#2460 words

[albertxylin]

Karmic Keys

I forget my keys on the train, And a stranger flags me down to give them back as I get up to leave. A week ago I found a stranger's wallet left behind on a seat, And handed it in to the station. Apparently karma believes in prompt equivalent exchange.

#2460 #this is apparently what happens when I wear very loose pants #but yeah almost immediate karma in a good way #writing #original poem #poetry #spoken word #poem #daily poem #spoken word poetry #poems

[lxndonorris]

back inside the cockpit - Max Verstappen (SFS24)

Y/N x Max Verstappen Theme: Smut (you've been warned) testing begins and you're joining Max during his stint. Tension rises, between the smell of rubber and the roaring of the new Red Bull. word count: 2460+ taglist: @game-set-canet another part of the suit fitting saga 24 (SFS24), if you have any request, let me know! Next one is about Lando :)

As the new racing season looms on the horizon, you find yourself drawn into the whirlwind of excitement that engulfs your boyfriend, Max Verstappen, a professional racing driver. Joining him for the tests marks the beginning of an exciting and promising year of high-speed racing.

Inside his private quarters, the anticipation hangs thick in the air as Max showcases his sleek navy blue racing suit for the very first time. With a mischievous grin, he catches your eye before slipping into the tight, dark undergarments—the fireproofs—each deliberate movement meant to show off a little.

Running a hand along your own thighs, you bite your lip. Looking down at your own clothes—the new Red Bull team gear—you're drawn to the thought of him holding you close, the faint scent of his cologne engulfing you both. It's his shirt that he gave to you just minutes prior. He wore it to the track this morning; it is still warm and smells like him. It's a little wide, but that's okay—it's his, after all, and that's what matters.

You lift your eyes, just in time to catch him tugging his trunk into his trousers. Max, watching you the whole time, smirks—he looks so good with his bare chest still on display and his thighs filling his pants easily.

Then, he slips into the upper half with a low groan, and one arm at a time, the tight fabric swings itself along his bulging biceps, shoulders, and pecs.

You vividly recall the countless hours he spent in the gym, pushing himself to the limit as he sculpted his body into a lean, mean racing machine. Drenched in sweat, his muscles straining with exertion, he remained unwavering in his pursuit of excellence, each drop of sweat a testament to his dedication and resolve.

"Like what you see?" Max teases, his voice low and husky as he flexes his muscles, the fabric molding to his form with effortless precision.

You nod, unable to tear your gaze away from him, the desire pooling in the pit of your stomach as you admire the way the fireproofs hug his every curve.

"You look incredible." You murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, as you reach out to trace the contours of his chest, the fabric smooth beneath your fingertips.

With a chuckle, Max captures your hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it before slipping into the rest of the racing suit. 

Still running your other hand across his firm chest, he draws you close. His lips mere inches from yours, Max presses a tender kiss against your lips.

"It feels good," he purrs into your mouth, "but I need to put the rest on." 

Chuckling, you pull away slowly, your eyes meeting his in a locked gaze. 

"Can't wait to see it all," you say, patting his chest, You stroke him again before he takes a step back.

With practiced ease, he begins to don the racing suit, each movement fluid and deliberate as he allows you to linger in the space between you, your fingers tracing the lines of his body with gentle reservence.

The fabric clings to him like a lover's embrace, the zipper inching upward with agonizing slowness as he reveals himself to you in all his glory.

Piece by piece, he assembles his racing ensemble, each article of clothing a tantalizing glimpse into the raw power and athleticism that lie beneath. With each touch and each caress, you feel a surge of desire course through you, igniting a fire that threatens to consume you both.

As he fastens the last buckle, his eyes meet yours, a smoldering intensity burning within their depths. Pulling you close, Max allows you to feel the strength of his arms, the solidness of his chest, and the desire building up inside him.

"It feels so good to be back." He exclaims, a bright smile spreading across his soft lips.

"I can tell." Running a hand along his waistline, you let your fingertips barely brush across his crotch, the dark fabric concealing his longing excitement.

With a smirk, he nods toward the door. "We've gotta go."

Together, you make your way toward the garage, the scent of gasoline and rubber mingling with the heady rush of adrenaline as you near the track. 

Standing side by side as Max adorns himself with the essential gear—gloves and a helmet—you can't help but feel a sudden swell of pride and aluurement at the sight of him, his passion and determination radiating from every pore.

"Ready to show them what you're made of?" you ask, your voice filled with unwavering support as you watch him settle into the driver's seat.

Max flashes you a grin, his eyes alight with excitement. "You bet," he replied, his voice tinged with anticipation as he revs the engine, the roar of the car drowning out the world around you.

As he speeds off onto the track, you linger in the garage, your heart racing in tandem with the thunderous roar of the engines. Watching him maneuver with grace and precision, a sense of awe washes over you, a deep-seated admiartion for the man who never ceases to amaze you with his skill and passion.

Through the cackle of the radio, you catch snippets of his laughter, a symphony of joy reverberating through the air. In that moment—behind the wheel, pushing the car to its limit for the very first time.

Just by the tone of his voice, you can tell he is as excited as ever, with his passion for racing echoing through the radio. You know how much he loves this, speeding through corners and flying down the straights while giggling to himself.

For a while, you watch the new Red Bull finish more and more laps, being tested to its core.

When Max returns, your heart trembles in excitement.

As he steps out of the car, a wave of exhilaration emanates from him, visible in every movement and every gesture as he navigates the bustling garage with an air of confidence that is impossible to ignore.

The way he carries himself speaks volumes—a man at the top of his game, ready for another season and its challenges lying ahead.

With a huge smile plastered across his face, Max engages in animated conversations with the mechanics, his enthusiasm infectious as he shares his experience with the new car on track.

His eyes sparkle with excitement, a mirror of the joy that dances within his soul, as he makes his way toward you.

As Max draws near, his gaze locks onto yours, a magnetic pull that leaves you breathless in its wake.

Without hesitation, he pulls you into his embrace; his body presses firmly against yours, making sure to hold you close.

"How was it?" You ask, running a hand across his chest, tracing the letters written on his suit with your fingertips.

"So good." Max tries to hold back a soft moan. You're the only one who is meant to know how he feels right now.

He is completely enthralled by driving that car, with adrenaline and desire pumping through his veins—pure hedonism.

Unable to tear his gaze away, he drinks in the sight of you adorned in his team's merchandise, a proud smile gracing his lips as he adores the way the colors complement your features. 

With tenderness born of passion, he leans in, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. Lost in the sweetness of his embrace, you melt against him, your heart beating on time with his as you savor the fleeting moments of intimacy amidst the hustle and bustle of the racing world.

Now, it's his Checo's turn to speed along the track, and the two of you decide to head back into Max's quarters.

Inside his motorhome, the air crackles with electricity as he peels off the upper half of his racing suit, revealing the snug fireproofs that hug his form like a second skin. Every movement seems amplified, every contour of his body is highlighted by the adrenaline coursing through every fiber of his body.

Max runs a hand across his thick chest, his muscles rippling beneath the fabric as he turns to face you, a confident smirk playing at the corners of his lips. Running a hand through his tousled hair, he exudes an effortless charm that never fails to leave you breathless.

"I'm so hard right now," blurts out of his mouth as he grabs himself through his tight racing suit. Due to its color, it's barely able to hide the bulge forming inside his trousers. All of this excitement building up inside him is revealing his feelings for racing, but also for having you by his side.

"Do you feel that too?" he asks, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine as his gaze locks with yours. 

In that moment, with the weight of his gaze bearing down on you, you feel a surge of desire unlike anything you have ever felt before.

Steadying yourself against his strong frame, you lean in, the distance between you evaporating as your lips meet in a fervent kiss.

"So much," you breathe into him. "I just need you so much." His muscles tense at your slightest touch. 

Teasing him, you trace the contours of his form, your fingers dancing across the expanse of his chest, eliciting a low rumble of pleasure from deep down within his throat. Pulling you close, he envelops you in his embrace, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

The embrace grows tighter the more passionately you kiss each other. Both of you let your hands encompass each other's bodies, and with every little stroke and every soft touch, you give in to him more and more.

Your hand manages to slip underneath his tight shirt, feeling his warm skin and his firm muscles against your skin, giving you goosebumps.

At the same time, his hands are cupping your boobs, touching you firmly yet lovingly.

"Mhmm." You moan into him once more when he starts to grind his crotch against your thighs, making sure to let you feel his ever-growing length.

"Now?" Max's rough voice breaks as he tries to catch his breath. "I can't hold it in any longer."

His entire body is aching for relief, and he is asking you to help him find it. Your own is craving him as well, with all of you longing for him—the touch of his skin against yours, the whispered promises of unbridled passion and desire.

"Fuck." You growl once his hand slides in between the two of you and between your legs. "I need you." 

With one swift motion, he somehow manages to unbutton your jeans while you two make your way through the room. Unable to find the sofa in time, you end up with your back against the cold wall.

"Max." You let out a low groan while he keeps on kissing you, his hands now inside your pants, his fingers knowing his way around your body just like he knows the way around the different tracks. "It feels so good." 

Steadying yourself against his strong frame again, you stroke his chest and let your hand run down his body, tracing the tangible outlines of his abs through his shirt before you touch his member.

Easily, your hand slips into his racing suit and his fireproofs, touching him firmly.

Like you pushed the right buttons, Max leans his head back, one hand on his own chest, the other still inside your pants.

Your jeans slowly drop down to your ankles as he removes his hand, needing both of his hands to please himself.

"Y/N." He shudders, slowly regaining his composure, turning his head to face you again. His beautiful eyes are burning brightly, and their gaze threatens to smother you whole.

Effortlessly, you pull his dick out of his pants and fondle him for a while as he embraces you fully.

Max then leans in again, kissing you hard, this time much more possessive and determined to make you his.

Being so busy pleasing him, you don't even notice him pulling at your underwear, removing them just enough for him to fit inside you. Leaning back against the wall, you give in to him.

With a tender kiss, he slips inside your body, both of your minds shrouded by the blissful passion engulfing the two of you.

His groans, moans, and familiar smell make it easy for you to let him guide you further and further as he starts rocking his hips against yours.

Max is slowly increasing the strength and pace of his thrusts, with one of his hands pulling up your leg to make it easier for him. To steady yourself, you wrap one arm around his neck while the other strokes his chest firmly, encouraging him to keep going.

Your bodies are moving as one; Max's rhythm is easy for you to follow; and you enjoy how tight his body presses against yours.

After what feels like an eternity, you reach your limits, and simultaneously, you climax—a sensational feeling of shared desire and relief.

Max still holds you close, placing kisses all over your neck while you run a hand through his messy, sweaty hair.

"I needed that." He growls; his usual rough voice sounds much deeper, huskier, and smoother.

"Me too." Kissing him, you enjoy each other's embrace for a little while longer before he separates himself from you.

You help each other change clothes, replacing every article of clothing with a loving kiss, a gentle touch, and a shared smile.

Before it's time to leave the motorhome, you take one last look at Max's racing suit, now hanging in front of the cupboard door—a beautiful piece of art. You trace the letters of his name written on the waistline, knowing that he is yours after all.

Then, hands run along your waistline from behind, pulling you back into a warm hug.

"Thank you for being there for me, always." Max breathes into your ear, his chest tight against your back, just the way you like it.

"It's my pleasure." You reply, then turn around to look into his now soft face.

He is wearing the Red Bull shirt now—typical Max—but you wouldn't want it any other way. Stroking his chest again, you enjoy how tight his body still feels and how his clothes accentuate his form so well.

"I like that." Max lets out a guttural growl before smirking again. "It smells like you now." He blushes slightly.

"But it's mine once we're done here." You pinch his nipple playfully, causing him to giggle.

"Of course," he leans in, kissing you again before it's time to head to a team meeting.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #Max verstappen smut #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 x you #F1 smut #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic

[yourstrulybluelover]

Title: Heat

Pairings: Na’vi Reader (23) x Lo’ak (20)

Warnings: MDNI

Contains: fingerings, oral, p in v, rough sex, forced, dom Loak, sub reader

Word Count: 2460

The hunting party decided to split up in an effort to catch the next meal. Meat has been scarce lately due to the Strumbeest retreating further into the hinterlands. This only made your jobs more challenging as the hunting party would now have to spend more days away from home to provide food for the clan. It's been a day already and 3 miles from home. You would have packed some belongings to camp out, the team expected to spend at least three days to get enough meat for the clan. You sighed in desperation, beads of sweat dripping down your neck and back, the weather has not been kind either. This dry season was one of the hottest the clan had ever encountered. Strangely enough, everyone was not as bothered by it today as you were.

“Y/n, how you doing over there?” Jake called out to you as you propped yourself up by the tree.

“I’m fine sir.” You breathed out rapidly as you stiffened up trying to regain your stance. You did not want to appear weak, it was rare for women to be a part of the hunting party but not impossible, three other women were already part of the team, and two decided to stay back to assist the clan with fishing.

“I told you we don’t need to bring women with us they just slow us down.” Your ears perked at the sudden comment, and your face grew hotter from the share gall of that comment you opened your mouth to turn to the younger Navi man but your were abruptly interrupted.

“HEY! We don’t make those comments here! Keep that narrow-minded thinking in your hut! Y/n has more endurance and more kills than you, so watch it!” Neteyam hissed as he flashed his fangs.

You shot him a thankful glance, to which he nodded in acknowledgement before returning to his father, Jake. You smiled as you observed Akwey shoot glares at both you and the Sullys. Neteyam has always backed you up no matter what, part of it was due to the fact that he was your hunting instructor at the get go. Insulting you was like insulting him and his teachings.

“Don’t worry about them y/n, you felt a familiar smack on your shoulder, they’re just jealous you’re one of dad’s favourites.” Lo’ak said smirking at you as he handed his canister offering you some water to combat the heat.

“Second to Neteyam, of course.” You said sheepishly.

“Alright guys we’ll split up.” Jake said beckoning the team to come forward. We know that the main river is here, he explained therefore if we split up we can reach them on either side, ambushing them.”

You nodded in acknowledgement before grabbing your bow and hunting knife. “Neteyam, you take your team and your brother and you head down east, we’ll go west.” Before leaving you see Jake whisper into Neteyam’s ear while looking in your direction.

“Alright guys we’ll split up, ensure your comms are working,” Neteyam said. “Lo’ak keep an eye on y/n, she doesn’t look so good, and we both know how stubborn she is.’’

“All right bro,

You rolled your eyes in annoyance. Usually you would have found some witty comeback, and purposely out run them to show them who was truly weak. However, the heat had you dazed, you were suddenly feeling weak when midway through the journey you stopped.

“Shit.” You watched as Neteyam led the team, beckoning some to take to the canopy of the trees. You felt a familiar wave overcome you as you began to sweat profusely. Your skin suddenly felt feverishly hot when the throbbing sensation began to grow in your lower stomach.

“Y/n?” Lo’ak stopped and turned to you, brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“I-I uh, shit, I uh I need to leave.” You stammered, face flushed from both embarrassment and agony.

“What? Y/n why are being so weir-” Lo’ak walkes swiftly towards you grabbing you by your arm when your pheromones punch him right in the nose. He loosens his grip and reaches to cover his nose. He stops to watch you, your body now soaked in sweat, your clothing and hair clinging to your skin, your top now clutching at every crevice of your mounds. Your eyes suddenly darken and pupils dilate as whimper escapes your lips.

Lo’ak turns away sharply. Walking away from you to meet with the team way ahead. You began to back away to continue to distance yourself from the party, avoiding the direction of the wind. One whiff of your pheromones and you’d have the team prying at you. You see in the distance Lo’ak and Neteyam mumble, before Neteyam sends the troops further up, with his second in command.

Lo’ak comes running towards you where you’re now propped up against the tree, in significant pain.

“Y/n, we’ll notify Dad so we can get him to send a Banshee to fly you back home. The comms are down so Neteyam is gonna go look for him. I’ll escort you back to base before the others pick up on your scent.”Lo’ak said hurriedly as he tied a torn garment around his nose and mouth in effort to prevent the infiltration of your intoxicating scent which has evidently gotten stronger.

“I don’t think I can make it back Lo.” You mumbled bent over in pain clutching to the tree.

“Y/n come on you’re stronger than this.” You hear Neteyam coach you, his hands are covering his nose as he struggles to maintain the distance between you two.

“So much for a woman being a part of the hunting party huh” you laughed as you lifted yourself up from the hunched over position.

You hear the brothers hiss at your bad joke in efforts of comforting you.

“Look after her brother.” Before you can thank Neteyam, he springs to his feet climbing to the canopy of the trees as he leaps from branch to branch.

Lo’ak leans to your side propping you on his shoulder as he guides you back to camp, unaware that his touch intensified your heat. Twenty minutes into the walk you began to feel your legs weaken. Not here. You thought to yourself. You pause, moving off from Lo’ak as he looks at you intensely.

“Break?”

“Something like that Lo” you mumbled breathlessly.

“I’ve never seen you like this y/n” he said huskily, his voice low, his face hardened.

“I had no intentions of anyone seeing me like this Lo, this one, this cycle is way off it’s normal course.” You admitted, slightly embarrassed that the Sullys are going to see you experience the onset of your heat.

You propped yourself onto a boulder, asking for water. He reaches out to hand you the canister, the garment over his nose seems to be useless as your pheromones permeate the forest air. You sip on the water in efforts to conserve, but the drops do nothing to tame the heat. You desperately splash the contents of the canister onto your face and chest.

“Don’t worry about it, I have another” Lo’ak says he back now facing you.

Your whimpers soon grow louder as you take advantage of the little privacy Lo’ak gives you. The heat growing between your legs intensifies with evey breath. In desperation to make it stop you quickly reach to touch yourself, but instead of easing the pain, it makes it worse. Your finger pressing slightly on your clothed clit does nothing but make it worse, you decide to push through. Rising to your feet only to collapse once more onto the boulder.

Lo’ak turns to face you, almost entranced by your weakened state, he takes a second to take it in, before reaching down to help you back up onto your feet. You both continue your walk back in silence minus your whimpers and breathless pants. Lo’ak’s grip is stronger and based on his contorted expression one can easily tell that his is fighting the pheromone scent. A sudden snap and within seconds you lose balance, clinging to the younger navi for support only to cause him to crash down with you.

You both groan in pain, looking up there is Lo’ak a tangled and heavy mess on top of you, your legs are sprawled, with his hips snuggly between them. The sudden pressure between your legs caused you to redden, as you began to feel the wetness pool. Lo’ak looks up to meet your eyes feeling the dampness, his eyes widen and the mess before him.

“Sorry y/n” he says huskily, quite aware of the moisture seeping from your loincloth.

You stutter in embarrassment.

“It’s okay y/n,sshh. I can make you feel better.” His eyes are no longer soft but narrowed, and lust-filled as he is now fully enthralled in your scent.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, to try and get up, but Lo’ak wouldn’t move. You contemplate for a minute as your eyes roam the younger Sully’s body tracing his chiseled shoulders down to his toned chest and lower to his abuse to see the vine dip, your core only getting hotter by the second.

“Just say it and I’ll make you feel better.”

