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#that’s the post they’ve just been on my mind lately
donnieisaprettyboy · 14 days
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trans cowboys
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ghostzvne · 1 year
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the problem with putting a lot of effort into honing a creative skill that is only accessible to approx 3 people at any given time is you feel really weird saying you’re good at it because you have no way to “prove” it unless the person you’re talking to is one of those specific people so then it’s just like you’re talking out of your ass and being self-important about it
this post is about being a game master
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rosicheeks · 2 years
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Whats a guy gotta do for a follow back around here? you seem like fun 😉
I like to think I’m very fun 👀🙈
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quirklezz · 4 months
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Rumor has it | Tom Blyth
pairing: Tom Blyth x fem!actress!reader
summary: Ever since the premiere of tbosas fans of yours have been shipping you with your costar, Tom Blyth. Is it all just rumors or were they right all along?
a/n: So I recently discovered Tom Blyth and wanted to make this for fun! Mainly based on those shipper accounts who post updates on their fav couples. Might make this into a series if anyone wants more… in the meantime feedback is appreciated and requests are open!
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ynusername some of my favorite bts moments while filming tbosas
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user1 yn giving us more bts content!!!
user2 loved the movie you and Tom have to star in more films together
↳ user3 ikr I love their chemistry
↳ user4 need them in a romcom after seeing tbosas
↳ ynusername a romcom you say? I’m down if @tomblyth is… 👀
↳ user4 OMG NOT HER TAGGING HIM?!? @tomblyth make it happen
rachelzegler 🖤🖤🖤
user5 look how close they are in the second pic I can’t help but ship them
↳ user2 I’ve been shipping them before the movie even came out
↳ rachelzegler I took that one when they weren’t looking sorry not sorry
↳ user1 thank you @rachelzegler for feeding us yn x tom crumbs
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tomblythupdates Tom and YN spotted hanging out in New York this weekend
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user1 they’ve been hanging out a lot lately… 👀
↳ user2 looks like their on a date to me
user3 never seen Tom hang out this much with any cast member besides Rachel and Josh
↳ tomblythupdates a fan said Rachel and Josh were there too
↳ user2 so they were on a double date… interesting
↳ user3 lets not speculate anything yet they could still be friends
↳ user6 I was there and they didn’t look like friends to me… that’s all I’m gonna say
↳ user1 omg spill the tea please
↳ user3 let’s respect their privacy even if they are or aren’t dating we should still be happy for them
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yntomsources New pictures of @tomblyth and @ynusername from their photoshoot
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user1 they ate and left no crumbs
user4 omg look at my parents
user2 can we talk about the HAND PLACEMENT HELLO?!?
user5 here I thought they couldn’t get any hotter but this changed my mind
antitomyn I’m sure this is just a PR stunt to promote the film they can stop pretending now
↳ user1 imagine being jealous of Tom and YN couldn’t be me ☕️
↳ user2 even if you don’t ship them together have some respect for their work as actors not everything is PR
↳ user4 you can’t fake what they have
↳ yntomsources @antitomyn you have been blocked
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tomblyth happy to know I’m not the only one who enjoys croissants on set @ynusername
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user4 now Tom has someone to share his croissant pain with
user1 @tomblyth add her to the croissanicles
↳ tomblyth already did
user2 I feel like Tom got her hooked on croissants and now they’re her favorite
↳ ynusername your right I blame him for my croissant addiction
rachelzegler save me and Josh some this time please
↳user4 this time?!? what happened last time?
↳ ynusername Tom almost dropped them all last time
↳ user4 it’s giving “you almost made me drop my croissant” vibes
↳ rachelzegler 😆😆😆
user5 Seeing Tom and YN together butters my croissant
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readychilledwine · 6 months
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hi, would it he okay to request one where it’s reader x azriel and they’ve been struggling with fertility/getting pregnant. And after a while reader finds out she’s not only pregnant but with triplets😭😭 and they’re all crying happy tears together sith the ic and celebrate😭😍
I was struggling with fertility and finally got pregnant after so long and I couldn’t be happier, so seeing dad az would be so amazing, but I read ur latest post so if it’s a lot then please feel free to ignore ❤️❤️
No. This is perfect. I can do this. 💙💙
Azriel Week Day 6 Prompt - Past and Future - Threefold
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Summary - After years of trying and unsuccessful attempts, you and Azriel finally receive everything you've asked and prayed for threefold.
Warnings - high-risk pregnancy, labor (nothing graphic), babies, illusions to miscarriages, inferred toll of pregnancy on mental health (its hard.)
A/n - this fit too perfectly for @azrielappreciationweek dad Az is my favorite to write as a father simply because his inner child deserves to heal 💜
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Madja and Rhys held your upper body as another bout of sickness ripped through your stomach. You hadn't felt right for several days now. You were exhausted and irritable, and lately, nothing has stayed down.
Rhys pulled your hair back, rubbing small circles into your back. "I can call for Azriel, y/n," he offered again. "He's only doing some follow up things in Windhaven. There are no new issues."
Madja looked at the High Lord. Calling for him silently in her mind. It was clear to the healer what was going on, and she wanted you on bed arrest immediately. You and Azriel had been trying and struggling to have a babe for years. She inclined her head to Rhys, motioning for him to follow her.
"She's pregnant," she boldly said. "The scent is faint, meaning it's early, but her morning sickness indicates multiples." Rhysand's face fell, joy, happiness, fear, sadness all washing over him. You and Azriel were the last of the circle without children.
He and Feyre had 4, Cassian and Nesta had 2, Lucien and Elain had 2. Even Mor and Armen had adopted children. But you and Azriel? You had been trying for years now, and unsuccessful attempt after attempt had led to you two in long fights, heartache, and emotional turmoil.
"Were they even trying?"
Madja nodded at the question. "We tried one last alternative method. It was very painful for her. That's why I need you to command her to bedrest, Rhysand. For them."
The High Lord reentered the bathroom, gently picking you up after you finished brushing your teeth and began the pathway to your room. "You're done working for today. I'm calling for Azriel." Madja opened the door for him, watching as he gently set you down on the soft sheets and blankets you had already started subconsciously nesting with. "You will not leave this bed unless one of us is here with you."
The Riverhouse set food and water on the table, indicatine needed you needed to eat. "Madja, what's going on?"
The old healer looked at you. "I'll be able to give you a better answer once Azriel is here and I examine you."
Azriel flew hard. Not wanting to be away a single second longer after Rhysand's urgent message. He landed with a thud, and instantly went into Rhysand's office where he and Cassian sat in silence. "Where is she? What's wrong?"
Rhys motioned for him to sit and Cassian handed him the whiskey he was nursing. Rhys sighed, "She's pregnant. Madja thinks there's multiple. You're both done. You will distribute your missions until further notice and stay with your mate." Rhys paused as Azriel threw back the expensive whiskey. "Madja is with her and waiting for you for the exam."
You were laid back, Azriel holding your soft hand in his scarred ones near his mouth as he kissed each knuckle. Madja was glowing, hands over your abdomen. You watched her mouth twitch and Rhysand stop pacing in the corner before he started to just laugh. "You are indeed pregnant, my dear. With three healthy developing children. Maybe 6 weeks." Azriel's face fell first, looking at Rhysand in panic. "I will leave you two with your High Lord. He is aware of my opinion given your history." Madja left the from gracefully, a firm smile cemented on her face as she walked into the hallway where the Inner Circle waited.
Rhysand moved to the foot of the bed, leaned on the post as he looked between you and Azriel. "You're on bed rest. You will not leave this bed or go anywhere alone. No training. No long walks. No long trips into town. We," he motioned between himself and Azriel, "will set the nursery. You, my dearest y/n, will no longer lift a damn finger." Azriel had not moved, his eyes locked on you. Rhys took the silent message, leaving the room as Azriel moved onto the bed with you, his mouth immediately on yours as that dam broke and tears began to fall.
"3?" He asked in shock, a hand going to your stomach. "And 6 weeks? You're already to where-"
"I know," you interrupted softly. "If we can make it 2 more weeks, it'll be the furthest we've made it." Azriel's hand tilted your head to his, and he kissed you softly.
Azriel paused. "Rhys is asking Madja if she'd be willing to stay here with her own chambers. They're also all setting up a rotation to ensure one of them is always with us."
You nodded, hand going over his to rest on your stomach. "3."
"3," he whispered back.
6 weeks passed without complications. At, 12 weeks and you were halfway to that safe period Madja had promised. The healer had her hand over your stomach, glowing in her magic and happiness.
"Such healthy little heartbeats." You felt Azriel's body language relax and his hand gently squeeze yours. "Everything looks very healthy so far. I will not lift the bedrest, though."
You looked at Azriel, silently pleading for him to advocate for you and were met with a soft apologetic gaze. "No," he commanded softly. "You stay here. I stay here. We stay here." House arrest, bed rest, that was the only issue so far. You were used to your work, to running daily, to anything but this. Madja left with a small smile as Azriel whispered thank you, and you began to cry. "I know, my love-"
"No you don't. You do not know what it's like to be trapped here. I can't even go outside without Rhys or Cassian appearing out of fucking no where. I miss the sun, the grass." You took a deep breath. "I am confined to this house and it's many walls for the well being of our babies. I understand that, but what about my well being, Azriel? What about my mental health?"
Azriel looked down, your normally selfless mate. "I'm sorry, y/n, but until I know something as simple as laying in the sun won't hurt them, I will support you being in the home, maintaining low stress levels. I will see if I can find a compromise. Perhaps an atrium? I know you've always wanted one."
You woke up to that the very next day, Azriel, Rhys, Lucien, and Cassian were all shirtless with other workers. A room facing your favorite garden had been wrecked, the furniture all moved. They had started at sunrise and at nightfall it stopped. Between magic, skills, and your husband refusing a break, you had a skylit atrium. Rhysand moved to you, covered in dirt and sweat, tilting your chin to place a small kiss on your temple, then Cassian, then Lucien, the last leaving his hand ok your already large stomach for a little while with a happy smile.
Azriel was moving the furniture back, shadows assisting every step of the way. He finally entered the room, lifting you gently from the chair you were reading in, and placing you in the lounging couch he had moved into the full glass room.
"Az-"
"I love you," he interrupted. "And I'm sorry you're having to make this sacrifice for us and our family, but please know I love you. Please know I am just worried. We've lost so much, too many already. Please, y/n, meet me here. Let this be our common ground until Madja says otherwise."
You had no choice but to nod, eyes locked on the beautiful night sky you had not seen in what felt like months. "I'm hungry." Azriel smiled at the statement. His eyes lit up as he felt your gentle caving down the bond. "Could you perhaps bathe and feed me? Maybe out here?" Azriel nodded, pulling you into a deep kiss.
Before you blinked, your third trimester was half way over, and suddenly bedrest was all you could think about. You were uncomfortable, large, constantly feeling as if the babes were using you as a personal playground. You and the Twins were in the kitchen when it happened, tight pain shot through your stomach and wetness came, your hand flew to Cerridwen and she supported you immediately, screaming for Madja as she moved you to sit.
The next several hours blurred together. Rhysand appearing and having Cassian help him carry you to a tub per Madja's request. Him holding your mind as he apologized over and over.
It made sense that this was happening now. The one time there was a mission that required Azriel. The one time he was in the Mortal Lands, having to spy on the Queen furthest from your home. Rhysand held your hand through the process, Cassian helping support your body as every inch of you felt like giving up and going out.
Until that first scream came. That first wail of life. That first tiny little body handled to one of the twins, small perfect wings intact. "Push, y/n," Rhys whispered softly. "They need their siblings." It could have been but moments, possibly hours. You didn't know. But a second cry came followed by the door slamming open and Azriel running to your side, allowing Rhysand to move and help with the babes.
"I'm so sorry," you kept saying, guilt hitting you at his bittersweet joy of missing two of the babes being born. "I-"
"It's okay. I'm here for this one." Azriel kissed your temple. "Two have wings, my love. You are doing so well."
The third cry came soon after, your body wanting to be done before finally giving out as Azriel and Cassian waited for Madja to heal you the best she could. She nodded and they removed you from the tub, body absolute done as you rested in Azriel's chest.
Cassian had gone to the babes, his excitement too heavy. Soon the whole Inner Circle and Nyx sat in the room, waiting for Madja to begin the announcements. She walked one of the babies to you, "First Born, winged, healthy weight for a triplet. Boy." Azriel stilled, his grip on your hand tightening.
Rhys walked the second over, a familiar soft look in his eyes, "Second born, winged, also healthy and hungry. Boy."
Cassian was sobbing holding his little bundle, looking at Azriel and then nodding. Your mate's dam broke, handing you the two sons instantly and reaching for the baby Cassian had. "Third born. Wingless for now, we all know that won't be the case forever, though. A little smaller than Madja would like. Girl."
Azriel held her close, his eyes locked on her perfect little face as tears fell. "You promised," he reminded you gently. You were too busy, admiring your boys to even respond. They were holding hands, both searching for their sister. "Y/n."
You broke your stare, brows knit in confusion. "They're your lineage, Azriel. You know you have last say in their names." Madja and the Inner Circle now stood closer as Azriel studied the babes one by one, never letting go of his daughter.
"Ophelia," he handed her gently to you. "After my mother." He took one of the boys, stroking his little cheek softly. He was holding the second born, who was wearing a serious pout. The was the largest of the three, little wings trying to stretch already on his back. "Ramiel. Because I have a gut feeling." Nyx laughed gently, silently asking to take his cousin and get him situated for a bottle. Azriel gave him to his nephew, a look of warning on his face. He took the oldest, who immediately took a scarred finger into his tiny hands. "Opinions, love," he asked you before realizing you were feeding your daughter. "She just decided to latch on there, huh?"
"Pretty much," you looked at your oldest son, the second smallest. Face all smiles. "Arnan," you looked to Armen. "After his aunt who found the method that brought them into the world." She was at Azriel's side immediately, taking the babe from him without him even putting up a fight.
