire thrumming in your veins. Every last thought falls out of your head as it knocks against the armrest, your back arching up towards him. “C’monn,” you whine, reaching out to him where he stands above you, his gaze hot as it roams eagerly across your skin.

Matty climbs over you, adjusting your legs so he can kneel between them, goosebumps breaking out where he slides a hand up your thigh, agonisingly close to where you need it. “Lift your hips for me, love,” he instructs, sliding your dress up your body until a puddle of satin pools around your waist, cool and slick against your heated skin. His warm fingers crook around your panties and he drags them down your legs, exposing your dripping cunt. A soft moan escapes you as he rubs a slow circle into your clit, pressing a gentle kiss to your inner thigh. “So much better than fighting, hm?” he teases, and a flash of annoyance cuts through the lust as you remember exactly how you got into this position.

”Don’t push it,” you hiss, raking a hand through his curls and tugging harshly. He whimpers deliciously against your skin, a pulse of heat spiking deep in your bones. “I’m still mad at you,” you warn, searching your rapidly-blurring mind for your long-foregone anger.

“So take it out on me,” he murmurs, eyes fixed on your cunt, your body tingling under his gaze.

”What?” Your mind is already hazy, the sight of his head low between your thighs infinitely distracting, the promise of his tongue unfathomably tempting.

“I’m going to put my mouth on your sweet little pussy, and I’m going to listen to everything you have to say until you come. Call me names, if you want. Tell me everything I’ve ever done in my life that’s fucked you off, and I won’t say a word.” It’s such a Matty way of resolving an argument that you can’t find a response. “You get to yell at me and you get to get off. Pretty good deal if you ask me.” Matty’s smirk splashes you with a bucket of cold water, latent frustration blooming under your skin — a sudden need to slap the smugness off his face overtakes you.

You beckon him, waiting until his eyes are closed and his lips are parted, a gentle breath brushing against your mouth. He relaxes, expecting a kiss, expecting to be off the hook, and you crack a hand hard across his cheek with a grin. “God, that felt good,” you say as he recoils, rolling your eyes theatrically at his punched-out moan. “Such a fucking slut. Put your mouth to better use before I change my mind.” He shouldn’t make it so easy for you to take back the upper hand.

It’s almost comical how quickly his tongue is buried inside you, a thick pulse of heat sent kicking in your cunt. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction, you swallow a moan as you bury a hand in his curls. “Wish I could fuck your pretty mouth. Shut you up proper for once.” Matty moans into your cunt, the sound deliciously gratifying as it vibrates through you. “That’s your problem, you know,” you continue, the effort of keeping your voice level monumental against the waves of pleasure rising inside you. “You never fucking shut up. You’re— mmh, so fucking arrogant. You act like— ah!” His teeth scrape over your clit and you cry out, grinding your hips against his face as heat throbs sharply under your skin.

”Go on,” he says, grinning up at you with wet, slick lips. He hisses as you yank his curls harshly, dragging his mouth back to your cunt. He licks at you like a starving man, heat pooling in your belly, your limbs trembling and toes curling.

”You act like the fucking world revolves around you,” you continue, struggling to drag the words to the forefront of your soupy mind. “You’re so fucking— God, Matty, fuck!” you whimper, the rest of your sentence lost in the mind-numbing pleasure swirling through you. Matty isn’t playing fair, licking and sucking and kissing at you sweetly, your world blurring around him.

He pulls away and quirks an eyebrow at you, like he’s waiting for your surrender. As fucking if. You take a moment to catch your breath, fingers digging into the edge of the sofa to anchor yourself before he dips his head again, licking a broad stripe along your cunt that makes you whine pathetically at him. “You’re ridiculously pretentious,” you bite out, gasping as his tongue fucks into you in an obscene, glorious rhythm. Ecstasy coils in your limbs, your body heavy at the edge of oblivion. “Disrespectful. And you just. Don’t. Fucking. Listen.” You punctuate your last words rocking your hips against his face, your cunt fluttering around his tongue.

Matty presses wet kisses to your thighs, sweet and teasing as you whine. “Are you done?”

“Repeat it back to me,” you order as he licks his lips, framed prettily by the V of your legs. “So I know you were listening.”

“I’m irresponsible.” He kisses your inner thigh. “Arrogant. Inappropriate at the worst times.” He licks at your clit and you buck your hips against his face, fighting to hold at bay the flood of heat waiting to overwhelm you. “The people you work with think I’m white trash.”

You fist a hand in his curls, tugging hard enough that you feel him hiss in pain against your skin. “Don’t be a smartarse.”

You can sense that he’s about to argue, but thinks better of it at the last second. “I’m pretentious. Disrespectful,” he continues. “And I just.” He laps at your clit. “Don’t.” Heat floods your body as Matty slides two fingers into your sopping cunt and crooks them at an angle that has molten pleasure spilling over you. “Listen.” He sucks gently on your swollen clit, the pleasure enough to pull you over the edge, ecstasy coiling deliciously around your insides. You whimper, grinding down against his face as you come, your cunt fluttering around Matty’s tongue.

You sigh contentedly. “Good boy,” you murmur, savouring his shudder. “So good when your mouth’s full of my cunt. Like you so much better when you’re not talking.”

Matty looks up, eyes wide and face soaked with you. “Forgive me?” he asks, wearing the same sheepish grin that had failed to sway you before.

You sigh dramatically, the seeds of an idea taking shape in your mind. “Come here,” you say, a fond smile tugging at your lips. It’s a struggle to keep it from turning cruel as he takes the bait. “Silly boy.” Eagerly, Matty climbs over you, cupping your jaw and pressing his lips to yours, gently at first, turning hungry as you swallow down the taste of yourself. He moans into your mouth, grinding his clothed cock against your sensitive core. “Needy, are you?” you tease, a faint edge of danger lacing your tone. “Want me to get you off?” Glassy-eyed, he nods down at you, sweet and pleading. “Use your words.”

He swallows thickly, blinking hard. “Want you to make me cum,” Matty murmurs, casting his eyes down like he’s ashamed. You raise an eyebrow when his gaze lands back on your face, and he adds a reluctant, “Please.”

Sliding out from under him, you lead him into your bedroom, laughing derisively as he strips out of his jeans and boxers before the door even shuts. “God, you’re pathetic,” you scoff, smirking as his eager expression falters slightly with the realisation you haven’t let him off the hook.

“Mhmm,” Matty agrees, switching tack and plying you with sweet doe eyes.

“Get on the bed,” you order, kneeling in his lap when he obeys. His hands wander to the hem of your dress, brushing over your thighs as he starts to lift it, and you swat him away. “Think you deserve to fuck me after the way you acted today?” You glare down at him, pulling at his hair to tip his head up towards you. After a long moment, his internal war clear on his face, Matty shakes his head mutely. “No. But you’re being good now, so…”

Matty inhales sharply when you wrap your hand around his cock, flushed and sticky with want. You pump him slowly, spreading precum over him, and he trembles with the effort of holding himself still, sweetly pliant under your hand. “Thank you,” he mumbles, swallowing thickly.

You lean down to press your lips against his, swallowing his needy, suppressed moans. “It’s okay, baby. Being so good. Can fuck my hand if you need to.” You’re being cruel, now, knowing how you’re going to leave him, but it’s sickly thrilling having him in your power like this.

Murmured thanks fall from his lips between sweet little whines, his hips bucking into your fist as his cock leaks over your skin. Languidly, you press your tongue into his mouth, trading long, sloppy kisses broken up by Matty’s pleasured moans.

Taking Matty apart under your skilled hands is easy, now; you’re practised in everything he likes. You dig your thumb into his slit, twist your wrist just so, swallow every sweet noise he makes. His body tenses, his groans deepening, turning rhythmic, signalling his orgasm. You let him chase his release up until the very last second, pulling away and smirking meanly down at him.

Confusion clouds across Matty’s face as he looks up at you, reeling from his ruined orgasm as if you’ve slapped him. You let him catch his breath before you take him in your hand again, working over him, pulling him to the edge again. “Do you have anything to say, baby?”

Matty’s mouth falls open, the struggle to pull any meaning from your words plain on his face. “Please?” he tries, face falling when you shake your head, a moan escaping him as you flick your thumb over his slit. “Thank you,” he mumbles thickly. “I love you.”

You cock your head, appraising him. “That’s nice. But not quite. Try to think a little bit harder, yeah? I know that’s tough when I’ve got you all stupid for me, but try,” you croon, tone sympathetic and deriding all at once.

Matty’s face scrunches in concentration. “‘M sorry!” he chokes out, whining when you press a kiss to the head of his cock.

“That’s it,” you breathe, kissing him softly in reward. “Good boy.” Arousal coils in your belly at the sight of him, breaking into a thoughtless mess under your hands. You stroke over his cock a few times more, watching his stomach tense and relax as his orgasm builds. Then you stop, letting him whine desperately into your mouth.

He hasn’t wised to your game, still hopeful through his lust-hazy gaze. “You embarrassed me today,” you chide. “Why?” You dip your head, lapping over the tip of his cock, letting him thrust into your mouth, a spit trail connecting your skin for a brief moment. You kiss the salt of him back into his mouth, devouring his desperate moans as you stroke him. “I asked you a question,” you murmur against his lips.

There’s an answer forming on his tongue, you can see, watching him struggle to swallow it down. You pull away, lifting your hand to lap the taste of him off your fingers, giving an exaggerated moan. Matty whimpers, desperate, hips rocking against nothing as you batter against his defences. A burst of pleasure licks up your spine when you drag your fingers through your still-soaked cunt. Matty’s answering moan as you wrap your wet fingers around his cock is nothing short of pathetic, low and thick with lust. Clicking your tongue disapprovingly, you repeat your question, the ensuing silence thick with the unsaid. You know the answer, but it’s no fun not to pry it out of him. “I was jealous, okay!” he gasps out. 

He won’t meet your eyes, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Aw, I know,” you croon sympathetically. Your touches turn tender, coaxing. “It’s okay, baby. Don’t need to be jealous. Don’t want anyone but you. I’m yours, yeah?” you promise, lifting his head to deliver your words into his shadowed eyes.

“Mine,” he echoes faintly, rolling his hips up into your hand and whining. Your thighs clench at his possessive tone; you love being his, being the only one who gets to have him like this. “Gonna cum, fuck, please let me cum, fuck!” The last syllable crumbles into a sob as you pull away, ruining him for the final time. “‘M sorry, ‘M sorry, please let me cum,” he whimpers, so sweetly pathetic that you almost want to let him cum.

Almost. Matty’s chest heaves, struggling for breath and sanity as you climb off him, smoothing your dress down nonchalantly. Pouting down at him, you click your tongue condescendingly. “Poor baby. You don’t get to cum tonight, okay? How are you gonna learn a lesson if I give you what you want now?”

He gasps, chokes, twitching as he fights to stay still. “Please?” he murmurs, so quiet that you aren’t sure whether he’s addressing it to you or subconsciously voicing his need.

Either way, you shake your head at him with a shrug. “Get control of yourself and we can watch a movie, yeah?”

Matty gives a shuddering nod as you turn to leave, squaring your shoulders so you don’t look back at him.

After a few minutes, Matty slopes into the living room, dressed but still looking fucked-out, hair wild and eyes downcast. You rest your head in his lap when he comes to sit beside you, smiling blithely and uncaringly up at him.

“Are you still mad?” he ventures, petting your hair tentatively.

“Depends,” you answer, feeling his body tense at your words “Are you gonna pull that shit again?”

“No,” he replies without hesitation, shuddering at the thought of what you just put him through

“Then no,” you grin, and Matty relaxes under you. “But you still don’t get to cum,” you can’t resist adding.

He pouts down at you, but his eyes are shining with mischief, any lingering tension fully faded now. “Can I make you come again, then?”

Sitting up, you climb into his lap and kiss him for a long, luxurious moment, heat swelling between you as his tongue slides against yours. “Say please.”

#'fuck' count: approx. 35 #matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy smut #matty healy imagine #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #writing #smut #valentine75

[littlejuicebox]

LittleJuicebox Masterlist

Click here for my AO3 account. (Converting is a WiP).

If you’d like to be added to a tag list, please DM me and I can send you the google doc link. I have decided to keep tag lists for each individual series so you only get tagged in the ones you want.

My personal favorites are denoted by a +.

GN reader is denoted by a * otherwise assume Fem reader/OC.

Titles colored red are smut or other mature themes, 18+ only.

AstarionxWren Series:

This is a canon-adjacent passion project which focuses on Astarion and Wren, a ranger half-elf with her own backstory. She is based off my first Tav. Do you like angsty slow burns where two broken people find one another and learn to love again? Then this one is for you.