You whimper at the sound of those words as you feel your conscience leaving you before leaning forward to press your lips into his. Within that second, all self-control gives way, you both are hungrily devouring each other rustling through the grass as you both undo your coverings His hands rough and hard, manhandle you as he strips you of your top to only grab the soft tender mounds and massage them roughly, biting and sucking at your neck simultaneously as you struggle to undo his loincloth. His focus now leaves your breast to your loincloth. In one swift movement, you’re naked before him as his fingers make their way to your folds. Expertly rubbing and massaging your clit before prying at your already wet entrance. His hands stop moving as he locks eyes with yours before plunging his fingers into yours. You arch your back a bit dumbfounded that the younger Sully was doing everything right. You reach down to grab his member, pumping him as he fingers you and soon your hand is covered with precum. He growls at the sensation and soon you find yourself begging him to fuck you senseless.

He flips you over on your tummy, lifting your hips slightly as he reaches down to now taste you. You gasp from emabrassment, but your heat makes you forget it in an instant. Your push yourself forcefully into his mouth while his tongure ciricles your throbbing bud. Your maons grow louder as you try to turn slight to catch a glimpse of Lo’ak. He smirks, stopping his assault before grabbing your hands, pinning them behind your back. He leans over, towering you, to kiss your check, dragging his fangs down your neck. You hissed at the sudden touch before feeling his mushroom tip push on your entrance. A sudden pressure is felt, as he pushes past, stretching your walls. You scream in both pain and pleasure, before the air is knocked out of you. A sudden thrust causes you to gasp, another hits your walls mercesillessy, another angled thrust finds your g-spot and now you’re spewing his name, begging him to make you cum as you push back onto his cock. Lo’ak lets go of your hands and now graps onto your fleshy waist, digging his nails into your skin as he rams himself into you forcefully. Your moans continue to grow louder as you feel your walls tighten with the familiar build in your lower stomach growing.

“Fuck y/n you’re so tight!” Lo’ak growls.

Within seconds you’re spewing your juices onto him as he throws his head back trying to hold his back. You scream his name as you grind yourself onto him to milk every bit of your cum from him when he suddenly spills into you. A wave of relief washes over you before you come to terms with what just happened.

You’re naked slumped on the forest floor and just had the sense fucked out of you by the younger Sully. You turn around to see Lo’ak recollecting himself with a smirk on his face.

“Didn’t think you were a screamer y/n”

Before you can answer you hear a familiar voice, stern and disappointed.

“Lo’ak what were you thinking!” Neteyam bellows, anger evident on his face. “You know better than to take advantage of someone in their heat, especially y/n.”

“Bro, I swear it wasn’t like that, her scent was so strong-”

“Shut the fuck up and get dressed! Your comms were on during the whole thing, I heard you!”

“Wha-, bro come on what are you talking ab-”

“You said just say it and I’ll make you feel better !” Neteyam yelled angrily.

Oh my god. You instantly went pale. “Did everyone hear?” You got up and asked flabbergasted while trying to tie your loincloth back on.

Neyetem doesn’t look at you, still angrily staring at his little brother. “No everyone ditched their comms as there was a signal problem due to the altitude, I kept mine on in case I contacted Dad on the way back.

You sighed in relief but couldn’t help but notice the bulge evident in Neteyam’s loincloth as he stared angrily at his brother. The familiar wave of your heat consuming you again.

P.S I hope you all liked this. I know I have some others to finish off lmao but this one just happened and I'm also not sure if I'll make a part 2 but it has been awhile since I posted. Thanks for the love thus far 💗❤️

Also the comms part was totally inspired by @puddleswimmingnerd-blog has amazing work particularly "Throat Comm Sex"🔥🔥🔥

#avatar fanfiction #avatar smut #avatar way of water #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak smut #loak sully #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #jake sully #loak x y/n #avatar movie #loak x you #smut

[gagmewitha-spork]

English Lessons (Leila Ouahabi x reader)

Warnings: none.

Description: Reader trying to teach Leila English is not going as well as hoped, but why?

Notes: hey! remember me? probably not, but I started writing this in like December and only just got it finished, I’ve got a couple of other fics in the works but going on how long this took to write it’ll probably be a while before they’re out 😬 (also not my gif, can’t remember where I saved it from tho so sorry if it’s yours)

Word count: 2460

“Leila”, you pause, rubbing your eyes, “this clearly isn’t working”, you speak in Spanish. You had spent four years playing for Atletico Madrid and had picked up the language surprisingly easy, so as a result of your fluency in her native tongue, Leila had immediately used her charm to convince you to help teach her English. The thing is, it was not going well, it seemed that she had reached a point and stayed there. You hadn’t seen any improvement in her ability to speak your native language for weeks now and you were honestly loosing hope, “I think you should just speak to the club, they can get you a proper teacher, which, might I remind you, you should have had from the beginning”.

“I don’t want another teacher”, she replies, in perfect, though still heavily accented, English.

“Well something here clearly isn’t working because every time we come in here you just get worse if anything”, you throw your hands in the air, feeling exasperated at the situation.

“I’m not”, Leila insists, “I am better, I just”, she pauses deciding whether of not she wanted to tell you the real reason she wasn’t improving, “look y/n”, she starts, beginning to reach out and take one of your hands in hers, but is cut off as the door to the conference room you’re currently sat in swings open, revealing your other Spanish teammate.

“Steph sent me to come and get you both”, Laia starts, speaking Spanish, “trainings starting earlier than planned because of the rain forecast for later”, she explains, “they want to get on before the pitch gets too bad”, she finishes and quickly disappears back out the door, not leaving either of you any time to ask questions.

“We better go”, you tell Leila, picking up the English practice books the club had provided you.

“Y/n”, Leila said, grabbing onto your hand before you could disappear after Laia, “my English is good”, she insists, though saying it in Spanish left you unconvinced, “you’re a good teacher, I don’t want another one”.

“Maybe try saying that in English and I might believe you”, you reply, your tone dejected. You left the room, heading straight to the locker room, before she could hold you back any more.

Leila pauses for a minute before following after you, hitting her head gently against the wall after you’d left, “Idiota, idiota, idiota”, she repeats quietly to herself as she does so, “solo decirle”, (just tell her) she mumbles to herself, throwing her hands in the air as she follows after you towards to locker room to get ready for training.

——

Training went well, the rain held off until the last few minutes so while you were definitely all completely drenched, the mud wasn’t too bad.

“Ice baths?”, Laia suggested to you as you all made your way back inside. It had become a habit that you, her and Leila would all go to the ice baths together after training or a game. Your ability to speak Spanish, and previous friendship Laia, having played at Atleti together along with Deyna, had meant you had developed quite a close friendship with all your Spanish speaking teammates. You would often spend time hanging out with them instead of your fellow England players, which of course had led to a lot of teasing from the likes of Lauren and Chloe, with them suggesting that you might as well go and play for either Spain or Venezuela if you enjoyed hanging out with them so much.

You nodded at Laia and grabbed your phone and a towel from your locker before following behind the young centre back and making your way into the ice cold tub next to her.

The two of you stayed mostly silent, both individually scrolling through your phones as the 5 minute timer slowly ticked down.

“So what’s going on with you and Lei?”, she suddenly asks out if no where. Your head whipped up to look at her, before your eyes quickly scanned your surroundings to make sure no one else was around to hear. Luckily, she’d chosen to speak Spanish so there would only be a select number of your teammates who would understand, but one of those happened to be the exact person you definitely didn’t want to hear.

“What?”, you scoffed, trying (and failing) to act as casual as possible at her suggestion.

“She likes you”, she states like she knows it as fact, “and I’m pretty sure you like her back so…”, she trails off.

“So what?”, you asked, before quickly following up with, “and she doesn’t like me”, you paused, “and I don’t like her, not like that”, you insisted.

The truth was, you and the older Spaniard had been dancing around each other flirtatiously for weeks, if not months, at this point. Your problem was you could never tell if she was serious. Leila was naturally a very happy, flirty person, a fact you knew well having played against her for years in Spain, and you had always gone along with it thinking it would never go any further beyond a flirtatious rivalry. But now you played for the same team, and what had started out innocently had developed into something you were afraid was becoming a little too real.

“Right”, Laia didn’t seem at all convinced by your argument.

The conversation ended there though, as the woman herself entered the room and made her way into the ice bath with the two of you.

“Who died?”, she asked, sensing an air of awkwardness around, “did I just walk in on something”, she asked, her eyebrows wiggling in a jokingly suggestive way. Neither of you responded, Laia just watching you as you refused to look up from your phone, “did I walk in on something?”, Leila asked again, a more serious tone to her voice this time.

Laia shook her head, rolling her eyes, both at Leilas ridiculous suggestion, and at your denial to what she could clearly see blossoming between you and the left back.

The three of you stayed silent for a while before Laia conveniently got a phone call and left you and Leila there by yourselves. Judging by the intense eye contact she sent your way as she left the room, you’d guess it wasn’t so much ‘convenient’ as it was set up.

“You want to have Sushi?”, Leila asked, in English, almost like she was trying to prove a point.

“Now?”, you question, as hers had been rather open ended and it’d become a habit for you to make every conversation you had in English a lesson for her.

“No, later”, she confirmed, rolling hers eyes at you as she knew what you were doing.

“Ask me again”.

“You want sushi later?”, she asked again.

“I might get sushi later, yeah, why?”, you were being difficult. You knew exactly what she was trying to say and she knew it, you just wanted her to ask it properly.

“You want it with me?”, she pushed, getting closer to how you wanted her to say it.

“Want what with you?”, you feigned confusion and she rolled her eyes.

“Do you want to got out for sushi with me later?”, she asked, in Spanish this time, as she’d given up trying to work out how to say it in English.

“No comprendo”, you shrugged you shoulders at her, acting like you didn’t understand what she was saying.

She slapped your shoulder, “You want to have sushi later, with me”, she finally says, though it sounds more like a statement than a question.

“I would love to”, you smiled cheekily at her. She shoved your shoulder lightly in response, “on one condition”.

“Ugh, what?”, she rolled her eyes.

“You have to speak English, all evening”, you state.

Your alarm sounded suddenly, signalling your 5 minutes in the ice cold water you hated so much was over and you immediately moved to leave the small pool.

A hand grabbed yours before you could make it all the way out however.

“This means we still have lessons for English tomorrow, yes?”, Leila asked you, the look in her eyes, combined with her thumb brushing over your knuckles almost making you melt.

You sighed, “Lei”, you paused, giving her a chance to pull you back into the pool, a little closer to her, “I really think you should get a teacher”.

“I have a teacher”, she insisted, grabbing your second hand, “she is the best”, the soft look in her eye was gradually changing into that look. You know the one, where her lips curve into that charming smirk, and for a second you think she might just lean in and kiss you.

She doesn’t, and you scold yourself for even allowing your mind to go there.

“We’ll see”, you state, removing yourself from her grip and exiting the pool.

Leila watches as you leave, and internally groans. She decides then and there that she needs to tell you how she feels.

——

It’s much later in the day when you find yourself taking a seat at a table opposite Leila. You’d lost count of the number of times the two of you had come here, it was definitely at least twice a week at this point, but you loved it.

“Let me guess”, Leila says as she picks up a menu, “onigiri?”, she asks, referring to the rice dish you got every time you came.

“You know me so well”, you smile back at her, before reading over some of the other options.

The evening goes the same as any other the two of your spent eating sushi together. Far too much food is consumed and you’ve talked about just about anything that had come up. Yet the conversation never got boring. It never did with her. And she had managed to speak English all evening, to a pretty good level too, only getting caught up on a few words.

You now found yourself walking down the pavement in the brisk Manchester evening air. The two of you had decided to walk home, your apartment buildings were right next to each other, as most of cities players were, and the walk was short enough for it not to be a trek, but long enough that it allowed your overfilled stomach to settle before going to bed.

There was a brief lull in conversation as you looked up at the sky, the night was clear, and even with all the light pollution from the city around you, you could make out some of the brightest stars.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you feel Leila’s hand intertwine with your own, causing your gaze to shift from the sky, to glance down at you now joined hands before coming to settle on her face. She was already looking at you, and unreadable expression on her face.

She was trying to read you, trying to see if what she was doing was okay.

“Lei, what are you doing?”, you asked quietly, but you didn’t let go of her hand.

“Holding your hand”, she explained simply.

You continue walking for a while. The silence between you comfortable, at least for you. For Leila, it gave her far too much time to think, and getting her thoughts together was becoming increasingly difficult.

She pulls you to a stop.

“Lei-“, you go to question her, but she cuts you off.

“You know I like you?”, she says, it’s phrased like a statement but the upwards inflection towards the end informs you it is actually a question. Knowing, however, does not help your brain fully compute exactly what it is she’s asking. Or is she telling you?

“What?”, is all you manage to get out.

“I’m not good in English”, she explains, you furrow your brow because the statement really doesn’t help clear any of this up, “in Spanish I’m good, I can flirt easy with you, but English is hard and I don’t sound good”.

“Wha-“, you go to say again, your brain short-circuiting at what she appears to be saying.

“I only want you to teach me English because I want to spend a lot of time with you”, she stumbles through the sentence in English and while your brain gradually catches up to what she seems to be implying, you struggle to fight off the smile that wants to form on your lips as you watch her, “I think you are amazing and beautiful and, and I don’t know any more English words that you are but I know there must be a lot”.

You’re just watching her at this point, as she adorably continues to mumble out words she thinks could potentially describe how she sees you, with the same smile plastered on your face from before, except now you’re not fighting it. Until eventually you can’t help yourself, the words aren’t coming to you anyway so instead of saying something you take her face in your hands and place your lips on hers, shutting her up immediately.

She doesn’t respond for a second, due to the shock, but as soon as she realises what’s happening, her hands are holding you against her instantly, and her lips move with yours in a synchronicity that honestly surprises you a little. In all your 27 years of living you can honestly say you’ve never experienced a kiss quite like this first one with Leila.

You pull away eventually, but your hands remain on either side of her face, your thumb running gently over her bottom lip, already wanting to kiss them again.

“So you-”, Leila starts but you cuts her off.

“You can speak Spanish now”.

She giggles lightly before speaking again, “if that terrible speech got you to kiss me like that I can’t wait to see what happens when I can use my charm properly”, she says in Spanish now, that signature smirk back on her face as her arms tighten themselves around you ever so slightly.

“Well it convinced me to help teach you English, so who knows what else you could convince me to do”, you teased back.

“Maybe we can find out back at my apartment?”, Leila suggests.

You agree and the two of you start heading in that direction.

“Just so you know, this definitely means you’re getting an actual English teacher now”, you tell her as you walk together, her arm draped over your shoulder and yours wrapped around her waist.

“Yeah I thought so”, she laughed, “I’m surprised you held out so long”.

“Well believe it or not, but I actually liked the excuse to spend time alone with you”.

“I knew it!”, she exclaims, kissing your cheek and guiding you into her apartment building.

#woso x reader #leila ouahabi x reader

[smellingofpoetry]

Last Time?

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Benny Lafitte

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: They promised each other it would be the last time.

Square/s Filled: “Age Difference” (@spnchristmasbingo), "Lingerie" (TMAS Bingo - @supernatural-jackles), "Dirty Talk" (@spnkinkevents), “Suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me.” (@anyfandomkinkbingo)

Warnings: age difference, smut, 18+, finger fucking, sex, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk

Rating: +18

Words count: 2460

A/N: Hi there! Not long ago I wrote a fic called “A few moments of madness” for the beautiful @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone. It was fun writing that one, especially the part where I left with that huge plot twist. I genuinely thought it was the end of the road for this story, though, until the inspiration hit me. And what was I supposed to do if not write it down? So, here we are today. I think I’m starting to figure out my way with smut, but I’ll let you judge that. Let me know what you think about it. Enjoy!

He was in big trouble.

Since his little accident with his best friend's daughter - if that's what you wanna call it - he tried to avoid Benny at all costs. He did a pretty good job if you asked him, until the Christmas holidays. He wasn't in the mood to celebrate since what happened with Lisa, and he definitely didn't want to spend Christmas under the pity glances his family would throw at him. Sunday's lunch was already too much for his own taste. So, he decided to spend Christmas alone for once. Maybe eating take-out on the couch just like a grown-up person would do. He had everything planned already until Benny asked him to join him for Christmas dinner.

Dean knew he should have ignored the bell ring - he knew it.

Either way, he agreed because it was Benny and because, of course, he felt guilty for what he did. So, now, he was stuck celebrating Christmas with his best friend and his daughter. Yes, the same girl he had fucked months ago, and he still jerked off at the thought of it, even though he would deny this last piece of information with all his strengths if anyone asked him.

Dean had a plan, though.

He had spent the prior night wide awake, planning his way through the whole Christmas dinner. It was a solid plan, and he was kinda proud of it. He just needed to stay away from Y/N and follow every step just like he had planned them.

What could possibly go wrong?

They were halfway through dinner and Dean was pretty sure he was going to hell. His plan, which was supposed to be solid, blow up in his face the moment he stepped inside his friend's house. He didn't even know how that happened, but here he was facing Y/N at the dinner table. He did his best to avoid her gaze and participate in the conversation, but if he had to be honest the only thing he could see was her bent down on his kitchen counter. Because of that he almost choked on his food on multiple occasions. Thank God his friend was too busy making sure everything was perfect for his daughter.

Yeah, his daughter…

Dean's thoughts trailed off again until he realized he was staring at her sweater a bit too much.

"Oh, crap, I forgot the beans."

Benny's voice caught his attention just in time to see his friend get up. Dean followed suit without thinking about it, too afraid to be left alone with Y/N.

"I'll go get them." he tried, earning a weird look from Benny.

"No, man, sit down. You're our guest. I'll be right back."

And with that Benny was already out of the room, leaving Dean with his napkin still in his hands, staring at the door. He cleared his throat, glancing at Y/N, who was watching him amused, before sitting down again.

"You're being weird," she told him while sipping her wine.

"No, I'm not." he scoffed, even though he knew she was absolutely right about it. Y/N raised one of her brows, watching him from the rim of her glass which earned an eye roll from Dean.

"Okay, fine, but in my defense, I just want you to know that when I came here, I had a solid plan to walk me through this..." he said, gesturing at them and the room they were in it.

"Oh, and how's going?" she asked amused, trying her very best to hide her smirk. Y/N figured she had done a poor job from the way Dean was looking at her - unimpressed.

"Clearly, it ain't working."

"Clearly," Y/N smirked, putting down the glass she was still holding.

Dean scowled at her, wanting to kiss that smirk out of her face. Wait, what? No. Absolutely, no. - he had to scold himself for thinking stuff like that about his friend's daughter, even if that same person was looking too damn cute for her own good.

"Okay, stop doing that."

"Stop what?" she asked with her brow raised in confusion.

"You know what! Never mind," he said, stubbing some of the vegetables on his plate with the fork. He didn't even like vegetables, for fuck’s sake. Y/N looked at him for a few seconds, glancing in the direction of the kitchen before leaning more toward Dean.

"Look, I know that we started on the wrong foot..."

"You can say that again." Dean scoffed, gulping down a generous amount of red wine.

"And I would like for Benny not to know about, you know..." she said, pointing at the two of them. "...us."

Dean sit up straight at that, putting down his glass and leaning more in her direction before speaking in a lower voice.

