#be the spare change and colorful bits of plastic you want to see in the world

[mumblelard]

oh kitten, thank you for letting me, with my tiny life, pass by your river

if i seem a little scattered to you now, it's just because i haven't learned my lesson well

#plastic buckets nested together and filled with little shovels #underpass #wednesdays #waters #pareidolia #tsunami #duckweed #be the spare change and colorful bits of plastic you want to see in the world #north fulton county #georgia

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Blind Spot

Spencer Reid x (Gender Neutral) Reader

Word Count: 2640

Warnings: Hair pulling kink! Bucketloads of sexual tension but no actual sex. Gratuitous facts about bird nests. Dorks being oblivious. Lots of fluffy heart-eyed banter. Accusations of intercourse with fictional tree-beasts. 

A/N: I saw a gif that made me want to pull Spencer’s hair. That’s it. I have zero shame. 

For the “friends to lovers” square on my @cmbingo​ card! Proofread by @fangirlxwritesx67​ because she’s the best. 

“You look like you fucked an Ent,” you commented cheerfully, stealing sideways glances at Spencer while you waited for the light to change.  

“Thanks, that’s helpful.” He grimaced, trying to tug another burr out of a snarled curl. 

“Oh my god, you’re just making it worse! I’ll help you when we get back to your place. Leave it, you goober.” 

“Did you just call me a goober?” Spencer asked, trying not to laugh. 

“You’re like the dictionary definition of a goober,” you said fondly. 

“I have three PhDs!”  

“I really wish I’d gotten a video of that tumble, Doctor Goober.” 

Spencer was blushing, grinning down at his lap as he shredded a piece of leaf. It was hard not to stare at him when he smiled like that. 

He’d essentially face-planted into a burr bush earlier, somewhere in the Virginia woods — he’d been so excited about explaining some wonky bit of Star Trek physics theory to you that he just forgot to pay attention to his feet — and he’d floundered out with half a hedge stuck in his hair before picking up exactly where he’d left off. 

In other words, Doctor Spencer Reid was a ridiculous human being. You knew that, objectively. It didn’t stop you from having a massive crush on him. 

Either he was pretending not to notice, to spare your feelings, or he was socially oblivious; you tended to believe the former, considering how well you’d seen him read other people, but you appreciated it. There was a chance you’d make it out of this — if you could just get over it already — with your friendship intact. 

You cleared your throat and told him, “You look like the bastard child of Grandmother Willow and the Wizard of Oz scarecrow.” 

“Even if they were real, the anatomical —” 

“You didn’t mention that when I brought up the Ents. Something you want to tell me about you and Treebeard?” 

“You’re ridiculous,” he huffed, trying to sound exasperated, but he could barely keep a straight face for a second before he was laughing, that scratchy sunny childish giggle that only came out when he was really relaxed and carefree. 

“Close the window before a bird sees you and decides to take up residence.” 

“How about you watch the road?”

“What, no facts about bird nests?” 

“Is that a rhetorical question?” 

“Nope.” 

“Well in that case… gyrfalcon nests are frequently re-used and passed along for generations. The oldest one that’s been discovered was in Greenland, and it was actually estimated to be approximately 2,500 years old.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yes! In fact…” 

You had to remind yourself, yet again, to stop staring. 

Maybe someday you’d get sick of hearing Spencer talk, but you couldn’t really understand the way most of your teammates reacted to his rambling. Even if you didn’t care about what he was saying, there was something amazing about the way his eyes lit up and his hands fluttered around to illustrate his point.

You parked in front of his building and followed him upstairs. His apartment had become comfortingly familiar — ever since you and Spencer bonded over a shared love of sci-fi, you’d taken to driving him home and, if it wasn’t too late, sticking around for an episode or two of Doctor Who.  

He got his ancient little DVD player up and running, and you settled on the couch, fluffing pillows and shoving aside his nest of colorful crocheted blankets, getting cozy. There was something about Spencer’s space that always felt like home; maybe it was the smell of books, or just the general Spencer-ness of the whole place. 

Just being around him had always kinda felt like home, too. Sometimes you forgot you’d only known him for six months. 

He disappeared into his room for a second and came back with a comb. It was cheap plastic, missing a couple teeth, and looked like it hadn’t been used in a while. You looked from him to the comb and back again. 

“That actually explains a lot,” you said, grinning. Spencer rolled his eyes and sat down on the floor in front of you, leaning back against your shins, and after a dismayed glance at his curls, you commented, “We could always just shave it all off.” 

“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer,” he said primly. 

You started with a couple of the less tangled pieces, finger-combing carefully through one soft lock at a time. You half-expected some comment about primates and social grooming, or at least a few facts about the quantum theory behind the TARDIS, but Spencer was uncharacteristically quiet and still, his eyes fixed on the TV. 

You separated out one of the worst knots, and he tilted his head to the side to give you better access. You were being as gentle as possible, but you knew you were hurting him at the first tug — he sucked in a breath, knuckles going white as his fingers clenched on his knees. 

“Sorry, I’m trying,” you sighed. 

With his head tilted like this, you could see the muscle clenching in his jaw and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. 

“S’okay,” he whispered hoarsely. “It’s not — not your fault.” 

He sat there stiffly as you worked. His hair was silky, where it wasn’t hopelessly knotted, and you were close enough that you could smell whatever clean, sweet shampoo he used. Something about it made you want to hold your breath; it felt like you were too close. Spencer rarely let you inside his little bubble of personal space. 

Maybe that was why he seemed uncomfortable. He was usually so fidgety, tapping out a rhythm or twirling a pen between his long fingers, and it was strange to see him motionless like this. 

You ran your fingers through a de-tangled section, slow and careful, and Spencer shivered, his shoulders trembling for a moment before he went unnaturally still again. 

Spencer blurted out, “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

At the same time, you asked, “Are you cold?” 

You paused for a moment, surprised by the reaction, but after hesitating, Spencer just muttered, “Yeah. Cold.” 

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were missing something. It was too warm, if anything; Spencer had a patchy flush crawling up his neck and over the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones. 

“Here you go, goober,” you said, awkwardly cheerful in an attempt to cover your uncertainty as you grabbed an afghan from the couch and draped it around his shoulders. 

“Thanks.” He pulled the blanket down onto his lap without looking at you. “But maybe I should just do this myself.” 

“You’re never gonna get this loose on your own, not without scissors,” you warned, plucking at the knot around the last burr in his hair. “I’ll just, um — I’ll try to be more gentle.” 

“Maybe just go for it,” he said. “Get it over with.” His voice had gone all high-pitched and strained, like he was on the verge of a panic attack. If this was how much he disliked physical contact, no wonder he always avoided hugging you. 

You tried to go quickly, figuring that one quick moment of pain was better than another ten minutes of making Spencer uncomfortable. In your nervousness, you ended up tugging the burr out much more abruptly than you’d intended, and Spencer let out this rough, low, choked-off sound. Before you could apologize, he was jerking away from you, curled in on himself with his shoulders up around his ears like he was worried you were going to hit him, and — 

“Sorry,” he said, voice cracking. 

— what? 

“Spence?” you said tentatively. “What—”

He was still just curled up on the floor in a ball of gangly limbs, but he half-turned to you, twisting around. He wouldn’t make eye contact, though; he was staring intently at the pillow that was on the couch next to you. It felt weird, looking down at him like this, so you slid down onto the floor, hoping it wouldn’t spook him. He shifted back slightly, but at least he didn’t flinch away. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t — this was a bad idea.” 

The profiler in you couldn’t help but notice a few details. He was blushing, for starters. His lower lip was red where he’d been biting it, and — this was the part that surprised you most — his pupils were huge. 

You knew what Spencer looked like when he was panicking, and this wasn’t it. 

“Oh,” you breathed. “Oh.” 

He looked down at his lap, frowning as he played with the loose thread in the cuff of his sweater. 

“Sorry,” he repeated. “I know you don’t feel the same way, I wasn’t trying to — I didn’t realize it would be like that, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and—”

“Wait, what?” 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable! I shouldn’t have asked—”

“I don’t feel the same way about what?” 

“I know you’re not attracted to me,” Spencer said, barely audible. 

“You’re… you…what?” 

He looked up, at that, genuinely startled. There was something sweet and vulnerable shining in his eyes, and your heart was racing. You slid a little bit closer, so that your knees were almost touching Spencer’s as you faced each other, cross-legged. 

“I thought you knew.” His hushed, croaky voice broke on the last word. “I thought I was being obvious.” 

You gaped at him for a second before letting out a sharp, hysterical giggle. 

He ducked his head again, hiding behind a curtain of hair, but not before you saw the hurt expression that flashed across his features. 

“No, that’s not—” you blurted out. “Spence. Spencer.” 

“Forget it,” he said sharply, his body going tense like he was about to bolt. “Can we just forget this happened?” 

Before you could think better of it, you reached out and pushed a few curls back behind his ear, and then you grabbed, twisting your fingers in his hair to tug him forward. You cut off the startled noise he made with a clumsy, eager kiss. 

The angle was all wrong, both of you leaning forward awkwardly, but it felt like sparks all down your spine.

You pulled away just far enough to get the words out: “I thought I was being obvious.”  

Then Spencer was surging closer on his hands and knees, crowding into your space, until you had a lapful of rumpled doctor pressing you back against the couch. He cupped your jaw with gentle spidery fingers, gaze locked on your mouth, and leaned in slowly like he was still waiting for you to push him away. 

There was nothing awkward about it this time. If the first kiss was sparks, this was fireworks — it was such a goddamn cliche you wanted to kick yourself for thinking it, but it was true. Your head was spinning. Every pillowy press of his lips and soft slide of his tongue seemed to steal the breath from your lungs. 

By the time you broke apart you were panting, but at least you weren’t the only one. Spencer’s chest heaved as he pulled away. He was still staring at your mouth like he couldn’t help himself. Part of you wanted to kiss him again and maybe never stop, but another part of you was paralyzed, trying to process the fact that this was actually happening. 

You just wanted to put the world on pause so that you could memorize everything: the way he licked his lips, the smell of his laundry detergent, the barely-perceptible movement of his pulse — you’d never seen that before because you’d never been this close to him before. You wanted to hold onto it, even the less-than-perfect details — the soundtrack of buzzy Dalek screeching in the background — the way you were folded together on the floor, all too-long legs and bony elbows, which was going to get uncomfortable fast.  

Spencer seemed to feel the same way. He grazed the pad of his thumb over your lower lip, then followed the curve of your smile out to your temple and traced the shell of your ear with careful fingertips. When he brushed his curled-up fingers along the ridge of your cheekbone, you turned your head and kissed his knuckles.  

His hand came to rest on your shoulder, and you wrapped your fingers around his wrist, holding it in place, feeling the blood and bones shifting under the skin.  

“You really didn’t know?” you whispered. 

He shook his head shyly and gave you one of those incandescent smiles that always made your heart race. “No idea.” 

“I thought you were just ignoring it to spare my feelings,” you confessed. 

“I thought you were doing that.”  

“I thought you were good at your job!” you laughed. “Aren’t you supposed to be a genius or something?” 

“I think I have a blind spot, where you’re concerned.” He was blushing again. “But I was so distracted by you that I walked into a bush! How did you not —” 

“I’m the one who stares at you all the time like a creep.” 

“You thought you were being creepy?” he said sheepishly. “As soon as you started touching my hair — oh my god that’s embarrassing.” 

“That’s not the word I would’ve used.” 

You tangled your fingers in his curls, tugging experimentally. His breath hitched. 

Both of you were utterly still for a moment, watching each other, and the tension between you seemed to fill the air like a living thing. You were excruciatingly aware of all the places your bodies were touching.

You considered all the places you could touch. It would be so easy. You could tug him in, kiss him, melt into each other… there were so many possibilities, suddenly, and there was something incredible about that: the electricity, the excitement, the moment of pure potential in the pause between certainty and action. 

Spencer sighed, long and shaky, and you were so close that you could feel the current of exhaled air. 

“I couldn’t think straight,” he murmured, with a twitch of a smile. “That doesn’t happen to me often.” 

“So you didn’t know…” 

You scritched your fingernails down his scalp, marveling at the way he shivered and swayed closer like he was hypnotized. He curled his hand around the side of your neck, thumb slowly stroking the hinge of your jaw. 

“I knew I liked it,” he confessed. “But — within a certain context? Not out of nowhere like that. I didn’t think it would be... like that.” 

“Like what?”

“Intense.”  

“Yeah?” 

“But I think maybe it’s just you.” His eyes had gone all glassy and heavy-lidded, and you could barely breathe. “Maybe you drive me crazy no matter where you’re touching me.” 

“I can think of a few ways to test that hypothesis.” 

You caught a glimpse of his grin, but then he pressed his forehead to yours and his features went blurry, too close for you to focus.

“Never really thought I’d be into dirty talk, but if you’re going to start quoting the scientific method…” 

“Funny, most of the time you never shut up,” you said, giddy and overwhelmed. 

The tip of his nose brushed yours. There was maybe an inch of space between your mouths, and you wanted to close that gap so badly it felt like a physical ache. 

“I mean, if you want me to start rattling off statistics—” 

“Spencer.” You fisted both hands in his hair, tugging sharply, and he shuddered. “Take a hint.” 

“Blind spot, remember?” he whispered, lips brushing yours as they shaped the words, feather-light and maddening. 

“You know, for a genius—” you started, but he kissed you, hungry and sweet like he was making up for lost time, until you’d completely forgotten what you were going to say. 

.

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There is now a sexy follow-up here! 

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If you enjoyed this, please reblog or leave a message! 

#cmbingo21 #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader fic

[galaxywhump]

Proper Introductions

[Masterlist]

Dusted off another old WIP, so here’s a continuation of Wrong Place, Wrong Time.