Chapter 1 / Chasing birds to get high (PG) + Chapter 2 / Between comfort and chaos (PG) Chapter 3 / Sunshine and midnight rain (PG13) + Chapter 4 / Protect the flames (M/Gore) Chapter 5 / Blue and silver bonded (PG13) Chapter 6 / Remember how it feels to have a heartbeat (PG13) Chapter 7 / Give peace a chance (M/Smut) + Chapter 8 / Dancing in a burning room (M/Gore) Chapter 9 / Lavender haze (PG-PG13?) Chapter 10 / I want to hold your hand (PG13)

Midnight Chimes Series:

Your parents own a tavern in Baldur’s Gate, and Astarion was somewhat of a regular when you worked at the bar in your younger years. You don’t exactly trust him. Now you’re an apothecary owner based in Waterdeep, and when the two of you crash on the beach, you aren’t exactly thrilled to see him there, too. But things aren’t always what they seem.

1 / The Prologue +

2 / Three years

3 / Luck +

4/ Ringleader

Midwinter Carol Series:

Eirianwen and Astarion were in love before the Ascension ritual changed his behavior toward her. She refused to become a spawn, and they went their separate ways. The story starts when they run into one another fifteen years later; Eirianwen returned to the city to deliver some news to the pale elf. Meanwhile, the Ascendant had a night time visitor that convinced him to change his ways, and he believes his ex-lover might be the key. Will he be able to change after fifteen years of living life as a debauched degenerate?

1 / The Prologue +

2 / The Barrier

3 / The Carriage

4 / The Auction +

5/ The Repeat

6/ The Affliction

7/ The Interrogation

8/ The Scheme

9/ The Snake

AstarionxReader One Shots and Mini-Stories:

Mini-Stories are grouped together in order and denoted by a “Part X” in sequential order after the title. These are in general "timeline" order and follow my (admittedly self-indulgent) headcanon for Spawn Astarion x Tav but can definitely be read as OneShots. All stories are AstarionxReader, some allusions to reader having spellcaster ability but otherwise no real description apart from being female in about 3/4 of the fics.

Act 1-2:

The little things.

Before someone steals your queen

Act 3:

Drunken nights*+

The nail salon

You'll stay still, won't you, little love? +

Post-BG3:

Mermaid whiskey+

Baking Cookies*

Astarion talks in his sleep Part 1*+

My Sun, My Moon Part 2+

Glowing in the Underdark+

Reflections on one year of marriage

Highharvestide Part 1

Highharvestide Part 2

Handmade+

Dadstarion:

The wish spell worked.+

Daddy?

Little bump.

Labor and joy

Skin to skin.

Milk.+

Little lockpick.

Beach babies.+

A growing brood.

Puppy love.

Stuck.

Pre-BG3 / Random / Ascended Astarion OneShots

Midnight chimes / The Original One Shot

Pre-BG3. You’ve known Astarion for years… or at least, you’ve known of him. You think he’s a rake, but one night he changes your mind. The series "Midnight Chimes" started based off this "prologue."

A Midwinter Carol / The Original One Shot

“A Christmas Carol” but Ascended Astarion is Scrooge. He sees you after your break up 15 years ago, and then has an unexpected nighttime visitor showing him past, present, and future. Will he be convinced to change his ways? The series "Midwinter Carol" started based off this "prologue."

Naughty or Nice?

You’re Ascended Astarion’s little toy in the middle of a party. TLDR; he’s tease and a BDSM dom.

Dancing on my own

#astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x tav #baulders gate 3 #baulders gate astarion #baulders gate tav #bg3 fanfic idea #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x original female character #slow burn #astarion x reader #astarion x gn!tav #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gender neutral reader #astarion x you #astarion x mc #astarion romance #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #bg3 writing #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #littlejuiceboxfics

[bugs1nmybrain]

YESSSS PLSSSS l x reader smut 🙏 maybe they work together or smth and it gets a little frisky??

Admittedly, I don't know the logistics of being a detective outside of Death Note and crime documentaries, and I can't picture my self in that occupation. However, I like thinking of the idea of L and the reader sitting alongside in each other's company while he works on his cases via his computer, and the reader working on something else such as college homework. So I'll work with that ;).

Distraction

Minors Do Not Interact

Warnings: Heteronormative sex and relationship, L uses pet names like "my love" and "darling," desk sex, established relationship, reader is neurodivergent-coded, reader is a college student, reader is heavier than L, nipple/breast play, L uses clinical terms during sex, oral (fem-receiving), unprotected sex

L could not for the life of him keep his eyes off of you.

He was slightly confused, considering that today wasn't different from any other day. You sat next to him on your computer, doing work for your classes, and he worked on his cases, at least anything that wouldn't expose too much information around you.

Maybe it was that ridiculous wet dream he had of you last night. L doesn't sleep nearly as much as others. Not only did he see it as a wedge in his schedule, but his dreams sometimes distracted him because of his analytical perspective on everything. Sometimes he dreamt of his parents, sometimes about the cruelty of his job, and other times...you.

You weren't helping the situation. Of course you had to choose to wear a very form fitting outfit today. L almost had an issue with how revealing your outfit was, but he knew he shouldn't dictate things like that. But if anyone else looked at you the way he was right now, he wouldn't be happy.

Your shirt practically hugged your torso, giving L a perfect view of the shape of your breasts. Your shorts were also, indeed, short, showing off your gorgeous thighs and their beautiful complexion.

It wasn't only your body, though. L wasn't that shallow. It was also the cutest expression you made while you focused on your homework. How you'd scrunch your face when you didn't quite understand something. Your hair fell in your face and you'd tuck it behind to see your notes better, but then it would just fall back in your face. Even the way you sipped on your drink was turning him on. He felt animalistic.

L wasn't the type to get lost in temptation like this. Sure he indulged in any sweets he wished without the consideration of the toll it would take on his body. And yes, he'd take some almost impulsive, bold decisions when he was determined to take a step further in an investigation. Perhaps he was someone who was swayed by temptation, now that he thought about it.

"L?"

Oh god. Now your voice.

"What is it, love?"

The most insignificant terms of endearment always made you blush or giggle. And it was adorable to him.

"I..um..I'm having a bit of trouble with this part of my homework. Would it..? I don't mean to pry for answers, but-"

"No need to apologize. What is it you're confused about?"

L took this opportunity to move his rolling chair directly next to yours. He leaned over your shoulder, peaking at the laptop in front of you. Lucky for him, he now had a wonderful view of your breasts.

You perked up at his close proximity, and L could've sworn he saw you squirm a bit.

"I'm having trouble with using Excel for the Goodness-of-fit test (you were taking a Statistics class). I checked my data and it's all correct so I'm really confused why my answers aren't coming out right."

L took a look at your screen and in a matter of two seconds knew what was wrong, "You have to round up your expected values to the closest whole integer. It should come out right if you do that."

You smiled beamingly and returned with a, "thank you."

"Of course, darling." L leaned in to kiss your cheek, eliciting a bright smile and blush. You were avoiding eye contact with him, but he knew that was your signal of enjoying his affection. L noticed early on that you were easily charmed by displays of affection, whether that be words of endearment or physical affection. L was not one for touching anyone before you. He had begun to learn how touch-starved he also was when you two had begun your relationship.

The look on your face and your body language was enough to make him hard. Your reactions are what got him the most.

L brought his hand to stroke your hair around your neck gently, making you tingle under his touch.

"Do you have anything else planned for the day?"

"Not really. This is the last bit of homework I have for the day. I don't know what I want to do after that."

"Mm.." L leaned closer, and wrapped his arms around your waist (as much as he could manage with you being in a chair).

You laughed playfully yet again but leaned into his touch. L took it upon himself to make a move, having an inclination that you wanted him to be more affectionate with you. He gently kisses the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine, and a delightful hum from you.

"You're so beautiful, did you know that?" L teases.

You laugh and blush at his compliment, "You must be lying."

"Not at all. The truth is, you're gorgeous. I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes off of you today because of your beauty and charm."

"I noticed."

Of course you did. You were an observant person, which is something L admired about you. Though maybe it wasn't too hard to tell, for he hadn't necessarily been sneaky with his glances at you.

"Does it make you nervous when I look at you like this?" L probes.

"No. Well, I feel a little embarrassed, but I'm not uncomfortable by you."

"There's no need to be embarrassed, I'm merely admiring how adorable you are. I don't want you to feel self conscious."

But deep down, L found your shyness cute and he often took advantage of it. L begins trailing soft kisses along your neck as he held you.

"Mmfmm."

Your voice was going to drive him crazy. If you two weren't in separate chairs right now, you would be able to feel L's prominent erection through his pants. L moves his hands from your waist to the sides of your arms, touching them in a feather-like motion in an attempt to make you feel just as aroused as he is. You sigh desperately at his loving affection.

"You're distracting me from my homework..," you say playfully.

"Good. You've been distracting me all day," L retorts.

An instinctive breathy laugh comes out from you but quickly turns into a pleasured yearn. L takes this as an invitation to turn your chair around.

"Sit in my lap."

"Um..."

"I don't want to hear the excuse that you're too heavy. I insist."

L's look of lust and need makes it apparent that he's aching for this. You oblige his request and rest yourself on his lap, trying not to put your whole weight down. L places his hands on your hips, though, and pulls you down. You underestimated his strength sometimes, because of how light he is.

L initiates a deep, romantic, and passionate kiss. His lips embrace yours tenderly, yet full of yearning. You grind your hips along his crotch, feeling his very obvious boner, which causes a spike of arousal in your pussy.

The kisses between the two of you quickly become much more heated. L slips his tongue to search for an entrance, and you allow him to explore yours as he gropes your breasts, though not too rough. L was a very meticulous lover and not very aggressive. No one would've been able to tell that he's a very tender, sweet, and loving boy. He only let you see that side of him.

He tweaks your left nipple through your shirt, causing a surprisingly powerful response from you. Sounds of pleasure exit your mouth and you hold onto your boyfriend close for comfort. He continues to run his thumb along your sensitive bud, and makes sure to begin to give the other just as much attention.

"Aaahh~"

"Hmm..does this feel good, my love?"

"Y-yes.." you whine.

L continues his treatment as he kisses you. He then removes his hands, which makes you somewhat disappointed, but he proceeds to pull your shirt over your head. He looks at you unapologetically and is unable to help raising his pointer finger to his lip as he gandered at you. You were so beautiful, so perfect for him. Just for him.

His face was dusted a light pink, evident that he was aroused. Though, the continuously growing and grinding of his boner made that much more obvious. L continues to care for your tits, leaning in to suck on your right nipple as he played with your left with his finger. The reactions you gave him was enough to make him go absolutely mad.

You gasp and moan, a bit embarrassed by his fixation on your chest, though it wasn't exactly a bother. It felt very good, as you were quite sensitive there.

You tug at the back of L's shirt, attempting to pull it over his head. He removes his latch on your breasts and allows you to take it off. He shuddered a bit at the cold air against his bare skin, but when you press your own nude torso against his, he feels a sense of warmth and comfort.

The kisses continue, and you begin rocking your pussy on L's groin, causing a grunt to exhale from his mouth. Your crotch moves directly up his shaft from what you can tell through the fabric, and L's hold on you tightens. You lower your head to kiss the nape of his neck, teasing up to the most sensitive spot that you're aware of.

"Ah..Y/N...."

"Mmm," you hum against the kiss on his neck as you simultaneously tease his bulge.

"Y/N..it hurts.."

You look up, scared that you did something wrong.

"What does?"

"My..my penis. It aches, I want it out." L sounds entirely desperate at this point, as his words are becoming jumbled. It made you so horny that you were allowed the privilege of observing him in this manner.

You raise yourself from his lap, which draws out a whine from L, that indicates his need for you. You lower yourself down on your knees in front of him. You realize that the chair he is in is too tall for you to do anything, so you crank the setting so that the chair lowers. When it does you unbutton L's pants and drag them off of him. All that remained was his underwear, that had a wet spot forming along the tip of his cock. It looked so tight around his boxers that you were sure it was somehow painful.

Wrapping your fingers around the hem of his underwear, you pull them down and watch as his cock springs out. It was a little funny, but you held back the laugh in case it made him insecure. You take his pretty cock in your hands and begin stroking it.

"Aah..love.."

"Does it feel good?"

"Yes..but, please, I...I need you."

"Hm?"

"I know what you want to do to me but...I need you. To be inside of you. If you do that, I'll cum too fast and won't be able to penetrate you later."

"I thought I'd help you out with my mouth."

"I know, darling, but I can't wait."

You smile, flattered by his desire for you. You supposed a blowjob would have to wait for another time. Standing up, you leaned closer to kiss him again, and he practically pulled you into his embrace. While he cups your face with one hand, he finds his way to the button of your shorts with only his one hand. He was skilled like that. L pulls your shorts down your legs and is taken aback by how wet you were. He couldn't bare to not touch you.

His diligent fingers grazed your pussy, teasing it in a back-and-forth manner, causing you to whimper. He circled two fingers around your clit lightly, drawing the most pretty sounds from you. His cock was leaking from how seductive you were. Arching your back for him, pushing your pussy into his touch to encourage him to be rougher. He then stands up to place you on top of his desk, and he knelt before you.

L passionately places kisses along your inner thighs and proceeds to the outer labia of your pussy, neglecting your starving clitoris.

"L...please.."