*3 months later*
You and Azriel sat in the nursery. The boys in his arms, feeding softly from bottles, your daughter in yours breastfeeding. Figuring out a schedule to ensure all of them breastfed once or twice a day had been difficult but the routine was easy now. Ophelia slept best through the night after skin to skin and breastfeeding. Arnan was less fussy in the mornings when his breakfast came directly from you. Ramiel napped better after an afternoon breast feeding. "They're holding their heads up so well," Azriel cooed. "My strong boys." He was a male obsessed and in love. He was frequently out your shared bed at night, and you'd find him, sleeping with all three of them on his broad bare chest in the nursery. He was the perfect father despite not having an example of how to be one.
"I think our sweet girl will get there soon," you kept watch on her, holding her little hand as she reached for you. "We're just a Danity little thing, though so Heaven forbid daddy has to carry and coddle us more." You teased them both as Azriel's jaw dropped.
"I can't help it, love. Look at her, look at those eyes, that nose, her little smile. I'll carry her to Spring and back by foot." He stood, burping both of the boys and laid them in their cribs before coming to sit in front of his girl. "I want her when you're done."
"You say that until they poop."
"They're so warm and happy after breastfeedings, y/n." He watched as she unlatched by choice, reaching for her father's familiar voice and he took her. "And her belly is all full. And she's so happy. My little star. The perfect ending to our family's constellation." He walked her to her crib, continuing to coo her. "All of my little stars," he turned their mobiles on, watching as they all slowly shut their eyes and then walked to you.
He left the door open a crack, escorting you to your adjoining bedroom. Once inside he kissed you, thumbs stroking your cheekbones as he did, and rested his forehead against yours. "I love you."
"I love you too. Let's go to bed. Please. They hardly napped at all today. Nyx got them that damn toy and I am still deciding if our nephew gets to live." Azriel laughed quietly, moving to the bed with a hand holding yours. "Perhaps tonight you could stay here."
He paused, staring at you as he pulled the blanket over you two. "I don't know what you're talking about." His cheeks were slightly flushed. "I always stay the night here."
You kissed his hand. "Of course you do, Azzie. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, y/n."
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desmorotu · 1 month
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more redacted headcanons!!!
some might be angsty? most of them?
꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ
- i saw a hc where milo isn’t necessarily short, but the other guys are just unbelievably tall. in my head milo is 5’11, ash is 6’5, and david is 6’9. tank is the only one who looks deceiving bc they’re like 5’10 in my head but their wolf is as big as david’s. ppl from the outside make the joke that shaw security is secretly a tall person club
- guy was a music major before he switched to writing. i mentioned it in his playlist post but i get those vibes HARD. he also writes honey poetry because he knows they secretly like it
- i like the idea that darlin and angel came from a rough family upbringing because 1. it’s relatable to a lot of ppl and 2. it would explain why tank shoves themselves into harms way and why angel is so outgoing now. it shows different responses to trauma imo.
- babe sometimes has crippling panic attacks on the thought of angel being a latent empowered and leaving them alone as the unempowered person of the group, but in my mind babe is the latent one and they’re a fire elemental.
- sweetheart feels guilty sometimes for being empowered while the other mates aren’t. they know it has absolutely nothing to do with them and that they can’t do anything about it, but sometimes they feel a pang in their heart at the fact that the other two won’t feel their core swell and warm up when looking at their mates.
- starlight has night terrors about the time they fell down—both times. they also think about when avior fell and they can’t help but intrusively picture what he looked like when he finally landed. it makes them physically ill. avior has to be extra careful when talking back about their experiences sometimes.
- lovely is still goes to therapy every week to work through the trauma of adam, dying, and now they’ve added the summit on top of that. they’re withering away into a husk of themselves. they’re so exhausted with dealing with all of this pressure, but they’d do anything for vincent (and i think that’s going to be their downfall).
- gavin has been brought to tears on multiple occasions at the thought that freelancer loves him for him and not just because he’s an incubus. he’s had to muffle his sobs because he genuinely does not know how he deserved someone so loving. he hasn’t brought it up to them yet.
- i think that freelancer is on the ace spectrum (greysexual maybe?) and that gavin was the only person they’ve ever really had sex with, or wanted to have sex with. they trusted him enough to “show them the ropes” and he built their confidence to where it is now. gavin helped build their relationship with sex and while they’re still on the spectrum, they’re more positive about it and they enjoy that kind of intimacy with him.
꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ
that’s all that i can squeeze out of my brain rn >:( i haven’t been on tumblr that much and UGH it’s just bc my real life is more interesting than my redacted life (which is a very good thing, but still it makes me sad) and i have no motivation to post 💔 but here are some hcs that have been on my mind lately :3 i hope they make sense
k byeee 💟
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kakiastro · 9 months
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Who’s your Future Spouse ? Detailed 18+ reading
Hey y’all! It’s been so long since I made a intuitive post but I’m back! This reading is all about who you are going to marry or just be in a committed relationship with.
Disclaimer: please know that this is just a general reading and for entertainment purposes only. We all have free will so take what resonates and leave the rest.
Now take 3 deep breaths. Pick which animal you feel called too. If it’s more than one then that’s okay.
🦌🐅🐘
🦌
Physically: deep round light brown or hazel eyes(prominent feature) have a youthful face. Small build, lightweight muscular, light brown shaggy hair and beard. Big smile, there’s something noticeable about their hands so it can be a tattoo, a scar or birth mark. Wears casual clothes especially sweaters
Personality: chilled laid back person. They’re more on the introvert side but loves to talk once they’re comfortable with you. I feel like their low key nerdy, like for example,you wouldn’t expect them to be huge Star Wars nerds first talking them until they reveal they own collectibles😅. I wouldn’t call this person a stoner per say but they don’t mind hitting a blunt every once in a blue moon😅they also love nature and I’m seeing a hiking bag so they could have an adventure side to them as well. I feel like some of you all are interested in astrology and they’re going to love hearing you teach them about it. Im hearing they love Greek mythology. This person loves learning things as well. They’re readers. This person gives me Taurus and Gemini vibes. They love food especially street food. They’re not confrontational but they will step up if need be “I’m not with the drama but don’t get it twisted, I got these hands.” Is what I heard. If you ever seen the tv show euphoria, your person reminds me of Fez a little bit lol.
Career hobbies: im hearing they love jogging or running. They love to paint as well. Im hearing they don’t have career per say but they do have ambitions. Im hearing freelance or one day owning some type of business (im seeing a gym) I do want to point out that this is the current energy they are in so when you 2 actually meet, they may be established in their chosen field
Sexually: very sensual in bed, they love the late night cuddles and conversations after y’all have sex. They don’t mind doing it whenever but at the same time they’re not in a rush either. Very chilled person like I said. they have a nice butt. If you’re interested in men then their 🍆 is long and slightly curved. If your interested in woman, they may have some hair down there
Astrological: Mercury, Taurus, Gemini, some Sagittarius as well
Letters: D, M, L, Y (First, Middle, Last name) or nick name
Overall your person sounds dope too me deer pile, I hope you enjoyed your reading
🐅
Physically: fine as hell! intimidating look at first. May have resting bitch face😅 I’m hearing covered in tattoos, they love tribal and quote type of tattoos. They have an intense stare, they can see your soul type of stare. They’re tall and muscular, they take care of their body. They have deep dimples that you can see when they’re talking. They’re very confident but not arrogant with it. Here’s the the thing, they’re attractive and they know it😅 they dress nice and love to wear suites or athletic wear. Classy gentleman vibes. They have dark brown panther type eyes, google panther eyes and that’s how your Fs stares at you🔥clean cut hair but when it grows out, it’s really curly. They’re not really a smiley type person but when they do, their smile lights up a room.
Personality: “all my life I’ve had to fight” is what I heard. I’m going to be honest here and say that y’all Fs has been through some traumatic things in their life!! This is why they carry this tough, intimidating persona, it’s a defense mechanism. The have a hard time opening up to people due to past betrayals especially with lovers. The good news is that they’ve been working on some healing. I do feel like when they meet you, they’re going to really start taking their healing seriously because they want to be the best person they can be for you🥹they’re very protective of loved ones as well not just physically but emotionally as well. “If someone hurts you, then I’m hurting them real talk” is what I heard. Your person sort of reminds me of Jax Teller from sons of anarchy. The bad boy /bad girl with heart of gold type of vibe. They’re big romantics as well, loves date nights and very funny. Sort of a jokester (especially dirty jokes)
Career/hobbies: they love working out, playing cards, camping, traveling is a big one Im seeing. They’re very proud of their family roots; I’m hearing Italian descent. So they may love traveling their family ancestral place. For career, they work in some corporate type of work. Hence why their wearing suits a lot lol. I’m hearing entrepreneurs so they may own a business. They love this type of work because it’s competitive and they’re competitive lol
Sexually: Whew Chile!! I hope you guys have lots of stamina because this person is very sexual omg! Your Fs works a lot so when they do have time for you they want to do everything with and too you. Now I’m blushing🫣 they’re open to do all positions. They’re favorite is missionary, not because they’re boring but because they want to look you deep in your eyes while they’re in you👀, they trying to snatch your soul and you’re going to let them. I heard “Make you lose your breath with each stroke” There’s a deep spiritual connection between you 2 so the sex is fire and otherworldly. They love to go down on you as well. If you’re interested in men/masc then they have a big 🍆, if you’re interested in women (fem) then they have nice breast.
Astrological: Mars, Aries, Capricorn with some Libra energy
Letters; T, V, D, B (first, middle, last name) or nickname
Well that was hot pile 2, I need a drink of water after that😂 I hope you enjoyed it tigers
🐘
Physically: I’m hearing this person has a very gentle aura about them. They feel like a warm fireplace with hot cocoa during a winter storm. I feel so relaxed. They’re medium height. Pillsbury doughboy just came to my head so they might be on fluffy side which is good for cuddling. Round face and brown curly hair and beard. Watery blue eyes, they may wear glasses(im not sure if it’s for reading or everyday use) big hands and feet😜, they love to wear sports jerseys. They have dimples and you can really see them when they laugh. They also have rosey cheeks and they blush a lot
Personality: this person is very shy, I’m having a hard time picking things up about them because they’re so hesitant. They may have been bullied growing up so it’s hard to open for them.🥹 They’re very much homebodies but don’t mind going out every now and then. They’re very much in a bubble and only those that’s in this bubble with them can see their true personality. I am hearing that they love watching and discussing movies. They’re great listeners. They’re more of a listener than a talker but they will carry a convo with you. They love their family, especially their mom. Very protective over them. Their a very family oriented person. Im sorry y’all, I’m not getting much here, their very private person.
Career/hobbies:watching and discussing movies, loves to cook (that was a big thing I received from y’all Fs) , watching sports. For career Im hardly getting jack squat😅Im only picking up on writer so they could be that
Sexually; very emotional connection when having sex. They’re pleasures rather than receivers. Your Fs sees sex as a bonding experience more than just a “hey let’s have sex” type of way if that makes sense. I’m not going to go furthur because they’re so private and shy compared to the other piles. I want to respect that. I’m hearing “I promise I’ll do my best to make sure they’re pleased.”
Astrological : Moon and Venus. Cancer, Pisces Aquarius and some taurus energy
Letters: B,R,A, D, H (first, middle, last name) or nickname
Hey I hope you all enjoyed my post ! Make sure to follow and share my content if you want to see more. Thank you!
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sinsinsininning · 3 months
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First time sending a request😭 could I get a post time skip strawhat crews reaction to a reader who’s late to reunite with them, and turns out they were in Impel down but escaped?
Like they’re wondering where they are and Nami busts in showing an article in the newspaper about reader escaping?
Srry if this is confusing💀
Ay yo! My first request, Tumblr deleted my first draft of this so it’s a little rushed now sorry. I wrote this as more platonic but tbh it could be viewed as romantic with some characters if you really want to. I also wrote this with a gender neutral reader in mind and they/them pronouns. I made the reader kind of an explosion person just to justify some parts of the story.
This is very different from what I normally write so it was a great exercise! I hope you enjoy! ✨✨✨
~~~~
You were late.
It wasn’t out of the ordinary, just like Zoro was guaranteed to get lost and Luffy to eat all the food in sight, you were the perpetually late straw hat. It was basically your title at this point.
This was different though, the crew was gathering after being separated for 2 years and with the marines and enemy pirates closing in, it wasn’t the day for you to be behind schedule. Still the crew awaited you until the last moment, as they set off the allies they’d made while training came through to clear a path.
And you still weren’t here.
“Where are they?” Nami glared at the horizen, willing you to appear, the anger in her tone barely hid her worry.
“I’m not surprised, they’re always showing up last minute.” Ussop groused, folding his arms haughtily. “This time it’s gonna bite them in the ass and they’ll be left behind!”
“Don’t say that!” Chopper cried, trying to pull on Ussop’s arms to uncross them. As if that’d make you magically appear. “They’ll be here! They’re always here when it counts!” His tears fluster the sniper who turned away from him to hide it.
Nami and Chopper started arguing, slowly dividing the crew into two teams. Team ‘They’ll be here, have Faith’ and Team ‘They’ll get left out, get over it’. Sanji sided with Ussop and Nami because of course he’d side with her. While Brook and Franky sided with the optimistic Chopper, certain you’d arrive.
It was loud and a little annoying, but it kept the crew occupied for a while. At least enough to stop them from over hearing their Captain and First Mate.
“Captain.” Zoro said lowly, watching the others argue about your absence. “We have to keep going. We can’t wait much longer.” Luffy had a serious face for once, odd for Zoro to see.
“I’m not waiting, they’ll get here. I have no doubts they’ll be back.” He said with finality, his voice had gotten much deeper over the 2 year break. Zoro frowned, his faith in you not as solid as his Captain’s.
Robin approached her leaders, holding some papers out for Zoro to read.
“I only just had a moment to read these,” She said. “Shaky and Rayleigh gave them to me as we departed. I’m afraid our friend may be out of luck.”