"He can never know about us," he said, panicked.

"So, could you, I don't know, act a bit more normal?"

Dean furrowed his brow, opening and closing his mouth a few times his mouth trying to find the right words.

"Yeah, right, right. I can do that," he assured her, even though he wasn't sure who he was really trying to convince, her or himself. She nodded her head with a small smile, satisfied by his answer.

"Great. And, oh, Dean, what happened between us..."

"...it can never happen again." he agreed, finishing her sentence.

Y/N was pressed against the wall, her Christmas sweater pulled up and her breast spilling out from her red bra. Her skirt was around her waist by now, while her panties were discarded somewhere on the floor. She could still picture Dean's face when he discovered the lingerie she was wearing under her Rudolph sweater.

Her breath hitched in her throat at the feeling of Dean's cold fingers against her hot skin. Y/N felt them travel along the inside of her leg until he reached her aching pussy. He ran his fingertips along her slit way too gently, making her ache even more.

"Please..." she moaned, letting her hips sway back and forth in search of some friction.

"You want more, hm?"

Y/N nodded her head enthusiastically, trying to stifle a moan and failing miserably. Dean smirked, biting down on his lips. Yeah, hell was definitely waiting for him, and he couldn't care much.

"Suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me, sweetheart," he whispered, taking away his hand from between her legs. Dean saw her open her mouth, sticking her tongue out for him and he had to restrain himself to not groan out loud. Damn, this woman - he thought while pushing three of his fingers inside her mouth. Y/N welcomed him without saying a word, sucking his fingers as if her life depended on it. Dean's free hand traveled down his pants, unbuttoning them to free his aching cock. He pushed them down just under his ass, taking down with them his boxer. His cock sprung free, tip red and precum already leaking. Y/N sucked at his fingers one more time before letting them free, licking her lips right after. Dean didn't even give her time to think about what was coming next and his three fingers found their way between her legs again. He circled her clit a few times before pushing inside her wet folds. He fingered her hard and fast, watching her take it thrust after thrust while taking hold of himself and giving a few strokes at his hard cock.

"Oh! God... Dean..." she whimpered, moving her hips against his hand while trying to hold herself somewhere, anywhere. She could already feel herself getting closer and closer, already tasting the pleasure when his fingers stopped, making her whine. Dean put his hands on her hips helping her move on her unsteady legs, positioning her in front of the bathroom mirror. He stayed behind her, watching her intently while his hands traveled along her body. He reached for her breasts, squeezing both of her tits in his hands and making her moan.

"You have to be quiet, now, Y/N. Can you do that for me, hm?" He asked her, licking the skin on her neck before latching his lips around her earlobe. She bit down on her lip, nodding her head at his question. Dean smiled with her earlobe still trapped between his teeth. He sucked at her skin one more time just for good measure before helping her lean forward.

"Bend down on the sink and spread your legs for me."

He didn't need to tell her twice. Y/N bent down, spreading her legs in the process. She felt exposed under Dean's gaze which made her even wetter than she already was. Dean bit on his lip, unable to take away his eyes from her glistening pussy. He took hold of himself, letting his cook brush against her folds a few times before lining himself at her entrance. He started to slowly push inside her, his eyes never leaving the mirror to watch her every single expression. Y/N closed her eyes, biting down on her lips to stifle the moans wanting to escape her. Dean let his fingers disappear between her hair, gripping a few of her strands and pulling them towards him. Y/N followed his movement arching her back and exposing her breasts even more.

"Open your eyes, babe. I want you to watch me fuck you," he whispered in her ear, feeling her shiver against him. She breathed heavily, taking a few seconds to regain control over her heart before opening her eyes just like he had asked her. The moment her eyes opened and looked at him through the mirror, Dean filled her with a deep thrust. Her whole body was pushed forward, and Y/N barely had the time to put one of her hands on the mirror to keep herself from crushing against it. She tried to follow every push of Dean's hips, matching his rhythm.

"Look at you, being fucked in your dad's bathroom by his friend." Dean panted in her ear, while still fucking her with a brutal pace. Y/N bit down on her lip harder, but she couldn't help the sound that came out of her at Dean's words. So, she put a hand around her mouth not trusting herself enough to be quiet, not when he was playing dirty. Dean smirked at her reaction, thrusting hard inside her while one of his hands went to her breast squeezing hard.

"Do you think he noticed your absence or he's too busy with the new year eve's party?" he asked her, knowing full well she wasn't going to answer him too busy pushing her hips against his hard cock. He let slip his free hand in between her legs, founding her clit.

"What would Benny think if he saw you right now, hm?" Dean felt her walls fluttering around his cock at that, making him falter for a moment.

Y/N let go of her mouth free even though she knew that wasn't a smart move, but the need to hold on to something was too much. So, she held onto the sink not being able to do anything if not stay there and take every push of Dean's cock ready to burst.

"Dean..." she whined, hoping that the music downstairs would cover her moans.

"You'd like that, don't you?"

"Oh God..."

"Say it," he told her, rubbing faster and faster at her hardened clit.

"Fuck... yes! Yes... yes..." she sobbed while the hardest orgasm of her life washed over her; her juices coating his cock. Dean groaned at the sight of her coming undone and after a few more thrusts he was spilling inside her, filling her up.

"Fuck, babe, yes." he panted in her ear, while his hips spasmed a bit more.

Dean collapsed on her, being careful to not crush her against with his weight. He breathed heavily, resting his forehead against her shoulders. Y/N rested against the cool sink, trying to catch her breath while letting her fingers travel between Dean's locks.

"That was..." he whispered, licking at his cracked lips.

"...the last time?" she asked him, scratching at his scalp making him moan.

"Yeah."

"You already said that yesterday after you fucked me on your couch..." she whispered, glancing at the mirror to look at him. Dean hid his face in the crock of her neck, grabbing at her breasts and squeezing them.

"...and the week before when we fucked in your car..." she whimpered, knowing exactly what she was doing while he bit down her skin.

"...and at Christmas dinner..."

Dean pulled hard at her nipples, making her gasp, and her core clenched around him but that seemed not to be enough to stop her.

"...half an hour later I was sucking you off, remember?" she asked, pushing him away gently just enough to turn around to have a better look at him. Dean let her move, still keeping her trapped between him and the sink, already missing the warmth of her pussy around him.

"Yeah, I remember that like I remember being balls deep inside you while your dad was sleeping three doors down," he whispered kissing her hard, letting his tongue swirl around hers.

God, she was able to make him a needing mess - he thought making a huge effort to push away from her. Dean licked at his lips, tasting her while slowly starting to recompose himself the best he could.

"We should get dressed and go downstairs before midnight," he said to her, bending down to grab her red lacy thong. She nodded her head, starting to adjust her bra before pushing down in his place her sweater. Dean kneeled at her feet helping her with her panties, pulling them up at her leg, and stopping halfway through to give one last lick at her wet pussy. Y/N shivered at that, opening her legs a bit more to give him better access at which she earned a gentle suck at her lips before he pulled her panties all the way up. Dean got up, kissing her one last time letting her taste herself on his tongue.

"You go first, and I'll follow in a few," he said to her, watching her adjust her skirt before walking to the door. She put her hand around the knob ready to turn it when she glanced at him.

"So, last time?" Y/N asked him just to be sure.

"Last time."

"Great, I'll see you back at your house then."

She winked at him before opening the door and slipping out of the bathroom. Dean closed the door behind her, resting his head against the cool wooden.

He was a dead man, but damn if it wasn't worth it. 

#spnchristmasbingo #spnkinkevents #anyfandomkinkbingo #tell me a story bingo #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester au #reader #benny lafitte #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural au #spn #spn fic #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn au #christmas #smut

[inzaynety]

he's a biter! ⤫

➢ summary: once you’re in his sights, hoshina has no choice but to leave a mark; or all the times he thinks it’s okay to sink his teeth in you and a time you return the favor

➢ content: hoshina x fem!reader, 2460 words, biting, some blood, suggestive & sex / nsfw, 3+1 things, friendship with okonogi & gen

➢ notes: so this man single handedly brought me back all motivated lol also i caught up on the manga ahaha and reader is a commander 🥴

You could say that being bit by a Kaiju was inevitable.

Everyday, going out and defending the public from them is your job and it always comes with risks. Hell, your arm was nearly chomped off yesterday if you weren’t quick enough to dodge right then and there.

Scratches, bruises, scars—all were familiar and just part of the job. It hurts, it stings, it stays with you until you do so much fighting you can just brush it off as another Tuesday.

They were Kaiju. They didn’t care.

You hiss at the sharp pain on your shoulder, your face giving way to an exasperated expression as you try to finish making breakfast.

That was not from a Kaiju. This one cared.

His teeth are sunk into your skin with enough force to leave yet another lasting mark. You can feel Hoshina smile against you before he pulls off, pressing small pecks to the dents and priding himself in feeling you shiver in his arms.

“You’re an animal,” you say, pushing an egg onto his plate but don’t make a move out of his arms. His bare chest is warm and you want nothing more than to fall back to sleep at the feeling. But that would mean commending his actions and his head is big enough as is.

“Am I, sweetheart?” Hoshina’s voice is low and gravely from sleeping so deeply only minutes before he decided to insert himself into your personal space. His hands trail delicately along your waist as he noses along the column of your neck, “Ya never push me away so I bet yer lovin’ it…”

You don’t say anything and he takes that as your answer, chuckling when you huff. He watches as you place the very hot pan down before he begins finding another suitable spot to continue. He settles on the back of your neck and while this time his bite isn’t so sudden, it still stings nonetheless.

“See?” He gently licks at the forming bruise and the lilt in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed. “It’s a lil too late and I know ya said I couldn’t leave anythin’ while you work, but please? Can’t let my girl go without a few more.”

Weighing out the options in your head, you realize you could never say no to him. So for the rest of the day you sport new red accessories that feel itchy underneath your gear.

—

Okonogi is a good friend of yours and she, along with the rest of the Third and at your own station, knew of yours and Hoshina’s relationship.

Your presence at the Third Division base wasn’t expected but was certainly not unwelcome from the multitude of members coming up and asking for tips or an autograph (Iharu was guilty of this and received a plethora of pushups as punishment). But your reason for being there was a secret to them.

“What are you doing here?” The familiar glare on her glasses catches your eyes first. Despite having your title, you were friends first and foremost so the flick to your forehead wasn’t a surprise.

“Ow! What the hell?” She only motions you out of her chair and places her items that you only shifted around in the mission of finding a pen to make some doodles to leave there for her to find. “Is it a crime to want to see my friend from time to time?”

Okonogi sighs but there’s no annoyance on her face upon seeing you again. It had been a while since you’ve talked in person but you supposed a time outside of work would’ve been better. If anything, you took the opportunity to tag along with your station’s operations leader and members to head to third.

Sora pokes his head in, still starstruck being in the presence of your friend while simultaneously being the professional he was. “Miss Okonogi? Do these numbers look right?” She stands up from her chair and walks over to him, hovering over his shoulder and giving pointers.

You take the opportunity to sit in her chair yet again and swivel around, looking at all the monitors and suits in the room below the control area. Feeling the stare of the third’s operation members beside you, you turn your head and greet them.

“Welcome to our base, Commander!” One of the younger ones says and you laugh at his enthusiasm. You were about to say something until you felt a rather unexpected sting on the top of your right ear. Immediately, you cover it only to have your hand caught by the culprit.

“Yes, welcome Miss Commander.” Hoshina has that grin he always bears and the surrounding third members avert their gazes upon the situation their Vice-Commander has created. Okonogi and Sora watch from the side, unimpressed with what was about to unfold yet again.

You hadn’t had the chance to tell him you were visiting as you thought it would be the day you could surprise him. He had been in training with one of the newer recruits so it wouldn’t hurt to visit and sneak up on him. So imagine your own when he did it instead?

“Sosh—Vice Commander Hoshina, what are you doing?” He only shrugs and stands back up, smiling oh so innocently.

“Nothing really.” And he just up and walks out of the room, leaving you in a flustered mess. You couldn’t even face the eyes on you and the look of unamusement from Okonogi.

The way back to your division’s building was full of teasing remarks while Hoshina felt no shame at all in the confines of his office.

—

Narumi Gen is the Commander of the First Division. The strongest soldier with the eyes of the oldest numbered Kaiju. Narumi Gen is also the bane of your existence.

“I didn’t come all this way for you to shit on me!”

"Well, if you didn’t play so shit, maybe I wouldn’t!”

You’re both cooped up in your apartment away from the outside world, and with him barging in on your day off, you had no choice but to let him in at his persistence. That and with the threat of losing your BS5 to him after his own miraculously broke.

You roll your eyes when he sticks his tongue out at you but quickly return them to the game at hand. It was 2-1, best out of five with you in the lead for keeping the console you so definitely paid for, but your car was miles behind it and it was already the last lap. Gen was radiating smugness from beside you and you couldn’t even reprimand him for it when he passed the finish line with ease, not even giving you time to throw that last blue shell for the hell of it.

“Why’d you play so shit?” If you weren’t such close friends.

“Shut up.” You groan and stand up to refill your glass before the final round.

“Get mine, too.”

“No.” He knows you don’t mean it when you’ve already grabbed his cup so he’s content with pulling out his phone and posting a story about his victory. Stepping into the kitchen, you pull open the fridge door for the juice. As you’re pouring both cups, there’s a knock on your front door.

You place everything back and leave the cups on the counter as you go to answer it and your mood shifts when you see him.

Hoshina’s holding up bags of snacks with a wide smile that you can’t help but kiss him. He reciprocates and you would’ve spent more time there if not for the annoyance in your background.

“Come on, I gotta be back before 10 or Hasegawa’s gonna be on my ass!”

“Good!” Hoshina chuckles and closes the door behind him, following you back into the living room as you bring the drinks. And right at the site of him, Gen shoots up from the floor and points at Hoshina.

“Hey, what is this asshole doing here?”

“Nice to see you, too!”

Gen’s eye twitches and he gulps down the entirety of his juice. You’re in the background looking through the bags Hoshina brought with the knowledge of their one-sided rivalry. See, before you even got together with Hoshina, Gen would talk your ear off about how much he hated the guy and you prepared yourself for the worst for if you ever had to meet him.

Well, that backfired for your friend.

They continue to bicker until you wave around your controller, catching both of their attentions, “Wrap up your cat fight so I can win.” Gen gives a final scowl and sits on the couch for the finale. Hoshina, in a mindful attempt to give the other more space, sits on the floor between your legs, his back leaning on the couch with his cheek resting on your thigh.

The race starts and it’s a map you’re not so good with. That’s already a disadvantage on top of it being one of Gen’s favorites. The race goes on and the closest you can get is 2nd with Gen reining in at 1st for the last few laps. You click your tongue and hope that one of the blocks would give you some sort of miracle item.

Hoshina watches as you get so close to becoming first and immediately loses it once you turn a corner, feeling the frustration from behind him. The first thought that comes to mind might have not seemed beneficial in the moment, but it would kill two birds with one stone. Or, well, three.

He turns his head just a little bit and bites your leg. You make a noise and distract your friend beside you who can see what’s happening in his peripherals.

“What the hell? Don’t do that when I’m right here!” That’s just enough time for Gen to miss his last drift and allow you to pass him right as the finish line comes into view. Gen sees this and curses under his breath, throwing his held item he manages to get in the middle of it all (a blue shell, figures) to stop you in your tracks.

Though, he didn’t expect the boombox you’ve been saving.

Suffice to say Hoshina’s plan did the three things he accounted for: getting you out of that frustration, annoying Gen, and satisfying himself.

You were just happy you got to keep your BS5 for that week and Gen wished his eyes could’ve told him what was going to happen.

—

With the job comes a busy schedule, but at least the nights were for you two alone.

It’s humid in the bedroom but neither of you cared amidst the hushed gasps shared. Despite being far from the station it seemed that these quiet habits were hard to break thanks to a certain someone.

Your eyes are glazed over and Hoshina places a hand on your face to keep your attention on him. “Tired out?” You hum into his palm but shake your head. You can feel him shift inside you, slowing his movements to make sure you were there.

“Just a ‘lil more, please?”Hoshina crumbles under your words and what kind of lover would he be if he didn’t indulge you? He kisses you softly before running his hands down to your hips, lifting them up slightly and you sigh at the adjustment. “Soshiro!”

“I got you, darlin’, relax f’me.” It's hard when his words fire you up more than you’d like, but for him to continue you had to oblige. Soft caresses on your skin and whispers of sweet nothings in your ear brings you so, so close.

But it’s not enough.

His pace is slower this round, him being mindful of how many times you’d come already but he’s also holding himself back and you can see. Through the tears in your eyes you look up and see the sweat on his face, his neck, and dripping down his chest. He’s straining, veins prominent in his neck and arms are telling.

Lifting your arms up you wrap them around his neck, pulling him down and burying your face into his shoulder.

“Faster, please. Soshi—“ You can’t even get his name out as he’s already fulfilling your wishes. Your moans are right in his ear, driving him to reach both of your climaxes as soon as possible. It’s been hours since you first hit the bed and the feeling never gets old. Especially when he finds that spot in you that has you seeing white, and especially when he releases his warmth soon after yours.

The feeling’s too much, your nails scratching down his back and your body shaking from the last of the night. It’s right there in front of you and before you know it, you’ve latched your teeth onto his shoulder. A hybrid of a whine and moan escapes him with surprise as he tries to ride out the aftermath.

“O-Oh, shit.” He chuckles and his hips stutter, “That’s dirty, sweetheart. Not fair for ya to be doin’ that.” He , you release him and lay back onto the mattress and with the energy you have left, you look at him again. You wish you could remember the view forever.

Hoshina’s covered in the sheen of sweat, either just his or both of yours, and there’s a sly smile on his face. His crimson eyes are right on you with the most mischievous yet adoring look in them—the color of which matches the liquid seeping from the mark you just left.

“Wait, baby, you’re bleeding—“ You feel weak and disoriented but still have half the mind to try and reach to the bedside table for a tissue, but he catches you by the wrist.

Hoshina presses a kiss to the inside of your palm and settles you back onto the sheets, “Don’t worry about it, I can tell ya like lookin’ so enjoy it a lil more.” He lets go of your arm and leans down to place a light kisses to your neck, suckling on the soft skin he can reach. You were already teetering on the edge of sleep and his ministrations were aiding in that.

Your arms come up to pull him down to you and he doesn’t resist. Not like he would’ve anyway.

“Soshiro?”

“Mm?”

“I love you.” Your voice is quiet and you think he doesn’t hear it. But Hoshina starts to smile against your skin and bring you impossibly closer to him. Lifting himself up a bit, he catches your half-lidded gaze.

You always say this after every night you spend together and he never gets tired of it. You couldn’t deny it even if you wanted to, but he cherished you just as much.

“I love ya, too.”

#kaiju no. 8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 fluff #kaiju no. 8 smut #kn8 x reader #kn8 fluff #kn8 smut #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina x reader #soshiro hoshina #fics

[nattysstargirl]

The Beast of my Dreams

Chapter 2.