"What's that, love?"

"Please..my.."

"Your what?"

URG. He was such a tease, and he most certainly did it on purpose.

"Please, my clit," you whine desperately.

"Of course, love. Who am I to deny you of that?"

Then, just as you had wanted, L wraps his tongue and lips around your clitoris and sucks it with eagerness. He was so perfect at what he did. L knew all of your sensitive spots, and how to touch you in such a way that makes you absolutely crazy. Your clit continues to be pulled by L's skilled lips, and he proceeds to flick his tongue up and down it.

"AaAH!"

"That's it baby, make all the sounds you need to."

L attacks your clit with his mouth some more, and his gentle demeanor dissolves as he doesn't hesitate to bring you to complete ecstasy. He was determined to make you cum all over his face. His sucks and licks become aggressive, almost overwhelmingly pleasurable. You weren't going to last much longer.

"L-I'm.."

"I know, love. You can do it for me, I know you can."

"MMfmH! Aaa~" and in a matter of 3 seconds, you clit spasms and slick fluid gushes out of your pussy, drenching L's face in your cum. Both of your breaths are heavy, and L briefly observes your pussy twitching. He reaches over to his pants and wipes your arousal off of his face.

L hovers above you, looking you in the eyes, to which you avert your gaze. It isn't that you didn't love looking at him, you were just bad with eye contact. He gently tilts your face to look at him, not so much as to force you to look at him, but because he wanted to see your facial expressions.

"I want you, Y/N..I want to fuck you so bad."

"You can. I want you to.."

He kisses the side of your neck and grabs your thighs to lift your legs, giving him full access to your pussy. He lines himself up to your entrance and sinks himself inside. The both of you are immediately struck with pleasure at the contact.

L thrusts at a moderate pace, making sure he figures out the perfect angle to hit your g-spot. It doesn't take him long at all, as you are moaning in complete pleasure, causing him to become entirely engrossed in arousal. L can't help but to quicken his pace, fucking you passionately as he kisses you. He watches your face intently, discerning what makes you quiver the most, but also just for his own personal amusement.

Seeing you like this. Completely cocksick for him and needy. Your warm, wet, soft, and tight walls drive him beyond enjoyment. Your face as he thrusts in you perfectly, the way you furrow your eyebrows and part your lips is so alluring and beautiful. It makes him addicted to you.

"I love you.." L mumbles.

You grip your arms around his shoulders and allow him to thrust deeper. "I love you too."

L holds you tight, fucking you carnally. Right now, he needs to cum inside of you, to claim you as his own lover. No one else but him can feel how gooey you are and see how vulnerable you become from his attention.

Your tight walls clench and he knows that he's not going to last much longer. He can feel the initiation of an orgasm coming, and he buries his face into your neck.

"Y/N...I'm going to cum.."

"Cum in me.."

You didn't have to tell him twice. With a few more fast thrusts, L finishes by bucking inside of you and cumming deep in you. Surely his seed was entering your womb. It's a good thing you're on birth control.

"Awh..darling, you're.."L's breath is heavy, "you're perfect. I love you so much."

"I love you..I love you more than I could ever tell you."

"Is that so?" L teases.

"Yes," you giggle.

"Hm..well, perhaps we should clean up. I'm sure Watari isn't going to want to take care of all of this."

"Yea, haha. You're right."

L kisses your forehead tenderly, and you both get dressed and clean up the mess you two made.

Lucky for L, he got just what he wanted.

#l lawliet smut #l lawliet #l lawliet x reader

[yukidragon]

Sunny Day Jack - Cat AU

Okay, so, two particular pieces of beautifully drawn fan art have collided together in my head to create a light and fluffy self-indulgent image that I just had to share with you all.

@okamiliqueur's heartbreaking picture of Jack's lonely and forgotten box from the new demo made me think of cats abandoned in boxes, "free to a good home." Only in the case of the game's story, he was left out in the rain to rot, the owner having given up giving him a good home.

@jazzylovetodraw's picture of Jack as a cat has been buzzing in my mind for quite a while. I just love how precious he looks in both forms, and when I was thinking of Jack being like those abandoned kittens in cardboard boxes... well, the combination was obvious.

I know that Jack's fursona is a snake, and I know being a cat is Shaun's thing, but I'm a sucker for kitties. I'm as biased towards cats as I am for dragons, if my avatar and username didn't offer enough of a hint. ;3 I'd love to see all the characters as kitties honestly.

Tempting though it may be to go with Fruits Basket rules for kitty Jack, like I toyed with over on twitter, I think I'm going to play with a different and simpler set of rules. In this universe, Jack is stuck as a cat until his sunshine's love allows him to become human again.

Admittedly, it's kind of hard to imagine Jack being alone for very long when he looks so adorable. Who wouldn't fall in love with that precious kitty face instantly? Most everyone would be putty in his paws.

Content Warning: I wind up touching on a couple explicit headcanon details near the end. I mean, I did say this is a pretty self-indulgent image with my OTP.

Maybe Jack was stuck as a cat via a curse ala Hocus Pocus and is guarding the box/tape/etc. Maybe he was stuck as a cat instead of in the tape and no one could see him until MC came along. Maybe he's got a tragic backstory like the cat from Fruits Basket.

Since this AU is more about the vibes, I'm just going to leave the how and why parts of the lore up in the air. All that matters is that Jack is stuck as a cat and left out in the rain in a cardboard box until MC decides to take him home.

I'm just going to switch over to Alice and what she would do in this scenario. Poor lonely Alice is out on the town, when she comes across the box out in the rain and sees an equally lonely kitten. Poor little thing, all wet and sad... She just has to take him home with her.

Alice cleans Jack up, gets him wrapped up all nice and warm in a blanket, and even gives him some chicken she bought for her own dinner that night. She'll have to get cat food and other things for her new furry companion tomorrow, though she should probably look for his owner and take him to a vet.

At first, Jack isn't sure what to do about the situation, though he is grateful. No one has even acknowledged his existence until Alice came along. She's so soft and warm. He loves it when she holds him. She's so kind too.

Alice does find it surprising Jack doesn't put up a fuss when being given a bath. Jack didn't exactly like the feeling of being all grimy, and don't get him started on fleas and other gross things cats have to deal with on the streets!

The vet isn't as fun, though Jack is well behaved, though very clingy to Alice throughout the appointment. He can't help but fear that she'll abandon him too. He'll keep up the helpless and adorably needy kitty act if it means she'll stay with him.

There's no ID chip, no tag, and no missing notice for any cat that looks like Jack. It's clear that the poor guy is a stray.

Alice is hesitant initially. She's wanted to get a pet cat for a long time now, but she has barely been able to take care of herself. How can she handle taking care of an innocent life that needs her when she's struggling so much with her own life?

That hesitation doesn't last long. Jack loves on Alice so much, constantly purring and snuggling up to her. He curls up with her when she sleeps or relaxes. He was hesitant at first, and she assumed that was because he was wary of her, when in reality, he just didn't want to cross any of her boundaries. He didn't want to do anything that might upset her and make her get rid of him. When she started petting and cuddling him, he wholeheartedly returned the affection, absolutely starved for it.

The first thing Alice thought when she saw Jack was that he was lonely, just like her. He's so sweet and can't stand to be apart from her. How can she just get rid of him when he makes her feel loved and needed?

Of course, a cat's life isn't all sunshine and rainbows. Cat food is a step down from people food, and a litterbox is anything but sanitary. Jack just skips that nonsense and goes straight to using the toilet despite the awkwardness, which shocks the heck out of Alice. He also snubs all cat food in favor of human food.

Yes, I could go with Jack being a ghost(?) cat that doesn't need food or to use the toilet, but then he wouldn't have gone through the indignities of a vet visit.

Then again... it would be funny if Alice brought Jack to the vet, only for them to think she's crazy, since to them all she's carrying is empty air.

Hmm... yeah, I think I'll go that route. As hilarious as vet hijinks and typical cat care with Jack while he possesses a human mind and identity might be, this would be a more interesting and tragic route. No one else can see Jack but Alice. He's lived for who knows how long in a world full of people that don't see him at all, unable to even be human anymore. It'd be a different type of hell than the one in the video tape, similar to what I talked about in my previous ramble.

Imagine if the 1984 incident Jack died and became a ghost(?) cat because he was secretly a cat shape shifter or something. Or maybe something more supernatural happened during the incident. Either way, cat ghost(?) Jack is very, very lonely.

Man, I just realized, it would be even more tragic (and complicated) if I go with the reincarnation route for this AU. Ghost(?) cat Jack probably had to watch Mary die slowly in the hospital after the incident, unable to help her or let her know that it's him. He couldn't even offer her comfort in her final days. It would've been so traumatizing.

For now, let's just play with this AU without the reincarnation angle, since this is supposed to be mostly light and fluffy feline fun with the OTP.

Jack, even as a cat, tries to do his best to help Alice out. If he can make himself useful, make her need him, then he won't ever lose her. He sneaks out when she goes to work to keep her company even though she initially tried to get him to stay home. No one sees him, so it won't matter. Besides, petting an invisible kitty is a good stress relief when dealing with awful customers, and certainly beats regular stimming.

The more Alice cares for Jack, the more powers he gets back, starting with the ability to talk. It's a huge shock for Alice of course, but Jack makes it clear that it's because of her love for him that made her stronger.

Of course, that love is platonic, at least at the start, which Jack knows full well, but he'll work on shifting things to a romantic love... especially after he gets the power to shift back into a form that has hands.

Like in typical canon, Jack answers Alice's questions as best he can. He probably lost his sense of identity like in game canon, so he references CloudyTown and stuff "he" did there, mixing up the show's lore with his own past. It's also intermingled with his many years spent wandering the streets being ignored and going crazy from the loneliness.

Jack does let Alice know that he used to be able to change from a cat to human. He just... can't anymore. He thinks it was because he was forgotten. He doesn't know why no one can see him until Alice came along.

It's so sad and tragic that Alice can't be unmoved by his plight. Sure, it makes things a bit awkward knowing that Jack is sentient and used to have a human form, but she feels for him. It also makes sense now why Jack always turned away whenever she changed.

Yes, Jack could have peeked. He could have even watched Alice while she was bathing, but he didn't. He refuses to do anything she won't allow. Cuddling her and sleeping in her bed is innocent, but the thoughts he'd have about her when she was undressing were anything but. He loves her too much to take advantage of her innocent trust in him. He needs her to want him to see her in that vulnerable state... even if it drives him crazy lusting over her. Poor pitiful kitty can't even have a good wank off session with his paws.

Still, despite knowing that Jack was human and is sentient, it's hard for Alice not to fall for his feline charms and not think too deeply about that fact. She still winds up cuddling him and petting him.

Of course, when it first hits Alice that she's treating a human like a pet, she stops and apologizes, but Jack insists that it's fine. He enjoys their cuddle time. He gives her the big, pleading kitty eyes as he begs her not to stop, and she can't help but give in.

Awkwardness soon fades and settles into a strange new normal. Alice does wonder if Jack really is real or if she was just so lonely she imagined something this crazy... but his presence is comforting. He keeps her company almost all the time. She doesn't feel alone anymore thanks to him.

Also... now that Jack can talk, he says such sweet things. It's weird to have a "pet" take care of her, but he reminds her of when it's time to brush her teeth, wakes her up for work, helps her get chores done despite how awkward it is with his paws and small size... It's so endearing.

The encouragement and assistance Jack gives Alice is wonderful, and his jokes are so fun and silly, but it's the praise that leaves her feeling flustered. If she didn't know any better, she could swear that he's almost flirting with her sometimes. She's in denial that's what it is, but it feels nice to be told that she's cute, and Jack is so sincere about it... and how can she not melt when he says sweet things with such a sweet face?

It's one morning that things change drastically. Alice's bond with Jack strengthened over time to the point that Jack finally can change back into a mostly human form, though he does have cat ears, a fluffy tail, and whisker markings.

It was a big surprise to them both really, as Jack transformed in his sleep. Alice had gotten used to cuddling up to a talking cat during the night, so it was a shock to wake up in a pair of big muscular arms. Jack was so happy when waking her that morning, giddy to show her his (mostly) human side, that it slipped his mind what a shock it would be.

Naturally, Alice bolted back against the wall away from the stranger in her bed. Jack quickly started reassuring her of who he was and that she wasn't in danger. He stooped down to her level, pretty much wilting really, with ears folded back, as he apologized for scaring her. He was just so happy that he wasn't thinking about how it must look from her side...

Seeing Jack so pitiful and sad, Alice feels her heart go out to him. Once things calm down, she can't help but be amazed by how he looks. Unthinkingly, she reaches up to pet his ears and feel how they attach to his skull. She only fully realizes how forward she's being when Jack starts purring.

Flustered, Alice immediately pulls back, only for Jack to whine at the loss of her touch. He didn't mind it at all. He always loves it when she cuddles with him.

It's a complicated feeling for Alice. On the one hand they've been very close for so long. On the other, Jack is definitely a human, so it feels different now.