cw: hero/villain whump, winged villain whumpee, hero whumper, defiant whumpee, manhandling, captivity, restraints, police, forced name change, dehumanizing name, referenced drugging, trophified.

~~~

He was handled like cargo, sedated while Bradley dealt with formalities, and when he was finally allowed to sober up he wasn’t even given any time to process the revelation of what was going to happen to him; instead he was unceremoniously thrown in the back of a van, wrists and wings restrained. The officers handling him weren’t wearing uniforms, and the van was unmarked, a clear sign that whatever was happening to him was no longer official and constrained by protocols.

It didn’t instill him with optimism, to say the least.

He was a criminal, of course, and now that he got caught he knew he wouldn’t be treated as anything else, but he’d never considered being handed over directly to the hero who had defeated him, who would be given free rein.

Stop being paranoid, he scolded himself, stretching his legs out as he sat up. He wanted to lean against the side of the van, but with his wings folded up and pinned together he couldn’t do so comfortably, so he decided against it. He winced when the van hit a rock or a pothole and his temporary prison swayed. He’s a hero. He must have some kind of a moral code, even-

Even though he had effectively trophified him.

He exhaled and fixed his eyes on the headliner as the van continued its trip, one-way for him. He cursed under his breath and his heartbeat picked up the pace when they briefly came to a halt, raised voices sounded outside, then the van revved up again and, judging by the sound, the asphalt gave way to gravel.

He was scared. He didn’t want to be, he shouldn’t be - risk was, after all, what he operated in, he knew how to keep his cool when faced with danger - but there was no denying that he had never felt more fear.

The van stopped definitively, the engine powered down. There were voices again, doors slamming, footsteps of someone circling the car until they reached the back door, and Oscar had to turn his face away when light flooded the dark space.

“Get out.”

For just a moment he wanted to refuse, but he knew there was no good way out of this, and him staying inside could be taken as a sign of cowardice rather than defiance. He got up, almost losing his balance, his body still accustomed to the swaying of the van, and leapt down from the back with as much nonchalant energy as he could muster. The officer immediately grabbed his arm, holding him in place.

Oscar looked around, keeping his chin up. There were a few people staring at him; the officers, three more tough-looking people in black button-up shirts, and, finally, Bradley McKenna himself, lighting up the driveway with what seemed to be a genuine smile that gave Oscar a sliver of hope. He quickly looked away from Oscar, though, and the feeling of being nothing more than cargo came back with full force when the button-ups - no doubt security workers of some kind - approached him and the officer handed him over to them with a nod. Two of them grabbed his arms with way more force than necessary and began to lead him away from the van. He strained his neck to see what was happening behind him and caught a glimpse of Bradley conversing with the officers, his posture relaxed, before the third security guard caught up and obstructed Oscar’s view.

He gave an experimental pull, squirmed a bit, but all it got him were fingers digging into his arms until they hurt and a light kick to the shin, so he settled on sulking in silence, taking in the sight of the house he was being led towards. It was huge and modern, clear cut angles, white pain and wooden panels, obscenely large windows, even a damn swimming pool to the left, which he noticed out of the corner of his eye. It looked like a house from a brochure, an unattainable dream that was hard to imagine anyone could afford.

It didn’t surprise him one bit that Bradley lived in a house like this.

What he was being taken to, however, was a garage, and there was a part of him that found having to awkwardly stand still while the door slowly opened almost amusing. They led him in - there was no car, or cars, judging by the capacity of the garage, only a few shelves with everything and anything, spare tires, a workbench, and a few metal stools.

There were also chains, almost comical, thick and rusty with heavy daunting manacles, already waiting for him.

“Rustic”, he commented, barely able to hear his own voice over the beating of his heart. No one laughed. He was held still while the third security guard crouched down and closed the manacles on his ankles, making sure it was secure with a tug on the chain.

Then they left him alone, just like that. He followed them with his gaze; he wanted to make another comment, anything to appear more collected than he really was, but words were stuck in his throat, so he watched the garage door close, sealing him inside, in silence.

“Alright”, he muttered under his breath, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, looking down at his restraints. First he gave the short chain of the handcuffs a pull - it felt almost dainty, thin, like it should be severed easily, but of course it couldn’t. He tried his legs next, shuffled his feet and grimaced at the weight of the chain and the sound it made when it was dragged across the floor. He didn’t know what he was counting on, and yet his stomach sank when the reality of being restrained like this, with nothing to do but wait for Bradley to tell him what he was going to do to him, dawned on him.

He looked at the workbench, way out of the range the length of the chain allowed, and frowned. It almost felt teasing, knowing that there must be tools in there that could help him break free, until he realized that they could also be used for torture, and fear struck again. He averted his gaze, let it wander over the shelves, the spare tires, canisters, work clothes which he doubted were Bradley’s. He considered trying to pull one of the stools closer, but didn’t do that in the end. He’d done enough sitting when they were keeping him drugged.

Is he even going to come here?

The uncertainty was already killing him. He forced himself to focus on minute details, counting the canisters, following the pattern of the tiled floor with his gaze, measuring the space he could freely move in. He was in the middle of counting the tiles when the door connecting the garage to the rest of the house opened and Bradley came in, hands in pockets, and the same genuine smile appeared on his face when he locked eyes with Oscar, who gave him a hard stare in return.

“Heya”, he started in a conversational tone, closing the door behind him, but not coming closer, staying well out of Oscar’s reach. “Glad you finally got here.”

“What the hell do you want?” Oscar asked, his frown deepening. He stayed still as a statue, not breaking eye contact, chin still raised, and he noted that the two of them seemed to be roughly the same height - at least Bradley wouldn’t get to tower over him.

Bradley cocked his head to the side and didn’t answer - instead two things happened simultaneously when he took a step forward and Oscar’s handcuffs yanked his hands upwards like they had a mind of their own, pulled until he stumbled and was forced to turn around, and pinned his wrists to the metal frame of one of the shelves, high enough that he was unable to move, almost standing on his toes, his arms straining.

He struggled, tried to pull back, fight the invisible force, but its hold was strong, and then his fate was sealed when he heard the clinking of another chain, this one with a lock, which floated up, neatly connected the handcuffs to the frame, and locked itself, securing his hands in place. All he could do was look back over his shoulder to watch Bradley with narrowed eyes as he approached.

“What do you want?” he repeated. The plastic tape dug into his wings when they twitched, stopped in his instinctual attempt to stretch them out to shield himself.

“Just to get to know you!” Bradley laughed, disappearing from Oscar’s field of vision, and he flinched violently when he felt his hand on his wings.

“Hands off!”

“They’re dyed, aren’t they? Your wings.”

He squirmed, trying to get away from the touch, but he was trapped, trapped like he’d been ever since he got caught, barely able to move in a way that mattered. Defeated, immobilized, helpless when there was an unpleasant - but not really painful - popping sensation when Bradley ripped out one of his feathers.

“Hey!” he protested, his words once again falling on deaf ears. Bradley rubbed the feather between his fingers and smiled seeing the powdery black residue.

“Hm. There go my name ideas.” Oscar tensed up again when Bradley patted him on the shoulder. “But we’ll find something else.”

“Something- The hell?”

He heard footsteps, a deafening echo in the mostly empty garage, and once again he tried - and failed - to crane his neck to see what was going on behind him. There were strange sounds he couldn’t identify, probably tools of some kind, and that combined with Bradley’s words turned his unease into unbearable fear.

“I doubt they cared about keeping you clean there, so let’s take care of that before I show you to your room, alright?”

There were so many confusing messages and stimuli, the primary fear, name ideas, your room, the sounds, that for a split second he just felt overwhelmed - which made the sensation of freezing cold water hitting his back with enough force to pin him to the shelves all the more shocking.

He cried out, uselessly tugging at the handcuffs to get away from the jet of water, but there was no escape. He was already shivering, his clothes soaked, his wings getting heavy with water, weighing him down.

And Bradley laughed, no doubt upon seeing their real color.

“I think I’ve found a name for you, buddy!”

“I already have a n-name, buddy”, Oscar snapped, his teeth chattering from the piercing cold.

“Yeah, now you do.”

After what felt like an eternity, during which the high-pressure water was washing off even the most persistent specks of the dye, it halted at last, and Oscar could swear he got even colder. He let his head hang low, taking deep shaky breaths, while Bradley coiled up the hose to put it away. For a few moments the only sounds were the happy tune he was humming to himself and the dripping of water, amplified by the echo chamber of the garage. Then his footsteps joined as he approached until he stopped by Oscar’s side, and he turned his head to look at him, glaring despite how pathetic he looked with water trickling down his face. He jolted in place when Bradley reached around him and ripped another feather out of his sopping wings, then held it in front of Oscar’s face, smiling his annoyingly genuine smile and gently waggling the feather, clean, light yellow in color.

“Nice to meet you, Canary.”

[next]

#hero villain whump #captivity whump #winged whumpee #hero whumper #villain whumpee #defiant whumpee #restrained #manhandling #police tw #dehumanizing language #dehumanization cw #forced name change #drugging mention #oscar welles #bradley mckenna #my writing #really wanted to put this out #so now the general setting is kind of established #and i can branch out #there should be a few other chronologic pieces #then it's drabbles based on loose ideas time babey

[bratkook]

one chance. (m) knj. teaser.

pairing. flash!namjoon x reader genre. fluff, angst, smut, superhero!au word count. approx 20k warnings. light hearted, some fighting (not graphic), mentions of character death (also not graphic...or permanent), mutual pining, namjoon is an adorably sweet dork !! smut: tbd as i write! but ofc filthy summary. namjoon knows he only has one chance to go back and make things right, but is he prepared to live with the potential consequences that his actions could cause? note. this was going to be part of a bts super hero collab that fell through (& i hope the author’s involved still post their fics) i’m about halfway through writing it and hope this will give me the motivation to finish it lmao. i might do a tag list if anyone is interested?? lmk muah.

The searing pain is felt before Namjoon even hits the floor, shooting down his fingertips when he attempts to move them, making his shoulder ache with each breath he takes. The plastic drums he had just collided into—an impact at a speed they weren’t designed to withhold—lay tattered in bits and chunks all around him, cold water that would typically be held inside them now spilled out and soaking into his suit. 

A hiss escapes his lips as he remains on the wet floor, already hearing the rushing footsteps approaching him. “It’s broken!” he shouts out, wincing when he once again attempts to move his arm. “Why isn’t it healing if it’s broken?”

When you and Hoseok finally reach him, you breathe a sigh of relief. From the absolute chaos his crash had caused, you were expecting to see him a lot more battered and bruised. Instead he lay on his side, hand gently cradling his aching shoulder with a grimace on his face. 

“Holy shit, that was awesome.” Hoseok barely spares a glance at Namjoon, overstepping him to assess the damage caused, tapping away at the screen of his tablet as he does so, checking the speed data he had captured. 

“You told me these would hold,” Namjoon grumbles, foot kicking a nearby scrap of plastic, another groan leaving him when his shoulder throbs. 

“That was just a guess.” Hoseok brushes him off, continuing to type away as he circles the crash scene. He only approaches Namjoon to pluck the Go-pro off his head, pocketing it with a sheepish smile on his face. 

With a subtle eye roll, you’re crouching down to meet Namjoon’s body, hands gently reaching out to see what the problem was. He lets his hand fall from it’s protective position, eyes squeezing shut as he waits for the burst of pain to come, jaw clenching when your fingers press along his shoulder, clearly feeling the way it had popped out of place. 

“It’s not healing because it’s not broken.” Namjoon finally opens his eyes now, peering up at you and gulping when he realizes just how close you are. He can clearly see the worry in your eyes as you try to see just how bad it is, a crease between your brows that he wants to rub out with the pad of his thumb, small frown on your lips that only makes him feel worse for going against your warning of this being a bad idea. 

A small huff spills from your lips once you realize you won’t be able to help him until you’re back at the lab without this suit—a suit that Hoseok calls his pride and joy—covering him up. “It’s dislocated. You probably tore some ligaments and tendons, but those will heal up just fine once we pop it back into place.”

“Wait, is that gonna hurt?” he whines out, huffing out the strands of his brown hair that had fallen over his face and gasping in pain when you purposely prod at the swollen joint with a small glare. 

“I’ll make sure it does so you remember to never go against my warnings.”

“Oh god, you’re doing this on purpose!” Namjoon yells, sat on the cold chair, knees pulled up as he braces for the pain. 

“I told you I was,” you smirk, extending his arm out, hands placed against his palm with the other on his trap muscle to get a good grip. The loose threads of his suit tickle his skin, a product of you cutting the fabric to double check that the only thing wrong was in fact his dislocated shoulder. 

Did you actually have to cut it? No. This was just your childish way of getting back at Hoseok for convincing Namjoon to do this. 

The grimace never leaves his face as you stretch the limb out, twisting it slowly to the right angle before pulling back with a slight pop once it settles back into its rightful spot. 

He feels the relief instantly, tense muscles relaxing as he sags back into the chair, face no longer contorted in pain when you gently lower his arm. Namjoon swears he’s never felt better, already able to lift his arms as if nothing ever happened, the torn tendons quickly repaired and back to normal thanks to his regenerative ability.  

“Good to go. If you pop it out of place again you’re gonna have to do it yourself.”

“Yeah right. I’ll just have Hoseok do it for me.”

Right on cue, a crash sounds out behind you, followed by a shout and an apology as Hoseok picks up whatever gadget he was currently working on. 

“You sure about that?” you question with a smug smile, crossing your arms under your chest as you step back. As smart and helpful as Hoseok was, his mind was far too focused on the technology surrounding him. If Namjoon seriously injured himself, the only person who would know what to do, was you. 

He knew this, and sometimes he liked that fact, not opposed to the way you’d constantly worry about him—totally choosing to ignore the reason why you did so was because it was your job. That tiny factor in the equation was tucked into the back of his mind. His small crush was innocent, and if looking forward to seeing what color lipstick you’d wear that day helped him deal with getting poked, questioned, and forced to run on a treadmill to document his speed, then that's fine by him. 

“I won’t dislocate my shoulder again. I promise.” 

Something about the smile on his face does nothing to ease your worry, and as Hoseok emerges from his room with a giddy laugh, you feel the need to pry. 

“What the hell were you trying to do anyway?”

“I think we’re close!” Hoseok announces, your question being brushed aside as he thrusts his tablet into Namjoon’s now fully mobile arms. The only thing lighting up the screen is a skew of numbers along with a diagram and some fancy looking animated figure that slightly resembled himself. It meant nothing to Namjoon so he doesn’t bother trying to decipher it, looking back up at Hoseok with a confused expression. 

“I don’t think me making those plastic drums explode got us any closer.” A small shiver courses through him as he recalls the pain from his shoulder once more. 

“Oh yeah, that was pointless. But I think I figured out another way.” Hoseok grabs the tablet once more, tapping a few more times before another animation fills the screen. Peering over his shoulder you spot what it is, a golden animation of what looks to be a treadmill, swirls flowing on either side of them that you believe to represent wind. 

“Another way for what?” You question again, not liking the sly look on Hoseok’s face. 

“Time travel.” He says it so casually, not even sparing you a glance as he flips the tablet over to show Namjoon. 

That wasn’t what you were expecting. When you had walked in on Hoseok pitching the idea to Namjoon, wanting to document his full speed, push it further to see what more he was capable of, you thought it was just to gather information to help when it came to figuring out a plan of action the next time a meta-human decided to torment the city. 

“Time travel?” you repeat, a displeased look on your face that Namjoon spots instantly. The small wrinkle between your brows is back and he can’t even allow himself to find it adorable because the small glare you were giving Hoseok changes course and stares directly at him. 

“Yeah,” he quietly admits, pressing his lips together gently. His saving grace comes in the form of his phone ringing loudly, cutting through the tense silence and making him jolt in his seat, hands fumbling for the device.

He has never been more thankful to get a call from work, your scolding being directed at Hoseok now, but Namjoon can hear it through his current conversation. The worried tone in your voice is clear as you question Hoseok’s sanity, stating how dangerous time travel could be in the grand scheme of things. Hoseok can only stumble over his words, flustered at being on the receiving end of your lecture. 

Namjoon ends the phone call right on time to hear you shout, “Are you trying to start World War three?!”

“I gotta go…” he whispers, slowly sliding off the chair trying to be as quiet as possible, hoping he wouldn’t be detected. But before he can flash out of there, you’re looking at him again. 

“Not so fast.” He freezes instantly, hands lifted up in front of him. “We’re not done talking about this—“

“I know, but I gotta go. I do have an actual job after all.”

Hoseok glares at Namjoon, “So you’re gonna leave me here to get yelled at...alone?”

Namjoon gives him a guilty smile, shrugging and mumbling out a quick apology before bolting out of there—literally. Your hair flows up at the speed, Hoseok’s shirt flapping wildly, and nearby documents scatter around from the gust of air he had caused. The only thing left behind is the red suit draped across the chair he had been sitting on, flashing out of it and into his regular clothes before leaving to work. 

“What was the Gopro for?” you question. As much as you didn’t like the idea of time travel, you were slightly curious about the entire situation. 

“Just thought it’d be sick to film it. Like imagine if it actually works and we have solid proof?” Hoseok’s eyes glimmer at the prospect of it all, tapping at the screen to replay the footage captured earlier. The two of you have front row seats of Namjoon’s earlier crash, and seeing the chaos along with hearing Namjoon’s grunts of pain a second time makes you glare at Hoseok once again. 

You reach forward and grab the discarded red suit from the chair, balling it up and tossing it at Hoseok’s face. “Patch it up. I had to rip the sleeve to properly see his shoulder.”

He whines loudly as he peels the material off of his face, fingers clutching the precious suit and gasping when he spots the torn area. “You monster!”

#namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #namjoon smut #bts fics #new #teaser

[crispychrissy]

Connected - Part 5

Summary: Y/N comes to and is met with a familiar face, and new things are found out about her past. Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 3632 Warnings: Angst, medical stuff, sassy reader, fluff, A/N: School is in full swing for me so my frequency of posting is going to slow down, but it won't stop completely, I promise. I already have the next chapter laid out and will start writing it as soon as I get some spare time. :) You can also follow this story & others on my Ao3 as well. The series was beta’d by the lovely @idjitmonkey and I hope you enjoy! Please send me an ask if you would like to be tagged in the series. :)

Series Masterlist – Marvel Masterlist

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

The surface under your back felt nothing like the thin stained mattress you’d been sleeping on for weeks, and the light coming from the room beyond your closed eyes was way too bright to be the solitary light bulb hanging in the middle of your cell. Cautiously, you took stock of your body and wiggled your toes, fingers, and slightly shifted your arms and legs. There was a blanket over your body, one you’d never been granted during your captivity, and you immediately opened your eyes.

Which was something you immediately regretted. The bright fluorescent lights stung your eyes, making them water before you closed them again. A soft groan escaped your lips, and shuffling next to you made you freeze.

“Y/N?”

The voice was male, and vaguely familiar somehow? Slowly you blinked your eyes open, glaring at the bright light directly above your bed, before turning your head to the left where the voice came from. You were obviously in a hospital room, but the most shocking part of your change of scenery was the presence of Steve Rogers sitting in a plastic chair next to your bed, a kind smile on his lips.

“Can you understand me?” he asked, eyes studying your face.

“Yeah,” you rasped, coughing at the dryness in your throat you hadn’t registered until now.

Steve reached forward and grabbed a cup of water with a straw in it off a rolling table near the end of your bed and brought it to your lips as you managed to sit up. “Slow sips.”

“Yeah, thanks, mom,” you sassed before taking a sip of water. It took a second for what you had said to register, and your eyes widened before you sheepishly looked up at him while taking another drink and swallowing. “Sorry.”

“S’okay, I can handle some sass,” Steve said with a soft laugh. “Do you need more water?”

You shook your head and he placed the cup on the nightstand next to you, within your reach. “What happened? Did the Army send the Avengers to get me out of there?”

Steve frowned, but quickly schooled his expression with a soft shake of his head. “Not quite. What do you remember?”

When you reached for your memories, you hissed and squeezed your eyes closed, reaching up to clutch your head. “I can’t…” All of your memories were jumbled and seemed to be playing all at once, like hundreds of people trying to tell you a story at the same time. The only thing you did notice was a quiet area of stillness off to one side of your mind, the pain pushing you away each time you tried to focus on it. It was unsettling, and you turned to look at the man sitting next to you. “Captain Rogers… what happened? Where am I?”

“You’re in an Army base in Syria, you’re safe here. And please, call me Steve,” he told you with a smile before straightening in his chair. “I know your thoughts may be scattered, but what’s the last thing you remember?”

The throbbing in your head wasn’t as intense the second time around, and you managed to lock onto a memory of walking through a city surrounded by sand, a camera in your hands. It gave you a starting point, and you slowly followed the thread connecting that moment to the next. Steve was patient while you sorted through what you remembered, each knot of events in the thread becoming more difficult to untangle and get past. Almost ten minutes later, you looked up at him, tears blurring your vision.

“I remember taking pictures,” you said quietly, “but then I was… taken. These men thought I was with the Army trying to spy on them, tried to ransom me back. I told them I wasn’t… but they didn’t listen.” You swiped at your cheeks with the back of your hand, brushing the tears away. “They hurt me,” you looked down at the bandages on your arms, “and I kept… saying… something they didn’t like?”

“You did,” Steve confirmed, plucking a tissue from the box on the rolling table and passing it to you. “Do you remember what you said?”

Untangling the knot in this part of the thread took a few moments, and you were getting closer to that dark area, but the words rang loudly in your head and sent ice through your veins. “Oh my god, I said… Cap—er, Steve, I’m so sorry. Is that why you’re here? I don’t know him, I just… they wanted a soldier, so I kept saying the name of the strongest one I could think of.” Your eyes widened and you tried to backtrack. “I mean, I’m not saying you’re not strong or anything, but I was kinda delirious and I memorized his information back when I was in school and it was—”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Steve interrupted you softly, trying to stifle his smile. “I didn’t take it personally. The Army didn’t find a connection between you and Bucky, and we figured you kept saying his name, rank, and service number like soldiers are trained to do when they’re under duress so you could get through the worst of it.”

You snorted. “After they started really torturing me, yeah, I said it because of that. At first, it was just out of snark to piss them off. They wanted a soldier, so I gave them one of the best I know.”

Steve laughed, shaking his head. “And I think Bucky will be kinda proud of that.” The color must have drained from your face, and Steve was instantly alert. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Is he here?” you blurted out, unsure if you were ready to know the answer, let alone what answer you’d prefer.

“He is,” Steve said, still alert but more waiting for your reaction rather than responding to your distress.

“Oh,” you whispered, picking at the fabric of the blanket on your lap. “Is… is he mad?”

Steve frowned, his eyebrows pinching together. You knew there had to be more of the story based on his expression, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to know what else happened. “Why would he be mad?”

“I used his information, his name… he was kidnapped, tortured, and brainwashed by Hydra for decades.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “I’m just a photographer that was at the wrong place at the wrong time and got taken for a few weeks. Not even close to what he went through.”

“Y/N,” Steve said softly, reaching out to gently place his hand over yours, stopping your fidgeting and making you look up at him, “Bucky’s glad he gave you strength when you were in need. There’s just… other things that happened.”

Dread settled over your mind like a frozen blanket. “What? What did I do?”

“Don’t jump ahead of yourself, just think back. What’s the last thing you remember?” Steve asked.

The further you tried to progress on the thread of memories, the closer you got to the dark area, and the harder the knots in the thread became to untangle. The memories were mostly of violence, knives and fists marring your skin narrated by whispered words of Sergeant Barnes’ name. The last knot in the thread before the dark area was an odd memory, and it filled you with a kind of unsettling warmth you’d never experienced before.

“I remember one of the men, he was... digging a knife into my leg, I remember it hurt so bad, felt like it was on fire. He was saying stuff to me, like how he wanted to,” you cleared your throat, “keep me as a pet soldier, like how Hydra had one. I don’t… my whole body felt like I had been electrocuted, everything was tingling and there was this flash of images in my head. Then I felt warm all over, and the last thing I remember before everything went black was grabbing the hilt of the knife where it was sticking out of my leg.” Your eyes widened in horror and you stared at Steve, tears blurring your vision. “What did I do? Please, I need to know.”

Steve scrubbed a hand down his face and sat back in his chair. “I’m not going to lie to you, Y/N. We, or at least some of the smartest people I know, think you may have somehow connected to Bucky… psychically. The trauma of being tortured and held prisoner might have activated a dormant mutant or enhanced ability.”

“What?” you whispered. “I’m… what?” The sheer thought of you having some kind of powers like that was ridiculous, and you had to force yourself to not laugh. “That makes no sense.”

“It took us a bit to figure out, but Dr. Austin thinks that because you were in a desperate situation, your abilities manifested to save your life, and allowed your mind to link to someone you’d been thinking about, regardless of distance.” Steve took a deep breath and exhaled slowly out of his nose. “A lot of the science and technical side of it is way beyond my range of understanding, but basically she thinks that since your power was new and born out of a survival instinct, it didn’t know when or even how to break the link between you and him. Bucky’s consciousness and memories, whether it was due to his own enhanced abilities or his previous trauma being so intense, began to take over your mind.”

“So… Sergeant Barnes… possessed me?” you asked. The explanation sounded plausible, however improbable, but seeing as how there were now space aliens and wizards on Earth, nothing really sounded impossible nowadays. “Is that why I have no memory until I woke up a few minutes ago? How long was I… how long did he have control over me?”

Steve raised his hands to calm you, obviously sensing or maybe even hearing your heartbeat begin to gallop wildly in your chest. “Bucky wasn’t controlling you, Y/N. He didn’t ‘possess you’,” Steve made air quotes with his fingers, “in the way you’re thinking. Your mind was suppressed and his mind was feeding you his memories only. You were experiencing them as if you were Bucky. He wasn’t controlling what you were doing; the similar reactions you had to things he’d experienced were due to those memories and the PTSD that came from them.”

You blinked a few times, your mouth slightly open. Theoretically it made sense, but it felt like Steve was describing some kind of science fiction movie to you, not explaining something that had happened to you. “I’m so confused.”

Steve chuckled. “Yeah, I was too. It’s a lot to take in. To simplify it and use Bucky’s words, you were essentially trapped in some kind of virtual reality in your mind, living out his past memories, and you couldn’t take off the headset. You have no memory of what occurred after you linked with Bucky because his memories were providing the knowledge you needed… your brain didn’t make its own.”

Even though Steve was doing a good job explaining things, you knew there had to be something he wasn’t telling you; you could always tell when people were dancing around a truth they were avoiding. You looked down at your lap and began to rub the blanket between your fingers again, ignoring how the fabric had begun to pill due to the friction. “Did I kill someone?”

Steve was silent for a few seconds before he heaved a heavy sigh. “Yes. The four men that were holding you captive. Based on how they were killed, we think you used information from Bucky’s memories and training to kill them.”

“I didn’t hurt anyone else, did I?” you asked quietly. While the idea of killing anyone made your stomach clench and sent bile rising in the back of your throat, your captors were far from innocent, and if it made you a bad person to not feel too much sympathy for those men, then so be it.

“No, not that we know of,” Steve said. “According to the Army rescue team that was sent to investigate the store—good thinking with the Morse code, by the way—they found you sitting calmly in the corner of the room you must have been kept in. Bucky seems to think that, if you were going off of his memories and instincts while he was the Winter Soldier, you were likely waiting for a Hydra extraction team. It’s what he would have done after the, uhhh, the targets were eliminated. Lieutenant Weasley, the leader of that Army rescue squad, said the moment he told you the mission was over, you dropped unconscious, just like how Bucky was conditioned to do as well.”

As Steve was talking, you were trying to reach into your mind, trying to pull anything from the dark spaces in your memories. Each time you tried, you were only met with a black canvas where memories should have been, throbbing in your head, and silence… no fragments or flashes of any kind of recollection of the events Steve was explaining. Ignoring the increasing pain behind your eyes, you tried to reach back further, and an odd flash of a memory you didn’t recognize assaulted your mind’s eye.

“Did you...” You stopped abruptly, eyebrows furrowing as you tried to make sense of what you just saw. “Did you used to feed stray cats on the fire escape of an apartment? One of the cats… an orange named Rusty? Named him after—”

“One of the guys that worked with Bucky down at the docks,” Steve finished for you, his voice light with disbelief. “How did you know that?”

You lifted your head and locked watery eyes on Steve. “I… don’t know.” You winced, grabbing your head, the throbbing and sharp pain starting to compound and intensify. “Ah, I can’t—”