Word count:2460

TW: not much this chapter, some harassment, Fluff towards the end

A/N: Next chapter it gets a little...spicy ☺️

~~~

Y/N texts Peter about her dream, since he's the only one she's told. Of course, she doesn't give him all the details of that last dream... 

Y/N: I think I was lucid dreaming or something. 

Pete🧝🏻: No shit? That's pretty cool. What'd you do? 

Y/N: Walked around. Stuck my hand in the hole, but nothing really happened. It smelled my hand like a dog, and I pet it. Head's huge lmao 

Pete🧝🏻: wow, that's crazy 

Y/N sighs. She knows she's being annoying. But she doesn't know who else to talk to about it. 

Pete🧝🏻: you know, I have a friend who does tarot reading

and dream interpretation, stuff like that. want their number? He sends the number without waiting for a response, and Y/N texts it immediately. 

Y/N: Hey! Name's Y/N. My friend Peter said you're the person to talk to about weird dreams? I'd love to grab a cup of coffee. 

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Sure, meet at May's in five. 

"Oh, shit," Y/N mutters. She hurries out of her duvet cocoon and yanks on a pair of jeans and a red flannel shirt. She throws a hoodie over it, because it's been getting chillier every night, then she leaves the door unlocked because Peggy still hasn't returned from her shower. There's a long mirror in the hall before the elevator, so Y/N checks herself while she waits for it to reach her floor. 

Dark, straight hair looking as flat as usual. She wipes sleep from her hooded eyes and blinks. There's definitely an amount of what Peter would call "thin privilege" that makes her look presentable. Sloppy, baggy clothes are socially acceptable if you're under a hundred and thirty-or-so pounds, which she is. Plus, she's got her mother's smooth, olive skin tone. And she's 5'7", so the way she dresses just looks artsy and relaxed instead of like she just rolled out of bed, which she nearly always has. 

Maybe Peggy's right. A little more effort could go a long way. The elevator dings, and she hurries inside, then across campus to May's. May's is the campus coffee shop, nestled between the library and student union building. The exterior is ugly gray siding, and it'd be easy to mistake it for a storage building if not for the constant drip of students rushing through the doors past other students pushing outside with their hands wrapped around warm to-go mugs of fresh coffee and pastries. 

Y/N holds the door open for a professor, then ducks into the warmth of the coffee shop. She breathes deep, enjoying the rich smell of roasting coffee beans. She hates the taste. The shop has a line at the register, seven or eight students deep, and the twelve tables lining the walls are all occupied. After a quick glance around, Y/N realizes she has no idea what this person looks like. She doesn't even know their name. That quickly becomes a nonissue as she locks eyes with a person sitting at a two-chair table in the corner on their own. They're watching her with a significant look on their face. And all the information Y/N has on this person—that they interpret dreams, read tarot, and are friends with Peter—reflects in their appearance. Long dark hair with streaks of blue hair mixed in, lines of piercings, a septum ring, a tattoo that looks like a bird reaching up their neck from the collar of a graphic band t-shirt.

 Y/N offers a small wave and walks over. "Hi," she says. "Are you...Pete's friend?" The person nods once. 

"And you're Y/N." 

"Yes!" She smiles emphatically, despite the awkward blanket over the exchange. She points a finger toward the empty chair as if to ask permission, then slips into it. 

"My name is MJ," they say. 

"Nice to meet you, MJ." 

MJ pushes a steaming mug toward Y/N, holding their own in the other hand. "Oh, I don't drink coffee," Y/N says before politely lying occurs to her. 

"I know," MJ says. "It's hot chocolate." She loves hot chocolate. 

"Oh, thank you! How'd you know?" MJ just watches her. 

Y/N shifts in her chair and sips her hot chocolate, hoping MJ will speak before she has to. MJ does not. "So!" she says brightly. "What's your major?" 

"Aren't you here for dream interpretation?" MJ doesn't smile. 

She coughs lightly on a gulp of hot chocolate. "I am, yes, but—okay, right to it!" Y/N summarizes the dreams, leaving out the details of the last one. "In my last dream, I became more lucid. I was able to stand up and move around." 

"You need to get laid," MJ says simply. 

Y/N pauses, then giggles because she doesn't know how else to respond. MJ isn't wrong, but being horny has never given her incredibly realistic recurring dreams about sexy creatures before. 

"Would you like me to get into the details of that interpretation?" MJ's voice remains monotone. "I'd be happy to do a reading, too." They pull a deck of tarot cards from their jacket pocket and leave it on the table. 

"That's okay," Y/N says. "I just... Are you sure?" 

"One hundred percent. From the yonic tree—" 

Y/N snorts. "Yonic?" 

"Yes. I assume you have that preference?" 

"Maybe," Y/N says. She's never sworn off of men or penises, but they just have never presented themselves in a way that Y/N found difficult to resist. 

"And forests hold an undeniably strong amount of feminine energy," MJ continues. "The monster inside—" 

"I didn't say it was a monster." 

"Oh, what do you call it?" 

"A creature?" she offers. "I don't know. I don't feel threatened by it, exactly. It's more exciting than scary, knowing that it might..." 

"Kill you," MJ finishes. 

Y/N shrugs a shoulder. 

MJ sits back in their chair and folds their hands on the table. "That's my read on it. Take it or leave it, but I've never been wrong." 

Y/N nods slowly. "I appreciate your insight, definitely. I'll think about that." 

"There's more..." MJ says. 

"Yes?" 

"I believe there is a danger in your dreams. If you don't see to it, and soon, it could mean destruction." 

"See to it? Are you saying if I don't get laid, I'll be, what? Cursed?" Y/N's chuckling, but MJ is not. MJ doesn't respond. 

Y/N's eyes narrow. "How'd you know I don't drink coffee?" She's not even sure Peter knows that. She keeps it to herself because people are usually really annoying about it. 

"I know enough," MJ says. Then they stand abruptly, sweeping their deck of cards from the table and a backpack from the chair. "Good luck, Y/N." 

Y/N stares after them as they go. "What the fuck was that?" she mutters. But she pulls her phone out and downloads every dating app she can find. 

— 

Y/N takes her time finishing her hot chocolate, enjoying the warmth of May's before she has to hike back across campus. She matches with the max amount of women the "good" apps allows, then she wrinkles her nose and switches to the annoying app to right swipe until her wrist hurts. She doesn't even glance at profiles. Her own profile is a single mirror selfie in her underwear with her face cropped out, and her bio reads: "polite, tested, looking for hookups." She also set her location to the smallest distance. The sooner she gets this curse and recurring dream taken care of, the sooner she can focus her energy on not flunking the semester. Her mom pays her tuition, under the condition that Y/N keeps a GPA over 3.0 and doesn't reach out too often. 

"Closing soon, honey," a barista calls to her from behind the counter. He's wiping down the espresso machine. Y/N realizes she's the only customer left. 

"Sorry," she says. "I'm leaving." 

"Be safe out there. Do you need me to walk you home? I'll be done here in fifteen," he says. 

"Thanks, but I'm good." She smiles, crossing to leave her empty mug with him. The sun set an hour ago, and she's cold to her bones as soon as she steps outside. She thinks of the buddy system rule, but a part of her is deeply confident she could outrun a wild animal if it came down to it. She shivers. The campus is virtually empty with the animal threat and chilly air, and she watches the stars instead of her feet. A loud, barking laugh from her left makes her jump. Four frat boys stumble out of a dorm building to get away from a stern-faced RA with his arms crossed over a broad chest. 

"Get home before I report you." The RA's growl is low but loud enough for Y/N to hear clearly across the quad. He slams the door, and the gaggle of boys scan their surroundings like they're looking for their next victim. 

Y/N pulls her hoodie strings tighter around her face and walks faster, but she's not out of sight before they see her. She becomes hyper-aware that she's wearing jeans a size too small, and her hoodie is short. 

"Hey, friend!" a boy calls. The three others' heads snap toward her, and they move forward in unison. Great. She keeps her head down and walks as fast as she can without actually sprinting away from them. 

Just pretend you can't hear them. 

"Hey, wait up!" 

"Where ya hurrying off to?" 

"We just want to talk!" 

Y/N's heart speeds up, too. She's sure they can hear her heavy breathing. Her eyes scan for somewhere she can duck into and hide, or someone to help. She pulls out her phone and calls Peggy, but there's no answer. 

"Hey, Peggy!" she says loudly to her voicemail inbox. "I'll be home in two minutes! Yep... Tell the boys that we can—" She loses the sentence as one of the frats catch up with her and grabs her elbow. Her phone skitters across the pavement. 

"I'll scream," she threatens. The boy laughs. He's white with blond hair and an insufferable smirk. 

"Why? We just wanted to talk. You look so cold." The other three have reached them and form a semi-circle in front of her. 

"She does look cold," one says, stepping behind her and pulling her into a backwards hug. Another joins the embrace, wrapping his arms around them both. 

"My friend is waiting for me." Y/N's voice is shaking as she tilts her chin up to breathe over their tightly gripped arms. 

This campus has a particularly significant reputation around their fraternities. And this isn't her first run-in. She went to a lot of parties freshman year that she was way too young and stupid to be at. She doesn't recognize their faces, but she knows the letters on the twin jackets two of them wear. Her hands are shaking from more than the cold now, but she can't push the boys off, so she tries to stay calm and wait them out. They'll get bored. One keeps his arms around her waist and rests a chin on her shoulder. His pelvis is pressed firmly against her back. She flutters her eyes closed and breathes deeply through her nose. 

"Where ya heading?" the blonde leader asks. He moves closer to her, wrapping a strand of her hair around his finger. 

"We're gonna go find somewhere to chill. You should come." 

"Aww," a voice says in the dark behind her. "You have to kidnap girls because no one wants to be around you of their own volition?" 

The boys turn to see who spoke, and the weird girl from stats class is walking toward them. She's not as tall as the shortest guy, but she walks like she's the biggest one there. She jerks her head to toss her hair from her face, tilting her chin up at them like a challenge. Her hands are tucked into her red leather bomber jacket, but her eyes carry a distinct and clear threat. The boy who was holding Y/N drops his arms to puff his chest at the girl like a cartoon bully. Y/N would laugh at him if she weren't scared silent. 

"You volunteering?" Blonde Boy sneers. She stops a few steps away from them, looking each boy up and down before she finally speaks. 

"Why don't y'all scurry back to your rat nest and sleep off all those Capri-Sun-Everclear cocktails?" One boy has kept the biggest distance from Y/N and seems the most in charge of his faculties puts a hand on Blonde Boys shoulder. 

"Come on, guys. Not worth it." 

The drunkest one stumbles toward her with an extended finger. "You've got a little attitude, huh?" 

She doesn't take her hands from her jacket pockets as he gets close enough for her to slam her knee into his crotch. He groans, but it's closer to a squeak, which makes her rat comment funnier. Y/N giggles at that, either from the situation or from her own nervousness. 

"That's assault!" Blonde Boy snaps. "We'll get you kicked out, bitch!" She crosses to him in two strides to stand nose-to-nose with him and says nothing. 

The sober one roughly grabs the other two by their shoulders. "Come on, guys. We gotta stay in the clear for a while. You heard dean Fury." Reluctantly, they follow him. The one the girl kicked spits on the ground and sniffs loudly as he leaves. The girl watches until they turn a corner and disappear out of sight. 

"Assholes," she mutters. Then she turns to Y/N. "You okay?" Her voice is quieter now. It's a very sweet tone despite the low gravel. Y/N thought she was putting on a voice to scare the boys, but apparently that's just how she speaks. 

"I'm fine," Y/N says quickly. She crosses her arms to hide her trembling hands. "They're just...being jerks. It's fine." The girl evaluates her. 

"I'm Natasha." 

"Y/N." 

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. Can I walk you home?"

Y/N nods. "If you're not busy, that would be nice."

Natasha clears her throat and puts a hesitant hand on Y/N's shoulder. "You sure you're okay?"

Y/N feels her chin quiver as the adrenaline works its way out of her body. She steps into Natasha and drops her face onto her shoulder. Natasha's arms are quick to wrap her in a hug. 

"It's okay," she mutters into her hair. "They're gone. Come on, where's your dorm?"

#g!p natasha #lesbian #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #were hyena!natasha romanoff x reader #Natasha romanoff x reader angst #butch!natasha romanoff

[neathyingenue]

HERE IT IS

"An episode of The Muppet Show but the guest star is Sinning Jenny"

Rating: Teen

Categories: M/M, Multi, Other

Ships: Kermit the Frog/Miss Piggy/Sinning Jenny, Statler/Waldorf, Statler/Waldorf/Original Fallen London Character

No archive warnings apply

Words: 2460

Additional Tags: Crack, musical episode, Bad Puns, Muppet/Human kissing, Muppet/human orgy (implied), I'm so sorry I promise it's not actually that horny, Screenplay/Script Format

Read on Ao3 (formatting doesn't really work here, sorry)

Thanks to @neathbowprideflag for the guest star idea and to @thedeafprophet and @house-of-mirrors for allowing me to rope your OCs into this monstrosity ;___;

#my writing #the muppets #fallen london #crack fic #jamie awnings #orsinio elderwood

[sarcastic--metaphor]

What does simon think of bonnibel?

I could answer that plainly, but I thought I'd attach an excerpt from my Vampire!Simon AU that deals with exactly this! It's pretty divorced from the overarching narrative so I guess it could be considered a one shot set within my AU or a prequel maybe.

Forgive me for any typos or bad pacing, I started writing at 3 am. This is very much also a rough draft that I'd like to clean up before posting to Ao3, but this is really exciting for me to share :)

(There’s also one small reference to the special vampire power I chose for Simon)

Word count: 2460

+++

The Star heard Temperance coming, she could tell by the click of his heels against the floor. She never understood why he refused to use his power of levitation, but she loved him all the same for his funny habits. 

As it was, she was rather bored. Dad was commanding the minions from his throne, commanding them to push their territory outward to search for more food. 

“Hey, Temperance,” The Star said, drifting away from her dad to follow after Temperance. He was wearing his long-tailed coat today, as well as his polished leather boots. 

He smiled at her and tucked a lock of white hair behind his ear. The Star used to wear her hair long as well, but she’d taken to keeping it short in recent decades. But her Temperance was always a bit old fashioned, keeping the same long hair all these centuries. His neat braid reached the end of his coat tails, brushing against the back of his knees. 

She took his braid and swept it over his shoulder. She asked, “Are you going somewhere?”

“Just out for a walk,” he said. 

The Star’s eyes brightened. “Do you want me to come with you?”

The hive was fine and all, but she was itching to stretch her legs. Metaphorically speaking, that was. She preferred floating, but it would be nice to spend some time away from Dad and the minions. 

“Ah,” Temperance said, holding up his hands, “No, you don’t have to come with me, that’s alright.”

Her face fell. Then she popped her lips. 

“Oh, is this one of your thinking walks?”

Temperance nodded. “Yes, exactly! You wouldn’t want to hear an old man talking to himself, trust me.”

The Star laughed and let go of his braid. “I would if it was you.”

Temperance liked his long walks, he claimed he used the time to mulling over questions of philosophy or history. Or to talk himself through the next steps in taking care of his garden. 

She’d still like going with him, but knew Temperance had a fondness for his alone time. 

“If you’re leaving the hive,” another voice said, “Then you must take a guard.”

They both turned toward the king. He regarded them both with those bright eyes. 

Temperance made a short sigh under his breath. “I won’t be gone long.”

“I don’t care,” Dad said. “Take some drones or take The Star. Either way, I don’t want you out there alone.”

For a second, she really did think Temperance would choose her. She couldn’t remember the last time they had a few hours away from everything else. And The Star knew he missed her company, too.

“I’ll take the minions,” Temperance said, voice calm and clipped. 

Dad gestured to the three nearest vampires and they approached Temperance, stopping at a respectful difference. 

Temperance touched The Star’s arm and smiled. “I’ll see you later. Go help your father with his plans.”

She rolled her eyes and blew her bangs out of her face. “Alright, alright.”

He smiled one last time, then he was gone. 

+++

Simon tried to resist the instinct to levitate as much as possible. He had to remind himself that with his eternal life, wandering the land on his own two feet was no longer a taxing, unending endeavor. It wasn’t like those years after the apocalypse began. 

Now, he had somewhat of the opposite problem. As royalty, he was expected to sever his ties to human ways. 

And that was just something he could never do. 

As he left the hive behind him, Simon tried to ignore the three minions drifting behind him. They kept him within sight but were also interested in picking through the desolate streets for anything to eat. Not that there tended to be much life this close to home. 

Simon walked for an hour before some unknown force compelled him to stop. He lifted his nose and smelled the air. 

There was a faint trace of sharp, rich blood. Human. 

His brows furrowed as his stomach sank. What on earth was a human doing this close to the hive? An injured human?

They must have been driven here by some of the vampire drones. On instinct, Simon tried to determine where the source was coming from. He turned around and almost let out a scream when he saw a flash of human eyes before they vanished behind the broken remains of an old wall. 

So close. 

And if he could smell the poor soul, so would the drones. Simon began hurrying along, keeping his composure. Knowing the others would happily stop to pick apart easy prey, Simon cleared his throat. 

“Stay close to me,” he said. 

He didn’t look back, but could hear the glide of his vampire guards as they reluctantly gave up looking for food. 

Simon walked for about another hour, pulling out the gilded pocket watch from within his coat more and more often the farther he went. He hoped he’d be on time. 

Ahead, at a crossroads between two streets, was a faded metal sign and a bench. A bus stop.

Simon sat down and massaged his ankle, feigning some fatigue. After a moment, he leaned against the bench and lifted his gaze to the clouded skies. 

“Come here,” he said to the clouds. 

But it was the drones that obeyed. The lesser vampires within the hive were bound to the court like slaves or draft animals. It would’ve troubled Simon terribly, if not for the way these vampires so happily abandoned their human ways in exchange for supposedly eternal life.

Two drones hovered in the air above him and another crouched at his feet. 

Unperturbed, Simon asked, “Look at the sky and tell me what you see.”

And because he was Temperance, the king’s advisor, the minions obeyed. 

“I see…” one of them began, “...I see clouds.”

“Look harder,” Simon said. “Really take a moment.”

And as they looked, Simon checked his pocket watch once more. 

Without warning, three gunshots rang out. Three sharp, shrill cries followed. 

Then the sounds of three stakes hitting the ground. 

Simon put his watch away. He breathed a short sigh of relief. They were both right on time. 

He listened for the sound of heavy footsteps. Simon picked up the stake that had killed the vampire at his feet and turned it over in his hands; it wasn’t too badly blunted. 

A figure dressed in pink came up from behind him, falling into the space alongside him. Simon held out the stake and she took it. 

“Thanks,” Bonnie said. She slid the stake into a slot in the bandolier over her chest. She looked exhausted, skin covered in scratches and dirt. 

“You know,” Simon said, “If it’s so hard for you to get this close to the hive on your own, I could always meet you farther out.”

Realistically, he could probably walk for days without suspicion being raised. To his kind, weeks could pass like hours and hours were nothing more than moments. 

Say nothing of the discarded minions. The hive had so many drones that Simon could slip back inside and not have anyone notice he returned alone. 

Bonnie groaned and said, “Save it, Petrikov. We both know it’s better for you to keep close. I can’t have the King going ballistic at the idea of you missing.”

Or The Star, but she didn’t need to say that part. 

He sighed, knowing she was right. But Bonnie was tough, he knew. She got herself here without that tank of hers, knowing it was too big and would draw too much attention. And she did it every year. 

“Here,” he said, reaching into his inner coat pocket. He pulled out a thick wad of paper folded many times over. Bonnie’s one eye watched his every minute movement as a hawk would. Or more accurately, a buzzard aching for a carcass.

She snatched the paper from him and unfurled it, revealing the most up-to-date map of the hive that Simon could design with his limited cartography skills. It was terribly difficult to accurately convey a three-dimensional space filled with irregular chambers and steep, winding halls. 

The hive was almost a living thing. Its corridors were more akin to a labyrinth that shifted and evolved from year to year. Not just to keep intruders out, but to keep their captured prey inside. 

Simon knew that in just a short while, he’d have to start making Bonnie a new map should she ever need it. 

For a good, long while, neither of them spoke as Bonnie poured over the newest alterations to the hive. 

“That old atrium is gone,” she said softly, “You broke it up into a bunch of smaller rooms… and these vestibules along the westward cliffs, they used to be sealed off.”

“Excellent eye as always,” he said. 

“Thanks, Petrikov,” Bonnie said. She folded the map back up and tucked it into her pants pocket.

Simon felt his stomach clench. 

Bonnie had tried and failed over countless years to destroy the hive. She tried an old cache of human-made missiles launched from afar, raising an army of human survivors, biological warfare by pumping live animals with disease vectors… 

Only once did she ever use one of the maps Simon made, to infiltrate the hive alone on what was essentially a suicide mission. She hadn’t told him, but she paid a heavy enough price. 

He stared at her missing eye and the ring of scar tissue that her eyepatch hid. 

“Do you think this will be it?” Simon asked softly. “What’s your plan?”

Bonnie froze. She looked away from him and he realized it was because she was ashamed. 

“You ran out of ideas,” he said. 

“I did not!” 

Bonnie rose to her feet, swayed, then stood tall over Simon. He resisted the urge to ask her to sit back down. When she got into these fits, it was best to let her work through them

So he remained silent as she pointed at him and said, “I’ve tried armies, I’ve tried it solo. Right now, I’m lying low and trying to put together a small, elite team.”

Again, there was that question of and then what?

But Simon only removed a handkerchief from his pocket and polished his glasses. 

Bonnie sometimes went years without directly attacking the hive, The Star, or the King. He knew from scouting reports made by the drones that she devoted most of her time to diminishing the population of lesser vampires. 