Yet, Jack is so sweet. He's mindful of her hesitation, even if he's disappointed. It's harder for him to hide his feelings with such expressive ears. Alice can't help but want to reach out to him, especially after they've already spent so much time together, getting to know one another. He's chased away the loneliness that had been haunting her for so, so long.

Of course, now that Jack has a human form, Alice finds her feelings slipping into "dangerous" territory. He makes her feel so good, so loved, and she feels for him too. She doesn't want to dare assume he might feel anything more for her than just a friend, but she can't help but notice the way he looks at her, the way he clearly longs to be near her. He's so tender and gentle... and they've already been so cuddly.

It's easier for Alice to find herself cuddling up to Jack, letting him and taking guilty pleasure from his gentle warmth. He pets her hair too in return, and it feels surprisingly good... a bit too good at times.

The line between friend or something more blurs with all the cuddles and petting. Alice feels guilty about it, but Jack keeps encouraging her until, finally, something has to give and their relationship changes. Both of them feel relieved when it does, as they couldn't help but worry that their feelings might not be reciprocated.

In a lot of ways, it's pretty close to the normal continuity, just with some fuzzy ears on top. Jack can change into a cat at will now. As he gets stronger, people can start to see him, perhaps as a feline silhouette, or maybe with some unsettling shadows not from a cat. He's certainly going to be a bit territorial and not be afraid to hiss and use his claws if absolutely necessary.

Still, this kitty is pretty content thanks to Alice. Jack loves it when Alice carries him around as a teeny kitty, warm and snuggly against her chest, even in the cleavage of her shirt at times. Naturally, he returns the favor, carrying her around the apartment as often as possible. It's only fair after all~!

Naturally, Jack wants to get intimate with Alice as soon as she lets him. He's so pent up. Even with hands to take care of himself, all the cuddling and now kisses just make him ache for her even more. He longs to be inside her, biting her gently and growling in pleasure as he takes her.

A bonus with Jack being part cat is that he gets to have some vibrating action when he purrs. It adds a whole new dimension to their lovemaking, whether he's using his mouth on her sensitive parts, or thrusting himself deep inside.

Oh, I'm reminded of the cat-like features I mentioned in the Omegaverse AU. I guess Jack, having feline features, would have a dick that's ribbed for her pleasure too. Tongue too. Neither would be sharp because rule of sexy, but it would add a very pleasurable texture that a clever man like Jack is going to take full advantage of~

Of course, Alice can take advantage of those feline features too. The base of Jack's tail and ears are quite sensitive, and she quickly learns what spots get his motor running. Of course, getting Jack excited will lead to him pouncing on her and getting rather frisky, but Alice would certainly be expecting that result~

I can imagine Jack could make himself look fully human without any feline features, but he knows Alice finds his cat side to be adorable. She has a hard time resisting petting him when his ears and tail are out, and he certainly wants to encourage her to pet him as much as possible. He also wants to encourage her to let him pet her as much as possible.

Of course, if Jack can become powerful enough that other people can see him, he'll have to stick with only cat or human form when out in public. Still, even when other people can see and hear him, he prefers to be in Alice's company. Cats have their preferred human, and Alice is Jack's.

Naturally, Jack would have to be sneaky about showing Alice love when in public if there's a chance of getting caught. Good thing he has that perfectly innocent little kitty form to hide in. I can imagine it would lead to some interesting interactions where someone shows up only to find Alice incredibly flustered with a slightly disheveled appearance, while her "pet" Jack is just casually looking smug, as all cats do.

Person: Whoa, what happened to you?

Alice, not looking them in the eye: Uh... Jack, m-my cat just... ah, got a bit excited.

Person: Heh. Cats, am I right?

Alice: Haha... right.

Jack: :3c

Hmm... I wonder then if the other love interests should have cat transformations in this AU too. It'd be a crime if Shaun doesn't have that ability but Jack does. Jack already gets together with Alice, so I don't want to be extra cruel to Shaun.

Admittedly, I don't have too many ideas for other characters with cat modes. Well, aside from an image of Shaun taking care of his baby MoonPie by carrying her around by the scruff. This post was mostly just indulging in sweet moments with my OTP with a bit of feline flavor sprinkled on top. Maybe I'll revisit the idea again if I get more ideas than just a bit of fluff.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this silly romp with Alice and Jack having some feline fun times!

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #sdj #swwsdj #Headcanon Ramblings #Cat AU

[spacexseven]

mandatory obligation

NOTE: since i've been playing genshin a lot more recently i've been thinking about #HIM a lot more these days and ive been possessed by the corner of my brain that's obsessed with childe :,) so yes, it's very self indulgent. this can be read as a part 2 to broken vows but not everything aligns well since i didn't plan for it to be read like that

SUMMARY: tartaglia always puts things back on track, no matter how hard you try to derail his plans.

PAIRING: yandere! tartaglia x fem! reader

CW: yandere character, obsession, lying, deceit, manipulation, forced relationships, forced marriage, imprisonment, implied stalking, spoilers for childe's real name :>

you're starting to realize that none of the villagers are really buying your admittedly rather strange excuses. of course, they were all understandably wary to see a stranger stride down the path to your house. more so because he walked with all the confidence in the world, as though he owned the land below his feet. and perhaps they were all on edge because his visits only seemed to start a few weeks after you moved back in, after years of living in the harbor.

still, you fix a fake smile and offer them the most believable out of your quite pathetic array of excuses—"he's a visitor from the harbour. yes, related to my work. no, nothing big. he needs help sorting out documents since the ministry is strict about papers, especially when it concerns foreign businessmen." you never mention a name or any other detail. they don't pry, either, curious minds sated for now.

the lie isn't that much of a lie, considering he was officially in liyue for business matters representing the northland bank, and the ministry was a little cautious, but less because of his business and more because...of his overall existence. you've heard the rumors and even experienced parts of it for yourself, so you can confidently say that he would unsettle anyone. however, despite all the time you've known him, you can't quite tell which one of his numerous whispered-about jobs is true; banker, businessman, or just a soldier. or maybe, the answer was all of the above, with an extra title—fatuus.

despite the general unease from the village, nobody dares question the blue-eyed stranger to his face. he walks straight to your door, never stopping to acknowledge the presence of others, stays for a few hours, and leaves like clockwork, leaving no evidence for the villagers to gossip about and question the nature of your relationship. still, the little details; the boxes he carries, the way he lingers outside your door for a few more moments, the increasing frequency of his visits, they serve some fuel to the ever-growing flames of curiosity.

today, ajax walks in with his usual disarming smile, eyes visibly brightening at the sight of you standing stiffly behind the door.

"i missed you," he croons—the same as always—though you know he means it very much. as is routine, he reaches out for your hand with his gloved one and places a kiss on the back of it, maintaining eye contact with you all the while. his smile turns into a menacing smirk at the slight downturn of your lips.

"come, darling," he gestures to your table, as though you were the guest and him the host, "look at what came in today."

as you cautiously walk past him and sit down, he unravels a thick, wrapped bundle he had been holding under his arm, revealing to you a lovely coat of rich, dark color and expensive-looking details. the buttons look like real gold, and you can already tell by looking, that it was made to fit you. everything he bought you was tailored to your measurements, though you never dared to ask how he got your measurements so accurately.

he watches, closely, as you, having known what he was expecting, stand up and let him slip on the coat for you. you pretend to look mesmerized by the feeling of the warm inner lining brushing your arms and run your fingers across the soft material to put on a show of awe for the harbinger. it's very likely that he knew you were doing this out of fear rather than gratitude, but he's appeased anyway, as he places his hands on your shoulders and squeezes, his grip firm but painless.

"it's perfect," he lets go of your shoulders to interlock his gloved fingers with yours, watching your face intently, "...is it not to your liking?"

you pretend to admire the buttons and hemming, the thought of him deliberately picking this out for you more unsettling than flattering, especially when you recalled previous encounters of the same nature, wondering how to explain without upsetting him, "i just...don't need something so expensive."

you didn't need it, especially in liyue, where it never got cold enough for you to be adorning such a thick coat without sweating profusely. at least the expensive hand-embroidered clothes and jadeite earrings he bought you before were thin enough to be worn on visits to the harbor and rare outings together, and the silk underclothes you could wear to bed if you weren't constantly worried about him wondering if you were wearing those and coming to see for himself. this coat, however, was impractical and lavish, and you wondered if this is how all the rich spent their money—foolishly.

"it's not meant to be worn here, my dear," he chuckles, "it's for when we visit snezhnaya. it's far too cold there to be in your usual outfits."

before you could stop yourself, you speak the words lingering in your mind, "i don't need it."

he pauses for a few minutes, the charming smile slipping for a terrifying moment, before returning, the realization striking him immediately, "very cute, darling. although i wouldn't mind you wearing my coats, i think one tailored to your size would fit better, no? besides, i only bought one, just so you can wear it for when we have important visits in snezhnaya. otherwise, my love, you can wear any of mine that you like; in fact, i would prefer that, since everyone would see you and know at once that you're with me."

you weren't going to tell him that that wasn't what you meant, shattering the pretty picture he had painted in his mind. you couldn't risk angering him by informing him that you weren't planning on going to snezhnaya anytime now or in the future, and you didn't need a coat. you didn't want to see that side of him again, not when there were so many others at risk. so you smile, and though it's painfully stiff, he smiles back at the sight, pleased at your compliance.

you foolishly thought that everything would blow over when he walked out that night, new, expensive coat buried deep in your closet with the other gifts. he had graced you with yet another kiss and saccharine sweet greeting before leaving, and you watched from your doorway as his figure became smaller and smaller in the distance. you noticed that he lingered by a house in the village for a few minutes too long, but just as you were about to go out and see what he was up to, he was gone.

it's only the next day, when one of your neighbors stopped you that you realized what sinister plot childe had been planning.

"congratulations!" she grins at you, face beaming with happiness, "oh, i'm so happy you're having a ceremony here, too! i would hate to miss such a beautiful occasion."

you must have done a terrible job at hiding your surprise, because she rushes to explain herself, "your fiancé told us yesterday evening, and told us the formal invitation for the wedding would be out soon. was he not supposed to tell?"

you manage an awkward, choked laugh, feeling your head spin, "i told him...that we should keep it a surprise. about the wedding, i mean, i hadn't told anyone we were engaged yet because—"

"oh, yes," she's still smiling, and it's almost irritating now, "you must have been worried because he was a foreigner, right? don't worry, everyone already loves him!"

"i'm very glad to hear that," you tell her, forcing yourself to sound as genuine as possible, "and i'm really grateful for your wishes. i have to go now, though, and get some things for tonight."

although you escape her, you soon realize word had spread to everyone in the village. you were being bombarded with congratulations and well wishes, and people gushing about how considerate your fiancé was for having a little ceremony here so your community can see the two of you before you leave for snezhnaya, how thoughtful he was, for asking them what traditional ceremonial foods he should have for the occasion, how generous he was, for sponsoring your wedding.

they gushed over his charming personality and his pleasant words, demanding to see the ring he got you, the one you never wore. they playfully berated you for hiding such a big change in your life, claiming it would have been no problem if you were engaged to him even if they had no idea who he was before this. it was stressful and exhausting to smile and thank them for their words, squeezing your way out of the crowd to the safety of your home, and even then the little peace did not last long.

ajax swings the door open only to see your figure slumped over on the table, tired by the fuss. immediately, he goes to you, sitting next to you and going to stroke your head in an attempt to coax you into unleashing your troubles. despite your mental insistence to never let him get to you, you can feel yourself relaxing under his soothing touch, being starved of such gentle affection for so long.

"you alright there, pretty girl?" he coos into your ear, hands still brushing your hair.

you sigh, not wanting to talk at the moment, but he keeps going.

"i'm sorry if the announcement was too sudden, but it's been more than a month, and you haven't let anything slip. not even wearing the ring i bought for you—i was almost hurt, but i understand. now that you know they're all happy for our engagement, though," as he pauses, a hand squeezes yours, "you should start wearing it, so that they don't get the wrong idea, hmm?"

you find yourself agreeing listlessly, disheartened by the terrible turn things had taken. still, how long could you have kept up the charade? how long could you have avoided the wedding and him? you've always known that ajax was ready to do anything to get what he wanted, regardless of how it may torment you or others. you should have expected such a move from him.