“It’s okay,” Steve soothed as he stood up, helping you lie back down before pulling the blanket up to your chest, almost tucking you in. “Get some rest. Don’t hurt yourself trying to remember things, you’ll get there.”

The urge to fight being babied welled up in your body, but the mental strain and resulting exhaustion had finally caught up with you. You made a weak unhappy noise of protest, which Steve chuckled at, before you allowed yourself to drift off into a much more peaceful darkness than the one plaguing your memories.

***

Steve rejoined Bucky, Tony, and Dr. Austin in one of the conference rooms down the hallway from the doctor’s office, and rehashed what little information he’d gathered from his conversation with Y/N. The confusion and gaps in memories they expected, but when Steve mentioned her comment about the stray cat he used to feed, Bucky’s eyes went wide.

“That’s impossible,” Bucky breathed out, shaking his head and trying not to squeeze the life out of the leather chair he had his hands braced against. “That was back in… what, ‘38? A few years after your mom died? You and I were the only people living in that place, Steve. Even my ma didn’t know about those cats.”

“Well, Y/N was able to recall your memories and training in order to kill her captors, it makes sense that she might have seen or absorbed other memories at the same time without knowing.” Dr. Austin leaned her elbow against the conference table and rubbed her forehead. “The mental strain of Sergeant Barnes’ memories on top of these abilities being new to her… she might not know how to separate things, or her memories are jumbled with yours.”

“You said the link was broken, right, doc?” Tony asked, tapping away on one of his Stark tablets, murmuring things to FRIDAY once in a while under his breath. “Buckinator over here isn’t feeding our Sarah Connor any more memories?”

Bucky scowled and he winced when he heard the leather of the chair begin to rip under his metal fingertips. “I wasn’t sent to kill her, asshole,” he grumbled.

Tony looked at Bucky over the top of his tablet and blinked in disbelief. “Barnes got a pop culture reference. Did you all hear that? FRIDAY, make a note in my calendar. I think we need to petition Ellis for a new national holiday.”

“Tony,” Steve sighed, ignoring the subsequent rambling about press releases coming from Tony in favor of looking over at the doctor. “Dr. Austin, they aren’t linked anymore, right?”

“No, I confirmed with brain scans on both Y/N and Sergeant Barnes. Their level of brain activity is back to baseline, or at least, whatever baseline should be for a super soldier and a new psychic.” Dr. Austin pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, staring off in the distance.

Steve had seen this look before in both Tony and Bruce when they were trying to figure out something in their head, or trying to piece together clues, and knew it could last for a while. “Doctor?” Steve prodded her gently.

“Oh,” Dr. Austin said, starting slightly, giving Steve an embarrassed smile. “Sorry, I was just thinking… I have an acquaintance I may be able to reach out to. Psychic abilities and how to control them are quite out of my wheelhouse, medical studies can only get us so far. I worked with this professor and his team a few times in the past on classified projects when I was freelancing, and he might be able to offer some advice.”

“Anything that could help,” Steve said with a nod, his eyes tracking Dr. Austin as she excused herself from the room, her cell phone already in her hand. Steve looked over at Bucky, seeing the same defeated expression he’d worn on his face for months after he’d broken free of Hydra. “Buck, you gotta quit blaming yourself.”

“Why do people think doing or not doing something in their head is as easy as flipping a damn switch?” Bucky growled angrily, making Steve’s head jerk back at the sudden aggression. Bucky’s face relaxed and he grunted softly, dropping into the chair he was just squeezing. “Sorry.”

“S’okay, I get it,” Steve murmured, “it’s been a long day. How are you feeling anyways?”

“Physically? Fine. The hunger’s gone and I’m not exhausted anymore. Mentally?” Bucky snorted, ducking his chin. “How would you feel if someone accidentally linked minds with you and your brain made them relive you going into the ice over and over again? Or made them relive you getting sick a bunch when you were a kid?”

Steve sat down in the seat next to Bucky and sighed. “I would hate it, but it was an accident, Buck. Nothing you could have done to prevent it.”

“Doesn’t make him any less stupid for running into Y/N’s room alone like that,” Tony said, suddenly standing behind the two men. “You’re lucky I had my suit’s gauntlet wristwatch on me and pulled you back. Touching her could have killed you. Killed you both.”

Bucky knew it was a longshot, and the helplessness he felt knowing Y/N was stuck inside his memories spurred him into action. After being Hydra’s pawn for decades, he made a vow to never feel that helpless again if he could. “Yeah, well, it didn’t. I thought that if she was reliving my memories, then seeing me could snap her out of it. Like… waking her up from a nightmare.”

“Like a glitch in the Matrix. Smart,” Tony said the word like it physically pained him, “I guess.”

“Whether we agree about Bucky’s methods or not, it worked. The Army is going to want to debrief Y/N when she wakes up, but based on what I’ve gathered, she doesn’t have any memories of actually killing her captors. Her recollection ends moments after one of the guys stabbed her in the leg with a knife.”

“Probably the same guy who got the bladed uppercut that was found in the room she was being held in,” Bucky mused, recalling the photos in the file they were given. “Good riddance. Who knows what they would have done to her if she hadn’t killed them.”

The three men sat in silence for several long moments, each going over varying degrees of horrible scenarios which could have played out instead. Dr. Austin’s voice drifted in from the hallway, steadily getting louder as she approached the conference room again, drawing each of their attentions to the doorway.

“... thank you again, Charles. I’ll let you know the next time I’m back in New York,” she said with a smile before lowering her phone and tapping the screen to end the call. Dr. Austin raised a brow at the distressed and pensive looks spread across Tony, Steve, and Bucky’s faces, but decided not to ask.

“Any news from your friend, Doc?” Tony spoke up first.

“Yes,” Dr. Austin replied, tucking her cell phone into her white coat. “He confirmed that Y/N is in fact a mutant, but there’s something else.”

When Dr. Austin didn’t continue immediately, Tony flailed his arms up in the air. “Well? Were you pausing for dramatic effect or something?”

Dr. Austin rolled her eyes and ignored Tony’s outburst. “He was able to do a non-invasive read of her mind.” When all three men opened their mouths at once, Dr. Austin raised her hands, stopping them from whatever protests they were going to make. “Gentlemen, I assure you, the professor is an expert and powerful psychic himself, he knows what he’s doing. He told me that someone has manipulated her memories.”

Bucky blinked. “Well, yeah… isn’t that what happened when she accidentally linked with me? We already know this.”

“No, not recent memories,” Dr. Austin explained. “Her entire childhood has been wiped and rewritten.”

***

Connected Tags: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @that-one-gay-girl @fanofalltheficsx @joseyrw @lana-writes-04 @gia-25 @klanceiscannon14 @ahahafudge @genderfluid-ho

#connected #bucky barnes x reader #marvel series #marvel fanfic #reader insert #part 5 #bucky x reader #mutant!reader #angst #medical stuff

[plush-rabbit]

Home

Word Count: 3K

A/N: Sweet Home came out today and I’m screaming

He hears you singing. It's loud and a bit off a key, but you sound like you're having fun. You're singing at the top of your lungs, giving a full performance to no one and when he walks into the room, you're sitting on your office chair, holding an empty water bottle to your lips while you arch your back and hit the final note, a wide smile gracing your features as you take a bow in front of your screen. His eyes soften, and turn into a smile that grows wider when you open your eyes and jump as you notice him.

“Tomura!” You squeak, the bottle falling onto your lap. You scramble to pause the music, the next song already beginning the first few notes and his eyes widen, a knowing smile on his face as he catches you in the act. “When did you get here?”

It’s a pitiful attempt to change the conversation, to bulldoze past what he just saw and he wants to tease, to poke fun at the over-the-top performance and beg for another, to tease until you hid your face and beg for more, to hear the melody that was sung. But from the way your legs bounce and the strained smile, he offers you peace.

“Just a bit ago,” he rasps out, leaning against the doorframe. “Have you already watched the show?”

You shake your head. “Been waiting for you,” you smile at him, letting your laptop go to sleep. “Are you sure you want to watch it with me?”

He shrugs half heartedly and peels away from the doorframe, rolling his shoulders, fingers flexing and cracking as he moves them. “If I get to spend time with you-” he turns his head and there’s a faint dust of red that fills his cheeks- “I’m okay with watching what you want.”

He lets out a grunt when you hug him, face pressed against him, lips that flutter over his neck and his arms are quick to wrap around you, hands curling over your shirt and wrinkling it in the process, only to loosen and smooth it over.

“You’re the best, you know,” you mumble onto him, giving him a final kiss before you pull away. “Did you eat already?” He nods, hands slipping to hold you by the hips, feeling the soft fabric of your joggers, the wrinkled waistband bumping under his fingertips. “Okay, I ordered take out but there should be leftovers if you get hungry.” You give him a cute grin and pull away. His arms fall to his side for a brief moment before you grab onto a hand. You hold onto him without fear and he walks behind you, eyes focused to how your hand slips into his perfectly, your thumb sliding over his skin.

The trek to your living room is perfectly etched into his mind. He knows which floorboard squeaks, the corners that he has to avoid, the pictures that hang on the wall and past the dining table that holds a vase with plastic flowers- something he had given to you long ago as a gift- something that he still finds himself staring at whenever he enters your home, a gift that makes him think too hard about you and makes his chest ache with something familiar and unfamiliar. It’s a simple gift- something that he had put thought into because he felt that he owed you something. It was a gift that made you flap your hands and throw your arms around his neck and pepper his face with quick kisses. He promises himself to get you actual flowers one day.

You collapse onto the couch and he follows suit, already leaning against a cushion and resting his arm against an arm rest, the red blanket that he secretly adores is draped behind the couch and he tugs on it, letting it spill between the two of you as you crawl backwards until your back hits the armrest and your legs extend outward. He gives a questioning look and he’s only met with a smile.

You bounce excitedly as the series starts to play, the imagery flashing on the screen and you croon about how beautiful it looks, the differences made and characters that you can’t recall. You voice your wonders if it’s been that long since you read the comic or if the adaptation is going in a slightly different direction. You’re enamored with the series, a giddy smile as the main character appears, patting your thighs rapidly and he gives interest to the screen, often returning his eyes back to you, a quick glance to fuel himself. His glances take you in, watching the smile linger on your face, the winces at the gore only to shake your legs in excitement at what comes next.

He watches you. Eyes that trail down the curve of your face, follow at the lashes that extend and lips that part and move in silent words, lips that widen into a grin and he knows that you must sense his stares, that you can feel the way that his eyes linger on you and yet you remain quiet, watching the screen flash colors and illuminate you in a dim yellow to a dark blue and for now, he’s home. For now, as he turns his attention to the screen, he’s home and he’s watching an adaptation with you and he knows that when your eyes are too heavy to continue, mind that has grown foggy with sleep, you’re still going to talk about the comic, you’ll lay your head on his shoulder, intertwine your hands with his and you’ll mumble spoilers, yawning as you talk about the growth of characters and he’ll feel your hand tense when you mention death and he’ll lull you to sleep with a kiss to your temple. But for now, his eyes stay glued to the screen, deep in thought and paying half attention as his mind lingers on the eventual outcome of date night.

You clear your throat. “Hey-” you nudge at his thigh with your foot, the blanket stretching and lowering past your chest- “Tomura.”

“Hm?” He hums, sparing you a glance before returning his attention back to the screen.

“I-uh," you laugh nervously and look away from him, bringing up your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around, “I uh, can- can I kiss you?"

His eyes widen, and he turns his attention away from the show, the colors illuminating his face in a soft glow that flashes into different colors. “You can always kiss me, dumbass-” the corner of his lip twitches and his gaze hardens for a quick second before softening, “we're dating.”

“No, no,” you pause trying to find your words, “like I- fuck. Okay-” you shake your hands and take a deep breath. Your eyes meet his and he can sense a waver in how your breath shakes. "I want to kiss you- like all over your face, like just a ton of kisses.” You swallow and your brows furrow, a line pulled tight at your lips and heat starts to pool in your back. You stiffen and your hands curl and scratch at the blanket. “Is that weird?”

Red eyes blink and a calloused hand brushes hair out of his fair, tugging it behind an ear, a few of the shorter strands falling and curving around his face. “Why?”

Your face flushes and your mouth grows dry, your tongue peeks out to wet at your lips. “I don't know,” you whisper harshly, scratching your neck, a habit that you’ve now picked up from him. “I just- I saw how pretty you looked all focused and I just want to kiss you and stuff,” you chuckle nervously, a tight grip around your chest.

“Stuff?” He asks with a lilt, smile curving into something amorous, tone heavy with want and he turns to face you, fingers drumming along the armrest.

He takes delight at watching you squirm, your legs shaking and a nervous smile straining against your face. “Like,” you sigh, a short puff of air breathing past your lips, “hold hands and hug you a lot and ah,” you sigh, “is it getting hot in here or is it just me?" You give a breathless laugh and pull on the collar of your shirt, tossing the blanket off of your lower body.

"Just you,” he says flatly, only to roll his eyes when you frown.

“Well, it feels hot,” you mumble in a pout, pursing your lips together. You look away from him and stare at the screen that has continued to play, watching as the character barely manages to dodge an attack.

“Only because you’re embarrassed,” he says cooly, turning to lay his back against the armrest, legs stretched out in front of him, his feet kicking at your ankles.

“Because of you,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. Your eyes dart to where his legs jut out from the blanket, the soft fabric curving and lumping above him.

“You’re being dumb,” he sighs and returns his attention back to the screen.

“And you’re avoiding the question,” you retort, placing your hand on his leg. You smile softly, the smile lasting only for a few moments before it disappears. “So-” you squeeze your hand around his leg- “can I?”

“I thought you wanted to watch the series? You said you’ve been looking forward to it.” You start to groan out his name, a whine laced around his name only to be cut off. “I’m just stating the truth. No need to throw a fit.” He makes a choking noise and rubs at his neck, fingers curling over old scars. “You really want to?”

“Just kisses,” you say, already crawling over to him, your hands careful around his sides, as your nose brushes along his collarbone, a feather light kiss above him where your lips glide and purse for a moment. “That’s all I’m asking for,” you whisper against his exposed neck, a hand on his chest, feeling how he stutters underneath you, your other hand holding you up, until you come to lay down beside him, forcing himself to make room for you. “Am I allowed to?”

You see how his apple bobs, a harsh swallow as he tries to keep himself controlled under you. “Remind me again why you want to do this?” His voice holds pleading, entangled with his words, curiously nothing but a simple bse as he tries to understand what you gain from this- what your end goal is with your request.

“Tomura,” you whine, pressing yourself further against him and he can feel the warmth you emit from your face and onto his neck. “I just- I don’t know. I like you- like a lot and I just want to kiss you.” You straddle him, a hand entangled in his hair, lips already against his cheek, soft and lightly chapped, against his scarred skin. “Am I allowed to?” Your voice cracks, the hand in his hair tightening softly and there’s a whine in your voice, something that goes beyond you just wanting to be a brat, it holds a whimper to it, a soft begging where you press yourself close against him and breathe heavily against him.

“Yes.” He replies, his hands coming to hold onto your waist and there's a brief moment, where it’s still, the screams fading into nothing but white nose, the silence interrupted by the harsh pulsing of his neck and then your lips are peppering his face.

You press your lips against his cheek, soft and fleeting, nothing more than a brush until you reach the side of his face. Your lips are soft, a few dry creases that do nothing more than brush against him and with each and every kiss that you press against his skin, gentle and a simple brush, they turn harsher, feverish and lovesick as they press down his skin and graze his scars. He lets out a shuddering breath, hands reaching upwards and curving around your body, palms flat and fingers digging into your soft skin until you whine and brush your nose above him in a bunny kiss, mumbling his name under your breath until you pepper kisses on his face. Lips following the scars that adorn him, bunny kisses on his brow bone, followed by soft pecks that curve around and end on the space between. Your hands curve around his head, pulling on his soft strands, breathing heavily above him, your chest shaking and whining with every moment that your lips meet his skin.

Your trail of love loses form and you’re left kissing every inch of his face but his lips. You kiss at the corners, you kiss above and below the scar, you kiss the sweet, little mole but never at his lips, even when you purse and breath above yours. You move to kiss up the bridge of his nose, flutter the tip of your nose against him and the hand knitted in his hair loosens and moves to cradle his neck and he whines at the touch, hands pressing deeper into you and he’s cooing, begging in silent breaths to kiss him- to stop the teasing and to just kiss him. Your lisp trail down the sides of his face and finally, you speak, after minutes of torture, you speak to him in a soft voice, somehting below a whisper and he’s grateful that you’re near his ear, lips brushing against his lobe and curving up the shell as you speak to him.

“Tomura,” you voice wavers and he whines, unable to speak, “I love you,” you mutter against him and when you hide your face in the crook of his neck, lips that purse and kiss at his skin, he can feel tears. “I love you, Tomura.” You kiss and he wonders if you can feel how quick his pulse is, how the blood pumps underneath his skin, how much affect you have on him.

You move around his neck, tears leaving him wet and sliding down to disappear into his chest or onto the couch. You sigh and press kisses onto him, quick and soft to longingly and deep where he can feel you never wanting to part. You press above his apple and he suffocates under your love, whining and begging you to continue. And you’re grateful to continue- to continue your quest to kiss at him where he is exposed, to mark him with your love, to leave his skin peppered with kisses and even if you say nothing, your actions speak for yourself.

His eyes water and bites his bottom lip and wills himself not to cry. He can’t. Not with you here. He won’t allow himself to shed tears. You mean so much to him- the one thing life had offered to him that as a saving grace. You love him. You whispered and showed him that you do. You kiss at every marking that he or life had carved onto his skin and you don’t shy away. You want to touch him. You want him close to you and he does his best to keep the tears on his eyes, to not let them slide and wash away the feeling of your lips on his skin.

Your ceiling is blurry, specks meshed together and your hands are on him and he can still feel your tears on him. He can feel every press of your lips above him and then you cradle his face with a hand as you rise above him. You must notice the tears. You must by the way your head tilts and your smile softens, the tears that catch and shimmer on your lashes and with shaky hands, he wipes away the stray tears. He opens his mouth and all that leaves is a pitiful whine, and then you dip your head down.

You capture him in a soft kiss, pressing yourself close against him until teeth meet and clash against each other, a moan slipping between and you’re hunched above him, a smile gracing your lips as you kiss him and you mouth the words “I love you” before returning to kiss him, kissing him until you pull away for breath and return to meet his eyes.

His eyes have watered and he swallows tightly, bottom lip trembling and he has to confess to you. He has to repeat the words. He does. He loves you. Of course, he does. There’s no doubt in his mind that he has eyes for you and only you. The world could be damned, but as long as he has you by his side, then he’s fine. He’s more than fine. He’s everything good. You gave him everything good.

A croak passes through his cracked lips and his face burns. He loves you. More than you could ever know. He swallows and breathes onto your lips when you kiss him again. Hungrily this time, like the first wasn’t enough, that you could never be satiated with him.

“I-” the words are difficult to say as he whispers, voice small and hesitant- “I-”

You nod. “I know,” you say in a confident whisper. “I love you too.”You peck at his nose and smile sweetly at him. “Thank you,” you tell him as you kiss at his nose and rest your head on his chest, his arms holding you against him until you grab at a hand and pull it up to your lips. He can feel the warmth of your breath fan against his knuckles. “Thank you for being here with me, Tomura.” You kiss at his knuckles, lips dragging and pressing over him, in sweet, love-filled kisses. “Thank you for coming home tonight.” You kiss at his fingertips, smiling into his palm and cradling your face with his hand.

“Always,” he murmurs, blinking rapidly as he presses his lips against the crown of your head. The arm around you tightens and his fingers press into the cotton of your shirt. “I’ll always come back to you.”

#shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura imagine #tomura shigaraki imagines #bnha imagines #im soft #i needed comfort today #hc out tomorrow #hopefully #fun fact #the joke title for this was my little pog champ

[fictionbyafangirl]

Tundric Heart

//Hi, all! After becoming absolutely *obsessed* with the new Mortal Kombat movie, as well as being a fan since the games began, and being a fan of JoTa since I saw The Raid: Redemption when it first came out and since then, I decided my flagship fic shall involve Bi-Han/Sub-Zero. This takes place prior to the film, having nine tournaments been fought. This is a POV-shifter and involves our favorite chilly boi with an original character. Naturally, I own no rights to the franchised character and only write out of my own fun.  I hope you enjoy!\\

Nothing phased him anymore. Bi-Han had lived many centuries, each reinforcing his growing lack of humanity toward the world, whether it be Earthrealm or Outworld. Due to his “gifts”, Bi-Han had become a favorite champion for Shang Tsung in the Mortal Kombat tournaments, successful in more than not and ultimately becoming an attack dog at the sorcerer's will. Despite Bi-Han wanting the Lin Keui to be free-agents once again, himself, primarily, he obliged, knowing he owed Shang Tsung his fealty for the many favors he performed for him in the past. The Lin Keui had been an elite group of assassins for those who could afford them. Either born into the organization or kidnapped as a youngling for the cause, its numbers were always plentiful. Bi-Han and his brother, Kuai Liang, had served the clan well, rising through the ranks. Bi-Han, though, had become the face of the group. The fierce fighter had gained notoriety for defeating the one and only Hanzo Hasashi, as well as the Shirai Ryu, a noble competitor clan in their world of crime. Over four hundred years had passed, yet a looming whisper of a threat still hung in the air from the very fatality that put Bi-Han on the map. Ever the paranoid ruler, Tsung tasked Bi-Han with finding the last remaining Hasashi blood heir and executing them. To the cryomancer, there was simply no point in doing so. He had ended the lineage himself many lifetimes ago. The Hasashi family fell to his hand, and he knew it, first-hand. Still, the soul-eater feared the prophecy of the uprising of Earthrealm defenders to thwart the imminent takeover, if the last tournament should be victoriously won by the mortals with an arcana gift. Nine circuits had been finished in the favor of Tsung, only needing two more to claim supremacy over the mortals. Begrudgingly, Bi-Han found himself in his home-realm on a reconnaissance mission to find out if the myth was true. One thing the warrior loathed was to be undermined, especially by Tsung. His employer had a knack for sending in the reinforcements if the smallest of setbacks occurred. Bi-Han was more than confident in his skill and ability to successfully fulfill his duties. To send in those that were inferior to him was simply a slap in the face. Not a day went by that the assassin didn’t think of a world where he no longer served Tsung.

The man was ageless as he sat across from a run-down diner, concealed in darkness. Darkness had always been his friend, even in the glory days of the Lin Kuei and the chaos they inflicted on their world. Darkness cloaked him in secrecy. Darkness gave him advantage against his opponents. Darkness felt almost as familiar and second nature to him as the cold. It had been a rainy evening, the spray of dingy gutter water spraying up from beneath the tires of those driving muddled the sidewalk. Bi-Han, looking not a single day older than he had when he terminated Hasashi, watched the neon sign that indicated that the diner was “open” flicker against the night. Dressed in black athletic jogger pants, a black zipped-up windbreaker jacket and a black hat with the bill curved and pulled down low to conceal his other-worldly eyes, the man watched from outside an abandoned building that sat adjacent to the diner. Arguably, the only physical trait that had changed about him was the hue of his eyes, shifting from a deep brown to a starkly bright  blue so pale that it nearly looked like ice had formed in his irises. These were the attributes of a cryomancer, and bastard Edenians, alike. Those of Edenian nature aged much slower than humans, living so long that tens of thousands of years was still considered to be in one’s youth. His hair remained raven in color though his skin did grow more pallid as though encrusted in frost, but not. The cryomancers had been banished from Edenia long before Bi-Han’s birth, but the genes that descended from the gods still carried on through himself and his brother, Kuai. Down the block, a group of young men were approaching the corner door of the diner, rowdy and raucous as they walked before ducking into the establishment. Taped hands rose from Bi-Han’s sides to bring the hood of his skim jacket up and over the top of his head, further obscuring his identity. He waited a few minutes to allow them to settle into their normal places to not rouse suspicion before crossing the slick city street. In all of the years of Bi-Han’s life, he had tuned his tracking abilities to be imperceptible.

His intel told him that a group of men, one that bore the mark of the dragon, frequented the very location nightly, as though a ritual amongst the friends. Bi-Han’s head never lifted as the bell on the handle of the door jingled to alert a new customer, and luckily, neither did theirs. His gaze remained to the lower-half of the room to not allow his face to be seen. The fluorescent lights that lined the ceiling in panels glared harshly in contrast against the natural darkness of the night he had waited in. Slipping into a corner table, the plastic-covered stuffing of the seat gave out a subtle hissed as it depressed beneath his weight. The group of men continued their merry occasion, joking and talking with elevated volume. The more attention they brought to themselves and detracted from himself, the better. It didn't take long for the waitress on shift to approach them, seemingly having a report with them as she used their names, engaging in banter with them as they shamelessly flirted with her. Her kind and clever rebuffs and deflection to their order inquiries showed that this was an occasional thing they did. She clearly wasn’t in the business of seeing any of them casually, yet they pushed the envelope with hope. Their nonchalance toward her left little disgust in Bi-Han’s mouth, but still, he surveyed. The fighter spared a moment to take in the new environment. The faded color scheme and furniture showed that the restaurant had not updated in some time, clearly struggling financially to keep afloat to bother with aesthetics. The tables were uneven as they stood and the seating creaked under pressure. The artwork that laid scarcely among the walls were drab and unappealing. Virtually everything that had been a polished metal before now rusted with weak infrastructure. The location was dying out, most likely kept in business by the nightly patronage of the subjects he followed in. 

Bi-Han focused all of his senses on the men, discreetly, as to not be noticed. He eavesdropped on their conversations, watched as they removed their outer-layers for any sign of the marking. He even committed bits of things they said to memory in the off-chance that it would aid him in his mission. His focus was solely on the group and everything they did. His gaze, though hidden beneath the bill of a hat, was fixated without any breaks, that is, until the image of an apron filled with pens and order tablets slid into his view. Bi-Han held his breath as the tell-tale spiel was about to be given to him. 

“Hi, there! I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. My name’s Jill and I’ll be your waitress on duty tonight. What can I get you?” No matter where you went, every restaurant had the same, generic greeting. 

Holding his breath for a moment to consider his response, Bi-Han decided to play it cool, not wanting to garner any awareness of his existence. The woman was polite enough for him to not care about the disruption. While she had been tending to the object of his assignment he had been able to get a good look over on her. She was attractive with cream-like skin and smoky hazel eyes and hair the color of maple that sat in delicate, loose curls that cascaded down the sides of her face. She dressed semi-comfortably in a baggy button-up flannel shirt that she tucked into the waistband of her tapered jeans that clung to her ankles and simple shoes with her apron and a name badge in place. She kept her makeup natural and modest, which was a pleasant thing to come across with women. With an errant hand, Bi-Han, without tipping his face at all, flipped the menu on the table over to quickly peruse the refreshments section. Quickly, his eyes settled on his selection before speaking it aloud to her, though in a low, hushed tone.

“Green tea. Iced.” His tone was short and cold, as per usual with him, and he offered no opportunity to continue the conversation. He was there for a reason, after all.

With a curt nod, Jill fished a dense book of ordering tickets from her apron and a pen to scribble down the table number and order to keep her tabs in-line. Bi-Han could hear the sound of the ball-point pen against the paper, attuning himself to his surrounding once more.

“Iced green tea, coming right up. What’s uh… a name I can put on this order?” The waitress inquired with an arched brow as her teeth found the corner of her lips, nibbling gently in a nervous gesture. Bi-Han took another moment to contemplate his response. His true, given name was something that was well-known. Instead, he improvised.

“Brian.” He was blunt again, cutting to the chase without any inflection to invite casual conversation.

“Right. Iced green tea for Brian, coming right up.” Jill relayed before bouncing away from the table to fulfill his request. She caught on to his tone quickly and read it loud and clear.

Naturally his order was the first one to be completed. Jill returned with his drink in-hand, along with a wrapped straw and a saucer of potential add-ins for the beverage. Bi-Han offered a small nod to thank her, fixating his senses back on the group of men across the room. Absently, he unwrapped the straw and slipped it within the glass, taking absent sips through it to not reveal his face. The preparation in the States certainly didn’t do the authentic drink justice as it did in his native China, but still he managed to swallow it down as he kept his eyes on them. Although the drink had ice in it, it didn’t suit him. His hand reached around the cylinder, his fingers releasing their icy powers to chill it even further, finally making it satisfactory to his liking. Bi-Han sat with his back pressed against the glass window that separated himself from the outside world. The rain continued to fall, pelting against the window pane. He could just as easily end the waiting and watching. He could turn every plunging bead of water into a lethal bullet to litter all of the men in holes, taking care of every lead. Still, he blended into the foreground, motionless and silent.  He wasn’t sure how long the men would lounge in the diner but he would be observing for as long as they would be. Someone was bound to slip and reveal themselves, reveal their arcana… something. If Bi-Han was anything, he was patient.