Zoro gasped as he read, Luffy snatched the papers away to scan them quickly. The startled cry he let out was stifled by one of Robin’s many hands, appearing at the right time. The top page was your mugshot, grinning wildly at the camera while holding your inmate card. Other pages contain your latest bounty, some newspaper clippings of your crimes and capture, as well as some convoluted court documents. Zoro snatched the papers back, trying to make sense of everything.
“They’re in Impel Down? When?” He hissed.
“I’m not sure, it looks like they’ve been there nearly the entire 2 years we’ve been gone.”
“I was there though!” Luffy stretches his mouth from behind Robin’s hand. “I could’ve helped them!”
“It’s a large prison, Luffy. Plus who knows they may have been arrested after your jail break.” Robin tried to comfort him. “I’m sorry, but we can’t turn back now. The way back is blocked by the marines, we should go forward and figure out a plan when we arrive in the New World.” Luffy shook his head with a glare.
“No way, we can’t leave them for a second longer!” His shouting catches the crew’s attention, Robin and Zoro sigh before the green haired man tosses them the papers. “I’ve escaped the Impel Down once and I’ll do it again.”
As the crew root through the papers, crying out in worry at the contents. Luffy turns back towards Saboady, tips his hat back slightly to evaluate the scene behind him. The shouting of his crew and Zoro’s begs for practicality become background noise as he focuses on the carnage they’ll be returning to.
A glimmer on the horizen catches his eye, it’s an explosion. But unlike the others raging on, it seems to glow. He watches it for a moment, distracted by the unusual colors, it reminds him of what you usually wear, the same hue and intensity. He points to the spot, just as it fades another one just like it replaces it, only closer.
“Hey look.” He laughs, Zoro growls and whaps him on the head.
“Hey were you even listening?”
“Nah.” Luffy is at least honest, but his pointing has caught Robin’s attention as well.
“That’s strange, who could be causing that?” She asks and the rest of the crew gather as the dazzling explosions grow closer and closer. Like condensed fireworks.
“I bet it’s them!” Chopper cries out, gripping Robin’s skirt to dry his tears.
“No way, they’re in the worst prison ever! Even Luffy needed help escaping it and he has devil fruit powers!” Ussop argued, but his grip on the railing tightened.
“Whatever it is, it’s coming straight for us!” Sanji warns, shoving himself in front of Nami and Robin.
“He’s right!” Robin shouts as the explosions get closer, becoming larger and more deafening. “Everyone brace for a hit!”
As the crew tense for a strike, Zoro drawing 2 of his swords, Sanji preparing to jump, Chopper growing in size. The spectacular colors sail over them in a chaotic arc.
“Did…did it miss?” Zoro asked, stunned at the blooming display of colors and glitter fallout.
Just as he spoke, the crackling ball of hues lands on the lion head of the Sunny. Several crew members leap forward to strike the intruder, but as the illuminations die away, you stand up.
“You’re here!” Chopper cries again, rushing forward to hug you tightly. Franky and Nami rush to join him.
“Aw don’t tell me y’all were worried!” You grin.
You get passed around from crewmate to crewmate as everyone gets their greeting in. Nami holds your face to her chest as she exclaims her relief. Franky tries to show off his new hair before you’re yanked away. Sanji holds you to his chest as he tells you not to creep on his Nami-Swan. Brook cries out tears -somehow?- and begins strumming his guitar for you. Robin gently cradles your red face as she expresses her gratitude for your arrival. Ussop shakes you vigorously for scaring him both by your lateness and your latest -loudest- entrance. Chopper holds tightly to your back the entire time.
Finally you get deposited in front of Zoro and Luffy, who both grin down at you. Chopper is pulled off your back by Robin, finally. You leap up and hold onto both men’s necks as you cheer.
“Did you miss me?”
Luffy hugs you back even tighter and Zoro doesn’t struggle out of your affection for once.
“What the hell happened for you to end up at Impel Down?” Zoro asked as you let go of him to hold a sniffling Chopper once more.
“The warlord guy sent me to a small jail somewhere off the coast of Thriller Bark. I escaped and attempted to return to Saboady, but along the way I got captured by some human traffickers.” You began, rocking Chopper gently now as the crew gathered around you to listen. “On the boat in my cell I managed to make some bombs and break free.”
“Of course you did, you could make bombs outta toothpaste and sunflower seeds.” Ussop interrupted, a little jealous at your longstanding demolition prowess.
“Anyways, me and the other prisons staged a mutiny of the ship, but the captain intentionally crashed it so that we’d be trapped. The idiot didn’t realize it was on the shores of the worlds securest prison. So I got arrested with them since they recognized me and knew I had a bounty.” You laughed despite how horrified your crew seemed.
“When were you there?” Luffy asked, eyes intense as he watched you.
“Sorry Cap’.” You grin. “I was there a few weeks after you’d already escaped. Wish we could’ve busted out together, it would’ve been cool as hell.” He relaxed a bit, feeling less guilty about your imprisonment.
“Why didn’t you escape then?” Nami asked.
“It’s not so simple, honestly it takes a lot of luck and teamwork to manage that. After Luffy broke out, security increased a lot, at least from what I was told. I tried to stage an escape, but I’m not as charming as our captain so I didn’t get a lot of traction.” You continued.
“Heh sorry bout that.” Luffy grinned sheepishly.
“Not your fault, I guess I’m not a people person.”
“I could’ve told you that.” Ussop threw a loose screw at you, until Nami smacked his head with a scowl.
“Leave them alone!”
“So how did you manage to escape?” Robin asked. “And how were you able to fly in those explosions?”
“After my failed escape attempts, I got sent lower and lower in the jail until I was in level 5. Then I met up with Bentham!” You shouted.
“What?”
“Really?”
“That guy was in Impel Down?”
You basked in their reactions for moment until you glanced at your captain.
“He’s alive?” Luffy asked.
“Yup, told me to tell you hi.” You smirked, Luffy looked so relieved. “I’d gotten your message by then and was desperate to get stronger. He took me in as my mentor and trained with me. As for my escape, it’s a long story, but let’s just say I managed to make friends with the Jailer Beasts.”
“Woah! Really?!” Luffy was shocked, he’d never thought to try.
“Yup they and Bentham helped me escape. He stayed behind since he’s the new Queen after Ivan left, but he certainly helped me learn how to make a grand entrance.” You posed goofily, while your crew laughed.
“And the flying in sparkles?” Sanji asked.
“Technically not flying,” You said as you unbuckled your belt and thigh harness. There were several pouches there that were filled with sparkling little orbs, the same color as your explosions. “These are something I made by accident, I call them Star Tracers! If you crack the outer coating it creates a large explosion, but in the center it becomes very dense almost like a small stepping stone before it disintegrates completely. So I crack one, then throw it and jump into the cloud of sparkles and land on the step before repeating the process.”
“Wooooooah,” Ussop’s eyes sparkled at your invention. “How’d you manage that?”
“Not sure honestly, I think it’s a chemical reaction to the materials I use, but they’re all pretty common so it was easy to make a bunch. The steps are only tangible for a few moments, so I had to improve my speed, that’s why it looks like I’m flying.” You shrug and let Ussop look over the marbles as the crew starts excitedly speaking.
As the day starts to end and you’re sitting on the head of the Sunny, watching the water around you. Luffy slowly walks up to join you, sitting practically on top of you. The two of you sit for a while in silence, comforting silence after such a crazy day.
“Thanks for waiting for me.” You say sincerely, smiling as he starts to protest, then quiets himself.
“How’d you know I did?” Luffy asked, he’d tried to be subtle, but his worry for you had made him slow their escape.
“Come on, like you’d leave me behind.” You give him a side hug, letting him rest his head on your shoulder. “Plus I remember when you literally launched us out to sea once, you were waaaaaay to slow making your escape today. It was obvious.”
You both laugh as the water grows dark around you, ready for the next day.
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reveluving · 4 months
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mother knows best ; phillip graves x reader x jeff sadecki
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summary: mama knows love when she sees one. or three. 
warnings: mostly Phil & Jeff’s mom’s POV, mentions of angst (teen!Jeff cheating but not on you, family fights, parents passing away), very tiny allusions to s~mut (minors DNI!), loads of fluff towards the end, Mama Denise is yours and her boys’ number one fan 🩷
a/n: thought I’d use this chance to write this after this ask! this is based on this lil' post! I know Jeff’s mom is named Linda but this is about him and Phil, a.k.a. my mind, so say hello to Mama Denise! pls don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ
» interested in more of the series? find it here & here!
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Denise Baker has always been a sweet lady. The epitome of a Southern’s hospitality. Married twice, first to a man named Danny Sadecki, then the second being Tom Graves after Danny passed away. They were good people. The best, feeling grateful each day for giving her the best gifts a hopeful mother could ever ask for. 
Two amazing boys. 
Keeping their last names rather than changing them to her maiden name was instinctive. At a one-year-plus age gap, Phil took after his mother’s Southern twang whereas Jeff followed his stepfather’s general American accent. They grew to be one happy family, and the brothers, despite their differences in interests and personality, would fight tooth and nail for one another.
But since Tom’s passing, the boys have been less lively, and understandably so. No matter how well they hid their sadness behind innocent smiles each time their mother was in the room, she could see right through them. She didn’t know what she did to earn such sweet boys, always attentive to their Mama at a young age, but she had always hoped to see the fire in them return someday.
That was until they met you. 
You and Phil were the same age, just beginning middle school with his brother somewhere a little further from the Bakers’ than the town’s high school.
The brothers had been waiting for their mother to pick them up when you slid next to Phil in the waiting chair. It was raining cats and dogs in Wiskayok, so you had to squeeze yourself into the bus stop to avoid getting drenched.
“Sorry,” You squeaked with a guilty smile when your shoulders touched.
Phil was beyond the age of believing in cooties, plus, he and Jeff were a mama’s boy, and she didn’t raise a woman (girl?)-hater. 
“S’okay.” His smile was half-hearted, a little miffed that he couldn’t get to the stand in time when it began raining, and at this point, Jeff had noticed your sudden presence. They’ve seen you before, especially Phil. You always sat in front of him in class, mostly seen with full of life and blinding smile with a missing tooth. 
“Your mom’s coming late, too?” Phil knew he didn’t have to make the conversation any longer than he’d like, but he had no reason to do that with you. You were so… nice, and yet, so respectful. Always giving him a wave instead of barging into his personal space bubble like a lot of his classmates did.
Plus, his mother was already thirty minutes late, what was there to lose?
“Yeah. My brother and I have been waitin’ for a lil’ while,” He replied with a shrug, pausing for a second before asking, “You?”
“Yeah, same,” You responded, though more lighthearted than he was, kicking your feet as you looked at the road, “It’s okay, though. Mom’s always busy. They’re probably tired. So long I’m not alone here, I’m not scared to wait for my mom.”
There you go, with your smile again. Phil couldn’t help but smile back, it was tiny but you could see the slight quirk of his lips. Jeff, too, found your positivity infectious and had been listening.
He had joined in on the conversation moments after. It was fairly light, with Jeff doing most of the talking, but that didn’t mean Phil wasn’t listening and chiming in once in a while. It wasn’t until fifteen minutes later when Denise came, rushing over to her boys with an umbrella and endless apologies. 
You were ready to say goodbye to the two and resume waiting on your own when Denise approached you with a motherly look. 
“Hi, darlin,” She crouched in front of you, with Jeff and Phil at a perfect height as they stood under her umbrella, “I’m Denise, Jeffrey and Phillip’s mama. What’s your name?”
You were a lot shyer with her, considering she was an adult, but you trusted her enough with your name since you kinda knew his youngest. 
“That’s a beautiful name,” Even with the heavy rain, her soft-spoken voice was hard to miss, “D’you know when y’mama will come pick you up?”
You shook your head, telling her that with your mother working at a busy cafe, it could vary. And like you told the boys, you were alright with waiting rather than daring to walk home since the bus stop was always full. Still, Denise, ever the kind-hearted woman, offered to drive you to your mother’s workplace. 
Denise understood that you were wary and good on you for being careful, but to her surprise, Jeff and Phil were nice enough to reassure you. And whether you agreed because of their mother’s gentleness, Jeff’s natural talent to make you feel comfortable with all three of them or even the hint of promise in Phil’s eyes that everything was going to be fine, Denise was glad you did. 
Your mother was extremely thankful, even offered to pay for their lunch for their next visit, but Denise refused and with the two becoming fast friends just as you were with Jeff and Phil, the rest was history.
Though, high school was… eventful, to say the least. While the two of you remained close, almost joined at the hip, you and Phil sometimes preferred backing off as Jeff’s popularity grew. Not that Jeff’s behaviour changed with the two of you, he was still the dorky, good-willed boy you knew.  
Although you and Phil may have fought a little with Jeff when he told you about his cheating on Jackie with Shauna. He broke up with Jackie soon after, but his decision to stay with Shauna may or may not have affected your friendship. You and his brother weren’t too keen on the idea of their own friend/brother being a cheater after all. 
Jeff especially hated it when it rocked what the two of you had. He was dumb enough to think ending up with Shauna or Jackie would make him forget his interest in you, and surprise surprise, it didn’t. The three of you stayed close friends, though he promised never to bring up about Shauna around you or Phil at all.
And then, high school ended. 
Phil’s decision to leave town for the Marines was not only the biggest shock to the neighbourhood but especially to his own family. Not that he didn’t have the means to be one, if anything, his mother and brother knew he’d be one of, if not, the best ones out there. He just never expressed his interest in military work at all. 
Throughout their years as a family, Mama had never seen the two fight so badly until Jeff discovered that Phil had been considering leaving Wiskayok, leaving their mother after they both finished community college. Though their fall-out didn’t last long, no more than two weeks, especially when their mother expressed her worries and sadness over their rocky relationship. 
Plus, Jeff didn’t want what strong bond he had with his brother to end just like that. He cared for his brother too much, and in their moment of vulnerability, he apologized for not doing more in their high school years. When some of his peers saw his little brother as his shadow rather than a person. Phil insisted that he barely cared about them, even flat out said they weren’t necessarily his friends unless it had to do anything with football. 