"i've planned for our trip to snezhnaya about two weeks from now, so you can meet everyone back home and we can plan for our wedding," he says, not waiting for you to agree, "i haven't told anyone about the journey yet, since i'm afraid teucer will try to sneak onto a ship to come see us again," he smiles at the memory.

you can still remember it, too. it was one of the few times with ajax that you were somewhat happy, since it was hard to dislike teucer, even if the boy idolized ajax to an extent that made you worried.

that day, the news came to the both of you when you were having lunch in the harbor, a frantic underling interrupting you with a panicked explanation about a teucer and sneaking onto the boat. at the time, you were clueless about the exchange, but ajax, unusually riled up, decided the two of you had to go to the bank at once. there, you met teucer, a boy far too adorable to be related to the harbinger. you knew that ajax wrote to his family about you and some parts of his work regularly, but you hadn't expected the enthusiastic greeting teucer showed you, gasping in awe and asking you if you were really going to marry his brother.

while you had been overwhelmed by the sudden questions, ajax quickly stepped in to calm the boy down and offer to show him around the harbor, only after chiding him on his foolish and reckless decision to come all the way to liyue on his own. the rest of the day was honestly pleasant; you witnessed a new side to ajax and were endeared by the boy, who was far too unsuspecting and excited about everything. when the time came to send him home, he told you earnestly that it had been one of the best days of his life and pleaded with you to come visit soon. how could you have said no to him in that moment?

even now, ajax holds your promise over your head, using it to remind you that you couldn't break teucer's heart. either way, you'd be coming with him, as he often said, but it would be nicer for you if you'd come willingly.

"i think teucer only excited everyone more with his stories about you," the harbinger continues, a tinge of excitement in his tone, "and i already know that they would absolutely adore you."

you nod, not at all as excited as he was to visit his family. ajax stands up and goes to your room, not explaining his sudden actions. you can hear the sound of your closet door opening and drawers being pulled, and you bolt towards the room, bewildered by his unreadable expression and fluid motions.

"what are you doing?" you gape at the speed at which he was picking things out, with no consideration to your privacy, "i thought we were leaving in two weeks!"

"did i say two weeks?" he nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders, "i meant one. we have to leave for the harbour a few days before our departure," he was obviously unbothered by how upset you were, "i'm only helping you pack."

he rummages around in your room before picking something up with his slender fingers, turning to you with a grin that sent chills down your spine, "come here."

you obey his command, sensing that he was on the brink of losing his temper. he grasps your hand with a painful. bruising grip, and you were almost certain that he was crushing your fingers. in his other hand, he held a heavy ring, one that was far too familiar, with the expensive, shining stone glaring up at you. you already knew what words were inscribed into the band, despite never wearing the ring again after the first time he placed it onto your finger. as the cool metal slid onto your finger, you thought it was deceivingly beautiful; a ring doubling as a collar being locked into place, to serve a reminder of who you were tied to.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere childe x reader #yandere childe #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere tartaglia x reader #yandere tartaglia #yandere ajax #yandere childe x you #childe x reader #childe tartagalia #tartaglia 🐟 #tartaglia #genshin impact #tartagalia x you #genshin 🐟 #os 🐟 #SOOOO NERVOUS ITS BEEN 4EVER SINCE I WROTE FOR HIM :(

[helena-thessaloniki]

Just dropping in to say that Silent Night has me in a chokehold I will likely never recover from and that you are awe-spiringly talented!! (new chapter is *chef's kiss*) I believe I speak for the damirae fandom when I say the wait for your updates is sweet torture and reading is an absoLUTE delight 🩷

If you don't mind questions ofc, I am super curious as to how you found damirae and got inspired to write for it! The DCAMU community size has nothing on popular anime fandoms, so I'd love to hear how it started 🥰 Your grasp on their deep and compelling characters is so immaculate (+ the heartwrenchingly articulate writing style??🩷) 😍😍 ugh love it to the moon and back!!

ahhh hi !! Thank you so much. It's pretty much terrifying posting a new story in a new fandom, so I really appreciate this. 🖤

yes! Always open to questions. :] the various algothirms must have targeted me, because I've always seen such great art for damirae, I didn't realize it was a smaller fandom and something of a rare pair on Ao3. Silent Night definitely draws inspiration from gorgeous artwork by @kasieli.

Looking back, there's a chance that damirae was my first childhood OTP? I grew up watching the early 2000s Teen Titans and shipped Raven and Robin before my little kid brain could properly understand anything about romance. I have not rewatched the show as an adult, but this is such a fantastic edit by @unlikely-alliance. I mean, it's a cartoon but their chemistry and closeness is out of this world.

Then sometime last year I got hit hard with the Marvel fatigue. (DC too, but admittedly, I didn't give the Titans live-action show a chance, too afraid they botched Raven.) The comics, movies, and animated shows were such a quintessential part of my childhood, so it was kind of upsetting to realize I was so tired and uninspired by it all. Trying to reclaim some of that old joy, I guess, led me to start rewatching Justice League and working through the DC catalogue on HBO/Max. Instead of watching in order, though, I went straight for the Teen Titans movies, knowing ahead of time from tumblr that Robin/Raven would be canon this time. 😏

Probably my writing of them is more inspired by the old cartoon, but we only get the complexity of Robin-Damian Wayne because of the DCAMU and I am so grateful for it. The way it makes them make so much sense as the only two people who could properly understand and deeply care for the other creates such a dream pairing.

Thank you again 🥰🖤 this is the most absolutely self-indulgent fic I have ever written and posted, I'm so surprised and grateful for such a positive response.

#my asks #silent night fic #damirae #demonbirds

[cowboyfromh3ll]

AHHHH FANTASTIC!!!!!!

okay so , I'll just send one for kieran.. I LOVE SEEING OTHeR PEOPLE WRITE FOR HIM BECAUSE I DO SO MUCH :) <3

so for a request, maybe it's after kieran gets off the tree, and the reader (either gender neutral or fem but its up to you! <3) notices he has a slight limp and he complains about his back hurting a bunch, so the reader is like

"well why don't you come to my tent tonight and i'll help you out?" and kieran (reluctantly) agrees , and supposedly he's just getting a back massage

so in the evening he goes to readers tent, they/she has a lantern and a bottle of oil and shes like "go on and take off your shirt", SEEMINGLY innocently (and it'd be better tbh if they/she didn't ACTUALLY have any intentions)

so he does and they start giving him a back massage, maybe straddling the back of his thighs as they do so and at first its quiet, and it feels SO. SO good and kieran moans by accident

and, they're like.. 😳 okay.. but they keep going and say nothing , and things start getting a bit more tense when he keeps moaning and reader feels him squirm and sees him trying to rut his hips into their cot ..

... and things get.. spicy...

THIS IS DEF NOT SELF INDULGENT AND I HOPE ITS NOT TOO MUCH!!!! I HOPE ITS OKAY TO ASK FOR THIS ITS TOTALLY OKAY IF NOT BUT PLEASE I'D LOVE TO SEE THIS AND YOU'RE WRITING IS AMAZING !!! TAKE YOUR TIME <333333 :(

Heaven Is A Bedroom

(Kieran Duffy x Fem!Reader Smut)

I didn't edit this 🖤

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex

Kieran was broken for good, though the weepy, petulant state he occupied for the first few weeks after being tied to the tree did thankfully fade. He’d been starved and humiliated, something you never partook in, but you did occasionally go and chat with him, offering him any food you did have. Admittedly, you had harbored disdain for Kieran initially, looking down on him for his status as an O’Driscoll, but it was only after seeing how pathetic of a state the man truly was in that you began pitying him. Even if others were around to watch you, you would unabashedly go over and clean Kieran up, spoon feeding him what you could, and talking to him about mundane little topics. You also hadn’t been shy about telling anyone who chastised you to fuck off, arguing that you were grown and could do what you wanted. Kieran himself had been hesitant to accept your services, who could blame him, but seeing how you were so passionate about doing it, and how he didn’t have many options, he took what he could from you.

You watched on in slight amusement as Bill terrorized Kieran, a burgeoning sense of annoyance rising in you when you saw him with glowing red shears in his hand. If it were anyone else, you would’ve swatted their hands away, but you did not want to deal with Bill. You couldn’t help but gasp and ogle when they forced Kieran’s pants down. Part of you wanted to yell at them to stop, another part of you wanted to laugh at just how unfortunate the situation was. It seemed as though every time Kieran’s pain and suffering reached its crescendo, it somehow managed to reach infinite more peaks. You dare not look at Kieran for too long, granting him some sort of dignity.

In a matter of minutes, Kieran had managed to find himself relieved from his restraints, being untied so he could lead a few of the men to who knows where. You watched on in vague interest, relieved he had managed to rid the camp of a few of the men. ‘If only he had taken Micah with him’ you thought. Besides your own catty thoughts, you made a mental note of Kieran’s limp. You smiled in excitement at the opening that presented itself to you. Offering a massage to Kieran might be another act of kindness you could grant him, helping him feel more at home. Perhaps Kieran’s hearty reserves of suffering made him pliable enough to accept such an invitation.

After their return to camp, you had been one of the first to hear from Arthur about Kieran’s brave act in saving him. Rather heroic for someone so callus he claimed. The story was quite delightful, certainly affirming the fact that he was deserving of a massage. A prize for such a victory you thought.

“Hey Kieran.” You approached him with a cup of coffee in hand. The way he turned to look at you was akin to a child being caught doing something they weren’t supposed to do, even though he was only brushing the horses.

“Oh, hey, (Name).” His voice cracked with nervous inflection. That same timid pronunciation that made you feel a sense of endearment for him.

“I heard about what you did today.” You smiled while taking a sip of your coffee. “Real brave of ya, saving the life of the camp’s big, strong man.” You giggled, motioning over towards Arthur.

“Yeah well, I feel like if I didn’t then Bill or John would’ve thought I was the one who killed Arthur then killed me…” He said sheepishly. The two of you stood there awkwardly, processing the morbid implications of his remark. Kieran wanted to slap himself.

“But uh, I managed to gain my freedom! In a way, even though I’m not allowed outside of camp, at least I’m not tied to that tree anymore. They almost let me go entirely, but I had to argue with ‘em a bit…” You nodded in understanding. Kieran was right, a decent point of contention was the fact that he saved Arthur’s life. And was riding with the gang not more freeing than the gripping fear of looming death by Colm O’Driscoll himself had he not continued to stay with the gang?

“Well I noticed you were limping there.” You pointed out his awkward gait, circling your finger as you looked at his legs.

“Yeah well, being tied to a tree ain’t too comfortable. My back hurts real bad.” Kieran stretched, and as if on cue, his back cracked painfully loud, causing you to wince.

“Well if you’d like, I can give you a massage.”

The forwardness of your request caused Kieran to choke on his own spit, and you watched on in concern as he gripped his chest, doubling over as he tried to gather himself. His face flushed so hard you thought something might rupture if any more blood arrived.

“If you’d like of course… you don’t gotta… accept.”

“No! No, I mean, I’d appreciate it very much, yes.” He interjected, nodding overzealously. You smiled in satisfaction, nodding to yourself.

“Alright then! I’ll see you in my tent tonight.”

If anyone were around you and heard that sentence they might have thought you were inviting Kieran to sleep with you. Kieran seemed to have had the same thought when he realized how suggestive the invitation sounded, but he did not want to pop your bubble of obliviousness. Nor did he think that’s what you were suggesting anyways. Kieran was at least given something to look forward to that night.

Upon his arrival to your tent, he might as well have been greeted by you stark naked. Because in seeing the low light of the singular oil lamp and the bottle of oil, his mind went straight to the gutter. Though your enthusiasm to help overrode any sensual thoughts he might’ve had. Your wide smile and rosy cheeks looked far too innocent to be entertaining such thoughts.

“Hey Kieran!” You greeted, patting the cot next to you. You rested on your knees, waiting for Kieran to make himself comfortable. He continued to stand at the flaps of your tent in consideration, giving this whole ordeal a second thought. He definitely wanted it, but he had never had this done to him before; he simply didn’t want to embarrass himself. Adding to that, what if this whole proposition was part of some twisted, elaborate prank you had set up with a few of the others to embarrass him.

“Get in here already!” You ushered, dragging him in by the arm, effectively leaving any doubts he had outside the tent. He laughed dryly to himself, feeling his muscles tense up even more. He stood there awkwardly, as if he were instructed to carry out a bank robbery and was sent in without a single instruction; he didn’t know what to do.

“Take off your shirt.” You instructed, opening the bottle of oil and rubbing it on your hands. The glowing light from the lamp gave your hands an orange glow. The instruction caused Kieran’s mind to go to the gutter once again. Shakily, he began unbuttoning the front of his shirt, his eyes darting from his shirt then to you with each button he undid. As more of his torso was revealed, he began to fidget uncomfortably. He felt your eyes boring through his torso as he slid his shirt off hesitantly. After weeks of malnourishment, he had suddenly become incredibly self conscious of his body. He looked back up at you once again and felt a small sense of relief when he saw your smile.

“Alright, now lay down.” You patted the cot once again and moved aside to make room for him to climb on. He grunted as he adjusted himself, letting out a sigh he didn’t know he had been holding when he relaxed his limbs and released his full weight onto the cot. His muscles went rigid when he felt you move onto his back, straddling the back of his thighs and putting your body weight on him.

He pushed himself up with his forearms frantically, looking back at you.

“W-W-Wait what are you doing?!” He swallowed hard, beginning to tremble. He felt as though you might call Bill or Arthur in any second now.

“I’m just getting into position! Relax…” Kieran’s eyes widened when your slipper hands slid onto his shoulders, giving them a squeeze before gently pushing his chest back against the cot again. You realized how much he was trembling, pursing your lips when you realized how much work you had to do.