She was too prideful, too upset, to admit that she was only really in a position to continue doing that kind of more subtle work. 

By the time Bonnie cooled off, after a good deal of pacing and muttering, and was willing to sit back down, Simon just so happened to be done polishing his glasses. He blinked behind the lenses and, perhaps against his better judgment, gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 

Bonnie tensed. She had a stake out faster than Simon could see and only stopped herself an inch away from skewering his wrist. 

“Sorry,” she said. She put the stake away. 

Simon smiled at her, “It’s alright. You wouldn’t have hurt me either way.”

She scoffed, the corner of her mouth peeling back to show her teeth. “I would’ve ripped your fancy coat.”

True. Very true. 

“Then I would have told my tailor that I was being my clumsy self and tripped.”

To his surprise, Bonnie chuckled softly. She leaned her head against the bench and shut her eye for a moment. 

“What about you?” she asked. 

“What about me?”

Without looking at Simon, she said, “How’s your junk been going?”

Simon felt a twinge of embarrassment. Perhaps this was how Bonnie felt. He ran his hands over his braid, one after another, and cleared his throat. 

“Well… I’ve been successful in keeping more vampires sequestered to the hive by convincing the King we ought to improve fortifications.”

Bonnie smirked, more teasing than mean. “You trying to make my job harder?”

Simon felt his face flush. “Of course not! But more importantly, I think I’ve been making some more progress with The- with Marceline.”

Bonnie’s eye snapped open. She sat up straight and stared at him. 

Simon said, “She’s been eating more of the color red in private with me, I think she’s starting to learn it’s okay to not have blood all the time,” he debated with himself for a moment, then added, “And… well, she almost came with me today.”

At that, Bonnie said nothing. Only clenched her teeth and shot to her feet once more, fists shaking at her sides.

“Bonnie! Please-”

“Did she know you were coming to meet me?” 

Her voice was rough and gravelly. It almost made Simon wince. “No, but-”

Bonnie swore in German. 

He stood up as well but didn’t try to touch her again. He said, “Please, I’m sorry for what she did to you, but I know there’s still good in her! And I wouldn’t have let her hurt you. O-or let you hurt her. Or–”

“Simon,” Bonnie said, in a way that showed just how tired she was. Her voice was nothing more than a low, sad rasp, “I know you love her…”

Though she was facing away from Simon, he knew she was touching her eye. 

Bonnie never would’ve gotten out of the hive the last time if he hadn’t secretly helped her. He practically carried her through the subterranean tunnels when she was dizzy and weak from blood loss. 

She said softly, almost gently, “I know you love her… but she’s never held back against me. So I can’t afford to hold back against her. I’m sorry.”

Bonnie began to walk away, their conversion having come to its end. But Simon had to say something more, if not to defend Marceline than to even attempt to make amends. 

But he found nothing. No words of great inspiration. 

Instead, he simply said, “Stay safe out there, Bonnie. And be careful.”

To his immense surprise, Bonnie paused. Without looking all the way back at him, she said, “Thanks, Petrikov. See you later.”

Later being subject to debate. If they missed their annual illicit meet up next year, it’d take even longer before he’d be able to see her again. To someone Simon’s age, that shouldn’t feel like a long time. 

But just as he walked the earth, he tried so very hard to feel the passage of time the way humans did. To count the minutes and feel like they mattered. 

As he watched her go, Simon felt two ways. 

He could’ve stopped Bonnie. 

He could’ve gone with her. 

But he only turned around and kept his eyes on the distant hive. 

#simon petrikov #fionna and cake #vampire au #the vampire king #marceline the star #bonnibel bubblegum #marceline and bonnibel

[mendes-bae]

A fair exchange – part six

series masterlist ; part five ; part seven

Part six summary: Velarys and Aemond meet again.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x (F) Targaryen!reader

Warning: NSFW 🔞 incest, angst, kissing, smut, PiV sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, CHARACTER DEATH.

Author's note: ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE! this is my first time writing a fic in English, so beforehand, i'm sorry 👀

All the rights belong to the showrunners of HOTD and George R.R Martin, author of Fire and blood & Song of ice and fire series‼️

Word count: 2460

Velarys accepted Lord Lyon's advice and reached for the room Aemond was in.

The princess took courage and opened the room door. When she entered, her husband was on the balcony, looking the most beautiful garden she had ever seen. The white linen curtains contrasted with his black leather outfit.

Aemond heard footsteps behind him and turned around.

Velarys saw him after so many days and felt her body relax. She could run to him and hug his body so tightly that it could leave him without air.

"I knew you would come sooner or later to visit your dear friend" he said with his hoarse voice.

Aemond set the golden goblet of wine on a small nearby table and crossed his arms over his chest.

Velarys walked to the table in the center of the room and poured herself a glass of water just to avoid Aemond's gaze and keep her hands busy since they were shaking.

"What are you doing here?" She asked bringing the small goblet to her lips.

"I guess the same as you, getting allies for my king"

She clicked her tongue after the liquid went down her throat.

"I see you haven't changed your mind" She put the glass back on the mahogany table.

"Aren't you glad to see me?" Her husband ignored what Velarys just said.

"I thought you wouldn't be so happy to see me"

"I will always want to see you, sweet wife" He approached the princess, causing her to step back and collide with the wooden table. "Even though you have abandoned me"

"I had no choice. You made me choose between you and my sister"

"Did you ever consider that perhaps Rhaenyra is not a good candidate for the Iron Throne?"

"She..."

"And maybe Aegon isn't either"

Velarys looked at him strangely, since each one had already made it clear where their loyalties lay.

"Have you ever thought that maybe second children are a better option?" Aemond moved even closer to his wife, so close that his nose was on her cheek.

"Not only do you want to take the power away from our sister, now you want it for yourself?"

"Have you ever imagined me on the Iron Throne?... because I have. I imagined you sitting on it, in front of you all the lords of Westereos swearing allegiance to you"

His nose traveled down her throat, his lips leaving kisses on her skin.

"You would look so sexy with a crown on your head... my queen"

Velarys had never wanted power for herself, in fact everything she did in the small council was to strengthen her sister's claim, but suddenly having Aemond talking to her like that between her legs made a fire settle in her belly.

The princess groaned at his words.

"Beg me to fuck you, my queen." Aemond said against her ear, Velarys moaned louder.

"Please... I need you like i never did before, Aemond"

The prince kept kissing her soft skin, his wet lips touching the edge of her breasts.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard that all the fucking Tyrells will hear how good I make you feel"

With nothing else to say, Aemond lifted her dress up to her hips. His hands cupped her thighs and made her legs wrap around his waist.

The prince's hand clamped down sharply on Velarys's jaw, causing her to look at him. Aemond loved Velarys's expressions.

"You have to thank your queen for sending you here, you have no idea how much I wanted to see you"

Velarys closed her eyes at his words.

"I missed you so much" The princess admitted.

Aemond brought his lips close to her.

"Me too"

The princess couldn't resist and leaned down to kiss him. It was a kiss like no other they had shared, it was desperate and wild.

Suddenly, Aemond let go of her wife and took her by the shoulders before turning her around. The skin of her hips crashed against the table, her ass pointed at her husband's manhood.

Aemond saw her exposed pale skin and felt a sudden desire: following his instincts, he reached down and bit her ass cheeks.

Velarys let out a scream of surprise and lust, her husband laughed at her reaction.

"Aemond" the princess moaned with desire.

Her husband quickly dropped his black leather pants to his ankles and lustfully guided his cock to her wet entrance.

He entred to her cunt with one thrust and both of them gasped at the sensation.

"I missed this pussy"

Velarys pinched his ass and with her fingers pulled him closer to her, feeling his cock deeper into her.

"Move"

"Whatever my queen asks for"

Aemond didn't stop for playing games, he began to move quickly against his wife's butt.

The sound of their skins bumping against each other and their muffled moans were heard throughout the room and surely outside of it, but they didn't care that someone could hear them.

The prince released Velarys's breasts, which were bouncing from their sudden movements, he took them in his hands and massaged them how he knew his wife loves.

Velarys moaned and guided her left hand to her clit and caressed it desperately.

"Cum for me, my queen"

Only Gods knew how it turned on her hearing him call her that.

After a few thrusts later, wet kisses and caresses, both reached their climax.

Aemond moaned against the white-haired woman's neck as she dropped her head against his shoulder.

Neither of them wanted to move, afraid that this intimate moment would slip through their fingers like water.

"I hate this" Velarys admitted turning her head, looking at her husband out of the corner of her eye.

"Me too" Aemond confessed.

They stayed like that, holding each other for several minutes until Aemond walked a few steps away and got dressed. Velarys did the same.

"Otto sent me here, but clearly I didn't get anything from the Tyrells, they hate my grandfather" said her husband adjusting his wrinkled shirt.

"It's not hard to do so" Aemond didn't reply, his wife was right after all.

"I will depart for Storm's End, immediately"

Velarys couldn't help but think of Luke.

"Why are you telling me all this? We are supposed to be on the enemy side"

"You will never be my enemy, Velarys" said her husband caressing her cheek. "You did what you thought was right, I can't blame you"

Velarys pressed herself against her husband's palm.

"Is it too late to regretted it?" The princess asked with tears in her eyes.

"I think so"

Lovers from opposing sides kissed for the last time before returning to their monarchs.

￮ ੭ 𓈒 ˙ 🐉🐉🐉 ˳ ⊹ ˚ 𝅄

Velarys returned from Dorne and felt a tense atmosphere. She hoped to lighten it with the good news she brought for her sister: the Tyrells had kept their word and would serve Rhaenyra as their rightful queen, gathering as many soldiers as they could from their vassal houses and fighting the Hightowers and their allies. On the other hand, Princess Aliandra had pledged some of her Dornish army and sworn knights to the cause on the sole condition that Dorne would remain independent and maintain its rule in the south as it had for the past 130 years.

The princess freed her hands from the leather gloves and entered the council room. There was no one there but Rhaenyra and a few members of the Black council. Her sister turned to meet the arrival of her first envoy but before she could say anything, Daemon hurried into the room and Velarys immediately knew something was wrong.

"What's going on?" asked the Queen of Westeros.

Daemon hesitated for a moment but then said carefully:

"Aemond murdered Lucerys on his way back from Storm's End" her sister's husband waited a moment to continue "The fishermen found Arrax's remains on the shore"

Velarys knew her uncle was not lying, Aemond himself had told her that he would visit Lord Baratheon in search of allies for the Greens. The princess also knew of the grudge that her husband had towards her nephews, of the rivalry that had been going on for years between the princes and the desire for revenge that Aemond felt especially towards Luke.

However, Velarys never thought or imagined that Aemond, her Aemond, hers, would be capable of killing a child.

The princess felt a stabbing pain in her belly as she heard Rhaenyra's piercing screams and pleas for her little boy.

Velarys wanted to get closer to her sister but a sharper pain settled in her low belly. Alerted, the princess lifted her dress quickcly, unashamed by the lords gazes who saw her.

She touched her thighs and discovered that her hand was full of blood. In a panic she looked at Rhaenyra across the room and her gaze told her what she already sensed.

Suddenly, everything turned black.

￮ ੭ 𓈒 ˙ 🐉🐉🐉 ˳ ⊹ ˚ 𝅄

Velarys woke up with a gash in her lower belly, dizzy and with a slight fever.

She wanted to stand up, tear the sheets off her body and go in search of her baby, but it was useless, the maids didn't even allow her to leave her bed.

She was weak and her mouth cords made no sound. Tears in her eyes were blurring her vision.

When the Dragonstone Mester entered her room, she listened intently to what he had to say:

"I'm very sorry, your Highness" the old man handed her a small wooden box, inside she could see a mixture of limbs and white hair "I guess your didn't know you were with child"

Velarys from her bed looked at the barely formed baby and she closed her eyes tightly.

"It is at least three moons... we believe it would have been a boy, princess" Velarys took the box in her hands and with her index finger caressed what would have been her son's head "If you want, we can continue with the funeral rites"

"Leave me with him for a few moments" said the princess.

"As you wish, your Highness" the Mester bowed and left the room.

However, Velarys could not be alone with the small body for so long, because minutes later Rhaenyra entered her room.

The youngest sister couldn't look her in the eyes.

"I didn't know i was expecting…" she started to say, but the lump in her throat stopped her from speaking.

Her sister came over to her bed and sat next to her, she squeezed her free hand lovingly because she knew perfectly well how losing a child feels like.

"Seems like a fair exchange. Aemond killed Lucerys and the Gods killed his child in return. A son for a son" Velarys rasped.

"Vela..."

"I want to be alone"

Rhaenyra did what her little sister wanted, and left her in solitude.

The princess sat on her bed for hours looking at her what would have been her child, wishing she had known of his existence earlier.

She refused to cry for another baby, ignored the pain that ate at her and hated every God who had punished her so cruelly.

Hours later, her lady-in-waiting, Rose Westerling, entered the princess's room and saw her at her desk writing on a scroll.

"Do you need anything, Princess?" asked the young lady.

Velarys did not look at her but she spoke as she finished reading what she had written:

"Could you do me a favor, Rose?"

"Anything, My Princess"

"Could you send this to King's Landing?"

"Immediately, your Highness"

She took the paper from Velarys's trembling hands and left the chambers of the white-haired woman.

She wished that only Aemond would read the letter from her handwriting:

If you ever felt love for me, meet me on Claw Isle at sunset.

￮ ੭ 𓈒 ˙ 🐉🐉🐉 ˳ ⊹ ˚ 𝅄

Velarys knew it would take at least a couple of hours for the raven to reach the capital. As the hour approached, she wrapped herself in a cloak and went out in search of her dragon.

The princess moved painfully close to Vaghnar and the dragon groaned as he felt his rider. The woman could barely walk and every step she took felt like hell itself.

She approached her dragon, took one of his heads and cradled it in her hands, then brought her forehead together.

"Gimigho" I know, she spoke to Vaghnar in a whisper.

Both shared the mourning for the death of her son, Vaghnar was extremely connected to Velarys and felt just as destroyed as the princess.

She petted him some more and with pain and blood loss, she rode the back of her dragon to fly away from Dragonstone.

They flew for miles and when they saw Claw Isle in the distance, they descended to the shore.

Velarys dismounted Vaghnar, and saw Aemond on the beach.

When he heard Vaghnar, he got up from the ground, brushed the sand from his pants and hurried to the princess.

She wasn't that happy to see him, she made it clear when she slapped his face hard.

Aemond knew he deserved it.

"You killed our nephew" she said bluntly "You were selfish enough to hide it, a group of fishermen found his mutilated body on the shores of Dragonstone Bay, Daemon told Rhaenyra this morning"

"I didn't mean to, I..."

"Even though you did it" she said looking into his eyes for the first time "You left a mother without her son... you know very well how it feels like, how could you do this to her?".

For the first time, she felt a tear roll down her cheek.

"How could you do this to Rhaenyra knowing what it's like to lose a child?" Velarys said wiping away her tears "You felt that pain firsthand, Aemond... it's a feeling I wouldn't wish even to my worst enemy"

"My life will not be long enough to ask for forgiveness, Velarys" he said regretfully "And for that, the Gods will punish me"

"They already did it"

"What are you talking about?"

Velarys pushed back her cloak and took from her small bag the wooden box that the Mester had let her keep, then handed it to her husband.

He took it hesitantly and opened it. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"That is...?"

Velarys just nodded.

"I called him Rhyserys" she admitted, looking at the little body in the box.

Aemond hugged Velarys tightly, and for that moment the war no longer mattered to him.

It didn't matter if the Blacks or the Greens won the Dance of the Dragons, if Aegon or Rhaenyra sat on the Iron Throne, it only mattered about Velarys and showing her how sorry he was, even though nothing he does now would change what his actions had made.

Part seven

Taglist

@mynameisbaby9 @princessmiaelicia @sustisama @daddysfavoritesexkitten @deeeeexx @zverea @tempo-rary-fix @stargaryenx @filmelunar @yor72 @remuslupinwifee @fuckinglittlekitten @may-machin @kaitieskidmore1 @zillahvathek @marvelita85 @25falsafielisa @solacestyles @polireader @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @loomipee @leoramage @iiamthehybrid @darylandbethfanforever9 @bregarc @justpassinbxx @sandronebabyy @ms-dont-care @julianaaleticia @nctma15 @isaxbella749 @tivedetek4869 @maviee @gimalo135 @fedeffy

#aemond imagine #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond the kinslayer #hotd x you #rhaenyra targaryen #team black #daemon targeryan #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #lucerys velaryon #aemond targaryen smut #smut #aemond smut #aemond targaryen x oc #house targaryen #hotd x oc #hotd one shot #hotd imagine #hotd x y/n #prince aemond targaryen #prince aegon targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x oc #aemond x y/n

[entomolog-t]

The Shadow We Cast - 2

My last G/t July Prompt that will actually be done in July; Melancholy!

- - - -

Previous Chapter: Chapter 1

Next Chapter: Chapter 3

Word count: 2460

CW: Adult language, mild gore (butchering food, mentions of blood), substances (beer)

My kitchen, thankfully, didn’t look as bad as I had expected in the aftermath of Sal’s butchering. Don’t get me wrong, it still looked like a scaled down horror scene, complete with the bowl filled with various innards and traces of little bloodied hand and foot prints smeared about, but Sal had done a remarkable job keeping the carnage to a minimum. The three or four beers I’d downed while waiting also seemed to have helped mitigate my queasiness. If you squint it's just chicken... just … don’t think too hard.

Instead, I turned my gaze down to the little man on my counter. He was absolutely beaming. With one hand perched on his hip and the other wielding the ridiculously oversized knife, he smiled up at me, clearly proud of his handiwork. He’d shed a layer or two of clothing in the process of butchering and I tried not to dwell on questioning if that was more, or less sanitary. What I did dwell on however, was him. Man, he was a burly little thing… while the sheer difference in size between us made it near impossible to pick up on the finer details of his features without being intimately close, I didn't have to be uncomfortably close to notice he, in spite of his stature, was a sizable man. Lean, and wildly muscular, boasting a broad chest and narrow waist… he could have told me he was an action figure brought to life and I wouldn't have hesitated to believe him.

“I cut, you cook?” The question sounds less like a true question and more akin to instruction. He shifted awkwardly under my gaze.

“Oh- uh, yeah man, sure thing.” While his proficiency in butchering more than surpassed my expectations, I was not about to trust a questionably feral miniature man with any sort of cooking appliances. I eyed the meat cautiously, two main thoughts becoming prominent in my mind; I was not about to cook hawk on any of my pans, and I was most certainly not about to eat it plain.

The weight of his eyes on me was somehow heavier than he himself. I felt him watch as I rummaged through the fridge, pulling out a mishmash of ingredients to make a half-assed gochujang sauce. With a quick wipe down of a section of the counter I took out a second cutting board, dishes be damned, and began to mince some garlic. He took a step back, wrinkling his nose at the smell. He eyed the garlic, among the other ingredients, warily. I smiled to myself. Oh sure, I’m the bad guy for questioning hawk, but garlic is gross? Though, to his credit, he kept his thoughts to himself.

He busied himself with inspecting the various ingredients I’d brought out, padding around each container curiously. He paid particularly close attention as I emptied a sizeable amount of maple syrup into the bowl, lingering just close enough to peer down into the mix.

“Do you want to try some?” I ask, holding up the spoon to him. His eyes bounce between me and the contents of the spoon before he gives in and dips a finger into the mix. The sight of his tiny hand gripping the edge of the spoon was jarring. Ignoring his surroundings he looked so… normal. So human… but seeing him directly contrasted against such a mundane object almost felt like an optical illusion. He examines the sauce for a moment, brow furrowed and nose wrinkled, seemingly unsure of what to make of it. With a small shrug, his curiosity wins over, and he gives the sauce a taste. His face is immediately alight with shock, and he turns to look at me with an expression of awe.

“Uh… you like it?” Instead of a verbal response, he reaches his hand back onto the spoon, taking a near fistful of sauce. I turn my head to avoid him catching sight of the face I pull at the stomach churning image of a full grown man mowing down on sauce as if it's Michelin-Starred decadence. I ignore the soft yelp he makes in protest as I pull the spoon away, and quickly interject before he can voice his disgruntlement .

“So, I’m thinking we cook these up on the barbecue outside.” I say, averting my gaze from the little monstrosity and the plethora of grotesque slurping sounds coming from his general direction as he licks his fingers clean. Sal makes a sort of hum in agreement. Had he washed his hands after butchering the hawk? I suppress a gag. I needed another drink. Stuffing a few beers under one arm, I haphazardly gathered up the sauce, tongs and meat with my free hand. With my arms more than a little full, I cast my gaze down to Sal,

“Uh, I’ll just set this up outside and then come ba-”

He jumped.

Had my reaction time been any better I’m sure I would have flinched out of the way of the tiny man throwing himself off the counter towards me, but instead all I managed was a yelp in surprise. He caught two handfuls of my shirt fabric and climbed up my midsection with an uncanny speed that could put a seasoned rockclimber to shame. The feeling of such a small and fast moving being freely skittering up my body made my skin crawl. He situated himself near the crook of my arm, a little too suspiciously close to the sauce for my liking, and patted my arm as if I were a horse he was kicking into gear.

---

What a way to travel! I couldn’t help but stare in absolute wonder as the ground flew by, with Mark seemingly moving slow yet covering such boggling distances with each step. This was exhilarating! My heart raced in my chest, and as I leaned back against Mark, I noticed with a bit of a chuckle, so did his.