They hugged it out, and Mama was over the moon. Suddenly, the thought of Phil leaving for the military wasn’t as difficult, knowing that her boys were still going to keep in touch, and on a high note, no less.
He spent his last month in Wiskayok with you and your mother with the most mundane of things. 
But oh, how Mama’s emotions dipped when you, too, left shortly after your mother passed away. 
She couldn’t put it past you for doing so. How could she, when you’ve been nothing but an angel? A one in a million and she’d be damned if she convinced you to stay like a bird in a cage. As much as she and Jeff would love to, insisting that there was something for you in town, but just like with Phil, they didn’t. It was far too selfish of them, and you had so much potential. 
And as thankful as Mama was to have Jeff by her side at all times, there was someone else.
Shauna.
Shauna never sat right with her, no matter how far she was ‘willing’ to go to get to know her future mother-in-law better. Though the smile she brought out of Jeff was nowhere near as big or as wholesome as he was with you, there was a hint of guilt for feeling the way she did. Hoping you’d end up with one of her sons. 
But she wasn’t the only one thinking as such, but Jeff felt that he had lost his chance when you left.
So, he carried himself again to be a better person, especially when he truly believed Shauna was the one, much to his mother’s disbelief. Hell, she’d seen bigger smiles from him when he was with that Jackie girl before they broke up.
But her boy was insistent. 
Maybe, for once, her mother’s intuitions were wrong. 
And as the days went by, the possibility of Jeff putting a ring on Shauna grew higher, Mama did her best to accept her as her own. The two were civil at best, and no doubt that was enough for the two. 
But the years grew dull for the Sadeckis, and the second Jeff came knocking on his mother’s door at two in the morning, his wife not in sight, she knew she should’ve done more to stop what they had. 
It began with petty arguments, with Jeff being the one apologizing to Shauna, despite knowing she was in the wrong or if she began the fight in the first place. Then it became quarrels, something about her nonexistent book club when in reality, she had been meeting up with a man named Adam. 
Each time Mama received a call from her eldest, telling her that he and his wife ‘needed space’, she’d cook up a nice meal and make sure his old room was ready with the amenities he needed.
If it weren’t for Jeff’s attempts to calm his mother down, telling her it wasn’t worth the trouble, she would’ve marched down to Shauna’s front door and knocked some sense into her with a rolling pin. How dare she point her finger at Jeff, attempting to invalidate her own faults by saying it was him who cheated first during their years of marriage, thus, giving her the green light to do the same. 
Although yes, Jeff has done it once, when he cheated on Jackie, he regretted it. Immensely, especially seeing the disappointment in his mother’s face. Oh, how he apologized to her like he had committed the biggest sin of all, and frankly, he did. And though his mother was dismayed by his dishonesty, she knew when any of her boys truly regretted something.
Boy, never has he wished for things to turn out differently and still, he wanted to work things out, when he tried to show his mother what he saw in Shauna.
And she did, but she didn’t see what she or Jeff hoped she’d saw. The final straw was when his wife—his ex-wife disrespected his mother in her own house. He had given her many chances, forgiving her more times than he could count, but he could not stand for her raising her voice at his beloved mother. 
Denise had every right to feel grateful when the divorce happened, but that didn't mean she openly celebrated it in front of her son. But Phil was different, even went as far as having a congratulatory gift sent to their doorstep since he was still on duty. Despite knowing his brother was rolling in dough with his line of work, Jeff couldn’t help but gawk at the gifts, much to his mother’s amusement. A set of cashmere sweaters that probably cost anywhere from half to one grand, complete with a few bottles of fragrances and even one of the finest reds to commemorate the moment. Plus, a personalized rose-gold bracelet for Mama because why wouldn’t he want to spoil her at any given chance?
And though he and his mother did enjoy a few sips after moving back into the Bakers’ house, he couldn’t help but wonder how you were doing.
But he didn’t have to wait for long.
The day you and Phil returned to Wiskayok, standing in front of Mama’s door, she nearly dropped to her knees. Not only has she missed her youngest boy, despite his efforts in calling and texting and visiting in secret each time his deployment ended, but she most certainly missed you, too. It was your first time visiting since the very day you left, after all. Phil didn’t take it to heart when his mother scolded him for not telling her that the two of you were colleagues and maybe were together.
In reality, though, she had a feeling that you were still around. Closer than what you made them believe.
There were days when Phil had a chance to call his mother, and she’d suddenly bring you up. Wondering aloud if you were alright, how life was treating you in God knows where, and somehow, Phil’s confidence in his responses, telling her that he was certain you were doing well, she believed him. Word for word. As if she knew he was with you throughout your journey to find yourself, just like he did.
And she’d be right when the universe reunited you and Phil on the battlefield. When Shadow Company joined forces with 141 and Los Vaqueros, not expecting to find the girl of his dreams amongst the chaos and in those years, you laughed, you smiled, you wept and you released yourself for him and him alone. Finally acknowledging what the two of you were afraid to address as teenagers all those years ago.
Phil couldn’t imagine bringing his walls down for someone other than you and though like with everyone else, he still kept up the proud and almost infuriating act, no one else had the privilege to see the more caring, affectionate side of him except for you.
But Mama wasn't the only one surprised by the revelation.
On the first night of your arrival, Jeff didn't talk much, instead, hanging on to your every word. From the very moment you reached the city alone for the first time, till the very day you carried yourself into your team and reunited with Phil. How you even remembered the gifts you were meaning to give him and their mother in the middle of the conversation. And as the night fell, you insisted on booking a hotel not far from the neighbourhood.
Oh, how Mama has missed the old days when she'd tell you to stay over, making sure to call your mother about your whereabouts. While she wouldn’t dream of replacing your mother, it was understandable how her attentiveness for you has skyrocketed, now that she knew you and his son were coming over much more often. 
Still, she had conditions, eyeing Phil with a knowing look before telling him that you’d be staying in the guestroom. Still spick and span for hopeful days like these. Phil's cheeky smile was worth a thousand words, knowing his mother had caught on to what type of little games the two of you played. Her eye-roll was good-natured, even letting out a hearty laugh when she caught the embarrassed look on your face.
Throughout your stay, she saw how your relationship with Phil blossomed, and how the more-than-friendly feelings between you and Jeff were beginning to rekindle. How her sons’ true emotions—their true colours were showing in that same very house as it always did, as if nothing had changed. Mama knew there was something more to the loving looks they’d give you whenever you looked away.
And when she saw the three of you hanging out and sitting close in the backyard patio, watching the stars and laughing over a stupid stunt one of them had done as kids, she knew that you and her boys were going to be A-ok.
˚ · . f i n . · ˚
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a/n: we love mama denise. ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡
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soulthrifted · 3 months
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Can’t Escape You ↴
About - The reader has been through many relationships and in return has had their heart broken many times in various ways. They fear having their heart broken again, but there is just something so tempting about this Hermes boy. The way he makes them feel. The way he treats them, it’s surreal and like nothing they’ve ever felt. Maybe this time will be different.
Pairing - Luke Castellan/Gn Reader
Warnings - kissing (fluff)
A/N - This is my first time ever posting one of my writings on a social platform so any critic is welcome!! Also, please let me know if there is anything else you’d like to see me write :D
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In a world where heartbreaks were familiar scars, I had found solice in the comforting rhythm of solitude. Yet, there, on the horizon of my guarded heart stood a figure. Luke Castellan. There was just something about him. Something about the way he looked at me. Like I wasn’t something just for him to devour, but something he was willing to savor. Something about the way he made me feel. Like I wasn’t just something he could have when he wanted and toss me to the side when he didn’t need me, but something he would cherish and adore for every second he had me.
He makes me feel different. He makes me feel special. I suppose that’s why I’m here now. On the shoreline of the lake late at night. It’s past curfew and I’m not meant to be out, I know that, but I just couldn’t stand the crowed cabin any longer. I needed to get out. I needed to think.
My thoughts are cut short when I hear a twig snap behind me ‘shit’ I think to myself. I’m caught. That’s when I hear a familiar voice call my name out. The voice of the boy that’s been haunting my every thought. It was only Luke.
“Is that you?” He asks as he approaches me.
I nod my head. Though, I’m not sure if he can see me. It’s rather dark, so I say “Yeah, it’s me.”
He sits down beside me in the sand and I can feel my heart rate begin to pick up at the proximity. His leg is touching mine. Now that I think about it, he’s always finding ways to touch me. Wether is during sparing and he is “fixing my stance” or taking my hand to drag me somewhere.
“What’re you doing out here so late?” He asks me, and I wonder the same thing about him.
“Just needed somewhere quiet to sit and think” I can feel Luke’s curious gaze on me as I stare out at the glistening water. “Why’re you out here so late?”
“Same as you.” I can still feel his curious gaze on me as he speaks. It’s almost as if he’s challenging me to look at him. “What’s on your mind.”
“It’s—“ I sigh and lean on his shoulder “I don’t know, it’s complicated.” I continue to watch the water as it ripples under the moonlight.
He places his arm around my waist and I can feel my skin ignite under his touch. “Would you like to talk about it?”
“I’m just overwhelmed is all.” I finally look at him with a reassuring smile. “Nothing you have need to worry about.”
Luke nods his head accepting that I’m not willing to talk about it just yet and I thank the gods he doesn’t push any farther. He turns to look out at the water and I do the same. “I see why you like it out here. It’s quiet.” He turns to face me again “Do you come out here often?”
I nod my head. “Yeah, I usually sit out here to get away from everything, from everyone.” I let out a content sigh before laying my head on his shoulder. “I used to think it was nice to be alone here, but I think I like it better with you with me.”
Luke chuckles and I can feel the blush build up on my face. I’m not usually so confident, but the mix of drowsiness and the comfort of the situation drags it out of me. “Really?” He asks me, almost whispering. “Am I better company than your thoughts?”
I nod my head. “You are my thoughts. Almost all of them. No matter where I go I cannot escape you, Luke Castellan.”
Luke pauses for a second and I lift my head from his shoulder. Had I made him uncomfortable? My racing thoughts are silenced when I hear him talk “Can I ask you something?” I nod my head, too nervous to say anything “May I hold your hand?” His question catches me off guard, but I nod my head almost instantly.
He takes my hand in his and it feels as though electricity is running through my body. He’s so gentle, so careful. My hand isn’t much smaller in comparison to his. His fingertips just barely extend past my own. He interlocks his fingers in mind and looks up from our intertwined hands and into my eyes. “The truth is, I came out here to do the same. To try and rid my mind of you. You’re all I can think of of. How beautiful you are, how perfect your eyes look under the sun, how your hair frames your face perfectly, how kind you are to everyone around you. You’re all I can think of and I know—“ He pauses “I know you haven’t had the best experiences with relationships, but I really do hope you’d be willing to give me a chance. I want to prove to you that there is more than just heart break. I want to show you how beautiful love can be. How beautiful our love can be.”
His words surprise me. Of course, I’ve had my suspicions that he liked me, but hearing him admit it out loud is something entirely different. He’s different. Everything about him is different. He says my name and it snaps me out of my daze. “Please.” He says softly, almost begging. All I can bring myself to do is nod my head
“I—Yes, Luke. I’m willing you give you a chance—is a chance. Gods it’s all I can think about.” He smiles and it feels as though the Earth has shifted. That smile, that beautiful smile. I can’t help but smile back at him.
his hand that isn’t holding mine makes its way onto my cheek and I watch as he glances at my lips before returning his gaze to my eyes. The look he’s giving me is, well it’s captivating. I nod my head and without hesitation he presses his lips to mine. The world seemed to fade away as we kissed, marking the beautiful beginning of a journey from friends to lovers.
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OMG😵‍💫 LITERALLY TRYING TO KILL ME… could u do a 5, 16, and 29 for your kinktober masterlist with sirius and remus… im actually going insane rn but anyways hope ur doing well and remember to take a break🪩 thank youuuu beautiful writer
5: first time   16: threesome   29: anal
my. god. seems like you want to kill me! this is one i'd been thinking about trying for so long actually...
okay, so i started writing it, and was going to write a brief lead up, and ended up writing too much. so. i'm posting that here now as a kind of prologue since i'm itching to get something out there and people seem to prefer shorter bits. then i'll write the proper request tonight and link it here when i post later today or tomorrow
UPDATE: link to the actual smut fic
(thank you for requesting! so so love to hear from you🫶)
so to start:
pre- remus x sirius x reader
word count: 1.4k
Prologue
It was for the best, you’d all decided. 
“We’ll all still be friends no matter who you choose,” they’d both said when months of sexual tension and emotional turmoil had finally climaxed in a conversation. 
Sirius and Remus: your two best friends in the entire world. Jaime, too, but it was different. He’d been quite preoccupied lately since getting together with Lily, and he was the only one you saw in a brotherly way. Sirius and Remus, your two best friends in the entire world… well… your feelings for them were less sisterly. 
And, it so happened, they felt the same. Both of them. 
The attraction, the affection, it had all finally become too much, had begun to strain the friendship. And since protecting the friendship was the purported reason none of you were acting on your feelings, you’d finally had that colossally awkward conversation. 
Their proposal: you choose. That way at least two out of the three of you get what you want, and the other can start trying to get over it; all three of you promise to prioritize your friendship even if it takes some readjustment. 
Your response: you couldn’t. You loved them both too much to hurt either of them or, honestly, to even be able to make the choice. 
So, you’d all agreed, it was for the best if you continued as you were. At least now things were out in the open, relieving some angst, some awkwardness. 
Open conversation had done nothing to relieve your feelings, however, and not just the fluffy ones. Those, at least, you could still indulge with your best friends. You could laugh together and talk and go out and even snuggle up on cold nights. But your lust for your boys you could not indulge, and in the pit of your stomach — and a bit lower — it grew and grew. 