“Alright…” He tried to relax for you, putting his arms to his side, a gesture of vulnerability that was a milestone for him. He heard you giggle to yourself above him, blowing hot air onto your hands before touching his shoulders once again. You dug your digits into the knots in his shoulders, pressing in circular motions. It took everything in Kieran to not unleash the most embarrassing sounds of his lives.

The massage was undeniably good. You’d first worked on his shoulders, alternating between cupping one of your hands in a c shape and dragging along his traps, to using your thumbs to dig into the muscles. You grimaced when you felt the knots shift beneath your fingers, admittedly becoming a little squeamish. Sometimes you’d even go in with your elbow.

“You’re real tense.” You’d comment, to which he laughed bashfully. “Yeah…”

You reached for the bottle of oil next to your foot, leaning down before unscrewing it and pouring more into your hand. Some of the thick liquid seeped through your fingers and dripped onto Kieran’s lower back, to which he would arch his stomach off the cot momentarily. Your hands traveled from his shoulders down along his dorsi, where you’d form your hands into knuckles and dug them in, dragging them along the muscle. Kieran would let out the occasional curse or hiss, to which you’d both laugh at. But when you began massaging a particularly sore spot, he let out an incipient moan.

You froze; Kieran felt you freeze. You both sat there in a mortified silence as you let the awkwardness from what you’d just heard settle in. You let out a pithy laugh to try and cut the tension, feeling just how rigid Kieran’s thighs had gotten under you.

“You uh, must be really enjoying yourself.” You joked stiffly.

“Yeah…” Was all he could say in return; he sounded incredibly strained.

You continued to massage him in silence, grunting occasionally as you put your weight into working his muscles loose. He let out a few more squeaks and groans out, and eventually you felt Kieran shift under you, and you almost wanted to chastise him and tell him to stay still, when you realized he was rutting into your cot.

You retracted your hands, making varying facial expressions until your jaw opened slightly, eyes widening. He was grinding into your cot. You realized what he was trying to do. You slid off his thighs, confusing him. He looked back at you confused, hoisting himself up on his elbows to look at you.

“What happened?” He asked. Though he wasn’t completely oblivious as to your reasoning. A sense of depreciation began to spread through his shoulders like a cold wind; had he completely weirded you out by moaning. He felt his stomach turn when he saw you sit before him on the ground next to the cot, looking at the ground as you tried to find your words. You eventually found it in yourself to look up at him, opening your mouth to speak, though it would be a moment before you actually said anything.

“Do you… want me to touch you?” You asked.

Kieran laid there and stared at you, bewildered. Did you mean what he thought you meant? Touch how? He wanted to ask, but he didn’t want to sound dumb. Perhaps you just meant keep touching him, as in a massage, but it had already been established that you were allowed to. He turned on the cot to better face you, forgetting himself momentarily and revealing his erection to you. Your eyes moved towards it and remained on it, indicating what you truly meant to Kieran. His breaths became shaky with apprehensiveness as he clenched and unclenched his fists. Slowly he nodded, unable to get the words out. There was an underlying sense of adolescence in the way the two of you were so nervous. Kieran sat up and leaned his back against the tent, scooting over slightly to the left to allow you room to sit next to him. You both carried yourself with uneasiness, not sure how to proceed and move this moment along.

“Uh…can I…?” You trailed off, making an unbuttoning motion with your hand before pointing at his pants. He stared at you before nodding, suddenly feeling his throat become dry. With shaky hands, you undid the front of his jeans, pushing them open before sliding your hand in. Your fingers combed through his pubic hair before you felt his appendage, pausing and giving yourself a mental pep talk before gripping his base. You pulled his cock out slowly, revealing it to yourself. The dim lighting of the tent made it difficult to see clearly, yet you could see his glistening tip when you tugged on his cock. Kieran was sucking in shaky breaths as you studied it, feeling a wave of self consciousness as you kept looking.

“Oh!” You suddenly pulled away, exclaiming excitedly. You reached for the bottle of oil, uncorking it before splashing some more onto your hands carelessly. In your haste, your nightgown staining with the liquid, a problem you would worry about later. He suddenly felt all the more excited watching you lather your hands in the oil, the light shining on them to make them appear waxy and slick. Carefully, you picked up his cock again and slowly slid your hand down his length, reveling in the wanton groan he let out. He threw his head back before lolling it to the side.

“Don’t be too loud…” You hushed. “We don’t wanna get found out!”

The very idea of people knowing caused a shudder to rack through Kieran. He could already imagine the weeks of teasing he’d have to endure. All the terrible phrases and words that would be tossed around. Not to mention, you’d also probably be on the receiving end of some bullying as well. You began stroking his cock, a consistent slick sound becoming distinct with each pump of your hand. You bit your bottom lip in concentration, using the pitch and volume of his moans to pick up on what you should and shouldn’t do. Soon enough, his erection was glistening with a mix of pre cum and oil. You laughed breathlessly, giddy that you were doing this right now.

Excitement replaced apprehension as the two of you continued, and you subsequently allowed Kieran to pull your nightgown off. It took some convincing on your behalf, insisting he was allowed to look and touch, but he eventually worked up the courage to do it. He looked from your breasts back at you as if asking for permission. You nodded with a smile, beckoning his touch. He trembled as he cupped your breasts, seemingly fascinated by the soft globes of flesh in his hands, particularly the feeling of your hardening nipples poking into his palm. He forgot about his erection, insteading focusing on touching you now. His hands slid down your sides, tickling you and making you squirm.

“I’m ticklish…” You chided playfully, grabbing his wrists. Your face lit up to indicate you had another idea, and you reached for the bottle of oil again. You demanded Kieran show his hands so that you could pour oil on them, doing him the favor of rubbing the substance in.

“Rub me all over.” You raised your brows and moved your shoulders side to side playfully, your breasts moving in tandem. More confidently this time, Kieran ran his hands over your, stopping to squeeze your breasts before traveling down towards your hips. He repeated this in circular motions, properly oiling you up. You squirmed and gasped, half from pleasure and half from feeling ticklish.

Without warning, you got up and removed your bloomers, the only article of clothing you were left wearing. Kieran gasped in surprise, not sure himself how far this was going to get. He supposed he got his answer. You stopped and turned to look at him before stepping out of them.

“What?” You asked in confusion.

“Oh, I didn’t know we’d be…” He trailed off, still unsure about the implications. You looked down at your feet, realizing your brashness.

“Oh…We don’t have to if you don't want to!” You reassured, making a motion to pull your bloomers back on. You felt a tinge of embarrassment; perhaps you had also misread the situation?

“No no, I want to…” He nodded and cleared his throat. “Only if you want to…” He added.

You smiled widely, feeling a non sexual urge of adoration for him. “Yes, I want to too.”

You hurriedly kicked your bloomers off before walking towards the cot. You placed a lithe hand on Kieran’s chest and pushed him to lay flat on the cot. Quickly, you poured even more oil onto your hands and rubbed it on your cunt, gasping at your ministrations. He raised his hips to aid you in shuffling his pants lower before you straddled his hips. You pushed your pubis into him, releasing low moans in unison.

Hurriedly, you lifted your hips as he assisted you in inserting himself. You sat down on his lap fully, taking his engorged cock in all at once. You placed a hand over Kieran’s mouth as you began bouncing on his lap, the only sounds in the room being his muffled moans and the slapping of skin on skin. You bit your lip to prevent yourself from being loud, rather focusing all your attention on raising and lowering yourself.

Your thighs burned at the repeated action, but you willed yourself to continue, only stopping momentarily to keep the burning at bay before continuing quickly after. Kieran came quickly after, but you kept going. Even when his muffled moans turned into high pitched whines from overstimulation, you chased your own release.

You retracted your hand, smirking down at Kieran. He looked completely debauched, his face red and sweaty, eyes watering from pleasure. You teased him by playing with your tits, rubbing even more oil on them as you pulled and squeezed your own nipples. He looked hypnotized by the way they bounced with each motion. Eventually, you trailed a hand down between your legs, spreading your glistening folds for Kieran so he could watch as you rubbed your clit. You threw your head back and let loose a string of curses, cumming all over Kieran’s cock with fervor.

You stilled on his lap, smiling as you gasped and tried to catch your breath. You looked down at Kieran who was smiling back at you. Kieran remained in you as you laid down on his chest, ear to his heart as you listened to it gradually slow down.

“Wow.” He gasped, causing you to giggle.

“Wow, indeed.” You added. The two of you laid there silently, basking in the afterglow of sex.

“Did you like your massage?” You asked suddenly, craning your neck to face him.

“Yes, definitely. Especially the part that came after.” He joked. Your laughter was cut off by angry footsteps outside your tent.

“Are you two done yet?!” It was Bill. “Camp isn’t exactly the most private area y’know!”

The two of you looked at eachother, a look of shared knowledge as you braced yourselves for the weeks of teasing waiting down the line for you.

.

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Heaven Is A Bedroom - TV Girl

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption 2 x reader #red dead redemption community #van der linde gang x reader #writing #red dead fanfiction #Kieran Duffy #kieran duffy x reader #kieran duffy fluff #Kieran Duffy x reader smut #Kieran duffy smut

[brave-and-gentle]

Ice Sculpture date: Reader x Jean Fluff Part 1

Ya'll something came over me this morning and I busted this out for absolutely no reason.

**This has turned into an unexpected mini series. Check out chapter two here.

If you like this, be sure to check out my original character x Jean fic on A03 here

Pairings: reader x Jean

Summary: A year after graduating college in Trost, many of your friends have moved away, but you remained. Your new roommate, Sasha and her friend Connie, introduced you to their friend group. When group plans go awry, you find yourself alone with Jean.

Warnings: none, this all v cute fluff, a self-indulgence

Word count: ~3,400

You were supposed to leave the apartment 10 minutes ago. You always forgot how long it took to layer up with how cold Trost got in the middle of winter. As soon as you lace your winter boots up, you run out the front door and penguin-walk to Jean and Marco's apartment. It was only a few blocks south of where you and Sasha lived, but since it was -20 Fahrenheit, it seemed like an eternity.

It's frigid that the insides of your nose freeze within about five seconds of being outside. Your teeth chatter and eyes burn. This does nothing to help your nerves. You are going to see the ice sculptures made by local artists with a new group of friends you had only met a month ago.

Three months prior, your best friend and roommate, Historia, decided to move to the coast with her girlfriend, Ymir. Your reaction was mixed. You and Historia were two peas in a pod since you met during freshmen year orientation and you did everything together – English classes, the college newspaper, intramural volleyball team, and a few parties. When Historia started dating Ymir junior year, you were a little concerned by Ymir's abrasive personality, but she started to grow on you and she helped Historia become a little more assertive. Ymir had always wanted to move to the coast, so when she finally secured an apartment, it didn't surprise you that Historia sat you down to break the news that she was going with her, leaving you alone in the two-bedroom apartment.

You were happy for the couple. This was Ymir's dream and Historia was excited to explore somewhere new with the love of her life. And yet, there is a tiny bit of maybe not resentment, but you do feel abandoned. This completed the mass exodus of all your friends moving out of Trost. With Historia and Ymir gone, you really don't have anyone.

Thankfully, they refused to road trip to their new home until they helped you find a roommate. It didn't take nearly as much time as you expected, which admittedly disappointed you. After asking around for a few weeks, you found out that Sasha Braus was looking for a place. You knew who she was since you had gone to the same college, but you'd never had a conversation with her. All you knew about Sasha was that she started an archery club at school that apparently was still going strong after graduation. It was an easy decision for Sasha to move in with you. When you met up at the coffee shop down the street, she was incredibly bubbly and kind.

Rooming together was going nearly seamless – although you did have to label all your food in the fridge, lest Sasha get the munchies and eat everything. Soon enough you got to know her friend from school, Connie Springer, who you recognized from the soccer team. He had pretty much taken residence on the couch in the living room, and you didn't even mind. It was nice to have a living space full of laughter – and Connie's snoring.

Sasha and Connie invited you to join their friend group at weekly bar trivia. It was a large group – you'd never hung out with so many people at one time, but with how extroverted Sasha and Connie were, it wasn't a surprise. You could barely keep track of who was who for a while, but after nearly a month of hanging out with them, you think you got it down. Sasha, Connie, Marco and Jean were tight in college. Eren, Mikasa, and Armin had grown up together in Shiganshina and went to a different college in Trost. Eren had met Reiner and Bertholt at the gym. Annie had grown up with Reiner and Bertholt. You weren't exactly sure how they all merged together, but they all hung out together pretty regularly now.

You groan in relief as you approached Jean and Marco's apartment – a beacon of warmth in the frigid, dark night. Your nerves disappear, replaced by yearning for heat. This is the first time you are hanging out with the group without Sasha and the first time outside of bar trivia. It was Jean's idea to go see the ice sculptures. He was an art major in college and knew a couple of the artists. Sasha had a date with this new guy, Nicolo tonight, but urged you to go without her.