He made his way out to the porch towards some large metal contraption he had referred to as a bar-bah-kyou? I hopped off onto what seemed like a sort of counter top jutting out from the barbah-thingy’s side as he emptied his arms. As I approached the vaguely tank-like structure, Mark fiddled with something beneath the machine. Upon examination, the barbah-thingy had a handle on the front as well as an assortment of dials lining its base. As I made my way closer, Mark’s hand tentatively blocked my path. I shot him a glare as he pushed me back, and he returned an apologetic smile.

“Uh, just… stand back a little.” He pressed a button. An almost insectoid clicking sound emanated from the machine. There was a whoosh, followed by a sudden increase in heat as the machine was somehow brought to life. Grinning, Mark opened up the tank-thing to show off the flames roaring up inside.

Well, that was certainly easier than rubbing sticks together.

Before I could get a closer look, he closed the lid.

“It's gotta heat up a bit before we're good.” I snorted. It seemed plenty hot to me, but he was in charge of cooking, so I wasn’t about to be fussy. He offered his hand, and I swung myself on, only to immediately be set down on a table between two wooden chairs, with Marking dropping himself into the chair to my left. He stared down at me for a moment before reaching for another one of the metallic cans.

The can made an odd hissing sound as Mark pried open the lid. As he took a swig from the can, I inspected the collection of its unopened brethren beside me. The cans were cool to the touch, with little beads of moisture forming along their surface. The muggy summer air loomed around me, tempting me to lean against the chilled metal surface of the can, but I decided against the potential social faux pas. There were mountains decorating the can, along with bright red letters. It had been a while since I'd seen human writing, especially the squiggly kind, and I wracked my brain trying to place the sounds to the letters. C…ow… ers? C-oo..wers? I felt my brow furrow in frustration. A contented sigh from Mark interrupted my attempts to decode his drink.

“What’re you drinking?” Mark looked a little caught off guard. He chuckled.

“It’s beer.” Beer? Man I was way off on my human spelling. Yikes. “Do you, uh... want some?”

The thought of the cool condensation made that an easy and enthusiastic yes from me. He reached for his can and hesitated. A wide smile formed on his face as he stood. I suppressed the urge to take a step back at his sudden movement. Fuck was he ever big.

“Sick. Lemme go get you a glass.”

Mark returned with a glass that was somehow comically small pinched between his massive fingers, yet within my own hands seemed more like a hefty bucket. Although the bucket-glass would undoubtedly be a bit of a challenge to drink from, I wasn't about to complain about getting more than my fair share of a cool drink.

As he filled my glass he cast me a wary gaze,

“Um, Sal? Have you … had alcohol before?”

“I thought this was beer.” He snorted. I had no idea why his mistake was so funny.

“I guess that's a no?” I shrugged. How could I know if I’d had it if I didn’t know what it tasted like. He laughed again and I smiled, albeit a bit nervously. What was so funny to him?

“Um.. it makes you feel good. Um, almost tingly? But if you have a lot it makes you feel a bit slow and your thoughts feel a bit…um, weird. It lowers inhibitions and-” he prattled on about how this “special drink” would make you feel, but all I could think of was how cool the glass felt against the palms of my hand. The liquid was a warm amber colour filled with bubbles that collected into a soft layer of foam at the top. It hissed quietly as the bubbles rose to the surface. A cool drink that made you feel good? Fine by me. With a bit more effort than would be desirable I lifted the drink to my lips and took a long chug. The size of the glass paired with its awkward weight made trying to control the flow of the liquid a borderline impossible task. As I tilted the glass I got a cool shock as the beer splashed against the entirety of my face, and given the heat, I really had no complaints. The bubbles were strange and stung at my throat but the strangely crisp taste was invigorating. I gulped greedily, not bothered that beer was running down my neck. The change in temperature from the spill was a welcome one.

“Woah, dude” Mark chuckled, placing the tip of his finger on the edge of my glass to guide it away from my face, “Pace yourself.” I shot him a glare, but couldn’t help letting a smirk escape. I held up my glass, making a show of comparing it to his own,

“I think if I’m pacing myself with you I’m still a ways behind.” He shook his head, laughing, and took a long sip from his drink. I did the same. This was nice. The summer heat felt almost enjoyable with his company, especially with the beer included in the equation.

“So… Have you been here long?” I cocked my head, unsure of what he meant, “Um…you know, in the area.” He clarified as he gestured to the expanse of his yard. I stared ahead, feeling as though if I stared hard enough I’d be able to look back through the years I’d been here.

“Yeah, it's been a while.” I took another sip.

“Do you like it here?” That question, casual as it may be, caught me off-guard. Did I like it here? This area was familiar. I’d been in the same spot far longer than I could remember. From the perspective of the porch I felt I could look out at the yard and see the memories that littered what had become my "home range"… The tree I’d climbed when a particularly bad storm had flooded the yard… the spot right below where a squirrel had chased me from their cache… the lattice work right beneath the window where I used to climb to - I shook the memories away.

“It’s home.”

I felt a strange yet familiar feeling claw at the edges of my mind. An emptiness… A total lack of… something. I took another sip, hoping to drown the thoughts, and with any luck, maybe find what I was missing at the bottom of my glass. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mark smile, though it didn’t quite reach the rest of his face. He heaved a weary sigh before speaking, a sound that conveyed far more to me than whatever words would follow.

“I hope it’ll start to feel like home for me soon.” He stood, making his way to the fire-tank-thing. The sun had come close to setting, leaving the sky ablaze with warm hues- a stunning display of pinks and golds igniting the horizon. Mark stood out against the backdrop, shrouded in shadow, more like a part of the treeline than a living being… he was fucking massive- no... It wasn’t him that was massive…something deep within the recesses of my brain resented seeing him like that… I took another deep sip from the glass, flushing the thought from my mind. I closed my eyes and leaned back, listening to the sounds of birds in the air, and breathing in the smell of meat roasting above a flame. Though the summer heat was waning, it was as if an ember was being stoked from within my core. A persistent warmth seemed to be rising up from within, as if the very essence of the season had somehow been ignited in my soul. I felt… good.

With my eyes closed I could picture what it would be like… just sitting in the chair to my right, cold can of beer in hand… looking out across a yard I could clear in a handful of strides… Mark sitting down in the chair to my left, not looking down, but instead looking at me. I didn’t care so much for the specifics of the imagery my brain has conjured up… but more so what it seemed to represent in my mind. The image felt close… comfortable, whereas I … when I opened my eyes I felt so far away.

I took another drink.

#Sal is a dirty little creature #Mark is just on autopilot #Mark is so awkward #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t fluff #g/t writing #borrowers #size difference #gentle giant #sfw g/t #MarkOC #SalOC #Entowrites #TheShadowWeCast #TSWC #cw alcohol #Just a dash of angst #g/t angst #g/t july 2023 #Giant/tiny #Macro/micro

[littlemissmanga]

CT-2460 "Corkscrew" Intro & SFW Alphabet

Hey all! It's been a hot minute :) I'm trying to get back into my writing grove to get into my WIP list, but it's been hard. Brain isn't braining but stress is stressing.

So rather than fight the brain fog and get frustrated over lack of writing progress, I'm shifting gears to introduce (finally) my latest OC, Corkscrew.

Called "Cor" by his close brothers, Corkscrew is a pilot in Shadow Squadron. He's an adrenaline junkie, and definitely follows the Anakin Skywalker school of flying. But at the heart of all his daring do's is his love for his brothers and his commitment to keeping them safe.

That's evident by the fact that his recklessness doesn't carry over off the battlefield. In fact, Cor is pretty chill. He's not easily provoked and he's really open minded. He's competitive and playful in a soft way. He'll tease his brothers but he's not a shitstirrer.

And fun fact, he is dyslexic but can visualize a battlefield in 3D, which helps with his flying. Hence why the Kaminoans didn't mind the the "irregularity."

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

On average, I'd say Cor is pretty affectionate, and his main way of showing that is through physical touch. He knows he can lose his brothers (or they can lose him) at any time. So a hand on a shoulder or a nudge isn't out of the ordinary for him.

Every so often, if you catch him in a serious moment where he's deep in thought, he'll verbalize that affection. But that is much less common. Corkscrew knows how to speak louder with his actions.

But receiving? Words of affirmation. Despite speaking louder with his actions, Corkscrew is still unprepared and overwhelmed in the best way when someone shows affection to him verbally or praises him. It's so new and yet it's something he feels to his core (pun intended).

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Corkscrew is your ride or die. Need someone at 3am? No questions? Corkscrew. No platitudes, no nothing. He'll just be there, for you, any time, any place.

He won't give his opinion on things unless you ask OR you're genuinely going to hurt yourself. Otherwise, it's your life, you gotta live it. He just wants to be along for the ride.

A friendship with him is easy to start, as he's pretty affable - chatting at a bar or getting introduced through one of his brothers. And he'd go out of his way to help even a new friend. If Cor sees you as someone genuine, as an equal friend who meets him where he's at as he does you, then he'll feel comfortable deepening the relationship to close friends.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

FUCK YES. So naturally, as he expresses love most easily through physical touch, cuddles are very high on his "yes please I love it" list. He would cuddle his batchmates growing up and once he got comfortable with Shadow Squadron, he grew the habit of resting his head on Matchstick's shoulder and cuddle into his big brother's side or back. It really grounds him in a good way and gives him a sense of peace. (He does it to most of his squad mates but Matchstick is who he is closest to).

He read on a contraband holonovel that nat-born couples cuddle like this to fall asleep every night and that's when that little seed was planted in his heart. He wants that. The idea of feeling someone he loves around him every night? The thought that holding someone and showing his love in such a natural way for him is desired in the wider galaxy (esp when not all his brothers love his cuddles) just floors him.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He wants it. He wants it so bad, but he doesn't let himself. First because he knows that, as long as he's in the GAR, it's unlikely to happen so he shouldn't get his hopes up. Second because Cor acknowledges that what he wants is that unique special connection most of all and he tries so hard to redirect that to his brothers. It doesn't always work, but it's enough.

As for actual domestic work, Cor keeps things pretty clean, but a messy partner would through him for a loop. I can see him getting overwhelmed because "I didn't make this mess, where does any of this go!?"

He cannot cook to save his life besides making a sandwich. Please get that man away from your oven.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Mostly by not starting it. He's really aware of how much it could hurt if it all goes wrong, and the risk to his brothers pushes him into the "not now" category.

But if he did start a secret fling and had to end it, he would be up front and honest in person. No lies about how he doesn't care. He knows it'll hurt and those lies protect no one. So blunt honestly about how much he loves you, and how angry he is that this is reality. But he will not keep hurting you or himself.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

In an AU where the war ends and clones get rights, then he really lets himself think it through for the first time. He'll be fine with the commitment aspect, but he would also wait a while before popping the question. He's patient and will want to be absolutely sure before committing.

But following canon, he's really not likely to propose. He'll be hesitant to enter a relationship knowing he can't really commit as his first obligation is to the GAR and his brothers. And while the right person could convince him to date in secret, he would never ask for their commitment to him when he can't return the same.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

To himself? Cor is a bit rough. He knows what he can handle and tolerate and will often push that limit for what he considers the greater good. That's physically, emotionally and mentally. Like the time he jumped from a fighter in order to kick some spider droids off Broadside's wing mid battle and ended up with a torn ligament that needed a soak in bacta. Or the time when he immediately reported for duty despite working overnight to help another squad without telling anyone. Or when, after the Battle of Kamino, he took a rotation giving some of the more battle-worn bothers a compassionate ear, despite being pretty beaten down himself.

But when it comes to others, Cor is the most gentle. He is aware of the double standard but doesn't care. It's because he's reckless and harsh with himself that he is hyper aware of being gentle, kind, and welcoming to others. He keeps his harshest comments to himself (unless they need to be said for help or defense) and is always mindful and aware of himself physically to avoid being rough with others.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

For his brothers and friends, hugs can range from side hugs in greeting, to barely there embraces in passing - a brief "hey, still here; still love you" - to full on cuddles. Cor will hug often but usually not for super long.

It really is his way of saying "I love you." And because actually saying that on Kamino would have been .... not ideal, he's conditioned himself to just do it naturally.

With a partner, though, things would go to the next level. Are you home? With no plans? Perfect, you're in Corkscrew's lap. Or buried into his side on the couch. Or curled on top of him in bed. And, if he's really comfortable with you, you'll be big spooning him. (OMG being little spoon is SUCH a revelation to him). Like, unless there is a reason not to be hugging, ya'll are hugging.

His hugs are warm and restorative. Not possessive, per se, but they make you feel like you're right where you belong.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Very rarely. Almost never to his brothers since to him, I love you sounds like goodbye. It's what brothers say when they fall.

He'll feel love long before he verbalizes it. He's only ever said it to a few of his closest vod. To his partner? He'll say it after they do, but even then, it'll be a big moment. Like, an anniversary or something important like that. After that, it'll still be used sparingly so the right partner needs to be aware that he may not say it in words, but he says it in so many other ways.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Yes he does get jealous. He never thought of himself as a particularly jealous person, but trainers or older vod he really admired giving more attention to others always kinda rubbed him wrong. But the first time he meets someone he connects with romantically???? MASSIVE JEALOUSY.

But Cor is coolheaded and will think things through. He's patient. He's not one to fly off the handle or start a fight. He'll watch to see how his partner reacts to the person. He'll still step in after a while (admittedly a short while) because he really doesn't like not being the center of your attention. But he'll only address his partner directly and never be outright rude or aggressive about it unless the other person escalates things. (Though he may be cocky and snarky by actively not addressing the other person at all. Like it's obvious they're being annoyed. It's almost like he'd be ok with it turning into a fight, even if that's not his intention.) It's less about the other person and more about the fact that he wants to be as central to your world as you are to his.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He doesn't really do platonic kisses, so that's out entirely.

For a partner, he goes with what he knows which at first is just on the lips. And he likes it. He really likes it. The intimacy of the act just does it for him. And if his partner lets out little hums and moans? He's in heaven. He loves the actual sensation of lips pressed to his and just the thought of knowing what you taste like. It's not until a partner kisses him first on his neck that he realizes how fun kisses can be elsewhere.

But to keep it PG, he'll usually default to a kiss on the lips for his partner any time he greets them or says goodbye. Every so often, he'll steal a kiss on your cheek in the middle of the day or in passing. And of course, he'll pepper small kisses on any skin he can reach when you're cuddling. If he's really in his feels about you, he'll pick up your hand and give that a kiss.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He's pretty good with kids. He never really spent much time with the cadets on Kamino after he was one, but his even temper and gentleness - and his cool kickass stories - make him very popular with kids. There are a few awkward moments the first time he really spends time with a little one, but he recovers quickly.

From the little experience he has, he does think about fatherhood in a positive light. It's not an end goal for him, but the idea of starting a family and raising a child with someone, having that bright energy in his life, is something that makes him warm and fuzzy.

What he can't handle is the chaos of a group of undisciplined children. He saw a bunch just being absolute menaces to their chaperones around Monument Plaza once and it was enough to make him question everything. His upbringing on Kamino may have been overly restrictive by nat-born standards, but he knows there is a happy medium that doesn't involve succumbing to the little terror's demands and screeches.

That's when he decides if he ever did marry and have a family, that the number of potential children gets capped at 2. No way will he willingly be outnumbered by his own creations.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Corkscrew is the kind of morning person who is so annoying. Not because he's chipper, but because it's like the morning doesn't phase him. There's no blinking sleep out of his eyes and slowly coming into consciousness for him. Nope, Cor is fully awake the moment his eyes open and he just goes about his day. Doesn't even need caf.

Mornings in the GAR will depend where his squad is at any time. But in an AU, he takes the slow quiet of the morning to get some personal tasks done before truly starting his day. A light breakfast (cereal because he knows his limits in the kitchen) and then he's getting through his core list to some music.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

In the GAR and on his own, Cor likes to use nights to decompress and be alone with his thoughts. He genuinely needs to wind down at the end of the day to be able to fall asleep. And growing up as he did, he appreciates a small bit of solitude to just focus on himself. It's the main time he can examine his own wants and needs without distraction.

But that doesn't mean he's a stick in the mud. He'll always be up for a night out at 79s or slightly illegal speeder racing (he just knows he'll likely be exhausted the next day) or even just hanging out with his brothers when the opportunity presents itself.

With a partner, it would pretty much be the same. Though if his partner were an introvert, then say goodbye lol. He'd go out with bros like once a month if that. If his partner wants to cuddle on the couch again, then he is 100% on board.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Cor is both open and closed off. Lemme explain.

There is virtually no difference in the way he'll treat close friends and new friends. He is open with his time, support, and energy right from the get go. And he'll reveal a lot about himself in this time - his preferences, his humor, his competitive side (which do not engage, he WILL win any challenge or die trying) all come through easily and naturally.

But there are two things about Corkscrew that only his closest loved ones know and he never even really opened up about them. More like these loved ones were close enough that Corkscrew didn't feel the need to push them down when they came up naturally. And they are...

How angry he can get when he feels like he's failed someone or someone he loves is going through something and he feels useless. All his gentleness and patience is gone. You're now looking at a born and bred soldier who only has one target.

Just how much he really does yearn for a normal, nat-born life.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

It takes A LOT to get this guy really fired up. Easiest is to threaten someone he cares about, insult his brothers, or question his commitment to the GAR and the Republic.

Even then, he won't lose control. He's three steps ahead and has thought through the most likely fight progressions and outcomes. His training kicks into high gear and he keeps an even head throughout.

He's also not very stubborn or hard headed, which makes it much easier for him to remain calm in new situations or when challenged by new information.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He'll remember the important things. Like, he is not going to off the top of his head remember everything you say in passing. But he'll write down when you mention what your favorite flower is and he'll take note if you tend to order the same thing at restaurants. He'll watch how you take care of yourself so he'll know how to do it when you can't. And he'll study that list of important things until they are second nature to him.

But like, you'll have to remind him of important events coming up in your life that wouldn't be on his radar usually and you'll have to remind him a few times (he's really not used to how nat-borns have to manage their own lives rather than having everything sorted by the GAR).

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Corkscrew is not in a relationship and has never been, so he has no favorite moment as of yet. But he is really just looking forward to connecting with someone in that true and deep way, so any moment when he feels that would qualify.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Oh so very protective but not in a prohibitive way. The man is an adrenaline junkie. He understands recklessness. But he's also reasonable and responsible and will channel any reckless urges partners and brothers have into safe versions.

Basically, Cor will let his loved ones spread their wings wide however they want ... he'll just be their shadow making sure they stay safe.

Sometimes he's too hands off or not concerned enough - because he's confident that he can protect everyone himself. If anything goes wrong in those cases, he really beats himself up for it afterward.

As for him being protected, he doesn't like it. It makes him feel uncomfortable. Not because it means he's weak. But because he views his entire purpose as being a protector, so the idea that someone else would do the same for him doesn't sit right as it takes away his purpose. Obviously his brothers watch his back in battle all the time, but that's a little different. If any of them took a hit for him, he'd not handle it well.