Some nights, it became just a bit too much, and you’d opt for a bit of… personal time. You’d touch yourself to the thought of them; one suddenly swapped for the other in your fantasies then back again and so on, not even your mind ever picking a preference.
You have plans with them later but are at their empty flat quite early. They have more space than you, so it’s not uncommon for you to hang out here without them. They’ve even given you a key. 
James is out with Lily, and Remus and Sirius are out on some errand, hunting for some part for Sirius’s motorbike or something. You hadn’t paid too much attention, to be honest, just knew they’d be home in — you check the clock — a couple of hours. 
Enjoying the peace, you read a while, snuggled up on their sofa, Remus’s big, fluffy blanket too inviting to ignore. You stretch out our legs and hear something fall onto the floor. Looking over, you see you’ve knocked over Sirius’s favourite leather jacket. Picking it up, feeling its familiar texture in your hands, in the privacy of your solitude, you bring it up close and inhale. It smells so distinctly of him, and Sirius’s scent has always intoxicated you. 
At the thought of his arms wrapped around you when he’s wearing this jacket, you get a bit warm. You shift Remus’s blanket partly off of yourself, but rather than cool you down, this gets you thinking about his arms around you the many times you’ve shared this blanket. The way his body feels up against yours. The way he’ll often pull your legs on his lap. The way Sirius will come complaining about him hogging the blanket — and you — and sit on the other side of you, resting his head on your shoulder. His long, raven locks tickling your neck. 
Before you realize you’ve really decided to do this, you’ve slithered your body prone; your hand has slipped into your trousers; your eyes have fluttered closed, and your mind is reeling at the thought of them, one on either side of you, doing more than snuggling.
I can be quick, you think. They’re not meant to be back for ages anyway, and I can’t very well hang out with them when I’m already all flustered.
A minute later, your trousers are partly off, and you’re properly touching yourself, completely absorbed in the textures, the smells, the fantasies of the jacket, the blanket, the boys they belong to, the boys whose bodies you want all over yours, the boys whose key you don’t hear because you’re so caught up.
As the door flies open, so do your eyes, and they meet each of theirs in turn, both sets wide and starting. You yank your pants up and pull yourself together, jumping off the sofa.
A mess, your voice is raspy when you say, “I thought you weren’t going to be home till later.” 
A beat. They’re both still staring at you, their mouths agape, their feet seemingly glued to the entrance.
Then Remus awkwardly clears his throat. 
“Um,” cough, “yeah. Bloke canceled. Didn’t have the part.”
“Were you just touching yourself?” pipes up Sirius before Remus is even through with his short explanation. 
“I…” You’re mortified. “I’m sorry! Fuck. I thought I had the place to myself for a while! Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed.” You cover your burning face with your hands. “Ohmygod ohmygod. Please, is there any chance we can just forget this happened?” you plead. 
“Fat chance,” Sirius barks, and you glare at him. “Okay, okay,” he yields, hands up, “We can pretend.” He smirks.
“Pretend what, arsehole?” you say.
He opens his mouth to respond, but Remus cuts him off, saying “— that we didn’t see anything…” Even he is struggling to choke back a laugh as he pats Sirius on the shoulder and adds, “Right, mate?”
Sirius, sarcastic seriousness smeared across his features, just nods. 
“Oh my god,” you say again, seemingly having forgotten the rest of your vocabulary, shaking your head at the situation and plopping back down onto the sofa, face back in your hands. 
They come over, laughing now but comfortingly, and sit on either side of you. Sirius’s arm comes around you, and Remus’s hands take yours and pull them off your face. Surprising you, Sirius is the first to speak. 
“It’s fine, love,” he chuckles. “Honestly.” He rocks you back and forth a bit. 
“It’s not like either of us haven’t had a wank on this sofa.” 
“On the sofa??” Remus retorts. “Your room is right there for fuck’s sake.” 
“Alright, I stand corrected,” Sirius continues, completely unfazed, “It’s not like either of us haven’t had a wank in this flat.” He laughs again, and Remus scoffs, shaking his head, but can’t help but also chuckle. 
“Okay, okay,” you rush, not wanting to start thinking about them wanking, “Can we please talk about something else before I die of embarrassment?”
They agree and let up, and you turn on the telly, desperate for some distraction. The three of you start watching, and after a few tense minutes, you attempt some casual conversation, asking about their days and such. They answer, but the strange mood never quite seems to dissipate. There’s a charge in the air that mere time is no match for. 
You flip the channel and, to your horror, are met with a couple kissing passionately. You turn it off, much too quickly to be at all subtle. You shift slightly in your seat in between them. They’re both much tenser than usual, keeping more distance than usual but somehow pretending not to with an awkward graze here or there. Sirius is squirmy; Remus is too still. 
“How about some music?” you try, getting up and beelining for their record collection and putting something on. 
Realizing it will be even weirder to sit somewhere else, which you never do, you sit back down between them. 
Except for the music: silence. 
Until Sirius whispers, his voice gruff, “So who were you thinking about?”
Your head whips toward him, and you’re met with an expression you’ll never be able to erase from your mind. His stormy grey eyes are blown almost fully black and slightly hidden under heavy lids. His mouth is slightly open, but at seeing your face, his eyes scanning your features, he bites his lower lip. There’s lust in every feature, certainly, but there’s desperation too.
You turn toward Remus. He looks equally wrecked. 
His eyebrows furrow, and you’re unsure whether that’s meant in question to Sirius’s query. 
You look back and forth between the two men, the air around you heavy and electric. 
“Honestly?”
They both nod. 
“Both of you…” you confess.
continued in this smut fic
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blouisparadise · 7 days
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Upon request, today we have the fifth part to our college/university rec list. If you'd like to check out the first several parts, you can find part one here, part two here, part three here, and part four here. Please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!
1) I Can't Get You Off My Mind (I Still Crave It) | Mature | 4,531 words
"You're an idiot," It was Lya's time to interrupt. "Why would you want another guy when you already have yours? Don't you ever get tired of those silly games?" "It is different!," Louis defended himself again, mouth open. "How come it is different?," Lya asked again. "I love Harry," it was easy like breathing. "He's the love of my life, I'm going to marry him," Louis looked around, until his eyes looked with Harry's, glossy and vibrant. "That guy was just a hook."
2) Azaleas Where Your Face Should Be | Explicit | 5,626 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
Harry and Louis having some sexy time and some sappy time and sometimes both at the same time.
3) Spaces Between Us, Hold All Our Secrets | Not Rated | 6,441 words
The thing about Harry is, is that he is the most wonderful guy you´ll ever meet. He is kind, compliments you on things you are usually insecure about, which shows he truly pays attention to who you are as a person. And he befriends everyone. Except Louis.
4) Cut Me Up, Kiss Me Harder | Mature | 9,431 words
A group of friends, a slightly drunk alternate version of spin the bottle, and the universe having a wicked sense of humour may just be enough to bring one bratty omega and a tired-of-said-omega’s-bullshit alpha closer than they’ve ever been. In more ways than one.
5) Hook You Up (Charm You Down) | Explicit | 9,600 words
Swiftly, Harry raises his right hand to his head. Bringing two ringed fingers up, he touches the brown hat sitting on his head, tipping it with a raise of eyebrows in the direction of Peter Pan. He punctuates the whole action with his signature smirk. The reaction is almost immediate. Like Harry hoped it’d be. Though he expected the grin he received, he can’t say he directly expected the man to come forward his way. But he surely isn’t going to complain. “Captain! Fancy seeing you there,” Peter Pan says when he reaches Harry’s space. And wow. Seeing it from up close, Niall was right. Face of an angel, totally Harry’s type and all that. 
6) The One Who Stays And The One Leaving You | Mature | 10,315 words
Fuck. He had just slept with none other than Harry Styles.
7) Behind Closed Doors | Explicit | 10,332 words
“You should ask that whoever he’s currently fucking.” Liam’s eyes grow wide. “No.” His tone is unbelieving, just like Louis’ would’ve been if you had told him what turn today would take. “Yes.” “How do you know?” Louis’ room mate’s eyes barely leave him as he tries to untie his shoes without looking. “Went to his dorm earlier, found a sock on his door handle. He’s such an arsehole.”
8) Sunshine On My Mind | Explicit | 12,704 words
Seeing Harry as an actual professor will never get old to Louis as his eyes soak him in. The casual attire of a student-teacher is gone and now Harry’s got on a button up under a sweater vest that both have stripes on it because someone with a face like Harry’s can actually pull that off. His beige trousers ride up high on his waist, loose and wide around the legs like he’s been preferring lately. By the time Louis’ done taking all of him in, he’s got a smile stretched wide across his face, cheekbones feeling like they’re about to burst just from happiness alone. “Hello Professor Styles."
9) You Know It Ain’t Fiction, Just a Natural Fact | Not Rated | 13,312 words
Harry is the golden boy of the college football's team, Louis is their professors' golden student and they definitely don't have anything in common. Falling in love would be dumb.
10) Kiss Me Once, Kiss Me Twice | Mature | 13,487 words
“You’re a fucking brat, you know that,” Harry muttered through clenched teeth, bones already burning with the pure desire and hatred mixing in his body. It was an intoxicating rush of adrenaline and something else that probably came with fucking Louis Tomlinson. He squeezed his neck just a little tighter. “I can’t stand it.” Their lips were brushing against each other, just moving with the ragged movements of their mouths and harsh breathing. “You’re a lying piece of shit dickhead,” Louis muttered right back. That was all he did, challenge and nag. He loved to have the last word and Harry let him because he used all his energy to fuck him mindless.
11) Wake Me Up With It | Mature | 13,699 words
“Oh god, I sound like a rapist now.” Louis gave a soft, sympathetic giggle, shifting on top of him, and that was when he noticed he was hard, as well. “No, Haz. You fucking me while I'm still asleep and waking up to a dick in my arse? That sounds fucking hot.” “I’d, like, discuss it before. Like get consent for it before.” “Obviously,” Louis rolled his eyes, staring up at Harry with a sad expression. “I’d let you do that to me, Harry.” “What?” Harry blinked, sure the world was ending by those words he never thought he’d ever hear in his life. The words sounded muffled to him, like he was swimming.
12) I Couldn't Face A Life Without Your Lights | Mature | 15,549 words
Louis and Harry are college students who haven't been the same in the past two years.
13) Give My Heart A Holiday | Not Rated | 17,222 words
AU where Louis and someone else both like Harry but Harry obviously likes Louis and is oblivious to the other person with scenes like Harry’s sitting with his legs on the coffee table and the other person wants to walk across and Harry doesn’t see them, so they have to say excuse me, but when Louis wants to cross he doesn’t even have to say anything because Harry sits up, puts his feet down, and gives his undivided attention to Louis.
14) There’s A Hole In My Heart (And It’s Got Your Name On It) | Explicit | 19,508 words
The four scream from the stands as the team huddles together, pulling their helmets and gloves off and slapping each other's backs as they celebrate their win. Louis had stolen a pom-pom from Mal earlier and he shakes it vigorously. His breath hitches when Harry looks up and their eyes meet. The hockey player smirks at him but looks away quickly. “Did he just-” “No.” Louis quickly stops Jade from even finishing that sentence because he’s about to lose his damn mind
15) Kiss And Tell (Me A Lie) | Explicit | 19,827 words
It takes three friends, a video game, and an arse tattoo for Harry to realize the truth.
16) Lovin’ Online | Not Rated | 27,627 words
“Huh?” Harry asks, muffled by his forearm. He feels lips on his face and the tip of Louis’ nose against his ear when Louis repeats himself. Brain sluggish with sleep, it takes a moment for him to process the words, but his eyes snap open, and he’s met with darkness. He's got to be dreaming, there’s no way Louis just said what he thinks he said. “What did you say?” He can see the vague shrug from Louis before he turns around to toss the towel with the pile of their discarded clothes. “Did you say…” he starts slowly, automatically slinging his arm around Louis as he gets back into bed and throws the blankets over them. “That we should make a sex tape?” Louis asks rather nonchalantly for such a big proposition. He cuddles easily into the warm body and confirms, “Yes, I did.”
17) Science & Faith | Mature | 36,442 words
Louis Tomlinson is a science major who's dedicated his life to proving that love doesn't actually exist. Harry's the philosophy major determined to prove him wrong.
18) You Could Be The One That I Love | Explicit | 39,797 words
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Niall waved off. “Now, let’s talk man to man to man. You two have had a crush on each other since uni. Now’s your chance to finally get something going. I could see the sparks and connection and attraction back then and I can still see it now, God damn it! You’re just denying fate at this point.” He looked impassioned, his blue eyes wide and imploring. Louis shook his head again and chuckled. “You can’t just snap your finger and expect us to, like, get it on.” “I’m not,” he reasoned. “I’m merely telling you to do something about it.”
19) Sink Into Your Sunlight | Explicit | 79,562 words
Louis hadn’t forgotten about Harry as much as he tried. It wasn’t due to the strange nature of their meeting, more so the magnetic pull he somehow had on Louis. He couldn’t fathom why this complete stranger stayed in his mind as much as he tried to stop it. Any time his phone sounded his heart skipped a beat at the thought of it possibly being Harry. In all honesty, it made him feel sort of pathetic. Gay guy falls for straight guy, what a cliche he had become.
20) Nothing Quite Hits Like You | Explicit | 81,098 words
For many centuries, Inferis Lamia had been a college strictly for higher magic alphas, where most rulers of the Underworld had reached their Divine Enlightenment to become the alphas they were now. However, that year, for the first time since it was founded many centuries ago, the academy would welcome omegas from the Underworld, giving them the same opportunities alphas had, the same education.
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
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harrysfolklore · 2 years
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Bestie could we plz have a blurb about the boydad idea you posted with Harry holding bub in front of the banner 🥺
i’m on a roll, you might say? anyways here’s another silly little blurb, i hope you enjoy it
ask me anything | masterlist | likes and reblogs are appreciated ! | support me <3
BIGGEST ACCOMPLISHMENT
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“Are you getting my best angles?” Harry jokingly told Lloyd, his photographer, as he snapped picture after picture of him in front of his brand new banner.