You run up to the entryway and ring the apartment buzzer, hoping that it actually works because you realized you don't have Jean or Marco's number. The door clicks, thankfully, and a heatwave washes over you as you open the door and climb the stairs to apartment 313. Or was it 315? You knock on the door only once before it opens to reveal Jean in an old college t-shirt and sweatpants with a hole in the right knee. He isn't wearing shoes. You didn't fully realize how tall this man was until you had to practically crane your neck up to look at him.

“Hey,” Jean says your name. He runs his fingers through his ash-brown hair. “Shit, I'm so sorry, I didn't have your number and couldn't tell you – everyone canceled for tonight. I texted Sasha for your number but she didn't answer.”

Your stomach drops a little. Did you come over here for nothing? You had actually been looking forward to seeing ice sculptures, especially since it was over the college's winter break – it wouldn't be as crowded with students as it usually was. At least that's what you heard, you had never actually gone to see them before. Historia didn't usually last more than 10 minutes in the cold.

“Oh,” you breath, still recovering from the cold. “I guess that means it's going well with Nicolo then.”

“Yeah,” Jean laughs, “If there's any way to Sasha's heart, it's food, and with the way that guy cooks, I think he's in it for life.”

“So where is everyone tonight?” You ask, stalling for a little more time inside. Jean leans against the door frame and counts off.

“Annie invited Armin to go to her father's for the holidays, so I guess they're getting serious. Reiner and Bertholt are sick. Marco got called in to work to cover for someone. Connie won't tell me what he's doing tonight, but I'm pretty sure he's going over to Hitch's for a booty call. And once everyone else canceled, so did Eren and Mikasa.”

“Ah,” you respond, not really knowing what to say now. You don't know Jean well enough to continue the conversation, but you really don't want to go back home. It's only six o'clock, but since it's already pitch black out, you know you won't do anything except rot on the couch all night. For once, you had plans on the weekend and were looking forward to it. You take a step back and point down the hallway. “Welp, I guess I'll - “

“Unless?” Jean interrupts you and rises an eyebrow. His hazel eyes bore into you. Shit, he's really cute. “I mean, you did come over here and you're already bundled up. We could go?” He asks, seemingly unsure of himself.

“Oh, yeah that would be great!” The words tumble out of your mouth before you fully realize you just agreed to a night alone with Jean. “I did make the perilous journey after all.”

“It is cold as fuck and you are very brave.” Jean smiles and rolls his eyes. He takes a step back and motions for you to enter his apartment. “C'mon in, I'll change quick and I can drive us over.”

~

You tense up sitting in the passenger seat of Jean's small, beater car, but as the car warms, so does your conversation. You learn that Jean is an only child and had grown up in Trost. In his art major, he focused on drawing and painting, and was currently teaching art classes at a nonprofit specializing in teaching kids from low-income neighborhoods. He tells you about how his mom drove him crazy, but he still wears the thick, royal blue mittens she had knitted for him. You give him a refresher of how you became roommates with Sasha, how all of your friends from Trost had moved away over the course of the year following graduation.

Once you arrive, you and Jean walk over the to the entrance to pay for tickets, but someone so bundled up you couldn't make out a single feature waves you in.

“For you my man, it's free! Enjoy your date!” You look over to Jean and wait for him to correct the man. Jean's cheeks flush pink, either from the bitter cold or the embarrassing mistake his friend made.

“Ah, sorry about that,” Jean says and bites his lower lip. “That's Floch, he's . . .a bit of an idiot. I know him from the nonprofit, he teaches about once a week. Pretty sure that's all he does besides live off his rich parent's money.”

“Ha, that's okay,” you answer and looked around for any sort of distraction from the awkward interaction. The stars above you shine with a brilliance you'd never seen before. “Wow.” You point up. “I didn't realize how bright the stars could be away from the city.”

“Yeah,” Jean perks up. “It's my favorite part about coming out here.” You both approach the first sculpture, a series of waves imitating the ocean. Dark blue lights underneath light it up. “Brrr, but this cold is not! Actually, I'll be right back.” You don't look behind you to see where Jean wanders off to because you are memorized by the ice wave sculpture.

It reminds you of Historia and Ymir and their new home. The first week she moved, Historia sent you a picture of them at the beach. She said once it warmed up in a few months, they were going to take surfing lessons, no doubt Ymir's idea. An ache grows in your heart, missing your best friend. You are proud of how adventurous she had become since meeting Ymir.

“Hot toddy?” Jean reappears and hands a steaming mug to you.

“Ohhh,” you moan as the mug instantly warms right through your mittens. “This is perfect, thank you.” You hold the drink up to your face, letting it defrost your nose. You breath in the mix of cinnamon and brandy.

“You like this one?” Jean nods at the icy waves.

“Yeah, it reminds of Historia and Ymir since they're living so close to the ocean now. I miss them even though I'm happy for them,” you confess.

“Good for them though, getting out of here.” He take a long sip of his hot toddy. “I've been in Trost my whole life.”

“Have you thought about moving somewhere else?”

“I have, but I don't know if I could ever leave my mom. She's got my step-dad now, but still. Plus, I think I'd really have to make it in the art world to have the money to get out of here. That nonprofit job isn't exactly paying me much.” He gazes at the sculpture, lost in thought.

“Ah, so you're a mama's boy at heart?” You tease and smirk.

“Hey now, nothing wrong with that,” Jean defends himself and tears his eyes away from the sculpture to smile at you.

The two of you continue on, losing yourselves in the towering ice and the glowing pink, blue and green lights mimicking the Northern Lights. You are lost in conversation as well. You discover you are both voracious readers and are discussing a fantasy series you had both recently read when Jean halts.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” He furrows his brows and you follow his accusing eyes to see Eren and Mikasa hand in hand across the field of snow viewing a sculpture in the shape of several large, intricate snow flakes. “They canceled on me and showed up anyway?? Typical Jaeger,” Jean growled.

You bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing. You aren't sure exactly why Eren and Jean are constantly on each other's nerves, but it was one of the first things you noticed when they argued at trivia night over which actor had won an Oscar two years in a row. Turns out, both of their answers were wrong. You had to admit that you found their rivalry a little comical.

“Would you have wanted to go with them anyway?” You press and give a soft laugh. Eren and Mikasa are all over each other all the time, so it's hard to imagine Jean would enjoy three-wheeling with them.

“No,” Jean glowers, “but still, it's about the principle!”

“Alright, let's stay away from them then and have our own fun,” you concede and place your hand on Jean's bicep to guide him away from their direction. You run your mitten-covered hand down the rest of his arm and were about to pull away, but Jean grabs your hand and pulls you closer. Your heart skips a beat.

“You uh, look cold.” He shrugs and looks at the ground. He loosens his hand, as if to let you know that you can let go if you want. Instead, you squeeze his hand and press even closer to his tall frame.

“I am absolutely freezing,” you agree. It's like you had a brain aneurysm, you are never this bold. But you are, in fact, freezing, and Jean is warm. He clears his throat and peers over at you, eyes just barely visible with his knit cap covering his eyebrows.

“So what about you? What are you doing in Trost?”

“Ugh, that's a backstory.”

“I'm all ears.” You launch into it, how you majored in English with great hopes of becoming a best-selling novelist, but the past few months you were stuck in the worst case of writer's block. Unable to find a job remotely close to what you wanted to do, you ended up working at the front desk of a pediatric medical clinic – and barely writing anything.

“You know when you have this great idea, but you realize that in order to make it happen, you actually have to sit down and you know, create?” You gesticulate with your now empty mug in hand, your other hand still engulfed by Jean's.

“Yeah, I know the feeling all too well.” He nods. “I get that way about my sketches and painting sometimes too. It's like the thought of failure has such a choke hold on me that I can't even get started.”

“Exactly! God, the burden we creatives put on ourselves,” you laugh and roll your eyes at your own mild pretentiousness. “I didn't think I'd still be living in Trost this long.”

The two of you finish the ice sculpture route and arrive back where you started. The night was going fast, too fast. You are so long in conversation that you don't see Eren and Mikasa arrive at the exit at the same time.

“Jean?? Is that you?” Shit. You don't mind Eren that much, though he's a little intense for you, and Mikasa is positively the coolest person you know, but fielding the tension between Jean and Eren is the last thing you want to do. Jean drops your hand and with it, a little piece of your heart. Eren and Mikasa approach you.

“Oh, hey,” Eren says your name and a shit-eating grin grows on his face. “Didn't realize you two were out here.”

“Hi,” Mikasa greets you by name with a shy smile.

Jean crosses his arms.

“Yeah, because unlike some people, I did what I said I'd do.” You chuckle at Jean's awkward wording.

“Technically I did too. I said I wasn't going with you, not that I wouldn't go at all,” Eren smirks and his pine-green eyes dance with mischief. Mikasa rolls her eyes and tuggs on his hand.

“C'mon Eren, let's go. Nice to see you two!” Mikasa waves at you and Jean and steers Eren away before a battle could ensue.

“God he gets on my nerves,” Jean says mostly to himself and balls up his hands in fists as the two of you walk to his car. Once inside, you check your phone to see a message from Sasha.

Omg Mikasa just told me you and Jean went to the ice sculptures together?? Just the two of you?? How cute!! I didn't even think about it but you two are PERFECT together. Come home immediately and tell me how it went.

Her message is followed with about a million heart eye emojis.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter and shove your phone in your pocket. Although you thoroughly enjoyed your night with Jean and don't want it to end, you also don't want anyone to get the wrong idea, yourself included. Getting your hopes up had bit you in the ass one too many times.

“Everything good?” Jean asks as he steers out of the parking lot.

“Ah, I don't know. . .” you trail off, unsure how to respond. “I guess Mikasa must have just told Sasha that she ran into us here and she's demanding answers.”

“Which means everyone is going to know in about an hour. Connie's going to be blowing up my phone any minute.” Jean throws his head back in frustration before quickly returning his eyes to the road.

“I can try to correct her, that we're just friends,” you quickly try to do damage control.

“Oh, uh, I didn't mean that. Let her think whatever she wants. Or I mean, uh,” he stutters and blushes. “She's your roommate, I didn't mean to tell you what to tell her.”

“No, that's fine. I'll just ignore her and she can make whatever she wants out of it,” you give a nervous laugh.

The car ride back to the city center is much more quiet and tense. It seems to you that Jean didn't want the night to end either. Despite the tension, you arrive back to your neighborhood much quicker than you expect.

“I can drop you off at your apartment so you don't have to walk in cold again,” Jean offers.

“Sure, thanks.”

He pulls up in front of your apartment building and you unbuckle and pause to look at Jean. Fuck it.

“Do you want to come in? Sasha's probably spending the night with Nicolo.”

“Oh, uh,” Jean pauses and your heart plummets to your stomach.

“It's okay, you don't have to.” You shuffle to open the car door, but Jean stops you.

“I'd love to, actually.”

Keeping with the theme of warm drinks, you make two hot chocolates with peppermint schnapps. Both of your warm outdoor clothing is piled in a heap on the chair by the front door. You and Jean curl up on the couch and move closer and closer to each other as you talk about everything and anything – your favorite movies, your various college activities (you learn Jean was also on the soccer team with Connie and Marco), all the different places you'd like to visit, the frustrations of trying to write or draw.

“Maybe if I wrote something really great I could move somewhere else someday,” you muse. “But until then, Trost it is.”

Jean leans in and lifts his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. You freeze and gaze into his glowing hazel eyes.

“I'm glad you're here,” he breaths your name. An uncontrollable smile spreads across your face.

“Me too.” Warmth from both flirting with Jean and the schnapps spreads throughout your body. He leans in even closer.

“Can I . . .” he trails off. You don't need words to know what he's asking. You answer by surging forward and pressing your lips to his. You both taste like peppermint and dark chocolate. You pull back and giggle. A bold night indeed.

“So, coffee shop tomorrow?” He asks. You learn that you both frequented the coffee shop down the street but were rarely there at the same time. You nod.

“You bring your sketches, I'll bring my notebook,” you promise to hold each other to creating as much as possible.

“It's a date.” Jean looks at you and grins into his hot chocolate mug.

Turns out you have lots to tell Sasha.