#Tundric Heart #fanfiction #Mortal Kombat #Mortal Kombat 21 #Bi-Han #BiHan #Sub-Zero #Bi-Han x Original Character #Sub-Zero x Original Character #Bi-Han x OC #Sub-Zero x OC #MK21 #Chilly Boi #chapter 1 #Mortal Kombat Fanfiction #Mortal Kombat 2021 FanFiction

[mumblelard]

bull bay or in the hinge

#i was there for some of the beginning most of the middle and all of the end #be the spare change and colorful bits of plastic you want to see in the world #sacramental pilfering #i never could get the hang of wuersdays #grabbing onto the weeds #rice street #pollinated by beetles #poetry #i want to be a turtle when i grow up #second blue moon epoch #first autumn

[iwannaholdyoutight-]

confessioni di sex shop (a sunlight little story)

This is a little piece I wrote after de Gucci short movie, it followes the story of Harry and Lavignia and her sexual descovery. You can read the one shot here .

It’s Italy Harry, with a dash of the 70s and a lot of sex. You don’t have to read the firsy piece to understand this! Also: pegging!h

Summary: Harry takes Lav to her first sex shop trip and there she descovers a new kink: pegging her boyfriend. 

Word count: 7k 

Preview:

Lavignia knew Harry for a little while but she already knew it was impossible to ever become accustomed to how direct and honest he was about everything. If Harry felt something, he was going to say. If he wants something he’s going to say. There is almost nothing that can make him blush, actually… 

“I think is unfair how you can make me dizzy and unsettled with just a few words and I can never even make you blush” 

“You make me blush all the time, my dear. Just by being being here with me you already make me blush with desire and burn with such a loving feeling” 

“The best part of dating a poet is that every word that leaves his mouth feels like a book that only I can read” 

“You can open me anytime you want, little darling” he said with a mischievous grin “and there is the blush I love so much… where is my kiss, love?” 

“And you can put the painting over there” said the demanding voice of Jesse Fire, one of the gallery owners. Lavignia could see from the corner of her eyesight that Lovelace was rolling her eyes 

“Lance, sweetheart” Lovelace started “you know nothing about art so can you let me and Lav decide?” 

He gave her a sarcastic laugh, oh how Lavignia wanted to hit him. 

“Well I pay for the stuff so I have a say in this”

“My darling I can’t wait for this painting to be here, for the journalist get your pictures next to it so you can finally go back to Rome”

“That’s the price you pay when you need a billionaire to support you little art gallery” he said walking away towards the office.

“Lovelace, I’m so jealous of Vanessa. I mean...” Lavignia started “She’s so lucky to be in honeymoon right now, she doesn’t have to deal with… him” she continued while looking around the books, doing research for the next exbithion “Right now she is in sunny California, going to concerts, fucking all the time… that’s the life”

“Oh wow… two months ago you couldn’t even say “sex” and now you are so freely talking about fucking all the time. What have we done to you” Lovelace said with a small laugh. 

“It’s the energy of this place if you want me to be honest”

“The energy of this place or a certain someone that is loving on you all the time”

“That someone is partly responsible, yeah. But I like to think the change   because of me, and because I wanted to”

“Of course, darling” said Lovelace “and speaking about Harry… how’s the book?”

“I don’t know, he said I can only read it when it’s done… but it’s unfair, how can he call me his muse and just not let me read what he’s writing about me?”

Just like Harry knew they were talking about him, he got into the gallery wearing the shortest jean shorts ever - an only pair of flare jeans that got so worn out that he decided to turn into shorts, but he cut it too short. Lav said for him to just wear the shorts at home, but of course he wouldn’t listen. And now here he was, walking inside his workplace looking out of a porn movie.

“You know I’m starting to think neither of you work, all you do is talk about me” he said getting closer, using his arms to pull Lovelace into a side hug and then walking towards Lavignia with a little plastic pag hanging between his long fingers “Little darling, I got you lunch” he said giving her a sweet kiss on the lips.

“Baby, you didn’t have to…” 

“Lav, the way I know him, he came here to check on Jesse”

“Look the guy is always treating everyone here like shit but …’ his voice got softer “I wanted to see you. I missed you on my bed this morning”

“I happen to own an apartment and I have to sleep there sometimes, Harry”

“I know, I know, darling. But I can’y help but miss you terribly”

Getting closer and closer he gave her a peck, by now Lovelace knew how lost inside their little word they could get when they were together, so she was no longer paying attention to the couple that was kissing sweetly and talking in whispers.

“So” Harry started “You think we can go today?”

“Yeah, I have done so much and Lovelace was talking about getting out early so we didn’t have to deal with Jesse”

“I’m so anxious to take you there, I think it’s going to be a good experience for you… and for me”

“Taking her where?” the obnoxious voice of Jesse sounded from a bit far but was there “You are taking my employee out during working hours”

“You know just Like you I own ¼ of this business and if there is someone that can complain of her leaving early is Lovelace that owns 2/4. So you can just shut the fuck up”

Lav was trying hard not to laugh at his response. She hated Jesse but she loved how much Harry didn’t even try to hide his dislike for the guy, always with the right answers.

“And she can go” Lovelace started “but… if I’m allowed the curiosity, where are you taking her, Harry?

They looked at each other and answered at the same time:

“Shopping” she said.

“A sex shop” he said.

“COME ONE, HARRY” he was laughing at her 

“Darling we are among friends” sparing a cold look towards Jesse Fire he continued “and somewhat people we have to endure. And it’s your first sex shop trip, it’s special”

He talked while helping her put together her stuff so they could leave

“Harry, I didn’t knew we can now work dressed like a little slut” Jesse was trying to get a rinse out of Harry, but today Harry was too happy with Lav to shallow his provocative words

“You are only jealous I look better with these little shorts than any woman you ever tried to fuck”

Lovelace was laughing while Lav was pinching his bum so he could shut up. She really wanted to leave.

“Lav” oh, no. Jesse was now coming for her “you are too beautiful to hang out with someone like Harry. You deserve a manly man”

“Jesse, sweetheart” she said while holding Harry’s hand and walking towards the door without even sparing a glance towards the blonde man “I like my manly man with jeans shorts and colorful skirts, haven’t you heard? It’s easier to fuck, by the way, you should give it a shot” looking up at Harry she could see his green eyes shinning with pride “or maybe…” turning around to look at Jesse, she wanted to humiliate him a little bit “don’t, you would never pull this style of. And by the way: you’re pathetic”.

Walking toward Harry’s yellow BMW she looked at him 

“What a miracle you’re with the car and not the harley”

“I wanted to piss Jesse off”

“I think we did a good job” she told him while getting inside the car with his hand on her back 

“I think we did” bending down he have her a sweet but longer kiss than the ones they shared inside  “now, shall we go to the sex shop, my lady?”

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was high in the sky, the august weather was nice. Lavignia was enjoying the sandwich and strawberry juice Harry had made her while he drove on the coast. From the window she could see kids and their family playing with them by the beach, beautiful girls wearing only a bikini and walking around with their colorful rollerblades. 

The radio was playing some romantic song in Italian, she could hear the faint voice of Harry humming along some of the words, with a hand on the steering wheel and the other holding her thigh. With his green eyes covered by yellow ray bans, Lavignia wanted to know what he was thinking. 

“A kiss for your thoughts?” Asked the woman 

“You could have just asked me” he said looking at her briefly “but who am I to refuse a kiss from you, specially when I know it’s going to taste like strawberries” smiling he continued to drive while looking at her every few seconds “I was thinking about only a few months ago when we met and I thought you weren’t going to last inside that gallery and now here I am, taking you to your first sex shop trip, writing a book about my beautiful dark haired Venus, who I happen to be able to call ‘my girlfriend’ and I’m just so so so fond of you. Sometimes I can’t believe I actually have found you because… you’re perfect. You’re everything I wanted and I didn’t even knew that till I laid my eyes on that shy creature that was blushing while I talked about acid trips and ménage but managed to overcome her prejudice and allowed me to love on her” 

Lavignia knew Harry for a little while but she already knew it was impossible to ever become accustomed to how direct and honest he was about everything. If Harry felt something, he was going to say. If he wants something he’s going to say. There is almost nothing that can make him blush, actually… 

“I think is unfair how you can make me dizzy and unsettled with just a few words and I can never even make you blush” 

“You make me blush all the time, my dear. Just by being being here with me you already make me blush with desire and burn with such a loving feeling” 

“The best part of dating a poet is that every word that leaves his mouth feels like a book that only I can read” 

“You can open me anytime you want, little darling” he said with a mischievous grin “and there is the blush I love so much… where is my kiss, love?” 

Raising from her seat she got closer to the man and gave him a peck on the cheek 

“Heey, I want a real one” 

“You are driving” 

After that they continued with a comfortable silence till they came to a stop at the traffic light. Lav was distracted by the way the sunlight was reflecting on the opal ring Harry gave her last week when she felt his hands on the back for her neck, pulling her close, demanding attention. 

She looked at him and felt his lips on her at the same moment. A fervent kiss. 

Harry was a lover. He had all the love languages inside of him. He was a words of affirmation type of guy in the morning when he was making her breakfast, with her eyes looking like she was a little panda from all the fucking the night before, and he looks at her and says “so beautiful with last night all over you”. 

Harry also was an acts of service type of man, from bringing her lunch to fixing her house cleaning when she was too busy with the gallery. He also liked to receive as much as he loved giving gifs: he was so thankful when he got home from a meeting with his editor and there was a pair of fluffy handmade pants she left for him since she couldn’t be there but at the same time, Harry would drive all the way through Rome just to find the perfect opal ring to give to her. 

A quality time together was also one of his ways of expressing love: from the way he holds her tight everyday to how he liked hanging out late at the gallery just watching her work. They didn’t have to do anything and he would still love every second he was with her. 

At last but not least, Harry was a firm believer in physical touch, of course, always with a hand on her. Not only to be sexual, but in a casual intention: it was a way of reminding both of them they weren’t alone anymore. They had each other. 

Harry was made out of love from head to toe and Lavignia just wanted for him to feel just as loved. Emotionally and sexually. She was his at the same pace he was hers. 

She was good with words but not very good with the sexual part. But she was getting better. She no longer was that same judgmental girl that came running during a sunny Monday morning inside the gallery. 

This sex shop travel came in handy: she was going to find something to make him quiver just like he did to her. Even if she is blushing the whole time. 

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It was a small street almost on the way out of the villa they lived in. There were little houses everywhere, all colorful. Harry was holding Lav's hand and looking around. She was always impressed with how much he didn’t care what people thought of him, walking around with his tiny shorts, showing his long legs and pretty bum. 

“You know it’s unfair that you have such a pretty little but” 

 His loud laugh made everybody look at them. 

“What are you complaining about? I mean… you quite enjoy holding onto this pretty ass when I’m deep inside of you” 

“I’m not complaining I just said it’s not fair, you get to be all perfect and I just live in wonder that I get to be with you and see this pretty butt almost everyday” 

“You can do more than just see” Lav was in shock but Harry already knew that. After those few months together he knew all the buttons to push, partly thankfully for her sexual inexperience once they first met because he always melted at the same time parts of him got even harder from the way she would react to every new thing they did “I love when you make that face but you know what I love even more?” 

Making her walk backwards towards the wall of a very blue house he used his left arm to raise her a little bit so he could look inside her eyes. 

“I love when I show you something new during sex and for 2 seconds you look at me curious and then your eyes go darker because this thing you didn’t even knew it could happen makes you feel all hot” Lavignia was feeling hypnotized, that was Harry’s biggest power: to make her melt under his spell “and that’s why I’m so excited because I’m gonna spend a few minutes watching your reactions to everything and I can’t wait to see how you’ll react… by the way, we’re here”. He said with his head pointing towards the blue house she was resting her back. 

Okay. Lavignia could do this. 

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She never saw so many dicks in her life. 

Of course they were plastic. 

But the moment she got inside the store she was shocked. Still holding Harry’s hand she walked towards a pink wall full of dildos in every size. 

“If you see anything you like, let me know” she heard his voice from behind her “it’s my gift to you” 

“Harry… I don’t know what I want out of tonight so I can go and buy what I want” 

“Well, I can always give you a tour” she heard a slow and sensual female voice from her side. 

When Lavignia turned around she was met with two large breasts covered by a simple black and white dress, the woman was tall. With big blonde curls and blue eyes, Lavignia had to raise her head to be able to look at the goddess that was waiting for her to say anything. 

“Harry, per quanto tempo, mi amore. Come stai” the blonde woman continued to talk, now in Italian.

“Screvivendo il mio nuovo libro” he said while giving her a kiss on the cheek “Nadine, let me introduce you to Lavignia, my girlfriend. Lav, this is an old friend of mine” 

“Oh, it’s so lovely to finally meet the one to take this man out of his misery, last time I saw him one the weekend before that last showing, the first one you were in, I think” she said while giving Lav a kiss on the cheek, she smelled like roses and champagne. A rich smell of such a classy young lady. “anyway, how can I help you guys? Looking for a new dildo, H? Isn’t your collection already big enough?” 

“Of course not and if Lav wants another one… I’ll give her, for sure” 

“Sure… and Lav ” the tall woman turned to look at the shorter from the trio “do you know what you’re looking for?” 

She wanted to buy something that could make Harry blush. But she didn’t want to say this with him next to her. 

“Baby, you don’t have to be shy. No one is going to judge you” Harry said to her in a soft tone. 

“I don’t know what to look for” 

“Darling, think of all our conversations, every movie I’ve shown you, every book I have borrowed, even everything we have done sexually… is there anything you liked and want to try?” 

“I liked when you held me down with the help of the handcuffs” 

“That’s my girl. Do you want to get a new pair?” Yeah, she wanted one. Lavignia didn’t know exactly why but she wanted to use it on him. 

“You already have that sex swing, right?” Nadine asked “I remember from your last party” Harry widened his eyes trying to get her to shup up. It worked, but now Lavignia had a few things you ask him

“Nadine would you mind that I stay alone with Harry for a little while?” 

“Of course not. I’m going to tend to some people inside the costumes area. It’s a good spot, by the way, if you even want to dress like a kinky school girl” 

“Oh god” she heard Harry whisper to himself. Part of him was always afraid that she started questioning his past. He was already so in love with her that the idea of her leaving him because she can’t accept everything he is, makes him sad. Especially because it has happened before. 

“Darling” she said in a calm voice “what kind of parties do you happen to throw?” 

Here goes nothing 

“A normal one but… with a few sexual elements in the middle?” 

“So what everybody fucks everybody?” 

“No, you don’t have to fuck anyone to be at my party. But you can fuck anyone that is willing to fuck you at my party. The rule is that it has to be consensual” 

“I have to be honest” she started with a tremble “I worry that someday you’ll think that I’m not what you want” 

Harry couldn’t help but leave out breath in sign of relief. But knowing that, after everything they went through, she was still insecure about it. It made him sad. He wanted to be a synonym of peace, happiness and pleasure for her. Not insecurity.  

“Darling, you are everything to me. And I have so much fun with you” he needed to say the right thing “sex is important but isn’t the foundation of a relationship. If sex was everything a relationship needed I wouldn’t  be so lonely till I met you. I love being in between your legs as much as I love watching you drinking your coffee during breakfast with a big book about an art movement while I make you pancakes. I love when I visit you at the gallery when you’re not expecting me and your eyes shine like the brightest little stars. So don’t ever doubt my feelings for you” 

“But like you don’t miss those things that I can’t give you?” 

“But you give me everything, little darling” 

“But like… you also like men” 

Harry didn’t like the way this conversation was turning” 

“You know I do. I thought you didn’t care about this?” 

“NO, I don't, it's just….” Lavignia used her hand to hold onto his shorts, bringing him closer to her, creating s little bubble to give the impression they no one at that sex shop could hear them “don’t you miss it?” 

“Men?” 

“I was thinking more like… a dick, you know” Harry couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. 

“Don’t laugh at me! I was thinking when you went to England for a week to meet with your editor and I missed so much but I don’t only mean by missing you YOU. I was missing…” she was blushing so much and Harry was starting to figure it out. 

“Darling you mean you missed my dick?” Harry asked while pulling him towards his body, using his hand to light her head so he could kiss her temple. 

“Yeah” almost a whisper 

“Don’t get shy on me now, you are telling me you miss my cock when I’m not around. Come one, tell me more. Fill my ego” 

“Stop it” she said smiling but suddenly getting shy at him again “it’s just… do you even miss being filled?” 

“It’s a nice feeling but I don’t want anyone else, I want you. Okay?” 

“Okay. I’m sorry for being insecure, everything is so new to me” 

“It’s fine, darling. I promise you” 

She smiled. Harry looked at the wall of dildos, seeing the types that could be put into a harness. 

“You know… there is a way you can fill me up too” 

“How?” 

“Do you see this?” Harry said using his hand to hold the harness “it’s for someone without a cock. We can fit a dildo or even a vibrator here” he said indicating the spot “and you can fuck me all you want, we can even get one that it’s without a strap, we call it strapless, that goes inside of you too, so we can come together.” 

She had her eyes opened like a panda. 

“We don’t have to do it today. If you don’t feel comfortable with the idea we don’t ever have to do it” 

“But what if I did?” 

“I'm going to buy a movie with a strap scene in it and also a nice kit of new plugs, like the ones you like wearing for work when we feel adventurous, and I’ll get the strap you want with the dildo you want, with a few candles, lube, a new lingerie for my princess. And then… I’ll let you fuck me” 

“I want to make you blush like you do to me” she finally had the courage to say it 

“Then let’s pick our toys. Do you want to be a strapless dildo or one with a strap?” 

Their weekend just got even more fun than Harry thought it would be. 

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They couldn’t wait to be inside. The moment Harry parked his car, she was going for a kiss. One that he’s giving back with as much fervor. With her small sundress and Harry’s jean shorts, she could feel all of him. 

“You little devil” he said after she started to move her hips, putting pressure on the ever growing budge between his legs. 

“What? Should I stop?” She asked faking innocence 

“Look at you being all so confident. Just wait till we’re watching one of those movies. I’m sure you’ll go back to be my blushy beauty. 

“Don’t you believe me” she asked, using her hand to travel down his covered chest, till his pants. Feeling him hot all over, hard and pulsing. Waiting. Desiring her “when I say I’ll be the one to make you blush today?” 

“Darling… fuck” he said moving his hips to make her slow hand movements stronger “if you don’t want this to be over before it has even started, i sugest you lead us inside the house. We have a movie to watch. Plugs to wear. And you… have an ass to fuck” 

If Lavignia thought she had him by the collar, she just thought wrong. Because when he finished talking she was the one breathing heavily, needing relief. Any type of relief. 

“Come on, let's take our stuff inside” he said nodding towards the shopping bags full of sexy goods for them. The night was young and Lavignia couldn’t wait to live through the night. 

So, as if he was taking the bags from a trip to the grocery store, he got out of the yellow vehicle, whistling, opening the back door that leads to the very black and white tiles kitchen. 

“So… she said helping him take the toys out so they could clean everything” 

“Why don’t you go get dolled up for me with this new lingerie and I’ll go set the movie for us?”

“Do you remember where the projector is?” 

“Yeah darling. Where do you want us?” 

“I can be cliche but I want it in your bedroom” 

“And in my bedroom will be. See you in 15, little darling. Go get ready” 

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The pink lace looked pretty when Lavignia looked at her reflection in the golden border mirror. It was a baby doll, completely see through. With little glitters everywhere. 

Underneath there was a barely there  pink lace panties. She felt like Botticelli’s Venus. Using her free hand she put her hair an elegant bun - keying sooner or later it would all come off during their activities. 

She could hear Harry moving from the other side of the door. Making so they could watch the tape he had bought back at the sex shop. He told her he would get everything ready for her and she knew he would. Harry was always doing everything to make her feel comfortable. 

Taking small steps she opened the door: rose wine and strawberries covered in rich chocolate could be seen sitting on the small table closer to the desk. The white panel was already up and Harry was messing with the wire of the projector. 

“Hey, doll” he said, still not looking at her. He was already without his shirt, and Lavignia could see the dark patch of his pubes appearing from the shorts. He had a concentrated look on his face, trying to connects all the right wires. Finally he smiled, the job was done, raising his head to look at the smaller girl. 

“You look like an angel”

“Well I’m pretty sure no angel would do what I’m about to do to you” 

“A few months ago you wouldn’t either” 

“Touché” she said walking towards him, letting Harry bring her close to his chest, looking closer at the ornaments on her baby doll “so, we have a movie to watch, right?” 

“Yeah, but, I wanna get ready for you. Drink your wine, I’m gonna get one of the new plugs and get myself a bit stretched for you” 

Giving her a kiss on the lips and a little slap on the ass, he got the bags that were resting on the bed and went to the bathroom. 

Laying down on the bed with a flute between her fingers, Lavignia was lost in thoughts of desire and love. 

When she first came to Italy she had no idea she would find herself and find not only love but a family. And Harry wound never fully understand how deeply her feelings for him could go. 

Her body was feverish, longing for Harry to come back to bed. She wanted to touch his tummy, memorize all the little freckles across his body. Just like he does to her when he’s on top of her. Sometimes he would just look inside her eyes, capturing the moment they were in inside his brain like a photograph to later be turned into another form of art: his poetry. 

She was so deeply in love with him. All the desire they felt for one another ran so much deeper than what she expected. Who knew that the kooky young man walking across the room those months ago, burning inside of her each step he took would have her whole heart at his mercy. 

She was hopeless in love. And she loved every second. But now… now was time to make him blush and shiver. 

She wanted to watch the way his eyes could turn when he was close to coming but she would not let him feel the relief. Not for a while. 

Those months working at the gallery, having friends that were so free when it comes to sexuality and dating someone like Harry was tearing up Lavignia shields and she wanted to try and show it to him, the man who never once judged her, what she was capable of. 

In that moment Harry walked out of the bathroom, looking flustered, using only one clear blue boxers. Lavignia could spot the budge he was sporting, his chest slightly red from arousal and his hair slightly damp. He gave her a soft smile walking towards the bed and sitting down. 

“Fuck” he hissed 

“Did the plug hit a nice spot?” She asked petting his wet curls 

“It hit the spot, doll” he said, pulling her to his lap, caressing her side while giving her a small kiss to her temple “shall I turn on the projector?” 

Giving him a nod she rested her back on his chest while he raised his arm to the small table next to the bed where the projector rested. 

Movie time has begun.

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The dark skinned woman was fucking the blonde rentlessly on the screen with a big and purple strap on and Lavignia has lost the count of the amount of time Harry has made her come just with his fingers, because, as he said so himself “I won’t be inside of you today so you need to come has many times as I can make you come”. 

The first time she came was when the woman and the guy were just dry humping and Harry used his hand to put pressure between her legs and over her panties. The second was when the woman started to slowly use her fingers to ease the man’s hole in preparation for the huge dildo. Harry started to slowly fuck his fingers inside of her while whispering in her ear all the things he wants her to do it on him. 

The third time was when the girl had the beautiful man on his fours and she was fucking him with such force that his eyes were turning. And now her body was shaking, completely sweating and anxious to touch him. 

“Baby…l she started looking at the projector and noticing that the rolling film was still halfway through “the movie is too long… I need to have you now” 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked, always concerned with her wellbeing “I can just fuck you with the plug on” 

“No… I wanna make you weak in the knees” 

“But you already make me weak in the knees” 

“I want to see you in every type of stage of desire. I want to see you in every angle and position, I want to fuck you and be fucked by you till I’m the only thing in your mind and everybody is nothing to compare to me and what I make you feel” in that moment it clicked inside Harry’s brain: she was insecure. 

“You know that you already are the best I ever had, right” it was funny because they could be so soft even when there was skin clapping and moans as a background music and Harry had a hard on and a plug deep inside of him “I bared my soul to you and you accepted with everything that was inside of you” he said caressing her face, looking inside her beautiful chocolate orbs “it was delicious to learn you and I love you so much, doll. And haven’t you heard? Sex is good. Fucking is good. Making love is good. But you know what is even better?” She shook her head in a negative and he smirked because this gorgeous venus like woman was all his to love and desire “knowing how to fuck with love, and my honey, we are amazing at it” she pulled him and kissed him deeply. 

The best type of kiss, if you asked Harry, was the one that was slightly imperfect and a bit rushed with desire. There was a gorgeous intensity when two people felt such hunger for each other that made them both feel like cats in heat, unleashing the knots of the soul in desire with the want to ravish each other like two animals. 

It was a mysterious desire that he loved it so much and he loved that he only learned that when he was with her and that was what his new book was about. That’s why he couldn’t say that right now, that’s why he won’t show her the book till he’s finished. He wants her to find out the intensity and eternity of his feelings for her in each prose and poetry inside the book he was written with his favorite pink pen. 

“Can I try and fuck you now, pretty please?” She asked him and how can he say no to the keeper of his heart? 

He smiled and nodded 

“How do you want me?” He asked 

“I want to be able to look at you so take off your underwear and lay down with you back on the mattress” while he was getting ready she walked towards the harness that held the strap he picked: 8 inch and pink with a bit of glitter. She was nervous but so so ready to make him shake. “But first, I thing I want you on your fours” she said while putting the strap on over her barely covered pussy, feeling it thigh over her clit that was swollen from all the fingering Harry managed to give to her. 

When she looked at him, he was a vision of duality: tall, muscly, with tattoos and a mustache but in his position that gave away all the control, with the piece of rosé gold coming from the hole between his ass cheeks and his ever shivery body, trying to rotate his hips to relieve his hard cock. 

“Baby” she said in a sweet voice while taking the bottle of strawberry lube that was laying on the bed “I’m gonna take this, okay?” 

He gave her a nod but Lavignia needed a voice answer. Just like he always did to her. 

“I need to hear your voice, baby boy” 

“Yes, Lav. I’m okay with it” 

Moving behind him she started to twist the plug, feeling it hit against his prostate stimulating him in a way he hasn't felt in so long. Slowly she took the plug out, going for the lube, using two fingers to enter his hole without any hesitation from his warm skin. He was moaning lightly, words of affirmation and little horney thoughts 

“You are treating me so so so well” he said, enjoying the feeling of her fingers inside of him. Harry loved this young woman with all of his heart and he desired her with every fiber of his being. 

“Im always good to you, my darling” she said, enjoying the way he was responding to her, finally figuring it out why he loved to spoil her sexually: it was divine to know someone was melting because of all the pleasure you were giving. 

“Darling, I’m gonna take my finger and get the strap ready, okay?” She said already going for the lube but he stopped her, making Lavignia scarred she had already hurted him “do you want me to play more with your pretty hole?” 

“No” he said, turning only his face to look at her, without getting out of his position “ I just…” 

“You just…?” She questioned but she saw the beginning of a blush form on his cheeks and she loved it, she was making him blush. 

Without saying anything he moved to his knees, right in front of her, pulled her by the ass and capturing the toy with his mouth, making the strap humid with is own spit, moaning against, almost sloppy because of the fever he was feeling for this girl. 

Playing the part she decided to stroke his cheeks and pull his hair from his eyes, exactly how he always does when she is the one between his legs. She was loving this dynamic, she could feel her juice melt their way down her tight and the little pression the harness pressed on her clit was making her moan a little, always getting lost in her own pleasure but Lavignia still had a mission: today was his day to melt, today was her day to take care of him. 

“Baby” she said pulling his head but he didn’t listen to it, continuing to bob his head down the 8 inch dildo “baby, be good” 

He stopped looking at her and whispering a little “sorry”. With her head she pointed towards her bed, making him lay down there. 

She slowly walked towards him, enjoying the vision of his dick hard, full and proud against his tummy. With his spread legs she could see all the moisture from the lube. 

Now, staying over the bed, she got one of the big pillows, putting behind his back for support, looking at hue eyes for any sign of resistance. She didn’t find any, so, with her hand holding the plastic toy, she started to rub slowly over the hole, watching it sink, letting itself be swallowed by his desire. 

“Fuck” he said when she hit just the right place “so good to me, so so good to me” he said while she sank all the way in, then getting out, just to go back inside again. 

Slowly to be careful with him but hard enough for him to feel in the morning. She was making him her little plaything, using his body like a map of his pleasure. Knowing what he liked by the little twitch on his dick, if he liked they all she was hitting by the way his breath was completely out of rhythm. 

“You’ve got me so worked up” he said going to hold his cock but her hand stopped him “why not?” He said with a frown. He has so much cum in him dying to get out of his body. 

“Let me play with you a little bit more” Lavignia said holding his hips and going faster, enjoying the way his skin was, by now, pink with desire and his cock always purple in despair. 

“Please, please, please” he said 

“Please what?” Lavignia demanded to know 

“Let me ride you” and who was she to say no to that. Changing positions she waited for him to climb over her body, getting the fake dick and slowly sinking himself “thank you, thank you” he started to repeat like a prayer. 