“HARRY STYLES. 15 CONSECUTIVE NIGHTS AT THE GARDEN”
That was what he achieved. No other artist or band had done that in the past, and he couldn’t have done it without the support of his fans, and most importantly, the support of his loving wife and perfect son.
The little family of three couldn’t be happier, specially Harry, having his little one year old boy with him on tour for the first time was something he always dreamed of, and he was grateful that his wife agreed to take him on the road with him.
“Hold on let me get my bubba, I want a few shots with him,” Harry spoke again, getting up from his position on the floor and walking towards his dressing room, he knew he would find his wife and baby there.
And there they were, wearing their very own Love On Tour customized hoodies and watching some cartoons on the dressing room’s leather couch. Harry couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his little boy dressed in a mini version of his merch and cuddling to his mom’s side, that sight alone reminded him of how lucky he was to have his perfect family.
“Do you mind if I take the bubba for a minute? I want some pictures with him in front of the banner,” Harry said while he approached the leather couch, squeezing next to his baby, and spreading his arm on the back of it so he could reach the nape of his wife’s neck and place his hand there, softly caressing it.
“Of course I don’t, honey. I was actually going to suggest the same thing,” her voice was so soft and tender, and Harry couldn’t help but grab the back of her neck and pull her in for a kiss, because even though they’ve been together for ten years, married for five and one as parents, the woman in front of him still gave him butterflies like a teenager with a crush.
“Mmkay’ we’ll be right back,” he grabbed his baby in his arms and directed them towards where Lloyd was waiting for them, ready to keep snapping pictures “You’re going to take some pictures with daddy, bubba? You’re going to smile as big as you can for our friend Lloyd?” Harry cooed at his baby boy, who only put his little hands on his face, a habit that he had been picking up lately and Harry and his wife found absolutely adorable.
He crouched down on the floor again so Lloyd could go back to taking pictures, but this time, he placed his little boy on his lap, grabbing him by his sides and putting his face close to his, tickling him a bit so he could crack a smile “Come on baby, give the camera a big smile!” and the little boy managed to pull a little, almost toothless grin, making the picture the most adorable thing ever.
“I think we have enough shots, your baby is actually so photogenic, mate,” Lloyd told his boss and friend, as he showed him the pictures he snapped, his baby was in fact, the most photogenic baby ever.
“I know, he’s perfect,” his words were filled with adoration for the boy in his arms, a mixture of his wife and him, and a product of all the love they have for each other, “I love you, bubba,” he pecked his cheek multiple times. He might have just made history at the world’s most famous arena, but being a dad was still his biggest achievement.
taglist: @cucciolafaerie @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight t @daydreamingofmatilda @sunflowervolume66 @vanteguccir @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @leadmetogarden @abeanontoast @grapejuice-rry y @vrittivsanghavi @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @ivegotparticulartaste @wobblymug @eviesaurusrex @olivialovesh @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @gumballavocadoharry @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas @rafeyyyyy @tinydeskwriter @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m
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chronically-ghosted · 8 months
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Little Monsters
rating: 18+ Explicit
pairing: dieter x f!reader
word count: 5K
summary: A phone call home to your family has you missing them desperately . . . especially your husband, who always knows exactly what you need.
warnings/tags: pregnancy, Dieter has children and is actually a really good dad, director!reader, 1st half is mind numbing tooth rotting FLUFF, 2nd half is straight filth and dieter has a nasty nasty mouth, masturbation, camera/phone sex, slight breeding kink, one single use of ‘Daddy’, if I had an ounce of shame left in me I would not have posted this
a/n: special shout outs go to @spookyxsam for showing me about how babies work and to @lunapascal and @mysterious-moonstruck-musings for talking me off the daddy dieter ledge. this is my first pregnancy fic and i do not know what came over me (she lied, knowing damn good and well what happened to her brain chemistry)
from @yoursoulsunbreakable 's request: Hello sweetie, congratulations on your milestone <3 Here's my request for the little drabble: 5. “Tell me what you would want to do, if you were here right now.” With our precious Dieter and smutty? Hope it'll inspire you 😘
🤍Masterlist
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“Tell me what you would want to do, if you were here right now.”
“Oh, Dieter, I’d – I’d –,”
“Yeah?”
You let out a burst of air from your lips, flopping back against the pillows. “I’d ask you for a foot rub,” you whine into the camera. 
He chuckles, the sound a bit garbled through the speakers. He leans forward into the camera, as if trying to see down your body, the angle of the phone against the hotel’s lamp not quite right. 
“Is Bravo Baby number three giving you trouble?” 
You eye your swelling feet over the steadily swelling bump. Well into your second trimester and the list of shoes in your closet you could still wear is shrinking rapidly. This also happened with your second child and when Dieter made one joke about keeping you barefoot in the kitchen, you nearly threw a butcher’s knife at his head. You stroke the left side of your stomach to preemptively soothe the little brat before they start wailing on that spot all night, sighing into your husband’s sympathetic, pixelated face. 
“They’ve been grouchy all day. Tom had to leave me in the car for a bit after we scouted a potential place for the exterior shots to finish taking pictures because somebody was having a grand old time wearing me out.” You narrow your eyes at him through the camera. “As if there was any doubt this was your child.” 
This is a constant inside joke between you. Your first kid, a girl, was a beautiful blend of both you and Dieter. His eyes, but your hair, your cheeks, and his nose. He also got to name her – said it came to him after he bought some chocolate and water at the hospital lounge –
“Zelle, Dieter, ‘Zelle’?? Like the money transaction service?” 
But you had been too zonked out on painkillers and endorphins to object (you thought it was beautiful at the time), and he signed the papers anyway. Neither of you had come up with a fitting name before then and he swears the instant he held his baby girl in his hands for the first time, it came to him, as if the stars rearranged themselves in the sky with that name. Incurably a romantic at heart – your husband – you found it sweet and also idiotic, but it was too late now. 
Your second one, Orion, had his name written down on a post-it note you carried in your purse for months and you made sure to show the nurse when you were admitted. Not that Dieter would intentionally go against the name you had agreed on if the baby was a boy, but there was a slim chance he’d get so caught up in the moment and, with watery eyes, tell the nurse to write something like Mars Bar on the birth certificate. 
And, for all that, Orion could have been a carbon copy of you.
The joke started when Dieter picked him up from his crib one night and brought that gurgling little mouth right up to his nose. “Are you sure you didn’t just spontaneously create this one? I don’t see a single hint of me in this little guy.” To which Orion giggled around a drool-damp fist and promptly bopped his father on the nose with it. 
“Are you saying you don’t remember what happened the night he was conceived?” You asked with a smirk over your shoulder as you returned some baby bibs to the drawer. 
Dieter snorted and slid Orion into the crook of his arm, those onesie-white feet seen kicking over his forearm. “Now Mommy is just being plain silly.”
That was five years ago and you couldn’t exactly deny you were excited for the smell of newborn to be all over your husband again. 
“I’ll be glad when we hit the last trimester,” he says, chin propped up on his wrist to stare down at you in his other palm, “so I can wave that doctor’s note in your face when you try to work too hard . . . like you are now.” 
You shift onto your side to face him, rolling your eyes. “You only like the third trimester for the sex hormones.” 
After spending most of your first pregnancy, and at least half of your second, trying to claw Dieter’s eyes out if he so much as breathed in your direction, he was delighted to find that by month seven, the hellcat who had taken over his wife’s body turned into a needy, whiny little kitten. 
Some of the best orgasms of his life come from those months, he swears up and down. 
“I’m not going to complain,” he grins, peering down at you from those prescription sunglasses. The Dieter you used to know wore them because he was constantly hungover; your husband wears them because he keeps accidentally misplacing his actual prescription glasses. “All I’m saying is you better be back in time so Daddy can play house with Mommy.” 
The shrill cry is heard through the phone, the closed bedroom door, and at least one hallway:
“Is Mommy on the phone?” 
Barely a second later, you watch over his shoulder as the door flings open and a wild blur of arms and legs dogpiles Dieter onto the bed. You hear him grunt, the camera flips up to the ceiling, as Zelle and Orion clamor for the phone. Chuckling to yourself, you take up the phone from the bedside table and hold it in your palm as you lean back against the pillows and your children’s faces flash over the small screen. 
“Mommy, I made a bug out of noodles and string today.”
“Mommy, I saw a cat that looked like a cow today.”
“Mommy, Daddy’s broccoli tasted funny - you cook it better!”
“Hey!” He lunges for Zelle’s little ankle and pulls her up around her waist as she giggles helplessly. 
You can barely see them, Orion’s pudgy little finger over most of the camera, Dieter’s hair and Zelle’s kicking feet visible only in flashes. 
“You better go help your sister, Orion!” 
Needing no other prompting, he drops the phone against the pillows and leaps onto his father, squealing at the noise Dieter makes. Where Orion got your looks, he had all of his father’s mannerism. You blinked twice when as a toddler Orion’s purposeful pout had looked so similar to his father’s, you wondered if they had practiced it together. Orion is ruthless when it comes to the tickle wars and immediately goes for Dieter’s neck. 
“Help!” he chokes, “I’m being overrun by tiny monsters!”
Zelle roars at his hip and Orion howls – he’d be a werewolf for Halloween a third year in a row if the tradition continued. Despite more frequent and loud protests about his poor back, Dieter lunges forward and yanks Zelle under his arm like she’s a football. He does the same to Orion and faceplants with both of them successfully pinned. It’s the oldest trick in the book and you muse what he’s going to do when they are too big to do that to anymore. But, as Dieter likes to say, one colossal nightmare at a time. 
“Peace treaty?” His voice is muffled by the blanket. 
“Stand and deliver,” they repeat, breathlessly and red faced. He lets them go and the two bodies barely move, grins still plastered to their faces. Cheeks pink, Dieter crawls over and snags the phone.
“See, darling?” he says between heavy breaths, “this parenting stuff is easy.” 
“Mommy, when are you coming home?” Zelle pops her head between Dieter and the phone, her cheek pink and her little hands pushing her hair off her face. 
“Yeah!” Orion pipes up, crawling over Dieter’s back, hooking his tiny hands over his father’s throat. Dieter’s eyes bug out for a moment before adjusting the five year old’s grip. “Are you done chasing the dragon?”
At that, Dieter snickers and you can’t glare with fire in your eyes like you’d like to so you plaster on an overly sweet smile on your face. 
“Rori, we asked you not to say that. It’s a stork, remember?” 
Orion frowns into Dieter’s curls. “But I want a baby brother or sister that comes from a dragon’s egg.” 
“Yeah, Mom, a dragon baby is way cooler than a stork baby.” 
Oh, you are going to kill him. 
This was another ongoing joke . . . for Dieter. Orion’s teacher called home one night after Orion proudly announced that his mommy was off chasing the dragon. Understandably concerned about the phrase, she called to make sure everything was alright, only to find out what he meant was that his mother was expecting a new baby and instead of a stork, his father told him that Mommy was going to find a dragon to put a new egg inside her tummy, and then the new baby would eventually pop out from the egg. 
This was something you had to relay through the phone to the teacher . . . because Dieter was curled up on the floor, laughing so hard he went mute, tears rolling down red cheeks. This had been his ‘stork’ story for Orion, and apparently unaware of just how impressionable a five-year-old is, told him that Mommy was chasing the dragon for a new egg. Dieter says his greatest regret in his life is that he wasn’t there to see the look on Orion’s teacher’s face. 
After that, you (and Dieter once he recovered) tried to alter the story enough so that he wouldn’t accidentally imply his mother was off on a drug binge, but evidently too much stuck. 
“I’m meeting with the dragon tomorrow, okay? I’m not chasing after anything. We’re having lunch. Right, Dad?”
“Absolutely.” He nods seriously at Orion and kisses that fat little cheek. 
“When is the dragon gonna give you the egg with my baby sister in it?” Zelle asks, matching Dieter on her stomach. Dieter’s confidence manifested perfectly in his daughter; you and him had told her many times that the baby might be a little brother, but she just stuck her nose in the air. “I know it’s a sister,” she said, with a characteristic roll of her eyes. 
“A couple more months, baby,” you smile, unconsciously rubbing at your stomach again. Baby Bravo is suspiciously quiet. Not soon enough. “But I’ll be home tomorrow, but you two have to be good for Dad until then, okay?” 
Orion nods from Dieter’s shoulder, but Zelle smirks up at her father in a way that is well beyond her six years.
“I promise to eat all of Daddy’s nasty broccoli!”
Dieter’s own impish nature, thrown right back at him. The one solace you found is that your husband might have finally met his match. 
He grabs her, flips her on her back, and blows a strawberry on her tummy as she shrieks with glee. 
“Alright – that’s it – it’s bath time for all naughty monsters!” He hikes Orion over his shoulder and picks up Zelle by her waist. He glances back over at you, his eyes bright and a giant smile on his face. 
You swear every time you see Orion, there’s less and less baby in his pudgy face, his little hands. Zelle is constantly saying and doing things that surprises you with the depth of their awareness and you know it doesn’t all come from you or Dieter. 
Your heart actually aches from missing them so much. 
“Monsters, say goodnight to Queen Monster–,” more yelling, roaring, “I’ll call you later tonight, okay, baby?” 
You nod, your eyes suddenly hot and tight. “O-okay – love you all.”
“LOVE YOU!” The three-headed monster yells in unison as it lumbers out of the bedroom.
You end the call, just before the tears spill. Again on your back, you stare at the ceiling feeling incredibly sorry for yourself when the baby rolls over and kicks you in the ribs. 
Hey, I’m here too!
You laugh, a little watery, and you wipe your eyes with your palms. Just get through tonight and you’re home. 
“Okay, okay, I’m up. Let’s get ready for bed, would you like that?”