#jean kirstein #jean kirstein fluff #reader x jean kirstein #jean kirstein x reader #date night #aot #attack on titan #sasha braus #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #modern au #snk #shingeki no kyojin #fluff #writing #brave-and-gentle #friendship #roommates #reader x Jean #Jean x reader #historia reiss #ymir #connie springer

[passports-pls]

I was very disappointed in the lack of quality Mine playlists so I made my own 🤞

Listen here

you COULD listen to it in your own free time OR you could listen to it alongside my mentally insane directors commentary 😌

(under the cut)

for the sake of this post not getting too long I am grouping all the important songs into different categories pertaining to the different eras of mine tm

Pre-Daigo Misery (Nobody - The Other Woman)

This section is mostly abt Mine being a lonely little weirdo (characterised mostly by the smiths unsurprisingly) and because this era lacks a lot of actual content my notes are less specific between songs

There are actually so many male manipulator songs that fit too perfectly with Mine in this part of his life that I couldn't resist like I'm sorry but creep by radiohead is LITERALLY about him i don't make the rules

Okay but I do find 'Heaven Knowns Im Miserable Now' so funny in this context because I'm sure Mine was forcing himself into the yakuza expecting it to be so much easier to have close connections with these other men compared to his previous 9-5, only to find its almost exactly like his 9-5 just with more crime

'Salvatore' and 'Therefore I Am' are specifically the songs I attach to his bateman-esque grindset and his bubbling hatred for most of the people he works with dsfgf

okay but THE OTHER WOMAN ASWELL. It's literally mine you wouldn't understand. He dedicates so much time to taking care of himself and setting himself up to be an actual catch of a man and yet,, no one gives a shit about him despite all the effort he puts into his lifestyle to appeal to the ppl around him

LIKE??? Kicking and screaming he's so lana del ray coded

Just the sheer depression of this era i feel so bad for him

Yandere-mode activated (Can't Get You Out of My Head - The Killing Moon)

Self explanatory however actually finding songs that pertain to his specific brand of obsession was surprisingly difficult sfdsf

Although I will say that I cope and seethe at the fact that I had to sift through Killing Stalking playlists to settle on most of these songs gfdgsf

Theres such a delicate balance between the right amount of fluff and insanity that very few songs capture without being about literal stalking

like no in this case the stalker fucking won

that and vibes of idolizing Daigo like a god, I think 'Out of Touch' and 'Stolen Dance' do this the best

And freak because I can only imagine in all of Mine's relationships it's always been purely transactional and no ones ever put in the effort to actually talk and get to know Mine in any intimate form.

my poor touch starved blorbo

FEELINGS TM (Romantic Homicide - How to Dissapear)

THIS SECTION I FEEL GREATLY ABOUT

These songs to me are all about how Mine copes with Daigo's hospitalisation and when he wakes up. His whole internal battle surrounding his premature grief and his loss of connection with Daigo because could no longer see him as a truly living thing anymore

'Change' specifically hits when you think about it in this context. Because it's not so much about any real change in Daigo himself it's all about Mine's mental image of him now (because let's be real, Mine was way more in love with the idealised version he had of Daigo more than anything tangible about him)

IFHY is a little more of any iffy choice but I think it still convey's a lot about how conflicted Mine likely felt as well as just continuing his Yandere behaviour just in a much more sinister flavour

Okay but here's where my favourite song of the entire list is

WHITE FLAG BABY

admittedly it's completely self indulgent and ties into the mine-lives theory. But just the guilt and shame Mine felt when he see's that Daigo was indeed alive and that he was going to have to explain the past few weeks to him

yeah i would've thrown myself off that roof as well

also the lyric "I will go down with this ship" paralleling his "everyone abandons ship eventually" line just tickles my brain in the best way

'Door' and 'I Guess' are also just Mine guilt tm as well

'I guess' even more specifically because he's literally attached himself to daigo like a parasite and now he's thinking daigo's gonna break up with him I just AUGH

He KNOWS he's completely fucked up but I don't think he realises how much of a pushover Daigo is just yet and that he would have forgiven him eventually gjfdg

I'll probably update this with more notes as I remember them but for now I hope y'all enjoy the playlist!

#mine yoshitaka #rgg #ryu ga gotoku #yakuza #character playlist #Yakuza 3 #playlist #now I can finally listen to Mine flavoured goodness without gritting my teeth #Spotify

[skellymom]

"Return to Pabu" Part 2

Companion piece to "Cup Of Caf"

To read "Return to Pabu" Part 1

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/740375615328354305/return-to-pabu-part-1?source=share

Background: The Batch returns to Pabu with Crosshair in tow. How will he adapt? Particularly in this chapter, what will life look like for the other Batchers as they settle into civilian life? Pabu is this happy little bubble. This tiny slice of happiness and stability before the Empire shits all over this beautiful planet. Want you readers to enjoy The Batchers being happy in this chapter.

The reader (main character) from Cup Of Caf is mentioned. This story is from the point of view of The Batch and Crosshair.

(My OC Maadienne "Mad Momma" Dax makes an appearance as Hunter's love interest. Since this story takes place in an alternate universe from "Vagabonds", Love, Sil, and Tiggy do not make an appearance. Admittedly, since TBB S3 will be starting up here in a few weeks, this might be the only happy ending Hunter and Mad get. I am currently unsure if I'll be able to finish the "Vagabonds" series before the S3 hype hits. Lol, started myself a fucking novel with that one! So...I'm being really self indulgent with my OC and her love interest in this shorter series. IT FEELS SO GOOD! Thanks for understanding.)

Word Count: 1.5K

Warning: None. Angst, sadness, fluff, some alcohol use, babies. Affection and types of romantic relationships other than Cishet.

Lovely dividers by the talented @saradika

The next morning Crosshair was gone, his bed empty. Hunter, terrified of losing Cross again, was about to track him down. Echo intervened. 

“He’ll come back. Just needs time to sort out his thoughts...alone.” 

Hunter nodded and proceeded to Omega’s room. She was gone. He had forgotten she slept over at Lyana’s house. Wrecker spent the night with Shep. 

Mad emerged from their bedroom dressed and planted a kiss on Hunter’s cheek. 

“Bye Hunky.” 

Hunter mildly panicked “Wait. Where are you going?” 

“Phee and I are spending the day doing ‘Woman Stuff’. Probably don’t remember, you seemed pretty drunk last night.” 

She stopped, looked at Echo then Hunter. “What’s the matter? Lookin’ sad there Handsome.” 

“Oh...uh...nothing.” 

“He’s sad because his squad up and left him.” 

“Now Echo...” 

“It’s strange not being totally in charge, huh? Gives you lots of time to do other things?” 

Hunter was silent, still sulking. 

Mad’s heart went out to him. “You want me to stay home with you today?” 

Hunter gave her puppy dog eyes. 

“Use your words, Hunky. What’s your head say versus you heart?” 

Hunter scowled. “Both say words are hard.” 

Echo chuckled. “Run away Mad, I’ve got him. Go have fun with Phee.” 

Mad smiled, hugged Hunter who took in her scent, and squeezed back. 

“You can’t ever leave Echo. This man needs you as an emotional interpreter.” 

She kissed Hunter then pecked Echo on the cheek before dashing out the door. “THANKS!” 

Both stood there red-faced grinning. 

“I LOVE that woman.” Hunter beamed. 

Echo clapped Hunter on the back. “C’mon, let’s go sneak Tech some caf at the Med Ward.” 

And so, the weeks passed by with Crosshair disappearing all morning, finally returning by afternoon. No idea where he went. The Batch didn’t ask at first. Omega had theories, which she shared with her brothers, Mad and Phee.  

Then the rumors started around the island: The local potter, usually rather withdrawn, was making the rounds around the island. Purchasing food for “The Grumpy Man.” Rumors were confirmed as the skinny bald sniper started filling out. His skin and hair becoming healthy and lustrous.  

Omega set out to start learning how to cook, roping Wrecker in as her sidekick. They packed up meals for Crosshair, insisting he share the food with his new friend. At first, he scoffed, then relented. Eventually Cross slowly started inserting himself into the evening cooking sessions in The Batcher House. 

Crosshair would imbibe in drink and eventually loosen up...for his standards. Sharing small bits and pieces of his experiences while away from the Batch. But nothing TOO deep. Cross was always content to watch the antics of his very happy family. 

Wrecker and Shep would bring in the catch of the day. Then sit and drink, sharing loving touches and sweet glances at one another. They announced their engagement and planned to wed soon. The whole island was invited to the ceremony and reception. They coordinated with Echo on refreshments and Wrecker planned the menu, wanting to cook for his own wedding reception...with Omega’s help, of course. 

Echo, in charge of refreshments, would open a bottle of Spotchka or throw together a Fuzzy Bantha or some other cocktail. Tech had built Echo a mechanical hand that could be switched out with his scomp. From that point on, Echo was the official Batcher Bartender. It wasn’t just throwing together a drink, it was a SHOW! He tossed bottles in the air, catching them, pouring with finesse, lighting the brightly colored alcohol on fire (for Wrecker especially), adding exotic ingredients that Tech helped suggest for certain palates, some of which Phee brought back from her travels.  

On the crazier nights, Echo would toss bottles and Wrecker cooking implements in unison while Mad and Phee sang and Shep hammered percussion on the wooden table with his large hands. Hunter would get up from the table to dance, dragging Crosshair with him. The competition was fierce as both men had an intense “Dance Off” to one up each other.   

Tech was learning the fine art of highbrow humor, especially after one (or several) of Echo’s cocktails. He and Phee would have constant banter at the table. They were hysterically funny when Tech reached the confused slurry speech stage. Phee enjoyed playfully teasing him while he rambled on, index finger raised...then trailing off as he had lost his train of thought. She’d gently slip her hand into his raised one and caress it. Tech would blush red(der) and smile. 

Hunter and Mad sat leaning against each other, shoulder to thigh. Basking in love, occasionally whispering something into each other’s ear. Things that brought their own blush and smile. They shared a secret...eventually requesting Echo make her drinks sans alcohol. Hunter instructed Echo to add Mad’s to his drink, making it a double. By the end of the night Tech and Hunter would carry on a drunken conversation that NOBODY understood except the two of them. Everyone would get hugs though. Even Tech would embrace the guests before everyone left...as Phee eventually escorted him to the sofa. Hunter never made it that far, choosing the comfort of the floor. Wrecker tucked Lula under his head, before leaving to spend the night at Shep’s place. 

Echo would help Mad and Phee clean up, then hug Omega goodnight. He would awaken early like clockwork the next morning, brewing caf in the kitchen. Echo and Crosshair would nod to each other, as Echo slid the packaged food across the kitchen island to him. Then smile as Cross quietly left the house. Afterwards Echo nudged Tech and Hunter awake to start the day. 

Dinner came and went. The Batchers kept their drinking to a minimum tonight. Everyone just wanted a quiet evening. Hunter and Tech wanted to sleep in an actual bed again. Mad and Phee WANTED THEM to sleep in an actual bed again. 

Besides, Hunter and Mad had an announcement to make: Mad was expecting. While everyone was beyond happy and joyful, it was no surprise. A definite event to celebrate. Wrecker brought a cake to the table and Hunter handed Mad his vibroknife to cut it.  

“Uh...we don’t have something maybe...CLEANER to use?” 

“Made sure to wipe it down properly.” 

“Let me guess...this has some kind of significance, yeah?” Mad cocked an eye at Hunter. 

“Well, I WILL be using this knife...MY knife to cut our child’s umbilical cord.” 

“WHAT???” Mad frantically searching Hunters stone cold expression for any trace of total BS. 

“I’ll wipe the blade down properly beforehand. Especially if it’s a C-section.” 

“HUNTER, HAVE YOU LOST YOUR DAMNED MIND???” 

Hunter’s face was dead serious...until everyone at the table burst out laughing. Then he winked at Mad. 

"Kriff! Thought the booze pickled your brain!!!” 

Hunter gently took the knife from Mad, flipped it back and forth expertly one handed and slid it back into its sheath. Suddenly, he knelt down beside her on one knee. The laughter in the room died down to total silence. Mad could see from everyone’s face this was spontaneous and unexpected. 

“Mad” Hunter took both of her hands in his.  

He cleared his throat. Hunter’s expression was mixed: Intensely passionate but nervous. He was out of his element and not used to doing this sort of thing in front of others. 

“Ah...As you know, I’m not the kind of guy whose all about grand public gestures...but I was struck in the moment to tell you...in front of the most important group of people in my life to the most important individual who is carrying my child...that I LOVE YOU intensely with my VERY BEING.”  

Mad slightly cocked her head and gave him her veiled sassy “No duh, Hunky” expression. Hunter almost broke out in nervous laughter but caught himself. Clearing his throat again, he leaned in slightly. Mad got serious and mirrored this gesture. They were close enough to intensely look into each other's eyes and focus on one another. The rest of the room seemed to fall away into the distant background and disappear. Just two people declaring to each other their deepest desires. 

Hunter continued. “I know we didn’t plan for this to happen.” He lovingly stroked her belly. Mad squeezed his hand. “I also know we didn’t plan to be formally married...and I don’t expect that. Heck...” He looked slightly embarrassed letting it all hang out. “I don’t have a ring...or technically own ANYTHING...I’m...poor. But I have a life to give and I want to give it to you. I’ll be the most devoted father to this baby and the most devoted partner to you.”  

“I know the Nomaadi don’t stay in one place too long. And...if you’ll have me...If you want me...I’ll go anywhere and everywhere you want to go. I want both of us to be together for whatever amount of time we have left in this life.” 

Silence. 

Then Mad spoke. “Hunter...” Her voice caught a hitch and she inhaled sharply. She was touched deeply by this gesture of vulnerability and commitment. The baby, barely formed yet, fluttered sharply inside her belly...the first time she ever felt its presence. Everything seemed so REAL suddenly, not just the concept of being pregnant... 

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Part 3 will drop next week!

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