And she decided to help him in his prayers. 

Using her hand she started to pump his hard member, making Harry move his hips out of sync. 

“I’m gonna cum” he said and that’s when she attacked, sitting up a little bit and getting his dick in her mouth. She heard him saying something but she couldn’t know why because in that moment he was filling her mouth with the salty liquid she got used to those last few months. 

Minutes passed and Harry still had his eyes closed, enjoying the bliss that the orgasm gave him. Slowly opening his arms he got up, helping Lavignia take the harness off and catching the wet spot on her panties. 

Laying down on the bed beside her, he looked inside her eyes with a mischievous glint: 

“What are you waiting for come and sit on my face?” 

I hope you guys liked this little dirty piece <3 You can come to my ask to talk to me about it!

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #70!harry #gucci!h #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #sunlight universe

[crowtrinkets]

Eyes, Lips, Face

Word Count: 2,322

When you get thrown into a different world, you kinda forget to mention that the wig and contacts you're wearing are not your natural color, or that you're cosplaying their knightly order because this is actually a video game and shouldn't be real. But at least you get to share makeup with your new-found buddies.

I tried to keep this fic as reader/gender-neutral as possible. Ty to @alexaplaysgames for giving me pointers! Ya'll should check out their fics ;)

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I let out a stretch as Anisa walks back into her office, carrying more than enough blankets for my one person. I spy Felix swatting Sage’s hands away from ruffling his hair as they walk out the door to find sleeping accommodations. What a wild day. I never really wore a costume that required more physical activity other than walking around a convention for a few hours. I never intended to get into a bar fight while wearing a wig, contacts, and a decked-out costume I spent months on. Then again I never intended to be transported into the world of my favorite video game...

“Here are some blankets to keep you warm,” Anisa plants the blankets on the couch that would be my bed for tonight. I sigh with exhaustion at the thought of falling asleep, I heard Felix and Sage still echoing in the halls as they left. I thanked Anisa for the hundredth time that day and she left me alone to sleep. Alone yes. I yawn, taking in the room. At least there's a fire going, I wouldn’t be able to see without it. And thank god my backpack made the trip with me I wouldn’t know what to do if I didn't have somewhere to put my cosplay supplies. I reach into my bag and pull out a contact lens case. I thought it would be cool if my eyes had a more alluring color for this costume, hoping the color of the embroidery on my costume would be brought out because of them. Carefully removing my contacts I placed them into their case and tossed them back into my bag. I then reached up and unpinned the seemingly endless amount of hairpins I placed in this wig so it would stay put. It stayed in place in the Saucy Gull so I must’ve done something right. I remove my wig and wince a little when I realize it’s just going to become tangled in my backpack. Oh well, what can you do? After removing my wig caps and giving my scalp a much-needed massage from being confined all day, I go to remove parts of my costume. Thankfully the base of my costume is comfortable and inconspicuous enough to not draw attention to the fact that I'm an outsider. I keep my costumed cloak out, in case I get cold. I do wish I had better shoes however, $20 Amazon boots probably won't last out here.

After removing said shoes I plop down into the couch and pull some makeup wipes from my backpack. I never go without these, and I am especially glad to have them after the day I had. I remove my makeup, allowing the cool damp cloth to soothe my tired face. I’ve been running around all day, going through portals, being told I have a magical relic inside me, being flirted with by a cat boy. What I wouldn’t give for a year-long nap, or maybe just some coffee. After cleaning my face and putting my items away I take one look in my compact mirror, yup just my plain old self. Tossing the mirror away I get comfortable and lull into a dreamless sleep.

—-

I can feel the bitter cold outside the warmth of my many blankets, stirring a little I snuggle into them, nuzzling my face in the fabric to warm my cold nose. I’m half awake but can’t be bothered to open my eyes. Five more minutes. But then I hear... whispering?

“Oh my god, they moved,” Anisa’s voice.

“Relax Annie; if something happens, I can banish it,” Felix, sounds slightly shaken while trying to put on a brave front. Wait did he say banish. I decide that I’m now too awake to fall back asleep. I sit up, eyes blurry from sleep, and look at the two indistinct figures who I am assuming are Felix and Anisa.

“Good morn-” Suddenly I hear the sound of Anisa’s sword come unsheathed, and, I think, it’s pointing at me, for the second time. I blink trying to will my eyes to adjust, then rubbing them to reveal that Anisa is definitely pointing her sword at me, with Felix behind her, arms up in defense.

“A-Anisa, what are you doing?” It's too early for this, my voice is scraggly from sleep.

“What are you some kind of Changeling? Poor job imitating in my opinion, MC doesn't even look like that!” Felix states approaching me, a flurry of green flames forming in his palms. Oh shit.

“What? It's me!” I raise my hands in defense. I clear my throat trying to sound convincing. I’ve barely been here for 24 hours and I have been in more life-threatening situations than my entire life combined.

“Then how do you explain your changed appearance?” Anisa says accusingly. Changed appearance? Oh!

“I was wearing cosplay! You don't think I actually looked like that do you?” I lower my arms slightly, laughing awkwardly. I know Sage has weird eyes and hair but why would someone from Earth look like an anime character? Both faces before me twist in confusion.

“Cosplay?” They question in unison. I nod reaching for my backpack slowly. Anisa flicks her sword and I pull away.

“I-if you look in my bag there's a wig and contacts, and other stuff. I was wearing a costume and I thought it would be more fun if I didn’t look like myself,” I point to my backpack. Anisa nods at Felix who approaches my backpack, kneeling down to open it. He pulls out my surprisingly untangled wig, and yelps dropping it in my lap. I lift to wig onto my head poorly fitting it.

“See?” I then remove the wig and place it in my lap. Anisa's eyes go wide, she sheaths her sword and approaches me.

“Oh MC! I am terribly sorry!” She shoots Felix a look who flinches. “Felix had me convinced woodland creates replaced you with a clone,” she turns her attention back to me and Felix blushes with embarrassment.

“Clone?” I question. Felix stands.

“N-no matter, we both apologize for waking you with such an unsettling greeting,” I nod in response. I unwrap myself from my blankets and run a hand through my hair trying to look a little more presentable. Letting out a sigh, as I put the wig back in my bag.

"I-it's alright, I guess I should have said something earlier," I shrug innocently. Anisa looks down at my bag and then back at me.

"Do many people on Earth change their appearance like this?" Anisa looks at me, eager for information.

"Um not usually, well I guess it depends. I just did it for my costume, I thought it would look more interesting," I shrug.

"You said you were wearing a costume? Then why dress as a Starsworn knight?" Anisa questions. I am about to answer her but I hesitate. How am I supposed to explain that on Earth none of this is real? That this is a video game?

"Uhhhhm," is all I can muster to say but my train of thought is interrupted.

"Gods Anisa! Why did you insist on us being here so dammed early in the mor-“ they stop in the doorway. “Who is that?" It's Sage. He burst into the room without even so much as a knock.

"It's MC, apparently they were wearing a wig and other cosmetic adornments to alter their appearance," Felix chimes in. I suddenly feel insecure about how plain I look. At least Felix looks somewhat normal, well from the neck up. I just wave awkwardly in response.

"But I could've sworn their eyes were a different color, and why do they look so tired did they not get enough sleep?" Sage walks over leaning over the back of the couch. I cringe at his comments.

"No, I was wearing a costume, so naturally I wanted to look less... Natural," I attempt to explain. Who knew cosplay was such a foreign concept here.

"Why were you wearing a costume?" Sage squints at me. Oh god this question again, but just like last time, I am interrupted.

“Ouch! Hells,” I look over to see Felix with his finger in his mouth. He takes it out to speak. “Why do you have needles in your bag?”

“Oh! Sewing needles,” I reach into the bag and pull out a container of needles and the spare thread. “I uh, I packed these in case a bit of my costume came undone, sorry Felix,” a thought then occurs to me. “Why were you rummaging through my bag?” Felix suddenly flushes and avoids the eyes of everyone in the room.

"I um, was merely curious about your items," I decide to brush it off as I put my "items" back, I would probably want to examine inter-dimensional foreign objects as well.

“Snooping through MC's bag aye Felix? What were you tryna find?” Sage’s eyebrows waggle.

“Nothing! Nothing in particular I just… saw something that looked interesting,” Felix looks like he's pouting now, to save his dignity I ignore it. I reach into my bag and pull out the even smaller bag full of makeup. I don’t have much with me, just the ones I used for my cosplay in case I needed a touch-up.

“Was it this?” I hold up the clear plastic sachet. Felix nods in response. “This is just some makeup,” I open the bag and pull out a compact blush and hand it to Felix, then I pull out two eyeshadow palettes and hand them to Anisa and Sage, who has now joined me on the couch. Felix and Anisa sit on the floor and observe the items I handed to them. Felix opens the compact and eyes it curious, he runs a finger along the powder and rubs it between his fingers inspecting it. Anisa knocks on the closed eyeshadow palette.

“What is this material? And why have they spelled “elf” so terribly wrong?” She almost looks insulted. I hold back my laugh.

“It’s plastic, lots of stuff on Earth is made from it. It's cheaper than metal and sturdier than cardboard or wood,” I decide to not bring up how problematic plastic can be, no need to bring up the fact that the Earth is slowly dying.

“Sage that looks terrible,” Felix remarks. I look over to Sage who has rubbed bright blue eyeshadow all over his eyelids. Oh, that is SO not his color. I reach into the bag and pull out a brush.

“May I?” I ask, Sage looks at me suspiciously and nods. “Close your eyes,” I run the brush over his eyelids and blend the color out a little more, it’s difficult with all of his squintings but I manage to finish. Pulling back, I hand Sage a mirror.

“Oh… I look terrible in blue!” Sage laughs. But he continues to admire himself in the mirror. Anisa laughs as she watches Sage tilt his face in the mirror staring at himself. From the corner of my eye I catch Felix looking at me, I turn to him and he has an almost, hopeful look in his eyes.

“Do you want me to do your makeup?” I ask, as innocently as possible. Felix flushes and looks away.

“I-if you insist,” he mumbles out. I chuckle and slide off the couch to sit in front of Felix, I grab a large brush and the compact from his hand.

“Do you mind if I?” I hold my other hand close to Felix’s face, his eyes go wide as he nods slowly. I grab his chin gently and apply blush to his face. It's hard to tell just how much I am putting on considering Felix’s face is about as hot as a fried egg on asphalt, but I make do with what I got. I finally finish and pull back.

“Oh, Felix you look adorable!” Anisa chimes in with a laugh.

“You look like a baby,” Sage teases. Felix snatches the mirror from him, grumbling, and inspects his face, his eyebrows are furrowed.

“I think I look like I've had too many drinks, why is it on my nose?” He looks up at me, I half-shrug.

“That’s what's popular on Earth,” I try not to tease too hard, but Felix really does look much younger with his cheeks pink and rosy. Anisa taps my arm, I guess she wants a turn. I give her a nod and allow her to pick a color she likes. She chooses a nice purple and I apply it on her lids as well. She sits perfectly stoic and still allowing me to apply it gently. Once I finish with her I hand her the mirror and she smiles brightly.

“Oh thank you, MC! I say you did a very fine job,” she gives me a nod and goes back to admiring her eyes.

For a good few hours we end up swatching a lot of the makeup, Sage proceeds to put on the absolute worst colors for his complexion, yellows, oranges, and greens which I didn’t even know I had. Felix keeps his blush on for longer than I thought he would. Anisa asks to do my makeup and she does a surprisingly good job at blending. Eventually, everyone has to go back to business and I hand out makeup wipes to each of them. Anisa is a little amazed at how they work. Sage decides to keep his disgustingly green shade on much to our dismay. Felix cleans off his face carefully but his real blush remains for a while. Everyone eventually leaves me to actually get myself ready for the day. It’s when I'm folding my blankets up that I realize.

I just did the makeup for characters in my favorite video game franchise, this really feels like a fever dream. I laugh to myself, I will remember this day fondly.

#fictif last legacy #fictif #fictif fic #fictif anisa #fictif felix #fictif sage #crow writes

[xenia-cenia]

Albedo x Fem!Reader - Love

A/N- HUGE thank you to @yukiilu​ for helping me figure out what to do for this one - check out their blog, it’s super good!

Liyue time babey!!!! Also stan proper lab safety

Trigger/Content Warnings: abusive dad/absent mom, near death experience 

Word Count: 2,483

Request: No

Summary: You learn what love truly means.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Love.

You were not cut out for love. That had been drilled into your head since you were a child - you were dangerous. You needed to stay under lock and key. You needed to obey. You needed to stay put.

Your mother danced with electricity between her fingertips and fear in her step. Your father who had fallen in love was quick to run when he found her true identity.

By the age of 4, anyone could see you were different. Lightning always seem to strike around you, yet the shocks had no effect. 

Love.

You could not love, nor could anyone love you. 

You could easily end cities if your frustration flashed, you needed to be hidden. 

It took 15 years for your father to pass and you to be found. The world had changed in your absence, children ran with kites and merry. Sunlight beamed onto your skin and burned your irises. 

Citizens of the place you learned was called Mondstadt expressed their disgust for your father. They all told the same story; that when you were a child you got attacked by a group of hilichurls who stole your life. They mourned with him for years and none could explain the surplus of storms that followed your ‘death’.

 A woman with blonde hair which she wore into a ponytail was the first to greet you to current Mondstadt. She called herself Jean and apologized for your suffering. How, she questioned, were you held in a basement under their noses for all of those years?

Out of pity or fear, you weren’t quite sure, she assigned the Knights resident alchemist to teach you everything you missed. 

The boy never held expression in his teal eyes; nothing more than analysis. He didn’t sigh or apologize for your past like many other citizens of Mondstadt, instead, he asked you a question that you yourself had never considered.

“Why were you locked away?”

After a few moments of careful thought, you responded, “Love.”

He almost looked surprised at your answer, “Interesting.”

For weeks, you shadowed the boy as he completed various experiments. For weeks, you watched as he slowly began to open up to you.

“Come here.” He instructed, holding a vial with his gloved hand. You walked up to him and looked at his experiment, “Careful now, pour this into this.” He pointed at a cylinder.

You opened your mouth to question why, but simply shook your head and poured the vial. A burst of red and pink exploded into the air, the colors swirling and forming a flower.

“Alchemy,” he spoke, looking at the wonder in your eyes, “is magnificent. Isn’t it?” With an unclothed hand, you reached up to touch the symbol but Albedo quickly grabbed your wrist, “You’ll burn yourself.”

“Ah,” you set your hand down. “Can I... can we do more?”

He smiled to himself, “You’ll need gloves.”

The next day, as you sat around his lab in the Knights of Favonius headquarters, he showed up carrying a large box. You quirked an eyebrow up but he ignored it, setting the day and hastily rifling through it. Your curiosity got the better of you, you walked over and peered in.

It was filled with various lab safety precautions. He paused with his hands deep inside the box and pulled out see-through goggles with a thin black strap around the back. 

“Try these on.” He handed them to you. You squeezed the goggles on and were surprised at how clearly you could see everything. “Do they fit?” He asked, not looking up.

“I think so.” You adjusted them, “They don’t hurt or anything.”

“Okay, good.” He sucked the inside of his cheek, “Hmm... try these gloves on.” He pulled out a pair of black gloves with a bright yellow diamond pattern sewn into the cuff. 

You picked them up and slid them on. The warm interior made your chest swell, to conceal the blush that crept onto your face you turned around and covered your cheeks with your hands.

When was the last time someone went out of their way to make your clothes were warm and fit right? Had it ever happened?

“(Y/N)?” Albedo asked, confused at your sudden reaction.

“They’re... they’re really good. Can I keep them?”

“I don’t see why not.” The boy waited for you to turn around before he continued his plans for today's experiment. As you did, he couldn’t help but smile. In one quick step, he was mere inches from your face, his hands adjusting the goggles you had shoddily put on. “This part needs to go on your nose.” He tapped the plastic. “Make sure you don’t get any flyaway hairs stuck in here.”

You nodded blankly, trying to keep yourself from collapsing to the floor with shaking legs. And for the first time in your life, you began to wonder.

Perhaps your father lied about love. Perhaps it was another trick to keep you under his control; to scare you about kindness that existed just outside of the darkness. Perhaps even you could love

But you knew better than to let thoughts like that clear your mind. Your father just wanted to protect you. You were dangerous. It was for the best. You deserved to be locked away.

...right?

Right. You shook the thoughts away and listened as Albedo began to explain the lab he’d be doing today. 

When he was finished, you chatted happily with him the entire time and hoped he wouldn’t notice you shoving the gloves to the bottom of the box and your sadness.

At your home, you couldn’t help but feel fear. The house where you were locked in for years, your world contained to a small basement, now in your possession. You could tear down walls or seal the basement off once and for all.

But you didn’t. Instead, you pretended you grew up normally. His half of each imaginary conversation was filled by creaking and soft footfalls.

“Father!” You called into the empty house, “I had a lovely day today.”

“It was so much fun.” You smiled as you walked into the kitchen, “I- oh! Father. We’ve talked about you leaving dishes in the sink.” You shook your head disapprovingly and laughed softly as you began to wash them.

“I know you’re old, Father! But I’m not your live at home maid.” 

“Fa...” your smile fell as you turned around. In your heart, you could pretend he was standing there with a lopsided grin and wise eyes. But you knew he only ever looked upon you when you began to cry or shriek. You exhaled deeply and gripped your arms, your eyes locked on the floor, “I love you, Father.”

Some things never change.

You still found yourself sleeping in the basement and singing songs you created as a child to soothe the loneliness. On the cold basement floor, you couldn’t get the blond-haired alchemist out of your head.

Love was wrong. You were wrong for Loving anyone. You knew this still... would it be alright to like? Would it be fine to pretend he would spin you on the dancefloor with a large grin and soft blush? Would it be okay to imagine your hands in his hair as he lies on your lap, murmuring of alchemy and his hypothesis as he slips off into sleep?

Maybe that was alright. You smiled to yourself and let sleep overtake you.

“Dragonspine.” Albedo walked into his lab, smiling happily at you, “I’m going to Dragonspine.”

“Dra...” your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to remember what that was, “The... the mountain?”

He nodded and sat on a chair, “I’ll be gone for quite some time but I’ll try to see you every-”

“I want to come with.”

“What?” He looked at you with wide eyes.

“I want to go with you.” You repeated, your resolve burning in your chest.

“Why? It’s dangerous.”

“But it’s real. I want to see as much of this world as I can.”

He inhaled softly, “I... suppose... you can come with me. But you need to stay close to me. Don’t run off or get yourself hurt.”

You beamed at the boy, “Yes! Thank you, Albedo.”

Albedo and you gathered supplies instead of your daily experiment. Warming bottles, blankets, and every spare bit of medical supplies you could get your hands on. After some careful consideration, Albedo bought a basic polearm for you to use.

“Just in case. I don’t think you’ll need it, but if I’m away and something goes wrong... well, it’s better to be prepared, isn’t it?”

5 weeks after you found out about your trip to Dragonspine, you set off. It was a cold and uncomfortable hike to Albedos lab in the mountains. He assured you that he’s had this lab for years, that it should be safe. When you arrived, you collapsed next to a fire and took deep breaths.

Albedo frowned as he began to set up his next experiment, “I won’t be angry if you want to leave.”

“What? We just got here!” 

“I know it’s just...”

“Look, I... if I need to leave, I’ll tell you. So stop worrying about it!” You tried to stifle a yawn as you lied next to the fire.

He sighed, “Fine. Do you want...” he looked over his shoulder and let his voice fizzle out as he saw you sleeping. Albedo went through his supplies, pulled out the blanket, and put it over you. “Oh.” He spoke to himself, a memory coming back. 

One more trip into his supplies, he pulled out a small item and lied it next to your head. He hoped you’d be happy when you saw it. Albedo smiled to himself and continued working.

When you woke up, you were drenched in a mixture of sweat and melted snow. You pulled yourself up, tried to shake some water off of you, and sighed. “Alb...” you turned to the alchemist, but he was fast asleep. You thought over what to do and came to a conclusion.

With soft steps and careful placement, you left the lab and began to explore the depths of Dragonspine. You walked for only a few minutes, growing increasingly more confident in your abilities, but a loose twig decided to ruin your day.

Quickly, you stumbled and rolled down the cliff and into a pillow of snow. You sat for a second in the snow, laughing softly at how stupid that looked. “Well, up and at em.” You stood, looked around for a path, and happily followed it hoping it’d lead you back to Albedos lab.

An hour had passed since you decided to walk away from Albedos lab, why was it that you even left? Did you think a walk would dry you off? Were you simply tired of lying there? You couldn’t remember. The path led you to a dark cavern, with smoke billowing out of the mouth.

Heat. Fire.

The only two thoughts in your head clouded your judgment as you walked deeper into the cavern, hoping to get warm. 

Albedo woke up with a nagging feeling that something was wrong. He sat up, looked around his lab, and immediately felt bile rise in his throat.

You were gone. You had left - he gave you one instruction and now you were gone. Albedo quickly pulled himself up, grabbed the gift he left for you and took off.

It didn’t take long for him to find your footsteps and follow them into Starglow Cavern. Despite his swiftness, he had the feeling that he was too late. Too slow. He drew his sword and charged in, still following your footsteps. Unsurprisingly, they led to a flame nearby. He saw Hilichurls warming themselves with the flame and felt his heart drop.

Albedo rushed towards the flame, quickly knocking out the hilichurls and looking over the edge. There, at the very bottom, he saw you crawling towards the top and leaving a trail of red behind you.

“(Y/N)!” He yelled, your head snapped up. He could almost see the relief on your face as you saw him. He ran through the cavern and when he arrived in front of you, gingerly picked you up. “What... what happened?” He put his hands on the frozen tears on your cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” You responded with a raspy voice, “I...” 

“Ssh, save your strength. I shouldn’t of asked ju-just stay awake. Can you do that?”

“It’s so cold.”

“I know, I know.” He went up the cavern as quickly as he could, occasionally making comments so you stayed awake.

When he arrived back at his lab, he lied you out on the blanket and thought about the best course of action. Not even a second later, he was tearing through his supplies and forcing Warming Bottles into your arms. 

“Al... Albedo.” You called weakly. He froze, trying to contain his panic. “Come... come over here.”

He shook the fear away and kneeled next to you, grabbing your hands tightly. “What is it?”

“My Father... told me I can’t love. But,” you smiled with tears in your eyes, “I think I love you.”

His fear broke through his walls. Albedos eyes flooded with tears as he held you, “D-Don’t say it like that! Don’t say it like it’s goodbye!”

“Albedo...” you tried to laugh, “You always make me feel so... happy...”

“No... no!” He shook your body, “Wake up! Wake up, dammit!” He pressed his fingers against your palm and felt his entire body jolt as your weak, but still existent, pulse throbbed against his fingers. 

The Alchemist quickly set to work, every healing potion he had was used. It didn’t matter if he could save a million lives with one; he’d use a million potions just to save you. He trekked back down to Mondstadt with you on his back, completely abandoning the lab, and screamed for help until you were taken to safety.

But it wasn’t until your eyes opened again could he relax. It wasn’t until he could wrap his arms around you and feel your arms tighten around his waist that he knew it’d be okay.

Shakily, he grabbed the gift he had so desperately wanted to give to you, and felt his eyes well up with tears as you hugged him tighter.

You slipped the gloves on and tried to contain your happiness, “You saw?”

He nodded, “You weren’t wearing them when you left I...” Albedo cut himself off. He didn’t want to say the truth which was he spent hours tearing the box apart and trying to get the gloves back to you, “I wanted you to have them.”

Love.

Love is what you felt when Albedo grabbed your hands, or when he blushed with a shy smile. 

Love is his drawings of you that filled his every sketchbook. 

To love, you decided, was to be alive.

#albedo x reader #albedo x you #albedo genshin impact #albedo genshin #albedo genshin x reader #albedo genshin impact x reader #my writing #fanfiction #x reader #x reader fanficition #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #happy endings #one shot #saved by albedo

[writingblackpink]

Coincidence (pt. 2)

Read part 1 HERE

genre: fluff

word count: 2.8k

pairing: rosé x reader

Wherein your friend drags you out to dinner and you meet a familiar face….but is that all she is?

A/N: surprise!! Here it is! Kind of fluffy! Let me know what you think :)

-

“Wait, wait, wait, let me get this straight,” Joy squinted at you, pacing in front of the couch you sat on, “The girl you took home from the bar was Rosie? The same Rosie we just had dinner with? The same Rosie that had you up against the wall of the women’s restroom, but you can’t remember if you fucked or not?” 

Your head instantaneously hit your palms. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to your roommate’s crudeness. “Shhhhhh….you don’t have to say it like that.”

Joy let you have the peacefully silent car ride home to think about how you would present the story to her, and as soon as you crossed the threshold into the apartment, she began berating you with questions on how you and Rosie knew each other. So now, you sit on the couch as she paces the room, deep in both thought and confusion as you both try to piece together what happened that night. 

At her silence, you continued. 

“Listen, I have a feeling nothing like that happened. If I was so wasted that I can’t remember what happened, there’s also a big chance that I wasn’t able to do much else.” You sounded more so as if you were talking to yourself, trying to convince yourself of what happened during the night in question, and not to your roommate who was also trying to help. 

She stopped pacing to respond. 

“Ok, but what about this incriminating evidence? I swear I was minding my own business but when I got home that night, you two were definitely in the middle of some intense….” she paused, looking for the right word, “necking…” she paused again, sour expression gracing her features, realizing that wasn’t the best choice of words, “on the couch.” She finished in a more accusatory tone.

You made a sound in frustration, throwing your head back in your hands, trying to wrack your brain for any fleeting memory. 

“I don’t know, just, can we stop talking about it for tonight?”

Joy shrugged and took a few steps to exit the room. 

“Y/N, maybe you should just ask her what happened.” She responded. 

“Better yet, maybe you should just ask her out on a date already!” She exclaimed over her shoulder as she continued walking down the hallway. You let out a sigh when you heard the door to her room closed, hoping you were off the hook at least for tonight. 

You opened your phone, staring at the lips as Rosie’s contact and as if you were on autopilot, you opened a new text message. You glared at the blank screen until you lost track of time, thinking through what you could possibly say, but you couldn’t think of anything clever at that moment so you exited the message and clicked your phone off as you got up and walked to your room, retiring for the night.  

--

Each day the following week, you found yourself in some weird sort of cycle. You would spend all day thinking about Rosie, what happened that night, how you would ask her out, and when you returned home you would open her contact in your phone, staring at the blank message screen until you chickened out and closed the app. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, Rosie kind of intimidated you, and you wanted to make sure you reached out in the best way if you wanted her to agree to go on a date with you. You don’t think you’ve ever been this nervous to impress someone.

By Friday, you were starting to get frustrated with yourself at this go around. When you got home and opened your messages this time, you finally typed something out, opting for something simple and straightforward, before hovering over the send button. 

Taking a few deep breaths, you pressed send, watching the message pop up in the chat. 

Hi Rosie! It’s Y/N from the bar...and dinner last week. I know this is kind of last minute and you’re probably busy but there’s this carnival happening this weekend and I was wondering if you’d want to go with me? 

You stared at the screen for what felt like hours before you saw that Rosie was typing. 

Are you asking me out on a date, Y/N?

She replied, and you could almost picture her smug smirk through the phone. That was something you already knew you admired about her - her unwavering confidence she had in herself. You wished you had as much in yourself.

Yeah, I guess I am 🥴

Your response was simple, but you saw her typing back almost immediately. 

Cute ☺️

Was the first message, and you thought that was all she was going to send until you saw the chat bubbles pop up again. 

I’m actually free tomorrow, Y/N. And if I wasn’t, I would have cancelled my other plans for you. I’ve been waiting for you to reach out. 

You blushed at the thought that Rosie was thinking of you too, and you wondered if she was feeling the same way. 

--

Clothes were strewn across the room as you tried to pick something to wear on your first date. Joy heard your grumbling and rounded the corner into your room, eyes widening at the mess you were making. 

“Why are you so freaked out?” She questioned, “From what I saw on both occasions, you could be wearing a plastic bag and Rosie would still look at you like...” She paused, failing to find a way to describe Rosie’s longing glances, “...well, you know.” and she left it at that, hoping you could make a conclusion based on that. You did.  

You continued rifling through your things as she spoke, realizing that if you didn’t hurry and get dressed, you’d be late. 

“I don’t know Joy. I don’t really know what’s going on with me, but Rosie just makes me so nervous. It’s like…” you stopped and looked up to the ceiling, deep in thought, “I want to be around her like all the time. Which is weird because we’ve only sort of met twice but I don’t know,” you continued, bringing your eyes down to meet Joy’s, “she makes me feel so much.”

Joy laughed at that, walking over and placing a hand on your shoulder, “wow, you really got it bad, Y/N.” As she exited the room, she offered a “good luck” and continued on her way. 

--

You settled on an oversized sweater and some jeans, something basic but also something you knew would keep you warm in the crisp fall air. Glancing at your watch, you let out a breath of relief to see that you were leaving right on time, which was kind of a first for you. 

The car ride was actually pleasant. You and Rosie made easy conversation over anything and everything, including music tastes, favorite colors and which rides and attractions you were excited to get to experience with each other. 

As you made your way into the carnival, you both agreed that you would hit the food trucks before anything else. Soon, you were settled at a bench, staring at the wild array of fried foods you had collected from nearly every booth. 

Neither of you said anything about the excessive amount of food in front of you, and you both sat, eating contentedly, conversation flowing freely. But the question still sat at the back of your mind, and you figured that there wasn’t a better time to ask than the present. 