Similar for a partner. He's the protector. You're the protected. End of story. It is really the only position he will not budge on. There is no situation where he will be ok with you taking on risk to prevent the same of him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Man tries SO HARD. Gives his all to everything all the time. How he has energy for it no one knows. It's a mystery and he just laughs at it.

He'll pick up extra duties on board if there's no action just to help out, and does his part at home, too.

(His closest brothers have ways to trick him into stopping for food or sleep because just telling him doesn't work unless you have the authority to stop him yourself. These tricks are because he has hurt himself before by pushing himself too far.)

And he's helped enough brothers plan special if not surreptitious dates for bothers before. So when it comes to planning dates with you, he's very proactive and on top of it. He'll try really hard with gifts but he's just not great at them to start with. He's insecure about his tastes and what you like and will second-guess his understanding of what you like. Give him a list or general ideas though and he's off to the races.

No matter what he gets you or what he plans for big days, he'll always put you at the center of it and make sure that you'll appreciate what he is bringing to the table,

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Corkscrew's altruism gets to unhealthy places if no one checks him and that leads to dangerous behavior. He also has the habit of pushing down his own wants and needs, but that's overflowed into pushing down any negative reaction or emotion if he feels overwhelmed. That means it's really hard for Cor to recognize he's reaching a breaking point either mentally or physically.

He also doesn't realize, but by deprioritizing himself and acting on his own when he thinks its best, he is pushing away and hurting those who love him.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

More than average level of vanity but not concieted. When all you see is the same face every day, you come to understand that dang, that is a handsome face. He takes good care of his hair (which is slightly longer than regulations but not enough to garner attention) and does enjoy the physical results of his conditioning and exercise.

Corkscrew is hot and he knows it and that's about as self-indulgent as he gets.

He got dared by his squad mates to cut a bit of his eyebrow off once (because they were aware he liked to be a "pretty boy"). But jokes on them, he liked the edginess it gave him and now it's a permanent feature.

He was legitimately concerned about the large scar that bisects his right thigh (transparisteel from his fighter shattered mid-battle and cut deep. He crashed into the docking bay of the Venator before passing out). It wasn't just that it was rough looking, but it was in a spot that only medics and bed partners would see, and the latter wouldn't think about scars the same way some brothers do, as badges of honor. He is still very self-conscious about it.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He already doesn't. Cor really feels like something is missing. But his identity is so bound to the GAR that he convinces himself that the feeling is just longing and not a void in his very soul.

Once he finds a partner that he loves, Corkscrew would prefer spending every night together. He understands that may not always be possible, but damn he's gone so long without you that he can't go back to feeling incomplete.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Man is competitive as SHIT. Like, you wanna see him lose control without putting yourself in danger? Challenge him to anything. Literally anything. And like the small child he really is at heart, he can't let it go. But be warned, he's really adept at finding ways to win. And he'll keep rechallenging you until he's got you beat.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Selfishness and inconsideration. Being mindful is so part of who he is that someone who objectively doesn't operate at least a little in the same way would be incompatible. He'd grow resentful of them.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He has a pretty regular sleep pattern when on leave and non-active engagement, as is standard for the GAR. But he doesn't need to be. Corkscrew can nap for 30 minutes and be good to go. It's not fair and other brothers hate him for it (affectionately).

He does snore a bit, but lightly and he doesn't tend to move too much. Maybe that's why it's so restful?

He also likes both a shirt and sleep pants for bed. Much more than just boxers or even just pants.

That's all for Corkscrew for now. Keep an eye out for his NSFW Alphabet and maybe a ficlet or two in the near future!

Taglist*: @dreamie411, @wings-and-beskar @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @wolffegirlsunite @secondaryrealm @idontgetanysleep @freesia-writes @multi-fan-dom-madness @dystopicjumpsuit @sinfulsalutations @sunshinesdaydream @clonemedickix @wizardofrozz @anxiouspineapple99 @mythical-illustrator @dhawerdaverd

*Note about my taglist: I am still sorting out my Google storage so if you have signed up and don't see yourself here, the lack of storage means it's not updating my Google docs :/ I'm so sorry if that happened. You can message me and I'll add you manually. Or if you don't mind waiting, I hope to have this fixed soon and will put out a call for a new sign up :)

Check out my Masterlist for more Clone Wars and Bad Batch fics and hcs!

#my ocs #new oc #ct-2460 clone pilot Corkscrew #oc: corkscrew #tcw oc #star wars oc

[hyp3rfocus]

But We Would be Hollow - Chapter IV

Title: Conversation #2 (Or the Art of Self-Sabotage, Courtesy of One Kenny Ackerman)

Summary: A midnight rendezvous, a shirtless bodyguard, and enough sexual tension to power a small country. What could possibly go wrong?

Words: 2460

Link: archiveofourown.org

Excerpt:

"Been doing a whole heap of thinkin'... 'bout you. The way you looked that day, all hot and bothered." His eyes dart down to Uri's lips and back up. "Been thinkin' 'bout what it'd be like to kiss you, to taste that sweet mouth of yours, to feel you come undone against me. I'd reckon you'd make the sweetest little noises, all needy and wantin' more of me."

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #kenuri #kenny/uri #uriken #kenuriweek #kenuriweek2024 #kenny ackerman/uri reiss #urikenweek2024 #fanfic #ao3

[asmutwriter]

You Saved Me (Part 8)

DESCRIPTION: (Season 8) You get invited to a birthday party. Needing some help you call the first man that comes to mind. Dean Winchester

WORD COUNT: 2460

From Beginning / Previous / Next / Master List  

WARNINGS: swearing, single mum

DISCLAIMERS

- This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

- Not been proof read

A YEAR LATER

"Honey"

"No mum"

"Hand it over" you have your hands up in a defence pose, sowly holding one out towards you youngest daughter. SHe shakes her head

"Mumy no"

"Lydia. Please just give me the spoon" she giggles, licking the end of the spoon. Smiling as the chocolate icing hits her tongue. SHe giggles as you smile, tackling her and tickling her "Thats it little miss"

"Mummy no!" she squeals as you tickle her, wrestling the spoon from her hand and placing it on the side. You pick her up. Body facing away from you as you hold her. Arms wrapped around her as you move. Going into the living room. Anna looks at you, going over she smiles at her younger sister

"We have a prisoner Detective Anna. The Infamous 'spoon theif'"

"The crime?" she stands up, coming over and placing her hands behind her back.

"STealing spoons used halfway through cooking some food and eating from the utensul"

"Hmm. You know what the punishment for that is, correct?" she smiles. Grabbing her sisters feet and tickling the soles of them "Tickle torture" more enjoayble squealing

"Mummy!" she squeals. Wriggling in your grip and kicking. A grin accross her face.

"Ok" you say, Anna stopping her torment "I think shes learnt her lesson" she nods, putting her down she folds her arms. Glaring at you both as an unaplogetic smile is plastered on her face.

"Youre both horrible to me"

"Hey you knew what the penalty was for theiving food before its ready" you smile "Im going to go continue cooking. STay in here ok? Both of you" they both nod, slight evil grins on both their faces. You turn around, playfully looking over your shoulder as you go t the kitchen. Continuing decorate the cupcake you were icing. Using a fresh and unlicked spoon however. You place the cake into the container. Pushing it to the far back of the counter. Going back into the living room with your hands behind you back. You see the two girls sitting on the floor. Both of which seem to be colouring.

"I made the cakes. Now they're for tomorrow so please dont have them before we go to the party ok?"

"Ok mum" you smile "thankfully for you" you pull out the two cupcakes from behind your back "I made a couple of extra. Just for quality control" they both smile. You hand one to each of them as they unwrap and eat their sweet treats.

"The rest are for tomorror. Got it?" they both nod, grinning with mouthfuls of cake causing you to chuckle.

Th rest of the day goes by as normal. Doing the chores, putting the kids to bed, having a shower, going to bed, getting up in the morning, heading to the party. It was one of Anna's friends birthday. You were quite friendly with the mum so she had asked you for some help with the food. You were on cupcakes. You drive up, parking outside her house.

Yu go inside. Your oldest going and playing with her friends. Your youngest clinging to your leg as the mum of the birthday boy comes in. She hugs you in greeting "Rose! Im so glad you coul make it"

"Sarah its nice seein you" she smiles, moving away and taking the cakes from you. Placing them on the counter with the other stuff. She smiles and crouches down

"Yo must be Lydia" she says, smiling as she nods. Hiding her face into your leg as you both let out a soft chuckle. SHe stands up, smiling at you "Come on. Let me introduce you to the other parents" she smiles. Motioning for you to follow her as she leads you to her garden. She introduces you to two couples. Going to introduce you to the next couole she gets distracted

"Honey no- Im sorry Ive got to- honey please dont eat that. Thats not edible" she runs over to one of the kids. The two couples laugh slightly

"SO wheres yur husband?" you shake your head "Wife?"

"No. Im not married"

"Oh..." the look they give you. One of disgust. Just as your phone tings. You take it out of your pocket. A new message from Dean. Just one asking how you and the girls are. But it gives you an idea.

'Meet me at this address. Come alone. I'll explain when you get here'.

You smile at the couples as they judge you. Saying to Lydia to go and grab some cake. Just as your phone dinged again

'Be there in 20'

"Sorry I need to go and talk to Sarah for a second" you say to the couples as they nod. Watching as you walk away. You hear scoffing behind you. "Hey Sarah" you smile as you find her in the kitchen "Im so sorry. I didnt think he'd be able to come but he just texted me saying that hes gotten off of work early and he can come to this party and I didnt think youd mind bu-"

"Woah slow down Rose. WHos he?"

"My boyfriend. Sorry I thought Id told you" you smile at her as she shakes her head

"Hes coming here?" you nod "Oh my god. I get to meet one of your partners. They normally only last a week so this is pretty big news. WHat did you say his name was again?"

"Dean" she nods. Grabbing a pen you snatch it from her hand "Do not write it down. ANd please act semi normal when you meet him. Please? Dont want to scare him off" she nods, hugging you tightly

"Im so happy for ypu" you chuckle slightly, patting her back before she moves away "you deserve this Rose. You deserve to be loved"

"Ok thats enough of that sappy shit. Come on" she smiles, letting out a small squeal before putting on a straight face. Nodding as she heads back to her party. You go and stand in the doorway to the garden. Watching one of your kids eating her way through the varius cakes. The other pkaying some sort of balloon game with her friends.

You jump as you hear a knock at the front door. Going and answering it. Dean looks at you. Panic in his eyes as he looks at you. "Are you ok? Where are the girls?" he takes your shoulders, checking you over to make sure you have no injuries.

"Im ok" you take his face between your two gabds. Making him look at you as his hands automaticly go to your waist. "Me and the girls are fine. Completely"

"Then why am I here?" you move away from him sligthly, rubbing one of your arms as you look down

"So there were these people and they were just... disgusted almost by the fact that I was a single mum. And you texted me so I got an idea and I thought that if you're free you wouldnt mind pretending to be my boyfriend to prove those bitchy parents wrong. I know I shouldve rang you to explain or sent a less criptic message but I was annoyed and I just didnt want to be judged by my friends posh friends. Or not judged that much anyway" he nods slightly, looking down as a soft chuckle leaves his lips

"I thought that you and the girls had been captured. Were being horrifically totruted. So Im glad that it turns out to be that you just wanted a date to the prom" you smile, bringing your hands up near you face.

"Youre going to stay?"

"Do I get to eat the free food?" you nod "The I'll stay" you suqeal, hugging him tightly.

"Thank you so much" you kiss his cheek.

You update him on his back story as you link arms with him. Heading to the garden. Anna runs over to you. Grinning as she hugs you. Lydia closely following behind. Gripping her older sisters sleeve.

"I dont mean to brag but me and Lydia did pretty good in the treausre hunt" she holds up a goodie bag filled with sweets and chocolate

"Oh wow you did do well"

"Lydia got shy about doing the hunt on her own so I told her we can share when we get back"

"Thats very kind of you" you smile as she nods, looking around at the other kids still finding stuff

"It meant I had a good excuse to pick up twice the amount of candy" she turns and grins at you again. Looking at Dean she smiles at him "I didnt realise you were coming to this party" he nods

"You're mum asked me to come for emotional support" she nods slightly. Lydia pulls Annas sleave. She looks at her younger sister. Following her poitned finger. Nodding

"We're gping over to the bouncy castle, ok?" you nod, smiling as you watch them go over

"I swear they get bigger everytime I see them" you smile, folding your arms slightly as you watch them "you've done very well at raising them. They've both turned out to be quite lovely young ladies"

"Well I dont know about that. I walked in on Lydia eating an entire jar of peanut butter not to long ago" he laughs as you smile, facing him as you watch the sides of his eyes crinkle from laughing.

"That wasnt a comment I was expecting. Not going to lie" you chuckle slightly "Seriously though. Ive seen people whove been through less shit then you and those girls have had to deal with. ANd they turn out to be real dickbags. The fact that you three are genuinly kind human beings. Id take that as a win" you nod, smiling at his words

"Thanks Dean" he smiles

"No problem Kat" he looks around. Seeing the buffet table "Iim hungry. Lets go get some grub right?" he points over to it, walking over to it you follow him in his stride. Grabbing a plate his fingers do an almost dance before he starts piling the food onto it. You grab one of the small sandwches and strt eating it. Turning as you watch your kids.

You feel a hand on your shoulder. Making you jump. You clutch at your heart as you see Sarah standing next to you. Chuckling as you lean over slightly "jesus christ dont do that".

"Sorry love. I was just wondering where your new fella was" You nod, turning to look at the green eyed man next to you. Who curretnly has what appears to be some sort of savoury food in his mouth. You look at the ground and let out a small chuckle

"Honey" you gently touch his arm. He turns to face you. Covering his mouth slightly as he looks at you, then Sarah "this is my boyfriend, Dean. Dean, this is my friend Sarah" he smiles at her. Swallowing his food before speaking

"Nice to meet you" he motions at the food on the table "this is delicious by the way" she smiles

"Thank you. I made most of it myself" he nods, eating some more of the food. She asks the typical questions. How did you first meet? How long you've been together? What proffesion does he have? Thankfully you both stuck to relatively the truth. Met 10 years ago as you had some informatoin about a case he was working on. Been friends since then. About two months agp you got up the courage and asked him out on a date. It went well and youve been together since.

As youve fnished answering all the questions Lydia runs over to you. Tears in her eyes. You kneel down. "Sweetie whats wrong?" she holds up her pinkie finger. Sniffing slightly as you see a small cut on the end. "Oh baby" you take her hand between yours. Kissing her fingers. "Is that better?" she nods slightly, hugging you. You wrap your arms around her before letting her go. STanding up as Sarah smiles at her

"Do you want me to go get you a plaster?" she nods, giggling slightly as she hides in your leg. SHe smiles "shall we go get you one?" she holds her hand out. SHe shyly takes her hand. Her smile goes to you and Dean "It was lovely meeting you" he nods and meets her smile with his own

"It was nice meeting you too" she smiles, walking out to the kitchen. He turns to you slightly, whispering at you as he continues to have a smile on his face. "That was the most terrifying interigation I've ever had" you laugh, covering your kuth as Lydia runs back out. SHe holds her hand up to you. You smile. Taking her hand as you admire the plaster.

"Its got a unicorn on it" she says to you as you nod, smiling

"Id say its a plaster truly worthy for a princess" she giggles. Running off to contunue playing. You and Dean chat whilst the partyt continues. The occasional parents comes over and chats to you both. Then its time for you to leave. Its a Sunday so the guests leave early. Wnating to get ready for work and school the next day. You go outside. Dean following shortly behind you as you help your kids into the car. Doing up Lydias seat belt. Double checking Anna has hers put on as she suts in the front. You shut the front door, turning to Dean.

"You are welcome to come back to mine if you'd like. I imagine you want to get back to your brother though" he smiles at you, putting his gaze onto the two kids in the car before looking at you again

"I should go back to Sam. I kind of left ubruplty. I dont want him to worry about me" you nod, hugging him as you wrap your arms around his neck. You feel his arms go around your waist, his head going into your shoulder. You stay like this for a few moments before he kisses the top of your head before moving away from the hug. He looks through the open window of the car "it was lovely seeing you girls again" Lydia waves enthusiasticly to him as Anna turns to face him

"It was nice seeing you Dean" he nods and smiles, putting his fist out for a fist bump. Anna chuckles. Meeting his fist bump. Causing him to smile as he waves at Lydia.

"Bye" he whisper speaks to you before heading to his car. You get in the drivers seat. Waving as Dean drives past you. Anna watching the both of you as you smile at each other.

Previous / Next

TAGS

@sojuxxi

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #smut #supernatural #supernatural smut #supernatural angst #supernatural fluff #angst #fluff #dean winchester supernatural #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #jensen ackles #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fan fic #dean x reader #dean smut #supernatural dean angst #dean fluff #jensen ackles dean #jensen ackles dean winchester #spn cast #spn dean #spn dean winchester #spn dean winchester angst #spn dean winchester fluff #spn dean winchester smut #spn dean fluff #spn dean angst #spn dean smut

[unexpectedly-haunted]

Woe! Renchanting Fic Recommendations be upon ye!

Lamplight AU by skelew: A DnD style/Fantasy AU series where Martyn, captured and separated from his traveling party, finds an almost-forgotten god trapped in the basement. He becomes this god’s paladin in a bid to escape, and Ren, stuck in the form of fire, is happy to help. Adventures and a significant amount of arson follow, and the series is currently in progress! Words: 20,949 Works: 6

Missing or Obstructed by skelew: Post-Third Life AU centered on Ren and Grian. Waking up back on Hermitcraft after dying, these two are the only ones who remember the game. Grian struggles with his victory, and Ren sets out to find Martyn. Words: 2609 Chapters: 1/?

Wooden Mausoleum by skelew: Third Life AU where Martyn follows through on his planned betrayal. Fantastic and heartfelt angst, I cannot recommend enough. Words: 3807 Chapters: 1/1

yes, the only way out is down by skelew: Hey, remember when Martyn executed Ren? And it took three strikes to finally kill him? Wasn’t that fucked up? That’s what this fic is. Words: 1248 Chapters: 1/1

Domino Effect by pixiemage: Martyn-centric Third Life time loop fic with quality renchanting characterisation! Incorporates Watcher lore and Watcher! Grian in an interesting and engaging way. Words: 39557 Chapters: 3/?

winter as a metaphor for approaching ends by donnerstag: Ren ventures into a blizzard to find Martyn when he doesn’t come home. A reflection on loyalty in a death game. Loved the dialogue, have reread several times already. Words: 3880 Chapters: 1/1

falling doesn’t feel so bad (when i know you’ve fallen this way too) by mangop1e: Ren’s tests of loyalty, now featuring a soul-binding magic ritual. Described as including “imtimacy” “but like in the emotional way” “in the homies way” “in the “youre my king and i’m your faithful right hand” way” and it delivers!  Words: 5148 Chapters: 1/1

sharp & glorious thorn by majorkirastan: Ren and Martyn have a late night talk. I think about this one at least three times a week. Words: 2098 Chapters: 1/1

you’ve always been my north star by genesis_frog: A character study of Third Life Martyn and, by extension, Ren. Formatted as a 5 + 1 and really, really good! Words: 3346 Chapters: 1/1

ain’t it warming you, the world going up in flames? by crowleysflamingbentley: The tnt trap outside Dogwarts goes off, and Martyn sees red. This does not go so well for Scar. Really fun idea and I love how it was written! Somewhat open-ended. Words: 1327 Chapters: 1/1

Cold Comfort by redwinterroses: In the aftermath of the Red King’s rise, Martyn struggles with continuing bloodlust. Ren continues to trust him anyway. Close to a happy ending. Words: 2460 Chapters: 1/1

Nothing Gold Can Stay by redwinterroses: Third Life AU where Dogwarts wins, and Ren and Martyn are the last two left standing. Intense angst with a hopeful ending. Words: 3581 Chapters: 1/1

Heavy Hands, Heavy Hearts by librius: Dogwarts wins AU, and they both want to other one to live. All angst baby! Words: 1965 Chapters: 1/1

untitled by redwinterroses: Ren the King dreams of his dead Hand, who has some words for him. Such a cool concept, and the imagery is still haunting me. Words: 1460 Chapters: 1/1

also, here’s my ao3! i have a lot of renchanting there + plan on writing more :D

#renchanting #rendog #writing #fic recommendations #fic recs #ghost post #wrote this up a while ago and forgot to post it! so here it is now :D

[okay-j-hannah]

Domestic

Doctor Who : Prompt

Tenth Doctor x DyingGirl!Reader

Word Count: 2460

Warnings: I’ve placed this in the Dying Girl Universe {which is a series I’ve written} It takes place during Part 3: The Ending Song This fic won’t make much sense without the context of that series

🌌 If you’re a fan of the series, feel free to make requests with the DyingGirl!Reader 🌌

Request: “ten x reader Where reader takes a break of sort after a close encounter with death, nothing serious really, y'know the usual with the doctor but this time they felt like going back to their old home/life just for few days but the doctor cannot stay alone so he visits the reader, with prompt 127+129+133 with 40 and maybe 96 and 102? Like just domestic fluff, being at home and living human life rather than running for their lives.” Anon

Prompts:

133. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Oh, trust me I can’t.”

96. “Do you need me to get anything from the store?”

40. “I had a nightmare about you and just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

A/N: The Doctor returns to spend a few ‘human’ days with you