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It’s late. You know you should be asleep already, but the shower had taken longer than expected. The phone call with your husband and children lingered in your mind when you turned on the water and stripped down. Your heart was so full to see Orion’s pout and Zelle’s mischievous grin, especially after such a long day on your feet and for all his teasing, Dieter’s own ease and confidence as a father, as well as a husband, left you feeling . . . warm. In fact, your mind’s eye lingers on him in the memory of the call: his beautiful, rich curls – those square black glasses that made him look annoyingly mysterious and so goddamn hot – his biceps flexing as he throws around his children with ease, his shoulders broad and straining against his shirt — his bulging forearm making his triangle tattoo pop – his wedding ring that replaced all the other rings –
The good news is the baby was almost here. The bad news is that you’re suddenly irrationally horny and your all-too-eager husband was a plane ride away. 
Entirely naked besides the white hotel robe around your shoulders, you sternly ignore the plush tingling between your legs and try to focus on rubbing in lotion into your legs, your hips, over the old and new stretch marks over your stomach. Your fingers rub underneath the curve of your stomach and accidentally brush the damp curls, sending tiny shock waves up your pelvis. You gasp lowly, freezing, eyes tightly shut, fighting back that wave of arousal. 
Goddamn it. 
At first you think the ringing is between your ears, your blood rushing hard and fast, and then you realize it’s actually your phone going off.
Daddy Dieter, the screen reads.
You frown at the clock – if it’s late for you, then it’s very late for him. When he said he’d call you later, you didn’t think he meant literally later tonight. Still frowning, you put down the bottle of lotion and answer the phone.
“Dieter?” 
“Hey, baby. How’s your night?” 
He pulls back the phone and your mouth flushes with spit. He’s shirtless, sunglasses replaced with his actual glasses, that silver earring glinting in the low light. In the center of your bed, he’s propped up on several pillows with his arm tucked behind his head. He has thickened over the years, his chest and shoulders taking on a new weight as if he physically grew into fatherhood — and God, if his bicep was bulging before –
“Dieter –,” your voice is hoarse at first and you have to clear your throat to get anything out of your mouth that isn’t a whine. “Dieter, what are you doing up?”
He shrugs like he’s just been bored at home. “Bath time was easy. Orion wanted just one story and Zelle didn’t put up a fight when I told her it was bedtime and she had to put away the crayons.” 
You narrow your eyes. “Did you slip them Benadryl?” 
“Wow! No! Did you ever think that maybe I’m just that good of a dad?” He scoffs, mildly offended. And then he smirks. “I told them you’d come home sooner if they were good.”
“Ah, the old Santa Claus trick.” You nod sagely and sit down on the edge of the bed, the movement tugging the robe slightly. “Always a classic.”
“Yeah, I –,” Dieter’s eyes widen, edges going dark. “Are you naked?” 
You swallow, his sudden shift in tone causing your thighs to clench. You cross your legs as tightly as your belly will allow, your chin held high.
“I’m in a robe, Dieter. Took a long shower.”
His eyes glitter with interest, the tip of his tongue running on the edge of his bottom lip. “How long?”  
Feeling hot and swollen for months now, you flush pink, an overripe peach beneath the slightest pressure of his thumb. 
“Dieter–,” it’s a whine but you shake your head. “Please don’t tease. I’m so . . . sensitive right now, and I won’t be home until tomorrow and–,”
“Baby, baby, breathe. I know it hurts.” He sits up, his eyes big and dark. “I remember how wet you get around now.”
Your cunt drools onto the robe below you, thighs sticky, his words ringing in your ears. 
“Dieter, don’t –,”
“I know I can’t help you but what if I showed you how to help yourself?” 
You whimper, arousal now hot and warm in the pit of your stomach. The strength of it makes your pelvis ache. You know it won’t be the same as him, but his voice, it might be enough. You nod, your heart pounding, hand holding the phone shaking. 
“Then lie back, baby.” Dieter purrs and it’s almost like he’s pushing you back with his hands. You shift up the bed, careful to not step on your robe with your heels as you center yourself in the covers. But Dieter’s moving, off the bed, and he’s adjusting something behind his phone.
The baby inside you can feel your heartbeat racing and they turn, uneasy. You soothe them with small circles just above your hips, your lips between your teeth. But that touch on your skin, the look in Dieter’s eyes, you brush lower on your skin and immediately you shudder. 
“Baby, please, hurry, whatever you’re doing, hurry –,” 
You drop your fingers over your thighs, curling and uncurling, drawing imaginary lines like he does in the mornings against your shoulders and back. 
“Just a second, sorry, almost got it.”
Then he steps back, the phone hovering in the air. Dieter sits on the bed and the camera holds the entire bed in view. Dieter is nothing if not a performer, bringing a tripod into the bedroom when he knows you need him the most. He’s so fucking hot.
“Can you see me, baby?” 
You nod stiffly. “How do you want me?” 
“Whatever way is comfortable,” he smiles and it’s almost as hot as his smirk. Fuck, he loves you so much. You slide the robe off your shoulders, exposing the tops of your breasts as best you can and still keeping your phone up. “Perfect, baby, that’s perfect.” 
Your hand drops to your thigh again, dragging your nails up under the swell of your belly and you twitch. 
“T-tell me what you would want to do,” you begin, your voice shaking, arousal smooth as it licks up your spine, “if you were here right now.” You feel warm all over, the sheets cool against your calves. 
This far away, you can’t see his eyes clear enough to watch them darken entirely, but his low grunt is enough. It’s time for him to perform for his pregnant and insatiable wife. 
He slips his glasses off and tosses them onto the bedside table, where they land with a clatter. You can’t even think of scolding him when he lifts his hips and yanks his gray sweatpants down his knees, then to the floor. He’s half-hard as he shuffles back to the pillows, nearly in the same position you are. You shift to match him entirely, needing the immersion to be total and complete. You’d cry if he could actually touch you.
“Are you comfortable?”
You nod again. But Dieter shakes his head, his fingers digging into his thighs. “I can’t see you this far away, baby. I need you to say it. Talk to me.”
He was usually the one vocal enough for both of you, any coherent language impossible with the mess he makes out of you. You can’t imagine what you’re going to sound like, not when you’re this needy and desperate already.
“O-okay, Dieter, I’ll try.” 
“Good girl.” You whimper again, trying to restrain from touching yourself before he tells you to. But you’re throbbing, the heat blooming from your cunt rushing to the rest of your body, the baby in you restless. As if mother and child can only be soothed by their father. “Now, breathe, darling, you’re flushed.” 
You inhale, the air notching on every bone in your spine, and exhale, your lungs shuddering, eyes shut. “Dieter, please, tell me what you’d –,” 
“I’d touch your thighs,” he says with such immediacy, your eyes spring open. He’s got the knee farthest from you bent up, as if putting himself on display, turning his hips towards the camera slightly. His other leg is stretched out long beside him and his left hand strokes his cock. Hair and shoulders backlit from the far lamp, the image of him like this alone — just for you — has your cunt clenching, a moan spilling from your lips. “Touch your thighs, baby.”
You can’t grab as much skin as he does, but you try. You lift your knees, and massage the backs of your thighs, then up to your knees, and back down. You can almost feel his breath on your calves and you shudder. “What else? W-where else?” 
“I’ve been thinking about your tits for days,” he groans, the sound strangled, his cock now fully-hard and red. He cups himself, twisting as slow as he can take it. “Tell me what your tits feel like.” 
“Sensitive,” you gasp as you draw two fingers across your nipple and squeeze gently. Dieter only uses his mouth now on them, so you wet them with yours and return them to your swollen bud, slowly twisting and pulling. 
He’s watching you through the camera, eyes wide, breath sharp when you suck your fingers into your mouth. “Fuck, yeah, that’s right. Get them wet. What are you thinking about?”
“You. Your lips around my nipple, under my breast. Your teeth. They’re so heavy, Dieter.” 
His hips jerk under his hand, his fingers moving faster now. You can’t quite hear what he’s muttering, but you catch weak mumblings, “gonna feed our baby”, “yeah, your tits”, the baby” —
“Dieter, please–,” 
“Touch yourself with your fingers wet from your mouth. T-t-tell me what it feels like.”
With a relieved cry, you slide your hand down from your tits, over the swell of your belly, and in between your thighs. Wetness clings to the curls, to the curve of your ass, your body so ready to take him, and it locks up when you slip a finger inside.
“So wet. Warm. How many fingers can I put in?”
“One, but – can you already do two?”
You nod, the huff arching into a whine. “Yeah, baby. You have no idea how wet I am. I can slip in two with no resistance.”
“Jesus,” he pants and slows down, his hips rocking of their own accord. “You’ve got me so hard.” 
You curl your fingers inside of you, searching for that spot made and found and praised by him. Your folds plump and achy, you twist your wrist, scissor your fingers, but it’s not the same. It’s not the same as his three fingers plugging you up, readying you to take so much of him, it’s enough to ease the sharp ache for a bit. You moan, fucking yourself more. He hears it, sees it, and grunts. 
“You can come wherever you want, baby,” he murmurs, his own hand hesitant to match your speed. He tugs on his balls and his toes curl, his neck long and tense. “Fuck, I need your hands.”
“Me too,” you sob, real tears pricking the corners of your eyes. It feels good but it’s not the relief you need. It’s pathetic but you don’t want to stop. You can’t get in deep enough, even if you could get around your big belly. “Dieter, I can’t reach. It’s – I’m –,”
“Breathe, love, it’s okay.” His voice is soothing, calming. The same one he uses when you’re in labor and the sweet honey warmth of it sinks into your bones, easing the panic. You slow, gasping, tears pooling down your temple. Your orgasm is harsh, sunken in the dark, waiting for you to draw it out.
“What can you reach?”
“My clit.” 
“Then touch that. Can I see?”
You nod, angle the phone down as you rub that electric nub. 
“Oh, fuck, baby. I know it’s frustrating and I know it hurts, but you look so fucking good. So wet for me. Your pussy is perfect, pink, just how I like her.”
“Yeah?” you spin your fingers faster. That hot arousal returns steadily, melting back the resentment towards your own body the longer he praises. 
“Oh yeah.” You can hear the slap of skin on the other end of the phone and you can picture Dieter flat on his back jerking himself off to your pulsating cunt and you moan, loudly, tension evaporating from your body. “How do you feel?”
“Good. Tight. I just need a bit more.” 
“Me too. Let me see your face, pretty girl.” You turn the camera and gape at the sight on the screen. 
Precum drips out of his now-purple cock, his chest flushed and neck sweaty. He’s twirling the head around with his thumb at the pace you’ve set with your fingers against your clit. 
“Look at what you’ve done to me. You’re so fucking gorgeous. Can’t wait for you to be home so I can eat you out for hours.” 
“I want your cock in me, Dieter,” you gasp, furiously rubbing on your clit, sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through you. Your cunt clenches in time with your thudding heartbeat. “You’re so thick. I wanna feel the stretch.”
“Oh, I’m gonna fuck you hard.” The confession is a low snarl, a promise made between the ridges of his teeth. He fucks his fist faster, the noise over his labored breathing obscene. “Gonna put your hands on the headboard, your pussy in my lap and I’m gonna fuck up into you until I fill you full again. Wanna make you pregnant twice.” 
Arousal floods your veins, your thighs a gooey mess. You toss your head back, back arching, and you moan as loud as you can. 
“Oh– shit, oh, oh, shit–,”
“You’re gonna leak all over my thighs and when you’re done coming so hard you can’t see straight, I’m gonna lick it up all off you, my wife. Mine. My baby. Mine. Fuck, you look so good full of me.”
He’s never this possessive, never angry that he can’t have you but he sounds livid. He fucks his fist, his hips bucking into nothing, his other hand squeezing his thigh so hard his knuckles go white. 
You circle your clit one more time and finally — your orgasm crests, your body locking up, your cunt gushing – and it leaves your mouth before you can stop it –
“Oh, Daddy–,”
You hear him gasp as if electrocuted, and you have to drop your phone to steady yourself as the weight of white-hot pleasure explodes across your body. You rock, breath gone from your lungs, mouth open in a silent scream, and everything slams back into you and you gasp, high and loud, every inch of your skin hot and trembling. You don’t realize you’re sweating until you feel it drip off your neck.  
All you can hear is Dieter panting from your phone amongst the covers, the sound muffled. Your eyes flutter as the warm waves languish, then curl, and finally, you sigh as the last waves drain out of your body. If you weren’t lying down you’re sure you’d be dizzy.
“Oh my god,” you mutter breathlessly to no one in particular.
“B-baby, you still there?”
You blindly feel around for your phone, arm so weak it’s trembling as you pull the camera towards your face
Dieter looks about as fucked out as you feel. Cock limp and still dribbling, his stomach and chest are covered in cum. He pushes his damp hair off his forehead, eyes wide and staring at the ceiling. 
“Holy shit, baby, that was …”
“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing your dry tongue, wishing again he was here so he could get you a glass of water. “I hope that wasn’t all of it because I really want you to say all of those things again tomorrow when you’re inside me.”
He groans and adjusts his limp cock. “You say that now but wait until Baby Bravo kicks you in the kidneys. You’ll be feeling a lot less generous towards this,” he gestures aimlessly to his naked body, “then.”
You chuckle. “Let’s just hope for the best. Besides,” you say, groaning a bit as you sit up to wipe the sweat off your neck with the robe, “I’m pretty sure I can have you eating out of the palm of my hand. Now that I know your secret . . . Daddy.” 
Dieter groans as you laugh. He shakes his head. “You shouldn’t be so surprised by now when you make me discover new kinks.” 
“Mhmm hmm.” 
He rolls his eyes as he gets up and picks the phone off the tripod. Holding the phone to his face, he wipes the cum off with his sweatpants before turning his attention back to you.
“How are you? Feel better?”
“Much better.” You stretch and lean back in the bed. If he was here, you’d probably be asking to eat you out, but at least the knife’s edge of desire has dulled. You can at least wait until nap time to jump your husband’s bones. 
“Good,” Dieter sighs, satisfied. “I’ll be there to pick you up from the airport tomorrow, okay?”