“Rosie? Can I ask you a question” you asked, waiting for her to meet your eyes. She made an affirmative sound and sat up a bit straighter, letting you know you had her attention. 

Suddenly, a wave of nervousness washed over you and you didn’t really know why. You put your hands in your lap and moved your gaze to them as you spoke. 

“Um...so...this might be a little awkward...and embarrassing on my part,” you forced out, lifting your eyes to meet her curious ones once again. Her eyebrows were furrowed together in confusion, waiting for you to finish your question. 

“But the night we met...what exactly happened?” 

And you were surprised to hear a chuckle escape her lips. Her beautiful, beautiful lips. You realized you were staring as she started talking, so you drifted your eyes back upwards hoping she didn’t notice. The way she continued made you think that maybe she didn’t. 

“Well,” She paused, leaning forward and gave a lopsided smirk as she continued, “do you want the truth or do you want me to spare you?”

Cringing inwardly, you just wanted to get this over with and move on. Clearly she has, you thought. 

“Oh, god. Please just tell me what happened so we can move on from this. I don’t remember anything after we got back to my place.” 

She chuckled again, and you thought you might never get tired of seeing her smile or hearing her laugh. 

“Not much happened actually.” She stated nonchalantly. “We made out on your couch for a little bit and then…” She trailed off like she was trying to decide on whether to continue or not. 

“And then?” You asked, the suspense really killing you. 

“Well, you kind of…” she paused, clearly trying to figure out how to tell you what happened next.

“You passed out against my face. So I figured I would just help you get to bed and head out, so I sat you on your bed and went to rummage through your kitchen for some hangover meds and water, but when I got back you seem to have..” she paused again before continuing. “You seemed to have thrown up a little on yourself. And I couldn’t leave you like that so I found a towel and a t-shirt and got you changed and cleaned up before I found a post-it note and a pen to leave you a vague note and then I hit the road.” She got it out in a rush, almost like she would have rather spared you instead of telling you what had happened, knowing you would be embarrassed. 

Your face was hiding behind your hands before she was even finished telling the story. Honestly, you were more impressed at her resourcefulness in a place she’d never been before more than you were embarrassed, but you were also still embarrassed and you couldn’t completely let that feeling go. 

With red cheeks, you uncovered your face, seeing Rosie look almost as pained as you. 

Clearing your throat, you finally spoke in the smallest voice you could muster. 

“Thank you, Rosie, for uh, doing that for me.” You coughed again, hoping that would clear out the silence. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I tried coming on to you at dinner so that you wouldn’t think anything like that happened, but then you never called and I thought I ruined everything by coming on too strong. It’s ok though, I promise none of that changed the way I was feeling about you.”

“Really?” You piped up in surprise, thinking that incident should’ve been it for her, but then again she wouldn’t be here with you now if she did. 

“Yeah, really. I think I’ve been wanting to spend more time with you since then, actually.” She responded shyly, less confident than you were used to.

And it felt like a giant weight had been lifted off of your shoulders because damn, Rosie felt the same way you did. 

You cleared your throat again, trying to sound cool when you said, “Cool. Great.” and left the conversation at that. 

You could tell there was a tension that settled between the two of you after that. The Rosie you once knew as confident now seemed nervous, and all you wanted to do was get rid of the tension. 

Heading to the ferris wheel, you couldn’t help but notice the way Rosie tried to look everywhere but at you as you spoke, and the way she fiddled with her own hands as you waited in line for the attraction. When you got on the ride, her hands remained nervously in her lap, and she kept her gaze away from you as the ride made its ascent. As you made your way to the top, you watched as fireworks exploded in the sky, and as cliché as it sounded, you figured you should probably make a move. You hoped it would help drop the tension.

You reached over and grabbed her hand out of her lap, placing your hands in between the both of you and smiling when she turned to first look at your joined hands and then up to meet your gaze. She smiled back as you gave a gentle squeeze and you both looked back at the fireworks, almost feeling like you could reach out of the car and touch each light dancing in the sky. 

After playing some carnival games, which included Rosie winning you a small plushie (a turtle you both named ‘Bob’), she led you to a ride that looked fast and furious. You had Bob in one hand and her hand in the other, and you couldn’t help but bask in the twinkle in her eye when she looked over her shoulder and smiled, giving your hand another squeeze and pulling you along. Yeah, you definitely weren’t ever going to get tired of seeing that, and you were also glad that any nervousness Rosie was feeling after telling you how she felt was long gone. 

Stepping on the ride, you began tapping your feet on the ground and fidgeting in your seat. Of course, Rosie noticed. She was more intuitive than you originally had given her credit for, but also anyone within a ten-mile radius could notice you tapping your feet as the sound echoed through every inch of the metal.

“Hey, are you okay?” and the genuine concern in her eyes and the gentle squeeze she gave your hand, was reassuring enough to help you release any tension in your muscles. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You smiled back and took a few deep breaths just as the ride began moving. 

Getting off the ride, adrenaline was coursing through your veins. You ran off before Rosie, skipping a few steps before turning and waiting for her to catch up to you. She was chuckling again as she made her way over, and she began saying something, but you were so caught up in the way that her long hair, mussed up from the ride, was flowing down her shoulders and the way her eyes glistened a little from the wind blowing in her direction and her cheeks glowing with a soft flush from the adrenaline as well. 

You blamed it on the adrenaline when you surged forward and kissed her when she made her way to you. To your surprise, she kissed back, and you stood there, in the middle of the carnival, silently kissing each other as sounds from the rides and the games rang out in the background. 

You pulled back first and looked directly into her eyes. You were pleased to find her smiling back at you and without saying anything you began pulling her to follow behind you. 

A little while and a shared cotton candy later, you were back in your car bringing Rosie home. When you arrived at her apartment, you both sat for a minute, not sure what the next move was. 

“Thanks for taking care of me that first night -”

“Thank you for tonight.”

You both let out at the same time, and you both laughed. 

“You go first,” Rosie said. 

“I was just going to say, thank you for taking care of me that first night. I really appreciate you. I’m sorry you had to deal with me being a mess. You didn’t even know me. So thanks.” And you left it there.

“Y/N, it’s no problem, really. I think you would’ve done the same for me.” She paused, letting a beat of silence go by before continuing, “and thank you for tonight. I hope we can do this again very soon.” 

With that, the confident Rosie you remembered was back, and she was leaning over the console to place a gentle kiss on your cheek and pulled back. The touch was fleeting, but you knew you would feel the outline of her lips against your skin well into the night. 

She smiled as she opened the door, turning to wave when you gave a ‘good night!” in her direction. You watched to make sure she got in safely before pulling out of the parking spot to head home. Your cheek felt like it was on fire, and you brought your fingers up to touch the place her lips had been just moments earlier. You chuckled. It was no coincidence there was going to be a second date.

#the end #blackpink imagines #blackpink #blackpink rosé #blackpink scenarios #rosé park #roséblackpink #gg scenarios #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #rosé x female reader

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine 😈

Erik getting caught fucking a sex doll and plus sized Reader catches him in the act/ Fic inspired by Tanerélle- Mama Saturn.

Warnings: Straight up SMUT. Nothing but smut.

Y/N.

A sinful treat that Erik wanted to devour every single time he saw her. Sexy bitch. He likes a girl that’s a bit of a challenge to get into his bed. She didn’t wear her pussy power on her sleeve. Not a church girl exactly but one who’ll play mouse to his sharp-clawed cat. Y/N was exactly that challenge. She’s a plus sized model from Washington DC that Erik had the pleasure of meeting during a block party/ fundraiser in Oakland CA for the Wakandan Outreach Center.

She volunteered for one of the booths there and Erik couldn’t help but to talk to her. She compelled him. Erik found himself enjoying her east coast accent and how much she loved being a model. It was the only thing she’d ever wanted to do, and she was in it for the long haul. She was turned down plenty of times; denied opportunities because of her “shape”. Bullshit. Complete bullshit. Her shape, her overall beauty...Erik’s thoughts lingered on her pretty face and equally beautiful body even after he went home from the office, picturing her standing behind him while he showered, arms wrapped around his waist, her face nuzzled into the small of his back.

Okay...that wasn’t all he pictured. He’d pictured bending her over his California King Bed, her hands fisting the 800 thread count sheets while he plunged his fat dick deep inside of her throbbing pussy, making her cum almost instantly. He pictured her losing some of the calm control she exerted over every other aspect of her being, trusting him to be there to catch her as she trembled her way to ecstasy. From simple meet ups whenever she came around the Outreach, Y/N wasn’t the girl who threw her pussy around like a Frisbee. Fucking perfect. He liked inexperienced puss.

Good, Erik wants that. He wanted nothing more than to break that puss in hot and raw with his sizable appendage. A pretty puss that he could turn out. She’ll remember him in that pretty kitty. He’d never taken the time to actually become friends with a women without sex being involved. Y/N was just that. She would come over at times to chill with Erik, watching movies or chatting it up. Even though Erik wanted to fuck her, he still appreciates the times where they would just link up and bond. It got so crazy that Erik gave her a spare key whenever she needed a place to escape to when he was out of town with his cousin; the King of Wakanda. Every time he would come back home, her smell...nutmeg and vanilla bean would still be there. In his sheets. In his kitchen. On his couch. Ugh. He was half tempted to let her move in since she couldn’t stand living with her roommate.

“Have you ever had your big, juicy ass properly worshipped?”

That’s what he wanted to ask her while staring at her proud, thick, curves before him, imaging the luscious mocha color of her booty straining as she bounced gently up and down his big, fat dick. Her heavy bottom was the perfect roundness, a reward for Erik’s months without sex, of yearning to kneel down in front of her, to taste her sweet pussy and touch her beautiful voluptuous body.

This is all your fault, Y/N

Erik found himself doing something he hasn’t done in a long time. It was a late Thursday evening, he drove past a Sex Shop he’s been meaning to explore. Succulent was the name of it, one of the C’s blinking in and out from the faulty light bulbs. Big, read cursive letters over top of a sleazy adult toy shop in the heart of Oakland on a rainy Thursday evening. He needed a release. He hadn’t seen Y/N for a couple of days since she went to visit family in Atlantic City. She teased him with a few sexy pics in skimpy dresses and bikinis and Erik shamelessly beat his hefty dick to the images.

Parking his car, paying the meter to avoid a ticket, Erik pulled his windbreaker hood over his head to shield the rain drops, slamming his door shut before checking that the coast was clear to cross over. Once his left foot hit the cracked and wet pavement, Erik stood in front of the sex shop, rain hitting his lashes and the tip of his nose, his face illuminated by the LED lights that warmed his russet skin and sparked his nerves. In the display window, there are a few tall boxes with a picture of a very very titillating black women that looked like a cosmic beauty with an Afro and eyes that sparkles like diamonds. Her naked body glistened like some supernova sex goddess, skin like midnight. On the outside of the boxes there are big, bubble gum pink letters surrounding it.

Mama Saturn Kan Make U Kream!

Erik opens the door, a soft bell dinging above his head. The shop smelled like scented candles. The rug was a plush royal purple and the lights were dimmed to set the mood. Rows and rows filled with any and everything SEX. Occupying the register is a young black girl with long passion twists in her hair pulled up into a bun, a matching legging set colored peach with gold gladiator sandals on her feet. She’s currently standing on a step ladder, putting up the same sign in the window above a display behind the register.

Mama Saturn Kan Make u Kream!

“Hi!!!”

She was upbeat and good-humored with a pretty smile and hazel eyes. Erik returned a half smirk, the dimple in his right cheek creating a deep hollow. He removed his hood before taking his right hand to shake out his tapered dreads.

“My name is Shay, if you need any help at all, let me know,” she looked Erik over with appreciative eyes.

“I’ll let you know if I need anything Shay,” Erik says before walking further into the store, his eyes moving from left to right as he took in the scenery. Smaller shelves filled with DVD’s and porn magazines were situated in the front. Erik picked up a few to look over. Ebony Lust, XXX Cocoa, Busty Mochas, Ghetto Booty Queens...

This store must be owned by a black male or female. Erik really liked that. He could see a few white men flipping through pages, eyes as big as saucers staring at all that chocolate, divine booty and pussy on those pages, the visuals popping out at them like 3D pictures. Erik bobbed his head to Megan Thee Stallion’s- Sex Talk while peeking down a few aisles to explore. What Erik hadn’t noticed until now is that there are booths in the back with a black velvet curtain as the only concealment. Curious, gait so smooth, Erik made his way down an aisle filled with male sex toys to see what was behind those curtains.

Finally there, standing before one of them, Erik pulled the curtain back. The booth was small and cramped. It was one of those booths where you put a quarter in a slot to watch a quick porn scene. The booth and walls were nice and clean, painted black like the curtains, but Erik could only imagine how it looked before. Cum stains on the floor and on the booths, women watching the thirty second flick while rubbing themselves down. Men slipping their dicks past the velvet curtains like a glory hole so they could provide something for the women to suck and slurp on. 

“You can go in if you like. It’s only a quarter.”

Erik was alarmed when he felt a small hand rub the tension from his muscles. Turning to look over his broad shoulder, Erik’s whiskey-colored eyes fell on a 5’5, caramel skinned baddie. It was Shay, the store clerk. 

“Just make sure you wipe up when you’re finished, okay?”

Erik chuckles, releasing the curtain so that it can close, “Damn...it gets that messy, huh?”

“Oh, yeah,” Shay shakes her head with a grin, “I can’t even begin to tell you what goes on beyond these curtains...some of the shit I’ve seen...”

“Wild,” Erik licks his lips.

“Like I said, you can go inside, the flicks are only thirty seconds but it’s worth it,” She says with a honeyed tone.

“Yeah...I need more than thirty seconds to bust a nut, ma. That’s not nearly good enough.”

“Oh?” Shay folds her arms across her small cleavage, “See...I can tell you’re no amateur. You’ve probably tried a lot of the toys in here with women.”

Erik’s lips twisted in thought, eyes heavenward, “I’ve tried a lot of things...I guess you can say I’m an expert...what? You got something that will spark my interest?”

“Just the thing,” Shay walks closer, making her voice smaller, “ Mama Saturn can make you cream.”

“Mama Saturn?” Erik blinks his eyes down at Shay before pointing towards the front of the store, “You mean the sex doll in the display window? Nah, that’s not my type of thing, baby girl.”

“You’d be surprised. Ten have already been sold and they came in today. They’re selling out in other sex shops too. Thanks to one of Tony Stark’s ex-employees that worked in his artificial intelligence department.”

Erik’s eyes squinted as he elevated a single brow down at Shay. If one of Tony Stark’s ex-employees created Mama Saturn it must be an impressive design, almost like the real thing. He knew it had to cost an arm, leg, and head. Erik wasn’t going to lie, he is curious about the sex doll. He remembers laughing about men fucking sex dolls. Who would want to stick their dick in a plastic blow up doll to bust a nut? The shit was comical. 

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Shay gently squeezes Erik’s bicep, “if you change your mind about Mama Saturn, you know where to find me, handsome.” 

Erik regarded Shay as she sashayed away down one of the rows filled with erotica before disappearing completely. It was midnight and he was standing in a sex shop. He came here to buy something he probably already has packed away in one of his heavy duty suitcases at the back of his closet. Toys he hasn’t used in FOREVER since he laid his eyes on Y/N. He’s been courting Y/N for months. Yes, Erik “the pussy monster” Stevens. He didn’t earn that nickname just for the fun of it. 

He could only imagine the women he used to sleep with seeing him again. They wouldn’t hesitate to give him the finger or an evil scowl  and for the most part he didn’t blame them. He was selfish, greedy and horny in his younger years, too full of himself to appreciate the true joy a woman could bring him on all levels. Erik has never been in a situation where he wasn’t in a hurry to get a girl out of her clothes, to figure out who she was by the way she writhed, the way she moaned his name into the pillow or his ear, the way she came on his dick or his tongue. 

Deciding to get something quick; some new BDSM toys, Erik grabs a basket, filling it up with handcuffs, edible lube, vibrating tongue covers, candles for hot wax play, nipple clamps, floggers, anything so he could get home for the evening. An evening he could be spending sitting up on the phone with Y/N, her sweet voice keeping him company while he was in bed. Erik trailed to the front of the shop, standing behind a few men. One of them he noticed carried a box with the sex doll inside; the long box in front of him. 

“That will be…$105.86,” Shay watches the customer insert his chip into the card machine, his transaction completed. 

“I can help you!” Shay called to the man with the sex doll. She began ringing him up, Erik’s eyes looking at one of  the boxes in the window.

Tell me all your names, baby

Tell me all your names, I need to know

Then I'll tell you mine, baby

Then I’ll tell you mine and we can go

To past the time

Shift paradigms

Align our bodies with the sky

'Til I am yours and you are mine…

The song began to play with the surround sound of the sex shop. The sultry voice called for him, tickling his ears and making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 

I'd do anything for you

Yeah, I’d do anything for you

Baby, just say the word

And we make perfect sense

God could not resist no

I can feel the urge

To drop defense

At my expense

Allow my body to ascend

Along with yours

Let love commence…

“That’s all for you today?”

Erik was the only one left in line now. 

“Shit, it’s late as hell,” Erik spoke in his defense, “Long ass day.” 

“No problem, handsome,” Shay rings in his items, “Candles?”

“You never know,” Erik chuckles with his signature half smirk.

Close my eyes, embrace my matter

Swing my hips as if they bear the rings of Mama Saturn

Stretch my vertebrae so we can climb it like a ladder

And step into our world…

“Who is this?” Erik asks with fondness in his voice.

Mama Saturn,” Shay says with a coy smile, “Well, she’s who inspired the design of this sex doll. 

Erik couldn’t keep his eyes off of the boxes in the windows. What was it that made this sex doll so compelling? Maybe it was because he was aching for a sexual release. Maybe because he wanted to know why this sex doll was so popular. Did it do tricks? Did it talk to you? Was it designed to feel like the real thing? A really pussy?

“...how much for one of those sex dolls?”

Shay tried to fight a smile but the corners of her lips couldn’t help but to turn up. 

“2,000.” Shay says flat out.

“Makes sense,” Erik didn’t flinch at the price, he expected it to be that much especially since it was created by an ex-coworker of Tony Stark. 

“Last chance,” Shay teases, all of his other items priced at $78.86.”  

“Shit, why not, add one to the total.”

—————————-

Friday Evening

“hmmm what can you do?” Erik paced his bedroom in a pair of grey sweats and a plain white T-shirt. The manual for Mama Saturn rested between his fingers, the doll itself sitting in a recliner chair in his bedroom. The doll was indeed impressive. The skin felt so real, the face just as mind blowing. Erik honestly felt that 2,000 was a snag compared to what it should be retailed for. He had it charging since this morning since he planned on testing it out tonight. 

“Mama Saturn can make you cream...I act out live fantasies for you...charge me up and take me for a ride...you won’t even tell the difference between the real thing and me...”

Erik shakes his head before folding up the instructions. He looked over at Mama Saturn sitting in the chair, the eyes on that doll feeling more and more realistic the longer Erik gazed. Tearing his eyes away, Erik reached for his glass tumbler filled with cognac, taking a long sip. Was he really going to fuck a sex doll? The thought of it has him laughing into his glass. Wiping liquor from his chin, Erik’s phone began to vibrate in his pocket. Erik pulls it out to find Y/N calling him. Placing his drink down, Erik answers the call, resting on the edge of his bed.

“Hello?”

“Erik?” 

He felt warmth creep up his belly.

“Hey,” He says with a soft spoken voice. 

“I missed you,” She sighs, “I had to cut my vacation short.”

“I missed you too,” He really wanted to tell her to come see him since her trip ended so quickly, “Wasn’t even there for 48 hours.”

“Well...my family is pretty broken. I was hoping to make amends but that didn’t work out. I was not going to be there for two more nights and deal with it.”

Erik lays back against his bed, sliding the instructions to Mama Saturn to the side, “If i were there to keep you company the trip would have been better...am I lying?”

She giggles, “No. you would have made it even better.”

Y/N grew silent on the other end, the sound of her turn signal blaring through the phone.

“Where are you?” Erik asks.

“I’m on my way home from the airport. I’m tired, I need some sleep. I have a lingerie shoot in the AM.”

“Jet lagged, huh?” Erik runs his fingers through his dreads, “Once you get in that house you’re ass is gonna be passed out on the couch.”

“I know! I was thinking damn it’s a Friday night and I’m usually eating Chinese with Erik intstead of by myself on his couch but yessss I am entirely too tired to stay up late. Rain check?”

Erik hopes he didn’t have disappointment in his voice when he responded, “Yeah, of course. If you’re free tomorrow you can come over.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Erik...let me get off of this phone, I’m almost home. Night, Erik!”

“Night, ma,” Erik ends the call, resting his phone against his chest, “Damn…”

Erik looks up and over his head at the sex doll. Lifting up, stretching his arms above his head, Erik exhales before removing his sweats and his T-shirt, sitting on the edge of the bed completely naked now minus the gold chain around his neck and his Nike socks. His dick was semi erect between his legs, resting against his inner thigh. The minute he went to grab his smooth, brown dick it thrummed against the palm of his hand. Erik rolls his tongue along the inside of his left cheek.

Standing, Erik walks over to his closet, opening it and grabbing one of his suitcases filled with sex toys. Opening the suitcase, Erik grabs a bottle of lube before closing it back up. Erik shook the bottle, the contents inside sloshing around. Erik with his lube in hand walked over to Mama Saturn seated on his recliner chair. He stood before the sex doll, his eyes dancing over it, wrapping his mind around the fact that he was about to fuck the shit out of this doll. Grabbing the remote control that came with it, Erik admires the different vibration and pulse settings. 

Erik grabs the sex doll, bringing it to his bed before resting it in the middle of it. Even caressing the thighs was bizarre. Eyebrows disappearing behind the curtain of tapered dreads resting over his forehead, Erik pulls the legs apart on Mama Saturn, eyes growing wider the more he stares at her “pussy”.

“No fucking way,” Erik was stunned. 

Before him is a pussy molded for him to deep-dive into. The ULTRASKYN material is smooth. He was going to need A LOT of lube to help his fat dick glide inside of Mama Saturn’s soft, fully detailed vagina. Erik takes his finger tips to stroke the outer lips of her mound. Erik cracked a smile when he used his finger to insert inside of the realistic sex doll. Flexible, walls covered with countless ridges to create a realistic sensation. 

“Shit,” Erik says barely above a whisper, “they weren't playing when they made you…”

Erik removes his finger, grabbing up his lube to cover his dick and balls generously before doing the same thing to Mama Saturn’s vagina and...how impressive, her asshole. Three holes to explore including her life-like mouth with lips so full. Mama Saturn is amazingly detailed from the smooth texture of her skin to her brown eyes with luxurious lashes, curly fro, and plump lips. Erik decided to try out the mouth first. His dick hasn’t been in a woman’s mouth for months. This will have to do for now until he finally gets a chance with Y/N. 

Using his fingers, Erik opens her mouth, amazed to see a smooth pink tongue and a deep throat. It’s a sex doll so he knew it would be never ending. His pipe would be able to go deep in all three of her holes without a barrier. Grabbing his dick at the base, jerking it, Erik lines his dick up with the mouth on Mama Saturn before pushing himself fully inside. 

“Ooh?” Erik shuttered, his gluteal muscles tight, “fuck...fuckk.”

Shocked, confounded, dazed, Erik stared down at the doll like it came to life and slapped him across his pretty face. What else can you do, he thought before grabbing the remote, pressing a random button. His body almost fell on top of the sex doll. Erik just knew that there was some man out there, lonely and undesired who would marry this fucking doll. Mama Saturn’s mouth and throat are lined with stimulators to make Erik bust strong and hard. The squishy, ribbed texture along with the way it pulsates and vibrates had Erik grabbing a fist full of the doll's hair that felt so silky smooth to the touch, the curls coiling around his thick fingers.

“Goddamn,” He whispered shallowly from his lungs, “ahhhHHH, fuck this fucking doll ain’t no joke!” He spoke through clenched teeth.

Who knew a damn sex doll would make his balls tight and heavy with cum and his dick so damn hard he could bench press a barbell. His thrusts became even more sloppy, hips smashing into the realistic face of Mama Saturn. So much room for him to swivel his hips, ram his dick in hard and fast, and yank and pull her hair. No teeth, just straight slippery ridges giving him an ultimate sensation. 

“Unh, shit,” Erik felt the muscles in his back flex, “Shit is so deep.” 

Deeper than the real thing. Nothing compared to the real thing, NOT AT ALL but Erik could understand in that moment while his dick went in and out with a gluttony to cum why this toy sold as much as it did. One thing for him to check off his list of sexual exploration. The sheen of sweat on his back trickled down over his ass and the muscles in his arms trembled the more he lowered that doll's mouth over his dick. 

“SHIT- oh my fucking God-“

Erik pulls his dick out, stroking it a good two times before his thick, tasty cum landed on the doll's face. It was the vibrations and the pulses. He’d never cum that quick from oral. 

“Mmmm,” He moans, before rubbing the last bit of his nut on the doll’s face, “This is so wild.”

Dick still poked out and nowhere near softening up, Erik pries Mama Saturn’s legs apart, staring down at the realistic vagina with horny curiosity. Once again, Erik slips his fingers inside, closing his eyes and imagining that it was Y/N’s pussy he was fingering. She had to have the fattest pussy ever, not to mention the wettest pussy ever. She would probably cover his entire hand with her slick juices. Biting his lip, Erik lines his sensitive, wide tip up with the tight opening on that damn doll. With a slight shake of his head, Erik’s dick slipped past the flesh-like labia before fully burying inside. 

“Ugh! Shit!” Erik’s head flew back, eyelids flickering, “Shit don’t make no sense…”

He was frustrated with himself for fucking a sex doll when he could be ten inches deep in Y/N’s pussy with his balls slapping her ass. Hips pistoning in and out of Mama Saturn while his sweat dropped from the tip of his nose, Erik kept his eyes closed as he imagined this doll being Y/N, staring up at him with her innocent brown eyes, confused and moaning. He imagined that he was with her, sliding hot and nasty against her sweaty body, watching her arch and stretch as he pulled his dick almost all the way out of her gorgeous, slick pussy, then slamming it back in and making her scream. 

“Y/N...damn...your pussy feels so good Y/N...I knew that puss would be nice and tight for daddy’s fat dick, baby...I just wanna make you cum, girl...fuck...I just wanna feel that sticky cum all over this big-fucking-dick-

“Erik?”

“Yeah? I’m in that pussy baby? Daddy fucking that pussy?”

“Erik…”

“Yeah, call daddy’s name like that, Unh fuck, girl...pussy is so damn good-

“Erik!”

His eyes popped open almost instantly when he heard Y/N’s voice elevate. The vibration from Mama Saturn shot straight to his heavy sack before Bam!!!! His cum filled that toy to the hilt. Erik pulled his body away from the doll, staring at it with bewildered eyes while his dick bobbed up and down between his legs. Did it just speak? Now his mind was really playing tricks on him…

“Erik-Erik I’m, I’m so sorry.”

A jarring expression on his sweaty face, Erik turns towards the entrance to his room to find Y/N standing there in a fabletics outfit with a Nike cap covering her braided hair, white Nike huarache on her feet, and a take out bag in her left hand. She was frozen, her eyes dancing between the doll covered in his cum and his naked body glistening and still very much hardened. 

“Y/N-

“I’m really fucking sorry Erik, oh, fuck, I’m so fucking sorry I feel so bad for walking in on you like this, Erik shit, I’m sorry-

“I...I thought you were going home?” 

“I...was...but...I…” she instantly stopped speaking. Y/N’s eyes could not stop looking at the doll and Erik’s body. She was half-tempted to drop the food and scurry away but the scene in front of her eyes…

“Y/N? How long have you been standing there?”

Longer than she would like to admit. When Erik hung up she decided last minute to surprise him with food. Y/N wanted badly to see Erik, hoping that tonight would finally be the night that he would take advantage of her but instead he’s taking advantage of a sex doll that he envisioned was herself taking his big ass dick. All that dick that he was giving to a sex doll…

“I’m just...I think...Erik I’m sorry,” Y/N turned on her heels, taking wide strides to his kitchen to drop off the food and rush out of his luxury apartment. She didn’t know that having his key would lead to her walking in on him having a blast with a sex doll. She felt embarrassed. Erik looked abashed for a second but then his body seemed to relax, his nudity and the sex doll with its legs wide open before him just another thing in his room. 

“Y/N! Wait!” She could hear Erik getting up from his bed. Looking over her shoulder, she could see Erik walking towards her, still naked, dick swaying, eyes soft and pleading for her to stay. 

“Erik, I’m sorry,” She couldn’t stop apologizing. She was at his door, twisting the knob when his hand grasped her shoulder. Y/N didn’t turn, she couldn’t bring herself to face him while his amazingly-built body and that beautiful, fat dick stares back at her, inviting her. 

“Stop apologizing,” He used force, turning Y/N completely, her back pressing against the door hard. She turned her head away from him, looking over his sweaty shoulder. 

“It’s nothing for you to feel sorry about, Y/N...I just wasn’t expecting to see you tonight…”

She could smell his sweat...it was an intensely masculine scent. The spiced nuances burned her nose, she could even smell a hint of cocoa. His entire atmosphere warmed her and electrified her body in ways she hadn’t felt since forever. Why was he doing this? Standing before her, looking down at her with his blazing eyes, fully naked and still as stiff as concrete. 

“Last minute decision,” she stuck her hand in a small pocket on the side of her athletic leggings, “Here...your key back-

“Nah,” Erik folded his hand over hers, “Keep it...I like it when you use it...makes me think you live here with me…”

She looked at him then. Their eyes matched the same compulsion. 

“What?” He asks with a whisper.

“...Erik, I should go,” Y/N went back to twisting the knob but her eyes stayed glued to his, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He closed his eyes before raising a single brow, “I really wish it was you instead, Y/N...I really wish it was you, girl.”

His eyes opened and THAT'S when things really turned up. His body pressed into hers, the flesh of his girthy dick resting against her stomach from their height difference. He was still sticky down there from using lube to fuck that doll. She swallowed spit, lower lip trembling as she watched his face get dangerously close to hers. 