~~~

The back garden was peaceful that evening. The sun was hidden by wispy clouds, warming her face where she sat in a patio chair. The grass was trimmed and the plants creeping along the edges.

The neighborhood cat was prowling near the vegetable patch, no doubt on pest control. It made (Y/N) smile, watching the spotted feline pounce on a grasshopper.

It should have been peaceful to (Y/N), but it only made her itch. She was tired, yes – on the steady decline with her tonic dependent illness – but the Time Lord in her was itching to move.

It’d been over a month since she was returned to Earth. Over a month since the Doctor and her bought the little townhome. And over a month since the Doctor gave the promise to return.

No doubt he was traveling the universe as she instructed, possibly with a new companion. She hoped he did – he shouldn’t travel alone.

She was contemplating writing in her journal, or perhaps making a pot of tea, when the cat rubbed against her ankle. It mewled and ruffled its whiskers against her skin. (Y/N) chuckled quietly, bending to scratch behind its ears.

“Clever cat, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely brilliant.”

(Y/N) flipped in her chair, the cat skittering towards the side gate where the new voice announced itself.

“I asked her to look out for you.” The Doctor squatted down to pet the animal, “I speak cat, you know.”

“Of course you do,” (Y/N) whispered, rising cautiously to her feet – she was prone to headaches and dizzy spells these days. “Hello there.”

The Doctor stood, expression unreadable, “Hello (Y/N).”

Slowly – comically – a smile developed on her face. Seconds later a matching one grew on the Doctor. He started to laugh.

“You madman,” she choked on a laugh, “My beautiful, brown-eyed Doctor.”

He strode over and wrapped his arms around her waist, swift and soft. She reciprocated with arms around his neck. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered, “How are you feeling?”

“As well as I can,” she replied, pulling away only to kiss him full on the mouth.

He practically squeaked, “My dear, I’ve got a request.”

She smiled at his dusty pink cheeks, “Yes?”

“I’ve considered taking some time off,” he feigned a business-like voice, as if he needed a professional excuse to pause his adventuring. “And I’m in need of a place to stay.”

“Really, Doctor,” (Y/N) scoffed, “You don’t have to create some lie just to visit me.”

He tried to hide his smile, “So I’m welcome then?”

“For a price,” she sighed dramatically, “Escort me inside?” She lifted one of her ashen hands.

The Doctor looked at it warily but encased it with his own. “If we’re to talk of a price, surely I’m entitled to some negotiation.”

“Only because I fear the garden cat will come after me if I don’t.”

“She is clever like that, isn’t she?” the Doctor said fondly. “I believe it’s only fair I’m given kitchen privileges.”

(Y/N) laughed, entering the living room and closing the glass door behind them, “I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Oh, trust me I can’t.”

“Alright,” she shook her head endearingly, “Full kitchen access. Anything else?”

“I want a rubber duck for the bath.”

(Y/N) made for the plushest armchair – the cushion was kind to her bones – and spoke with a smile in her voice, “I’ve got one hidden in the cupboard somewhere.”

He eyed her slow movement with hidden guilt, “And absolutely, under no circumstance, are you to do anything more than relax.” He made for her chair, sitting on the ottoman, “Let me take care of you.”

“Take care of me?” she grinned, “What makes you say I need taking care of?”

He ignored the question, “I’ll cook and clean. Do the shopping and make your tea. I’ll get your slippers and fold the laundry. I can mix your tonic and check your temperature.”

“Doctor,” she said quietly, “Are you trying to play husband?”

“Well…” he said loudly – animatedly – as if that hid the flush overtaking him. “You’ve been cooped up here long enough with nothing but your books and illness and the spy cat. I figured you could use some company.”

“I have friends, Doctor,” she giggled, “Jack visits me all the time.”

He grumbled, “Of course he does. I’ll have to tell him off. Say you’re on quarantine and can’t have visitors.”

“Don’t you dare,” she chastised, but she had a soft look. “You haven’t heard my price yet.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“You have to tell me a bedtime story every night.”

He smiled, “Sure.”

“You have to bring me a ball of starlight to keep me company when you leave.”

The Doctor barked a laugh, “Don’t know if that’s possible but I’ll try.”

“And you can’t talk about my illness while you’re here,” she swallowed hard, “No talk of tonics or cures or how I look unwell.” She held a hand up when he tried to speak, “I just want to enjoy the time we have together.”

He clamped his mouth shut, contemplating her words. He began to nod, “Molto bene.”

She grinned, “I’ve missed you.”

The Doctor leaned forward and took her hand, starting to trace her knuckles like he used to on their adventures. “Now what do you humans do for dinner?”

She new very well the Doctor was making a joke – he knew she was a Time Lord – but of the two of them only one had lived as a human for years. It made her giggle.

“Takeout?”

~~~

(Y/N) had a toothbrush hanging from her mouth. She was peering from the banister on the stairs. She was seeking the source of the running water.

There in the kitchen, clad in an old shirt and sweats, was the Doctor. Washing dishes.

She brushed a knuckle under her lip, wiping away any toothpaste, “Having fun?”

The Doctor whirled around, splashing bubbles everywhere, “Loads!” His smile was wide and contagious. There was a sponge in one hand and a scrubber brush in another, both dripping suds down his arms.

“Coming to bed?” she called, brushing her teeth, “It’s getting late.”

“Right,” he said, tossing the sponge with a squelch in the sink, “You have to sleep. I forget the silly things of the dull life sometimes.” He grabbed a towel and wiped the remaining bubbles from his arms. “I’m rather fond of the shirt, where’d you get it?”

The grey tee had the NASA logo faded on the front. (Y/N) spoke through a mouthful of toothpaste foam, “Some American intern that worked at St. Bartholomew’s.”

“An intern?”

“I spilled pudding on my shirt, and he offered his extra that he kept in his locker. I was going to an interview after my appointment, so it really was a lifesaver.”

The Doctor had a close lipped smile as he lifted a hand to (Y/N)’s face, still leaning over the banister. He wiped at the corner of her mouth, poking her nose for good measure.

“I request a story,” she said, turning for the second floor.

The Doctor followed, “I have one or two at the ready.”

“Did you find another companion? You never said.”

They entered her bedroom, (Y/N) going for the en suite bathroom to clean up.

“Yes, actually,” the Doctor flopped onto the bed, “Donna Noble. Loud, angry, brilliant Donna Noble.”

“Does she know about me?”

“Of course she does,” he played with the objects on the nightstand – clicking the lamp, flipping through a book, messing with the alarm clock. “Won’t shut up about meeting you.”

(Y/N) came to the bed, settling under the sheets, “I’d love to meet her.”

The Doctor leaned against the pillows, eyeing her with fondness. It was quiet and simple and full of love. It was like he couldn’t wait to ask his next question, “Tell me about your day.” It was such a couple thing to do, asking your partner about their day.

“Well,” she sighed, sinking into the mattress, “I had an eventful morning of eating some toast and jam. I had my teaspoon of tonic and tea. Then I talked with the mailman about getting the local newsletter. Martha sent me a package with a microwavable neck wrap, bath salts, and fuzzy socks – ever so kind about checking in on me. I had a bubble bath and watched my television dramas. Then I took a nap before snacking on cold sandwiches. And I rested in the back garden, talking to the cat and humming to the bees before you showed up.”

The Doctor soaked up every word, waiting patiently for her to finish. “What kind of bubbles?”

“What?” she laughed, watching his hand trail down to her fingers.

“What kind of bubbles did you use for your bath.”

“Eucalyptus and spearmint,” she giggled, “Of course you’d focus on the bubbles.”

He pouted, “You can never go wrong with bubbles.”

She entwined their fingers, poking his leg with her covered toes, “What’s Donna doing if you’re here?”

“Oh, she’s staying with her family after some nasty business with poisoned exhaust and some angry potato people.”

“Is that going to be our bedtime story?”

He considered it seriously, “Or the eruption of Pompeii or the Ood planet business. Or the Adipose children!”

“I don’t think anyone has pillow talk quiet like we do,” she laughed, “The volcano sounds like a good story.”

The Doctor smiled, ruffling his already crazed hair, “Well, I was in a rather poor state of mind on that trip. By the end of it Donna had to knock some sense into me.”

“I’m liking her already.”

And the story of Rome and the soothsayers and the volcanic giants put (Y/N) into a deep, quiet sleep. The deepest and quietest she’d had since living in the townhome. But that was always the Doctor – at the end of the day, he was the one to quiet her fears and comfort her anxieties. He made her feel safe and sleepy.

So when she was roused from her sleep to find the Doctor awake and sad, she was bewildered. He was in the reading chair that normally sat near the window, his elbow on his knee and head in his hand.

“Hello,” he whispered.

“What time is it?” she whispered back, the room dark except for the light peeking around the door.

He smiled softly at the sleep in her voice, “Nearly four in the morning. I just came in to check on you.”

“Came in? You didn’t stay after your story?” she was rubbing the tired out of her eyes.

“You fell asleep before I could ask if that was alright. The couch was comfortable enough.”

She looked at his sad eyes, deep and endless in color. “Are you alright?”

“I had a nightmare about you,” his sweet smile turned grim, “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

She watched him fight the urge to remain saddened. He worked his lips into a pitiful smile. “That’s why I came, you know. Sometimes you forget how loud the silence is until you’re the only one there. The things it whispers to you. What it makes you fret. Donna helped some…” he rubbed a wary hand over his face, “But she’s not you.”

(Y/N) watched him confess, conscious of how open and vulnerable he was being. This was normally when he’d change the subject with a loud transition word or run away to distract himself with another physics problem.

Now he was waiting for her response.

“Come to bed,” she whispered, lifting the sheets, “I’m tired and it’s warm under here.”

His gaze was somber, but the smile was more genuine, “Good, because that couch really wasn’t all that comfortable.”

“You fibber,” she giggled, pulling on his arms until he wrapped himself around her. His head rested on her chest, his hair scratching at her chin. “Were you fibbing about the nightmare too?”

“No,” he said quietly, molding himself to her side. His long fingers found purchase around her waist, fitting nicely between her ribs. “The silence has never been kind to me. It likes to taunt me when I’m alone. Haunt me with visions of you.”

She pushed his wild hair back, “I’m here now, Doctor. Nothing nightmarish about it. Just two people sharing a bed in their small home on the edge of town.”

He sighed contentedly beside her, “Just us two.”

~~~

She awoke with bird song from the front garden and the smell of pancakes coming from the stairs. Judging by the whistled tune below, the Doctor slept well. The pillow beside her still smelt of him.

It made her smile, spotting a cup of tea and her tonic bottle on the nightstand. Morning routine, she thought. Only this time the Doctor was climbing the stairs with a breakfast tray laden with toast and jam, blueberry pancakes, and a pile of bacon.

“Good morning, dear,” he said merrily, “Bon Appetit.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly, still drunk with sleep, “You’ve got jam on your shirt.”

The Doctor sat near her feet, rubbing at the strawberry stain on his chest, “Yes, well – the butter knife was being uncooperative.”

And with a clear view of his head now, she giggled, “Is that pancake batter in your hair?”

He pinched her foot. “Fine, I’ll have a shower,” he sighed, “Enjoy your breakfast.” He stood, “What’s that shampoo you use – something like coconut?”

“That’s my body wash,” she bit into her toast, “Coconut and lime.”

“Then what’s the apple smell?” he asked, going for her bathroom.

She replied, “That’d be the conditioner.”

The Doctor returned holding a large bottle under his arm, “I’m just going to borrow it for a mo.”

“Just use my shower you tosser,” she laughed, “The one downstairs doesn’t drain properly anyway.”

“Which reminds me,” he twirled in the doorway, brandishing the conditioner bottle at her, “Do you need me to get anything from the store?”

“The store?” she picked a slice of bacon, “I thought you were taking a shower.”

He leaned against the doorframe, tossing the bottle between his hands, “I was just thinking… perhaps we could get the shopping done while I’m here. Maybe trim the grass and clean the gutters. I noticed the refrigerator is a few degrees off and I can fix that easy with my sonic.”

She eyed him resting easy now against the door. He was lazily beautiful, leaning so his old t shirt rode up and revealed a sliver of skin before his baggy sweatpants. He was all bedhead and new day energy, waking up to a house and a girl and a human life.

“You play the part of domestic well,” she smiled.

He looked at her fondly, “I told you I was capable of being domestic. Enjoy it even.”

~~~

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