He always gets like this the nearer the due date comes, as if he can’t stand to see you lift a finger unnecessarily. You smile and nod, never wanting it to be any other way. 
“I’ll text you when I land.”
“Okay. Good night, my biggest love. I love you, so much.” 
“I love you too, Dieter.” Goddamn hormones, making you cry again. 
“Now lemme say goodbye to our little traveler.”
You wipe your eyes with your thumb as you tilt the phone to your swollen belly. 
“Good night, Baby Bravo. Can’t wait to have you around.”
And, at the sound of their father’s voice, they stir. Not kick or hurt. Just a tiny foot against your tight skin.
You are officially crying now. 
“They said hi, didn’t they?”
You’re nodding, crying, and he can’t see a damn thing. “Yeah,” you say quietly. “They said good night, Dad.”
He’s patient with you as you wipe your eyes, cheeks flushed again. 
“Baby, don’t cry, you’re breaking my heart.”
“You’re just a really good dad. And I’m so lucky,” you blubber. “This is it! I’m never leaving to go scouting again. I can’t take it.” 
“Mhmm. Let’s revisit that when you’re about two months postpartum and clawing at the walls.”
You laugh with him, your own sticky and goopy. “Fine.”
“Go to bed, love, and for the record, I’m the lucky one. Don’t forget that. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night.” You blow a kiss and he catches it. You roll your eyes. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
You stay like that for a bit, cradled by the pillows, and your phone on your chest, thinking about everything from Dieter to the next school picture day, to the next family vacation, and of course, the zillion things you have to get done with work before the baby comes — hopefully all from the home office.
She kicks. 
You smile, wondering how you and Zelle both just know it’s a girl. Dieter has his own suspicions, he says, but he’s saving them. Orion would probably be thrilled to have a dragon in the family. You snort, hand over the place where she put her little foot.
“I miss them too, sweetie. And once you’re here, we’ll outnumber those silly boys. Maybe we’ll have to get a dog. You’ll like dogs.”
She’s silent, maybe sleeping, maybe thinking about what the heck a dog is. You smile, turn off the lamp, and peel back the covers. The sheets are cool and soft.
You fall asleep, dreaming of little feet, and hands, and wedding rings.
251 notes · View notes
freelancearsonist · 18 days
Text
el chico del apartamento 512
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➔ Frankie Morales x gn!Reader - 1.6k
➔ There's a rumor going around your building about the resident of apartment 512, and you're eager to investigate.
➔ Rated PG-13 for allusions to sex but otherwise just some plain old fluff and fun. post movie canon wife and kid erasure sorry, takes place in colombia, both reader and frankie speak spanish and everything is translated.
➔ this is my entry for the Selena Drabble Challenge hosted by mi esposa @fhatbhabie <3 sorry i've been sitting on this forever hehe but i hope you enjoy
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Frankie barely manages to pull himself out of the slump he’s in for the first year or so after the absolute disaster in the Andes.
He misses his family, misses his friends, misses his crew–his brothers. He tries to convince himself that it’s for the best, that it’s only a matter of time before those assholes who were in cahoots with Lorea come after him–that the people he loves will be safer and happier if he’s not around them when it happens. And most of the time he can block all that sadness and pain out by throwing his whole mind and body into the earnest construction job he picks up in this new town within this new country. But it catches up to him late at night in dreams and quiet whispers of intrusive thoughts; that he’s a coward for abandoning the ones that needed him most, that he could’ve done more to make that damned mission less of a disaster. That he could’ve come out of it rich and happy if he wasn’t such a fuck-up.
He wakes up screaming in the middle of the night, an ache so deep in his chest that it feels like he’s been shot. He clutches at his sternum and tries to catch his breath but he can’t. His body wracks with sobs and he knows he’ll never be okay again.
But somehow, he ends up okay anyway. Somehow, he falls back to sleep just to repeat the cycle the next day.
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There’s a rumor going around amongst your neighbors that apartment 512 is haunted.
People hear things–weird things. Screaming, crying, banging–and always at the dead of night. And everyone swears up and down that they’ve never seen the guy who supposedly lives there. The people who say they have seen him get more dramatic with their descriptions every time–toweringly tall, shoulders that could stand up to a wrecking ball, hauntingly sad eyes and gaunt face. It’s like he’s a thing of legend–a story they tell their kids to make sure they behave. “Don’t run in the halls or the guy from apartment 512 will get you.”
You figure he’s probably just some guy who works long hours and likes to watch horror movies to unwind or something–not a monster or a ghost, just misunderstood. You haven’t seen the guy yourself, but you kinda like him anyway. The building’s certainly been a lot quieter since he moved in… well, everywhere except his own apartment, at least. 
You find yourself keeping a more vigilant eye out, alert to any face in the building that doesn’t look familiar. It seems kinda silly to want to see someone you don’t know, but you’re a little nosy and a little more than curious. If there’s some truth to the rumors that have been going around by the people who claim to have seen him, you want to find out for yourself.
It’s a completely ordinary night when you notice an unfamiliar face in the mailroom, and you have to do a double take. This stranger is handsome–tall and dark with shaggy brown hair and an even shaggier patch of stubble across his jaw.
He’s just standing there, staring blankly at a row of mailboxes, looking so… foreboding. You approach slowly, cautiously; part of you thinks you should just walk away and let this man do whatever he’s doing. But there’s a large, louder part of you that approaches with curiosity. There’s just something about him that draws you in, that makes you put on your best smile and ask, “Señor? Necesitas ayuda?” (Do you need help, sir?)
He blinks slowly, heavily, and then dark brown eyes flicker towards you.
“Oh!” He clears his throat and it’s like he’s coming back from an out of body experience–the color returns to his face, his eyes lose that glassy sheen, and his posture loosens a bit. He looks friendly now, sheepish even. He wrings his big hands and shifts on his feet, as if he’s been caught at a vulnerable moment. “Lo siento, estaba en la nube.” (Sorry, I was spacing out.)
“Está bien,” you tell him with your most disarming smile. “Andas buscando algo?” (It’s okay. / Are you looking for something?)
“No, solo estoy recopilando mi correo,” he rumbles before flashing you the most charming smile you’ve ever seen in your life. (No, I��m just getting my mail.)
He fishes through his pockets and finds a small silver key–and then he inserts it into the box labeled “512”.
“Tú vives en el apartamento 512?” There’s a strange air of reverence in your voice despite trying to hide it. This is the guy everyone’s been talking about, and he doesn’t seem nearly as monstrous as everyone tried to make him sound. (You live in apartment 512?)
“Uhhh… sí?” He chuckles and looks over to you, and you can see the way his brow furrows at the look of shocked surprise on your face.
You realize you’re actually gaping open-mouthed at the poor guy, and you snap your mouth closed as soon as you see the little crease between his brows deepen. Not soon enough for it to go unnoticed, though–the corner of his mouth flickers up in a pseudo-smirk, and god he’s handsome.
“No hemos tenido la oportunidad de conocernos aún.” You look up at him and give your best, winning smile as you give him your name. There’s a strange, fluttery feeling in your stomach as his dark eyes meet yours–have you mentioned how handsome he is? (We haven’t had the chance to meet yet.)
“Mucho gusto,” he says with a smile. “Soy Frankie. Supongo que vives en el edificio también?” (Nice to meet you. / I’m Frankie. I’m guessing you live in the building too?)
“Oh, sí,” you say with a slight laugh. “No soy ningún tipo de acosador, vivo en el apartamento 526.” (Oh, yes. / I promise I’m not some kind of creep, I live in apartment 526.)
And then you catch his eyes dragging along your form, not even the least bit subtle, and you try your best to be nonchalant about the way you have to lean against the wall to avoid melting into a puddle on the mailroom floor; especially when you see those full lips of his curve into a smile, and you know he’s liking what he’s seeing.
“Nah, no creo que seas un acosador,” he hums–and there’s that damned smirk again. If you don’t get out of here you’re going to start drooling. (I don’t think you’re a creep.)
He grabs two letters from his mailbox, examines the envelopes, and then unceremoniously dumps them both into the trashcan in the corner with a mumbled, “Malditas estafas por correo.” (Damn junk mail.)
“Eso es lo único que recibo ahora también,” you tell him sympathetically. (That’s all I get anymore too.)
He brushes past you slightly as he moves to the door, and you get a whiff of distinctly woody cologne that makes your heart pick up a beat. You try to act normal and go to open your own mailbox, but he stops in the narrow doorway and leans against the jam to look at you.
“Te volveremos a ver aquí?” (Will I see you around again?)
You think the rumors about him were right, at least a little bit. He’s towering and imposing–he fills the entire doorway with ease. He’s firm and broad and sturdy and big. Maybe he would be intimidating to someone else, but all you can think about is climbing him like a tree.
“Sí. Puedes verme cuando tú quieras.” (You can see me whenever you want to.)
His eyes flicker indecisively for a moment, and then he draws his bottom lip between his teeth. “Qué tal viernes por la noche?” (What about Friday night?)
You try not to focus on how you want him to bite into you like that as you tell him, “Sí, eso sería perfecto.” (Yes, that would be perfect.)
“Perfecto. Te veré luego.” And then he flashes you that damned adorable boyish smile again before he retreats from the mailroom. You think he’s going to be trouble for you. (Perfect. I’ll see you then.)
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The monthly building meeting is Saturday morning, and you’re glad to see Frankie’s decided to join in finally. Everyone throws curious looks his way as he walks through the room towards where you’re seated, but no one is curious or brave enough to ask who he is.
“Buenos días, querida,” he murmurs, discreetly ghosting a kiss against your cheek as he drops into the seat beside yours. There’s a hint of amusement in his eyes as they trail over your outfit: the same one you wore to dinner last night, the same one you picked up off his bedroom floor this morning and shoved on hastily to get to this meeting in time. (Good morning, dear.)
Before you get a chance to respond, your neighbor from across the hall plunks down in the seat on your other side.
“Escuchaste ese ruido anoche?” She asks, sounding more amused than annoyed. (Did you hear that noise last night?)
“Qué ruido?” You ask with a raised brow. (What noise?)
She smirks with satisfaction, like she knows something you don’t. And then she looks pointedly between you and Frankie. “Suena como si nuestro fantasma en el apartamento 512 hubiera conseguido un socio para él.” (It sounds like our ghost in apartment 512 got himself a partner.)
You nearly choke on your own tongue, but Frankie just chuckles raspily and wraps an arm around your shoulders. He learned all about the rumors from you last night over dinner, and he thinks they’re hilarious. Besides, they’ll die out soon enough anyway–he’s never slept quite as peacefully as he did last night in your arms–if he doesn’t feed them a little bit. And if feeding the rumors means keeping you moaning and groaning the way he did last night, he can’t say he minds it one bit.
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ghcstao3 · 10 months
Note
soap but he’s a honeypot and ghost is his lookout send tweet
ohohohoh i like this (also sorry this is so late, i feel like i’ve been so one-track minded lately. and i wrote most of this with a concerning amount of cold medicine in my system so) warning for lots of ghost pining
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It’s a mission just a bit unlike any other.
Sure, they’ve all taken their turns offering themselves up as bait to the enemy, but not like this.
Ghost doesn’t like the mission one bit. And he knows exactly why—but he’ll choose to blame it on anything else. Like the fact that his lookout post is within the facility, a crowded club, and not some high perch where he gets to peer through the scope of his rifle, where he feels most at home.
He chooses to blame his unease on that fact, and not at all because Soap is currently posed to be seducing their target.
Ghost remembers how he felt watching Soap getting brought to his knees and a bag over his head what felt like ages ago, their first time working together—yet somehow watching from the balcony, seeing the sergeant’s easy smile as he sidles up to the target and looking entirely within his element, it feels worse.
It’s harder convincing himself it’s not jealousy curling in his gut.
“Hey, handsome.”
Even amidst static, bass-filled music, and loud chatter, Ghost could close his eyes and pretend the low, Scottish drawl of those two words was meant for him.
But he can’t close his eyes, because he’s working, goddamnit—and besides, those words aren’t for him. Probably wouldn’t ever be.
Ghost tunes out of most of the conversation that follows, only keeping an ear out for the code word to initiate Soap’s extraction. But seeing as Soap and the target have just begun talking, it’d be a while yet before Ghost could escape this hell.
God, he hates this.
The purr of Soap’s voice is so difficult to ignore, right in his ear, even as the man in question is at a bar what feels like miles away.
Ghost has been tortured, but being forced to watch Soap put his hand on another man’s thigh is the only thing that would get Ghost to give up anything if only it could be him instead.
It’s almost painful. It is pathetic.
Especially when he nearly loses eyes on Soap while caught up in his moping, as the sergeant is escorted away by their target, who is unknowingly leading himself directly to where the operation wants him to be.
Ghost watches with an intensity that's even startling to himself as Soap is eventually pulled into one of the club's private rooms. He could vomit, listening to the ministrations and sweet nothings exchanged behind a closed door.
He prays for the signal. A confession, an arrest, an end to the mission. A reprieve, freedom.
Some fresh fucking air. Ghost thinks the scent of alcohol and sweat is getting to him.
Or is making things worse, at the very least.
Ghost barely registers when the code word is said into comms. He acts with a readiness and efficiency formed of scavenged professionalism and an overwhelming bitter jealousy that has Soap's look of triumph briefly replaced by surprise when they're finally reunited.
The lieutenant tries his best not to think about the tight fit of Soap's civvies as they work side by side to immobilize and extract the target.
If Ghost is extra rough, then that's no one's business.
And when all is said and done, it takes an enormous amount of strength not to spill his guts right then and there about how that night made him feel.
Though he's not certain he does a great job of keeping it all in. Not when Soap bumps their shoulders and cheekily asks, "Reckon they'd let me do a mission like that again, LT?"
And Ghost can do nothing but scowl and tell him, "Absolutely not."
Because he reckons this mission will remain unlike any others, so long as he can help it.
So long as it's not him that Soap is lending his attention to.
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