“You don’t know how bad I need you,” He mumbles, “Stay, please? here,” Erik reaches for her hand, Y/N’s fingertips touching the swollen, wide tip of his dick. She gasped, eyes glossy. Erik made her wrap her hand around his dick, her fingertips barely touching. 

“Please?” His eyes swam with lust as he studied her face.

The urgency in his voice made her quiver. This was too much to unfold at the moment. The doll was still on his bed. Could she really have sex with him right now after he just ejaculated inside of a fake vagina? His fingers lightly touched her hips and Y/N’s lower lip rested between her teeth. While she nibbled nervously, Erik’s warm breath tickled her cheek. His lips were so close. 

“I wanna fuck you,” He whispered, “I wanna fuck you so bad, Y/N.”

“Not now, Erik,” Y/N pushed herself away from him gently, quickly opening the door, “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t look back, her mind was swirling with tremendous confusion. She did have an early shoot in the AM and she was indeed jet lagged. As he called her name, his voice desperate, Y/N decided to take the staircase so he wouldn’t follow her, or worse, pick her up and carry her back into his apartment, MAKING HER STAY. She stopped on the next level to catch her breath before deciding to take the elevators the rest of the way down. How was she going to face him the next day after what she just witnessed? She had to sleep it off.

—————————

Y/N sat down on a fluffy white sofa after shooting her last few pictures with her personal photographer. Dressed in a black leather lingerie set with matching leather gloves and a choker that spelled out Baby Girl in silver lettering, Y/N thought about what happened just six hours prior. 

She didn’t call or text Erik. She couldn’t bring herself to do it yet. He gave her space even though a part of her missed his silly texts. He liked to send her voice messages instead of typing. She didn’t complain, his husky voice was ear porn for her. 

“We did good today,” Her photographer, Bruce, a good friend and talented artist says while looking at her pictures on his camera, “You just get sexier and sexier every time I see you.”

She blushed, “Thanks, Bruce. When are you going to show me those sexy polaroids of your fiancé and all her thickness?”

“I’ll bring them next week, I promise,” Bruce walks away to put his camera in its designated bag.

“Let me get dressed,” Y/N stood up from the sofa, “I’ll lock up, Bruce, you don’t have to worry about it. Go home and take your fiancé to brunch.”

“You’re sure? Ain’t no rush for me.”

“I’m positive, go on,” Y/N waved him away while grabbing a robe from her vanity to put on, “Treat her to some food and have a good time.”

“Thanks, Y/N, I’ll see you next week, Aight? I got Jayla hooking you up with a sexy set of dresses. I’ll see you at 8 AM, next Saturday.”

“Can’t wait! Bye Bruce!”

Y/N gave him a final wave as she watched him leave the studio. She was just about to gather her things and get dressed when a knock came to the studio door. Y/N sat her things back down, walking towards the front of the studio and finding a man standing at the door, his head downcast as he typed on his phone. She couldn’t make out his face because it was shielded behind a hood. He wore a denim jacket over his hood with a pair of black cargo pants and black and white Jordan 13’s on his feet. 

Her phone rang. Reaching into her robe pocket, Y/N pulls out her phone. 

Erik.

Her eyes shot up towards the door, his eyes staring back at her through the glass. There was no use in ignoring him, he could see her through the glass, wrapped in a robe. With an irregular breath, Y/N walked to the door, unlocking it before stepping away. Erik opened the door, pulling his hood off of his head before allowing the door to swing shut behind him. He turned, locking the door before facing her again with searching eyes. 

“How was the shoot?” He asks while placing his hands in the pockets of his denim jacket.

“It was great, always great,” Y/N’s eyes darted around the studio, “What are you doing here?”

“Figured I would try to show up and see you work but I’m too late,” Erik’s eyes burned into hers, “Then I figured we could get something to eat and talk about what went down last night before you ran away from me.”

She wasn’t getting out of this. Y/N motioned for Erik to follow her towards the back of the studio where Bruce’s backdrops and furniture were. Erik took a seat on the white sofa, Y/N right next to him, folding her shiny, chocolate legs. Erik couldn’t help but to glimpse a peek of her smooth legs and the little bit of cleavage that teased him through the small opening at the top of the robe. Beneath that thick robe was a body he wanted so deeply he shivered. There was so much to see and taste and touch. If he pulled that robe from her body he wouldn’t know where to start or finish. 

“I ain’t expect for you to see all of that,” Erik spoke with his hands, eyes glancing over at her from time to time, “how did you feel when you saw me fucking the doll?”

“Uhm…” Y/N adjusted her hips on the sofa, “It was shocking...I guess I was a little turned on by it…” she couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

“If you were turned on...why didn’t you stay?” 

Y/N batted her lashes as she gave him a once-over, “Because it was too much to deal with. The doll...your body…”

“Hm,” Erik observed her with his whiskey eyes, “I really wish you would have stayed with me…”

“I will tonight...I am right now,” She gave him a soft, timid smile.

“Yeah...you are right now,” Erik bites his lower lip, “I’ve been wanting you for months now, Y/N...you heard what I said last night while I was fucking the doll?”

She nibbled on the corner of her bottom lip before shaking her head, “I don’t remember.”

Erik scoots closer, grabbing one of Y/N’s hands, “I said that I wanna make you cum.”

With a shivering inhale, Y/N’s hand in Erik’s became sweaty. 

“I’m tired of playing games when I know you’re feeling me too...I know you want me just as much as I want you. I waited for months, I’m tired of fucking around, Y/N.”

“I do want you, I just didn’t want to rush into things. I didn’t want to get my hopes up about you so damn fast but I just couldn’t help myself...Seeing you like that last night I…”

Her brown eyes blazed into Erik’s. Y/N scoots closer, her hand nervously reaching out to tug on the collar of his denim jacket, “How long have you wanted to fuck me, Erik?”

“Since the first time I laid eyes on you,” Erik stared down at her hand pulling harder, the fabric applying pressure against his neck. His smile was that of a predator spotting its prey, victory assured. Pure, dumb-founded lust was painted on her beautiful, round face. 

“Same,” She says barely above a whisper, “Oh, Erik.”

That was an invitation to pull her on his lap. Erik wrapped his arms around her plump body, his left hand coming up to palm the back of her head so that he could hold her steady while his thick tongue slipped past her lips and into her warm mouth. Y/N reached up to grasp his shoulders, her breath halting each time Erik’s tongue would graze hers. 

“Take this off,” He spoke against her lips, “I need to see all of you…”

Without hesitation, lips still pressed against his, Y/N opened her robe before shimmying it off her shoulders, letting it fall on the floor.

“Damn...this is exactly what I pictured.” 

All her curves...all that chocolate skin...everything for him to bite and lick on. 

“You looking sexy as fuck in my lap, ma,” Erik’s hands couldn’t resist reaching behind her and rubbing her sizable cheeks.

“All this ass…” He wanted nothing more than to pull all of her weight down on his dick, “You don’t know how bad I want to fuck you right now-

“Please?” She begged.

“You remember how I put this dick in that doll? I was fucking that doll like crazy wasn’t I? with all this big dick you sitting on?”

Visions of him screwing that sex doll with all of his fat dick has her more than prepared to take him right there on that couch no matter how many times it needed to be. She’d fuck him and let him put her body in different positions. Anything he wanted, anything he imagined himself doing, he can do that shit. 

“Stand up,” Erik instructed with his hands resting on Y/N’s hips. 

She stood from his lap, the sexy lingerie making his mouth water. Erik rose from his seat, taking off his denim jacket and his hoodie. With a white beater stretched across his vigorously ripped body, Erik wraps his toned, bulging biceps around Y/N’s waist, kisses long and hot-blooded while he backs her against a nearby wall. Y/N fought for oxygen between kisses, releasing her lips to inhale but it only lasted a millisecond because Erik’s hungry lips were back on hers. 

As sexy as the lingerie was on her beautiful body Erik needed to see all of her before him. Reluctantly releasing his lips from hers, Erik presses his forehead against Y/N’s, his hands trailing over the patent leather of the bra and panties she wore. The set barely covered her breasts or her ass. Heavily breathing against her cheek, Erik reached around to unclamp the bra that was struggling to hold up her DD’s. She didn’t stop him, she didn’t tell him no, she simply allowed him to pull the leather from her smooth chocolate skin. 

“They are so fucking pretty,” Erik kisses down her neck, “delicious titties baby…” his lower lip poked out when he got closer to her dark brown nipples, “I ain’t even put your titty in my mouth yet and look what you got my dick looking like…”

She heard his zipper, his jagged, labored breath tickling her nipples, “Look what I got for you…”

She took in the sight of his big black dick and at the moment she could already feel her pussy expanding to take all of him. The throbbing deep inside of her itched to feel just how much that fat dick would pound her. Y/N isn’t nowhere near experienced with big black dicks but staring at Erik’s thick pipe made her want to learn with speedy delight. sucking a dick like that she just has to get that mouthful of sperm.  She wanted to slow down, take her time and really ENJOY the sheer pleasure of licking, sucking, feeling, smelling and just making him feel the best he’s ever felt before. 

“Damn, Erik…” Y/N licks her bottom lip, “that’s a big fella.”

Erik chuckles, “can you take it though? That’s the question,” His hands came up to squeeze one of her breasts, “big ass titties...you are just perfect.” He was amazed by her sheer motherfucking sexiness. Tongue dripping spit Erik lowers his head to suck one of her nipples into his mouth. Face in between her titties Erik felt smothered in the best way the more she squirmed. Staring at them now they looked bigger than what he expected which makes the situation even better. 

Y/N stroked his dick with a twist of her wrist while Erik’s hips thrust back and forth into her hand. She took the time to memorize his length and thickness while slowly jerking him into extreme stiffness. Erik has her breasts covered in saliva the more he nibbled and sucked. 

Hissing, Erik removes his lips from her hardened nipple, “put your hands up on the wall.”

Y/N turned, her back arched with her hips propelled back against his dick. Erik got down on his knees, her ass hovering about him, and pulled down her patent leather panties. The tight leather was a struggle to get over her big ass. The panties were digging into her thick thighs and she struggled to stay arched against the wall with her titties smashed. 

“Erik,” She called to him, trying to look over her shoulder, “What are you about to do to me?”

Her timid voice has Erik’s dick pointed straight up like a skyscraper. The visual before him, her plump pussy lips peeking at him from the back with her large, wide ass...Erik couldn’t resist giving each cheek a solid slap, the sound echoing in the room as the sting reverberated in his palm, “Have you ever had this big, juicy ass properly worshipped?”

“No,” came her muffled reply as Erik spread her open and let his thick, long tongue explore her sweet curves. His hands pressed painfully into her twin globes before spreading them as far as they could go, giving himself room to taste her sensitive pussy. 

“Unh, Erik,” she whimpers. 

Erik curled his tongue into a point and dove right in while his finger circled her asshole, teasing it. She took in a sharp breath, her ass jiggling from the pressure he applied. Erik could tell that she never took any dick up her ass and he would surely be the first to introduce it to her. 

“Spread your thighs, girl,” Erik commanded, “I’m tryna eat…”

“Fuck, Erik,” Y/N felt his thumbs stroke her wet pussy lips before they parted her pussy lips. Awaiting his assault, Y/N clawed the wall with her acrylic nails. Her mouth fell open wide when she felt his tongue dip in and out of her back door. He was tongue-fucking her ass on his knees, madly slurping and getting it nice and wet. She would have never imagined a man doing that to her, EVER. 

“Oooh, Erik! Oooh shit!” 

Erik worshipped Y/N’s ass like he would never get another chance, his tongue savoring her sweetness while her pussy juices dripped. Her pussy needed attention too so Erik moved his tongue up and down from her ass to her clit while his sturdy thumbs kept her pussy lips open. 

“Ugh, Damn, girl,” Erik swallowed spit, his face shiny, “don’t know where I want my tongue first...this big ass or this fat pussy…”

“All over me, please!” 

“Let me taste that clit,” Erik’s lips sucked her clit into his mouth. His eyelids fluttered the more he savored her. Her sweet, sweet pussy compelled him to bury three of his fingers inside of her pussy. When she felt the thickness of his fingers enter her, Y/N shouted, reaching back to hold one of her hefty cheeks open. 

“Yes, yes, yes!!!” Erik heard her cry, a little louder than before as he pressed his three fingers deep into her tight tunnel. With her hips rocking back on his hand, Erik feasted on her bottom, her strikingly soft mounds against his cheeks massaging him while he coaxed her into an orgasm. 

“Yes! Erik yes! Please keep doing that! Oh God! Erik I’m cumming!!!!!!!” 

Quickly, Erik’s fingers left her pussy to spread her ass cheeks extensively, his entire mouth wrapped around her pussy as best as he could since she’s so damn fat down there. He could feel her sticky syrup coat his tongue. He could eat her ass and pussy all damn day but now he needed to be inside of her. Slow stuffing, balls deep, make her cream. That was his motto. He wanted to make her cum on his dick so damn bad. 

“Come here,” Erik barked out, picking Y/N up and carrying her to the sofa. He lays her down on her back, spreading her legs wide open for him while she leaned back on her elbows watching. Erik couldn’t wait to get his dick inside of her. The second her pussy lips parted and her tight, wet hole winked at him Erik fisted his dick, dipping his hips low before sliding inside of her. Her head fell back against the sofa, braids resting over her eyes and a steady moan escaping her mouth. 

While her head twisted from side to side, Erik watched the way his dick went in and out of her pussy. He loved the sounds her pussy made whenever he pulled his dick all the way out to his wide tip before sliding back in. She was the wettest. Each time he pulled out her juices would gush out. 

“This pussy is swallowing this big dick, girl...you ain’t tell me it was this deep...ain’t flinch at all when I got up in this fat pussy.”

“No,” She moaned.

“It’s cuz this pussy needed my dick, huh?”

“Yes,” She closed her eyes, savoring the way his curved erection bounced off her walls, “yes...yes...yes.”

“Yes yes what?” Erik asks while pounding into her on the edge of the couch, “you got my balls heavy with this nut, what’s that yes for, huh?”

“Your dick is just so big inside of me...all up in me…”

Erik threw her legs over his shoulders and rocked into her with a force that has her ass lifting off of the couch to meet his thrusts. It was like magic to her the way her body reacted to him. She grasped his biceps, her bouncing breasts hitting her chin the more he picked up speed. He would thrust fast then slow, repeating that, making her tip over the edge.

“Can I cum please?” She pleaded.

“As long as I get to cum in this pussy, girl,” Erik pulled all the way out, his eyes staring down at her stretched hole, “Can I cum in this pretty pussy?”

“Cum in your pussy, Erik.”

That was all he needed to hear. Erik angles his hips so that he could stroke her G spot with his wide tip. Y/N’s toes curled, her thighs squeezing Erik’s neck. She felt her body shaking and convulsing while his pulsating dick reached depths inside of her she didn’t know existed. 

“Oooh, I’m gonna cum,” She mumbled, mouth opening and closing with no sound coming out. She hit Erik’s chest with weak blows before her heavenly pussy pulled his dick into a tight embrace. Erik growled as his glutes tensed. He could feel his veiny dick swell inside of her like he was ready to pop. Erik watched his big dick spurt thick load after thick load into her pussy. 

“Damn, Y/N, FUCK GIRL, look what you got this dick doing! Let me see all of it.”

Erik pulls out watching his jizz ooze out and on the couch. She rubbed her clit while pushing his cum out and Erik’s eyes rolled shut at the beautiful view. 

“Lift that ass up...Turn the fuck around I need some more pussy..waited too long for this...watch how I handle you girl.” 

Y/N turned around on the couch, whimpering when Erik’s hands came down on her ass hard to force her to move. As soon as she was on her stomach, Erik yanked her hips hard, pointing her ass into the air before slamming back inside of her pussy. She didn’t throw it back on him, too eager for him to do all of the work inside of her pussy. 

“Just lay there and let me take care of this pussy…”

Erik kicked off his pants, his hands slapping her ass before they grabbed hold of her plush hips so that he could bang into her. Erik watched her face, wanting to see every single reaction his fat dick gave her. He had her for sure, especially with the way she drooled on the couch. 

“Fuck yeah this pussy is good-

“Oooh-

“Yeah? You feel me digging this pussy out? Huh? This dick about to bust…”

She gasped when she felt Erik’s heavy balls hit her clit. He was pulling all the way out and slamming back inside of her with so much force her body would shake. She spaced out when he arched her back more, his hand reaching around to grab her neck from the front. 

“You ain’t going nowhere,” He spoke harshly, “You were doing so good taking my dick, baby...DON'T disappoint me.”

She heard his warning, her arms trembling the more she stayed still for him to use her pussy. 

“Think I’m playing with you? Huh?” Y/N moaned sharply, cumming on Erik’s dick again, “There you go… creaming all over this dick baby…”

“Erik,” She felt him swelling inside of her, “Erik I feel your dick! It’s stretching me!”

“That’s because I’m about to nut, stay just like that.”

“Oh, my-“

Her fat pussy lips gripped him tightly while his thick cum coated her walls again. Erik didn’t pull out, He kept thrusting until he was satisfied. She made little noises, her eyes droopy while his thick pipe covered in his white cum slowly left her pussy. His release had him shouting curse words to the ceiling in that studio. Erik’s hands left her hips, stepping away to allow her body to relax. 

He was glad he waited to have her. It was even better than what he expected. She laid back on the sofa, staring down at her pussy covered with his cum, all swollen and thoroughly beat up. 

“I can’t wait until tonight to see you, Y/N.”

She looked up at him through her lashes with her thighs still wide like she was silently telling him to get up in her some more. Bottom lip pulled tightly between her teeth, Y/N admired Erik’s cum-covered dick. 

“I wanna suck your dick,” Y/N asked but she didn’t wait for a response. Y/N was on her knees crawling to him. His glistening dick rested on her lips before she opened wide with her tongue covered in saliva, her lips drawing him in. Breathing through her nose slowly, Y/N took her time sucking more and more of Erik’s dick. 

“Shit, baby! Okay,” Erik licks his lips, “you tryna’ make me cum again, huh?”

Y/N didn’t respond to him she was all in: locked and ready to take off. The consistency in the way she sucked him even though she couldn’t take all of him...the crease in her brow and the way her head moved in sync with her warm, wet mouth made Erik moan. 

“I NEED THIS...suck daddy like you mean it.”

Y/N tried to go lower but ended up gagging, her lips pulling back so she could breathe comfortably.

“Don't worry if you can’t manage as long as you're kneeling down you will practice until you do...Ooh that’s nasty,” Erik’s mouth fell open when she went down to show his balls some attention, “you better get sloppy on this dick and stop playing.”

“Yes, Daddy,” She knew that would make him growl when she said it. 

“Got them brown sugar lips on my big black dick, mmmmm,” Erik started panting, his hands twisted in her braids, “damn...some beautiful sexy lips Unh I’m cumming baby...I’m cumming… Unh, get this nut baby…”

Erik found himself shooting off on her face because his hips jerked so frantically that his dick slipped out of her mouth. His cum hit her eyelids, trailing down to cover her cheek. Erik watched his cum drizzle down her neck, thinking about buying a ring for her after the monster head she just delivered. With an uneven breath, equally shocked by how much nut his balls produced, Y/N cleaned herself off with her fingers before doing the same to his dick. 

“Daddy didn’t even have to tell you to clean me up, such a good girl,” Erik pulled Y/N up before grabbing her neck, his fingertips applying just the right amount of pressure before pulling her close so he could taste himself off of her tongue, “You’re coming with me, no need in going back home when you were coming to see me later anyway.”

“True,” She blushed before sucking on his bottom lip, “When we get back to your place...more fucking?”

“You’ve been teasing me all these months...it’s time you make up for that shit...yeah, we’re fucking, girl...still gotta get in this ass.”

“I’d try it with you...I’m a little nervous though-

“You’re gonna enjoy it so much, trust me,” Erik gives her a reassuring smile with his dimples, “get dressed, baby girl.” 

Y/N slips away, walking to her vanity to get dressed while watching Erik do the same. Going back to his place this time around knowing that it’s going to involve more sex has beaming and while she rushed to get dressed. As he ties his Jordan’s Y/N thinks about the sex doll. She wouldn’t mind watching him fuck the doll while she sat in his recliner chair and fingered her pussy. She’d wait to ask him about it. 

“You’re ready?”

Y/N looked around at the studio. She could come by tomorrow and clean up a little.

“I’m ready,” She says while running her hand through her braids, walking forward to grab Erik’s hand. He lead the way to the front of the studio, both of them inflamed and fighting the urge to fuck again. 

@tgigoldie @soufcakmistress @chefjessypooh @chaneajoyyy @pananegra @theblulife @becincere @blaqwidow91 @fish-outta-watah @eyeknowmywrites @crowngold @njadakillthiscookie @blktinkerbell @luvanxi @sheisexcellent1 @chocolatedippedinhoney @brandithecrystalgem @dababydababydababydababy @soulfulbeauty19 @btitannaaa @sunkissedebony97 @youngblackndgifted @harleycativy @rbhp @thee-germanpeach @thadelightfulone @palmstreesallday @skylahb @bakaris-shorty @nizzle-mo @truglori @queenflaws @ljstraightnochaser @theegoldenchild @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @nickidub718 @vikkidc @thehomierobbstark  @abluesforlyssa @abeautifulmindexposed @fd-writes @chasingsunlight @sickaddiktions @munteanhore @xo-goldengirl @tiava143 @33kiara@honeytoffee @asiasblackworld727 @momobaby227 @informalmelancholy @soulshinechronicles @hearteyes-for-killmonger @goddessofthundathighs @soulfxll @whazzzupmyhitta @seyven89 @lahuttor @janelledarling @shewritestheblues @fanfangal @kreolemami @thoughtsoftheantagonist @luvwitoutlimit1 @mygirlrenee @hippiesandpeacesigns @alittlejd @jaysaidhi @thewaysheis--awkward–awkward–awkward @walkrightuptothesun @shawnstacksss @theesotericqueen @mareethequeen @browngirldominion @ceeverse @therealmrsrhodes @sensitivelegend @teheeboo @yomiloo @msreshel-blog @bbygirrll05 @fahi0nanart @afteracouplepuffss @shaelyn102 @yaminax-kuss-a @lackbbaby @amyhennessyhouse @thattruckinwitch @dameshaemonique  @glittermakesmesmile @justgetitoverwith0  @notavintagecliche @pariahcolored @cydneyrenee4 @ajjiiaaahhhh @naeelyniecee @ambthegamer​ @efonteno​ @mikesteel20​ @wisenerdcreator​ @draggingstxns​ @eevolsidog​ @xoxomyaah​ @asweet-serendipity​@therealmrsmbjordan​ @ajspencer1892​ @queengodiva619 @niqui87 @quietpoeticheart @itsjustyazz @dasia21 @woah-express @bbgiirrll @backandbetter2 @megabriahall @forbeautyandlife @queenflaws @cecereads209 @queenbetter @yomiloo @daddys-baby-girl-t @lovinthemelanin @ladymac82 @ambitionwood @t3mporaa @toniilaney @iv0rysoap @sinfully-dope @lovehatecritique @chocolategirl605 @naysianaee

#killmonger smut #killmonger x reader #killmonger fanfiction #nahimjustfeelingit-writes #killmonger imagine

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Drifters ch.2 (spicyhoney)

Summary:  Edge doesn't exactly have a plan, here, now that he's hit the goal of getting to Underswap. Luckily, an unexpected person is ready to take over.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Violence, Rescued Child, Medical Experimentation, Babybones

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~~*~~

Stretch had never struck Edge as the person to turn to during any sort of emergency. His laissez-faire attitude about life was one generally matched by his own brother and by Sans, but Red at least understood when some urgency was necessary, at the very least in the interest of staying alive. Unfair as it was, Sans was also given something of a mental pass for simply looking so much like Red and if he’d been thinking clearer, Edge might have chosen a flight plan to Undertale instead. Typing in the coordinates for Underswap was more an automatic reflex on his part than any direct decision; he was simply here more often and while he might not mind sharing a bed with Papyrus, putting it to use the same vigorous way he often did with Stretch didn’t have quite the same appeal.

So it was something of a surprise for Stretch to immediately take over.

Once it became clear that questions would have to wait, he got moving immediately, his slippered feet going far faster than Edge had seen before. In short order, Edge and the baby were wrapped in a heavy blanket that was ripped right from Blue’s bed going from the cheery rocket ship pattern. Red was firmly tucked into another, snoring underneath it before the blanket was even settled.

“i gotta hit the store real quick, we don’t have anything in the fridge for a baby,” Stretch panted as he made another mad dash down the stairs, this time directly to the front door. He didn’t wait for an answer, already kicking off his slippers and stuffing his feet into his sneakers, the door slamming loudly behind him.

Well. That was…unexpected. Edge might have more room to spare for astonishment and perhaps a touch of guilt over his assumptions if he weren’t so exhausted; such emotions would simply have to wait.

The house was silent except for the baby. Now that she was warming up, her little pleading snuffles were slowly resuming in volume.

He drew back the corner of the blanket, carefully keeping his hand out of reach of her tiny grasping fists before she tried stuffing his fingers back into her mouth. As uncomfortable as the gnawing had been, he was more concerned with her accidently hurting herself on his sharpened fingertips than her little teeth.

It was the first chance he’d had to really look at her since that first moment in the lab and he took the chance to study her carefully. Her eye lights were pale white, offering no hint to the color of her magic. Perhaps they’d stay that way, Stretch and Sans’s were white when they weren’t using their magic, or perhaps they’d change as she grew older and they would be more like Blue’s…or his own. It was possible, she was from Underfell, but there was no sign of that in her. Her teeth were blunted, except for the little points of her canines, and her skull softly rounded, giving her the appearance of chubby cheeks.

She was merely a child, a skeleton child, there was nothing remarkable at all about her, and Edge knew very little about children. That was a fact very quickly proven when her small face suddenly screwed up into a ball of anger and she began to scream.

“Don’t do that…!” Edge began, then trailed off, cursing his own stupidity. Yes, a stern talking-to would certainly calm a bawling child. He shifted her awkwardly in his arms, giving her into a little bounce as he tried to coax her instead, “Shh, shh, it’s all right. It’ll be all right, baby.”

The child was having none of his lies. Her hands were clenched into tiny fists, her little face sufficed with bright pink that had nothing to do with her magic and everything with the purity of her anger as she shrieked her rage for all to hear.

Exhaustion gave way to panic. LV maddened Monsters attacking him, Edge could handle, a howling baby was far, far out of his area of expertise.

At the other end of the sofa, his traitorous brother didn’t even stir, not even when Edge gave him a kick. He only lay with his mouth open as his snores competed with the baby’s screams in volume, and Edge couldn’t even accuse the bastard of lying; he’d used a lot of magic in their escape and was as exhausted as Edge, more so.

Tears were beginning to roll down the baby’s chubby cheeks and humiliatingly, Edge felt a faint prickle of his own tears. He hadn’t cried since he was a child himself, how ironic that it was another child dragging it out of him. That was all he needed, the two of them blubbering together on Stretch’s sofa for him to find, while his brother snored away, that would certainly be an impressive sight. Why had he ever thought for even a moment he could manage this, he knew next to nothing about babies. All he’d done is drag the child from one horrible situation to another.

The door opened just as he ran a hasty arm over his sockets, wiping away any revealing moisture as Stretch stepped inside, juggling numerous bags in his arms as he kicked the door shut.

“okay, back, sorry it took so long, the dogs dug some baby gear out for us, said they’d bring more later…woah, hey, what’s all this?” Stretch dumped the overflowing bags by the door and before Edge could protest, whisked the baby into his arms, settling her on his hip with a practiced bounce. “c’mon now, princess, got a broken volume control? you’ll be waking up the folks in new home if you keep up at that level.”

The screams faded into pitiful hiccoughs as the baby looked up at Stretch with wide sockets and when he gave her a playful little chuck under the chin, she let out a watery chuckle. Stretch grinned back at her. “that’s more like it, sugar butt. let’s get you something for that empty tum, yeah?”

If he hadn’t been so relieved, Edge might have resented how easily Stretch took over. As it was, in only moments the baby was propped up in a nest of pillows, gurgling happily as she drank from the bottle Stretch gave her. She was swimming in one of Blue’s t-shirts, the arms rolled up enough to let her easily grasp the bottle. Her eye lights were following Stretch’s fingers as he broke up a cinnamon puppy into bite-sized pieces into a small plastic bowl with colorful animals painted on the side.

Edge frowned. “Isn’t she too young for that?”

"nah," Stretch said carelessly. He slid from the sofa to the floor, long legs folded under him as he set the bowl in easy reach for little hands. “we’re born with teeth, may as well use 'em.”

"Nonetheless, the sugar—"

“relax, edgelord, these ones are meant for her age,” Stretch reassured him. “i promise, i’m not about to turn your little sweetheart into a sugar fiend on you. not until she learns how to brush, anyway.”

The baby was already inspecting the bowl, her discarded bottle close by as she happily stuffed bits into her mouth, smearing crumbs over her small face. Not that he’d expected Stretch would do anything to harm her, but the promise, unnecessary as it was, was comforting. It did bring up another point, however, ‘his little sweetheart’ was entirely his responsibility, he’d chosen this, and now he needed to find their path, in whatever direction it might lead.

Stretch was watching the baby eat and his smile might be careless, but his watchful gaze was not. The instinct to come here was the right one so far, Edge could only hope it remained so.

"I must ask that you let us stay here for a while," Edge said stiffly. "If not my brother and I, then at least the child. We…can’t go home right now." Or ever, but that wasn’t information that needed shared just yet. If he couldn’t care for her, at least he trusted that the Swap brothers would. Sleeping in the rough in Underswap would at least be relatively safe, certainly in comparison to their universe.

Stretch’s head whipped around, his mouth dropping open as he stared at Edge. "are you serious right now?"

The question stung. He’d assumed Stretch wouldn’t mind caring for the child for at least a little while. "Yes, of course, I am. She's an infant, she needs a roof over her head. She can't possibly—"

"shit, you really are,” Stretch interrupted, and his expression was torn between irritated and incredulous, “yes, dumbass, you're staying with us, why is this even a question? you ain’t getting off that easy. besides, you really think you'd be able to get little miss here away from blue when he sees her?"

Edge smiled reluctantly, already imagining Blue’s starry-eyed excitement when he saw the baby. "I suppose not."

The baby chose that moment to add to the conversation, offering a loud, razzing, “brrrr!” and spraying Stretch with a fine mist of slightly used cinnamon puppy crumbs.

“thanks, kid.” Stretch said wryly as he wiped his face on his sleeve. He crawled over to one of the bags and pulled out a stack of cloths, using one to wipe the baby’s face clean despite her vigorous protests, “so. you gonna tell me where the snow princess came from?”

"She's not mine,” Edge said automatically, then winced. “I mean, she is, she’s my responsibility, but she’s not mine, not in that way."

Stretch slanted him a glance, “yeah, uh, i saw you two days ago.” His faint smirk was fraught with memories of that particular meeting. “you weren’t hiding a baby bump under your shirt then. unless you not only solved the problem of getting pregnant but also how to bypass the waiting period, i figured she wasn't. sooooo?”

It was lightly said, but he’d seen Stretch’s smile falter when he was changing the baby’s clothes, peeling away her plain, sterile blanket to reveal the similar gown she was wearing beneath it. Not the cozy warmth of pajamas that a child should wear or even a borrowed shirt like the one she was in now, but a hospital-style gown with brusque ties in the back for easy access.

The story needed told, but Edge found he didn’t want to tell it. The scars he knew were on Stretch’s lowest rib were faded, scrubbed and sanded down until the numbers were barely visible. But they were still there, just like his brother’s were, and both were a match the fresh ones that were stark on the child’s own fragile rib.

In her little pillow nest, the baby was beginning to drowse and Stretch took the bottle, pulling it from her sleepy mouth and wiping away a trickle of milk. He tucked a blanket gently around her, not the discarded one from earlier, but one from the seemingly endless depths of those bags, soft and fluffy, cradling her tiny, precious skull in fluffy warmth as she slept.

But the pointed lack of further questions were a quiet demand of their own, giving Edge time to answer, but still needing one.

Edge slipped down to sit on the floor next to Stretch, wrapping up in the warmth of his borrowed blanket as he stared down at the baby. Watching the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed easily, safely asleep for perhaps the first time in her extremely short life.

“It started this morning,” Edge began, slowly, and kept his gaze on the baby, watching as she slept on, completely unaware of the turmoil she’d caused in his life, in all their lives. “When my brother said that he had something important to show me.”

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #drifters

[myouki]

Sparklers and Snakes and Spinners, Oh My: Chapter 2 (End)

Happy Fourth of July to those who celebrate it~

Chapter Warnings:

Swearing

Credits:

Lotus: @nekophy

Rurik: @angeutblogo

***

As Lotus began to reach for the box to toss its contents, his companion spoke, "So... how does this work?"

"Huh?"

He looked up to find Rurik staring at him with an unsure expression, still holding the small yellow box, "Do I just light it, or do I do something else first?"

Once he realized what was being asked, a cheeky grin lit up Lotus's face, "Well, first you open the box-"

"Okay smartass," Rurik huffed, rolling his eye lights and digging his finger into the flimsy cardboard siding. Once he had the box open, he stared at the contents before questioning, "... Candy? I thought these were fireworks..."

"Give it here," Lotus held out his hand, fishing out one of the 'candies' and unwrapping it to reveal a set of pellets. He set them on the concrete patio, and Rurik watched curiously as he flicked on the lighter wand and touched it to each of the pellets.

Rurik cringed in anticipation as the pellets caught on fire, the gaped when they started growing; the surprise was quickly replaced by a bark of laughter, "They look like shit."

Lotus did a double-take, "What?"

"No seriously, they look like pieces of shit growing out of the ground!" Rurik vehemently explained, gesturing to the charred coils still winding around themselves, "it even looks like they have assholes around them!"

Taking a closer look at the snakes and their resulting burn marks on the concrete, he couldn't deny the resemblance. A firework popped in the distance around the same moment he begrudgingly accepted the comparison; he pinched his nasal bone in resignation, "Oh stars, I can't unsee it..."

"I know, right?! They look like what comes out the day after I cooked!" Rurik cackled, watching as the last of the snakes crumbled in a flicker of dying embers.

The comment had Lotus doubling over in laughter as he tried to counter, "I don't think you're that bad anymore..."

"I've nearly set the kitchen on fire how many times?" Rurik gave him a knowing look that had him clamping his mouth shut. His partner had unusually bad luck with the oven, so he really couldn't say anything.

Wiping the tears from his sockets and taking a calming breath, Rurik turned his attention back to the container of goodies. He pulled out another package, gave Lotus a sly look, and snickered, "Lotus Lanterns, huh?"

"Shut up, the guy said they were the best spinners he had," Lotus grumbled, snatching the box from Rurik's grasp and pulling out a pair of pink disks. As he reached for the lighter, he remembered something and put the fireworks back down on the ground.

"What are you doing?" Rurik asked as Lotus picked up a bucket.

Lotus turned on the water spigot and answered as the bucket filled, "These ones move around, so we need some water ready in case they go into the grass. I don't need a spinner setting the yard, or my starter garden, on fire."

"Ooh... yeah...," the taller cringed at the idea, glancing at the two trees and the stair shelf of flowering plants at the far end of the yard. While Rurik normally wouldn't care about some plants getting charred, there was an unspoken agreement that Lotus's carefully tended plants were not to be screwed with; any perpetrators would have hell to pay. Rather than earn his little firecracker's scorn by scoffing at the precautionary measure, he nodded his skull along in silent agreement.

Hauling the bucket full of water back over to the box, Lotus set out the spinners and lit the tails sticking out before hauling Rurik to his feet and pulling him back into the grass. The taller monster jumped as one of the fireworks sprung to life, closely followed by the second, whizzing around and shooting colored sparks at each other. In the middle of the display, he shouted, "OH!"

It was Lotus's turn to jump as he quickly settled himself and asked, "What is it?"

"Those things," the skeleton gestured toward the spinners. "They remind me of that one T.V. show... what's it called... they had those top things with different animals living in them that would battle each other... agh, I can't remember what it's called!" Rurik scrubbed at his skull, irked by the lapse in memory. Lotus hummed to himself, trying to figure out what his boyfriend was talking about as he watched the fireworks sputter to a stop. "Ah come on, you have to know about it; it was all over the place when we were younger!"

"I didn't get to watch television when I was younger... at least, not unless my parents were already watching something, so I can't help you," the smaller shrugged, stepping forward to retrieve the burnt-out remnants of cardboard.

Rurik cringed at the reminder, "Right, your parents were shitheads." Digging into the box again, he tried to lighten the mood, "then let's face two of these bad boys off against each other and see which one lasts longer."

"Alright then, you're on. I pick that one," Lotus grinned, choosing his spinner and handing over the lighter so Rurik could do the honors. Placing them on the ground and lighting the fuses, the taller monster jogged back to his companion to watch the battle; it only lasted for thirty seconds as Rurik's fizzled out and spun to a stop. The smaller glanced over at his boyfriend, reveling in the expression that morphed from surprise to disgruntlement as he quipped, "I guess that means I won?"

"Rematch," Rurik grunted, pulling out the last two spinners from the box, "I'm picking this one." Hurriedly tossing the used ones into the trash pile and lighting the new ones, he moved back and stared at the spinning fireworks with a focused glare that made Lotus glad his boyfriend couldn't hear his laughter.

These spinners lasted longer this time, with Lotus's winding down first; as it slowed to a stop, Rurik pumped his fist into the air and whooped, "Yeah, I won! Suck it!"

"I think I'll pass," Lotus rolled his eye light, stepping back onto the patio and reaching for the pack of sparklers.

"Aww, and here I was hoping we could make some fireworks of our own later," Rurik put on a wounded expression, but the theatrics of it all alluded to it being nothing more than teasing with no real intent to push the issue.

"You'll have to settle with this for now," Lotus replied, passing one of the sticks over to Rurik and lighting it. A mere second after the sparks flew, his boyfriend gasped and dropped the stick in a panic. Carefully picking it up from the cement and handing it back to them, he reassured them, "As long as you don't hold the lit end, it won't burn you."

"Right...," the skeleton mumbled, taking hold of the sparkler to cover his embarrassment as Lotus lit his own. Waving it around a bit, he asked, "Sooo... is it supposed to do anything else?"

"Not really," Lotus answered with a shrug, tracing shapes in the air with his sparkler, "They're not the most exciting firework; they're mostly for kids or people who want something more low-key."

"It smells weird," Rurik wrinkled his nasal ridge.

"You're not supposed to sniff it, genius," Lotus joked, getting a tepid look in response. In retrospect, he probably should have started Rurik off with the sparklers since they were pretty dull compared to the other things he got. "Oh well, they can't all be winners," he stated as his sparkler neared the end of its lifespan, "the last one's a little more exciting."

"Oh?" Rurik tilted his skull in askance. Smiling coyly, Lotus stuck the dead sparkler stick into the trash container and pulled out a colorful box with the words 'Laser Sabers' barely visible in the fading twilight. Pulling out one of the items he heard his boyfriend directly over his shoulder, "a sword? Or is this another one of those spark sticks?"

Lotus chuckled at the assessment, turning toward them, "Not quite, watch." Unwrapping the fountain, he pulled over a spare pot of dirt and stuck the bottom spike into the soil up to the circular base. Setting the pot on the patio a safe distance from the rest of the fireworks and the house, he grabbed the lighter, lit the fuse, and pulled Rurik back into the grass. The skeleton opened his mouth to question the action but startled when an orange pillar of light shot up like a volcano while pink and green sparks flew a good four feet into the air and showered the ground around it.

Rurik anxiously murmured, "Is it supposed to do that?"

The uncertain question and a worried glance was met with a pat of reassurance on the shoulder, "It's doing exactly what it did in the video. If something does go wrong, we have a bucket of water as well as the hose." Despite how intimidating it looked, everything was under control; the last thing Lotus wanted was to give his boyfriend a reason to dislike fireworks more. Seemingly accepting his words, Rurik turned their attention back to the display as the pillar began to change colors alongside the sparks, creating a rainbow glow against the plastic siding of the house.

By now, it had gotten dark and other people were setting off much noisier fireworks in their own yards and in their driveways; it was a bit grating for Lotus, but Rurik looked completely unfazed thanks to his headwear as he watched at the light display. As the sparks began sinking back toward the ground a minute later, he voiced his opinion, "I'll give it to you, that one looked pretty cool... But I still like the spinny ones better."

"I'll make sure to get more of each next year," Lotus said, pulling the used fountain out of the pot and replacing it with a fresh one. Lighting it and jogging back to his boyfriend's side, he leaned against their shoulder as they watched the dazzling display; tonight was shaping up to be-

"BEYBLADE!"

Lotus shot to attention, stumbling sideways and staring at Rurik in confusion, "Wh... what?"

"Beyblades; that's what the little bastards were called!" Rurik exclaimed gleefully, digging into his pocket and pulling out his phone, "Hold on, I'll show you what I'm talking about."

Letting out a shaky huff, Lotus opened his mouth to tell Rurik off for scaring him... but the words died in his throat when he noticed how relaxed and happy his boyfriend looked browsing their phone with the lights from the fountain firework dancing across them. He couldn't help the warmth that welled up within him, feeling like he had accomplished his mission for the evening and then some.

"Here, this is what I wa-," Rurik looked up from his phone, pausing to cock a browbone, "Hey, you okay?"

"Y-yeah, I'm great," Lotus plastered a smile on his face to cover the fact that he had been gawking and moved closer so he could see the screen, "Show me what you found already." His smile grew as Rurik turned his attention back to the phone, excitedly showing off his search results as the fireworks around them bathed their backyard in ambient light.

#Fell!Poth #Lotus #Fell!Goth #Rurik #Fell!Palette #SaSaSOM #Short Stories #MyWriting #Swearing

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Tumblr tag || Also on AO3

Chapter 45: Martin Prime

“I Spy, with my mental eye, something that begins with…C.”

“Croft?”

“N—yes. Wait, how did you know that?” Jon sounded slightly indignant. “I didn’t even know you knew that word.”

Martin snorted. “Then you’re cheating.”

Jon sighed theatrically. “All right, fine, but which croft?”

“Hmm.” Martin pursed his lips thoughtfully. “The one two hills over, with the stone fence that was falling down in places. The one you had a hard time not seeing as sinister.”

“Well done.” Jon cupped Martin’s cheek in his hand and gave him a gentle kiss. “Right, your turn. Let’s go with…hmm. Let’s say Gertrude’s storage unit.”

It was a silly and relatively pointless game, but Martin loved Jon so much for coming up with it. They’d played I Spy several times when they were in Scotland because Jon had misunderstood Martin’s attempt to explain the one helpful thing he’d been given during his brief stint in therapy, but it had helped both of them, so Martin hadn’t told Jon until much, much later that it wasn’t what he’d meant. Still, it had been fun to play, and it had given them a brief moment of levity during their trek through the fearscapes between their tiny haven of sanctuary in Scotland and their ultimate destination in London. Martin had joked about playing it at Christmas, and Jon had apparently taken that to heart.

He’d come up with this variant not long after, and they’d played it a few times since. One of them would select a location they were both familiar with, and the other had to try and remember what it looked like, then pick something to “spy”. One part game, one part memory exercise, it was a continual surprise to Martin how many little details he could still picture in his head.

He sometimes suspected Jon of changing his answers solely so Martin could be “correct,” in the same way that Martin had never had a favorite color until Jon had guessed it to be green, but at least it was a fun exercise.

“Right,” he said, trying to cast his mind back over the storage unit. That one would be trickier. There’d just been so much crammed into a relatively small space, and Martin had admittedly been a little distracted by relief over having Jon back and talking to him, seeming to actually enjoy his company. It was hard to focus on details beyond the plastic explosives crammed in the hard case.

“I Spy, with my mental eye—” he began.

Jon’s fingers suddenly touched Martin’s lips as he hissed a warning to stay quiet. Martin froze and held his breath, and then he heard what Jon did—voices in the corridor. They were muffled but distinct, which did at least mean it wasn’t someone who didn’t need to be down there, but…

After a moment, though, Martin caught a laugh that sounded familiar and relaxed. “It’s them.”

“That’s…not good. It’s the middle of the day.” There was a rustle as Jon got to his feet. “God, what happened now?”

Martin bit his lip. Being blind and living essentially underground meant his internal clock was a bit off, but he trusted Jon. If it was midday, that meant it was Wednesday; Past Jon had been gone less than two days. He was probably still in Beijing. Nothing bad had happened to Jon while he was in China, unless there was something he hadn’t told Martin, and he probably hadn’t even had time to get into Pu Songling yet. Which meant something had happened to one of the others. Best case scenario, they’d uncovered a statement that bothered them or they wanted clarification on. Worst-case…

The door opened, and Past Martin’s voice came in, obviously in the middle of a sentence. “—like I’m offering to show you a pipe of Amontillado we’re keeping down here, it’s—oh, hey, you’re up already, that’s good.”

“What’s happened? Did something go wrong?” Jon asked urgently.

“Depends on your definition of ‘wrong,’ I suppose.”

There was a slight, nearly imperceptible creak as the door opened wider, and then a short pause before a female voice that sounded rather familiar spoke. “Is this some kind of a joke?”

Martin sat up a little straighter. “Melanie?”

He felt a surprising mix of delight and regret. He’d come to like the feisty firebrand in the short time they’d actually been able to get to know each other, despite the strain of the world having ended, and one thing he’d privately lamented when they’d made the decision to come back in time was that he wouldn’t get the chance to talk with her again, so having the opportunity was an unexpected pleasure. On the other hand, the fact that she was here and being brought down probably meant that she’d been trapped into working at the Institute, and that sent a stab of aching melancholy through his heart. They’d wanted so badly to keep her from turning bitter and angry…

She didn’t sound angry, though, at least not yet. Then again, their Melanie hadn’t at first either. “Are you clones or—you knew my name. What are you?”

Martin couldn’t help the grin that curled across his mouth, even as he got to his feet. “Me? Oh, I’m the Antichrist’s plus-one.”

The surprised laugh sounded like Tim’s. Melanie actually sounded delighted. “Does that mean he’s the Antichrist?”

“Assuming you’re pointing to Jon, yes.”

“Melanie.” Jon sounded like he was struggling to keep his composure. “It’s—it’s good to see you. What are you doing here?”

“Getting initiated. Or hazed, maybe. Depends on how you want to call it.” There was a rustle of fabric, and Martin guessed Melanie had just folded her arms across her chest. “You’re looking at the newest Archival Assistant.”

“Oh, Melanie,” Jon murmured, his voice full of regret.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, evil fear things, spooky stories, you can check out any time you like but you can never leave, today we are canceling the Apocalypse, blah blah blah.”

“Any other pop culture references you want to throw out there?” Martin asked dryly.

He could imagine Melanie shrugging. “I mean, you might have to give me a minute to come up with a few. But they told me all about the crap they have to put up with. We have to put up with, I guess.” She paused. “So, neither of you really answered my question.”

“Melanie King, meet the Primes,” Tim said. “Jon and Martin, meet the crazy woman who knew what she was getting into and did it anyway. Ow!” he added, punctuated by the dull, wet smack of somebody being punched in the side. “Jeez, what were you, a boxer in another life?”

“You say that like I’m not a boxer in this one,” Melanie grumbled. “I just don’t compete is all. Prime whats?”

“So you know those pop culture references?” Past Martin said. “Here’s one more. They’re—they’re Jon and me, from the future. They’re the reason we’re trying to stop the Apocalypse. The reason we know we need to stop the Apocalypse,” he corrected himself. “Tim calls them the Primes, like—”

“Like Spock Prime. Got it. Okay.” Martin could picture Melanie’s scowl pretty clearly; it had been more or less her default expression for a while. “Well, then. Unless one of you can mind-meld, you’re going to have to prove that some other way.”

“No, fortunately, the ability to plant thoughts and memories in someone’s head is one I was spared.” Jon sighed heavily. “I—I don’t know if there’s anything I can…m-most of what I know about, about your future counterpart are things that haven’t happened yet, o-or the others could have told us.”

Martin pursed his lips as a thought occurred to him. “I can think of one thing, but you probably don’t want it bruited about.”

“I seriously doubt that there’s anything you can come up with I wouldn’t want them knowing.” There was a challenging edge to Melanie’s voice that was all too familiar.

“Melanie—” Sasha began. Great, everyone was there.

“No. You think you know some big secret about me, something I wouldn’t have told you until later? Fine. Say it. I look forward to being able to look you in the eye and tell you you’re wrong.”

Martin sighed in exasperation. “You got shot by a ghost while you were in India. In the leg. You told the doctors it was a—a mugging, right? They couldn’t find anything in the scans, but trust me when I say it’s probably still in there.”

There was another one of those long pauses. “Fuck.”

“I did warn you,” Martin pointed out.

“You did, and I should have listened.” Melanie snorted. “I mean, obviously. I’ve only been working here for three hours and I already know that’s the number one Archives rule: Always listen to Martin.”

“Excellent life advice, both in the Archives and out,” Tim agreed.

“Both of you shut up,” Past Martin muttered, but without a lot of heat behind it.

Martin laughed. “It really is good to—we have missed you, Melanie.”

“You guys must have had a really rough few years if we’ve known each other long enough for you to miss me,” Melanie said, but he could hear the smile in her voice anyway. “For what it’s worth, it’s good to meet you.”

There was a bit of an expectant silence before Jon made a flustered-sounding noise of surprise and tapped Martin’s arm. “She wants to shake.”

“He’s not an idiot,” Melanie snapped. “If he doesn’t—”

“No, I’m blind. Sorry, should have warned you.” Martin reached out and found Melanie’s outstretched hand.

“Oh.” The slight pull against Martin’s arm was the only clue he got before Melanie—at least he assumed it was Melanie—surged forward and hugged him instead. In his ear, she said, “You look like you need it.”

“Well, I’ll never say no.” Martin didn’t need physical contact quite the same way Jon did, but it did give him comfort to feel a friendly touch once in a while. And it was substantially more important now that he was blind to have a tactile connection to the world around him. He was just momentarily caught off-guard; he’d forgotten how much shorter than him Melanie was.

After a moment, Melanie pulled back. “Right. Do I get an explanation or is it ‘you’re from the future’ and we leave it at that?”

“We can explain. Right, Jon?” Martin added, raising an eyebrow in his fiancé’s direction.

“Right. Of course. Ha-have a seat.” Jon sounded like the entire situation had put him off balance. “We’ll see what we can do.”

In a lot of ways, it was easier than when they’d told their story to the crew the first time, close to a year ago now. First of all, the team was aware now of a lot of things they’d had to explain, and Melanie had lived through at least some of it, so there was less to catch up on. Second of all, Tim, Sasha, and Past Martin were able to help fill in a lot of details. Including some things even Jon and Martin hadn’t been aware of.

“And then the world ended,” Jon concluded, much as he had the previous year. “And Martin and I…well, eventually we decided to try and put it back.”

“By coming back in time? How’d you even know you could do that?” Melanie asked. “Is it in one of those statements up there?”

“No. N-no, I don’t—I don’t think so. I don’t know how the Keeper found out about that passage back. That wasn’t our original plan,” Jon said slowly. “I’m not completely sure we had a plan, come to think of it.”

“Head to London, kill Jonah Magnus, and hope for the best,” Martin said with a shrug. “Push the big red reset button. I don’t know. I think we were still figuring it out when we got there.”

He could hear the frown when Melanie spoke next. “Sorry, I’m new to all this, I’m sure you’ve been over it a lot, but—how did you know you could? Can’t imagine the big scary fear god that thinks it’s won just…giving you a map to all its vulnerable spots or whatever. How did you know there was even a way to fix it?”

“We didn’t,” Martin said simply. He felt Jon lean against his shoulder and wrapped an arm around him. “But we had to try.”

There was another long pause before Melanie spoke again, her voice almost too soft to be audible. “Who else survived? Besides you two?”

“What?” Jon asked with a frown.

Martin realized she had almost been too soft to be heard; he’d only caught it because he had to concentrate so hard. “You, Georgie, and Basira. And the Admiral. But in our timeline…Sasha’d been gone for years at that point, she died when Jane Prentiss attacked us. And our Tim died in the Unknowing. Once Daisy went over to the Hunt, we were the only ones left.”

“The whole rest of the world died?” Melanie demanded.

“No,” Jon said quickly. “No, not—not yet. They would have. Eventually. But no. After the Fears came through…the world divided largely into two categories. Watcher or Watched. You were either trapped in a fear’s domain or—or observing one.”

“So which one was I?”

“Neither. You and Georgie, you were both sort of…outside it. I don’t know that you were the only ones, either, but you were the only ones we knew about.” Jon paused, then added, “You kept going into domains and—rescuing people, actually. Or trying to. These tunnels are a blind spot, and that didn’t change even when the Institute became the literal center of the world. You and Georgie would run into a domain, get someone out, and bring them down here.”

“And inadvertently started a cult,” Martin added. He couldn’t help the slight smile that tugged at his mouth. “You hated it.”

“God, yeah, I would have. I swear, the worst part of Ghost Hunt UK is dealing with the fans. I just got into it to investigate the paranormal, not to be famous doing it.” Melanie sighed heavily. Martin felt bad for her. “So what happened to us? After you left. Did you erase the whole future timeline so none of it ever happened, or did the three of us have to either fix it ourselves or live in a post-apocalyptic hellscape for the rest of our natural lives?”

“I—I don’t know.” Jon sounded incredibly shaken.

Martin rubbed comfortingly at Jon’s shoulder. “We left before…we didn’t get to tell them we were going. The Keeper—the one who helped us get back in time—he promised he’d let them know what was going on, he said they’d be safe. As far as I know, we didn’t…that timeline still continued to its end. I just don’t know when its end was. And unfortunately, we never will. Personally, I think what would have happened is that when the Keeper told everyone that our plan went to hell and Jonah got away, your counterpart would have said ‘fuck this’, got a knife, and gone after him herself. She kept trying to kill him in our timeline and he saw her every time. I don’t doubt for a minute that she’d take advantage of the fact that he literally wouldn’t have been able to see her.”

“Why not?”

“Same reason he can’t see me. Because she was blind, she was immune to the Eye. And as hard as she was working on her anger, I think she knew how to turn it into a weapon. Also, she hated Jonah.” Martin sighed. “So yeah. We don’t know what happened to everybody in our timeline, but if anyone could fix it, it’d be our Melanie. Correcting the Apocalypse with a knife and sheer spite.”

“Damn right,” Melanie said. Someone turned a laugh into a hacking cough.

Jon sighed and leaned against Martin’s shoulder. Martin shifted slightly to settle him into a more comfortable position. After all these months, the movement was as natural as breathing. “I’m so sorry, Melanie. We—we’d hoped we could keep you out of all this.”

“Hey, don’t take away my right to choose. I knew what I was getting into.”

“Did he ask?” Jon asked. “Or did he just hire you?”

“Of course he asked.” Melanie sounded exasperated. She dropped her voice to a lower register and did a very poor, mocking imitation of Elias’ drawl. “‘I understand that your show is on a hiatus, and with Jon off traveling, I’m sure Martin and the others could use some assistance. Jon spoke quite highly of your research abilities. Would you be interested in a paid position here in the Archives?’ I could have told him to fuck off if I’d really wanted to.”

Martin replayed the words in his head a couple of times. “Yeah, sounds like he flattered and dangled bait in front of you, but didn’t actually force you. Very carrot and stick.”

“So why did you say yes?” Sasha asked, sounding curious. “Knowing what you were getting into, more or less?”

Melanie sighed heavily—Martin was incredibly familiar with that sound—but to his mild surprise, it was Past Martin who answered. “She told us that, Sasha. Or at least indirectly. She—you said you started Ghost Hunt UK to investigate. And when we were having lunch before you left for India…I saw how animated you got when you were talking about that student film you did. The supernatural, the paranormal, it’s genuinely something you’re interested in. You agreed to join the Institute because it lets you do all that and get paid for it, with the added bonus of not having to deal with people if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah, basically. And, you know, if I can help save the world, that’s a nice little plus, too.”

Martin heard the rustling of fabric, but he honestly couldn’t have said if it was a hug or a light shove or what, and Tim’s next words made him none the wiser. “Thought you couldn’t read minds.”

“I can’t. I just know people.” Past Martin’s voice softened. “I promise, Tim. I’m not developing any new abilities.”

From the way he said that, Martin could picture quite vividly what Tim’s face had to look like. It was probably somewhere between the way he’d looked when he’d brought Sasha her coffee after she’d been attacked by Michael and the way he’d looked when telling Martin what had happened to his brother—a mixture of concern and fear and maybe a little bit of heartbreak. Tim really did worry about the others developing powers from the Eye, but there was probably an additional layer here because it was Past Martin.

Martin did know people. He had a fairly intuitive sense for the mood of a room and the way people interacted. In his timeline it had led him to play peacemaker, or try to, attempting to mediate between Jon and their Tim. In this…go-round, he supposed…it mostly meant he was picking up on a lot of things that weren’t being said, or at least weren’t being said aloud. He’d heard the fabric rustling, the lighthearted banter, the genuine laughter. He’d picked up on the gentleness in Past Jon’s voice that reminded him of the way Jon had spoken to him so often after Prentiss attacked, after he’d been accused of murder, and especially during those agonizing months he’d been working with Peter Lukas and they’d been so close and yet so far apart. He’d noted the affection in Tim’s voice, the way he’d tried so hard to control his anger and fear and actually talk to them. And of course he knew himself, and by extension his past self, knew what he sounded like when he was trying to navigate a simple conversation without wearing his heart on his sleeve, when he was trying to throttle back an emotion he desperately wanted to express but didn’t think would be welcome…or safe.

He knew love when he heard it, and dear God, if it had been that obvious to him for so long, he was already mentally betting with himself against how long it would take Melanie to call them out on it. Because he also knew hidden love, and he was willing to venture that they weren’t trying to hide their relationship because they thought it was inappropriate in the workplace. He was willing to bet all three of them thought it was unrequited on their part and that they had to keep it hidden from the others lest they be shot down.

He’d never really thought about polyamory himself, but in retrospect, yeah, maybe he had had a bit of a crush on their Tim. At least for a while. That would never have gone anywhere, though.

“Do we need to get out of here?” Melanie asked. “I mean, is Big Nose McCreepy going to notice we left the Archives essentially abandoned?”

“No, we’ve got a bit,” Sasha said. “He’s supposed to be meeting some of the Institute donors for a lunch of some kind. He’s not on site and he’s going to be occupied for a good while. I’m kind of hoping he gets a little tipsy, too. Anyway, he thinks he’s got us over a barrel right now. He thinks he trapped you into the Institute, so he’s feeling smug enough that he’s not going to pay attention to us for a while. His plan is to give us the rest of the week, at least, to let you ‘settle in’ before—”

“Sasha!” Jon said sharply. He sat up so suddenly it almost pulled Martin off-balance.

“Oh. Oh, shit.” Sasha inhaled abruptly. “I swear that wasn’t on purpose.”

“That’s—Christ, Sasha, you shouldn’t be able to do that from down here—”

“I didn’t—I Knew that before we came down. I’m pretty sure.” Sasha took another deep breath. “Right, okay. I don’t know who’s nominally in charge while Jon’s away, but—I think maybe I should take tomorrow off? Just to…recalibrate. Ground myself. Get some distance.”

“Take the rest of the week,” Tim suggested. “I don’t know who’s nominally in charge either, but—”

“I’ll stand in for your Jon,” Jon said. “Tim’s right. Take a good long weekend. Don’t think about the Institute, or the Archives, or the Fears. Just…I know it’s easier said than done, but try to distract yourself.”

“I think I have a way of doing that.” Sasha sounded thoughtful. Martin was pretty sure it was sincere.

“What do you do?” There was a hint of a challenge in Melanie’s voice, but also a good deal of curiosity. She was genuinely asking. “When it gets too much. What do you have that keeps you from—doing whatever it is you shouldn’t do?”

“Going out and pouncing random people to draw their traumas out of them,” Jon said dryly. “And I have Martin. He’s been my anchor for…much longer than I realized at the time. We’ll read or—or talk, or take a walk or something. We played cards a lot when we were in Scotland.”

“We were playing I Spy earlier,” Martin added.

Sasha snorted, but Past Martin seemed to actually understand. “Like a memory game type version?”

“Basically, yes. We pick someplace we both know—or knew—think about what was in it, and pick something for the other to try and guess. Five tries or less. And no mind-reading.”

“It’s still your turn,” Jon reminded him. “The storage unit.”

“Hmm.” Martin thought for a moment, then smiled as he remembered the one thing he’d fixated on while they were there. “I Spy, with my mental eye, something…brown.”

Jon made an exasperated noise. “I swear that must have been her favorite color. That could be anything.”

“Well, then, you’d best get guessing.”

“Fine.” Jon sighed heavily. “The…box full of dolls.”

“Nope. Guess again.”

“The book? The one we didn’t know what it was?”

“That was black.”

“It was—never mind.” Jon sighed again. “The notebook?”

Martin shook his head. “Come on, Jon, think. This is me we’re talking about. What would I have been looking at?”

“The…the frame on the painting with the dogs in it.”

“One guess left.”

“Give me one more hint.”

“It was the first thing that gave me hope in weeks.”

Jon was silent for a long while. Finally, he said, “I give up. I honestly, genuinely cannot think of anything that was brown that might fit the criteria you’ve given me. What do you spy?”

Martin’s smile widened. “Your eyes.”

There was a chorus of awws and exaggerated gagging sounds in equal measure from the other four, but from the way Jon took his face in both hands and kissed him, tenderly but thoroughly, Martin could tell that his choice had had the effect he wanted.

#leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall) #ollie writes fanfic #tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #jonmartim